#and how much that must mean to Mike his parents never show interest they always invalidate his feelings and never ask if he's doing okay

[uselessnbee]

saw my favorite bylers talk about the relationship between Mike and Joyce again and now i just can't stop thinking about it

not just if she saw the airport fiasco but what if she saw the conflict between willelmike

or after they're all finally in hawkins again maybe she saw there's something going on and asked Jonathan and he told her some things he knew he could let her know

and then she comes to Mike and he expects it. he expects her to be angry to start criticising him cause he fucked up and hurts everyone and he knew this was coming but god does it hurt. this is the woman that feels like a second mother to him the woman that sometimes feels more like a mother to him then his actual mom and he knows being criticised by her is going to be the last straw and a part of him is dreading this but a part of him also thinks he deserves this. of course he does he fucked up he's the bad guy he hurt people he hurt her children she loves more than anything of course he deserves this

so he can take it. it will hurt. it will be like a punch in the face but he can take it it's what happens after that's the real question

but Joyce just smiles at him so gently and asks if he's doing okay. if everything is alright if something is going on. she tells him she cares about him and she knows he's been through a lot but if he needs her she's here for him. if he needs to talk she will listen if he just needs someone to be there for him she will be and she's just so caring and gentle and loving to Mike and Mike just. fucking. breaks.

he doesn't even remember when was the last time someone treated him this way like his feelings matter like he matters and he just can't help it. someone finally sees more than his snarkiness. someone finally sees more than him being a jerk. someone finally sees there's something more going on. someone finally sees the pain behind it and cares enough to actually ask him of he's okay and so he just lets himself cry in front of someone for the first time in years

[biigiiiii]

No but like writing ‘from’ instead of love is huge especially when the other person is signing ‘Love X’!

I can compare it to putting x’s at the end of texts - idk about anyone else but I have a certain number of xs I put depending on who you are and if you put more I’ll match it. If I put less I’ll feel like subconsciously I’m saying you don’t matter enough to put the same effort in.

And when I’m writing cards or letters, if they start first with love I’ll always put love back UNLESS I knew the other person liked me romantically and I didn’t like them back but wanted to let them know without having to say it (!). So Mike basically being forced to say I love you or I don’t love you must have been so stressful if he wasn’t ready to say either. Plus the fact she got the hint and was really upset about it, and in that fight it’s so clear they’re not on the same page.

Also going back to season 3, they didn’t officially get back together on screen if I remember right, so we can’t really assume either way, but if they were still broken up/on a break right up until they left for California, then maybe they really weren’t on the same page. Both of them parted ways thinking opposite things about their relationship status. Mike never responded to her I love you (which she said in response to his ‘I love her’ from months earlier, so I’m guessing that’s the first time she said that to him and it makes me wonder what the nature of their relationship/friendship was during that time period lol), and she just walked away. Next thing is them all hugging by the car and eventually leaving. Mike was probably so conflicted since that last day they were all together, and didn’t know how to tell her that he actually didn’t want to get back together. That maybe he might even like someone else.

And El, who loves romance movies and keeps a Mike shrine, thinks that they are still together and they write all the time so it must be love by now. Surely. Also she’s never seen romantic love growing up (we can assume), which usually entirely shapes our whole relationship patterns as adults. So if her romantic education is movies, of course she’s going to have the wrong idea of what real, healthy, mutual love is. And that’s not her fault. Her only experience with love until she left the lab was Papa’s fatherly love for her (which was negative) and Henry’s obsession (also negative).

I mean. I don’t study psychology, but it’s there if you look for long enough.

(EDIT - also at some point after El/Will leaving, Mike probably decided it was easier to stay as her boyfriend, because everything was so messed up and Will wasn’t reaching out, etc etc)

EDIT PART 2 - thinking about the way parental love (for us, and the love/relationship that exists between the parents too) in our childhood influencing romantic love/relationship in adulthood, if El didn’t experience true parental love from any of her parental figures pre-lab escape, then it makes sense that she is desperately searching for what she never had. She tries to find it in Mike. She finally gets it from Hopper and Joyce. That lines up with all those parallels in the show between Mike, and El’s parental figures. Boom 👀

ALSOOOO taking the above psychology analysis of parents love influencing us, we also need to remember that Mike arguably feels neglected (I won’t go in to too much detail about that because it’s been talked about before). His parents don’t seem to show much genuine interest in his feelings or wellbeing unless he is in serious danger, or extremely upset (and it’s consistently his mom who shows up in these moments). So, he has this attachment with his mom yet she never seems to be there unless he needs help. Like a real life super hero. Is El the replacement here? I mean…….. like I said I don’t have a psychology degree or anything but I think I’m on to something here haha 😂 both have mother/father issues omg. This is a codependent relationship in the absolute worst way. Because it’s platonic. It could be healing, but instead it’s destructive and hurts both of them because they’re forcing each other (and themselves) to be something they’re not. Aaaaaaaaah

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide���worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

[ryukodragon]

Regarding Sandy...

Pieces have been falling into place for a long time now, but I feel like I can put something coherent together about it skjdnjkf

And I want to reassure all Sandy fans - this is NOT a bash-fest! It’s more a character-moment-analysis, which isn’t always flattering, but I will bring up good points too!

While reading the updated chapters of BCB, one sequence caught my eye in Unfulfilled Fantasy Part 2:

As a casual reader, it’s cute that Sandy first spoke to Mike while he was doodling a picture of her. She even brings it up and compliments how good he is at drawing!

But as a narrative artist, it’s interesting... that she noticed his drawing on his perfect A+ assignment.

What follows is her reaching out to him more, sharing lunch, and complimenting his hard work and high grades. She laments that her own grades aren’t nearly as high - and Mike jumps at the chance to help her study. Thus begins a sweet, genuine friendship!

(Unfulfilled Fantasy Part 3)

Now, of course, this DOES paint Sandy in a manipulative light - after all, she WAS best friends with Daisy (who also used to help Sandy with her studies) before Mike became relevant. And what happened there?

(Pillow Talk)

(Model Girlfriend)

Looks like Daisy became less important to Sandy than vice-versa. Owch!

Does that mean Sandy is a flighty friend who only pursues those who help her achieve her own goals, and once their purpose is done, they get dropped like a hot potato?

Well, possibly - but I don’t think it’s the entirety of Sandy’s personality, nor is it entirely her fault, per se.

(To The Top)

We only see this “you must succeed” side of Sandy’s mother after she has moved away and grown a little older. Even so, that doesn’t necessarily mean (as of this post) that her parents changed. It’s reasonable to consider the possibility that, because of her parents’ pressure to become successful, Sandy has always had a drive to win.

After all, we’ve seen how badly she handles “losing”, which can include everything from lower grades and losing a single life in an arcade game, to unsatisfactory photos and playful foot races with her boyfriend...

(To The Top) (Time Out)

(Model Girlfriend)

(Model Girlfriend)

I mean, certainly, we’ve all felt embarrassed about underperforming - but Sandy takes it quite personally. The pressure of this model life seems to preoccupy her, even while talking with Mike on the phone about missing him, wanting to go back to the good old days. As he’s sympathizing with her and promising lighthearted plans, her attention goes back to the fashion magazine.

(To The Top)

Now, THIS moment here is NOT a dig at Sandy not paying enough attention to her long distance boyfriend! Multi-tasking while on the phone is very commonplace! What’s interesting is that, while listening to Mike offer ideyas for a visit and all the simple joys of life they can indulge in... Sandy visibly reaches back to the fashion magazine. The thing that takes up so much of her time and energy.

It’s important to her.

And when she becomes successful, she’s practically glowing!

(Model Girlfriend)

She’s good at modelling! She excels so much that people are asking her for help! Sandy doesn’t have to ask anyone to help her be a better model! Certainly there is a huge team involved behind photo shoots and fashion shows, but in terms of being a model-in-demand, it all comes from Sandy herself. In her own words, “I’ve got it!”

So, Sandy has found something she can do on her own without relying on anyone else directly to teach her how. This part of her life that is so important to her comes to her naturally! What a thrill for a teenager to discover and embrace about herself! Her confidence is through the roof! What could possibly happen to suggest that anything about her life is less-than-perfect?

(Boy Toy)

Well... maybe she’s embracing her blossoming career too much. Or, perhaps she doesn’t know how to balance work with relationships - no one’s perfect, right?

But Sandy has to be.

So when she realizes something’s seriously wrong with a big part of her perfect life - say, paying attention to Mike - she DOES try to make it right!

(Class of 2008)

(Model Girlfriend)

(Witch Hunt)

Then... why so many unanswered texts? Why the inconsistent calls? If Mike is important to her, why does he feel more and more like he’s being left behind (even if he never openly admits it unless it’s a pencil-sketched nightmare)?

(Dial Tone)

Has he lost relevance to Sandy, as he fears? Has Sandy grown so much into her life away from Mike, her life as a model, that she has in fact outgrown him?

(Model Girlfriend)

Maybe.

(Witch Hunt)

And if that’s true - if Sandy has realized this during her last in-person visit, it explains why she hasn’t cut ties with Mike. Why she’s reluctant to address their situation.

Why she lets this go on, even if Mike tells her he needs her, because with enough time, he’ll backtrack and insist that everything’s fine, and that’s all she needs to keep this going.

Why perhaps, just like Mike, she doesn’t want to admit it. It’s because...

(Model Girlfriend)

Sandy has never handled losing very well.

[saby-chan]

Why the ATLA comics fail when it comes to Zuko and his family

To whom ever took their time to actually stop and read this post, thank you in advance for not skipping my post and willing to stay and read my humble opinion! I hope I won’t disappoint you!

As a relatively newcomer to the ATLA fanbase since 2020, I’ve come across a lot of interesting debates, comments and rants about the show, characters and fandom in general, but nothing has captivated me as much as the dumpster-on-fire that are the ATLA comics, more specifically: The Promise and The Search. 

On one hand we have the hardcore fans who want them to be animated or serialized into the Netflix live action, praising the comics for the new views and subject matters they’ve brought into the show’s lore, while on the other hand we have the furious Azula fandom who is really angry for the fact that best girl didn’t get the redemption arc she rightfully deserved so much after the painful event that was the Last Agni Kai and the even more angry fans of the Urzai ship (yeah, the people who actually ship Zuko’s parents unironically) who hated the retconning of the show’s cannon since the comics basically took a huge fat dump on what was previously established as official cannon, when the Search entered the scene, but between these two sides, who has the more valid point? In the end, are the comics good cannon or bad written fanfiction?

Well... Here are my two cents on this matter since I myself happen to be an Azula and Zuko fan and had huge expectations from these comics (since I wanted more from my fave hot-headed fiery siblings duo) but ended up disappointed: the comics are indeed a huge mess and actually bad written fanfiction when it comes to Zuko and his family! Don’t click off yet, because I actually documented the reasons why exactly the comics fail in this area:

1. The author of these comics is not part of the BryKe duo

Yes, I would like to start with the fact that if you actually take a second to look up who in the heck took the time to write these two books, you won’t find Bryan, nor Mike, but a fellow man named Gene Yang. This is important because while the wiki of both The Promise and The Search state BryKe as the creators, that doesn’t mean that they were the actual minds behind these comics, but rather because ATLA is their “baby” and these comics involve their characters, over which they have copyright. Mr. Yang here is the actual brain behind the plot, as the main writer, which explains why we find huuuuge inconsistencies between the show lore and the comics, especially Zuko wise.

My main issue with Mr. Yang isn’t that he isn’t BryKe specifically, but because he did an unforgivable mistake in his writing process: He projected himself into Zuko’s character, based on the relationship Zuko had with his father. This is a documented fact from an interview in which he explains that he sees himself and his dad’s relationship into Zuko and Ozai and used that when writing their interactions and built Zuko’s character in the comics. And this is wrong because when you have an already very developed and complex character such as Zuko, you can’t just come in and be like “Oh, I was an angsty teen just like him in my teenage years, fighting with my dad and whatnot, so he must have the same thought process as me!”. NO! This is bad fanfiction writer behavior! Zuko has his own personality and philosophy, which he developed over the course of 3 seasons and is not defined by only 1 unfortunate aspect of his past, so you can’t just base his whole mindset and actions off of your own personal experience just because you had the same daddy issues he had!

2. The whole “Promise that you will kill me if I turn out like my dad!” nonsense in The Promise

Reason number 2 why these comics fail and go under the category of “bad fanfiction” is because they fail to convey the core essence of the source material. The whole point of Zuko’s redemption was that he realized the wrongdoings of his ancestors and his own mistakes. He outgrew his desire of gaining his father’s acknowledgement in favor of choosing his own destiny. Having him worry that he’ll turn into his father is utter nonsense and feels like poor angsty drama material for the sake of angst. At this point in time, Zuko has overcame that obstacle in his life a long time ago and should be at the level where he himself is the “Uncle Iroh” for other people and in no way someone concerned of becoming their own worst enemy!

Not only that, but the whole point of Aang’s journey and the story of the show as a whole was to teach us, the viewers, the importance of forgiveness, empathy and love in life. Aang didn’t spare Ozai, aka “the ultimate evil” just to flex in front of his pals or because he is a “ 12 y/o vegan pacifist monk kid”, but because he knew that killing someone, no matter of what they did or wanted to do, wouldn’t restore balance into the Universe, on the contrary, him killing the villain would have meant perpetuating the “endless cycle of hate” that plagued the world. So having Aang promise to kill his best friend in case “they turned into an evil maniac like their dad” contradicts Aang’s whole character and it’s a nonsense that throws into the trash what we’ve learnt throughout the entire TV series.

3. Azula deserved (and was supposed) to have a redemption ark

This might still be pure speculation, but I count it as a documented reason because I’ve heard quite a few people saying that there should’ve been a book 4 in the show, aka “Book 4: Air”, and no, it wasn’t The Search, but actually Zuko and Azula’s journey as Zuko helps his younger sister heal her broken mind by being her very own “Uncle Iroh”. Sure, they prolly were going to end up looking for Ursa, but the journey should’ve ended with them actually being happy and a family again and not the bs we got in The Search where a still very unstable Azula runs away and becomes the “Next Joker”! The only problem is that M. Night had to pop up and curse the world with his movie, which forced BryKe to delay the project (and eventually abandoned it in favor of Korra).

All in all, either if BryKe had this preplanned or not, it made sense for Azula to get a redemption ark, she deserved it because she was just a broken 14 y/o child! If Katara’s mom’s murderer deserved to be forgiven, so did this poor child who had no fault for what happened to her since she had a dysfunctional family! What Gene Yang did in his poorly written fanfiction was to just antagonize a broken child, turning her into a monster for the sake of friggin angst!

4. The Search is the worst of the two, being flat af character wise

And finally, getting to the point that I personally find the most annoying about these comics: The Search. This one... This one is a mess on a hella lot many levels, and just to list a few: characters are flat as fudge, being either black as vanta black (like Ozai and Azula) or pure white like Gene’s Gary Stue OC, Mr Ikem (or how I like to call him, IKEA man) and his ‘victim’ rendition of Ursa, Azula gets to suffer more for no reason (see reason number 3 to why I find this as a no no), Ursa’s whole character sucks ass (man, I could write a whole thesis on why Yang’s version of her is terrible and doesn’t match the strong woman we got in the show) and Zuko does morally wrong stuff (my man literally used his unstable sister to bribe their dad into spitting info about Ursa... Show Zuko would never do that!;-;)

Oh boy, as a person who’s seen a ton of anime and other media and read many books, I can’t begin on how much I despise this type of writing: flat characters are the worst!

 ATLA characters in the show are nothing close to being flat! What I mean by that is that none of them fall perfectly into pure white (aka goodest of good characters with no imperfections) or vanta black (aka lowest and darkest twisted monsters out there), each of them are various shades of grey (like Aang who is a very light grey because despite being a very kind and nice character, he still isn’t a “perfect hero” since he ran away from his duties, practiced tax fraud with Toph, had insecurities and even threatened to kill people on ocassions like with the sand benders who took Appa) and this is a good choice because that prevents them from becoming what’s globally known as Mary Sues and Gary Stues (aka those either “perfect” characters with no flaws and/or unlimited power, or the twisted monsters full of flaws).

And the other reason why many other people hate The Search: it literally negates previously established cannon. And here comes my short essay on why this comic fails Zuko’s family (since we’ve already talked enough about Zuko himself).

In cannon and even interviews with BryKe, it was clearly stated that Zuko’s family was “once happy”. Where is this “once happy” family in The Search? All I see is pain, deception, lies and betrayal, nothing close to anything that resembles happiness. Okay, some of you might come in and say that “It’s because it was never the case! It was only lies and Zuko trying to convince himself that he didn’t live in hell forever!” and here is WHERE YOU WERE ALL WRONG! And why? Because, my dear fella, where were depicted the flashbacks of Zuko’s “happy family” in The Beach? Ember Island. And what do we know and had been even quoted in the show?  "Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you." (direct quote from the show). Exactly, no matter who you are or how hard you try, you can’t hide your true self when you are on the Ember Island, best example being Azula, who’s impenetrable though shell cracked and revealed the true vulnerable child that was underneath. If Azula couldn’t resist the “spell of the island”, no one can. So this means that Zuko’s family was indeed happy once and yes, Ozai wasn’t always the douchebag we got to know in Season 3 (I have a whole nother essay on my theories regarding what could be his real past story and why he’s actually the “Zuko” of his generation, based on stuff I gathered from old wiki entries and character analyses I made, but that’s for another time, lemme know if ya’ll are interested).

And what I guess is the biggest proof why The Search did this family’s past trash is comics Ursa herself. My dude, if this woman were indeed the victim of years of endless abuse and never loved her husband, I guarantee you that she would’ve been closer to what we saw in Todoroki’s mom from BNHA and Zuko would’ve gotten that scar or even worse long before the Agni Kai, not from his “daddy dearest”, but from “mommy dearest” herself, because no sane woman would be soo affectionate and attached to a child that’s the perfect copy of their abuser, sepecially appearance wise (again see Todoroki’s mom’s case from BNHA because the stories are really similar) and in no way would’ve she been willing to sacrifice her life for said child’s sake. With this ocassion, I remind ya’ll folks that according to the ancient ATLA cannon wikis on Nick’s site, Ozai was designed with Zuko’s appearance in mind, being meant to be like a “grown up scarless version” of Zuko. So yeah, remember this with a grain of salt that whenever you simp over grown up Zuko, you involuntary simp for Ozai too.

So yeah, I guess this kinda concludes my “not so short” rant about why the comics fail and are bad fanfiction. Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments and if you agree, feel free to leave a like and even reblog.

Bye bye and remember that Momo is the true strongest character of the show!

 Saby out.

[king-litchi]

Picture source : @Mnine5 (Meijo) in Twitter

Note : actually, it’s not a request but I was bored and I wondered « what kind of person would the SNK characters on the social medias be » - soo here we go

Sorry for my english…I am french and I still learning - please forgive me and protect your eyes 🤧

Warning : (12+) social media can be dangerous

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN ON SOCIAL MEDIA 💥

Eren

Instagram : friends, family, abs, outfits, travel….king of instagram, super popular on instagram, everyone follow him but he only follows his friends and instagram he finds interesting, over time it has become an influence, Eren has like a million followers on Insta @IamErenJaeger

Snapchat :  « who has a netflix account ? » in story, selfies with friends at all kinds of events, often takes pictures of Mikasa and Armin by surprise, never puts a filter on for him or for the people he snaps, everyone can watch his story and comment (public baby), already received nudes… @ErenJaegeeer

Whatsapp : he is in all group discussions but rarely answers, when he answers it is surely because the conversation becomes funny or because they talk about Jean and then it degenerates (when too far between Eren and Jean everyone leaves the group and they end up « wait…everyone is gone…? ») and a new groupe is created but the fight starts again (others are like « here we go again » )

Twitter :  can easily get upset in a debate, is not afraid to say what he thinks, it is blocked by a lot of people (please take away his twitter), has a large fanbase : Jaegerist (@CaptainFlochForster is the leader fanbase…best to avoid them.) it’s very simple : either you’re wrong or you’re not right @ErenJaeger

Tumblr :  He is not really known on tumblr, follow only his friends and is followed only by his friends. Does a lot of reblog tumblr he likes and post a lot kind of sick jokes like « What is the only dog you can eat? - A Hot Dog » (20 followers…)

Armin

Instagram : sharing photos of his travels around the world, a lot of ocean scenery, monuments like the Eifel Tower, does not put a photo of him or his friends, his instagram is public to share his beautiful photos with the world  (2,5K followers) @ArminVibe

Twitter : Sharing conspiracy theories with other twittos, if by misfortune a conspiracy ends up in TT you can be sure that it will tweet all evening, twitter reveals its dark side, It can deal with all subjects and he’s gonna take his time to make you understand that you’re WRONG @ArminArlett

Snapchat : he doesn’t know why he has a snapchat, if you send him a snap photo he will just look without answering but if you start a discussion he will probably lose your message if you have not recorded (his fault, but he really does not do it on purpose, he does not really drag on this social media)

Whatsapp : quite active on whatsapp, in groups it is the one that stays the longest active, uses a correct grammar, always has time for someone who needs to talk (a colossal heart…)

Tumblr : very popular on tumblr with his famous landscape photos, he also likes to share theories with whoever wants it, has created a discussion group of which Erwin and Hanji are part (these three are often found in several discussion groups…), is subscribed to Annie

Mikasa

Instagram : her account is private (like most of his social medias) if she does not know you be sure that she will never accept a subscription request (and she receives a lot of subscription requests), sometimes post photos of Eren and her, sometimes with Armin and a picture with the whole group together, has maximum 5 publications and has maximum 100 subscriptions and she subscribes to only 25 people (who are they?) and her favorite girl’s band @MikasaAckerman

Twitter : is fan of girl’s band, a twitter just to follow their news, she has already been on top tweet (never knew why and honestly she doesn’t care), her account is totally private but she receives a lot of follow requests (she declines) @MikasaAckerman

Snapchat : does not do a lot of selfie but she likes cute filters, often does black snap with dark quotes « the sun always shines after a dark night » , tends to reply 2 days after being sent a snap (🤡) yet she makes the flames with Eren (already 834 flames) so she just ignores snaps

Whatsapp : she is in full of group discussions, but always reads without answering (”Read”), she often ends up leaving the discussion groups (but there is always someone to add her to the group, often Sasha)

Tumblr : has a fake account, by the way she is super popular, she posts her covers of her favorite songs @Mikasong (fucking great voice), already has a small community

Reiner

Instagram : is totally subscribed to Emily Ratajkowski (but who is not?), was the first happy to know that the likes are hidden, kind to like a lot of ass and body fitness (…<.<) it’s sure Historia blocked him (probably deserved) @ReinerBraun

Twitter : profile photo of a football player, often mentions his friends, and ALWAYS mentions Conny for challenges « Dare or not to ring your neighbor’s door at 3:00am and ask him for sugar », the kind to tweets like « Nicki Minaj or Cardi b ? » @ReinerTheBigBrother

Snapchat : You see this guy who makes a lot of views on snap and who everyone asks for publicity? Yes, it’s Reiner. Become master of the screenshot (already found himself in a complicated situation because of it…this awkward moment where you catch something you shouldn’t capture…), also receives nudes (btw 🤡) he never watches stories @ReineerGg

Whatsapp : he often ends up being ejected from discussion groups for his dubious humour and is often the victim of Ymir’s blackmail (screenshots can be fatal…)

Tumblr : he doesn’t even know what it’s for

Bertholdt

Instagram : has two instagram accounts, the first is his real account, he only follows his friends and is only followed by his friends and the second is a (secret) fan account on Annie Leonhart @fannie-kickass

Snapchat : goes selfie on occasions like birthdays (party) or when he is with friends, likes animal filters, snap everyone and without warning, during the evenings with friends he often finds himself in the snap of everyone without his knowledge and discovers him the next day (sleeper pose) @Berth5

Whatsapp : the kind of person to share a lot of petitions like « Hi, Nolan still needs 300,000 signatures to be able to convince his parents to buy him ps5 » (he can’t refuse to share when asked…colossal heart - like Armin <.<), calm in group discussions (is not the type to get involved in an argument, always remains neutral when the situation degenerates), he often speaks with Reiner privately and gives him advice on how to approach Annie - but by the time he decided to send a message to Annie, she had already deleted the application… (legend says he’s still waiting for an answer)

Twitter : if you identify him in a tweet, it will probably not read it but will still like it (why not), he does definitely part of the commentators of entertainment shows or sports matches @Bertholdt

Tumblr : hesitates to create a tumblr but does not really know what he could talk about

Annie

Instagram : shares his training and does not hesitate to make demonstrations of his techniques, is quite popular on instagram, to a lot of publication, post a photo with his father just after each victory with a caption « It is God who gives » ; already has a good community (320K followers), account is certified

Snapchat : never goes on his account, totally professional use, it is his father who manages his snapchat to post in story the videos her training and his official matches with the caption « Little Rocky 🔥 »

Whatsapp : it ended up deleting the app because too much discussion that ends in spam (it will be for a next time Berth)

Tumblr : her little cocoon where she can be herself, the only social media that has her interest, her tumblr is dedicated to the cat, she is a fan @Kitty-Catnnie , the only person in the group to know her tumblr is Armin with whom she sometimes chat

Twitter : She is still on top tweet despite her « Mikasa vs Annie, who wins ??? », she never tweet but retweet a lot of things especially those of Conny, it happens to like the tweets of commentator Jean

Jean

Instagram : if you want to see his account you must first subscribe, generally accept all requests, send quite a lot of DM like « you wouldn’t have a bandage because I hurt myself by falling in love with you » sometimes succeeds other times it ends blocked ( or screenshots that end up on Twitter) @JeanOfficiel

Snapchat : He was blocked by Mikasa and Eren (not for the same reasons), made the flames with everyone (but the most with Marco), has already tried to snap Mikasa in secret (it is caught in the act), loves selfies @Ihateeren

Whatsapp : the kind who doesn’t look to whom he sends a message and always has the wrong discussion, so becomes panicked « DONT READ!!! » accidentally already sent a nude in a group discussion (unfortunately screenshots have been made) Eren laughed about this story for several months like « How is Jeanbo doing ? He’s grown up since last time? » (he doesn’t talk about Jean…you know…)

Tumblr : he created a popular mini series on tumblr « You prefer…? » and also « If you were… » (the concept is very cool and we can do it with all the subjects), made a lot reblog, reblog ALL covers of Mikasa

Twitter : has been blocked by half of the tweetos sphere after several heated debates, is one of the people who comment on the shows mainly reality TV (he does it with passion) « SANDRA LEAVES WITH ANTONIO W/O MONEY !!!! IT’S A FUCKIIIING JOKE ?????!!!!! #TheVillaOfBrokenHeart2 » or « I’m the only one who hates Mike ? #MonacoShore » , it’s that kind of tweet that Annie likes) @JeanKirschtein

Marco

Instagram : accepts only requests from friends, his account is private, sharing small moments of his life with friends and families, use many hashtag like #AllThatGlittersIsNotGoldEvenJean (but nobody understands what he means)

Snapchat : often comments his friends’ stories, is the kind to come talk to you if you put a dark snap like « cruel world »

Whatsapp : often receives private messages like « Marco, are you there? » it always ends in long discussions (« The confidant ») he knows how to find the right words, it is active and always “available” if someone needs it

Twitter : always makes Jean’s defense on twitter, the kind of person to be part of a fanbase (like HarryPotter), uses hastag LGBT+

Tumblr : super popular on tumblr, he makes headcanons and screenplays of his favorite books, series and movies, has a preference for Yaoi but he can make any request (2K followers) @HalfMan

Conny

Instagram : very very popular on instagram thanks to his account with Sacha where they share their farce and does not hesitate to challenge, they post the pranks they make to their friends (1M followers) they are not yet certified @TwoDummies , he has a second private account :  with just family and friends (arround 55 followers) @hismotherson

Snapchat : the kind of person who does a snap at 2H00 of the mat « who for the flames », has a lot of snap discussions, always makes stories that ends badly like « I’m going to ride a bike » and in his last snap he ends up in emergency… (true story)

Whatsapp : has an unimaginable number of “caption this” for ALL situations, it sometimes created discussion groups (it’s just that it prepares a stupidity) otherwise is not super active but will always answer if it has a message

Twitter : clash with everyone « Your mother was pregnant for 9 months of your big head but you can’t stand a joke ? SHAME » (blocked), king of challenges, makes all the challenges where it is mentioned, retweet all the « Dare or not… » of Reiner, uses a lot of abbreviation, he invented a lot of hastag like #AlphaLevi and people have fun with his hastag

Tumblr : his more than empty tumblr, has no profile photo, and compulsive liker, it’s literally a fake account for liking funny things @JustConny

Sasha

Instagram : receives many comments under the photos of his joint account with Conny like « POTAETOS GIRL WE LOVE U » and « POTAETOS POWER », often pranks and ends up in the account, has a second private instafood account and also post photos with Nikolo @MadamePatate

Snapchat : oh my dear, he gets into a lot of trouble (funny drama) so stay connected for his “Storytime” evenings (we often hear Ymir commenting in the background with sarcasm and Conny’s laugh)

Whatsapp : the kind of person to send in a « bbiad » discussion (I’ll be back in a bit) and never come back in the discussion, written in abbreviation, loves group conversations

Twitter : has disabled twitter because of a "caption” that Conny posted on it (potaetos girl exists thanks to a tweet) but there reactivated a week later, tweets like a dramaqueen « WHAAAAT @netflix SEASON TWO IS COMING OUT TOMORROW BUT NOT TODAY  ???? WHYYYYYYYYY ! I’m never gonna be able to wait till tomorrow to eat my popcorns frkrkellelrlrl BUY ME POPCORNS NETFLIX BUUUY », has already been on top tweet #potatoesgirl

Tumblr : victim of her reputation even on tumblr, reblog a lot of post food and potential future challenges from Conny, often finds “caption this” with her face and always reacts with a more than dramatic surprise « SHIT AGAIN ??! »

Historia

Instagram : receives a lot of DM from people she doesn’t know, never accept them, like all the photos of her friends, you can see her insta only if you subscribe…(15K followers) @RealHistoria

Snapchat : renames all her friends by cute nicknames, the kind that snaps the place where she is or her food with a « have a nice day », queen of selfie, likes the filters

Whatsapp : uses a lot of emoji, hearts have become a punctuation, in group discussions she often comments « Ymir !! » after a sarcastic comment, tries to temper when the situation becomes too stormy

Twitter : avoids twitter like the plague, has disabled her account, reactivates it on occasions before losing interest once again, in fact her account is a fake where she is named @christaLenz

Tumblr : pretty active, committed LGBT+ activist, reblog testimonials, lots of likes, reblog Mikasa covers a.k.a Mikasong

Ymir

Instagram : a lot of photos of Historia (it looks like a fan account), often comments the photos of her friends (unfortunately for them) @Ymir

Snapchat : a lot of selfie with Historia, if a fight or something awkward happens in front of her she will be the first to make a snap (and no scruple to put it in her story), if Reiner is the King of awkward screenshots then she is the Queen for INTENTIONAL screenshots, her memories are filled with compromising photos on EVERYONE

Whatsapp : Do you remember the screenshots on snap? Well it is on Whatsapp that they find their usefulness. Can send them to a discussion group as if nothing had happened but her specialty is a service for her silence (yes blackmail) it’s never anything bad, but enough to piss off the victim (who is often Reiner)

Tumblr : forgot her password and honestly she doesn’t want to find it, why did she tumblr ?

Twitter : she is often upset about debates, often sarcastic in her retweets, « Caption This », always the last word, she is very popular on Twitter, she’s already been on top tweet (because a drama with her identity) @LadyYmir

Levi

Instagram : does not really look at his newsline, Instagram in black and white and very orderly (#GrandArt), his account is public but no one can comment on his photos @LeviAckerman

Snapchat : a block Hanji (too many snap video that turned into spam), to rename all his contacts by nicknames like « Brat Number one », « Brat Number 2 » (etc.) and Zeke « shithead » nothing abnormal, It has already posted a snap of his head in front camera (had not done it on purpose) deleted after realizing…(especially after receiving plenty of notifications), he and Zeke attack each other by proxy story (no one understands…but it’s funny to read)

Whatsapp : is always “offline” or “busy” but will always respond if sent a message, probably blocked Zeke on all social medias

Tumblr : shares his passion for tea and cleanliness, loves the healthy atmosphere of tumblr, has quite a fan, reblog and subscribes to Armin @TeaWithLevi

Twitter : Tweet by accident (in the pocket >.<) like « jf’dyt’rimsjrdy’yfgi » but other thant he almost never tweets, but when he does it is to complain or creepy « today I learned that a lollipop breaks easily like the legs of a clown » (…we don’t want understand), he’s already been on top tweet with the #AlphaLevi like « #AlphaLevi can surround his ennemies. Alone. » ; « #AlphaLevi makes the onions cry » ; « #AlphaLevi can go up downstairs » (we thank Conny for this hashtag) @LeviAckerman

Hanji

Instagram : honestly if you want to do a search on someone you have to check with Hanji, FBI of the net (”the stalker”), its account is public : post photos with Levi (who has to be taken by surprise) mentions everyone on its posts, photo with Moblit during their experiences (like “Break”), its instagram looks cool @OfficerZoe

Snapchat : snap often its scientific experiments (and other) and we always hear Moblit screaming in the background « Hanji-san! Back ! » , they like to comment on the stories of Levi and Zeke, already tried to make the flames with Levi and Erwin (tried without success)

Whatsapp : spends its time doing focus groups before it degenerates, its favorite pairs are Eren/ Jean and Levi/ Zeke but never has a battery

Tumblr : strangely its tumblr is very serious, they share its hypotheses and theories on scientific subjects, they talk about its experiences and future scientific experiments, they post the results of its research, has its own focus group (Erwin is one of them) @DrHZoe

Twitter : @Dr.troublegirl everything is in the pseudo, will accumulate and then become spectator of a massacre, his catchphrase is « you’re implying… »

Erwin

Instagram : it is very orderly and pleasant to look at, post works of art that crosses his path, does not often check his actuality but when he does it everyone is happy…(always the little comment that makes a good mood and a little like)

Snapchat : his story is public but only his “friends” can comment, snap his visits to the museum and snap a lot the streetart but is not really active when he makes “snap discussion” @Eyebrow (account created by Hanji…)

Whatsapp : uses impeccable punctuation and grammar, often discusses with Armin on intellectual topics and confronts their assumption he is the only one who is not part of a discussion group with ALL the characters (just a few groups like Hanji/Levi/Mike), from time to time he receives family photos of Niail and talks about old times

Twitter : activist totally committed to good causes ( #blacklivesmatter) (#justicepourAdama ), retweet the political news, has already tweeted with the #AlphaLevi @ErwinSmitt

Tumblr : pretty active, post on subjects that fascinate him (like history), his tumblr is very interesting and orderly, proposes developed theories and some people (students like Conny) go there to find answers to their homework… @Sasageyo

Zeke / Sieg

Instagram : created an insta to talk with Eren but he got blocked after commenting on one of his photos « Beautiful sweetren, you grow up day by day, signed your beloved brother » didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his instagram after that ; his instagram is very neat : instafood & instabook but doesn’t have many followers because his instagram account is private (like 150 follower) @ZekeJaerger

Snapchat : made stories to address to Eren instead of sending him directly in private (didn’t really understand the concept) that’s how to start the attacks between him and Levi, Eren ended up deleting the app to him

Whatsapp : uses impeccable grammar (also blocked Livai on all its social medias), tends to read without answering « Read since two days »

Twitter :  tweets like « I am now on twitter. » or  « Good Morning Twitter. » and lots of  « Join me on Candy Crush » , he also likes to comment on his favorite culinary shows with a lot hastag, honestly he is one of the people who blocked Eren on Twitter but does not really assume it  « What ? Weird…I must have hit the wrong button… » yes of course… @ZekeJaeger

Tumblr : reblog Erwin’s posts which he finds very interesting, to himself his own theories which he confronts with Erwin in discussion groups, is part of a quite popular team on tumblr “GenshiKyojin”, (with leader Eren Kruger) #uses #too #much #hastag (#like #me) @KemenoNoKyojin

[starring-movies]

The Haunting of Bly Manor: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Episode 7 - The Two Faces, Part Two

Episode 7 of The Haunting of Bly Manor is mainly a continuation of Episode 3, which has the same name, as we explore more of Peter and Rebecca’s backstory and a lot more questions also start to get answered.

The episode starts as Dani has been tied up and is coming back into consciousness after Miles (possessed by Peter) hit her over the head at the end of Episode 6. As Peter is trying to set his plan in motion, for him and Rebecca to possess Miles and Flora’s bodies permanently, he suddenly gets thrown into a memory. Unlike Hannah, Rebecca and Flora who ‘dream-hop’ through many of their memories, Peter only ever gets put into one of his memories.

The memory that Peter repeatedly gets pulled into is the memory of a time when his mother came to visit him. Peter’s mother knocks on the door and when Peter lets her in, she tells him “I’m out” and that this time she’s out “forever”, because she says “I suppose they’d say I’m cured”. It’s never explicitly made clear where she’s “out” from, but it’s most likely that she’s been released from a mental institution for her failure to help her son when she knew that her husband was molesting him (which is something that is insinuated later in the episode).

Peter’s mother tells Peter that she needs money from him now that she’s been released and so she blackmails him, saying that she’ll show Henry his “juvenile records”, if he doesn’t give her any money.

The scene then moves to the memory which Rebecca has entered, where we find out that “priceless heirlooms” have been stolen from the manor and that Peter had been embezzling money from Henry. From this it becomes apparent that in Episode 5 when Hannah saw Peter stealing a necklace from Charlotte’s vanity, he was stealing it so that he could sell it and give the money to his other to keep her quiet. It seems that Peter was stealing the “priceless heirlooms”, such as the necklace, to give the money to his mother. However, the “quarter million pounds” that Peter embezzled from Henry most likely really was for the purpose that he said - so that he could run away to make a life in America with Rebecca and free himself from his mother’s blackmailing.

A small little detail; is that after Rebecca finds out that Peter is dead, we see her zoned out in one of Miles and Flora’s lessons. On the desk that Rebecca is sitting behind, there are some word blocks that spell out “redrum”, which is a nod to the 1980’s film ‘The Shining’. Mike Flanagan created The Haunting of Bly Manor and also directed the 2019 sequel to The Shining, Doctor Sleep.

It’s interesting to note that in The Shining “redrum” spells “murder” backwards, and Rebecca ends up being murdered by Peter.

This is not the only reference to The Shining, as there was another one in Episode 1. When we see Dani leaving the hostel which she’s been staying at, as she’s shutting the door behind her, we can see that her room number was 217. In the original book of The Shining by Steven King, the haunted room that Jack Torrance enters is room 217 (but in the movie it’s room 237).

As well as these two instances, there is yet another reference to The Shining, also in Episode 1. When Miles and Flora are locking Dani in the cupboard, we get a shot of them just before the shut the door on her. The shot of Miles and Flora standing side by side with one another evokes the memorable shot of the twins in The Shining.

Rebecca tries to suggest to Peter that they still continue their previous plan to run off to America and tells him that she doesn’t mind if people think that she’s “some batty old witch who talks to thin air”. Peter tells her that they can’t do that because he “can’t leave Bly” and he “can’t get past the end of the drive”, but then he discovers that he can possess Rebecca’s body just like he can with Miles’. The two of them devise a plan where Peter will possess Rebecca’s body and he’ll try to leave while still in her body. They carry out the plan the next morning but as Rebecca runs to the boundary of the grounds, Peter is ejected from her body.

This brings up a question of confusion, as in Episode 9 Dani manages to leave Bly with The Lady in the Lake in partial possession of her body and neither of them were thrown out from Dani’s body. Since Dani is able to leave the grounds, the reason that Peter was pushed out of Rebecca’s body must be because he exited her body himself. As he was about to cross the boundary he probably came to the realisation that if he left while still in Rebecca’s body, then he and Rebecca will never be able to be properly together again and so he pulled himself out so that he could think of another way that they could be together. However it also could be that Dani stopped Viola’s gravity well when she invited Viola into herself (we see all the other ghosts are released when this happens in Episode 9), but this still wouldn’t explain Peter’s oddly quiet reaction when he gets pushed out of Rebecca’s body at the manor’s boundary.

This would also make sense of a lot of a few other things as well. It would make sense of the odd reaction that Peter gives after the failed attempt at escape, when Rebecca says “it didn’t work” - he doesn’t look particularly sad that it didn’t work, even though he was so enthusiastic to finally be able leave and be with Rebecca. It would also make sense of when Older Jamie says that “Peter had not been back to find her, he had left her at the boundary of Bly”. Peter disappears for so long because he’s trying to come up with a different plan for them to be able to be with one another.

After trying to leave the manor in Rebecca’ body doesn’t work, for whatever reason, Peter then comes back to Rebecca with his new plan. Peter explains that when he tries to take possession of Rebecca’s body, neither of them mean to, but he always tries to push her out and she always tries to push him out and so the possession is “temporary”. He tells her that there is a way that they can be together forever and able to touch each other but to do this he says he needs to be given permanent possession of her body and for this to happen she needs to invite him in and give him consent. However when he’s explaining this to Rebecca, Peter doesn’t explain that his grand plan for them to be together means that he’ll take over her body and they’ll only be together by being tucked away in a memory together.

After being given consent from Rebecca to have permanent control over her body, which he gets through the phrase “it’s you, it’s me, it’s us”, Peter carries out his plan. Rebecca gets tucked away “in a memory of them”, and although they are together and can touch one another, this is not what she wanted (nor is this what he really promised to her when he got her to give him her consent) and it’s not ideal for him either as he is now left in Rebecca’s body “here, alone”.

Since Peter is now alone in Rebecca’s body and he doesn’t want to continue to be alone, he decides that he’ll drown her body so that they’ll both become ghosts and they will both be together that way. We see Rebecca (possessed by Peter) crying as she walks into the lake, and then we see Peter crying in bed with Rebecca in the tucked away memory, which is how we know that Peter was in possession of Rebecca’s body when she drowned.

But then as the water starts to enter Rebecca’s body’s lungs, Peter leaves and Rebecca herself is forced back into control of her own body again. We see just what type of a person he is, as he leaves her on her own to feel the pain of the drowning. In a parallel to this, this shows us just how much Rebecca cares for Flora, as in Episode 9 she tells Flora that she’ll take over her body before she’s dragged into the lake and she’ll feel everything for her - a completely selfless action considering that she’s already had to endure the pain once.

Like Peter and Hannah, Rebecca immediately turns into a ghost and we see her mourning her body and the betrayal of her trust, as she stands by the side of the lake and cries. This explains to us why, when Rebecca was possessing Flora’s body, she always walked to the lake - because she sits by the lake and mourns her life.

This is the most prominent example of the love versus possession conversation that Dani and Jamie were having in Episode 3. Peter says that he loves Rebecca, but he displays no true love for her at all, to ask for her complete trust and consent and then to betray her by stealing her life. Peter is acting completely on selfishness and is treating Rebecca like a possession who he manipulate for his own personal benefit. To truly love someone is to want the absolute best for them, even if that comes at your own expense; but when Peter makes this decision he isn’t thinking about Rebecca at all, he’s only thinking about his own desires and loneliness.

After Peter drowns her body, Rebecca returns once more to the memory of when Peter gave her Charlotte’s fur coat. The memory was once a very happy one for Rebecca, but now it’s been tainted by Peter’s selfish actions. Rebecca now sees how Peter manipulated her as she says that “I didn’t agree”, she only agreed to them being together not for him to take her life from her.

Peter suddenly gets pulled back into the only memory that he gets pulled into, the memory of his mother coming to visit him. Peter says that from constantly having to return to this memory he feels “like I’m in hell” and his mother says “well, where else would you go”, stating that there is nowhere else that he could go after what he did to to Rebecca.

Peter then gets released from the memory he was being tucked away in and he returns to the attic, where Miles and Flora are in the process of freeing Dani. Peter stops Miles and Flora from letting Dani go and Rebecca returns from her dream hopping.

To try and convince Miles and Flora to give consent for their bodies to be possessed, Peter says that they’ll be able to go to their “forever house” where they’ll be with their parents forever. The “forever house” is a reference to The Haunting of Hill House where Olivia made blueprints of a “forever home” for the family to live in once they got enough money from flipping Hill House (but when Olivia dies, Hill House becomes the forever home). The “forever house/home” is something that is supposed to symbolise safety and family, however in both Hill House and Bly Manor this isn’t really the case. In Hill house the promise of the “forever home” that Olivia dreamt of was never fulfilled; and in Bly Manor the “forever house” that Peter is talking about is just for Miles and Flora to be permanently tucked away in false memories.

Despite Peter’s manipulation, he does know what love really looks like. He tells Miles that, when he’s tucked away in the “forever house” with his parents, he’ll be “with two people who love you so much, so much. That makes you the luckiest man in the world, the richest person, I wish I could be that rich”. Peter recognises that being in a safe place with two people who love you makes you the “richest person” and was something that he never got to experience himself. Not that this makes his behaviour acceptable, but it may from his childhood where Peter developed a distorted view of love and posession, and so this is why he manipulates others and treats them as his possessions - while Peter is supposed to be the conventional ‘villain’, this fleshing out of his past makes his character much more multifaceted and complex, as well as making his actions much less black and white. This added depth and complication is one of the things that makes Bly Manor and its characters so deeply flawed yet extremely relatable.

When Peter takes permanent possession of Miles’ body, when Miles gets up we can see that his right eye is still blue but his left eye is now brown. This is a sign that the person is no longer completely themselves anymore and we see the same thing happen to Dani’s eyes in Episode 9.

We then see Miles (possessed by Peter) walking with Hannah to the well, to try and get her to come to the realisation that she’s dead. He compares Hannah to the cartoon Wile E. Coyote, who would run off a cliff and just keep going, just as Hannah has died (run off the cliff) but she just keeps going and doesn’t become a proper ghost. Miles explains to Hannah that “when Wile E. Coyote looked down, then he’d fall, only when he looked down”, so he tells Hannah that she also needs to look down in order for her to come to terms with her situation and then she’ll also fall (become a ghost). The looking down that Miles wants Hannah to do is not just an actual looking down the well to see her corpse, but this is also a metaphorical looking down of her seeing the ‘big picture’ and for her to stop being in denial.

Hannah finally looks down the well and sees her corpse. She isn’t interrupted (like when Dani interrupted her doing this in Episode 1), but she’s given a proper moment to take in what she’s seeing, and so she is able to come to process and accept her death - just like Peter got to see and accept his body being dragged away by The Lady in the Lake; and just like Rebecca saw and mourned for her body by the side of the lake.

We then return to Flora and Dani in the attic and we find out that Rebecca only pretended to go along with Peter’s plan and possess Flora’s body. Rebecca tells Flora that “no one should ever need that much help”, showing us that she understands true, selfless love and to ask that much of someone is not caring for them at all. This also relates back to what Peter did to Rebecca, he should have never needed “that much help” from Rebecca as to take her entire life from her.

As well as this, it shows us how much Peter is like his mother. Peter’s mother asked too much of him and, in a way, ended up killing him by blackmailing him for money, which is just as he told her that “I hope you know that, late at night, that you killed your own son”. Peter is just as manipulative as his mother when he persuades Rebecca and Miles to trust him so that he can possess their bodies - needing to ask for “that much help” from a person is not love.

You can read my previous The Haunting of Bly Manor posts here:-

Episode 1 - The Great Good Place

Episode 2 - The Pupil

Episode 3 - The Two Faces, Part One

Episode 4 - The Way It Came

Episode 5 - Altar of the Dead

Episode 6 - The Jolly Corner

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[colorfulandblack]

So did you notice how every single song in JATP is dedicated to different character? I'm going to skip all the Dirty Candy cos obviously, and same goes to Caleb's HGC numbers. Bit for the rest:

Now or Never - this is the ultimate and only Sunset Curve song. It's THEM. But also have you read the lyrics?

"Clocks move forward but we don't get older, no" and "When all the days felt black and white those were the best shades of my life" it can be read two way. It's both about 1995 and 2020 and their life and afterlife. It's almost prophetic but you don't know it unless you keep watching the show. Also "we're the revolution that's been singing in the rain" watch out for the rain but cos it's echoed in another song.

Wake Up - so at first this seems to be Julie's song but hear me out. It's not. It was written by Rose, Julie's mom. The lyrics: "And you use your pain, cause it makes you you though I wish I could hold you through it. I know it's not the same you got living to do and I just want you to do it". Rose knew she was going to die and she wanted Julie to keep living. To keep playing music. It's her guidance from beyond the grave. It's precisely why this is the first song Julie sings in a YEAR. Because it's the LAST message her mom left for her. It's Rose's song for Julie.

Bright - this is Alex's song and you can fight me on it. Mind it was written back in the 90s - Luke gives it to Julie because it was one of the songs that Bobby hasn't stolen which means that they either played it before, live when they were alive (which seems sort of unlikely because it has more of a pop sound to it than say Now or Never) or because it was never played to the public before. Because it was private. Now again it wasn't something that was kept a secret either because the band joined Julie on stage and executed the song perfectly and they haven't reversed it before, couldn't have because at this point the boys didn't know they could be seen when playing. They sort of joined last minute. They were standing by and watching Julie to the almost last second. And now the lyrics:

"Sometimes I think I'm falling down I wanna cry, I'm crying out for one more try to feel alive. And when I'm lost and alone I know that I can make it home fight through the dark and find the spark" and "In times like that I doubted myself I felt like I needed some help stuck in my head with nothing left. I feel something around me now so unclear, lifting me out I found the ground I'm marching on" this is Alex, anxious, worrisome Alex who came out to his parents who weren't accepting. And his band was there for him. "I can make it home", home being the garage, his band, his friends. They helped him find his 'ground that he's marching on'. Also, I ain't saying that Alex and Luke dated back in the 90s but they definately dated. Just look at this:

"Life is a risk, but we can take it close my eyes and jump. Together, I think that we can make it, c'mon let's run" and "And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever" WE WILL FIGHT TO SHINE TOGETHER, BRIGHT FOREVER. Shine as in unapologetly being themselves. As being happy and accepted and themselves.

Sure when Julie sings it it's about her incredible talent and trying to get back into the music program but again this song was written back in the 90s. It's Alex's song.

The Band is Back - Reggie's Jam. This is pretty self explanatory and the song might be simplistic and upbeat and very beach, summer like but is not without dept. The boys don't know where they stand with the band. They know they are dead and can be heard when singing and seen when playing with Julie but they are still dead. Now remember this song plays right after the boys leave the studio when Ray talks about his happy times with a wife that died. This hits close to home because well they are also dead. But also the way Ray talks about Rose. So much love and admiration. And now Reggie's parents who were "one fight away from divorce". And on top of that his house is gone so there is no way of him (at this point at least and without Julie's help) to find his family or even to learn if they are alive. This song, Luke says that he knows how to cheer Reggie up. But notice this. It's not something that Luke or Alex sing. No. Reggie is. I'm not going to mention that it is kind of weird that they had a song in the ready that's called "the band is back" as if they had a fallout before or something like that. But this aside, this is a song to remind Reggie that they are still friends and that they are family. The only family they are going to need. And they are going to stick together, life or afterlife.

"Can you, can you hear me?" "Loud and clear!" Is such a simple thing that is used on so many concerts to get the audience's attention. But here is different. Becaus eits reaffirming that Reggie is valid. That his voice is being heard and that he's safe. And by having Reggie sing the song - it's like saying "hey Reg we know this is terrible and it sucks but if you'd like we'll be your family and will me always stick around". By making REGGIE sing it, by making him announce that the back is back together is like giving him a choice. A choice to have Luke and Alex as his family. If Luke sang it it was as if he said: "we're your family" but the way it is it's more like a question: "we will be your family if you'll have us" and of course Reggie would that's why the band is back.

Flying Solo - Flynn's song. One of my personal favourites actually. Nothing much to add really. The lyrics are from Julie's dream box because the boys were looking for the kitchen again and are very personal. Flynn is a constant in Julie's life and by having her sing a song about her best friend, SING (a big change that has happened recently in Julie's life) is letting her in once again, having her in her life when the change happens. Letting her on the secret about the ghost band. And it's also an apology and giving her thanks. Because Julie is so thankful to have Flynn there. "My life would be real zero, flying solo without you"

And one more thing, notice how the boys sing nothing but chorus. On every other song the boys get a line or two to sing on their own, except Luke who is not ready to give up his front man position (which is quite fair since he writes the songs too). This song is entirely BY Julie and sang by Julie but is still a Flynn's song.

Finally Free - this is JULIE'S song. This is her first song playing PUBLIC (yes I know it was Bright but it was different. There was no band then yet.) It's her metamorphosis. The song reflects the change in Julie every time she sings:

"I'm awakened, no more faking so we push all our fears away. Don't know if I'll make it cause I'm failing under, close my eyes, and feel my chest beating like thunder. I wanna fly. Come alive. Watch me shine. " it starts off with noting Julie's life without music and then its restoration of it back in her life. Here is this word again, SHINE. It refers to the same thing just different situation. Sine as being themselves. Being true to themselves and singing their heart out.

"Hands up if you believe, been so long, and now I'm finally free. We're all bright now. What a sight now. Coming out like we're fireworks. Marching on proud. Turn it up loud cause now we know what we're worth" Now this can be applied to the entire band. They are visible again, they can be heard and seen. They are feeling as if they are alive again. But more importantly- remember how Julie couldn't sing in her class? How she choked back tears as she run away and Carrie's bitchy comment (it's not that I hate her but y'know if they used to be friends she must have known that Rose died so low blow). "COS NOW WE KNOW WHAT WE'RE WORHT" She proved to everyone that she can sing. She proved to her friends and family that she is getting better with her mother passing. And most of all that she feels closer to her when she sings. She is free. Free of pretending to be fine so her dad wouldn't worry. Free of bottling up all the fear of singing before Flynn and the inevitable disappointment because her friend knew Julie can sing but didn't to say with her in the music program. She is done proving things to people. She is shining bright and she is free.

Edge of Great - ultimate Juke song or a BAND song. Now let me explain, I love the ship I really do but-there is a but,however, I'm not going to go in about my slight concerns regarding Juke as it is canon so let me just jump into the analysis.

Of course it can be read as a Juke song but also as an Julie and Luke's song separately. "Running from the past. Tripping on the now. What is lost can be found, its obvious. And like a rubber ball we come bouncing back. We've all got a second act inside of us" essentially it's about how they all had their past, their demons to battle but they come together united in music. "This is an interesting little relationship you and I have" Luke said. And he was right. Because their relationship is not physical. Its a bond forged by similar life experience and the pain they draw from joined in music.

Now this bit, this 100% Juke right there: "I believe that were just one dream away from who we're meant to be. That were standing on the edge of- something big, something crazy our best days are yet unknown. That this moment is ours to own cause were standing on the edge of great" this gives me some serious throwback vibes to HSM. Also note how this is possibly the only song where Reggie and Luke don't share the mike. They stand next to each other but just watch Julie instead. Also, I think mentioned in other lengthy post about how Reggie and Alex intentionally poofed out giving Luke and Julie that last harmony moment by the piano.

Now this bit: "We all make mistakes but they're just stepping stones. To take us where we wanna go it's never straight, no. Sometimes we gotta lean. Lean on someone else to get a little help until we find our way." Now listen I mentioned the band. See I know this is the almost acoustic chilling chemistry packed moment when Luke and Julie sing. It's obvious they mean so much to each other. By the lyrics itself. It applies to the entire band. They were there to pick each other up and to provide a shoulder to rest their head on.

But as I said untimalte Juke song.

Unsaid Emily - now this, this is LUKE'S song. Obviously. But it's not only because it's dedicated to his mother. It's like Wake Up. It's the second song that is sang acoustically but just one person throughout. And it gives up such a great insight into Luke as a character.

"First things first, we start the scene from reverse, all of the lines rehearsed" THIS is how much his family means to him. He was going over this moment over and over and over in his head. Thinking what he would say. We saw in the show that he approached his house few times checking on his parents. Possibly hoping to come back but never doing it.

"I should have turned around but I had too much pride" he KNEW his parents were only looking out for him. But he was Luke. His music was EVERYTHING to him. Luke has a very single way of thinking of things. He didn't care, doesn't mean he didn't know, how hard it would be to make it. All that mattered it was his music. And it must have hurt. Because he says that his parents regretted buying him his first guitar. It's obvious that he was close with his parents with his mom so they must have not completely condone him being in the band. They just wanted him to have an option if the band won't work out. But Luke didn't see it like that. Because every time his parents tried to convince him to think about it for a moment to think about his future they were looking out for him but to him it felt like betrayal. Because to Luke it sounded like they had no faith in him, on his talent in his band and their chance or making it big. And it hurts SO FUCKING MUCH BECAUSE HE KNOWS IT. He knows it but as he sings he was too prideful to admit it. To come back.

"No times for goodbyes. Didn't get to applogise" and " conversations in my head and that's just where they're gonna stay forever" it's goddamn HEARTBREAKING because this song was written when he was still alive. He still stalked his house and his parents but THIS indicate that he thought things were beyond repair. Like he wanted to come back and apologise but thought it was too late. Like he would never get a chance to say he was sorry and ultimately he never did. Not until Julie.

"If I could take us back, if I could just do that. And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace and everytime would not erase me if you could only know I never let you go and the words I most regret and the ones I never meant to leave" everything he said was in the heat of the moment. He was hurt. But god, at this point I'm crying don't mind me, he thinks that he apologise would mean nothing. He says that if he could replace EVERY SINGLE WORD with I Love You he would but he think it would be erased. It would never be received. Thay it would dissapear. And ultimately it was. Because he died. He died and never got to say how sorry he was.

This song shows us the other side of Luke. Not only the side that only the band has seen before because I think that noone really saw Luke break down like thay when he was singing Unsaid Emily. He was bottling all of it inside and wouldn't let his friends to help him out. Because I refuse to believe that the boys wouldn't try to comfort him knowing that he was hunting around his parents both when he was alive and after.

And this song makes me ugly sob in every form, written, sang, seen in the show so thanks Kenny for it.

Stand Tall - this is the JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS song. The first one of many. And it's almost as heartbreaking as Unsaid Emily. First of all let's lay out the situation. Julie decides to sing ALONE and UNCERTAIN whether the boys would show up or not. Even if she still believes thay they are still there lingering, fighting to play the Orpheum with her and complete their unfinished business she would still lose them. When they cross over they are gone. And if they don't they will cease the exist in the afterlife. So no matter what Julie does she says goodbye to her family. And she STILL DECIDES TO SING.

"Whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall." THIS FUCKING MOMENT. This is when the boys are supposed to come in. BUT THEY DON'T. They are still trapped in the HGC so JULIE LITERALLY IS THE LAST ONE STANDING. Because she thinks it's too late. She thinks they boys are dead.

I shit you not I scream everytime the boys appear and Luke flickering gives me a heart attach every single time but it's so powerful in terms of showing how much they mean for each other. When Alex and Reggie break free they are so happy to see Julie but when Luke can't get there quite yet the tension is palpable and I will never forgive Charlie for being the little shit when Luke finally appears exactly on his cue with a shit eating grin like he didn't almost die.

"Right now, I'm loving every minute. Hands down, can't let myself forget it, no cause everything is rushing in fast. Keep holding on never look back. And it's one, two, three, four times that I'll try for one more night. Light a fire in my eyes." This is so bittersweet because she is playing with the band. THEY MADE IT! But also she knows it's the last performance. And it's so powerful because she knows it and she will still keep trying. Keep playing music. Keep creating.

This is the ULTIMATE JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS, BAND UNITED AND TOGETHER SONG

But I want to note the literal chills I get everytime Alex and Reggie get their separate "whatever happens even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall" because it speaks VOLUMES. For Alex standing tall is being who he is. Unashamed and happy and loved. For Reggie is being with his family. Doing everything for his found family.

This is incredible performance and on top of that the boys disappear barely finishing their bow. If you listen closely. The second Julie stops singing all the music dies down except for the last line guitar strum, Luke's guitar strum and everything is quiet. You can hear Julie's voice, alone, still echo but that's it. The boys are gone.

+1

House is Where my Horse Is - ok, I know it was a joke cos they are in the rock back and this is country song. But you ever listened to a country music? And I'm not talking about modern stuff but a good old fashioned country ballad. I had a moment of little musical crisis in my life and listened to some songs and honestly they are so bittersweet and full of longing and melancholy. 90% of them are about loss, whether that be of a parent (almost always father and almost always cancer) or love and hardships of life and struggle. And I think it's really interesting to give Reggie, a person who is nothing but optimistic and cheerful this characteristic. Because if anything it only underlines what we have seen before that he is not the sharpest tool in the shed but he's smart. He sees things, and he might get lost in the conversation but he sees everything else. And it's not the fist country song he has written either. Luke says "stop putting your country songs in my journal". It's an occurring thing. I just think it sheds a light a bit on Reggie's character as someone else than the goofball.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

My friends and I occasionally play that made-up game called "Kerfuffle" - A bit like DnD but with everyday life tasks and not as nerdy (sadly :D). You pick a random politician, TV char., etc. and try to overcome some challenges in a way you assume they'd do it. Last time we played, I obv picked s.o. from ST - Joyce. That was when a random thought crossed my mind: If s.o. were to name each ST main character's greatest weakness/ strength, what would be the outcome? I immediately thought of you. :D

Ok, now that the election is over, and my anxiety has come back down to its usual “only a little high” status, it’s back to business here. This is an interesting question from my pal @sollody here. I’m not going to be able to go too much into depth given the breadth of the question here, but it’ll be a nice look at several characters. Perhaps this will result in requests for more in-depth looks at some of them individually. For the sake of having a defined meaning of “main character,” I am only going with characters who were in all three seasons and were directly involved in the action (sorry, Mr. Clarke). I will make an exception for Max, as she’s just too central to leave out.

The Party

Mike

Greatest Strength: Determination. Once he sets his mind on something, he does everything in his power to see that it happens. Do not try to come between Mike and his objective. God help you if you try to stop him when his objective involves Will or El.

Greatest Weakness: A lack of emotional intelligence. Mike reacts to his emotions as they come. There’s no apparent self-awareness, and this results in impulsive behavior that leads to negative outcomes for himself and his relationships. The feelings themselves aren’t the problem. Mike just doesn’t understand them enough to react appropriately.

Will

Greatest Strength: Quick thinking. I was tempted to mention his compassion, but really Will’s greatest asset is his mental acuity. Since season 1 he has shown an impressive capacity for quick thinking in stressful situations.

Greatest Weakness: Insecurity. Will has self-esteem issues resulting from not only the Upside Down situation, but also more mundane personal and family experiences. He worries about how people view him and fears that he’s being left behind. This leads to him keeping important things to himself, things nobody, especially a child, should be expected to deal with alone.

Lucas

Greatest Strength: Rationality. Lucas has generally been the member of the party with the most down-to-earth mindset. Regardless of all of the supernatural goings on, Lucas has tried to view things realistically. His approaches to the events of the series have typically been the most practical, skeptical, and grounded. Ironically, this actually does make him a good Winston, though I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him this.

Greatest Weakness: Overconfidence. Lucas is very sure of himself, sometimes too much so, even when warned off by others. From being sure that El was trouble, to risking a beating from Billy, to thinking he’s some suave expert on women, Lucas has made trouble for himself and his friends. He doesn’t meant to, of course, and a lot of this may come from some desire to “be a man.” Lucas needs to learn to accept himself as he is.

Dustin

Greatest Strength: Curiosity. Dustin is always looking to learn more about anything and everything. Nothing is too weird or off-putting for him. His knowledge has come very much in handy for the Party, and this general attitude has led to him accepting the supernatural events in stride.

Greatest Weakness: Recklessness. Dustin, in his pursuit of satisfying his curiosity, or some other goal, can fail to see clearly obvious dangers. Find a strange creature? Raise it yourself. See a strange growth in the underground tunnels? Go get a closer look. Find out about a possible Russian base in the mall? Let’s go check it out! His goals are often admirable, but his approach is often foolish.

El

Greatest Strength: Adaptability. El has managed to escape a government facility, survive in the woods, and travel to unfamiliar locations despite her young age. While she has been somewhat dependent on her powers, she’s managed to accomplish some impressive feats for someone who hasn’t had anything close to resembling a normal upbringing.

Greatest Weakness: Ignorance. This isn’t the “you’re so ignorant!” meaning of the word. I mean it in the truest sense of the word: El just lacks a lot of information in life. Most critically, she’s emotionally and socially unaware. A lot of her schemas for relationships come from TV shows and what little she picked up from Mike in season 1. She’s gotten somewhat better as the seasons moved on, but there’s just a lot she doesn’t know. This had led to her being suspicious, angry, and possessive (specifically of Mike), harming her relationships with others.

Max

Greatest Strength: Acceptance. Max doesn’t unduly judge anyone. Her issues with Mike stemmed from his treatment of her. Aside from that, some light teasing aside, she was more than happy to accept the Party as her friends. She didn’t let Lucas’ race get in the way of their mutual attraction, despite knowing what Neil and Billy would think about it. She wanted to be El’s friend from the start, and, despite being harshly rebuffed at first, she accepted El when she sought Max out in season 3. It’s really a testament to how determined she is to not continue the cycle that Neil and Billy brought into her life.

Greatest Weakness: Family. Honestly, Max’s biggest drawback is her home life. She’s worried that she may end up going down the same angry, abusive road as Billy and Neil. She’s mistrustful, snarky, and blunt even when not worked up, behaviors she likely developed due to exposure to Billy and Neil. She also seems to still love Billy despite his abusive behavior. This sort of family dynamic can be very damaging (and it was probably just as harmful to Billy). Hopefully, Max’s found family serves to offset the harm done by her “real” family.

Older Teens

Nancy

Greatest Strength: Determination. It must be a family trait. Nancy is relentless, and she will get to the truth of the matter, one way or another. Nobody, and indeed no monster, will keep her from what she’s after.

Greatest Weakness: Egocentrism. Nancy can easily lose sight of how things impact those around her. Her desire to prove herself has left her somewhat blind to the difficulties other people face. She has trouble relating to people from other situations.

Jonathan

Greatest Strength: Compassion. Jonathan has sacrificed a great deal for his family, and he’s apparent done it without any noticeable resentment. His treatment of Will resembles the ideal that a lot of parents hope for in their kids (though in reality Mike/Nancy or Lucas/Erica is the more realistic outcome). Jonathan just wants those important to him to be happy.

Greatest Weakness: Social Awkwardness. Jonathan has a great deal of trouble interacting with other people. This likely stems from his family situation, as his father leaving left his family as pariahs of sorts, and it also left him having to be a sort of father figure when he should have been able to be a regular teenager.

Steve

Greatest Strength: Courage. Yes, Steve has been freaked out by everything, but that’s irrelevant. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the ability to feel fear and not let it control you. Steve has willingly put himself in harm’s way for the sake of others in all three seasons. The only thing that scares Steve too much to overcome is social judgment...

Greatest Weakness: Insecurity. Yes, our buddy, King Steve, has self-esteem issues. This is why he’s always trying to play himself off as a hotshot. He’s simply too afraid to just be himself. Sadly, it’s only when he lets this guard down that he’s at his best. He’s made some stride at overcoming this, and I’m hopeful that he continues this in season 4.

Adults

Joyce

Greatest Strength: Ferocity. Do I even need to explain this? Do NOT threaten Joyce’s loved ones, especially Will. Just don’t.

Greatest Weakness: Emotional Reactivity. When stress hits Joyce, she reacts hard. It’s perfectly normal, given the level of stress she feels, but it leaves her seeming “crazy” and makes it hard for others to understand what she’s trying to get across. As a result, her message, warning, etc. is lost and her credibility is damaged. In less serious occurrences, she instead just comes across as belligerent or annoying, even though she’s generally right about whatever she’s on about.

Hopper

Greatest Strength: Compassion. Hopper is at his best when he’s trying to protect others. Despite having worked to close himself off from the world after his personal trauma, Hopper still feels compassion. He probably never wanted to feel anything for anyone again (perhaps why he returned to a boring town like Hawkins), but when tragedy struck it brought out the best in him. Though, that brings us to his weakness...

Greatest Weakness: Insensitivity. Perhaps ironically, Hopper’s weakness is the complete opposite of his strength. Hopper is a man who runs hot and cold. Which version of him that you get depends on his mood. If you get his bad side, prepare for harsh words, and perhaps harsher fists. This may help him get the job done at times, but it harms his relationships. He has a tremendous fear of loss, which results in him lashing out fiercely at those he cares for if they do something to that risks him losing them.

Ok, that’s the best I could come up with. I’d love to read other people’s thoughts on the matter.

[hawkinspostbite]

STRIKE

Words: 8,116

MASTERLIST

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc.

MONDAY

Joanna stood right outside her locker, Carol, Nancy, and Diana standing around her. “So, strangely enough, I had to leave Billy’s last night. It was honestly embarrassing.” She sighed. “It’s never happened before, but I hit my sex breaking point.”

“Steve is unbelievable.” Di groaned, receiving questionable looks from the others. “Oh, I mean unbelievable in the way that he’s ridiculous. Checking on me every five seconds. I’m fine, just do what you’re doing, Jesus Christ.”

“If only I had your problem, I feel like Billy completely forgets I exist. Absolutely no control, and not a care for me.” Jo sighed.

“If I get within three feet of Tommy, he can’t keep his hands off of me. I can’t stand it.” Carol whined, examining her fingernails.

“Well at least your boyfriend likes you, I couldn’t tell you the last time Jonathan and I slept together.” Nancy counteracted.

“Jesus, we’re quite the mess, aren’t we?” Carol laughed pathetically. A few moments of silence passed.

“What if we went on a sex strike?” Jo spoke. Carol, Nancy, and Di looked at her in shock. “What-“

“That’s honestly not a bad idea.” Nancy said.

“Are you serious? That’s crazy.” Carol shrilled.

“Quiet down!” Jo swatted at her hand. “It’s not that crazy. It’ll be fun to watch them squirm.”

“They won’t even realize anything’s different.” Carol replied.

“One week, maybe not even- One week to prove to them that us and our needs are just as important as their’s.” Jo was becoming desperate to prove to the girls that this was in fact, a great idea. “By Friday, Carol, if Tommy can go without jumping your bones; Di, if Steve stops worrying about you; and Nancy, if Jonathan can’t keep his hand off of you, I win, and I get bragging rights. If not, I will treat you all to a shopping spree at the mall, no limit. And you can all say you told me so.”

“What about you?” Nancy asked.

“What about me?”

“What if you can’t get Billy to tend to you?”

“Then I’ll just look like a fool and continue to suffer.” Jo shrugged. “What do you say?”

“I say we get other girls in on this.” Di spoke up. The others look questioningly at her. “We can’t be the only four girls in Hawkins with bedroom issues. We should spread the word.”

“Damn.” Carol mumbled.

“You’re a genius.” Jo leaned over and kissed Di on the cheek. “Starting now, the female students of Hawkins high school are on a sex strike!” The four girls cheered, drawing the attention of passerby in the hallway. “We have to spread the word. I’ll take art.”

“I can cover gym.” Carol said.

“I have a double-period of English.” Di said.

“I guess I’ll cover science.” Nancy spoke.

The first period bell rang, interrupting their small power-trip. “Meet at lunch?” Jo asked. The others nodded, each of them smirking to themselves. The four girls went their separate ways, going to spread the word of their great idea.

Carol had gym first period. Normally she would stand, grumbling to herself against the bleachers, but today she almost made Mr. Sweeney keel over in shock from her participation in volleyball and her friendliness towards other students.

Nancy had science second period, and luckily for her, they had a group lab that day. Small notes, written in code were passed from female to female in the class.

Di had a double-period of honors English third and fourth, so her friend’s new plan made for interesting conversation between the girls at break.

Jo had art right before lunch, which made it a little more difficult to spread word, due to it being such a quiet class. But most of the work had already been done for her, because within the small whispers of the classroom, she heard talk of her master plan to rule against men.

Jo walked into the cafeteria, where she found Carol sitting with Tommy and Billy at their usual lunch table. “Hey babe.” Billy reached out to her, like he did every day. Jo ignored him, standing at the head of the table and seeing Nancy and Di waiting patiently at an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Carol, did you forget about that project we’re doing?” Jo whipped her head to look at her friend. “The others are waiting.”

“Oh shit! Yeah the project, totally forgot.” She pried herself away from Tommy’s grip, grabbing her bag and standing up.

“Hey, we don’t have a project in any class.” Billy said, his face twisting in confusion.

“Well we do.” Jo shrugged. “Super top-secret. You’re not allowed to know… And we’re pressed for time, sorry, bye.” She dragged Carol by her sleeve away from the table.

“Close one.” Carol sighed, sitting down next to Di.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I would’ve had to track you down though.” Jo rolled her eyes and sat next to Nancy.

“So have you heard the word around town yet?” Di asked proudly.

“Yeah, not much to talk about in a double-period of English is there?” Carol sneered.

“Jesus, must you be such a bitch all the time?” Jo snapped.

“Seriously?” Nancy groaned.

“I think the word is sufficiently spread.”

“I heard some freshman whispering about it in the hallway before third.” Carol smiled. “It’s definitely sufficiently spread.”

“So what’s the next move?” Nancy asked.

“We should have a party.” Jo said.

“I can’t host, my parents literally never leave the house.” Nancy sighed.

“I can’t either, my mom’s still pissed about the hole in the deck from the fourth of July.” Carol frowned.

The girls looked at Di. “Not even in the realm of possibility.”

“Fine, I can host.” Jo groaned. “I’ll just tell my dad to go away for the weekend or something.”

“He would do that?” Carol asked. “Like if you said, “dad just go away for the weekend”, he would?”

“Um, yes?”

“What if we made flyers?” Di asked. “Like maybe wallet-sized or something, so it would be harder for the guys to come across.”

“I could draw one up pretty quickly.” Jo shrugged.

“If we can find a way to make copies somehow, we can each give them out, and make official.”

Jo looked down at her watch. “There’s enough time for me to make a rough copy of the poster if I go now.” She gathered her things, standing from the bench.

“I’ll come with.” Carol grabbed her things as well.

“We can meet at my place after school.” Nancy said. “Mike will probably have his friends there, I’m sure one of them can help us figure out how to make copies of the poster.”

“If Max is there-“

“She would give her life for you Jo.” Di chuckled, making Jo smile.

“Alright, we’ll meet in the parking lot after school, see you then.”

Across the lunchroom, Billy watched as Jo and Carol left the room in a hurry. He had watched as they spent ten minutes talking with Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington’s new girlfriend, who he didn’t quite know the name of yet. That, the fact that Jo had left so suddenly last night, and her distance from him all day rubbed him the wrong way. “What do you think of that?” He asked Tommy.

“Those two being weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Well they’re always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes, unsatisfied with his friend’s response. Hopefully, for both their sakes, Jo would stop being so strange.

In the empty art room, Jo scrambled quickly to find two pieces of poster-board and a marker. “So what’s the game-plan here?” Carol asked, sliding her backpack onto the big wooden table.

“A very rough draft of a sexy, female-empowering poster.” She concentrated on the paper as she scribbled Girls STRIKE at the top of the page, looking over at Carol questioningly.

“Yes, keep going.” Carol smiled.

Next, some random words at the bottom of the page, just to fill in the space. “What do I put in the middle?”

“Lips? Lipstick? The sign for females, you know, the one with the circle-”

“How about this?” Jo quickly drew the silhouette of a girl. “She can wear a dress. Or maybe not?”

“Right now she can just be a stick-figure.”

“But you get the idea?”

“Yeah I get the idea, I think it’s hot.”

“Well then we have our poster.” Jo high-fived Carol and rolled the paper up as the bell rang. The girls made their way to Jo’s locker where they placed the poster into safety.

At the end of the day, Jo retrieved the poster from her locker, meeting the others in the parking lot by Nancy’s car. “Come on, we’ve gotta go before the guys get out here!” Di squealed.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Jo and Carol climbed into the back of the car, leaving Di up front with Nancy and the middle for Mike.

“Hi boys.” Jo smiled at them as they climbed into the car.

“Just two of you today?” Nancy asked.

“Max, Dustin, and Will are coming over in a little bit. Max had to go home first and Steve’s gonna bring them over later. Hey.” Mike replied, suddenly noticing Jo’s appearance.

“We have a project.” Jo replied to Mike’s question he had yet to ask.

“Cool.”

Upon arrival at the Wheeler’s house, the four girls practically sprinted up to Nancy’s room, locking the door behind them. Jo pulled the poster out of her bag, laying it out on Nancy’s bed. “That’s…” Di began.

“Rough.” Nancy said.

“Yes, thank you.”

“But I think we get the picture.” Di smiled.

“So what exactly is the plan for the party? How are we supposed to keep guys from showing up?” Nancy asked.

“Or finding out?” Carol added.

“We aren’t.” Jo replied. “I mean, we’re supposed to try, but you know there’s no way to completely keep it from happening.”

“It’s like Hargrove has a built-in party-detector

“We need to try our best to make sure that other girls keep it as quiet as possible.” Di added.

“We should have a dress-code for the party.” Carole burst out.

“Like…?” Jo asked.

“Black and red.” Carole grinned. “Those are powerful colors.”

“Leather and lace optional?” Jo said, jokingly.

“That’s going on the poster!” Nancy agreed.

The girls continued to work out the details of the party, arrival time, alcohol, music, etcetera, and Jo noticed that Steve had dropped off the other kids. She left Nancy’s room, opening the door to the basement, she was met with immense noise. All six sets of eyes turned to look at her. “Max, can I talk to you upstairs quick?”

Max, confused, followed Jo up the stairs, back to Nancy’s room. Upon seeing the poster on the bed, she stopped dead in her tracks. “What is going on?”

“We need your help.” Nancy said.

“What are you guys doing? Organizing some weird sex strike or something?” Max laughed nervously.

“Actually, yes.” Jo said.

“You’re joking- That was a joke. Are you serious?” Jo nodded. “That’s disgusting, I did not need to know that.”

“Relax Maxine, sex is a part of life-“ Carol smiled.

“Jesus Christ, Carol! The last thing I need is Billy finding out that we gave Max a bootleg sex-ed class in Nancy’s bedroom, oh my god.” Jo snapped at her.

“So what exactly did you need help with?” Max walked up to the bed, further examining the poster.

“We need help making copies of this, to pass out to other girls.” Jo answered.

“We were thinking maybe wallet-sized, or a little bigger?” Di added.

“I know how to copy and print and everything, but we figured that the schools wouldn’t be too happy knowing that we were producing sex-strike posters to hand out on campus.” Nancy shrugged.

“Yeah, I can imagine…” Max sighed.

“But we know you have an in at the library-“ Jo began.

“I work there on weekends, yes.”

“Do you think we could get in this week to make copies?” Jo smiled. “Please Max, I’ll do anything. I’ll take Billy off your case for as long as I can, I’ll even take you and your friends out for pizza and ice cream next week. Literally anything, just please get us twenty minutes in the library copy room.”

Jo was practically on the floor, begging Max. She pursed her lips. “You and Nancy pick me up after school tomorrow. I’ll tell Marissa that I need the copy machine for a school project.”

“Thank you so much Max!” Jo jumped up from the floor, wrapping her arms around the younger girl.

“You owe me so much.”

“I’ve never broken a promise before.” Jo held her pinkie out, locking it with Max’s.

Max left Nancy’s room, still feeling slightly uncomfortable, and she rejoined her friends in the basement. “What did she want?” Will asked.

“Something stupid about my brother.” Max rolled her eyes, playing it off.

“I still don’t understand how they’re together.” Lucas said.

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

“Your brother is like the biggest asshole on planet Earth, and Jo is like-“

“The total opposite!” Dustin interrupted. “She’s into art, and she’s quiet, and she’s nice to us. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Lucas agreed.

“Me either.” Mike said.

“I don’t get it just as much as you guys.” Max shrugged.

Upstairs, Jo had rolled the poster back up, in preparation to leave. “I’ve got to head out before it gets too dark.”

“Prince Bad-ass in his blue chariot isn’t going to come give you a lustrous ride all the way to Trestle road?” Carol snickered.

Jo patted at the poster in her hand. “Nope, it would ruin the plan.”

“He’s gonna be pretty pissed when he finds out you walked home by yourself.”

“So come with me?” Jo raised her eyebrows. “You can spend the night. We’ll stop at your house, you can pick up some clothes.”

Carol sighed. “I suppose I could.” She turned to gather her things. “Your dad home? He gonna let us drink?”

“It’s Wednesday for god’s sake.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Di, you wanna walk?”

“No, I’m gonna hang here until Steve comes for Dustin, but thanks anyway.”

“Be careful.” Nancy waved them goodbye.

“Play it cool, see you tomorrow!” Jo yelled back.

The two girls began their sunset-trek from Maple street to Pine, where they stopped at Carol’s house. Her mother was at the grocery store, and her father had yet to return from work, but her older brother was there. “Hey, we’re gonna need you to get us some supplies for a party Friday.” Carol said, writing a quick note to her parents about her whereabouts.

“Don’t I get an invite?” He asked.

Carol snickered. “Not with that thing hanging between your legs.”

“Sorry, girls only.” Jo shrugged. Carol and Jo retreated into her room briefly, for Carol to pack an overnight bag. Her phone began to ring. “I didn’t know you got your own line?”

“It’s the latest addition.” Carol set her bag down and walked over to the phone. “As you can imagine, only one person really calls it. And I’m sure that’s who this is now- Hello?”

Surely it was Tommy.

“Yeah I’m sleeping over at Jo’s.

I know we were at Nancy’s all night, for that project we told you about at lunch?

“Uh, well- What class is this project for?” She held the receiver to her shoulder, blocking sound from traveling to Tommy.

“Art?” Jo answered, questionably.

“It’s an art project Jo has. She needed us all together but she has to work with us separately. We ran out of time at Nancy’s so we’re going to her house.

Yeah, my mom’s gonna give us a ride.

Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Jesus Christ.” She hung up the phone, and then unplugged it. “I’ll save my folks some grief.”

Carol finished packing her bag as the sun set, and the girls finished their walk, two streets over to Trestle road, where Jo lived. “Hey dad, I’m home, and I brought Carol with me.”

Jo’s dad sat in their small living room, half-asleep as the television lulled in the background. “Hey girls, what are we up to tonight.”

“I have an art project that I need Carol’s help with if that’s okay. She’s gonna spend the night.”

“Fine by me, just make sure you two are up for school in the morning.”

“Thanks dad, love you.”

“There’s pizza in the fridge by the way, and anything else you want, just help yourselves.” Carole smiled at Jo’s dad’s kindness. “By the way, Billy called. He seemed worried, you might wanna call him back.”

Jo rolled her eyes.

Jo and Carol went down the steps, into the basement, which had been fortified as a bedroom for Jo. Quite frankly, it was the best hangout spot any of their friends had. It had a bed, 2 couches, a small television and radio, an attached bathroom, and a pool table, making it the ideal place for drinking, smoking, and sleeping, and now, secretive “art” projects.

Carol unrolled the two posters, laying the scribbled one next to the blank one. Jo picked up the phone connected to the wall, dialing Billy’s number and hoping that whatever god was listening, made him not pick up. Lucky for her, he didn’t, so she proceeded to leave a quick message on his answering machine. “Hey baby, it’s me. Don’t be mad… But Carol and I walked from Nancy’s home after school… C is sleeping over, we’re still working on that project. I’m guessing you’re pretty pissed at me, and you’re probably out drinking or something like that. Be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“That was disgustingly cute.” Carol snickered from the floor.

“Yeah, and he won’t suspect a thing. Plus tomorrow we’ll fight about the fact that I walked home, so he won’t even care about the mysterious project anymore.”

Jo gathered her markers and watercolors and sat down next to Carol. “So honestly, you can turn the T.V on, you don’t have to sit and watch me try to perfect this.”

“It’s fine, I like to watch artists work.” She settled herself more comfortably onto the floor, holding a pillow in her lap.

“I am by no means, an “artist”, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. Go put a record on.” Jo hated to make Carol get up after she had gotten comfortable, but she couldn’t work in silence.

“I don’t know how you expect to work with this absolute masterpiece playing in the background, but to each their own…” Of all the records to pick, Carol had chosen Queen’s, “Jazz”.

“You’re totally right, why would you put this on?”

Carol threw herself onto the couch. “Because I don’t want to listen to anything depressing while we’re plotting a sex strike.”

“Right.” Jo nodded her head.

For quite awhile, Jo worked on the poster, while Carol watched over her, quietly humming to the music. Occasionally, they would burst out singing, and laugh, and then return to work.

After three hours, a short pizza break, and only one “maybe we should rethink this whole plan” dilemma, the sun had completely gone down outside, no light peered in from the singular tiny window across the room. The poster was complete. “That’s a keeper, for sure.” Carol admired the artwork laid out on the floor.

“I’m quite honestly shocked that I did it with such little preparation.” She turned around to look at her friend. “Do you think it’ll get the point across?”

“I mean everyone basically knows from word-of-mouth anyway, this is just a seal-the-deal type of thing. I think it should be fine.”

“Not too much information? I mean, it doesn’t say my house but nobody else lives on this street except for Mrs. Goldson.”

“Yeah, she’s deaf.”

“Exactly-“

“No, I think we’ll be fine. Stop worrying. This is gonna be awesome.” Carol climbed down from the couch, sitting face-to-face with her best friend. “We’re gonna get to watch them sweat. Can you imagine their faces when they realize what’s going on? It’ll be priceless.”

Jo raised her eyebrows. “This isn’t a little cruel?”

“The whole reason we’re doing this is because we need paid attention to! Who gives a shit what they want, it’s time for them to cater to us. We’re women, damn it! Without us, nobody would be here, so they’re gonna start being a little more grateful for our presence.” Carol grinned.

“In the end, we’re gonna win, regardless.”

TUESDAY

After Jo’s pep-talk, and a shot, for an extra boost of courage, the two girls went to bed. The next morning, Jo’s dad drove the two of them to school, the finished poster rolled as small as possible so as to not draw any suspicion. It was hard work, trying to avoid Billy and Tommy, and the rest of their friends on the basketball team, where they usually hung out in the parking lot in the morning. They had to crouch behind a group of freshmen girls to safely get inside the school.

“It should be safe in my locker.” Jo said, hushed. “He doesn’t know my combination- Thank god.” She shoved the poster inside, quickly closing the door and turning to face Carol.

“Ready to face the world?”

Down the hallway, Billy and Tommy came into view, the rest of their friends following behind like groupies.

“Act natural.” The two nodded to each other, making their way towards their boyfriends.

Neither of them suspected anything.

Throughout the day, they tried their best to carry on like normal. Nancy and Di briefly caught up with each of them at lunch, saying that Jonathan and Steve hadn’t expected anything. Speaking of lunch, it was the most difficult period, trying to not to perform excessive PDA on their boyfriends without them suspecting something was harder than they had originally thought. “Strike! You’re on strike!” They had to keep reminding themselves.

At the end of the day, they had to, once again sneak away from the boys. Steve was in the parking lot, waiting with Dustin for Di. Jonathan was with Nancy, standing between their cars. Will, Lucas, and Mike were inside Jonathan’s car. “Hey.” Jo said, walking up to them.

“We’re waiting for Max.” Nancy replied.

“She had to pick up her skateboard from the office.” Will spoke from inside the car.

Jo gave him a questioning look. “She was skating before homeroom and the secretary took it from her.” Lucas answered.

“What a bitch.” Jo rolled her eyes, seeing Max walk into view.

“Sorry, Ms. Leen took my board this morning-“ She grumbled, her board tucked under her arm.

“No worries.” Nancy said, turning to get into her car.

“What’d you tell Billy?” Jo asked, climbing into the passenger seat. They waved goodbye to the boys in the other car.

“Picking up extra hours at work.” Max replied, laying her board down on the floor. “You guys were taking me so you can work on your project.”

“Thank god.” Nancy sighed.

The girls drove to the library. The older girls followed Max inside, waiting for her to convince Marissa to let them use the copy machine. After quite a few minutes of coaxing, she allowed them thirty minutes, after that she’d have to charge them for ink.

Inside the copy room, Max set up the machine, making roughly sixty wallet-sized replicas of the poster Jo painted. Nancy and Jo began to cut them up as Max watched them run through the machine. “Do I want to know the story behind this scheme?”

Nancy and Jo looked at each other. “No.” They said in unison.

“It’s probably better if you didn’t.” Nancy said.

They somehow managed to copy, print, and cut up all the cards within their thirty minute time-slot. Thanking Marissa, they rushed back to Nancy’s car. Nancy took Jo home first, a rationing of cards enough for her and Carol in her grasp. “I’ll get some to Di tonight, they’ll probably come and pick up Will and Dustin.” Nancy said.

“Max, not a word to Billy, right?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Start trying to find a date that works for everyone to go out for food, okay? See you guys tomorrow.”

Billy had been suspicious of Jo since Monday, when she left him alone with Tommy at lunch. Jo was always sneaky and strange but it wasn’t out of the ordinary. He admired her for her quirks. But this time it wasn’t just one of her quirks, it was more like she was deliberately being weird. It bugged the shit out of him.

Monday and Tuesday he had been fucking up in practice, getting his ass reamed out at home by his dad, and practically slept through the first half of his school schedule. He spent half the night awake, wondering why Jo hadn’t come over at all, and barely let him touch her.

By the time practice ended on Tuesday, he had already reached his breaking point. “Has Carol been acting weird at all this week?” He asked Tommy, as they gathered in the locker room to shower.

“Not really, she’s just been spending a lot of time at Jo’s, why?”

Billy shook his head. “Well Jo has. She hasn’t come over at all. Normally she’s over every damn night.”

“Chicks are weird, man. They go through phases.” Tommy shrugged.

Billy didn’t buy it. Tommy was no help, but he knew who could be, and he was ready to push some buttons.

Billy arrived at Jo’s house, and let himself in. Her dad wasn’t home, so she was alone. Quietly, he passed through the living room and into the kitchen, seeing her standing over the stove, the draw-fan on full-blast, blocking out any background sound. “Ya know, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

“Jesus!” She jumped, turning around and clutching a wooden spoon to her chest.

“No, just me.” He smirked, stepping forward to grab her hips. But she twisted out of his grasp, turning back around to stir whatever was in the pot. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning forward. “What’re you making?”

“Trying to boil noodles for macaroni and cheese.” She mumbled, concentrated at the pot of still water on the stove. “Don’t think I have it hot enough.”

He looked up at the dials, reaching to turn the one for her burner all the way up. “Can’t cook noodles on a simmer.”

“I don’t love cooking. Can you tell?” She laughed as the flames grew underneath the pot. “Wanna do it for me?”

“If you insist…” He rolled his eyes jokingly. “Just as long as you get everything else ready. Think you can manage it?”

“I think I can.” Jo turned to grab a packet of powder off the counter. “It’s Kraft.”

Billy boiled the noodles, and drained them, and Jo mixed the cheese sauce together. The two ate their macaroni, and talked about their days at school. Eventually, they moved down to Jo’s room. They sat on the couch, enjoying the comfortable silence they provided each other. Until Billy had to ruin it.

“You been okay lately?” He whispered, running his hands through her hair.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes… Why?”

“Dunno… Just haven’t seen much of you this week. How’s that project of your’s going?”

He felt her tense up in his lap. “It’s fine. Almost done, gotta hand it in Friday afternoon.”

“Huh, really. How have the other’s been? Helpful?”

“Others? Oh, Nancy, C, and Diana? Yeah, very helpful, probably couldn’t do it without them.”

“When do I get to see this super top-secret, mysterious art project?” He smiled, trying not to make it seem like he suspected anything weird was going on.

“Well…” She sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll be getting it back, it might be going to the art show at the end of the semester.”

Nice cover. He thought.

Billy was currently content with sitting in the quiet and enjoying each other’s company. It was the most physical contact they had had all week. Eventually though, he let his mind wander, and soon his hands, and then Jo found herself in a predicament.

God, it felt nice, having him kiss her, and touch her, but damnit she was supposed to be on a strike. She couldn’t let it go any further.

Billy’s hands traveled under Jo’s shirt. She pulled away from his kiss. “Mm, I’m kinda tired.”

He still didn’t move his hands. “C’mon, this is the most I’ve seen of you all week. Let’s just have some fun.”

He leaned forward, catching her lips in his again. She sighed, once again pulling away. “No- No. I don’t want to, c’mon not tonight.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists, removing his fingers from under her shirt.

Billy groaned, flopping his head against the back of the couch dramatically.

Jo couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty.

She climbed off of his lap. “I’d say you can spend the night, but I don’t trust you won’t somehow talk me into sleeping with you, so I think I’m gonna have to ask you to go home.”

Billy’s jaw dropped. She had never asked him to leave before.

“What has gotten into you lately-“

“Nothing, nothing. My dad’s gonna be home, and we have school tomorrow…”

“That’s never stopped us before.” He grumbled, standing up and fixing his shirt.

“Doesn’t matter, no means no.” She chewed at her lip. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like it.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Billy rolled his eyes, staring at his girlfriend. “Am I at least permitted a kiss before I go?”

Jo smiled softly, leaning up on her tip-toes to kiss him. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Billy was damn sure there was something suspicious going on now.

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday was tough. Carol had skipped school, just to avoid Tommy. Nancy had skipped for a college visit, and Di joined her. So it was just Jo alone all day, with Billy and Tommy, and their idiot friends.

Billy was sure he had become wise to what was going on. Putting the pieces together: Tommy saying Carol was acting weird, Jo not wanting to have sex last night, the secret “art” project. The two of them had created a sex-pact, and the art project had something to do with it. (He hadn’t worked out all of the pieces yet.)

Billy was a born-instigator, so naturally, he made it his mission, to break the pact. And he took out all the stops.

He made sure to wear extra of the cologne she loved on him, only buttoned his shirt up halfway, smiled more often, and was extra sweet to her in the morning.

In their fourth-period gym class, he gave Mr. Sweeney to brilliant idea of having the guys play shirts versus skins during their basketball drills. He, of course volunteered his group for skins, trying his hardest to drive Jo wild. He winked and smiled at her from across the gym, watching repeatedly as her cheeks flushed red in the middle of a conversation with someone.

At lunch he made sure to keep at least one of his hands on her thigh at all times, complimenting her any chance he got. And when he waited for her at his car after school, he made sure he was smoking a cigarette, because although she detested the habit, she thought it was hot.

He greeted her with a kiss and watched as she got into the passenger seat; He followed, in the driver’s seat. He reached across her lap, into the glovebox, grabbing a piece of gum. “Gum?” He asked, slowly breaking the piece in half and sticking it in his mouth.

She practically drooled. “I know what you’re doing. It isn’t going to work.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about princess.” He grinned, starting the car. “Just asking my gorgeous girlfriend if she wants a piece of gum.”

Jo breathed in deeply. “Shut up.” She said through clenched teeth.

Wednesday afternoon was when Steve began to get suspicious. Di hadn’t wanted to do anything but drive around and listen to music since Sunday night. She made no extra effort to be affectionate, physically or verbally, and Steve was beginning to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something wrong? Did he spend too much time with Dustin? Did she not like the music he played? A million questions ran through his mind all day, leading up until the very moment he picked her up from school.

He had told Dustin that morning he was going to have to get a ride with Jonathan, because he desperately needed to talk to Di. Dustin asked no questions, he knew exactly what Steve was going through, he had had his fair share of lady-problems too. Communicating with his girlfriend Suzie in Washington was more often difficult than simple.

When Di got into the car, she greeted him with a kiss, which was not out of the ordinary. They went through their regular routine of asking how each other’s days were, and chit-chatting about the college visit and work at the video store. A few moments of silence passed, and Steve couldn’t control himself anymore. “Are we okay?”

Di turned to look at him suddenly. “What?”

“Are we okay? Am I doing everything okay?”

“Steve-“

“You haven’t really talked to me that much the past few days, and all you’ve wanted to do is drive around, not that I mind, I love spending time with you, but we haven’t just done nothing, or just hung out in awhile and I feel like it’s something I did, or something I said. If it is, please tell me, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever say it again. Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it, it was stupid of me-“

“Steve. Relax.” Di tightened her grip on his hand, where it was placed on her thigh.

“Oh- Sorry. It’s just-“

And then that’s when Di began to panic. “Please take me home.”

Steve slammed on his brakes in the middle of the street, his eyes going wide. He ripped his hand from her thigh, placing it on the gear shift. Di was never confrontational, she wasn’t aggressive. There was nothing wrong with between her and Steve, and she couldn’t come up with a logical excuse for why she wanted to just drive around, so she told him to take her home.

She was already mentally slapping herself.

“I-uh, okay.”

The rest of the drive to Di’s house, Steve said not one word. Neither did Di. He dropped her off, watching longingly as she silently got out of his car, and walked to her house.

Steve spent the entire drive home trying not to cry.

Billy dropped Jo off at her house, watching as she begrudgingly gave him a kiss. “Call me if you need anything… Or anyone.” He winked, watching as she clenched her jaw.

On her front porch she stood, shaking her head and flipping him off as he drove down the street, music blasting at max volume, pleased with the shit he had pulled.

He had definitely cracked the code.

THURSDAY

Jo spent Wednesday night sufficiently frustrated. She was mad at herself, for coming up with such a stupid idea. Who even strikes things anymore? She was mad at Nancy, Diana, and Carol for agreeing to her stupid idea. And most importantly, she was mad at Billy for figuring out what was going on, and making it his life’s mission to tease the shit out of her.

She expressed her frustrations to Carol over the phone after she had been dropped off. “How could we be so dumb?” “Since when did he get so clever?” “What the fuck is wrong with us?” Were just a few of the things she had said to Carol.

Carol was practically glued to her side all day Thursday. “They can’t possibly mess with both of us. We just have to distract each other.” She had said. She was only partially right.

Billy seemed to have let Tommy in on the girls’s little secret, and the two of them were the pair from hell. All day, any opportunity they got, they were doing something to get under their skin. Tiny little movements, whispering in their ears, stupid shit. And of course they got a reaction, because Carol and Jo were nothing if not predictable.

The pair went to Carol’s after school. She left her phone unplugged still.

After practice, Billy ditched Max, telling her to skate home, and drove himself to Steve Harrington’s house. He hated that he even knew where he lived, but he had been at a party there last summer, and he hated to admit it, but Harrington threw a wicked party.

He had barely gotten out of the car when he saw Steve step out his front door, a bouquet of roses in his hand. “I love you. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?”

“Hey, Harrington!” Billy called, casually walking towards him.

Steve looked up, eyes wide in shock. He flung the flowers behind him, quickly stuffing both of his hands into his pockets. “Hargrove, hey man, what’s up.”

“Those for your girlfriend?” Billy pointed to the discarded bunch of flowers on the ground.

“Oh, these?” Steve turned around, picking them up. “Yeah, they’re for Diana.”

“She been acting weird lately?” Billy chewed at his lower lip. “Because Joanna has, and I know they’re doing a project together, so I was wondering-“

Steve interrupted him. “Joanna is always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “That’s besides the point. Has Diana been acting weird? Jo has been out-of-the-ordinary weird, and I’m wondering if it’s that project they’re doing.”

“Di hasn’t mentioned a project to me…” Steve fiddled with the wrapping on the bouquet.

Billy raised his eyebrows. “Hmm. That’s weird. Jo said she had a project in art. Wheeler, Carol, and your girlfriend have been helping her out with it since Monday. Funny she didn’t mention it. You’ll have to ask her about it… Thanks anyway.”

Billy turned on his heel, walking back towards his car. “Actually, she has been acting a little strange.” Billy grinned, turning back to face Steve. “Every night she just wants to drive around and that’s it, she won’t do anything except hold my hand.”

Billy nodded, motioning to the flowers in Steve’s hand. “You go give her those flowers, I’ll handle the rest.” Billy twirled his keys between his fingers. “I’m gonna figure out why the girls have been acting up, don’t you worry pretty boy.”

Meanwhile, Steve had taken it upon himself to drive over to Diana’s house. She clearly didn’t want to talk to him, so he decided to leave the flowers at her doorstep. He managed to find an sticky note in his glove box, and on it he wrote I love you, I’m sorry. Just as he rehearsed, even though he still didn’t know why he was supposed to be sorry. He rang the doorbell and sprinted back to his car.

On his way home, and throughout the rest of the night he couldn’t stop the thoughts swirling his head. Why was she mad at him? What did he do? What did he say? Did she get the flowers? If she got them, did she like them? Did she see the note? He didn’t sign his name, would she know they were from him?

Steve didn’t sleep much that night.

Upon arriving at home, Billy found the house completely uninhabited. Max’s backpack had been thrown haphazardly inside the front door, almost making him trip over it. He kicked at it, causing it to slump sideways. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about picking it up and taking it to her room, and then yelling at her when she got home about it “Max don’t leave your fucking backpack right inside the door, I almost died!” But a small piece of white paper sticking out of the front pocket caught his eye first.

He bent down, pulling it out of the bag, and when he read it, he almost threw up. It was a tiny, wallet-sized piece of card-stock, Girls STRIKE was painted across the top of it in red ink, but that wasn’t the most disturbing part. “Leather + Lace optional”, was what really got him. What the hell was Max doing with a card that said that on it? Where did she get it? Why did she keep it?

Holding the card between his fingers, he rushed into the kitchen, quickly dialing Tommy’s number on the phone. “Dude, you have got to see this shit. I’ll meet you in ten.” He said, hanging up and going back outside to his car.

He did make it across town to Loch Nora in record time, laying on his horn for Tommy to come outside. He had just planned to sit in the car and show Tommy the card. “Look at what I found in Maxine’s backpack.” Billy sighed, tossing the card into Tommy’s lap.

“Shit, what’s your thirteen-year-old sister doing with this?” Tommy examined it.

“My thoughts exactly.” Billy replied. “But then I remembered that she went to the library with Joanna and Nancy Wheeler on Tuesday after school. And who’s been acting weird this week, but Jo and Carol, and they’ve been working on that stupid art project with Wheeler.”

“So… You think this is the art project?”

“Could be.” Billy lit a cigarette. “I went over to Harrington’s after school. He said his girlfriend has been acting weird too lately.”

“She’s included in that project the girls are doing.”

“Precisely, amigo.”

“So what are we supposed to do about this?” Tommy waved the card in his hand.

“Looks like we’ve got a party to go to.”

Also, over on Isola Road, Nancy was secretly sleeping over at Jonathan’s. Joyce never actually had an issue with Nancy staying over, she trusted both of them, but understood how it might be awkward to asl your mom if your girlfriend can stay over, so she let them continue with their “secret” sleepovers. Nancy was hesitant to say yes Jonathan’s fifth-period offer, “Wanna stay the night?” He asked. Then she figured, maybe she should stay over, and make it a point to mention their issue. After all, her problem was very much different from the other girls’s.

But alas, they never got the chance. When she arrived, they got right to work on studying for an English exam, and then they decided to watch a movie. (A television was the latest and greatest edition to Jonathan’s bedroom) And by the time the movie was over, they were basically half-asleep, so what would be the point in mentioning sex now? Whether it was happening, or not.

They laid in bed, side-by-side, barely touching each other. “Jonathan?” Nancy said, the darkness of the room making her voice seem a lot louder than it actually was.

“Yeah Nance?”

“You know you can touch me, right? Like we can cuddle or whatever, you aren’t gonna break me.”

From beside her, Jonathan chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay…” Nancy turned on her side, facing away from him. She was about to fall asleep, feeling completely and utterly defeated, when she felt Jonathan’s arm wrap around her middle. She smiled, feeling slightly accomplished.

Nancy had a good night’s sleep that night.

FRIDAY

Friday was a relatively easy day. Tommy and Billy had decided to keep their distance from their girlfriends, not wanting to draw any extra attention to themselves, or make them wise to the fact that they knew everything that they were scheming.

After Billy had talked to Tommy, he had driven over to Steve’s, tossing the card at him just like he did Tommy. “Told ya I’d figure it out.” Steve was shell-shocked, eyes wide and nodding at everything Billy was saying. He grasped most of the information. “This is why your girl’s been acting weird… Party at Joanna’s on Friday… Better call Byers to let him know…”

Steve did call Jonathan, who had absolutely no clue anything was going on, he had had a big project at the Post throughout the week that had taken most of his focus away from school.

So the plan was set, Billy was going to pick everyone up, and they were crashing the fucking party.

Jo had told her dad to go away for the weekend. “It’s just a little party dad, a couple girls. No boys, I pinky-swear. Please…” She didn’t have to beg much, her dad would probably do anything she asked, almost short of murder if she said please.

Nancy and Di had made sure to have secure alibis with their parents, and bags already packed. Nancy drove them all to Jo’s house, where they finished setting up what Jo had done earlier.

She had cleaned the house the night before, trying to take her frustrations out by tidying up. Carol’s brother dropped off copious amounts of alcohol, and a gram of weed just for an extra treat (He had a soft-spot for Jo). Red lights were strung up around the entire house; the living room, kitchen, all over the basement. The entire kitchen table was covered in drinks, and Carol was on music-duty so it would be nonstop bangers all night.

Nothing could go wrong.

They all got dressed, none of them wore leather or lace, it was more of a joke, but they did wear black and/or red. “We look hot!” Di squealed.

Girls began to arrive as early as seven thirty, to which they were gladly welcomed. Within an hour, the party was in full-swing, music blasting, alcohol flowing; someone had brought glitter and it was everywhere, but nobody cared, because there was not a man in sight.

That was, until, Jo heard the roar of a scarily familiar car engine from outside the house.

She stopped, dead in her tracks, almost spitting out her drink. From across the room, her and Nancy locked eyes. Shit. No, no, it couldn’t be, the boys didn’t know about the party.

Jo walked through the crowd of girls to the front window, staring in shock as Billy stepped out of the Camaro. “Holy shit.” She mumbled.

She set her drink down on the windowsill, rushing to step onto the front porch. Nancy, noticing her panicked stare from across the room, grabbed Di and Carol and they followed her onto the porch. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jo said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she greeted her boyfriend.

“You’re found out sweetheart. We’ve come to crash the party.”

“But- How? How did you find out?”

Billy pulled the wallet-sized card out of his pocket. “Max kept a copy for herself after your little library rendezvous.”

“Well shit.” Jo face-palmed.

“Just give up, give in. You’ve lost.” The four girls stood, shocked at the presence of their boyfriends, who stood smugly in front of them. “C’mon, it was a good effort, but we figured you out. Throw in the towel.”

Not thinking her friends would give up so easily, Jo shook her head. But to her surprise, her friends had actually thrown in the towel. Billy walked forward, pulling her to him by her waist. She couldn’t put up a fight, she had been so strong all week, but she was finally ready to give in. “How I’ve missed you, princess.” Jo pouted as he peppered her face with kisses. “We’ve got some lost time to make up for, come on.”

Jo was a too drunk to form coherent thoughts, let alone form a coherent argument to figure out how or why or when Billy had figured out their plan. When she took Max and her friends out for food this week, she would have to investigate how Max managed to steal a copy of the poster.

From over Billy’s shoulder, she watched as the other girls desperately fell into the arms of their boyfriends. Shit, they had lost. They had lasted the entire week, but the hadn’t been able to keep it a secret.

Defeated, she let Billy drag her to the depths of her bedroom, locking the door, and finally surrendering to him.

MONDAY

On Monday, the girls met outside, next to Nancy’s car.

Nancy was glowing, the winter sun illuminating her face, her cheeks a bright rosy tint. Carol was grinning from ear to ear, clearly exponentially happy. Diana was staring blissfully into the distance. Jo was happy, albeit angry with how her plan failed, she had an extremely euphoric weekend.

“So, ladies, how was your weekend?”

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (17)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Haaa... what a pleasure to reopen your business after an absence. Well, you didn’t want it, but you must admit that this little weekend has done you good. Even if in the end, Ghostface came to see you in your hospital room. But you are finally back in your café, your kingdom, your haven of peace.  If some people find their work too stressful and boring in the long run, for you, your coffee is the opposite. The faces of the customers, their smile, the little conversations you have with them or that they have with each other... You'll never get tired of it.

The customers are numerous, and happy to see you again! Rumors are going fast in Roseville and when the locals found out what had happened to you, they all worried about you! And seeing you again was a real relief. One of your clients, a little old lady even brought you a small bouquet of flowers! How adorable! The room was full and your Neptune's pie was always the little favorite of the guests. Even though your March cake and Ufo brownies were also starting to be popular with people. And with your new cakes, people were flocking more and more. How nice it was to see a room filled.

“Have you read the papers lately? It seems that a certain Hoggins would be in the middle of a scandal. And Mr McKellan would also be involved!” said a woman to her colleagues.  

“What? Really? What did they done?” ask one of them.

“Apparently, Hoggins would sign partnerships with his competitors, then sink them thanks to McKellan's complicity to recover more profits!” replied the woman

“What a bastard.”

“Personally, this does not surprise me. I saw the article on the website of a Georgia newspaper. They're the ones who have that exclusivity. Too bad, usually it's our little newspaper that gets good scoop like this.” said the man of the group.

“At the same time, they have another Ghostface murder to write about. This Jed Olsen is really super good! I don't know how he gets so much information!” said another woman.  

This conversation caught your attention. Yet Jed told you that the journalist from Georgia got caught, didn't he? So how is it that they publish the article before Roseville? Unless...

“Hey!” said Mattew, entering the café with a childish smile.

“Mattew! Nice to see you!  Melina isn't with you?” you answer with a bright smile.

“Nah, she’s already at work, Since the scandal came out, she's been motivated. Then? Feeling better?”

“Yeah, doctor said to not make too much efforts. But I'll be fine. The same as usual?”

“Yup! It's going to wake me up a little bit for work.”

You smile while you were preparing Mattew's order. Let's talk about him, shall we?

Mattew Erins is a lovely California Boy. His family, from Irish immigration, moved to America to pursue a career. And careers are diverse! Comedians, musicians, workers, cooks... Mattew is the only one in the family who has tried journalism. His mother, a great theatre actress, and his father, a director, tried everything to keep their son in line. But little Mattew still preferred the quest for truth to comedy. The same size as Jed, his beautiful green eyes, his body a little skinny and his blond hair make him one of the prettiest boys in Ohio. His parents were very open-minded, so he had no fear of introducing them to his boyfriend Chris, who was freaking out about the meeting. 3 years of pure love and laughter between these two and few arguments. The most interesting fact about him is that he can eat like an ogre.... without gaining weight.

“There you go!” you said, giving him his order.

“Thanks a lot! This will help!” he said taking a sip. “Haaa that’s good.”

“By the way, I heard that a newspaper in Georgia published the article on Hoggins... But Jed told me that whoever was at the reception had been caught...”

“Oh, the boss changed his strategy, to prevent Hoggins from attacking us, we sent our article to this newspaper and we waited for them to publish it to publish it right after. That way we don't risk anything, even if I think it's a bit unfair.”

“it is, but in a sense, you are protected. I heard there was a new murder of Ghostface... Jed had told me about it as well. Do we know who it is?”

“It...It was Mike. Police find Mike’s body in a state...Well, it's not pretty to see. Apparently, he went wild this time.”

“Oh God...I'm sorry to hear that...” you replied.

“He was an asshole, but he didn’t deserve it. Even the worst man in the world didn’t deserve a death like that. Well, I gotta go or my boss will be angry at me again. I'm a bit of a champion of delays at the Journal... I'll see you later! and rest from time to time!” said Mattew before leaving, smiling at you.  

You take a little time to assimilate what Mattew told you. Ghostface killed Mike. In a way, Mattew was right, even the worst man didn't deserve to die atrociously. But on the other hand, He had gone after Jed. He almost killed him. So... He looked for it. But that means you have to thank Ghostface. Because if he hadn't killed Mike... Who knows what he would have done to Jed?  

The thought of feeling indebted to Ghostface disgusts you. Because you know that he will use it to get what he wants from you. But it's a fact, he saved Jed's life. Unintentionally. The memories of last night came back to you. He saw you naked and had fun scaring you with his knife. But the cold of the blade passing over your chest didn't really displease you. It even gave you little thrills of pleasure. But it's out of the question to show it to him. Only Jed can give you these sensations. Not this lunatic who only tries to satisfy his fantasies.

But let's keep this to us, okay? For now, Jed and you are not officially together. Not yet, anyway. With what happened to him, and since he still hasn't turned the page, does he only feel ready to engage in a new relationship? Maybe it won't last? Maybe he's too scared? But yet this kiss he gave you... Isn't that proof to the contrary? That he wants to move on? And that with you he finally hopes he will get there?

All this is still confused. You'll have to discuss it with him... be sure that's what he wants. Because you’re sure about what you want: for you he's the only one that can make you happy, you're sure. But what about him? You sigh while shaking your head, you don't have time to think about that at the moment. you have to focus on your work... And on Ghostface.  

If you couldn't find out more about him last night, you know that sooner or later he'll let his guard down, or he'll say something interesting to bring him down. And there, and maybe there, you can turn the situation to your advantage. But sneaky as it is, it is able to tell you anything... or to find out the truth. And you're in serious danger of regretting it.

“Excuse me, Miss! Can I have a refill please?” said a young man.

“Of course!” you answer taking the coffee pot to refill the young man’s cup.  

Another one asks for a refill and when you are about to serve him, a man came in with a gun. A man you recognize among a thousand since he is the one who attacked you. He pointed his gun at you, ready to shoot.  Your blood only made one turn. And before he can say or do anything, you throw the coffee in his face. He screamed knocking down his gun. You take the opportunity to hit him in the stomach and you put him on the ground. You give him an arm wrench and press his back with your knees to keep him on the ground.

“Someone calls the cops! Quick! I won't be able to hold him for long!” you shout at everyone before looking at him: “Wasn't it enough to stab me? You want to kill me with a bullet between the eyes now??? I've had enough of you and your boss! You can tell McKellan I intend to stay here whether he likes it or not!” you whisper to his ear.

The police arrived a few minutes later and boarded the young man. You warn them that this is the man who stabbed you. They took note of it, alerted the police station and greeted you before leaving, the suspect in the vehicle. Once inside, everyone applauded you. You feel both flattered and embarrassed, you acted only instinctively... nothing more. You resumed your work for the rest of the day. Proud of your action, you can't help but smile, you can't wait to tell Melina, Mattew and Jed all about it.

The end of the day came and as usual you go around your café to make sure everything was locked. Especially the back shop. As you went to close the back door, two hands came to hide your eyes which startled you. A little laugh was heard, a familiar laugh.

“Ready to go home Miss?” Said Jed laughing a little.

“Jed! You’ve scared me!” you answer, tapping his shoulder as he turned around and laughed.

“Sorry, I couldn't help it. Are you done going around? Are you ready to go home?”

“I am. We can go. I have to tell you something crazy.”

“What? A client fell on his butt because you clean the floor too much?”

“No... The man who stabs me attacked me again. Don’t worry he didn't have time to do anything. I sent him coffee in the face and I mastered him like a champion of martial arts! You should have seen that!” you replied proudly.

“You've mostly had some pretty sharp reflexes. Someone told the police? Did they come?” He asks.  

“Yes. I told them that he was the one who stabbed me. But it seems that they already knew at the police station. Thanks to your testimony. Besides Mattew told me for... your former colleague. Mike. Ghostface apparently didn't miss him.”

Jed only nod before opening the van’s door. You get in and put your belt before watching Jed again hoping he answers. But nothing. He simply started the car and hit the road to get home. You look at the road slightly annoyed thinking that you have to thank Ghostface for somehow saving Jed's life. Jed noticed your annoyance and patted your leg while smiling before refocusing on the road.

He parked, went down, and you both took the opportunity to pick up your respective mail. Mrs. Lawson took you in her arms when she saw you, which made Jed sneer at this embarrassing situation. You reassure the old lady before you say goodbye and leave with Jed to your respective apartments.

“Hey... it doesn't seem to be going well. You... Do you want to talk about it?” ask Jed, worried.

“It's just that... I feel compelled to thank Ghostface for killing Mike. After all, he tried to kill you at work... Who knows what could have happened to you? Maybe Mike would have come here, he'd come home and...” you said, some tears forming at your eyes.  

“Hey hey hey...It’s over now. And you don't have to feel indebted to this murderer. Mike didn't know where I was living anyway. He could never have done anything to me. And then... I know how to defend myself a little bit. Even if you don't see it... You know what? Tomorrow night I'll invite you to dinner. At home or in the restaurant of your choice. I owe you that. It'll change your mind. Ok?”  

You nod and kiss him on the cheek before wishing him good night. You close the door of your apartment and sigh with relief, but look dreamy. a one-on-one dinner with Jed. Well, this is not the first time but ... There you can discuss. Either you're officially together, or he'd rather wait. But with the sign numbers you've seen, if he tells you, he's not sure he wants to engage in a relationship with you, you'll be disappointed... but not discouraged.  

You head to the kitchen to get ready to eat. Tonight, it's Mexican. Homemade fajitas to reward yourself for your day. You've earned them! You prepare your meal, the sweet smells of spices spreading throughout the room, sweet and slightly spicy smells. You smile proudly of the result when suddenly two hands came to hide your eyes.

“Smells pretty good here... There are some for me, I hope?” Said Ghostface by releasing one of your eyes to try to catch a fajita. A gesture stopped by a wooden spoon on the hand.

“Don't even think about it. I'm not going to let you sting my food. Why don't you go steal your meal from one of your future victims? Or go home.” you answer frowning.

“Oh, come on. You can do it again. Given the amount, you could feed your whole building. I have the right to eat at least one. So? I’ve heard you've mastered your attacker? You see that sometimes diplomacy is not always the best solution. And again... I'm sure you would have slaughtered him if you had been alone.” he replied, laughing.

“I already told you that I'm not twisted as you are. And I only did it because he was pointing a gun at me. It's self-defence.” You said slightly angry.

“Of course, Of course! But you know... you start with a kick or a punch... And then you move on to an iron bar... or a stab wound. You know when you've lived a life like mine... After a while you think: either you are the prey or the predator. I'll let you guess which route I took.”

“I'd never be like you.”

“And I don't want to! You'll just be my accomplice; you won't say anything... you'll lie to the police... You will be... my guardian angel. My beautiful angel. And then who knows... Maybe you'll save me from madness. or that I will train you with me.”

“I have someone now and...”

“Do you really want to live with that Nerdy Boy? While you could have a more exciting, more dangerous life! Do you prefer a boring life to that? I'm not saying Jed won't be faithful to you... from what I learned from him, he's the best boyfriend girls would love to have. But all he thinks about is working. As I told you, I will treat you like a queen. A treasure from which no one will come near. You will be mine, and only mine. I'll never let anyone take what I care about again.” Said Ghostface touching your cheek with gloved hand.  

You were about to react when he ran over you, sticking his arms on the worktop. You could hear the breath through his mask, then a little sneer before he retired, a fajita in hand. He walked to the window, lightly lifted his mask to take a bite. Then he handed it over and looked at you.

“Taste good, but I would have added a little more spice. Oh, by the way, don't thank me for saving your little nerd's life. I need him to talk about my exploits. Think carefully... He or I. Sweet dreams.”

Then he vanished. But at least you've learned a little more. It's only a small step, but it's better than nothing. But what did he lose to get to this point? Only he has the answer.  For now, you have to hold on. Choosing between him and Jed? The choice is quickly made.

And maybe once you're together... You can bring him down.

And finally, you'll be free from the Devil.

At least that's what you think.

***

(And it’s done! Pass my code asks me for time, sometimes I wonder how I get to write and focus on my code at once. But I hope you’ll like this chapter! And now I'm resting my brain for the weekend! Have a great week-end everyone! See ya!)

[queernarchy]

Statement of Elizabeth Williams, regarding a box of tapes found in the basement of her student house. Statement given October 18th, 2018, 105 Hill Top Road, Oxford.

[INT. OXFORD, 105 HILLTOP RD, UPSTAIRS BEDROOM]

[TAPE CLICKS ON]

[SOUNDS OF BETH STUTTERING, APPARENTLY SEARCHING FOR SOMETHING TO SAY]

[A SHAKY INHALE]

BETH

Right. Um. I, uh. Right.

[PAUSE]

BETH

To be perfectly honest, I’m not really sure what I’m doing. I- I found this. It’s the only one I’ve found in the box that’s blank. You know, I’ve never actually seen a tape recorder, like in real life? It’s quite - Well, I’m not even sure I know how to use it. Except … I do. Because I turned it on. I hit the button and now I’m talking to it, like it’s a person. Like I’m crazy, which … I might be. God, I might be. 

[BREATH]

BETH

I probably am. In fact, I hope I am. I hope I was just dreaming it all up. Another sign of an overactive imagination. Spending too much time with those books and not in the real world, as mum would say.

[PAUSE]

Even if it was real, there is no reason for me to be talking to you - no, to this. [TO HERSELF] It’s a tape recorder, Beth, it’s not a person. [BACK TO NORMAL] But I am. It feels right to, to tell you. So I’m going to. I’m going to tell you what happened and then it’ll be over. And I can go back to my life. 

BETH (STATEMENT)

I’m not great at this. The talking, the explaining, the storytelling, it’s not really my thing, at least not anymore. 

When I was a kid it was easy, you know? I was always latching onto one thing or another, letting it consume my brain and then going on and on about it to whatever poor soul I could corner long enough into listening. My parents didn’t let me use a computer until I was well into my teens - something about them making nightmares worse? It was all bollocks, really, how would they know that if they never actually let me use one? But, anyways, before that I used to spend hours in the Wokingham library touring the sections. Once, when I was twelve, I read a book on oceanography: Vanished Ocean: How Tethys Reshaped the World, and spent a solid week scouring the corners of every bookshelf for anything I could find on ancient supercontinents or vanished fault lines before giving my report to the first unlucky and unsuspecting librarian who happened to be out in the open. [LAUGHS] Poor Mike.

I never cared what the genre was, nonfiction, mystery, fantasy, that was never important to me. I just loved the pursuit, and the compelling joy of walking through a new world. It was like a secret between me and the writer, something that we knew that nobody else did. 

I always dreamed of being a writer too one day, but like I said, the storytelling part never actually came natural to me, no matter how many books I consumed. I suppose it must have been that lack of skill that bugged the people around me to no end. My father spent most of his time at work and I didn’t really get along with my brother or sister, but let’s just say that my mum was never as ... enthusiastic about my new interests as I was. 

It wasn’t her fault, I was deeply, deeply irritating. But to my credit, the minute I realized that, well, that’s when I finally started to shut up. Thinking back, I think that’s where it started. I had always kind of been afraid of pretty much anything and everything. But when I got old enough, I started to routinely feel a gripping terror bubbling up through my stomach, my chest, shaking my limbs and rooting me to the spot whenever I spoke for more than a minute at a time. 

All this to say, a few years ago I graduated secondary school with absolutely no skill in writing, the one thing I actually enjoyed, and a lot of anxiety. It seems inevitable that I would end up studying library sciences, doesn’t it? It’s practically what I’ve always done anyways - sorting and researching. And a future as a librarian with a couple cats and a cozy cottage, surrounded by books, well … there are worse things. Much worse. 

I moved into student housing right before my first term started at Oriel. I call it student housing, but it’s not, not technically. The actual dorms were a bit out of my price range, so when I saw an ad looking for flatmates in Cowley, only a 20 minute bus ride from the college, it seemed meant to be. There were ten living here all together, to start. George moved into his boyfriend’s place last year, leaving nine of us. [DARKLY] Well, eight, now, I suppose.

It was a proper house, renovated a few years back, I think, but it was already thoroughly  trashed by the time I showed up. It was one of those places that, the minute you walked through the door, you could just feel the grime lurking between the worn couches and stained mattresses, that musty smell of overuse. I tried to ignore it, I did, but one Friday night a couple weeks after I’d settled in, I waited until everyone had gone and walked to the closest shop to buy a blacklight. It went about as well as you’d expect. I spent that entire weekend scrubbing this house from top to bottom. I even cleaned Sam’s room. It’s not like I’m a germaphobe or anything, I just like to know where things have been. And if they dirty again, well, at least I know it’s the slobbery of my friends rather than that of strangers. 

I didn’t touch the basement, though. None of us ever did. I’m not sure why, it was always just an unspoken agreement between us. I must have asked about it when I moved in. I must have. I mean, it would be one thing if it just never came up, if it was just an unfinished and unsafe part of the house we didn’t go down to and that was that. But, you know, thinking about it now, we didn’t even mention it, not once. It’s amazing, isn’t it, what you can ignore. Right up to the moment you’re devoured by it.

I don’t remember the exact moment things started to feel wrong. Can’t have been more than a couple weeks ago. It was subtle, at first. Doors swinging closed on their own, misplaced items, shadows that didn’t really ... fit. All things that could be chalked up to the mind playing tricks out of boredom, or fatigue - just a consequence of one too many sleepless nights. I didn’t really think about it too hard, even when Sam brought it up at breakfast, started insisting the place was haunted. That was easy to dismiss, she’s always going on about some supernatural this or that and I don’t believe in ghosts, but even that would have been easily digestible as an explanation. 

It was like that for a few days, and all the while, that feeling of wrongness lurked in the background, pulsing beneath us. I honestly don’t know if I would have even taken notice if Milton hadn’t started behaving the way he did. Milton is - was - every bit the hipster film student of your wildest imaginations. I swear, I saw him wear a beret once, completely unironically. We’d been friends, as I was one of the few people who would listen to him ramble on about whatever arthouse film had caught his attention that week. We got on fine, well, actually, for flatmates at least. That’s not to say that I always liked him - I’d acted in a few of his student films, just by convenience, and he wasn’t exactly the most easy to work with. Everything always had to be just the way he wanted it, down the most minute detail. I swear, if he could have tied strings around our limbs and puppeted us from afar, he would have. [PAUSE] Sorry, that’s … that’s poor taste. 

It had to do with the cassettes. You see, Milton had always insisted on using magnetic tape for his recordings, refusing to even entertain the idea of a digital camera. Something about being more authentic - I never understood it, but far be it from me to get in between a film major and their precious ‘analog charm.’ He loved those tapes, and we all got used to seeing dozens scattered throughout the house at any one time. Which is why it struck me as odd when last week, they vanished entirely. When I asked him about it, he just said that he'd been editing a new project that he needed them for. I wasn’t sure what kind of project would require that many cassettes all at once, but he certainly spent enough time working on it. He’d be locked away in his room for hours, sounds of whirring machinery coming from behind his door. When he did come out, he was exhausted, gaunt. I tried talking to him about it, you know, but he’d just ignore me.

It was strange behavior, sure, but not supernatural. Perhaps I would have chalked it up to stress, just a bad week, but that’s when the nightmares started. I had always had them, just a side effect of my anxiety, but they’d died down a couple years ago, after I moved to Oxford. One sleep after this started, though, I saw Milton. He was sat at a desk, a mess of cassettes unspooled into piles of thin black magnetic tape scattered across it. He was tangled in tape as well, almost every limb bound by it. He stared at the pile in front of him with dull eyes, completely still. 

I didn’t realize until the tape began to lift his arms that he wasn’t just tangled in it. The long, metallic strands were embedded directly into his skin. The strands controlling every movement, he grabbed a spool, and, very slowly, raised it to his mouth. His jaw unhinged, farther than anything natural, and he began to stuff the tape down his throat. Again, and again, and again, until the entire pile was gone. I had never felt relief the way I had when I finally woke from that dream. I didn’t know that was only the first time that I would have it.

I woke from one of these nightmares late one night, heart beating fast and body sticky with sweat. I climbed downstairs, trying to clear my head, and found Milton sitting in the living room, staring at our small television screen playing his movie. At least, that’s what I assumed it was. There was no coherence, no audio, just rapid, violent black and white images that flashed across the screen sporadically and bits of static that faded in and out at random. Occasionally, I’d see the corrupted and disjointed image of my own face cross the screen, along with the other actors. The pattern was hypnotic. Every few minutes, the images would perfectly align, shaping spindly, bony legs that almost seemed to reach beyond the glass face of the TV.

After a while, I finally managed to ask him if he was alright, if the cassette had become corrupted somehow, if there was any way to fix it. He had always been so fiercely protective of his tapes, and with the state it was in I expected him to be furious, or devastated, at least concerned. But when he turned, there was none of that written into his face. Just a calm, blank expression. He studied me carefully for a long moment, before finally speaking. ‘We should feed our guest. She’s so happy to have arrived, and she is very hungry.’ He smiled after he said that. When he did, I could have sworn I saw that thin black film tape weaved inside him - webbed in the back of his throat and threaded right through the fleshy center of his tongue. I went back up the stairs immediately and locked my door, sat in bed until the sun came up.

I managed to avoid him the days after that. I thought about telling the others, trying to explain it to them, but I knew it wouldn’t end well. They wouldn’t believe me, why would they? I wasn’t even sure that I believed me. I thought about moving out, of course I did, but I had nowhere to go. No money, no real friends outside of the ones I already lived with. And who knows if I was just overreacting, imagining it all. So I decided I’d just ignore him as much as I could until he went back to normal or I’d saved up enough money for a new place.

It didn’t last, though. It was three days ago that it happened. It was late, and I had carelessly lost time sitting in the kitchen, studying for my history exam. I was alone when he walked in. He didn’t say a word, just, met my eyes with that calm look, like an invitation. Then he turned, with a finality I had never seen before, opened the door to the basement, and vanished down the stairs. 

I shouldn’t have followed him. I could have just walked away, went upstairs and buried my head in my pillow. But I didn’t. I had to know. To see. 

So, I walked down those old stone steps, dodging cobwebs. I don’t remember if I closed the door behind me, or if it did that part on its own. The cellar was warm, far too warm for October. It was unfinished, and empty save for an old, lidded cardboard box that sat neatly in the center of the room. A long, jagged crack ran through the floor and up into the far wall, as though the foundation had been damaged in an earthquake or something. Milton stood facing away from me, towards the crack in the wall, whispering something I couldn’t quite make out. I called out to him, and he turned to face me, expression wild with … something. Excitement? Panic? He had started to say something before, all at once, dozens of shadowy, spindly tendrils, adorned with what looked like coarse hairs crept from the crack and began to wrap themselves around him.

I felt that familiar terror bubble up, running cold through my veins, stronger than I’d ever felt it before. I wanted to run or scream, but I couldn’t. He didn’t scream either, but I could see the fear growing in his eyes, silently pleading. He didn’t move, not even as the tendrils began to … unspool him. They reached into him, breaking into his body like plaster, and pulled. He was hoisted from the ground, his limbs yanked in different directions and elongated. They just dangled there, arms and legs and head only still attached by threads of dark, magnetic tape, like an old, torn doll hanging together by string. And then the tendrils began to move him. They took their time puppeting him, and at the end, they pulled up his head, forcing his gaze to meet mine. His cheeks were strung up into a grin, but I saw the tears that flowed freely down his contorted face. 

I don’t know how long I stood there, watching him stripped him apart, piece by piece, slowly and deliberately. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks, although I couldn’t tell if they’d come from the terror of it all or simply because I no longer possessed the ability to blink. I watched and watched. And when it was over, and he was gone, I waited. I waited for them to take me, a part of me just relieved that I didn’t have to watch anymore. I had already shut my eyes tightly before I understood that I could. I felt my hands twitch, regaining their will. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was alone, in that old, dank basement, with nothing but that long dark crack, and, in the center of the floor, the cobweb covered cardboard box, now open, and filled to the brim with tapes. 

I don’t remember the rest of the night with any real clarity. I know I stood there for a while. I know at some point I calmly bent down, picked up the box, and walked it upstairs. I spent most of the last two days just staring at it. I’ve missed all of my classes. Sam has come to see me a couple of times, to ask how I am. This morning she actually brought me a plate of spaghetti. Imagine that, spaghetti for breakfast. I do appreciate the thought, even if it makes no practical sense whatsoever. Must be an American thing. She did mention that a man stopped by yesterday. Short, greying hair, lots of weird scars, asking about ‘strange happenings’ in the house. Sam told him about her hauntings, and apparently he had been, less than impressed. He told her he was sorry, and that she should move out, and then left without another word. [LAUGH] Creep.

I finally got up the nerve to look into the box. It’s pretty much what it says on the tin: Tapes and stationary. And cobwebs. So many goddamn cobwebs. 

Nobody has said anything about Milton. I expect in the next few days someone will notice he’s gone. How do you explain something like that? I’ve been seeing it again, though. My nightmares … my nightmares have been getting worse. I keep ending up back there. I just watch, and watch, and watch, and I can’t turn away. 

BETH (POST STATEMENT)

Statement ends, I suppose.

[STATIC RISES]

[STUTTERS, CONFUSED]

…. Statement? I, I don’t, I didn’t -

[STATIC FALLS]

[A SHORT SIGH]

I don’t feel better. I really thought I would. I don’t know why. Why in the world did I think that telling my stupid story to this thing would make me feel better? 

The box is still sitting at the foot of my bed. I want to get rid of it, I do. So why don’t I just toss it? It would be so easy. Just … throw it out. But I can’t. 

[RIFLING THROUGH THE TAPES]

Oh, huh - 

[STATIC RISES]

This tape’s blank as well. I thought I’d sorted through them all, but I guess I missed one. Hm. 

[TOSSES THE TAPE ASIDE]

They’re quite interesting, you know. I haven’t played any of the tapes yet, but I glanced at a few of the written accounts. Some of them are so illegible I can’t even read them but others are. Compelling. They make me feel, right. Scared, but [SIGHS]. I don’t know how to explain it. 

I did some research on them, the ones I read anyways. I say research, I mean some quick Googling, a bit of asking around. They’re not real. The Magnus Institute, that’s the logo printed onto the stationary, isn’t a real place. And, as far as I can tell, these people … these people don’t exist. Anywhere. I mean, I found a few names that match but nobody who lines up to the descriptions and when I reach out to them they claim to know nothing about any of it. One of the people I called, Timothy Hodge, his name is, actually gave me the number of his psychiatrist. [LAUGH]

So maybe it’s fiction. A collection of short stories about fictional people and fictional suffering. Just a practical joke. Except, I know that it’s not. I can’t explain how, I just … Know. 

I should probably move out. Only an idiot would stay in this place, after something like that. When I leave this room, I’m going to have to walk by that basement door. Every single day.. I should leave. I want to leave. I will leave. Just, not yet. 

I need to understand, to unravel the mystery, and I’m getting the feeling that there is something in this box that’ll help me do just that. I’ll try to record whatever I find out. I do have another blank tape, after all. [HM] End recording. 

[TAPE CLICKS OFF]

[celialestial]

Okay. Well, if I’m being honest, this episode was not the greatest. This is also the first analysis I’ve made for a show, at least that I’m posting. We’ll see how this goes. Strap in, this is going to be long. 

I think we have all learned by now that Jamie-focused episodes are never the strongest. I find it a bit ironic that in a show called Jamie Johnson, the least interesting character is Jamie himself. 

We finally saw the end of the, dare I say, idiotic Under-13s subplot. The classic “arguing friends are trapped in a room together until they make-up” trope was used to its, not fullest, but decent potential. The greatest part of this episode was the fact that their eighth-grade drama was resolved; that and the ten seconds of screentime Dillon received. Liam continues to prove that he has still not grown. Here’s my analysis of his development:

[I was going to insert a clever chart of his nonexistent growth, but I’m too lazy, sorry. Here’s a paragraph about it instead:]

Liam needs to learn that manipulating people and pretending to have changed is not maturity, it’s being an asshole. He has a terrible father, that’s true, but Dillon managed to change. Nothing has ever truly been at stake for Liam. He’s been able to lie and manipulate others to get out of all the trouble he’s caused. He was given a second chance to play with the Under-13s and has continued to use those around him in order to seem, I don’t know. Big? Powerful? All he has done is made the Three Musketeers dislike him even more. He has done absolutely nothing to earn their trust. I could go on and on about Liam Simmonds, which I suppose proves he’s an interesting character (that’s more than I can say about some people *cough* Jamie *cough*). 

Eric learns that Aisha has feelings for him too. Yay! He also learns that Aisha is much smarter and more mature than him, choosing to step back and give him time to be with his friends. Yay? Freddie has been incredibly weird this season. I can’t tell if he genuinely liked Aisha as more than a friend, or if he thought he was supposed to, given how much Eric liked her. This entire storyline comprised of way too much unnecessary drama. Looking at Instagram comments, however, it seems that it was very popular among younger kids. I suppose I am a bit too old to be criticizing middle school relationship drama in a children’s show. Poor Alba was practically thrown to the dogs in favor of a petty love triangle. All of their problems were wrapped up so neatly, it felt a bit uncomfortable. Like they didn’t deserve this ending. 

I don’t know if it’s just me, but something about this episode seemed off. When comparing it to other episodes with similar premises, the lack of emotion and genuineness becomes obvious. Take episode 10, for example, there were many (and I mean many) subplots. It was a little all over the place. And yet, the end of the episode left me feeling bittersweet, intrigued, and wanting more. This episode didn’t do that. I am sick of Jamie’s bullshit and tired of this dumb love triangle. Thankfully, the latter is complete now. 

Onto Jamie’s storyline:

1) I told y’all Jetpac11 would be Jethro! These are some big brain hours.

2) This boy is supposed to be the TITLE character. His storyline is meant to be the most in depth, the most interesting, and, above all else, the most entertaining. It is none of those things. The stakes are supposed to be high, and they are, but they don’t feel like it? He supposedly lost his place at Hawkstone over a goddamn video game. Why don’t I feel anything except contempt? If not frustration at Jamie, then frustration at Ian, who I suppose I should be used to by now. Everyone says Jamie should know better than to trust him after all he’s done. That he should just listen to Mike. Obviously that’s true, but Ian was on his side, not the other way around. Ian enabled Jamie and allowed him to make a stupid decision, one that has huge consequences. Ian didn’t tell Jamie to keep playing for his own gain, well, kind of. He let Jamie keep playing because he though it would make him happy and regain his trust. It’s the same reason Mike lied to Hawkstone. Both adults displayed extremely poor judgement, Ian just far more so, as always. I must admit that I have zero interest in video games. I also have zero interest in soccer (or, rather, football). Yet this show keeps me interested in the matches and invested in the characters. They have failed at maintaining my interest in this video gaming storyline. Part of this could be because I find Jamie boring and repetitive, or maybe he simply seems that way due to the plethora of vastly more compelling side characters. All I have learned from this is that Jamie is a pretty terrible friend, a poor judge of character, and impulsive. These are all faults he has had since season 1, except he used to be a genuinely decent friend. He has grown more self-involved and one-sighted (and one-sided, as in one-dimensional, or you could take it literally, seeing as one leg is currently out of commission). I get that he was hit by a car and his leg is broken. He doesn’t see a future in soccer for himself anymore. Mike is right, though, he should be focused on getting better and being able to play again. I don’t even like Mike most of the time -- I honestly find him fairly annoying, although this may be due to the acting -- but he is the only sane one in the Johnson family right now. Both of Jamie’s parents are enabling him and Mike has too, though only for around an episode and a half. I am so happy this storyline will be resolved next week. I am sure we will still be left with a cliffhanger at the end, as with every season. 

Dillon also got a bit of screentime in this episode (wow, a whole twenty seconds!). I really do like the way the writers are portraying how conflicted he is. He is torn between living a lie or risking his future as a professional player. I understand why they introduced Elliot. He was Dillon’s first crush and I think he was necessary for Dillon to come to terms with his sexuality. Where they messed up with Elliot, however, is by entirely removing him from the show after he fulfilled his purpose of giving Dillon the strength to come out. Just as @mcustorm said, he was a plot device and it was out of character for him to out Dillon. I could probably write a whole essay about how dirty both Elliot and Kat were done. The only way using exclusively Ruby to further Dillon’s storyline would’ve worked was if they kept the whole “Ruby has a crush on Dillon” thing from season 4. Doing that would likely ruin their entire dynamic as best friends and make things awkward. If they had done that and made, say Harry or Michel his first crush, they wouldn’t need Elliot to be Dillon’s first real crush. Although, Dillon was only around 11 or 12, and most real crushes don’t hit until 13-14, at least in my experience. Also if they had ruined Dillon and Ruby’s dynamic, then Dillon would have no real support system. I can’t really see Ruby abandoning Dillon over this, though, even if she had an unrequited crush. 

Next week should wrap up both Jamie’s and Dillon’s storylines. It will also be the final episode of season 5! A lot to look forward to and a lot to be absolutely terrified of, not to mention the fact that season 6 production has been postponed for obvious reasons. 

TL;DR:

It’s the end of the Under-13s drama! And possibly the end of Aisha, knowing how JJ deals with its newly irrelevant characters.

Jamie is being stupid and probably lost his chances of getting into Hawkstone. Or maybe not, considering he’s the protagonist of a kid’s show. JJ does have a habit of dealing out real consequences, though, so who knows.

Dillon got... something? He’s feeling conflicted, which is entirely natural, especially at this stage in his coming out. 

Next week is the last episode! Stay tuned for more, I guess. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this type of proper analysis. 

[what-if-i-imagine]

Promises, Hugs, and Kisses

When he first moved to Hawkins, Indiana, Lucas Sinclair wanted nothing more than to go back to the city. That is, until he met Will Byers, a timid boy who was the only resident of the town to catch his six year old interest on the first day of kindergarten. As they grow up constantly showing each other affection through hugs and kisses, Lucas builds a list of promises in his head to try and protect Will from the very cruel world they live in.

Or

In which Lucas and Will are casually in love with each other throughout their childhood but Lucas starts cracking down through the events of sessions one and two.

Lucas Sinclair had just recently moved to Hawkins, Indiana with his parents and eight month old sister, and he hated it. His parents told him over and over that this was for the best. They would be closer to his uncle Jack, and the small town life would be good for him and Erica’s development, whatever that meant. He still hated it though, and hated everyone in it. They were all boring cookiecutter husks of people that he had seen on the sitcoms and soap operas his mom watched, everyone of them just like the ones before. There was no one interesting for his six year old brain to latch onto, leaving him in a constant state of tired boredom

Lucas had met the Wheelers briefly during the barbecue they were invited to their first week in the cul-de-sac. The Wheelers were a perfect example of literally every boring family in town.They were okay enough people, but dull and plastic. Their son, Mike, was more interesting than most people he had met in the town, but he talked far too much for Lucas’s usual liking in conversations. He couldn't find it in himself to hold enough interest in the boy or his family or his town to last him more than five minutes.

The first day of kindergarten came, and of course, he didn't know anyone and made no attempts at knowing anyone. He had overheard his father the night before expressing the same feelings as him about the town. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his parents asked him if he wanted to go back home. Back to Indianapolis. So there was no point in talking to anyone he didn't have to.

Lucas got home from school to find his mom was already getting started on dinner and his dad was still at work. When he had nothing to report of the days events, his mother sent him outside to play in the front yard so she could have some quiet time while Erica napped. He went out and tried to entertain himself, for his mother’s sake, but ended up just laying on his back on the grass, staring at the sky as his brain tried to find something in the cloud for stimulus. Even the clouds were boring here, resembling the exact shape a kid would draw for them.

Then it happened. The Wheeler’s second car, the one he always saw Mrs. Wheeler driving, pulled into the next door driveway. Mike climbed out of the side facing the Sinclair yard, but another pair off feet could be seen under the car, tattered sneakers that Lucas didn't recognize. A boy, smaller than Mike by a lot, ran around the back of the car to grab onto his arm. He looked startled and out of his element, brown bowl cut fluttering around his head as he nervously took in his surroundings. He wore a colorful sweater- something lucas could only ever imagine a girl pulling off- under a pair of obviously second hand overalls. His bowl cut was home done, unlike most kids he had seen that day, the back of it cut slightly crooked like this was his parents first time doing it. For the first time since they got here last month, Lucas felt his interest peak.

“Micheal, help me with the groceries,” he could hear Mrs. Wheeler say as she went to unlock the trunk. When the small boy tried to reach for the bags and help too, Mrs. Wheeler shooed him away. “No William. Go ahead and wait out here, Mike will come out when all the groceries are away.”

She and Mike disappeared into the house with arms full of groceries, leaving the small boy alone in the driveway. His eyes were wide, staring at the front door as if looking away would make it disappear. Anytime a loud car on the busy road leading to the cul-de-sac would pass, the boy would flinch and dig the tip of his right shoe into the pavement ready to run. After a few minutes passed without Mike reamirging from the house, Lucas decided to make his move.

“Hey you!” he yelled, causing the boy to flinch harder than he had before. He looked over like a startled animal caught at the end of a hunter’s gun. Lucas stood from the grassy lawn and waved his hand, beaconing the boy to him.

When the boy didn't move, he tried again, “You know it’s rude to ignore people! Come here!”

The boy spared one last long glance at the Wheeler’s front door before timidly making his way into the Sinclair yard, stopping at the edge of the grass. Up close, Lucas took in just how small the boy was. He looked more the size of a three year old than a five year old, every proportion seemingly too small to be right. HIs hands were as small as the rest of him with delicate fingers that had the remains of crayon stuck under his nails. On his overalls Lucas could see where paint and dirt stains had been scrubbed at futally, causing the denim to wear out without the stains being removed completely. Up close he could tell just how ill fitting the overalls were, as a clothespin was hooked under both the boy’s arms. His shoes were going to fall apart any day now, either constantly used by him or second hand like his overalls, most likely both with chalk and scuffs covering the once vibrant red surface.

“My name is Lucas Sinclair,” Lucas introduced, holding out his hand. The boy glanced up for a moment, then back down. He shook his hand, but didn't give a name in return. Lucas noted how the boy barely grabbed his hand during the shake, and how his hand trembled ever so slightly in his grip.

“I live next door to Mike,” he explained as if it weren't obvious. “I’m in kindergarten too.”

The boy nodded.

“My dad was in the air force. We move around a lot. He works as a lawyer in town now. My mom is a lawyer too, but she's staying home to take care of my baby sister Erica for now.”

Another nod.

“Don't you talk at all?”

Another nod.

“Then talk.”

“William Byers,” the boy said quietly but loud enough to be heard. Lucas could tell the boy had a naturally quiet voice, like his auntie or the girl he knew from preschool that was still carrying around his first kiss. 

“What?” he said anyways, in hopes the boy would talk more. As quiet as it was, his voice was nice for the two words he spoke.

“I’m-m William Byers,” the boy looked up at him now, up though his bangs and eyelashes. Now that he was having to say more than just his name, Lucas could hear how bad the boy’s stutter was. “Th-that’s my n-n-name. My family and M-M-Mike call m-me Will.”

“Anything else Will?”

Lucas grinned at the sight of the boy, of Will, thinking so hard about his next response. His nose crinkled a little and he looked down, but only with his eyes this time. It was like speech was some grand mystery to him that he was desperately grasping at straw to figure out. He thought for a long while, nipping at his lip every so often. When he looked up again, he only seemed more nervous than before.

“M-m-my mama works at M-Melvald’s General Store in town, and m-my daddy works somewhere...I-I think,” he said meekly, shoulder raising to his ears.

“You think?”

“M-my brother says he gets f-fired a lot.”

“You have a brother?” Lucas sat down on the grass, motioning for Will to follow. When he did sit with him, still not on the grass, he drew his knees to his chest to rest his chin on them, taking up as little space as possible.

“His n-name is Jonathan. He’s f-four years older than m-me,” Will was able to look straight at Lucas when they sat like this. Part of Lucas enjoyed not having to look down, the other part missed the sight of the shorter boy having to look up. “He likes taking pictures a lot. He’s really shy, so no one ever notices him doing it.”

“Is everyone in your family quiet?” Lucas asked, leaning forward a bit. His own family was always bursting with so much noise. Even his quiet and well mannered auntie could get loud and oozing with confidence like the rest of the Sinclairs if she was given enough drinks.

“No,” Will shook his head, pulling Lucas out of his thoughts. He was picking at the crayon shavings under his nails, no longer making eye contact. “M-Mama and Daddy are really loud people. Mama likes to yell at m-men who tell her what to do, and she really likes t-talking to-to-to people. Daddy likes t-talking to people to-too, but he never yells at p-people outside t-the house.”

“So then why are you and your brother shy?”

Will shrugged, “Ma-Mama says that her and Daddy m-must have used up all of our voices be-before we were born. Daddy says I’m dre-ad-ful at talking.”

“He’s right,” Will’s face went pink and he buried it in his knees, curling in tighter on himself. Lucas felt gilt rise up in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to make him feel better at that moment.

“Sorry,” Lucas mumbled. “That sounded mean. I didn't mean for it to sound mean.”

He waited another moment before scooting forward and nudging at Will’s shoe with his own, “Keep talking, please? I like the sound of your voice.”

Will peaked up as if to make sure he wasn't joking before uncurling just a bit. He watched Lucas for any sign of sarcasm or humor before nodding.

“M-my brother likes m-music. It’s loud. M-Mama says that's where the rest of his loudn-ness must go.”

“Where does she think the rest of yours goes?” Lucas asked, encouraging him to keep going.

“She isn't sure yet,” he bit his lip.

“Where do you think it goes?”

Will bit the corner of his lip, “I-I don't think I ever had any.”

“I’m sure you do. It’s just hiding right now,” Lucas’s grin returned. Will smiled back fully, and if Lucas was honest with himself, that smile fuled him for the rest of the week.

The sound of the Wheeler’s front door bursting opened startled them both. As Mike ran outside, both boys sprang to their feet, and Lucas could feel a sowel pulling at the corner of his lips. Mike barely even noticed Lucas’s presence, and all of Will’s attention dragged to the Wheeler boy.

“My mom said we can play in the basement if we’re careful,” Mike said when Lucas tuned in after a moment to what he was saying.

“O-okay. I’ll m-meet you down there,” Will said with a wide smile. Mike ran off back to the house, and before following, turned back too Lucas with a shyer smile.

“Talk to you later?” Lucas asked, returning the smile.

Will nodded and when Lucas thought he was going to leave, he instead stepped forward and hugged him. He felt impossibly smaller when his arms were around the taller boy, and Lucas’s heart leapt as he hugged back. Then Will was disappearing into the Wheeler’s house, and Lucas was standing alone on his lawn.

It was another week before Lucas saw Will again, never able to catch him before he went into the Wheeler house with Mike. The night he saw him again it happened because he sat outside on his lawn until it was time for Will to leave the Wheeler house.

Will didn't notice him, too focused on getting down the dark driveway without tripping to get to his mom’s car. Lucas jumped up at the sight of him and quickly ran over before he could get in the car. He simply hugged and very shocked Will tightly before running back to his own house. He did this every night from then on until late November when a topic he had all but forgotten came up at the dinner table.

“Baby, what would you think about us moving back to Indianapolis?” Lucas dropped his fork in shock, his head snapping up to face his mother and father.

“Don't look so surprised,” his father laughed.

“We can't leave,” Lucas blurted, eyes wide.

“Why not? Baby, we know how much you don't like it here. You don't have any friends like you did back in the city, wouldn't you like to go back to them?” his mother asked.

“I have a friend,” Lucas protested. His parents exchanged skeptical glances.

“Why don't you invite your friend over this weekend then?” his father suggested.

  So that was how Lucas ended up running around town asking every adult who would humor him about the Byers family. He learned they were fifth generation Hawkins residents on both sides and had lived on the same property on the edge of town for two generations on Will’s mom’s side. People’s opinions varied on the family, many negative and saying they were a disgrace to the town, others singing Lonnie Byers’s praises. He got their address from a store clerk who used to work with this Lonnie guy that Lucas assumed was Will’s dad and biked down the tree enclosed road until he got to the gravel driveway. There were no cars in the driveway, but the lights of the house were on.The house itself looked about exactly how he imagined. Small, old and unkempt on the outside. When he knocked on the door it was answered by a boy who must have been the same age as Mike’s sister who he quickly registered as Jonathan. Unlike Will, his older brother’s clothes were dark and lacking in color, but still too big for him and worn in.

“Hello,” Joanthan asked more than greated. He spoke quiet like Will, but Lucas could tell he wasn't really meant to be a quiet person. He reminded him more of his cousin, the son of his quiet auntie, who was hesitant and nervous but carried a much louder voice than his mother.

“I’m Lucas Sinclair,” he shook the older boy’s hand. A bit of recognition flashed across Jonathan’s face and he looked over his shoulder and a thud sound that came from inside. Lucas tired too look around him to see what had fallen, but couldn't see anything in the living room. “Is Will home?”

“Yeah, give me a second,” the older boy mumbled, still looking over his shoulder. He ducked into the house and shouted Will’s name a few times before the pitter patter of small feet came running to the door.

“I fell,” Lucas heard Will admit to his older brother as a fond smile creeped over Jonathan’s face. Will’s brother left the doorway and Will’s tiny frame replaced him, his hair being ruffled by Jonathan as he walked away. Lucas could definitely see the family resemblance. They were both smaller than most kids their age with similar faces and home done hair cuts. The only differences Lucas could see at the moment were their different hair and eye colors.

Without a word, Lucas leaned forward and placed a kiss on Will’s forehead, like he saw his father do in the mornings to his mother when she was still barely awake. Will turned pink again, but this time it fully reached his ears.

“Since you don't understand, I’m going to tell you now,” Lucas started. “You are officially my best friend. I don't care what Mike Wheeler says, you’re mine.”

Will rapidly blinked at him, his mind visibly working a mile a second to compute what had just happened.

“My parents want you to have a sleepover at my house this weekend. This is our number,” Lucas handed Will the note card his mother had given him before he left the house. “Have your mom call my mom to work out the details.”

After that weekend their families fell into tradition. On Saturdays, when Will’s dad wasn't home, the Byers and Sinclair families would eat dinner together, switching houses every other week. Whichever house they were at for dinner, the son of the opposite family would stay the night and be dropped off or picked up before the Sinclairs went to church on Sunday.

They became so accustomed to the rhythm of things that Lucas felt like something had hit him with the speed of a bus when it was interrupted. Mrs. Byers had called and tried to cancel dinner that weekend, telling his mother that their house wasn't fit to have people over and the boys weren't feeling so good. His mother insisted though and talked to Mrs. Byers until she cracked and agreed to come to their house insead for that weekend.

When they Byers got to the house, something different and odd hung in the air. Mrs. Byers’s voice was slightly hoarse, like she had been yelling or crying a lot, and all of them looked very very tired. Will and Jonathan were usually quiet, but that night they didn't speak at all during dinner, and refused to look up from their plates. Mrs. Byers and Jonathan left to head back home, but before she walked out Mrs. Byers hugged Will tighter than Lucas had ever seen a mom hug their child, her nose scrunching up like Will’s did when he was thinking as she told him to have fun.

Will still didn't speak when they went up to Lucas’s room and flinched away anytime Lucas tried to touch him or even moved close to him. The next morning Mrs. Byers picked Will up early, and Will didn't even hug him goodbye.

Lucas spent the whole week thinking he had done something wrong, but was proved to just be paranoid the next weekend when the Byers were suddenly back to normal and Will was being a bit more affectionate than usual. Weekends like these started to happen about once a month, but it wasn't until February that Lucas learned how to navigate them. All he had to do was pretend it wasn't happening and treat Will like normal. Will would warm up little by little through the night until Lucas was able to get a few words out of him and a hug goodbye in the morning.

On March 22nd, Lucas was invited to Will’s birthday party where he first met Will’s dad. Up front, his dad seemed like a nice man. He smiled a lot and talked to the Sinclairs and like they were old friends- it turned out the Wheelers were actually old friends of his and Mrs. Byers, so his warmness to them was no surprise. Mrs. Byers seemed more tense around her husband, but at the same time loser around Mrs. Wheeler and his mother.

During present opening time Mike sat on Will’s left with Lucas on his right. Will grinned big as he opened Mike’s present to him of a full box set of the The Lord of the Rings books. He was almost bouncing from his mother’s gift of crayons, his brother’s gift of chalk and Nancy Wheeler’s gift of a sketchbook. Then came the gift from his father, and the moment it was open,all of the Byers besides his dad seemed to catch their breath and hold it as if Will had been given a bomb. It was just a baseball bat though.

“I figured hes old enough to start learning now,” Mr. Byers said from his recliner chair where he was drinking a beer. “I was six when I started.”

Mrs. Byers nodded with a very tightlipped smile that Lucas saw his mother frown at. To relieve the tension, Lucas grabbed the box he had personally wrapped and sat it in front of Will.

“Open mine next,” he said, smiling to try and make Will’s smile come back. It worked, and Will melted back into his happy state, pushing the baseball bat aside.

Lucas had gotten him a rainbow sweater that he had seen in a box of clothes his auntie had sent of her daughter’s old clothes, and decided immediately that it was perfect for Will. Will hugged the sweater close with a big grin and sparkling hazel eyes. Lucas was soon trapped in a hug, and he almost laughed when he felt that Will was trying to hug him with all his nonexistent strength.

“Okay okay,” Lucas laughed, patting his back. “The sweater isn't the only thing I got you!”

Will pulled back to look back in the box, now seeing the brand new pair of yellow sneakers that sat in the bottom with “Lucas Sinclair” written on the white toes. This made Will practically launch back into his arms, almost knocking them both over in the process. He didn't stop hugging him until Mr. Byers cleared his throat, and even then Will held his hand for the rest of the party.

The Sinclairs were the last to leave the party, and when they did Lucas placed a kiss on Will’s cheek and pulled back with a grin.

“See you Saturday,” he said, then ran off down the driveways with his parents to their car.

He was shocked when that Saturday turned out to be one of those weeks. But even though Will was silent like he always was on weeks like this, he was almost doubly as affectionate with Lucas than usual. Almost all through the night he held his hand, and there were plenty of hugs and cuddles sprinkled in when they went up to his room. At first Lucas didn't understand, and even when he saw the reason, he was still confused. When Will must have thought Lucas was looking away so he could change, Lucas saw the bruises on Will’s arms and back, Some of them were fresh, but other looked like they were starting to fade, like they had been inflicted earlier in the week.

Lucas had no clue where the bruises came from, but they caused him to make a promise to Will, even though he didn't make it out loud. When it was time for bed, Lucas had Will sleep in the bed with him instead of on the floor in a sleeping bag. He kissed Will on the head and cheek before they fell asleep, the finle though of the night night being his promise.

As long as I live,  no one will ever hurt William Byers again.

Of course, everyone always saw it as Mike and Will against the world. They had the same teachers for the first three years of school, and Lucas was always in a different class. Outside of class and the Wheeler’s house though, it was Lucas and Will. Their parents found Lucas’s blatant affection for the young Byers adorable, encouraging it even as they got older, even when both Boy’s finally understood what their affection really looked like on the outside.

Will stayed just about as quiet and shy as they grew up, and Lucas stayed just about as bold and blunt. They balanced each other out, even as fumbling children who didn't know their place in the world. Will taught Lucas a lot about boundaries, and respectfulness, and how to find joy in the silence. Lucas taught Will a lot about adventure, and joy, and how to live his life outside of his own head every so often.

By third grade, he finally got the same teacher as Will. So did Mike.

Both the boys’ parents discovered that year how hot headed and possessive they could be. A few scuffles here and there, barely hidden glares, name calling and passive aggressive comments grew between them that always took place behind Will’s back. At one point when they were bother waiting with Nancy and Jonathan at a playground for Will to finish in the bathroom, a fight got so bad that the two thirteen year olds had to rip them apart. That day was when their cover was broken, as Will came out of the bathroom to see the tail end of the fight. Long story short, Lucas and Mike had a crying Will on their hands and a very pissed off Jonathan. A new truce was made between them, monitored by Nancy, to play nice and try to be friends, for Will’s sake.

Lucas’s promise evolved into something knew: As long as I live, I will never hurt William Byers again.

The truce actually brought Lucas and MIke to realize just how much they had in common, and soon it wasn't just one of them and Will. It was Will, Mike and Lucas against the world.

Despite their happiness as a trio, it was that same year that Lucas learned just how bad Will and Jonathan had it at home. He learned what the baseball bat from Will’s sixth birthday really meant to them from Jonathan. He learned what the bruises that sometimes peaked out from Will’s collar meant from his parents when they sat him down after one of those weeks, the worst one yet when Will was acting off the entire week. He learned during a late night confession from Will what those weeks actually were.

“My parents have always fought a lot,” the combination of Will’s already soft voice and whispers in the dark made it almost impossible to hear him, but Lucas managed to. “Those Saturday’s we’re acting weird, its because none of us got sleep because Mom and Dad were fighting all night.”

“Why do they fight,” Lucas risked asking.

“Because of me,” Lucas almost cut in to tell Will that couldn't be true, but Will stopped hi,. “It’s true. Jonathan says they must have been in love at some point, but he never says they act like it even before I was born. It was only after I was born that they started fighting. Dad started drinking, Mom picked up more shifts at work to pay my hospital bills, and Jonathan tried not to get in their way.”

“Hospital bills?”

“I had to be in the hospital a long time after I was born. No one says it, but I know that's why we’re in so much debt. Even if we weren't already the poorest family in town, we would have become it after I was born. Jonathan said that when I was born, Dad was working three jobs and gambling a lot to try and make up for the bills, but the gambiling only lost us more money. That's why the fights started. We were in so much debt, and Mom wanted to leave him.”

“Why didn't she?”

“It was 1971,” Will said, like it was obvious. When he saw it wasn't, he explained, “The no-fault divorse laws were passed in 1969, but in Hawkins it was still really looked down upon for a woman to divorce her husband. No lawyer would defend Mom without a lot of money as payment upfront, so she just didn't do it.”

The next night at the dinner table, Lucas asked his parents all about the no-fault laws that Will had mentioned. Then he asked about why Will was in the hospital as a baby.

“Did Will tell you about that?” his father asked.

“He mentioned that they went into debt because of it,” Lucas said. “I don't get it though. Don't babies usually go home with their moms after they’re born.”

“Most of the time, yes,” his mother nodded. “But in Will’s case, he couldn't. He was born too early. Joyce was only five months pregnant when he was born.”

“Do you know what a miscarage is?” his father asked. Lucas said he did. “Will was almost a miscarage. They had to keep him in the hospital for a few months to make sure he could live on his own before they sent him home.”

“That's scary,” Lucas said.

“It is,” his mother agreed. “But Will is healthy now, and that’s all that matters.”

Lucas agreed then went to bed.

For the next few weeks Lucas would notice Will tugging on his sleeves, and with great pain, he realized that just because he hadn't seen the bruises in a while on his best friend’s skin, didn't mean they weren't there. He took it upon himself to always make Will feel better for at least the hours he saw him, but always had to restart the process of making him feel better the next day.

His promise that he had lived by grew into a list of promises that year.

As long as I live, I will never hurt William Byers again.

As long as I live, I will never turn my back on him.

As long as I live, he will always have a friend.

As long as I live, I will always listen to him.

As long as I live, we will always be together.

As long as I live, I will always hug him at least once a day.

That last one was added when they were nine. The rain from the day before had carried into the next morning, but Lucas could care less. They Byers had missed their Saturday dinner, and every time they called Mrs. Byers said she couldn't talk right now and hung up. Lucas refused to sit and wait for Mrs. Byers to tell them what was going on, and his parents didn't stop him when he hoped onto his bike right after dinner. In fact, his mom prepared him with a backpack for the evening if he ended up staying, a letter from her to Mrs. Byers and A pan of cinnamon rolls. She pulled a rain coat onto him and had him put on a pair of rain boots, and he was on his way to the Byers’s house.

When he got there, Mrs. Byers answered the door. She had darker bags than usual under her eyes, her hair an unkept mess in a bun on the top of her head. She tried to tell him now wasn't a good time, but he wouldn't listen. He stubbornly stood there on the doorstep in the rain until she let him inside and accepted the letter and cinnamon rolls.

“He’s sick right now,” she tried to tell him. He ignored her and ran back to Will’s room, only to find she hadn't been lying to him.

Will was tucked tightly into his bed with a wet washcloth other his forehead, his nose bright red from congestion. Lucas threw caution to the wind and kicked off his shoes, laying down on the bed by his friend’s side. The movement woke him, but he made no protest against his presence.

After getting Mrs. Byers’s reluctant permission to spend the night, Lucas curled up underneath the covers with Will, wrapping him in his arms to supply body heat.

Lucas stayed with the Byers for two rainy July weeks to take care of Will so that Mrs. Byers could focus on Jonathan- who was also sick- and her job. His parents came over every few nights with their brief cases, and he started to piece together why Mr. Byers was nowhere to be seen for the full two weeks.

“My dad left,” was the first coherent thing that Will said to Lucas, confirming his suspicions. It was early in the morning, and he had just woken up, but he jumped into comforting mode right away. The day it happened, Jonathan and Will had spent the entire day building a fort in the forest that they called Castle Byers, and the rain made them sick. 

That was the day Lucas Sinclair decided to add the last promise on his list, and by far the one that seemed the silliest at first glance but really meant the most. Every day, he decided, he had to give Will at least one hug. He had to give his friend some sort of comfort, some stability, some constant in the hurricane his life had become. Will took notice, and returned the gesture, hugging Lucas even when he had forgotten. It wasn't much different from how they used to be, but the hugs, the small acts of physical affection meant something very different now.

They were promises.

Promises from Lucas to always be there. Promises from Will that he would always want Lucas there, and would be there for him when he needed it.

It was them and Mike against the world. The cruel cruel world that they needed each other to survive in.

In fifth grade the three became four, happily adding the new kid, Dustin Henderson, to their party. They played D&D on weekends in the Wheeler’s basement, and made up their own adventures in the edge of the forest between the end of the school day and dinner. They were all best friends, as improbable as that seemed. They were always together.

They built their rules of the party, Dustin’s addition being the first blood rule when he witnessed one too many fights between Mike and Lucas, the “friends don't lie” rule unsurprisingly made by Will. They lived by their rules, with Lucas living also by his promises to Will. Mike acted as a sort of leader, even though they liked to say they were a democracy.

They all relied on each other, and cared deeply for one another. All of their parents were quickly becoming friends too with how much they had to see each other because of their children. They were inseparable.

Things were still bad at school though. They loved their classes, and most of their teachers, and the AV club was their sanctuary, but their party was frequently bullied. Will was bullied the heaviest, the only one the bullies dared to get physical with. The boy that had brought the group together was a constant target, even on days when the others were left alone. He never told them how bad things got with the bullies, but every time one of them did, Mike and Lucas would both end up in the principal's office.

They were still happy though. They were a team.

And then November 6th, 1983 rolled around. They said goodbye for the evening after a ten hour long campaign. His mom was standing on the porch of their house, impatiently tapping her foot as he talked to his friends outside the Wheeler’s house. He hugged Will tightly for the third time that night, an odd feeling in his gut trying to tell him something bad was coming. When they pulled back, Lucas debated kissing Will’s cheek. He hadn't done it in a few years, now knowing the real implications of a kiss, but with Will’s tired, life filled hazel eyes staring up at him like that, it was hard not to. Especially knowing the real implications of a kiss.

He didn't do it though. He just waved goodbye and watched from his bedroom window as Dustin and Will peddled down the road.

He realized the next day that he should have done it.

The search started to find Will, everyone believing he had just gotten lost, but by the third day a body was fished out of the quarry right before his eyes and all hope was lost.

He didn't let himself react in front of his two remaining friends and the weird girl they had let in, but as soon as he was home, he fell into his mother and father’s arms and cried for an hour. They were crying too, and his mother had full intentions of going to see Ms. Joyce before seeing the wreck her son was over it. He didn't actually stop crying the entire night, but after the first hour, he did manage to stop the sobs and head to his bedroom. Erica was eight at the time, but she was still young enough in her own mind to be showing him how much she cared. She hugged him and fell asleep in the same bed, not minding her hair being wet by his tears as he cried himself to sleep.

Then Will was alive. He heard his voice over the radio in the AV club with the others, and Will was alive.

“Mom, Mom! --- It’s like home but it’s so dark- it’s so dark and empty and it’s cold---”

He had never heard Will so scared before in their lives, he had never heard him screaming and crying like that, even after all the things Lonnie Byers had done to him. Hearing it made something in his chest snap, and right away he got on a mission where nothing could distract him. He had to find Will and bring him home, even if he lost his other friends in the process.

Seeing Chief Hopper and Ms. Joyce walking into the hospital was the only relife he got from the terror of that night’s events. Will was in Hop’s arms, still wet and covered in the slime of the Upside Down, his skin just as pale as that of the body pulled out of the quarry. Despite how awful he looked, the irregular rise and fall of his chest through choking coughs was the most beautiful sight in the world to Lucas, because Will was breathing. Unconscious, and broken, but still breathing.

When Will woke up, Lucas ran into the hospital room with Mike and Dustin. For a moment, he forgot they were in a hospital all together. He threw his arms around his friend’s neck at the same time the Mike latched onto him. The feeling of Will being under his arms again almost sent him back into the same crying fit from a few nights before, but Dustin pushing him away to get his own hug in grounded him.

It was impossible to get a moment alone with Will for a long time after that, even when his mother hesitantly let him go back to school. He was constantly surrounded by people, be it his mom, Jonathan and Hop or the party or other adults. They couldn't have their sleepovers on Saturdays anymore. Lucas didn't care though, in fact it made him feel much more secure to know Will was never out of someone’s sight, even if it meant giving up seeing Will after dark. Whenever possible, Will never left his sight, and that made up for something.

Dr. Owens took over Hawkins Lab, and became Will’s doctor for the next year. Every other week, Will would go quiet for a whole day like he used to after his mom and dad got in a fight, and his mom would pick him up early from school to take him to his appointment. He never told them about the visits to the lab, and he very rarely let that week in November slip into conversation. During the times when people would insist talking about it, Will’s eyes would glaze over and Lucas would feel his heart break a little from the expression.

They thought things were getting better. Will had episodes here and there, and would sometimes have to talk to Lucas over the Super-Coms all night when the nightmares got too bad, but they thought he was starting to get better. He was smiling like his old self again, back to his normal amount of quietness instead of the trauma induced silence. When school started up again in September, they realized the exact opposite was happening. The episodes started to happen more and more often, and Lucas found himself drinking a little too much coffee every week to keep himself awake after those long nights up. But Will wasn't acting different on the surface, he was acting like he was getting better when they could now all see he wasn't. As soon as he realized how tired Lucas was, he stopped calling after nightmares, and he played off episodes as him spacing out.

Then Mad Max showed up, and Lucas finally had something, someone, to get his mind off of the whole situation. He felt guilty, and he knew Dustin did too, but they both desperately needed a break and found it in the interesting new girl from California. But even this new possible friend couldn't distract him completely, Mike made sure of that. Even with Mike’s annoyance though, Will seemed to be amused by Lucas and Dustin’s fascination with the red head and somewhat relieved they weren't fussing over him anymore.

“He’s quiet today,” Mike commented as they peaked around the corner of the school building at Will being lead to his mom’s car.

“He’s always quiet,” Lucas sighed. Whatever was said in response, he tuned it out, because he knew whatever Mike had to say, he had already thought.

Before Will could get in the car, Lucas ran over and pushed through the crowd. He  grabbed his wrist to stop him from getting in the car. Will didn't even have to look up to know who it was. Lucas knew Will could recognize his touch quicker than he could recognize his own name. Just like Luas could recognize his touch quicker than he could recognize his own name.

“You’d tell me if it got worse, right?” Lucas asked in a careful whisper.

Will looked up at him, eyes as gentle and kind as ever. He didn't smile, but that was to be expected on an appointment day. He did, however, pull his arms up a bit so that Lucas was now holding his hand. Will squeezed the tips of his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, pushed himself onto his toes to kiss Lucas’s cheek.

“Go have fun, okay?” Will whispered. Giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go and getting into his mom’s car. Lucas watched them pull out of the parking lot, his heart beating in his ears.

So this was how Will felt when Lucas did that.

If he thought seeing Will’s fake dead body, and his real dying body were scary experiences, then this sight of his best friend was absolutely terrifying.

It had only been two days since he last saw Will in a temporary catatonic state on the field outside their school. Max finally believed him about the events of the years prior, Steve had become their babysitter, and Jonathan and Nancy had reappeared from their missing state. Things should have been easier now, they had help now. But the moment they pulled into the Byers’s driveway, Mike made them all aware of what exactly had transpired since Will’s last episode in the field, and now nothing was easy at all.

At first, Lucas felt just how Max must have when he sat her down in the back room of the arcade. The information made sense, it fit, but he couldn't believe it. Will Byers, his Will Byers, had been burned alive twice, had a seizure, gradually forgot everything he knew and led dozens of men to their deaths. Mike explained how Will’s behavior changed over the two nights, how at first they thought this could be a good thing they could use to their advantage, but they soon realized it had infected and taken over Will completely. The Mind Flayer was what Dustin named it.

Lucas listened in a disbelieving shock as Mike described in detail how they figured out Will was gone. How the Mind Flayer had to guess who Joyce was, proving that Mike was right and Will wasn't there anymore. How Will thrashed against Mike and the hospital bed, screaming over and over again that he was lying while Joyce administered the same tranquilizer they used when Will was burned alive. He tried to push the images out of his mind, but the scene forcibly danced behind his eyelids in something more horrific than any scary movie he had ever seen.

He waited outside the room with everyone else while they woke Will up. His stomach lurched when the screaming and thrashing came through the walls, and his brain refused to register it as Will’s voice. When the screaming went quiet, he peeked through the peephole at the makeshift room.

Will was tied to the chair, slumped forward slightly. The bright lights that shone directly onto his face bleached out his skin. His eyes were wide, and even from the distance, Lucas could see how the irises were a dark reddish brown instead of the hazel he always found so endearing. He could sense it, just as Ms. Joyce, Jonathan, Mike and Hop must, that Will wasn't completely gone. He was still in there, and Lucas had to cover his mouth at the thought that Will was trapped in his own mind, seeing, hearing and feeling everything without being able to do anything about it.

“Let me go,” the Mind Flayer croaked out with Will’s voice after the stories that were trying to jog his memories came to a stop.

Lucas couldn't stand it anymore. He gently knocked on the door to the makeshift room, and Hop carefully let him in. Will didn't look up when he walked close, eyes that weren't his own fixed in the distance on nothing in particular. With a hand on his friend’s shoulder, Lucas took Mike’s place crouched beside Will. He was told by Hopper not to touch him, to keep a distance, but it was so hard when Will was right there. Jonathan gave a small nod, eyes deep in that now signature Byers’s Exhaustion, and Lucas took a deep breath.

“I should have stayed with you and let Max check my wing of the school,” Lucas said in a breath. “Maybe if I did, it wouldn't have gotten you. If I had you spend the night with me last year, maybe the Demogorgon wouldn't have got you. But I’m staying with you now. You’re staying with me, and nothing else is getting you. I don't have a memory to share like everyone else, there are too many to pick from and none of them would be good enough right now. All I have is being here”

Will didn't react in any way, but Ms. Joyce’s pat on his shoulder reassured him to continue.

What Lucas did next almost sent the other in the room into a panic. Hop and Jonathan reached for him. Joyce yelped his name. Mike flinched back. None of their actions stopped him though as he leaned forward and placed his hand on the back of the chair to steady himself.

Hugging had always been Will’s “love language”, as his mother called it. He expressed so many emotions and thoughts through every hug, every pressing of chests together and arms tucked around each other’s backs. While he participated in the love language and made one of his promises based around it, Lucas’s personal love language he had gotten from his parents. Kisses. Kisses to the head, or temple, or cheek, or top of the head. Sometimes kisses were peppered into hugs by being placed on shoulders, ears and the nape of the neck. He had sprinkled in these kisses over the years, and now seemed to be the perfect time for one.

His lips lingered on Will’s cheek longer than they ever had before. The kiss moved to between the smaller boy’s cheek bone and eye, then to his temple, then back to his cheek. He reached up and placed a hand on Will’s other cheek to hold him closer. His skin was so cold under Lucas’s palm and lips, but he took it in stride and continued the kiss. He pushed everything that had been growing in him over the years into the kiss, wishing for a flash of a moment that he could kiss Will on the lips. That would be wrong at the moment, he knew, so the thought left just as fast as it had come. When he went in for that kiss, that special one, he wanted Will to be able to stop him, or return it, or take it at his own pace.

Lucas finally pulled back and he was astonished at his self control when he didn't jump back. Will turned his head and stared Lucas in the eyes like he was truly seeing him, truly knowing him. At some point his other hand had cupped the cheek he had just kissed so that he was holding Will’s face completely in his hands, allowing him to stare right back.

The tapping started, and Lucas couldn't help but smile. He had gotten through. Together, they had all broken down the barriers the Mind Flayer put up and got though, and his kiss had been what sealed the deal.

Before leaving to help with translating the message Will was tapping out to them, Lucas placed another long kiss on Will’s forehead. As he walked out the others continued telling stories to keep Will there as long as they could. In the end, before the phone rang and gave away their location, they got two full words scribbled on the paper.

“Close gate.”

The plan was risky and terrifying, even with El back and Will’s instruction of how to put an end to it all. They all knew that one second of miscalculation and all of Hawkins would be dead, or Will would be dead with the Demodogs.

Lucas refused to think about the pain Will was in at that very moment and focused on the mission in front of him. They were going to win, they had to. And when they did, they would have El back, and Max and Steve as their new, real friends. The best part he kept tucked away in his heart, right under his shirt like a secret of his own. As they burned the heart of the underground system, surely only causing Will more pain, Lucas revised his promises.

As long as we live, no one and nothing will hurt William Byers again without my avenging it. (I'm not a kid anymore, I know I can't stop things from hurting him, but I can make sure they think twice before doing it again).

As long as we live, I will never turn my back on him. 

As long as we live, he will always have me. (I think I count as more than a friend now. Plus “a friend” is too vague).

As long as we live, I will always be there for him. (He’s never been good with words, so there might not always be something to listen to, but I will always be there in any way he needs me just like he's always done for me).

As long as we live, we will always be together.

As long as we live, I will always kiss him at least once a day (with his permission of course).

They got back to the Byers’s house after Ms. Joyce but before Hop, so they considered that somewhat of a win. The second they were through the door though, Ms. Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy were bombarding them with questions on Billy’s unconscious body on the floor and the Demodog in the freezer.

Ms. Joyce paused her lecturing of the others to tell Lucas Will was in the bath at the moment and would be sleeping in her room -the only room untouched by the mess. Lucas nodded and paused for a moment to hug her tightly. He waited outside the bathroom, leaning on the wall and listening for any possible sounds of distress from inside. None came, and by the end of the hour he could hear as the bath started to drain. Sounds of Will’s stumbling and grabbing onto different surfaces for support came. The after effects of heat exhaustion, the thrashing and the tranquilizers was sure to be the cause of the stumbing, but Lucas still stayed on guard just in case.

The lock to the bathroom clicked, and the door opened with a creak, queuing Lucas to look up from where he had been picking dirt from under his nails. At first Will didn't look up, not noticing that there was someone else in the hallway with him. He was holding himself up successfully, but it required him pressing his entire body weight on the handle of the bathroom door, and his head was dipped like he was still struggling to find balance. Slowly, Lucas took hold of Will’s shoulder to help him stand fully, and Will looked up.

Lucas’s breath caught in joy when he realized he was looking into hazel eyes and a timid expression. Then his breath caught in fear when Will swayed and fell forward into his arms. Lucas caught him, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest. Jonathan had warned him of the spot where a hot poker was jabbed into Will’s left side, and he was extra careful not to touch it as he lifted him up.

“I can walk,” Will tried to protest, voice scratchy, hoarse and quiet.

“Not without falling over,” Lucas mumbled back. “You’re too skinny, you know that? I shouldn't be able to pick you up so easily.”

“Maybe you’re just strong,” Will shrugged then clenched his teeth. The movement had tugged at the gauze wrapped over his burn, but besides the tightness of his jaw he didn't show any other signs of how the movement had hurt.

Lucas gave him a disbelieving glance and carried him to his mom’s bedroom as if it were routine, which it wasn't. Lucas crawled under the fluffy comforter with Will still in his arms. He didn't let go, not for a second.

“Thank you,” Will whistered against his shoulder after a few minutes of silence. Lucas pulled him impossibly closer as a response, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Will’s voice came out a croak that Lucas quickly hushed. He shook his head against Lucas’s shoulder but made no attempts at apologizing again. His hands were gripping the front of Lucas’s shirt so tightly that the fabric pulled slightly at his back, and his forehead was pressed tightly into the crook of his neck. They fit together so easily like this, making Lucas more sure than ever that this was how it was meant to be. It was meant to be them.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Lucas asked. Will nodded. “I need you so much, and it scares me.”

Will tried to look up at him, but Lucas gently kept him in place by curling his fingers in his hair. He took a deep breath, waiting a few heart beats before continuing, “I think I’ve known from the start that I need you, but it only started to scare me last year. When you were there, in that place, I realized how badly I need you and it was terrifying because we thought you were dead, then when we knew you were alive we also knew you could die at any moment. I promised myself a long time ago that I would be with you as long as I lived, because it never occured to me that I could lose you like that. Then today, when I saw you in that chair, I almost lost it. You were right in front of me, and you were right there, but you were gone too.”

“You helped get me back,” Will whispered, pressing his head closer.

“Because I couldn't stand the idea of losing you again,” Lucas almost laughed. “I can't lose you again. I need you here with me.”

“I need you too,” all of Lucas’s tensed muscles relaxed at the affirmation that he wasn't the only one. He kissed the top of Will’s head, and finally let Will look up at him. Hazel filled his vision, and he wanted nothing more than to see only that hazel for the rest of his life.

Lucas leaned forward, stopping just a centimeter from Will’s lips to allow Will to close the gap or pull back. Will closed the gap.

This kiss was short and chaste, and before he could take in WIll’s reaction his head was back on his shoulder, but a phantom warmth lingered. He hugged Will just a bit tighter and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off the moment Will’s breathing evened into the pattern of sleep.

[numba99]

Fatal Attraction - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary:When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 4k whew my longest work ever I think (there are probably some typos towards the end forgive me!!!)

Song: I wanna be yours // Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: blood, stitches (please ignore if its not medically accurate I tried y’all), smut

Your eyes fluttered open as warm morning sunlight entered the room. With each slow blink, details from last night came back to you. For a few moments you were certain it wasn’t all just a dream, but the bruises on your knuckles told you it was very real.

You looked down at yourself, you were in the pajamas you had packed, but you had no memory of putting them on. You peeked inside your shirt, seeing your bra was still on. Mika must have got you into your pjs because you would have never left your bra on to sleep, no matter how exhausted you were. You thought it was sweet, though, he could have been a creep and stolen a look at you while you were passed out, but he didn’t. He really was a criminal with morals.

Speaking of your favorite criminal, you rolled over, happy to find him still in bed with you. He was closer to the other edge of the bed, which in a king-sized bed felt like a mile away. His back was to you, allowing you to sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Morning,” he mumbled softly. His eyes were still closed, but he smiled when you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddled against him. He was so warm and solid, curing the little chill you always seemed to feel in the morning, no matter the temperature outside. You couldn’t imagine anything that would be worth leaving this bed for.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Mika said, as if he could read your thoughts. He turned towards you, his eyes somehow even more beautiful with a hint of sleepiness in them.

“Who says we can’t?” you asked with a playful grin.

Mika chuckled, “Just about everyone who buys my product.” You thought it was interesting the way he spoke about what he did. It was all very professional, like he was working in a legitimate business. You didn’t mean that in a way to belittle what he did, clearly he did well for himself and you really didn’t have a problem with it. You wondered, though, if it was a show for you, like he thought you were more comfortable hearing “product” rather “drugs.” 

“Can they wait five more minutes?” you asked, not ready to leave this little slice of heaven just yet.

“Of course they can,” Mike replied, kissing your forehead.

“I have to say,” you began, absentmindedly running your finger over his arm, “I was a bit surprised about last night.”

“I’m glad I didn’t freak you out too much with Thomas. I was nervous you’d flip out on me,” Mika replied, watching how you touched him. He loved how delicately your hand moved along his toned forearm.

“No not that... well yeah I guess that surprised me too,” you laughed lightly. That was an understatement, but not what you were thinking of. “I mean the window thing. Not exactly what I would expect from a guy that wants to take things slow.”

Mika shrugged, “It was just the way you handled yourself, I don’t know, it got to me I guess. You're not very easy to resist, y/n.”

You were sure his words made your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “Guess it’s good you live so far up, or else some people would have gotten a good show,” you joked.

“I’d never let anyone else see you like that,” Mika said, laughing, though there was an edge of seriousness in his voice. You guess Mika was not a man that liked to share.

You laid together for a little while longer, but hunger got the best of you both eventually. You meandered out to the kitchen, thinking you would just be having some cereal or something. You should have known by now that Mika was not just a cereal type of guy.

“A chef?” you asked, not sure why you were even shocked. He was in the kitchen, churning out a little breakfast spread for the two of you. 

“I thought you’d be hungry after last night,” Mika replied. Your stomach growled as if to agree with him. You loaded your play with pancakes, eggs, and some fruit for good measure before settling down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

“Do you mind if Chris joins us?” Mika asked. You shook your head, your mouth was too full to reply verbally. 

At first you were sure Chris didn’t like you, but you think he was just very protective of Mika, which you appreciated. You guessed he thought you either just wanted him for his money, or got yourself into something that was way above your head. The former couldn’t be further from the truth and the latter, well, maybe there was a hint of truth to that. You didn’t know exactly what this lifestyle would entail, but you were prepared to do whatever it takes to keep up. You weren’t about to become a liability to Mika. With the look of approval you caught from Chris last night after handling Thomas, you think he was finally starting to see that too.

Chris came in form the elevator a few moments later, greeting you with a reserved smile, but a smile nonetheless. That was progress in your book. “We still on for tonight?” he asked as he filled his plate with eggs.

“Yeah, I’ve texted the guys to be ready at our normal spot at midnight,” Mika replied.

“What’s tonight?” you asked, not following the conversation.

“We’ve got a shipment coming in,” Mika explained, “Nothing big, really. It’s more of a decoy if anything. Dimitri’s trying to figure out where we import from so he can hijack the big one we having coming in soon.”

“Can I come?” The both shook their heads immediately.

“This isn’t like last night,” Mika replied slowly. You could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Last night was secure. These things are... harder to plan for. Things can... go south fast. I don’t want you in the middle of that.” No matter how heavily he sugarcoated it, you knew he was saying there was chance he could get seriously hurt tonight, or worse. 

“You could die,” you heard yourself say. You didn’t want to sound scared or like you couldn’t handle this. Mika didn’t need another thing to worry about, and a small part of you was scared that if he thought this was going to freak you out too much he’d break things off.

“Please don’t worry, y/n,” Mika insisted, “I’ve done these countless times and I’m still here. Hell, this one is probably the safest one we’ve done in a while because we are anticipating Dimitri watching. We’ll be ready for him and any of the shit he pulls.”

Chris slung his arm around Mika’s shoulder and added, “I’d never let anything happen to Mika, I promise.” You gave them your bravest smile. It did make you feel better to hear that, but still you couldn’t complete ignore the nerves in your stomach.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

“Isn't tonight your normal night to work a shift at the club?” Mika asked. You wondered if he planned it that way. He was right though, you were supposed to work tonight. You had almost completely forgotten about Rick’s shitty club; it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Ugh, yeah a do,” you groaned, “That place fucking sucks.” 

“Do you wanna quit?” Mika asked.

“I would love too.”

“So do it,” Mika replied casually, “You don’t need to work, I’ve got you covered.”

“Mika, I can’t, I don’t wanna mooch of you. It’s not fair,” you replied.

“You're not mooching, I want to do it,” Mika countered, “But if you want to work, I definitely support it. I’ll help you find a different job even. I just... I don’t really like the way other men look at you when you dance if I’m honest.” Yeah, he definitely didn’t like to share. You thought it was hot, though, how he spoke with such seriousness.

“Okay deal,” you replied, “I’ll work my final shift tonight and then look for something new. God it will be so nice to be able to tell off Rick once and for all.”

Chris let out a laugh, “Kinda wish I could see that.” You smiled, glad that he really seemed to be warming up to you.

“So I gotta ask,” you shifted the topic, “How did you to meet?” Mika and Chris exchanged a glance as if sharing a silent exchange of who wants to tell the story this time?

Apparently it was Chris’s turn. “Guess it’s not so crazy. I used to live with my family up in Massachusetts, but we didn’t get along well I guess you could say. My parents put a lot of pressure on me to excel in everything. They even wanted me to be a pro hockey player, I mean can you imagine?” Chris and Mika chucked before Chris continued, “Anyways, when I told them that isn’t what I wanted they basically kicked me out and cut me off. I moved to New York and started selling to get by. And that’s when I met Mika.”

“My dad used to have me scout guys,” Mika picked up the story, “Trying to figure out who we could recruit to work for us. I just clicked with Chris unlike I have with anyone else. He's one of the few people I trust completely.” Chris smiled bashfully at Mika’s words. You could tell they meant a lot to each other and you were happy Mika had such a great friend.

“I’m glad you have each other,” you replied. Specifically glad that Mika had Chris. It would make you nervous (well more nervous than you already are) for Mika to be out doing this without someone to have his back. Especially someone like Chris who, the more time you spent, with the more you were convinced he could wrestle a grizzly bear.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. Mika was extremely calm for someone about to go out and break the law while being watched by some lunatic mobster. You spent much of your time laid beside him, his hand lazily tracing lines over your body as he made phone calls to the other guys finalizing the details. You wished you could get in his head and see if he actually had any fear, or if he was just being brave so you wouldn’t freak out.

Eventually, it came time for you both to go to your respective jobs. Hopefully it would only be your final time doing it. “Hey, don’t look so scared,” Mika said softly, tucking his finger under your chin and pushing it up so you had to look at him. “Everything gonna be okay, I promise. By the time you’re done with your shift at the club I’ll be home. You won't even have time to miss me.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he spoke to you. It filled you with such a sweet warmth and comfort. “I’ll be racing you back,” you teased, trying to show him you weren’t as nervous as you truly were.

“I know you will be,” Mika smirked, “So on the off chance you beat me to it, or if you need anything at all while I’m out, Lias is gonna be. We always have one person stay back in case- just for precaution. If you need anything call him.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Mika gave you a peck on the lips and you returned it, which ended up in full blown making out in his living room. 

“Jesus there are plenty rooms in this apartment you guys need to find one,” a voice quipped. Lias had let himself in. You and Mika both rolled your eyes and laughed. “Chris and the guys are waiting for you in the car downstairs.”

“Thanks Lias. Make sure you keep your phone on you if we need anything,” Mika turned to you and kissed your forehead before saying, “I’ll see you soon.” You gave your bravest smile as a goodbye and watched him disappear into the elevator. You wanted to go out with him so you could spend as much time with him as possible, but Mika was concerned about being seen with you. As far as he knew, Dimitri didn't know where he lived, but he still didn’t wanna risk it if he was watching.

So after ten minutes passed, you set off to the club one last time. Despite your nerves there was a go giddy excitement coursing through your veins. There were so many times you fantasized about telling Rick off and now you were finally going to be able to do it.

That was all you thought about during your shift. Well that and Mika, but you were trying to not make yourself a nervous wreck and that was the best distraction. It definitely wasn’t your best night in terms of tips but you really couldn’t give less of a fuck. It wasn’t about the money. You were just there to fill the time. Each song brought you closer to giving Rick what he deserves. Each song brought you closer to Mika.

And finally it was time. You eagerly changed back into your street clothes, hugging the girls you worked with goodbye. They didn’t ask questions about why you were quitting. That was best part of this profession, the girls you worked with understood life could be... complicated. You were glad you didn’t have to come up with a lie.

“I’d like to talk to you, Rick,” you stated, shutting the door to his office behind you. It was less office and more closet he turned into a makeshift office to feed his sense of self importance.

Rick smiled a sleazy smile, “Finally gonna take me up on that offer to fu-”

“Oh would you shut the fuck up,” you snapped, stunning him into a brief silence.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Rick fired back. He could be loud, but you were scared of him. He was coward and he wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Even if he did, you knew Mika would crush him in a second if he heard.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Because I quit,” you began, “You are never going to lay one of your disgusting fucking fingers on me again. Or any of these girls for that matter. None of them want to fuck you, they're just to scared to tell you off because you’re their gross, manipulative boss.”

“Why don’t you j-”

“I’m not fucking finished,” you cut him off, “If I hear you even so much as make one creepy comment towards any of these girls I promise you it will be the last thing you ever do. Got it?” You hadn’t realized you were getting closer to him as you spoke until you were right in his face. You never saw him look so afraid. It felt good.

“Got it,” he gulped.

“Great,” you flashed a mean-spirited smile, “Don’t even bother paying me for the shift tonight. I don’t need your money.” With that you left, feeling on top of the fucking world. You almost forgot about what Mika was out doing. Almost. 

Once the high of quitting wore off, you were practically running home. Had you not been so caught up in wanting to see Mika so badly, you may have thought more about how you were already referring to Mika’s place as “home” even though you haven’t even moved in. That didn’t matter right now, you just wanted to see his face.

You rushed into the apartment, nerves creeping in as you noted how quiet it was. You found Lias in the living room where you left him. Alone.

“They’re not back yet?” you asked, holding out hope Mika had slipped away to the bathroom.

“No, um, should be here soon,” Lias told you, though there was something off in his voice. He knew something he wasn’t telling you.

“Lias... did something happen?” Your heart was pounding your ears.

“It’s nothing really everything is-”

“Lias fucking tell me what happened,” you snapped. You couldn’t bare another moment in suspense. 

“There was a fight,” Lias relented, “Not Dimitri’s people, but they were attacked.” Before you could ask what he meant by that, the elevator doors lid open. Chris walked in with his arm around Mika, who was bleeding down his face from his forehead.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. You knew head wounds bled more than other wounds even if they weren’t that bad, but the amount of blood dripping down his face was startling. 

“It’s not as bad it looks,” Mika insisted. You rush over to him as Chris sat him down at on one of the stools in the kitchen.

“Seriously, you should see the other guy,” Chris added with a smirk, “Poor guy won’t be getting a date any time soon.” Mika and Chris had a laugh, as if Mika wasn’t still currently bleeding. You inspected the gash above his eyebrow, a little less than an inch long. You ran a finger over the skin around it and Mika winced.

“This is gonna need stitches,” you stated, getting a close a look as possible. It didn’t appear to go down to the bone, thank god.

“We can’t go to a hospital,” Mika told you, “Hospitals take names and ask questions.”

“Have you got a first aid kit?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “Should be a fully stocked one in the closet upstairs.”

“Grab it and bring it to the bathroom. Lias can you get some towels, please? Either dark ones or old ones. This will stain.” You held out your hand, which Mika took, but not without a quizzical look. You led him to the bathroom.

“Do you know how to do stitches?” Mika asked as you sat him down at the toilet. You turned on the tap, letting it run warm.

“I was studying to be a nurse before I left college,” you explained. By that time Lias had dropped off some black towels. You soaked one, gently removing the blood that had dripped down his neck.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Mika asked, eyeing you with wonderment. You were trying to focus on wiping the blood around to wound off without pulling it open more, but his eyes on you clouded your thoughts.

“Long division,” you joked, mostly for yourself. You needed to lighten the mood. Once you got enough of the blood off, you instructed Mika to press the towel against his head to prevent anymore from coming out. Just then, Chris brought in the first aid kit.

“Need any help in here?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” you replied, your eyes scanning the interior of kit. You were relieved that it had everything you needed. Chris said something you didn’t really catch as you pulled out the disinfectant. You poured it on to the gauze and handed it to Mika. “Put this over the cut. It’s gonna sting, but it’s gotta get clean.” 

Mika followed your instruction without question, though he did wince when the gauze touched his skin. “Jesus this hurt more than the actual cut.”

“Sorry,” you replied empathically. 

“Not your fault baby,” he replied, his free hand finding the back of your thigh and rubbing it lightly. You ignored how it made your stomach flip as you tried to thread the need. It took you three tries.

“Try to hold still,” you said quietly as you positioned yourself over him. Your hands were shaking slightly, it had been awhile since you had done this. After a deep breath you were able to proceed, and you were surprised how easily it came back to you. Mika was an amazing patient, only a few little twitches of a frown as the needle went through his skin and the sutures closed up the wound.

“All done,” you said, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you're holding. You took a step back to admire your work. You were surprised at how good they looked. 

Mika stood up and checked himself in the mirror. “Wow, you’re amazing, you know that right?” he marveled at you. It made your knees weak.

“You were the bravest patient I ever had,” you told him. He didn't need to know your only other patients included little kids at summer camps.

“Hope you don’t mind how they make me look,” Mika teased, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I think it suits you,” you replied. It was weirdly hot, in a way. “Plus, I’ve always loved a scar on a man.” You gently thumbed his forehead, just a few inches above the wound.

Mika’s eyes clouded over lightly. At first you couldn't quite place it, but when his lips found your neck you realized it was lust. “How can I repay you?” he asked in a tone that told you he already had an idea.

You slipped your hand under his jaw, making him look at you. You took a second to admire the look in his eyes, before whispering. “Like this.” Your lips were on his in an instant. You kissed each other hungrily. Your hands tangled through his hair while his found your ass. He gave you a slight squeeze and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him. 

He was able to carry you effortlessly to his bedroom without ever losing contact with your lips. You fell into the clouds of his bed sheets gently, as Mika admired you from above. As much as his stare intoxicate you, you needed him. You reached up, pulling him on top of you.

Clothes feel off between kisses and gentle moans. Mika made it clear the other night that he was well-versed in foreplay activities, but right now you just wanted him. Nothing besides him inside you would satisfy the ache you felt between your legs.

Mika sensed this, reaching down to run his finger through you folds. He made sure you were wet enough for him and you were more than certain you were. Though when he removed the last of his clothes, there was a sliver of doubt in you. He was big, both long and thick.

“We’ll start slow,” Mika smirked, noting the look in your eye when you saw him. You didn’t have time to be embarrassed about being caught staring, he was already getting himself ready to push into you.

It didn't happen with you fistfuls of sheets and some gasps, but he managed to get himself all the way inside you. Mika was normally very composed, but you could see his willpower was crumbling as he felt your tightness around him.

Mika kept yo his word, moving slowing until you both adjusted to the feeling of the other. It didn’t take too long before he was able to move with more speed and strength. He felt unbelievably good inside you; you never felt so full in your life. His strokes were long but fast. It was the perfect mix of needy and passionate. He’d been thinking about this moment as long as you had.

Your orgasm approached surprisingly quickly. You clawed at Mika’s back, feeling the pleasure build to a near unbearable level.

“Fuck, Mika,” you gasped when you couldn’t hold on any longer. The sweet warm sensation of bliss filled you completely. You moaned into Mika’s neck as he kept going until he came along with you. The sounds he made were music to your ears.

Mika slowed up and let you both ride out the last few moments of your highs. He was panting lightly by the time he fell beside you on the bed. He had you in his arms within seconds.

“I guess neither of us understand the concept of slow,” you teased.

Mika chuckled, kissed the top of your head, “You get me. That’s why you’re my girl. Forever.”

[morkhan]

Will Byers is Gay: The Evidence So Far

With the release of Stranger Things 3, there has been a lot of discussion kicked up about the character of Will Byers and his sexuality (or lack thereof). I've seen a lot of takes about what "it's not my fault you don't like girls" was intended to mean, many of which seem to take it in isolation, so I wanted to make a post putting it into what I think is its proper context; not an isolated incident, but the latest carriage in veritable train of queer themed language and imagery that has followed Will Byers since episode one of season one, and before that. You ready? Alright, let's go.

Season Zero: the Montauk Files

Before Stranger Things became Stranger Things, it was called Montauk. Like many would-be show makers, the Duffer Bros put together a "show bible" describing the premise, setting, tone, and characters of the show they intended to make. Like many shows, a lot of these ideas changed or were lost on their way to the screen, but it's always worth looking into their original concepts. Here is their description of Will Byers in the Montauk show bible:

Obviously, the major whammy there is in the first line "sexual identity issues." But there are some other interesting notes, like his "colorful clothes" that you might want to keep a lookout for on your next rewatch. Now, onto...

Season 1

The thing to pay attention to regarding Will in season 1 is in the language used to refer to him when he is not present (which he isn't for most of the season).

Episode 1: the subject of bullying comes up right away in the conversation between Joyce and Hopper. "The kids, they're mean. They laugh at him, laugh at his clothes, call him names." "What's wrong with his clothes?" "I don't know!" This harkens back to the Montauk show bible, but it's arguable, since it's never made clear what about his clothes draws ire.

She also mentions that he is "sensitive," "not like most," and that his dad said he was "queer" and called him a "fag." Hopper asks "is he?" to which she replies "He's missing is what he is!"

Episode 3: Troy says he's not missing, he's dead. "Probably killed by some other queer."

Episode 4: Troy, again "Will's in fairyland, flying around with all the other little fairies, all happy and gay."

Sensitive, queer, fag, fairy, and gay are all used to describe Will in season 1, but perhaps more notable is the fact that they aren't used to describe anyone else. If the show were truly period accurate, let's be real; the whole party would've been called queers on a pretty regular basis, because "queer" doubled as a generic insult back then. But in season 1, these words are only ever used in relation to Will, with one exception; in episode 6, Steve says to Will's brother, "I used to think you were queer." So it's not even an active accusation in that moment; it's used in the negative.

Hell, Troy walked up to Lucas mockingly proposing to Mike and proclaiming his love for him, and he still didn't call them queers. That language is reserved for Will.

Now granted, most of these are used as insults by characters who don't like Will, but still; as a writer, if you want your audience to remember something, repetition is an excellent way to embed it in their minds. There's a reason for the specificity of language surrounding Will, and a reason that language keeps coming up over and over and over again.

Season 2

Season 2 retires much of the homophobic language used to insult Will, replacing it with "Zombie Boy." The only homophobic language used in season 2 is the word "faggot," used by Billy's father to refer to Billy, who expresses a clear interest in women (and an arguable interest in one particular man, but that's the subject of another post).

Still, there is an arguable bit of queer theming in Will's conversation with Jonathan regarding the benefits of being a "freak" and how normal people never accomplish anything. Jonathan even invokes bisexual icon David Bowie to make Will feel better about his "freakishness."

The clearest piece of queer theming for Will in season 2 comes in episode 8, in this beautiful speech from Joyce to Possessed Will:

"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons, do you remember that? It was 120 colors. And all your friends got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors. And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie. It was YOUR spaceship; a RAINBOW Ship, that's what you called it. And you, you must have used every color in the box. I took that with me to Melvald's, and I put it up. I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this.' And you were so embarrassed, but I was so proud. I was so, so proud."

This is one of the most powerful memories of her son that Joyce has, an image so strong and distinct that she uses it to invoke his true identity against the monster that is slowly subsuming him. She notes very specifically that it's not something he copied, but something that came entirely from Will himself, an image that she felt represented him so perfectly that she took it with her to work and proudly touted it as his to everyone she knew. The Rainbow Ship is Joyce's picture of her son's very heart, and surely I don't need to explain to you how powerful a piece of queer imagery the rainbow is.

Some subtextual stuff; in episode 9, when the girl asks Will to dance, he stammers "I... I don't..." and only goes to dance with her when Mike literally pushes him towards her.

During the final montage, the scene cuts to different characters in time with appropriate lines from the song: "every move you make" cuts to Mike and El (as he is teaching her to dance), "every vow you break" cuts to Nancy dancing with Dustin (as she technically cheated on Steve with Jonathan), "I'll be watching you" cuts to Lucas dancing with Max (as she has playfully called him 'stalker' all season). What line cuts to Will? "Every smile you fake," specifically on the word fake, while Will dances with a girl wearing this expression:

That is not a real smile, that is not a comfortable boy, and that is not an accident; Noah Schnapp is one of the best actors in the entire show, and of the young boys, he is the one the Duffers trust most to do dramatic heavy lifting.

Do you want it to be a little more explicit? Okay, here is that scene in the script:

I mean, that pretty much speaks for itself. It's less explicit in the actual show, but it's still there, you know?

Season 3

And now, the biggest and most explicit thing to date; The Scene. I mean, you could discuss the obvious subtext in the simple fact that Will is the only male main character who has yet to find a girlfriend or express any interest in girls whatsoever, but that pales in comparison to The Scene.

The setup for The Scene is pretty simple; after declaring "a day free of girls" in order to get his friends to run the D&D campaign he's probably spent a significant amount of time creating, his friends have blown him off to continue bemoaning their girl troubles, so Will has decided to leave. Mike, realizing too late that he has genuinely upset his friend, chases after him to try and get him to come back.

A back-and-forth argument ensues, where Will accuses Mike of ruining the party and abandoning his friends in favor of girls, and Mike, in the heat of the moment, responds with "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" After which, everything stops. There is a full second of silence, and a close up on Noah Schnapp's face so you can take in his reaction.

There is a lot to unpack here. Now, acting is up to interpretation to a degree, but to me, that expression conveys two primary emotions; shock, and betrayal. That face says "how could you?" Because here's the thing; regardless of what Mike does or doesn't know about Will's sexuality, Mike knows for a fact that Will has been called a queer all his life by everyone from his school bullies to his own fucking dirtbag father. By invoking even the specter of that, Mike has crossed a fucking line, and he knows it. And we know he knows it, because he immediately backtracks and tries to mitigate the damage. But it's too late. The damage has been done.

I also think there is a tinge of fear in that image. Just a moment of soul raking panic that pretty much every closeted queer person knows intimately. It's very brief. But I think it's there, if you look.

This scene sends Will into an emotional tailspin that culminates in him tearing down the literal last bastion of his childhood in a fit of sorrow and rage. His innocence has been destroyed. He cannot regain what he has lost, and he can never go back to the way things were before. This is the emotional climax of his arc for season three. It's a powerful one-- shame it comes in the third of eight episodes, but that's neither here nor there.

And that's pretty much it for now. Any one of these things taken in isolation could be very easily dismissed, but here's the thing; they aren't isolated incidents. They are part of a clear and consistent pattern, one that goes all the way back to the show's inception, before even one minute of footage was filmed. And this pattern points to one very obvious conclusion; the Duffer Brothers have always intended, and continue to intend, for Will Byers to be gay.

Now, for the obvious question; why haven't they made it explicit yet?

The answer is as unfortunate as it is obvious; I don't know.

It's entirely possible that there is some external force that the Duffers have to answer to that is preventing them from actively pursuing this particular storyline. This happens all the time in Hollywood, and it could be anything from Netflix to Noah Schnapp's parents to Noah Schnapp himself just being uncomfortable with it. Many are the creators who dream Big Gay Dreams only to run into the horrors of our Forced Hetero Reality. If the Duffers ultimately submit to these pressures, I hope you won't be too hard on them. This shit is harder than you think to get to the screen sometimes.

But it's also possible that they just aren't ready for it yet. That they have been saving this for a future storyline, that they just want their characters (and the actors) to get a little older before they pursue this particular storyline explicitly, but they've been busily laying groundwork for it so that anyone paying attention will know it's coming.

I don't know. Only time will tell for sure.

For now, I can tell you this; I see a great deal of evidence that the Duffers still intend for Will to be gay, and precisely zero that they have changed their minds.

I hope that holds true.