#he went “mmm as a straight man i dont agree.' and immediately dropped it

[whynotimtired]

I don't want to be mean but you all sound batshit when you try to convince milkvans byler is real by talking about pure subtext and color theory and "Mike was checking Will out in this scene!!!" there's CLEAR plausible deniability in your own interpretation of someone's acting. The duffers intentionally kept it all vague enough that most people wouldn't figure it out until they get the chance to shove it into people's faces and if the majority of people look at the scene you're analyzing and go "aww they're finally friends again yay" and you go "Mike was blatantly checking wills ass out in the beginning" when...he was taking a breath to settle and prepare to reconcile with someone he's been "off" with for a year... you end up sounding a little insane. Those types of takes are subjective, and you can make a funny video with zooms implying that that's what he was doing but actively trying to convince someone your headcannon is canon will almost always make you sound deranged.

There's a reason you don't go up to milkvans and go "b-but blue meets yellow in the west" and start talking about the intricacies of making film and how everything is on purpose, that stuff isn't for normies. Analysts love that shit but to someone who just watches the show for fun they hear you say all that and go "you're reaching" because you took someone who is at a zero and shoved them into a thousand without showing them why you ACTUALLY ship byler and just tried to prove that it's real

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #367

Having learned her lesson about giving Rachel a heads up about climbing up to her window after getting violently attacked by a hairbrush and nearly getting the cops called on her when she stuck her head inside the first time, Santana chilled near the dark corner of Rachel’s house, waiting for the return text that would allow her to start her ascent. As she waited, she leaned back against the house, smiling absently to herself as she listened to Barbra Streisand filter down from Rachel’s room. As much as she would have complained to anyone else, it was classic Rachel - and, yeah, she liked Rachel, classic edition included.

Having just pulled her phone out to check it again, Santana froze when the back door slid open.

“As much as I’d love to ask you what you are doing loitering in our backyard,” LeRoy Berry’s voice made Santana jump, and she sloooowly turned around, staring at him, “I think I can guess. You just got back from cheerleading camp, yes?”

“Oh god.” Santana let out reflexively, swallowing back an expletive as she nodded stiffly. “Uh, yeah.” She cleared her throat, stashing her phone back into her pocket before her hand settled on her hip. “We, well, god, Rache already annoyingly had plans with you - you know how she is.” She huffed. “This is us working around that.” She paused for barely a second. “Obviously.” 

Honestly, Rachel had been incredibly annoyed at herself for distractedly agreeing to her fathers’ plans before pulling her day planner out and realizing Santana was coming home that same day. 

Hence Santana waiting to sneak in.

LeRoy laughed a little, shaking his head. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to Santana, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward against the chill. “At least you’re not smoking or doing something else foolish,” he offered, almost conversationally, glancing at Santana out of the corner of his eye as he stopped next to her, looking over the back yard, “Makes me just that much more willing to go inside and pretend I didn’t see you.”

As her phone vibrated in her coat, immediately drawing Santana’s attention away, Santana bit her lower lip. “Look... Mr. B...” she started, standing up straight, honestly feeling as annoyed with getting caught as she was feeling awkward, “I cans sidle on alongside the house and rap on the front door if you’d like. Make it obvious I’s here so’s you can send me along.”

LeRoy chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. And you’d go home? Not wait even longer until we went to bed and then scale up to Rachel’s room? Hiram and I had conversations when we planted that tree outside our hopeful child’s room, you know.”

Santana made a face. “Are you serious? ‘Cuz if you are, you really can’t blame me.”

Chuckling some more, LeRoy turned to smile at her. “No, no, I’m not blaming you for taking advantage of the foliage. Honestly, you’re already smarter than that flipper boy who tried to chuck actual fist size rocks at Rachel’s window.”

“Wait, he showed up here, too? At night?” Rachel hadn’t told her that. ‘Course, she hadn’t needed to tell Santana that. They’d just talked. And a lot of that talk had been about Rachel and Finn’s doomed relationship. Santana shook her head, raising her hand, “Not the point. Moving on.” She gave LeRoy one of her best, patented, ‘Rent Smiles’, it only flickering a bit as her phone vibrated again. 

LeRoy surveyed her. “Go ahead and check it. She’ll probably start to panic if you don’t.”

Santana’s ears warmed. And, though feeling a little disgruntled at how genial  Rachel’s father was being even with the general air of discomfort swirling around this encounter, she quickly tapped Rachel’s texts open.

My fathers are almost done with their nightly routine, so perhaps another fifteen minutes? Though part of me still finds this ridiculous, falling into the trap of a teenager secretly smuggling her lover into her room under the curtain of darkness, the part inside of me that misses you greatly and can’t wait to be in your arms is already jumping at the knowledge I will see you soon.

It really has been too long. I’m still kicking myself for so blindly postponing our reunion, especially since I know you’ve been missing me as much as I have been missing you. I hope the girls at your camp were nice enough to keep you occupied. Just, wait, no, not like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I know I should go ahead and delete this, but I can’t help... You didn’t, did you? I know, while we have been friends for a while, our romantic and sexual relationship is still pretty new, especially with the camp in the middle, and though I trust you... I’m sorry. Ignore this. It’s the nerves of seeing you. I’ll keep it in, however, so you’ll be able to understand my state of mind when you see me, as you’ve told me before trying to parse my complicated emotions if I don’t verbalize them is hard for you to do.

Santana? I didn’t... I didn’t insult you, did I? That’s the best possible reason for you not responding, at least. I’m doing my best not to jump to conclusions, but I did stumble upon asking you if you cheated on me, and your lack of reassurances... San? Please tell me I’m wrong.

“Fuck,” Santana hissed, ears prickling for another reason entirely than Rachel’s father standing in front of her, curiously watching her. 

She had to answer.

And even before she realized, Santana’s thumbs were whipping up a reply.

Babe. Ur dads here. Takin up my time. Dont worry. Ur cute when u panic but nothings gone on. Only u. No insults. And no conclusions. Missed u. A lot.

Purposefully ignoring the fact that she was baring more than she’d like to, Santana sent off the text and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Well, Mr. B?” she asked archly, crossing her arms, heart still racing in her chest, “I don’t mean to be rude -” Not. “- but can we hurry up you a), shooing me off, or b), letting me walk into your house, either with or without you?” 

Blinking at her, obviously left off-kilter, LeRoy drew it out, then guffawed - softly - and shook his head. “Alright, Santana,” he paused, looking up at the sky almost ruefully before looking back at her, lips quirking as he raised his hand, index finger pointed, “This once - just this once - I’m going to turn around and pretend I didn’t see you.”

Santana gaped at him. “What?”

“Yup.” LeRoy nodded at her, already stepping back towards the back entrance, smile gentling, “I love my daughter. And she’s been missing you. Putting up a brave front, but...” He paused, meeting her eyes. “Missing you. I remember those days.” He sobered even more, glancing back at the house. “So, just wait, mmm, about another half hour? Hiram and I should be safely in bed by then.”

Santana could only stare at her girlfriend’s father. “Really?” She swallowed, trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I... ...Yeah. Okay.” She cleared her throat, looking away as she forced out, “...Thanks, I guess.”

LeRoy turned back toward her, smile honest, almost amused, as if he could look through her. “Don’t mention it.”

And Santana, fingers curling around her phone as it vibrated with an answering message from Rachel, nodded. 

Silent as the man disappeared back into the house, “...Fuck,” Santana exhaled, dropping back against the wall, looking up and imagining Rachel looking back down at her from her window, “Jesus - fuck.”