#the boy to the right of mike = will to the right of mike during his monolgoue

[chirpsythismorning]

They were sick for this.

[bylertruther]

byler + santa clarita diet au where will is sheila and mike is joel. you nod and clap and agree because you know that it fucks severely and fits them perfectly, yes

summary for the uninitiated:

[elephantshoetoo]

Especially when you notice what was happening ten seconds before the Triple Take™ :

(Episode 4:5, paused at 24:23)

Sorry, it's hard to tell in the photo, but you can go check it out for yourself -- Mike is giving Will the same pining gaze Will gives him ten seconds later, it's just not the focus of the scene the way Will's is. That's why the gay panic happens. He tries to sneak another look at Will, but this time he gets caught, because his pookie bear is already staring back at him.

We moved on too fast from this gay ass scene....byler doubt idk her 🤷‍♂️

[pricelessemotion]

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween. 

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up. 

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets. 

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer. 

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas. 

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.  

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.  

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity. 

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him. 

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique. 

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths. 

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with. 

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses. 

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located. 

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.” 

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.   

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable. 

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?” 

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?” 

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.” 

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies. 

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest. 

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic. 

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” 

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils. 

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else. 

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—” 

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets. 

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity. 

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.” 

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place. 

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.” 

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door. 

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.” 

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate. 

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm. 

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns. 

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded. 

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted. 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[steddiealltheway]

During season 3, there’s a deleted scene (because I said so) of Max and El’s first spin-the-bottle spy attempt.

The bottle slows to a stop right on Steve's name, and the two girls giggle as El puts the blindfold on.

She finds him in his Scoops Ahoy outfits, and El giggles harder as she tells Max, "He's kissing some girl."

Max gasps, "Who is it?"

El starts walking closer, trying to see who it is, but their hair is covering their face. "Some girl with curly hair."

"Nancy?" Max whispers conspiratorily.

El shakes her head. "Her hair is short. This girl's hair is longer." She starts to turn red, feeling like she's been intruding for too long. She starts to reach up for her blindfold when the person pulls back and says, “Ahoy, Captain.”

Just as Steve groans in irritation, El yanks the blindfold off and freezes. Max shakes her and asks, “What? What happened?”

El pauses, thinking back to the time Mike had to explain why he was so angry when Troy called Will a fairy. She didn’t understand why people were upset about a boy loving another boy, but she understood that it wasn’t something people talked about. Just like she wasn’t allowed to use her powers, Will wasn’t allowed to openly like boys.

So, she just lets out a deep breath and reasons with herself that it isn’t a lie when she says, “They started using tongue.”

While Max shrieks with laughter, El smiles at her, trying not to think of the boy Steve was with.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(An added extra part that is WAY longer than intended. Oops. Coming back after editing to add JSKEHDISBEHSH)

The next year, the information seems to come in handy when Dustin urges El to see if his friend Eddie is still somehow alive in the upside down.

The others are all there, trying to describe what he looks like when Nancy and Jonathan volunteer to run to the school and grab his missing poster for a photo. But the descriptions paint a clear picture in El’s head of someone she’s seen before. Briefly. But she remembers.

Curly hair. Wears lots of rings. Big brown doe eyes and full lips - Steve’s very helpful description.

And El can’t help but turn to Steve and whisper, “Ahoy, Captain?

Steve’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush red. His mouth opens and closes asking, “How-? Why-? When-?”

“Is that him?” El asks firmly.

Steve only nods. Brushing off everyone who asks What does she mean? By telling them to be quiet while El puts on her blindfold.

She finds herself somewhere dark and cold, feeling the familiarity of the place as she seeks out Eddie. She walks around, calling out his name, getting more and more desperate as time goes by.

But she suddenly feels something watching her and quickly turns around, finding Eddie as pale as a ghost staring at her from the ground. She bends down and puts a hand on his face. “We’re coming for you, okay? We’re coming.”

Eddie tilts his head and asks, “Who?”

“Steve,” El automatically says, hoping it’s the right person to name.

The name seems to give Eddie a small bit of hope.

“And Dustin,” El adds. “Dustin’s coming for you.”

Eddie gives her a weak smile and mumbles, “I knew he’d miss me.”

El smiles at the joke. She hears the other people in the room begin to ask if he’s alive, to remind him that someone named Wayne is coming.

El squeezes his cold cheek, hoping some of her warmth will bleed through the connection. “Just hang on a little longer, okay? They say Wayne’s coming too.”

Eddie weakly smiles again and murmurs, “Wayne.” His eyes get heavy, and El shakes him. “Mmm awake,” Eddie slurs. El hears footsteps behind her and turns, not seeing anything, but as she turns back she finds Eddie disappearing.

She reaches out yelling, “No! No! Hold on!”

When he’s completely gone she yanks the blindfold off, weeping as someone pulls her into their chest. She doesn’t hear any of the questions around her as she says, “Run to him. Run!”

But finally, Mike gets through to her and asks, “Did you see Steve there?”

El wipes her eyes and asks, “What?”

“Did you see Steve there?” Mike repeats.

El glances around, noticing that Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Robin are no longer there. “Where-“

“They went to him as soon as you said we’re coming for you. Did you see them there?” Will explains quickly.

El shakes her head. “There were footsteps but… Eddie vanished before I saw anyone.”

Mike looks far off and puts his head in his hands.

They’re too late.

A tense silence passes.

“This is a code green! I repeat this is a code green!” Dustin’s staticky voice rings through the walkie.

The three kids race toward it, Mike grabs it first asking, “He’s okay?”

“He’s alive,” Dustin says, sounding choked up. “He’s alive.”

El sighs in relief and rushes off to the door.

“Where are you going?” Will asks.

“The hospital, come on.”

The trip there is fast, but no one lets them see Eddie yet as he’s still in critical condition. But they all opt to wait as long as they need to get any updates.

El sees Steve eye her for a while before she moves to sit in the chair next to him. She waits for him to talk first.

“So… how did you… know?” Steve asks.

El flushes red and ducks her head. “Max and I were playing this game where we would spin a bottle and-”

“Okay, I know where this is going. Jesus, kid,” Steve mutters.

El glares at him. “We would spin a bottle and see who it landed on to spy on them.”

“Oh,” Steve says, pausing before he suddenly realizes, “You spied on me?”

“Yes,” El replies because friends don’t lie.

Steve flushes red and asks, “So, how much of me and Eddie did you see?”

El leans in to whisper, “You were kissing a lot.”

“Christ,” Steve says, before burying his head in his hands. He slowly looks up at her and asks, “Did you… tell anyone?”

“No.”

Steve sighs and leans back in his chair, staring off.

El can’t help but press on. “Did you love him?”

Steve stops breathing for a second as he considers the question. He turns to her slowly and says, “I did.”

“Did?”

Steve runs a hand over his face. “It’s complicated.”

El pauses and says, “Well, it looked like he really loved you too.” When Steve gives her a look, she adds, “And he looked happy when I said you were coming for him.”

A conflicted look crosses over Steve’s face. “Did he really?”

El nods. “Friends don’t lie.”

Steve smiles and huffs a small laugh. “That’s right.” He hesitates before slinging an arm around El’s shoulder and pulling her into his side as much as he can with the arm of chair being between them. He plants a kiss to her head and whispers, “I’ll give you a lecture later about the spying thing. But for now… thank you.”

El leans into the hug, staying until an older man walks into the room.

“Wayne!” Dustin yells and runs to wrap his arms around him.

El watches as Steve slowly stands up and offers his hand to Wayne when Dustin pulls away. Wayne looks at Steve for a moment before pulling him into a hug.

El wants to ask and know the whole story behind Steve and Eddie and this Wayne person. But she thinks it’s time to look away as Steve breaks down in Wayne’s arms and the older man’s bottom lip quivers. “I know, son. I know.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

They wait for a long time before there’s finally news.

They all collectively hold their breath as the doctor walks into the room. He look over at them all before announcing, “He’s stable.”

A wave of relief floods through the room, but El thinks there’s an added tension when they’re informed that he isn’t allowed visitors yet.

But Wayne follows the doctor out the door and has a very stern word with him before he’s reluctantly allowed to disappear down the hall.

A few minutes later, he comes back to the room and asks, “El?”

El sits up straighter. “Yes?”

“He’s asking for you.”

El glances at all her friends before she stands up and follows (who Dustin had told her is) Eddie’s uncle. As she gets to the room, she looks at all the tubes connected to Eddie’s body, and wonders how he even asked for her.

But as she gets closer to the bed, she sees Eddie’s eyes crack slightly open.

“Lean down so he can whisper to you,” Wayne advises.

El leans closer and hears Eddie says, “I know… how… to get… to Max.”

El leans back and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Show me.”

With that, she’s taken into a vision of horrors, of Eddie dying and coming back. His heart restarted by Vecna for some unknown reason. A vision of all the bodies tied to the tree but Max’s spot is empty. But there’s something there. Something that’s trapped in the empty vines. But just as she sees it, a clock strikes in the distance, and it all begins to disappear.

She gasps as she steps away from Eddie, catching her breath as Wayne asks what the hell is happening.

But she can only run out of the room, heading toward Max’s room knowing where she needs to go to find her and bring her back.

[jimmybutlrr]

Mystery Girl

Pairing: Professor -Terry Richmond x Brown-Skinned Women

Warnings : 18+. Romance, Mature Content (Cursing, and Smut) One-Shot, "Getting Slut Out"

Summary: He's that easy, that his draws dropped a few hours after meeting.

A/N: You voted and you shall receive. As always constructive Criticism is welcome and feedback *No Part 2*

“SURPRISE” everyone said. 

Terry clutches his heart feeling happy that his family showed up and out for him. 

“Thank y'all,” Terry said. After going around the party greeting every family member and friends. Terry can be found talking to Mike and the rest of his friend group. “We have to the club, maybe the strip club” Mike said, throwing all the options out there, “calm down, I just came back after being in the military for a few years” Terry said knowing his cousin is not going to take no for an answer. “You're right, we could go to the bar and use your military discount” Mike said, making the men laugh. 

Terry sighs, thinking about the options, laid out in front of him. “Alright, we can go to the bar but only for a few hours because I want to bury these memories”. Terry said in despain, thinking about his time in the military. “I’m going to make those memories disappear” That’s what Mike said a few hours ago, now being too drunk to entertain Terry. 

As Terry sits at the bar talking to the bartender as he has nothing better to do. During the time he spent talking to her, he found out that she had graduated university with a bachelors of social science, has a chihuahua, is collecting another degree  and works at the bar to be able to pay off her classes and debt.  “I really enjoy this talk with you but It’s the end of my shift and I have to switch out now, See you later Handsome .

" The bartender says winking at Terry and leaves before Terry can have a chance to get her number. Drinking the rest of his drink, he looks around for Mike and the boys, seeing them on the dance floor and he walks towards them. Tapping one of his friends on the shoulder, he lets them know that he has to leave and to watch out for Mike. “I have to go, but make sure you guys  make it home safe, alright”. The man nodds to Terry’s words, turning around to continue to dance with the bad gyal in front of him.  

Making his way through the club, throwing a few excuses here and there. He gets to the exit of the club and starts searching for his car when he sees the bartender on the phone, arguing with the uber as he’s not understanding where to go or what she’s saying. Terry walks up to her grabbing her attention, “Hi, I was just walking to my car, when I  saw you upset and I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright, as it’s dark out” Terry said concerned for safety. “I’m alright , it’s just the uber, they're starting to piss me off”. She said upset, “If It makes you feel better, you look sexy when you’re mad” Terry said walking  even closer to her, she blushes feeling flattered, by his compliment. 

“Thank you handsome, you don’t look too bad yourself” She smiles, staring into his eyes, biting her lip, noticing the height difference between them.  “I’m about about to go home, do you need a ride” Terry said breaking the silence, “I would love that” She said putting her head down, Terry wanting to charm her some more, takes to fingers and picks up her head “Don’t put your head down around me”  he demands staring into her eyes some more, feeling a bit chilly as he has no jacket, he put his arm around her neck and starts walking towards his car.

Thinking back to how they met, It really doesn’t explain how she ended up on his bed with her face planted into the sheets, gripping for dear life. “Don’t cum, Don’t cum” Terry demanded “No ppllleeaassee, let.. .me .. .cum, ppllleeeaasse” moans as her stomach starts hurting her. “It hurts, pleassee”. Terry nodds “Alright let it out, when i could to 3 alright” Terry said, lifting up her hand to start slapping her cheeks “ One “Slap” Two “Slap” Three” Terry said feeling her tighten around his dick, feeling like 2 orgasm isn’t enough. 

He starts fucking her through her orgasm, not caring that she’s trying to push his stomach way from her “Please, it too much,plleeaassee” She moans feeling tired. Terry stops, slapping her ass one good time before turning her around. He takes her legs putting them next to her head giving her a small kiss before he starts to bottom her pussy out”OOOMMYY Gooooodddd”. Tears start falling from her eyes, all while her ears start ringing and her body starts twitching. 

Making her reach up to push his body,” Why you running” Terry said, grabbing her hands and choking her. Looking down, Terry smirks, seeing drools fall from her mouth, the whites of her eyes and her delayed speech, trying her hardest to speak English or at least speak at all, it was cute. Terry’s thrust starts rough and slopier, revealing that his nut is getting closer and closer. “Come on, Nut deep inside me, daddy please” She said hoping to be filled. Terry obeys letting of a string of curses while he nuts deep inside her, not caring about the missing condom

Letting go of her body, he falls next to her, both too tired to get up. They fall asleep bare and sheetless.  A few weeks later, Terry wakes up and starts rubbing his eyes. Walking to his bathroom he starts getting ready for his first day being a substitute teacher for a college course that his connections helped him get. He gets to work, taking out the lesson plan from the previous teacher, the students start piling in one by one. Scanning everybody's faces for remembrance, he sees her. Shocked that she turned out to be his student, while also coming to the conclusion that she is equally as shocked as she is seated staring at him with the same eyes that were rolling back, just a few weeks before. When it hits him, He never got her name.

Tags -

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackgurlnhermoods

@easybrezzy @planetblaque

@urfavblackbimbo @jenlovey

@avoidthings @kimuzostar

@skvrpion @theereina

@megamindsecretlair @theereina

@melaninpov @mscarter213

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: An evening in the Wheeler basement reveals what you've been trying to deny about your best friend, and longtime crush, Eddie.

WC: 827

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, unrequited love, mention of sex. You've been warned.

--

Eddie “Speak First, Think Later” Munson struck again. 

A rainy spring Saturday had the Hellfire Club gathered for an impromptu meeting in the Wheeler basement. Eddie whipped out a campaign that he’d been saving, somehow just as detail-rich as the ones he’d meticulously prepared for regular Friday sessions. It had gone on for hours until Dustin, the last player standing, rolled to cast a fireball and was met with utter failure. 

“Damn, and here I thought this was one of my weaker ones.” Eddie popped a sour cream and onion chip in his mouth, crunching down with a triumphant grin. “Looks like I’m unstoppable. Impenetrable. Invincible, even.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Gareth muttered, but there was no missing his own smile as he added, “tell that to Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy Cunningham? Your stomach dropped at the mention of her name. You’d noticed him glancing over at her table in the cafeteria, and saw him at her locker a few times, but that didn’t mean…

Jeff snorted. “He can’t tell her anything without looking like a total moron. ‘H-Hey, Chrissy. Nice hair, um, thing.’” 

“I do not sound like that, asshole.”

“Dude, you said that exact sentence in algebra yesterday. It was a direct quote.”

Your throat was scratchy from shouting during the game, but you cleared it and forced yourself to speak. “What’s going on with Chrissy?”

Grant ignored the glare that Eddie preemptively gave the rest of the guys. “Our fearless leader is smitten with the Queen of Hawkins High,” he teased. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all underscored his statement with obnoxious kissy noises. 

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled, but it only further spurred them on. 

“Don’t be shy,” Dustin said through his laughter. “Everyone knows you loooooove her!”

You didn’t. Okay, maybe a part of you did, but your optimism—or perhaps naivety—dismissed the idea. Because if he loved Chrissy, that meant he didn’t love you. It meant the long hugs and arms slung over your shoulder were platonic. That the deep conversations late into the night were simply between friends. 

“I don’t love her,” Eddie retorted, his pinkening cheeks giving him away. “I just think she’s cute, okay?”

“Cute?” Lucas said. He rolled his eyes. “Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. Babies are—”

“Fine, I think she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life!” Eddie snapped, but a soft smile tugged at the ends of his lips. “Are you idiots happy now?”

The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life. In his life. 

Happy? You were the farthest thing from happy. 

Your eyes blurred with tears, blinking them back and timing a sniffle with the crinkling of the chip bag as Mike passed it to Lucas. If you could pull yourself together, you could excuse yourself before you broke down completely. 

“Dude.” Jeff looked at Eddie, pulling his gaze to you despite your reluctance to even glance his way. “She’s a girl.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie chuckled, snagging his Mountain Dew can from the snack table and taking an extended swig. “It’s not like I’m gonna have sex with my best friend, though.”

Gareth feigned a pout. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not having sex with you either.”

You watched as Eddie finished his soda, crushing the can in his fist and tossing it at the drummer’s curly mop of hair. 

It’s not like I’m gonna have sex with my best friend. 

Not even a pause. Not a moment of consideration. Nothing close to the movie-esque scene where the boy realized that the girl of his dreams had been right in front of him the whole time. 

Mustering up a half-smile, you pushed yourself off of the couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’m pretty beat.”

Beat. Broken. Destroyed. Shattered. 

Eddie sat up, brushing Lays crumbs onto his jeans and leaving them shiny with oily residue. “Let me drive you,” he offered. 

You shook your head. “N-No, I wanna walk.” 

“It’s raining,” he protested. 

“It’s fine.”

That may have been the first time you’d declined the chance to spend time alone with him. You lived for the days you’d climb into the passenger seat of his van after Hellfire, resting your head against the window as it vibrated from the bass of the radio speakers. 

Eddie shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, turning his attention back to the guys. 

He didn’t come after you. You heard his laughter echoing around the basement as you ascended the stairs, barely managing to close the door before you burst into tears. 

Everything you wanted Eddie to feel for you, he felt for Chrissy. The thought of watching his eyes follow her around the cafeteria on Monday roiled a sickness within you. 

You wished you’d never showed up to the Wheelers’ today. Although it wouldn’t have changed Eddie’s love for Chrissy—or his lack of love for you—at least you could continue pretending that there was hope. 

Now, you had nothing but a broken heart.  

--

[thefirstlioveyou]

Mike only fights back against bullies after they hurt someone he loves, but never for himself.

When he was tripped? When he was pressured to jump off a cliff? he just took it and never fought against it later. He never got back at them for it.

Mike's learned to take it, but he's ashamed of it. Watching back the clip where they trip him, you can notice Mike is trying not to cry. You can hear it in his voice with the way it cracks and shakes, and especially with the noise he makes at the end. He hides how they actually make him feel.

He tries to hide the real reason why he had a mark on a chin from el, afraid she'd think of him as a wastoid/loser. He just wanted one person - just one - to not think of him the way he thinks everyone else does - the way he thinks of himself.

He hides the reason for the bruise from the first girl that's ever shown interest in him. He doesn't tell his parents. (there is zero implication his parents are aware of the bullying until finally when his son is wanted by the whole town s4. karen is right there in front of him to see the scab but we never see acknowledgment from her). There's a good chance nobody but Dustin and El know about the whole cliff thing.

We are explicitly told how Will and El feel about the bullying and hate they've faced in their life, but not Mike. They are hiding him cause LOOK AT HOW HES OUT OF FOCUS IN BOTH OF THESE SCENES!! DURING THESE LINES!!!

MIKE UNDERSTANDS THEM. He knows where they're coming from!! why isn't he just saying that? pride. shame. fear. downplaying his emotions because his parents have taught him what he thinks/feels/does does not matter. not that they insult him.. they just ignore him or things that matter to him. that's enough to make a child feel insignificant.

buddy all you did was slightly open up about feeling not needed and insulted yourself in the process...

karen failing to call it by the actual name implies she doesn't remember details about him -- the things that matter to him. his correction implies it's important to him that she refers to it by its actual name, and this is most likely not the first time he corrects her by the way he says it casually.

the fact mike has zero reaction to any of this implies this is a normal thing for him to hear in his house (another instance in which he doesn't defend himself from insults, because he himself believes it)

His parents do not go to him. They do not intervene and rather wait for him to feel better on his own. Mind you this is a 12-14 year old boy. Why on earth is it all on him to manage alone???

"how is this bad?"

this plays exactly after we get a scene of Joyce not confronting Jonathan - her son - crying in his bedroom. Jonathan is parentified. He doesn't receive the same attention he needs as a child the way Will does because he needed to help provide. Although they're entirely different situations from each other (put down the fucking pitchforks), they both include a parent avoiding emotional connection with a child that's dealing with grief to let them take care of it by themselves. this is a clear parallel that's meant to be noticed.

they continue to just wait for mike to fix it all himself.

Mike feels worthless. He feels like a loser. He feels like he doesn't belong the same way El and Will do. He doesn't feel needed. But he's not gonna say it because he's learnt it doesn't matter. We have all the reasons to believe why he would feel that way.

Instead, during scenes where Will and El talk about bullying making them feel worthless, the director and cinematographer will simply just make sure he's in the background and out of focus, much like he his to his parents. Much like he is to the GA. Much like how it feels to suffer from depression.

[bylerlipglances]

very interesting choice of words placement for songs during prominent milkvan moment. snowball dance. (must have noticed by many, this is just a repost)

he must be greatful that eleven joined him but his sadness remains. wonder why.

mike facing eleven side is dark, one facing will is lit up (notice how his face is literally in dark for most scenes) . eleven is well lit .

"I keep crying baby" continues even when they kiss! Mike is experiencing some deep emotional pain right here & this Kiss isn't helping.

The 'Zombie boy' girl did some real damage to michael.

infamous one: "every smile you fake"

this is torture for both will and mike alike & ofcouse its a stalker song for mindflayer, so its pretty much a negative.

@frogsdontcry has done a deep dive, a must checkout:

https://www.tumblr.com/frogsdontcry/765035103851315200/back-then-i-had-never-paid-too-much-attention-to?source=share

[bettysupremacy]

hi! idk if u write smut or not but if u do plz do some smut on mike schmidt🙏🏼🙏🏼 ill literally take anything😭

This is so real 17+ this isn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever written idk why I’m a lil shy posting it 😭

This is a rare occasion, Abby out of the house, Mike under you. It’s a quiet night under the loudness of the tv movie he’d chosen, quiet under the noise of you and Mike. You can’t pinpoint the moment he was mush in your fingers, but you’re confident it was near your fingers squeezing his thighs mid make out.

He wants you bad, hands kneading at your hips nervously. “Do you- ah,” his fingers tighten as your lips attach under his ear hungrily. He uses this moment to breathe.“take it.. to the bedroom?”

He can’t think, lost in the haze of your presence. You don’t pull up. “Hmm?”

“I-“ he sucks, hips bucking up into your clothed pussy. Going to speak again, he breaks off into a pitiful whimper. “God.”

You pull up for air, smiling at the swollen boy under you like prey. Your eyes bore into him meanly, your fingers dancing into his hair teasingly. He whines loudly as you pull his head back sharply. “Don’t feed my ego, you know my name.”

“Please,” he manages out. “please.”

“This begging gets you nowhere.” Your grip doesn’t loosen.

“Ple- fuck!” You grind down on him, dropping your hands to use his shoulders as support. He keens at the friction loudly. “Thank you!”

You grind down again, watching his jaw drop further. He can’t breathe during the slow roll of your hips, gasping in chunks of air. “Mhm.”

“I need you.” He babbles. “I need you, I need you.”

“You have me.” You scoff. “Don’t be greedy.”

He nearly sobs, pawing at your waist pathetically. “I’m not greedy.”

You slap his hand away when the roll of your hip slows. “Not greedy.”

“I’m not!” He hiccups, head tilted down to eye your fingers. They dance lightly between you, peeling the wet material of his underwear from his tip slowly. His breathing hitches as you grin up at him, pulling the whole thing down even slower. “Oh god.”

“Is that right?” You eye him, hands making their way to your own pair of underwear.

“Yeah.” He reaches down, peeling the fabric to the side too frantic to completely discard them.

“Greedy boys don’t rush.”

His hands drop frustratedly. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” you laugh, grabbing his wrist to guide him. You’re prideful in his lost stare as you swipe his fingers through your folds. “you’re not.”

With your other hand, you grab his dick, pulling it towards your wet cunt. He yields control, watching as you swipe him slowly through you. The sound is obscene. The look on his face even more so.

“You want this?” He’s lost, attention gone. “Hey.” Your fingers snap in his face. “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he gasps, bucking up into you. “yes, please.”

He breaks, the air knocked out of him as you finally sink down onto his abused and swollen cock.

“Now be a good boy and listen.”

[alwaysurvalentine]

Three Strikes and You're Out! - st fic

This is a follow up to: this - wc: 2.8k - cw: nothing to worry about I think!

enjoy! 💛

Eddie decides to talk to Robin first. He’s not sure what to expect when she swings her front door open and yells over her shoulder to Mrs. Buckley. 

“I’ll be back in a bit, go ahead and eat!” 

And then she’s stomping over to his van and looking at him expectantly from the passenger seat. He almost trips rushing to follow her, but is able to start his car in one piece.

“I was wondering when you were going to come by. Steve mentioned things didn’t go over well the other night.” She says it bluntly and Eddie flinches. He knows the other night could’ve gone better. Like a dog with a bone, he’s been dissecting the other night in great detail. Can’t stop thinking of how frustrated Steve seemed with himself, how the words ‘stupid’ and ‘bullshit’ dripped vitriol from his mouth, and how he let the other boy leave in such a hurry. He taps his hands against the steering wheel softly before answering.

“Yeah. It wasn’t good, Birdie. I really messed up.” Personally, he doesn’t think ‘messed up’ really covers it. He feels like he walked himself right off the edge of a pier into icy waters. Steve hasn’t answered the couple of times he’s called and the only reason why Eddie’s not searching town for him is knowing that Steve has at least been giving the brats rides to the arcade. Hearing his voice on the radio has been enough, but Eddie can’t take the closed off silence he’s getting now. 

“So I’ve heard. Wanna tell me how things went from your perspective?”

He tells her the story once they get to the diner. There’s a plate of fries between them but Eddie just picks at them instead of actually eating. Robin’s blue eyes feel like daggers so he’s been more focused on watching the parking lot than looking at her.

“Like I said, I know I messed up.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Robin speaks up again, words calm.

“Do you even know how you did?”

And Eddie realizes, he doesn’t really. He knows Steve is upset but to be this upset over a D&D game? There’s something more under the surface – that’s why he was drawn to Robin. If anyone is going to know what the root of the problem is, it’s Steve’s own nerdy band soulmate. She has to know why Steve pulled away halfway through the session. Eddie had thought things were going well; Dustin had helped Steve with his character, Jeff let him borrow some of his dice, and Steve had been asking questions. But they all asked questions when they started! Sometimes Gareth even had to double check an action versus the rules during his turns. 

The more Eddie thinks about it though, Steve had only asked a couple questions before Mike had made some comment under his breath. It wasn’t long after that that the ex-jock had said he’d be gone for a quick break but to continue without him. A quick break turned into him not coming back to the table at all and Eddie wrapping up the session early to everyone’s disappointment. After everyone went home is when things went downhill, but he still doesn’t know why it bothered Steve so much.

“Eddie.” Robin’s voice sounds pitying, like she’s sad he wasn’t able to make this connection on his own. “You said it yourself, you can’t be good at everything you try the first time. But this is Steve we’re talking about. He feels like he can’t mess up. If he ever slips up, you know what those kids of his do?”

Eddie does. He knows the kids, especially Mike and Dustin, tend to fixate on Steve’s slip ups. They’re just like siblings in that way, but Steve’s always been an only child. Eddie can imagine that the constant harping probably sits a little heavier on Steve’s shoulder than the kids realize. He pulls his gaze from the window and looks at Robin again. 

Something like regret is crawling up his spine – he helped make a space where Steve felt bad for messing up, and then yelled at him for not trying.

“Oh Birdie, I really messed up. How do I fix this? I just wanted to share this with him. And I know all the kids did too. He’s their glorified big brother, whether he realizes it or not – they just want to have more in common with him.” 

She’s nodding along to his words, plate now empty except for the last dredges of the ketchup she’d put there earlier. “Maybe it’s not so much that they need to share what they like with him, but that you guys need to share what he likes. I may not care about sports as much as he does, but I’ve played on bleachers long enough to follow a game. Sometimes that’s what our hang outs are: he puts on the latest game and I paint my nails or work on patches for my jacket. He’s got his own interests, you know? That’s what makes him who he is – he just goes along with what everyone else likes because no one really likes his stuff except for-”

“Lucas. Robin Buckley, you are a genius.”

~

That’s how Eddie finds himself at the Sinclair’s house a couple hours later. He’d radioed Lucas as soon as he dropped off Robin and was pleasantly surprised to find out he was free that afternoon. Things were rocky between them for a while, with Eddie replacing him with Erica while he played the championship game. Steve had been the one to get Eddie to apologize about it. Made Eddie see how important both games had been to Lucas, how unfair it was to force him to pick one over he other. Especially since one has a coach breathing down the players necks to make sure they’re at every game, unlike the Hellfire Club getting to pick their meeting days and times. Lucas forgave him as soon as he said sorry but Eddie vowed he’d do better in the future about re-scheduling to make sure there weren’t issues. He couldn’t imagine having a show and none of his friends showing up. 

“Hey Eddie! Lucas mentioned you were coming by.” Mrs. Sinclair welcomed him in, gesturing for him to follow her into the kitchen. It was nice to be accepted so easily into their home, he’d worried when meeting all of the party's parents that they would decide he was the hell raiser people claimed him to be without giving him a real chance. Looking back, he should’ve known better – there’s no way his sheep would have parents that weren’t at least a little open minded. 

He follows her to the kitchen and gets hit with a wave of warmth and the smell of brown sugar. Mrs. Sinclair slips on a faded blue oven mitt before pulling a tray of cookies from the oven.

“Are the cookies done yet?” Little Erica comes around the corner and raises an eyebrow at Eddie. “And when did you get here?” 

“Just got here. Your mom just pulled the cookies out, so you’ve got impeccable timing as always Lady Applejack.” He grins down at her when she brightens at the promise of warm cookies. It’s nice to see the kids getting to be kids after everything. 

“Lucas is in the backyard, will you bring him some of these before someone tries to eat them all.” Mrs. Sinclair smiles and nods her head towards Erica, who’s trying to save a cookie from the floor since it’s so warm it’s falling apart. 

Lucas tosses the ball as soon as Eddie steps outside and lets out an excited ‘whoop!’ when it goes into the basket. “Nice one?” Eddiesounds less confident when he says it but he’s also very aware he wouldn’t be able to do the same thing no matter how hard he tried. The smile he gets from Lucas rids him of his nervousness though and he holds out the plate of cookies. 

“I’ve been sent with snacks.” The plate’s taken from his hands quickly, cookie in Lucas’ mouth in seconds. 

“Thanks. So what’d you wanna talk about? Not that I don’t like seeing you, we just don’t usually hang out one on one.” 

Guilt fills Eddie’s stomach, especially since he’s here to ask a favor. But honestly, maybe this is good for him. To learn more about Lucas too. 

“Well. I’m gonna level with you. I need you to teach me about sports.”

~

Sports are much more complicated than Eddie ever gave them credit for. Lucas spent the afternoon going over the different rules for basketball. He’d tried to follow as best he could, and while some stuff stuck, like what exactly a three-pointer was and why dribbling was so important – Eddie knows he’s far from being a sports fan. When Lucas had mentioned that Steve’s favorite had been baseball, he’d hoped to learn some there too. But baseball wasn’t Lucas’ passion so he’d put off that research for later.

Even if he didn’t get all of it, it was nice to see Lucas so excited. He’s seen the kid during campaigns, planning out different attacks with the group, but now he’s kind of excited to see him in action on the court. Kid’s got a good heart and with how strongly he adores the group, Eddie knows the passion has to show when he plays. 

So he leaves with a smile on his face and his heart full. He really is lucky to have these people in his life. 

~

“Uncle Wayne! Just the man I wanted to see!” 

Just like he expected, Eddie walks in to the trailer to see Wayne watching a game on the couch. It’s his day off and usually that means Eddie lets him have the trailer to relax until dinner time and then they eat together. Eddie’s cut into a couple hours of what he likes to call ‘Wayne’s TV Time’ but he knows his uncle won’t mind. 

After toeing off his shoes and hanging his vest, Eddie plops down next to Wayne. The older man jostles with the movement but doesn’t say anything as he turns the TV down. All of a sudden, Eddie is nervous. He knows Wayne won’t judge him for asking, especially once he knows why he needs to know all about baseball. But he also hates admitting he hurt someone, unintentional or not.

“Out with it, Ed.” 

Eddie stops messing with his rings at his uncle’s voice. “I need your help with something.” 

“You know I always have your back, what’s going on?” 

And it all spills out. Trying to play D&D with Steve, the conversation after, his goal to understand Steve more before apologizing properly.

“Sounds like you’re already on track. Whatcha need me for?” 

“Well, I’m so glad you asked. IneedyoutoteachmeallaboutbaseballsothatIcantalktoSteveaboutit.”

“How about you try that while breathing?”

“I need you to teach me about baseball so that I can talk to Steve about it.”

~

Thankfully Wayne has the patience of a saint because Eddie asks him a question nearly every time he goes to explain something.

“How do you know it’s in the strike zone?”

“There’s different ways to throw the ball? And it’s all based off of one guy’s hand code on which one to do?”

“So what you’re saying is that every player has different ability scores that make them better players in different positions?” 

“You can steal bases?”

“How come a run isn’t a point?”

“A top and bottom inning? Kinky. Whose idea was that?” 

~

Wayne’s been asleep for a couple of hours when Eddie hears a soft knock at the trailer door. He’d heard a car pull up a few minutes before but just figured it was one of the neighbors finally getting home. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see Steve on his doorstep. 

“Steve?” “Eddie-”

“Come in -” “I just want to say-”

Steve huffs a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners for a second before a small frown overtakes his face. The shadows of the porch make the expression deeper, somber almost.

“Come in for a minute?” He sounds pleading to his own ears, but it doesn’t stop Eddie from backing into the trailer – trusting Steve to follow him to his room. His room is a bit of a mess, clothes on the floor and a couple boxes still left unpacked from when they moved. There’s a a few notebooks laying open on his bed, notes he’d taken today and connections he’s tried to make. He wasn’t quite ready for this talk with Steve but he’s more prepared than he was the other day.

“So, Eddie...I just wanted to say I was sorry.” 

Eddie whips around to face Steve, notebooks now in a stack in his hands. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

Steve’s brows furrow at Eddie’s words, confusion and indignation filling his eyes. 

“What?”

“Only you would apologize for something that’s not your fault. Unbelievable. Steve, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hut your feelings the other day. I was just so excited for you to be playing with us that I didn’t think about you being nervous about it.” 

The indignation in Steve’s eyes fades and all he’s left with is the eyes of a sad puppy dog. He almost looks lost, shoulders hunched in slightly to make him appear smaller. 

“What does that matter? I still ruined the fun.” Somehow, he makes himself even smaller. Eddie’s stomach turns at the sight. Steve shouldn’t be so practiced in making himself small and Eddie’s going to do everything he can to get him out of that habit.

“No you didn’t. Us being pig-headed ruined the fun. Stop looking at me like that, come here.” His mattress sinks when he sits and he pats the bedding next to him. 

“I mean it, come here. I wanna show you something. It’s what I’ve been working on these couple of days.”

Finally, Steve comes to sit next to him. Unlike so many times before he’s stiff next to Eddie, not letting himself relax. 

“So I’m gonna be honest here. I was really confused when you left the other night. Some of the stuff you said didn’t seem like it was really about me. But that doesn’t matter. You know, why?” 

A shake of his head is the only response Eddie gets.

“Because at the end of the day, we made you feel like you couldn’t ask questions. I made you feel bad too. So I might’ve reached out to a couple of people for help. If it’s one thing that Wayne’s taught me, it’s to apologize. I talked to Buckley first.”

Finally, a small smile from Steve that stays there. 

“She pointed out something I should’ve been able to figure out on my own. We all have our own interests and you always make space for it. But we don’t ever do the same for you.” 

“Ed-”

“Don’t fight me on this. You always let us talk about what we want, you always host for us; you always look out for us. It’s about time more than one of us takes the time to do it for you too. Anyway, so then I talked with the other sports nerds in my life: Lucas and Wayne. And I came up with this!”

Steve hasn’t stopped smiling which is giving Eddie more confidence by the minute. He grabs at the notebooks he moved earlier, flipping back a couple of pages before leaning into Steve’s space. At the top of the page he’s written ‘D&D vs Baseball’. To Steve, the notes probably look crazy. There’s a couple doodles of dice and baseballs around the page and his writing is messy from where he tried connecting the two while laying in his bed.

“What is this?” Gently, Steve takes the notebook from Eddie’s hands, fingers tracing the rough sketch of a baseball field. 

“If you want to give D&D another try, I think I found a better way of describing it.” Eddie’s full on grinning now, knows his dimples are exposed with his happiness. “But, if you never wanna play again I get that too.”

“Eddie.” Only five letters, but Steve still chokes on them slightly. His hazel eyes are filled with tears and the smile drops from Eddie’s face.

“Wait – no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Was this a bad idea?” He goes to take the notebook back but Steve tightens his grip. Honey eyes lock with Eddie’s even as a tear falls. 

“No, this is so nice.” Steve looks at the notes again and brushes at the tears on his cheeks. “I don’t know what all these notes mean, but it looks like you might be on to something.” 

Steve smiles at Eddie and sets the notebook to the side. And then Eddie’s being hugged. Steve can’t be comfortable, twisted and leaning like he is – but Eddie hugs back anyway. Wraps his arms around Steve and rests a gentle hand on the back of Steve’s head where he’s tucked into Eddie’s neck. Steve squeezes around his middle once and then backs up, tears no longer falling but his smile remaining. 

“Think you can try and explain these notes to me?”

Wanted to tag: @adverbally , @ravenfrog , and @blossomingblueberries. Thanks for your support/interest in another part! I hope this did it justice! 💛

Now officially with a third part! pt. 3

[vroomvroomcircuit]

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

[glisten-inthedark]

Is there a heterosexual explanation for this?! Because I swear to God, Mike looks likes not even listening to Will at all. He's staring at him almost like he's in a freaking daze, like he's staring at Will like he's the embodiment of everything that is good and right and pure and it's like he's not even breathing during the scene.

You can almost feel him catch his breath. The way he slowly blinks, like he literally got lost in Will, the way he looks at Will's lips and smiles with so much fondness and love.

When was the last time we saw him looking at El like that? Seriously.

This boy is down bad.

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me - Five

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Continuing immediately from part Four. And I hear your screaming, and enjoy it, but I am pretty sure that I'm not going the direction you expect me to.

------

“Huh?”

“I asked them to,” Eddie repeated, quieter.

It didn’t make more sense the second time.  His kids were stubborn. They were obnoxious, and someone asking them to do, or not do something had never once changed anything. Steve spent the last few years asking them not to leave crumbs in his car, and to call before coming over, and to please, just once, let him choose the movie on a movie night. Plus the part where everyone asked them not to put themselves in danger when monsters crawled out of the ground. 

Threats didn’t work on them, law enforcement didn’t work on them, like hell was something as delicate as asking going to do a damn thing. 

“Yeah, no, I heard you, but I don’t get it. So you, what? You sat them down and asked them to ice me out? And they said ‘sure why not!’ Man, even if you asked them to, they’re still the ones that did it. Shit, you’ve never liked me. There’s no way that you didn’t tell the boys to stop hanging out with me last year during your game meetings before everything happened.” Eddie shrank further into the seat, so Steve added, “So, it’s not your fault, but I guess I forgive you if that makes you feel better.”

Eddie gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wincing at what felt like every other word.

“Shit, Steve, it’s -- Shit,” he cursed as he sloshed some of his coffee over the brim. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was curled in on himself. “I didn’t sit them down and tell them to stop talking to you. That -- no way that would work. You’re right. They wouldn’t just -- Like I said, they’re crazy about you. It’s more, it’s all of the, I told them about how ever since -- shit. Look, it doesn’t matter why or how I did it, just trust me, I’m the reason. It’s my fault, and I fucked up, and I didn’t mean it to make -- but you left, and it’s killing them, and so you gotta forgive them, at least talk to them, cause its not their fault.”

“Yeah,” Steve stalled, “still don’t get why you think this is on you, dude.”

“At the beginning it -- shit, no. Doesn’t matter. Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t make this about that. Okay. I asked them not to invite you if I was around, cause I wasn’t -- I didn’t want to see you, and then I made sure they were always around me because -- because I wanted them to. And then I, you know, kept poking at them about it when they’d bring it up, reminding them that you don’t like D&D and that you wouldn’t want to watch the new Star Trek movie, and when they said anything I just kept telling them that -- Shit, just believe me. I’m the one that made them do this, it’s my fault, it’s not them.”

Okay, so Eddie was pushier since Spring Break than he was before it. Or the kids listened to him more. Or they were trying to take care of him. So Eddie was the prompt for them cutting him out of everything. Fine.

Still didn’t make it the guy’s fault. 

Steve got close with Robin after she found out about the Upside Down. But he didn’t get close to Jonathan. Dustin became, for a while at least, his brother. Steve would die for Mike, but they didn’t hang out if it wasn’t a group thing. All of them were tied together, and any one of them could make a call, and everyone would come to help, but that didn’t make them all automatically into friends. 

God, Eddie looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown in a booth in a diner. 

“Look, it’s,” Steve spun his coffee cup, “you’re real close with the guys in your club right? The ones in your band?”

Eddie went tense, then nodded awkwardly.

“You’re close because of that stuff, though. Not just cause you had some classes together or were next to each other on a bus. You got pushed together for some random reason, but  that happened with a lot of people. But you had shared interests, right? You like that game, and you got bullied at school and you like the same loud screaming music. So you got to know each other, and you had a bunch in common, and so you guys are friends. You’re close, so even though you graduated, and you don’t have class and lunch together anymore, you’re still friends.

“Christ, Steve, no,” he protested. 

Steve ignored that and kept going.

“I never had that with the kids, or any of them. Shit. Never had that with Nance either, but I didn’t know it back then.” His inner Robin glared, and he stayed on topic. “It wasn’t as simple as sharing some classes, there were monsters and all that, but that’s what kept me and them around each other. No more monsters now, so.”

His stomach twisted, like it always did if he got too close to thinking about this. 

He only barely managed to talk about this with Robin, because when it was Robin he was honest, and when he was honest, really honest, he ended the night quiet and hurting and picking apart the past year trying to find what he could have done differently. Shoving all of that back into the dark of his mind, he conjured up a casual shrug and a smile. 

“I get that they’re probably freaking out right now, but they’ll get over it. Give it another month or two and it’ll be fine. Start one of your campaign -- your big story things and distract them if they’re bugging you about it.” 

He wiped up the coffee Eddie spilled on instinct, and shoved the napkin in his now empty cup. 

Time to get home and get a nap before he went to the stockroom that night. He wouldn’t see Robin until he picked her up for work, but they were scheduled alone, so he could talk all of this through then. Trying to pretend this day didn’t happen would last all of eight seconds of contact with his best friend. Maybe she could make sense of how he was feeling. 

“Wait, stop, you can’t leave yet.”

“Munson, I’ve been here since before dawn, I wanna leave.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to talk to them. They miss you.”

“They didn’t six weeks ago, did they? Or for the holidays? Or for the months before that, huh?” Steve finally snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry. Answer’s still no.”

He bussed their cups and the creamer to the pass through and grabbed his coat and gloves. Steam rose off Hopper’s truck where he had the engine running to keep warm. They exchanged a single nod before Steve turned towards the road to walk home. 

“Steve!” 

It wasn’t a shock to hear, but Steve had hoped that Eddie wouldn’t follow. 

“Okay, I get that you’re not going to just forgive them, and that you don’t want to talk to them, but--”

“No. I don’t. And I know you think this is your fault, and I’m telling you it’s not, and I told you, I’m not mad at you about this. We weren’t friends. I’m not mad at you for not wanting me around or whatever. That’s fine. And? They’ll get over it, and everyone can just move on with their lives with the people they actually like.”

Steve’s stupid voice betrayed him, cracking, and he cut off the rest of what he might have said. Anger was the fastest way to shut down weakness, and it was easy for him to sink into it.  

Eddie had his hands in his hair, clutching at it near his temples, looking borderline hysterical. 

“Would you at least listen if they talked?”

“They don’t have my phone number, and if you tell them where I live, I’ll send Mrs Buckley after you. And Hopper.”

“You could call them.”

“No.”

It wasn’t about who placed the call. If he heard them, if they said a fraction of what he wanted to hear, he’d cave, immediately and entirely, and then both the real life Robin, and the mini Robin in his brain would give him hell. 

“Steve come on, something, anything. Letters? If they write letters?”

“I’m not giving them my address, and Hopper already asked about mailing stuff through him instead. No.”

It was cold and he was tired. Just about the only person in the party that he didn’t care had abandoned him was trying to pull Steve back into the vat of slow simmering pain he was still climbing out of. 

“Look, Eddie --”

“I’ll drive them. The letters. You don’t even have to answer, or read them. Let me tell them that I can bring you letters, and I’ll drive them up here. If you do want to answer I’ll wait and then drive whatever it is back. As many times as you want.”

“Come on, man.”

“I won’t even -- I don’t have to know where you live, or your number, anything. I can come here. To the diner. Won’t even come inside, just drop them off and wait. You won’t have to talk to me, or see me. Just, come on. Even if you never forgive them, or answer them, let them have this. Even if you don’t read what they say, let them think they got to apologize.”

The wind shifted, and Steve tucked his chin into his coat to wait it out. 

Eddie was shivering two steps away, gloveless hands shoved under his arms, hair tangling into more of a mess than usual. 

“That’s a stupid idea, Munson,” he said when the gust stopped, “If they know that you know where I am, and you don’t tell them, they’re going to hate you. They’d drive you insane trying to get you to tell them, and they’d be horrible the whole time. They already ditched me for you, so, don’t make them hate you too.”

“They already hate me.” The response was immediate and defeated.

“Dude, they don’t.”

“They do. They figured it out a few weeks ago. That I was the reason. Just cause you don’t get it doesn’t mean they don’t. This is my fault. They already hate me. They won’t even talk to me long enough to yell. They act like I don’t exist.”

“Christ, Munson, is that why you’re up here, freezing your ass off in a parking lot and bitching at me? So you can get them to like you by getting me to talk to them?”

Eddie flinched. Didn’t say anything for a minute as he shivered with wide eyes. Then, without any of the dramatics the guy was known for, “Please, Steve. Even if you throw them out right after. Let them write to you, and let me tell them the truth when I say you got them. I think they can survive if they don’t hear back. They’ll blame me, but that’s fine, they should. The silence is what’s killing them. They need to say how -- they need to believe that you heard how sorry they are.”

It was so fucking cold it was making Steve’s eyes water. That was the only reason for it. The cold front that came in overnight.

“I’m not gonna promise to read them,” he caved.

The tension collapsed out of Eddie, and he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I work here in the mornings Monday through Wednesday every week. You should drop them off then. M’not saying I’ll read them, or write anything back, but if they want to write, fine.” 

Eddie nodded over and over, hiding behind his hands, and whisper-mumbling something that Steve couldn’t catch. He was shaking again. The kind of full body wracking that meant the cold was sinking deep.

“Christ, go get in Hop’s truck before your fingers freeze off or something.” 

Without waiting for a response, or checking that he listened, Steve turned and kept walking. Another gust of wind tore through him, loud enough that he wouldn’t have heard another call of his name. It was a good thing that John messed up the big combo that morning, and Steve had eaten it during the lull after breakfast. He wasn’t going to manage anything else until tomorrow at the earliest. 

That was assuming Robin didn’t kill him on the spot for his stupid, stupid decision. 

Ten steps down the road, and he already regretted it. Even if he didn’t read anything, even if they never sent anything, the choice would sit like a rock in his gut; a new ache, a new bruise, and Steve was dumb enough that he’d keep poking at it. 

---

I'm sad that this is two chapters without Robin. That's some kind of a crime. Can guarantee that Robin has Strong Opinions about this when she talks to Steve that night.

I don't do tag lists or regular updates, and I have no shame about that.

>>>>>Part Six

[callahanisms]

body talk

seeing challengers was a mistake guys because all i can think about is challengers and how much i love challengers and how cinema is back after people declared the death of cinema like three years ago and how much i wanna go see challengers again—

anyways uhhhh did challengers make me hop onto the mike faist train? yes. because i love a man that clearly worships his wife and kisses boys.

character: art donaldson

for vibes: "physical" by olivia newton-john

context: stanford university. 2007.

if you had a choice, you wouldn't be working as a receptionist in the gym. instead, you'd work in the infirmary. it was more in line with your desire to pursue sports medicine.

your father himself was an athlete who sustained a career ending injury and went into sports medicine. you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

but for now, you were working as a receptionist at the gym for your federal work study. college wasn't going to pay for itself unfortunately and your parents could only provide so much support.

art donaldson recognized you while you guys were at a party. "you're the person at the desk in the gym!" he sounded so excited. almost like a puppy.

"yeah..." you look down at your red solo cup. "you're like a regular. with tashi duncan."

"you know her?"

"well, i've talked to her a few times. she's great." who wouldn't like her honestly? you weren't the biggest fan of tennis but whenever tashi duncan played, she always managed to make it magical.

"you're also in my bio class, right?"

"you're in my bio class?"

"oh don't tell me you didn't notice."

you shrug. "i didn't. you're not very...noticeable, i guess."

art took personal offense to that statement.

okay not entirely. because to some extent, you were right. he wasn't as noticeable as some of the other people in class, like the lacrosse player on the guys team or the girl from the basketball team, both of whom you seem to be close with.

growing closer to art was just a matter of being in a lot of classes together, something you didn't realize during the first month of college.

to be fair, it was a lot.

but the good thing about having a lot of classes with him was that it meant you always had a go to person for group projects. and god were professors adamant about assigning group work.

at the very least, you had a workout buddy when you guys were free. sometimes, you were even joined by tashi duncan. so it was cool to be able to work out with a famous tennis player.

perhaps the gym is where you started to notice art's...physicality.

he wasn't entirely imposing, aside from being quite tall. but he had a surprising amount of muscle. perhaps the tank tops he wore didn't help much. it left little to the imagination.

because of your familiarity with the body and your desire to go into sports medicine, art called you when he was feeling a bit sore.

he opens the door with a smile, seeing you with your bag and clementines. "what's the fruit for?"

"just in case you get hungry." you step in and remove your shoes. "just lay down."

"bed or floor?"

"whichever you prefer. the bed might be more comfy. we'd have to move stuff around if you were on the floor. oh and take off your shirt."

"what?" he could feel his cheeks beginning to heat up.

"take off your shirt. a massage won't be that effective with your shirt on."

"alright. umm..." art just does what you ask of him, taking his shirt off and setting it aside on his desk chair. he gets on the bed and lays down, front side down.

you pull out a bottle of lotion and crawl onto the bed, straddling him at his waist. you are unaware of how red he is feeling you against him.

you feel around his back for bit, asking him where in particular is tight. once you got a good idea, you squirt some lotion onto your hands, rub it a bit, then begin to massage.

art would be embarrassed from the sounds that came out of him. but he was craving for the relief from his overworked and tired muscles. he could feel just how deep your hands went in, twisting and rubbing. your hands felt so good. they glided smoothly and your touch soothed him greatly.

"damn dude. when was the last time you massaged yourself?"

"don't know." he mutters, burying his lower face into his own pillow. he could feel himself growing warmer all over his body.

your palm pressing into him, dragging itself through his muscles, rubbing baby lotion into his skin so he's soft.

your hand reaches a part of his lower back, your palm rubbing through the muscle. and he moans.

you stop for a moment. "something wrong?"

"no...nothing's wrong..." he mutters.

"you sure?"

"yes. keep going."

he enjoys the way your hands move lower, and lower. he wants them to sneak to the front. massage him a different way.

your hands linger on a particular spot of his back though, feeling the defined muscle. there's something particularly...satisfying, about running your hands over his body. you were tempted to feel more. especially his arms.

art's arms were utterly gorgeous, as if sculpted out of marble by a renaissance artist themselves.

"i think you're all good."

"all done already?" he smelled like baby lotion. whatever that mean.

"unless you want me to massage elsewhere." you get off of him and he turns on his side to look at you.

the tank top you were wearing was a little bit tight.

art gently grabs your wrist. "magical hands you know."

"it's beneficial to learn how to massage. for your own betterment and health. though i will happily help you with the spots you can't reach."

he rubs circles into your wrists. "are they tired?"

"a little. it was because i took an exam yesterday. writing in those blue booklets is absolute torture."

"that's fair." his eyes flicker up to yours. the room was warm, the atmosphere right. "do you...like my body?"

"it's nice. you're very beautiful." you smile.

art pulls you forward, your legs hitting the wooden bedframe of the shitty college provided furniture.

"do you want to feel it?"

you bite your lip. "i think i do."

[pinkerthings]

the significance of mileven simply not understanding each other (pt 1):

(others have brought this up before but I think it’s a bit overlooked imo)

There are numerous times throughout Stranger Things where Mileven is shown to not be on the same wavelength, and the Duffers like to make it quite apparent to the general audience.

Starting with the obvious scenes:

“BLANK makes you crazy”

El is literally staring at Mike like she has NO idea what he’s trying to say.

Shes STILL confused even after he tells her it’s something old people tell each other:

Like girl…. i KNOW you were watching them soap operas and old timey romances during that year in Hopper’s cabin. You really expect us to believe you have no clue what he’s trying to say?

This scene was written like this on purpose for two reasons: comedic effect and diving deeper into mileven.

Back to not ever being on the same wavelength:

I talked in this post here about Mike being okay with El standing up to bullies in the past when it came to Mike or Will, but Mike suddenly not understanding when it comes down to El defending herself against Angela, showcasing the idea that they are definitely not in agreeance over what happened at Rink-O-Mania.

The Duffers like to purposefully write Mileven out of step with one another.

It seems as though every season has something negative in store for the couple, and not in a fun, slow-burn agonizing romance type of way, but in the frustrating “why can’t they just work it out” kind of way.

Season 1 obviously has El “dying” and leaving Mike for a year, but on a smaller note also has Mike trying to explain to her that if she moved into his house, Nancy would be like her sister, but he would not be like her brother. She does not understand this, and has her classic confused face on.

Season 2 has her being gone and coming back to see Mike with Max, and even though nothing happened between the two of them, El was still cold to Max when they first met, showing even if El is incapable of knowing what the word “love” is, she still somehow knows what jealousy is.

Season 2 also brings us an interesting scene with Erica and Lucas, where the dialogue just seems….really off and random.

Lucas catches Erica playing with his He-Man action figure and gets mad, taking it from her. To which she says, “Hey! They’re in love!”

Lucas responds with:

The scene is extremely random and the dialogue is just weird to me, the only explanation it being a metaphor for something in the show, and the only viable explanation is Mileven.

Season 3 has the entire “boyfriends lie” side plot, resulting in El dumping Mike for lying to him about his grandmother after Hopper’s talk with him. Their relationship the entirety of season 3 is the epitome of immature pettiness caused by jealous and hormonal teenagers who don’t understand what being in a real relationship entails--

We get El and Max spying on the boys:

Eleven is a mystery to Mike, he pretty much says it himself.

Their whole relationship is based on immaturity, and the audience knows that. The audience can see that the two of are clearly immature and don’t have what it takes to be in a real, committed relationship. That’s the point. Their relationship in season three is almost entirely to move the plot around in whatever way the Duffer’s want, and to showcase the idea that their relationship in screen is nearly always shown in either a comedic, pre-teen immature light, or a jealous, misunderstood, and petty light. There is almost no stable relationship between the two of them in season 3. It’s either too clingy or too toxic or full of lies or immature, blah blah blah. The only scenes of them either not making out or fighting is the last scene of them together right before the Byers move, and that’s a whole scene in itself to unpack!

Season 4 is where things get a little chaotic, as if things weren’t chaotic enough.

There are so many miscommunications and misunderstandings with Mileven this season, but the big ones include:

El feeling like Mike thinks of her as a monster-

and Mike looking at her like she just spoke badly about his favorite Star Wars movie-

Directly after that we have Mike saying El is being "ridiculous" because she's upset that he won't tell her he loves her, and him calling her a superhero, the complete opposite of what she wants to hear in that moment, but Mike doesn't understand that, because who wouldn't want to be called a superhero? (his way of thinking)

Later on we get Mike recounting this to Will, saying, "and if I would have said that thing..." etc.

Mike can't even say that he loves El to other people, and we're expected to believe it's still true?

We also get this:

another misunderstanding on Mileven's part. El thinks Mike doesn't love her (at this point, does he?) so she finishes her letter the same way he has: From, El.

Next we have Will and Mike's conversation on top of the car:

"I think it's just scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel, especially to people you care about the most, because...what if they don't like the truth?"

I've said it before and I'll say it again,

why would El NOT like the truth if the truth is that Mike loves her?

Mike nods at Will's words and looks away, seemingly lost in thought. Why would he agree with Will---that it's hard for him to open up to El because she might not like the truth---if the truth is exactly what she wants to hear?

It literally makes no sense.

We also get the Byler van scene, where Mike compares her to a superhero yet again, something she clearly does not like (I don't have a vid but here's the official script, where he says the same thing):

Also El being Superman and him being Lois Lane in the analogy....okay.

Next we have him calling her a superhero YET AGAIN ! during his monologue:

Like girl if I was El I would just give up at this point. This is the last thing she wants to hear. She doesn't want to be a superhero all the time, she just wants to be a person ! a girlfriend ! a friend ! a daughter ! yet Mike is making it seem like the main reason he loves her is because she's a superhero, which she hates.

And lastly we have:

"Did she...talk to you at all?"

"Not much, I mean...a little bit."

Let me get this straight......you finally confess your love to your longtime girlfriend in the midst of her fighting a literal monster & monster from her past while she is being strangled and held captive all while she's also trying to save her friend from death, and she doesn't say anything to you for TWO days after?

Ladies...the Mileven break up is writing itself, really.

And that is a thread on how the Duffers intentionally write Mileven to be on different wavelengths with each other every single season without fail to showcase how incompatible they really are.

They are setting this relationship up to where you want more for both parties; El deserves to be loved the way she wants to be loved, and Mike deserves to be loved the way he needs to be loved (if u know what i mean)

In part 2 I will discuss the importance of byler understanding each other, juxtaposed to mileven hehe bye !

part 2 analyzing Mike & Will here !