Dlaczego jak słyszę rozmowy ludzi mam wrażenie, że mówią o mnie? Jak słyszę ich śmiech, czuję, jakby śmiali się ze mnie. Jakby obserwowali każdy mój ruch. Gdy na mnie patrzą czuję, jakby znali każdy mój sekret, każdą brudną tajemnicę. I mam ochotę uciec, albo ich wszystkich zajebać.
Okay but Steve figuring out how predictable Jonathan’s wardrobe is and he starts dressing just like him. Jonathan shows up to school and sees Steve wearing almost the exact same outfit as him and Steve is just grinning cheekily and Jonathan just “What are you wearing?” And Steve is like “Well this is embarrassing, one of us should change!” But neither of them back down and they just keep dressing alike and Nancy thinks it’s the funniest shit ever.
god I love the stranger things fandom, because everyone supports basically the same ships and if you have another ship then it’s so not problematic because all the characters are well-rounded individuals capable of having healthy relationships with fantastic narrative development and it’s beautiful and it’s almost 1am here and I’m feeling emotional
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” Nancy shakes her head, her arms crossed defensively and that little place between her eyebrows crinkled up. He used to think it was cute, but now it just tended to get annoying with how much it appeared when they fought.
“I’m angry because one minute we’re fighting and the next you’re over it. I’m not really one for grudges, Nance, but it’s giving me emotional whiplash.” He insists, and the girl sighs in agitation as she glares down at the pavement of the alleyway.
“Are we still on for tonight?” She asks, and Steve rolls his eyes.
“I’m not doing this, Nancy. You obviously aren’t in this anymore, and I haven’t been for a while either.” He turns around and rips his towel off his neck, storming out of the alleyway and back towards the track. The figure hunched on the bleachers turns to look at him hesitantly when he approaches, an eyebrow cautiously arched.
“Everything okay?” Jonathan questions, the hand holding his pencil twitching as he adjusts the notebook and textbook on his knees. He always sat out in the bleachers during track practice when he didn’t have work, an almost permanent fixture that kept Steve company.
“It’s nothing,” Steve waves him off, pointing up at the two backpacks balanced on the seats next to Jonathan’s feet. “Hand me my water, will you?” He asks, and Jonathan leans forward to pull the bottle out and toss it to him.
He drinks some and spills a little over his face, watching some of the other guys stretch in the middle of the grass while others were beginning to start up again. He glances back at the bleachers, where Jonathan is watching him carefully. Not judging or leering, like he might have once assumed, but caught in pensive thought.
“You free tonight?” He asks without thinking, and Jonathan blinks at him a few times. Either thinking or in shock, Steve watches him frown down at his notebook, expecting the usual excuse. Work, Will, school.
“Yeah,” The younger teen nods his head, and Steve smiles for real for the first time in weeks.
“We’ll watch some movies and order pizza, my parents are gone.” He offers, and Jonathan nods his head once more, quiet and still thoughtful, but the hint of a smile on his face.
“Harrington, stop chatting up the queer before you catch something!” One of the guys on the team shouts from across the track, he flips the guy off and sighs. When he turns his head back to Jonathan, any traces of a smile are gone, and he’s back scribbling on his notebook.
“Don’t listen to them, dude. Besides, what’s wrong with being queer?” He shrugs his shoulders, setting the water bottle down at the bottom of the bleachers and turning to race back onto the track. He can feel Jonathan’s eyes staring at him the rest of practice, but as always, he escapes before Steve leaves the dressing room. Gone with the wind like a mysterious loner, Steve smirks to himself as he walks to his car,
El’s favourite part of practicing and improving her reading and writing is running to the mailbox on weekday mornings to find letters from her friends that she’ll spend the day responding to. It helps her feel connected to them and the things they’re learning during the hours they spend in school.
Request: “Can I get a request for Mike from stranger things? Something really cute? +I requested the cute Mike! Can you make it about him being so busy with something, and the reader wants his attention. So he surprises her? Im sorry I am not good with stuff like this.”
Warnings: None :)
A/N: I love Mike so much but this sucks
“Hey Mike!” Y/n greeted, seeing her boyfriend in the hallway.
“Oh! Hey Y/n! Um, I’m really busy. I’ll talk to you later, though.” Mike smiled, kissing her cheek quickly and running off.
Y/n frowned. It was the third time this week that he had blown her off!
She knew that he, Dustin, and Lucas had been looking for Will whenever they got the chance, but it still hurt whenever he kissed her cheek and ran off.
Y/n sighed, walking out of the school.
Y/n quickly bid goodbye to her mother, hoping on her bike and riding to Mike’s house.
She decided to visit him and confront him about blowing her off.
When she arrived, she quickly knocked on the front door, pulling her jacket closer to her to shield herself from the cold air.
Mike’s mother opened the door and smiled.
“The boys are in the basement.” Mrs Wheeler smiled, letting Y/n inside.
“Thanks, Mrs Wheeler!” Y/n called, walking down to the basement.
The boys’ eyes widened when they heard footsteps walking down the stairs.
“Hide her!” Mike whispered harshly to Lucas and Dustin.
They were too late, however, when Y/n made her way down the final step.
Her eyes widened when she saw Eleven sitting in the blanket fort that Mike had made.
“Woah. Who’s this?!” Y/n turned her attention towards Mike, gesturing towards El.
“Um, Y/n meet El. El, this is my girlfriend, Y/n.” Mike smiled sheepishly.
“Friend?” She asked Mike, looking at Y/n.
“Friend.” Mike confirmed, smiling at Y/n.
“It’s nice to meet you, El.” Y/n smiled.
She gently pulled Mike aside.
“This is why you’ve been blowing me off?!” Y/n frowned.
“I-I’m really sorry, Y/n! I didn’t mean to ditch you.” Mike sighed.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Mike nodded.
“You better, Wheeler. I’m gonna get going.” Y/n forced a small smile and kissed Mike gently.
Mike pulled away, his face bright red.
“Bye guys! Bye El!” Y/n bid, walking back up the stairs.
The next day, Mike decided to surprise Y/n. He gathered up a couple movies and biked to her house.
Y/n smiled when she opened the door and saw Mike.
“I told you I’d make it up to you.” Mike grinned, holding up the bag of movies.
Y/n grinned, pulling Mike towards the living room.
Bardzo polubiłam taki stan relaksu, właściwie wpadłam w niego zupełnie. Szłam taka lekka, świeże powietrze wpadało mi do płuc, uśmiechałam się do przypadkowych ludzi. Już nie wychodziłam na ulicę jak na ring, wychodziłam jak we śnie, choć wszystko docierało do mnie doskonale, albo zniekształcał tak to mój umysł, umysł w którym myśli żadnych nie było poza chwilą obecną, gdzie wszystko piękne było, otulało mnie ciepłem.
Potem proszki miały oczywiście przestać działać i spadłam w chaos, depresyjno-nerwicowy stan bezsilności.