Dec 10, 2022
me and who?? 😳😳😳
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me and who?? 😳😳😳
has anybody here played rain world's watcher dlc. everyone play the watcher right now.
my shovel knight hyperfixation is so back omfg
these two are my faves ik it’s very hard to tell 🌝
im pretty happy cuz i feel like ive gotten way better at drawing them ^^ WE , yes WE , love propellerking in this house
i still cant get over this fruity ass lil knife throw they made ghost do
I think the stress a few days ago gave me a super nasty art block. I havnt drawn since like. December please please please work with me brain
God seeing Graves name go from blue to red
Mr. Brightside jealous!Mike Wheeler x Reader
wc: 1.3k
summary: mike wheeler becomes consumed by jealousy when he misreads your friendship with Jason Carver as something more, spiraling into emotional turmoil he can’t control. When he finally confronts you, he admits his feelings and realizes his jealousy was rooted in insecurity and unspoken love rather than reality.
(this fic is based off the song mr.brightside lol + saw a robin buckley edit to this song hmm should i make a robin fic???👀)
mari's note: lit can barely find any mike fics lately so what do i decide to do..make my own!!! i also tried a new verison of writing, as im staying up more and more im trying to find ways to write faster and make my hands hurt less 💔and i thought the song mr. brightside was the perfect choice yk anyways lmk if u guys want more mike!!
Jealousy wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Mike had always imagined it as something simple. A passing annoyance. A brief irritation.
Not this.
Not the way his chest tightened every time he saw you with someone else.
Not the way he caught himself searching every crowded room for you before he'd even said hello to his friends.
Not the way he could spend an entire day convincing himself he didn't care—wait he didn't right..well whatever.
Only to watch you smile at another guy and feel his stomach drop straight through the floor.
It had started months ago, though Mike couldn't pinpoint exactly when.
Maybe it was during the countless nights in his basement, the air heavy with the sound of dice rolling and Dustin arguing too loudly about rules nobody actually followed. You always showed up without warning, like you belonged there more than half the party did.
Maybe it was the first time you stole his wristwatch mid-game just to tease him, laughing when he tried to grab it back.
Or maybe it was smaller than that. Something quieter. Something worse.
The way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.
Whatever it was, it had happened slowly.
So slowly Mike hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
Until everything felt different.
Until every accidental touch lingered too long.
Until every smile felt like something he was supposed to earn.
And now
Now you were standing across the hallway at Hawkins High, leaning against the lockers, laughing at something Jason Carver had just said.
Jason Carver.
Of course.
Mike’s grip tightened around the strap of his backpack.
He told himself to walk away.
He didn’t.
Jason said something else, something that made you laugh again, brighter this time, head tilting back slightly like you didn’t have a care in the world.
Mike felt it twist in his chest.
Stupid.
He turned sharply, forcing himself to move, to breathe, to think about literally anything else.
But his brain didn’t cooperate.
Because it kept replaying the same image.
You.
Him.
Close.
Too close.
The rest of the hallway blurred around Mike as he walked, like the world had decided to narrow itself down to that one moment.
He hated it.
He hated Jason for existing.
He hated himself more for caring.
And worst of all, he hated the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you were happier when he wasn’t around.
That night, the basement felt colder than usual.
The party was normal. Loud. Chaotic. Familiar.
Dustin was yelling about something involving the campaign. Lucas was arguing back. Someone had turned on music too loud.
But Mike wasn’t listening.
He was watching you again.
You were on the couch this time, sitting between Max and Dustin, knees pulled up slightly, laughing at something Lucas had said from across the room.
And just like earlier, Jason Carver was there too.
Standing too close.
Leaning in when he talked.
Mike felt his jaw tighten.
He told himself it didn’t matter.
That you could talk to whoever you wanted.
That it was none of his business.
But then Jason said something that made you smile in that softer way the one Mike didn’t think he’d ever seen directed at him and something in Mike snapped quietly.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to hurt.
He stood up too fast.
Dustin glanced at him. “Dude, where are you—”
“Bathroom,” Mike muttered, already heading upstairs.
He didn’t look back.
In the hallway, the house was quieter.
Mike leaned against the wall, trying to breathe normally.
It didn’t work.
His thoughts kept looping.
You laughing.
You leaning in.
You not looking at him.
He pressed a hand to his face.
“This is so stupid,” he whispered to himself.
Because it was.
It wasn’t like you were his.
You weren’t anything.
Just a friend.
Just someone who happened to matter too much.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Mike stiffened before he even turned around.
Of course.
Of course it was you.
“You okay?” you asked.
Your voice was calm. Soft. Concerned.
That made it worse.
Mike forced himself to look at you.
You were still smiling a little, but it had shifted like you’d noticed something was off.
“Yeah,” he said too quickly. “I’m fine.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I am.”
A pause.
You studied him for a second longer than he could stand.
Then you stepped closer.
That was the problem.
You were always stepping closer.
Like it didn’t affect him.
Like it didn’t rearrange something inside his chest every single time.
“You’ve been weird tonight,” you said gently.
“I haven’t.”
Another pause.
Then, quieter: “Is it me?”
That stopped him.
Mike blinked.
“What?”
“You’re avoiding me,” you said. “Or something. I don’t know. You just... you feel… distant.”
Distant.
If only you knew how close you actually were to wrecking him.
Mike looked away.
“It’s nothing.”
But his voice cracked on the last word.
Silence.
Heavy.
Then you sighed softly.
“I don’t like Jason like that, you know.”
Mike froze.
That wasn’t what he expected.
At all.
“What?” he said, turning back.
You shrugged slightly. “You’ve been staring at us all night like… I don’t know. Like something’s wrong.”
Mike felt heat rise in his face instantly.
“I wasn’t staring.”
You gave him a look.
He sighed sharply. “Okay, fine, maybe I was—but that’s not— I don’t—”
He stopped.
Because suddenly it all felt too loud in his head.
Too messy.
Too obvious.
You tilted your head slightly. “Mike…”
And that was it.
That was the moment everything he’d been holding in just… collapsed.
“I don’t like watching you with him,” he said, the words coming out faster than he meant. “Okay? I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it.”
You went still.
Mike swallowed hard.
“I know it’s stupid. I know it doesn’t matter. But I can’t.. can’t stop thinking about it, and I hate it, because I know I don’t have any right to feel like that, but I do.”
His voice dropped.
“I do.”
Silence again.
But this one felt different.
Less heavy.
More fragile.
You stared at him for a long moment.
Then you blinked.
“Mike,” you said slowly. “Jason and I are just friends.”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“But that’s not the point,” you added.
His stomach tightened again.
Of course.
Of course he ruined it anyway.
You stepped closer..again but this time it didn’t feel like torture.
It felt like something else entirely.
“Why do you care so much?” you asked quietly.
Mike’s throat went dry.
Because he couldn’t say it.
Not easily.
Not cleanly.
Not without feeling like he was jumping off something he couldn’t take back.
But he looked at you anyway.
Really looked.
And the truth came out anyway.
“Because it’s you.”
Your expression shifted slightly.
Confusion.
Then understanding.
Slow.
Careful.
Dangerous.
Mike exhaled shakily.
“I don’t know when it happened,” he admitted. “But I just—I can’t stop.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then you smiled.
Small.
Soft.
Different from earlier.
“You’re kind of terrible at this, you know,” you said.
Mike blinked. “At what?”
“Feelings,” you said simply.
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. I noticed.”
You stepped closer again, and this time Mike didn’t move away.
“This is a really bad version of Mr. Brightside,” you said lightly.
Mike frowned. “What?”
You shook your head. “Never mind.”
Then, quieter.
“You could’ve just told me.”
His heart stopped.
“I just did,” he said.
You smiled again.
And this time, it stayed.
Back in the basement later, the music was still too loud.
Dustin was still arguing.
Lucas was still laughing.
But Mike wasn’t watching you from a distance anymore.
You were sitting beside him now.
Closer than before.
And for the first time all night
The jealousy was gone.
Not because nothing had changed.
But because finally, something had.
credits 4 divider:
@ cursed-carmine
idk if the KPDH requests are getting annoying for you or not (im sorry if they are tho) but imagine this!
The dorm leaders + Jamil listening to reader/mc singing How it’s Done or Golden and are shocked/in awe at their high notes
Riddle Rosehearts
At first, Riddle assumes you’re just humming to yourself and doesn’t pay much attention.
Then you hit that first high note and his head whips around so fast it’s almost comical.
He’s frozen for a second—like he’s processing the fact that you, the person he’s seen trip over magical theory vocabulary before, are pulling that off.
When you finish, he’s standing there with a faint blush, hands folded in front of him.
“That was… remarkable. You could very well be invited to sing at the Queen’s Garden Party with talent like that.”
Leona Kingscholar
He’s lounging in the corner, eyes closed, probably pretending to nap while you’re singing.
The first high note? One ear twitches. Second? He cracks an eye open.
By the third, he’s fully alert, leaning back with a smirk that can’t hide the fact he’s impressed.
“Tch… didn’t think you had that in you, herbivore. Guess you’re full of surprises.”
You’ll catch him humming the chorus later when he thinks no one’s listening.
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul is mid-contract negotiation when he hears you from across the Lounge.
His pen actually pauses in his hand, and his eyes widen slightly—he almost forgets the poor student still sitting there waiting for an answer.
He composes himself quickly but the sparkle in his gaze betrays him.
“My, my… that range. You could make a killing in the entertainment business, you know. Perhaps we could… come to an arrangement?”
He will try to book you for a Mostro Lounge performance.
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim lights up the moment you start.
By the high note, he’s on his feet clapping along like you’re already at a concert.
“That was AMAZING! Do it again! Wait—can I record it? No, no, can we get a band? We need fireworks! Confetti!”
You’ve created a monster. Expect him to hype you up to literally everyone.
Jamil Viper
Jamil knows talent when he hears it, but he also knows Kalim will latch on and never let go if he reacts too much.
So when you hit those high notes, he internally is floored—but all he does outwardly is raise an eyebrow.
“Not bad… you’ve got control most trained singers don’t have.”
Later that night? He’s humming your song under his breath while cooking.
Vil Schoenheit
The moment you start, Vil’s attention is on you like a hawk—he’s judging posture, breath control, tone.
Then you hit that note. His eyes narrow, but in the pleased way.
“Mmh. I was not expecting such clarity in your upper register. That was… divine. If you keep practicing, I could make you the voice of a campaign.”
The “Vil seal of approval” is rare. Treasure it.
Idia Shroud
He’s watching from his tablet screen in his room, pretending to be coding.
The high note hits and he almost drops his stylus.
“Wha—wha—HOW?! That’s, like, Mariah Carey level—?! Cheat code for vocal cords??”
He immediately replays the clip three times. By the fourth, he’s already thinking about remixing it into a game soundtrack.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus is quietly listening from the shadows—he tends to do that.
When you soar into the high register, his eyes close and his expression softens, almost reverent.
“Such a voice… reminiscent of the fae choirs of my youth.”
You’ll never know this, but he’s comparing you to the most talented singers of Briar Valley—and finding you worthy.