#miscommunication trope

[dirty-dianas]

Nicolandria, thank you for giving me the pure stuff to inject.

[heldbybarnes]

Imagine being upset Bucky didn’t know how long you’d been married or forgot your wedding anniversary only to find out his confusion stems from him thinking of you both as a married couple since the day you met and always counting since then (not that he’s ever told you incase you think it’s weird) but eventually he does because he can’t have you thinking he doesn’t care.

What if he went straight out and bought a ring the day he met you? He just knew.

You know something is wrong the second he hesitates.

It’s small—so small most people wouldn’t catch it. But you know him. You know the way his metal fingers still for half a breath when he’s caught off guard, the way his brows pinch just slightly when he’s trying to remember something he thinks he should know.

“How long’s it been now?” you ask lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter while he dries a plate. “Since we got married.”

You’re smiling when you say it. Teasing, mostly. You’d been flipping through old photos earlier—your wedding day, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that had ever made sense in his entire life. The anniversary’s tomorrow. You’ve been thinking about it all week.

He pauses.

The dish towel stops moving.

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

“Uh,” he says, and the sound is careful. Measured. “Three years?”

Your smile falters.

“Three?” you repeat softly.

He sets the plate down too slowly. “Four?”

You don’t mean for it to hurt. You don’t. But something inside your chest drops heavy and cold.

“It’s five, Buck.”

The kitchen feels suddenly too quiet. Too still. The hum of the refrigerator is loud in the silence between you. He looks at you like you’ve just told him something impossible. Like you’ve corrected him on a fact he knows in his bones.

“Five?” he echoes, frowning.

“Yes. Five.” You cross your arms without meaning to, the motion defensive before you can stop it. “June eighteenth. Five years tomorrow.”

His eyes flicker away.

And that—more than the number—makes your throat burn.

“You forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” he says quickly, too quickly.

You huff a humorless laugh. “You didn’t know.”

His shoulders tense. “That’s not—”

“You didn’t know, Bucky.” Your voice wobbles now, and you hate that it does. You hate that this matters enough to make your eyes sting. “It’s our wedding anniversary.”

He stares at you like you’ve just accused him of something unforgivable. And maybe you have. Because this is the man who memorizes the way you take your coffee. The man who still traces the shape of your engagement ring when you’re half asleep. The man who can recall entire mission briefings from ten years ago with photographic precision.

But five years of marriage?

He’s confused.

You swallow hard. “I didn’t think it was something you’d forget.”

“I didn’t forget,” he says again, more firmly this time—but there’s something strained underneath it. Frustration. Not at you. At himself.

“Then why didn’t you know?” you whisper.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Runs his flesh hand through his hair.

And then—softly, like he’s stepping off a ledge—he says, “Because that’s not when it started.”

You blink.

“What?”

He looks at you like he’s bracing for impact. “That’s not when we started being married.”

Your heart pounds, anger tangling with confusion. “Yes, it is. That’s literally what a wedding is.”

He shakes his head, slow and stubborn. “No. That’s when we had the ceremony.”

You stare at him.

And for the first time, you see it. There is no world where Bucky doesn't care about your wedding day.

“Buck,” you say carefully. “What are you talking about?”

He exhales hard through his nose. Paces once. Twice. Like he’s trying to find the right words and they keep slipping out of reach.

“I count from when we met,” he mutters finally.

You go still.

“What?”

His jaw clenches. “I count from the day I met you.”

The words hang in the air between you.

“You—what?”

He gestures vaguely, frustrated. “We were already… it was already you. From that day. I knew. So I just—” He shrugs helplessly. “That’s when I started counting.”

Your brain struggles to catch up. “Counting what?”

“How long we’ve been married.”

You stare at him like he’s just spoken another language.

“You didn’t tell me that,” you say faintly.

“Yeah,” he snaps, immediately regretful. He drags a hand over his face. “Yeah, because I figured you’d think it was weird.”

Weird.

You think about that first day. The coffee shop. The way he’d watched you like he was memorizing you. The way he’d walked you to your car even though it was broad daylight. The way he’d looked startled when you’d joked about “marrying a stranger.”

“You’ve been counting since then?” you ask.

He nods once. Reluctant. Embarrassed. “Thirteen years,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches.

Thirteen.

You’ve been together ten. Married five.

He’s been married to you—in his heart—for thirteen.

“I just… I don’t separate it,” he says, voice low now. “You weren’t my girlfriend. Not really. Not in my head. You were my wife. I just didn’t have the paperwork yet.”

Your chest feels tight in a completely different way now.

“So when I said five,” you murmur, “you thought I was wrong.”

He gives you a small, sheepish nod. “I thought you were testing me.”

You blink, and then despite yourself, a shaky laugh escapes you. “Testing you?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Thought maybe you forgot the first eight.”

You stare at him.

And then your eyes fill for an entirely different reason.

“Bucky,” you breathe.

He steps closer instinctively, like he can’t stand the distance anymore. “I wasn’t dismissing it,” he says urgently. “I wasn’t forgetting. I swear to God, doll, I wasn’t forgetting you. I just— I’ve never thought of June eighteenth as the start.”

Your voice trembles. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He hesitates.

Because you’d think it was weird.

Because he’s always afraid of being too much. Of loving too intensely. Of holding too tightly.

“Didn’t want you thinking I was… I don’t know. Crazy,” he says finally.

You step into him before he can finish the thought.

He catches you instantly, arms wrapping around you like they were made for it. Like they’ve always known where to go.

“You absolute idiot,” you whisper into his shirt, and your voice is thick with tears and laughter all at once. “You thought that would make me think you cared less?”

“I didn’t want you thinking I didn’t care,” he murmurs fiercely into your hair. “I can’t have you thinking that.”

You pull back just enough to look at him.

“Thirteen years?” you ask softly.

He nods.

“And you never told me.”

“Figured it was safer in my head.”

You cup his face, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“I married you five years ago,” you say gently. “But I’ve loved you for thirteen.”

Something in his expression breaks open. Soft. Vulnerable.

“So,” you continue, wiping at your cheeks with a watery smile, “tomorrow is five years of marriage.”

He nods.

“And thirteen years of you being secretly insane.”

A huff of laughter escapes him, relief flooding his features. “Yeah. That too.”

You lean up and kiss him slow and certain.

“And for the record,” you murmur against his lips, “that’s not weird.”

His arms tighten around you, like he’s anchoring himself.

“It’s the most Bucky thing I’ve ever heard.”

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes soft and shining.

“Thirteen years,” he whispers.

“Thirteen,” you agree.

“And five.”

“And five.”

He smiles then—small, private, certain.

Because in his mind, you’ve always been his wife.

He just finally let you know.

[redheadedflag]

i stand by the miscommunication trope like nothing else.

LIKE YES GIVE ME THE ANGST THE DRAMA I WANT IT TO GET SUPER MESSY (+points for detailed description of jealousy) but at the end of the day the two characters should sort it out and realise how stupid they were in misinterpreting something because thats the beauty of it.

(pls send recs)

[teambyler]

The Duffers REVERSED the romantic Miscommunication Trope for Mike and El (Milev*n)

Anti Bylers like to say Milev*n has been "built up" for 4 seasons.

But what about the fact that one of the most common romantic TV tropes -- the Miscommunication Trope -- was REVERSED for Mike and El?

The Miscommunication Trope is when 2 potential romantic partners misunderstand each other and thinks the other is NOT interested in them. He runs through the rain with flowers to propose to the love of his life, only to see a man he's never met before leaving her house as he arrives. (Of course, it turns out to be her brother or something.)

OH NO! the audience groans, as we are made to wait EVEN longer for this "Will they or won't they?" couple to finally get together.

From TV Tropes:

We also know that the Painting Lie is another instance of the Miscommunication Trope to build up BYLER.

The Miscommunication Trope was once PROPERLY used for Mike and El in s2, El chances upon Mike just as he is getting along with Max, and thinks Mike has a new girlfriend:

Mike and El officially get together at the end of s2/start of s3. Then the TWO "big steps forward" in their relationship are based on the Miscommunication Trope being reversed.

Each time, Mike and/or El ascribes MORE romantic meaning onto something they hear than actually was there.

In s3, Mike blurted out "I love her" to OTHER PEOPLE and which simply said he didn’t want to lose her, which El OVERHEARS. El then relates it back to the soap operas she watched in Hopper's cabin and interprets this as conventional romantic love, and she doesn't think about the fact he didn't actually tell her. Based on this, she later tells him that she loves him, too:

Mike is evasive, because what he'd meant was probably NOT what El thinks: she had died saving his life in s1, and he wasn't about to lose her again. His panicking to other people was not a love confession.

Then in s4, Will ascribes his own feelings to El. It's like s3 but the roles are reversed: Mike believes El sees him more romantically than she actually does, and he says "I Love You" in return:

We don't know what El is thinking afterward. She might be over Mike, or she accepts his "confession" -- as forced as it was -- and is hanging on to the shred of their relationship. If it's the latter, then it is AGAIN the Miscommunication Trope working in reverse, for a third time.

The reason the majority of viewers don't see this is because the miscommunications are fooling them as well! (Not just Mike and El.)

Milev*ns like to say Mike and El have been "built up." But the trope is usually to make clear to the audience that two people love each other more than they know and to show it’s unresolved. THAT is “buildup.” No, this is the opposite: Mike and El got TOGETHER at the end of s2 and the Duffers SUBVERTED a popular romantic trope to show their relationship BREAKING DOWN.

This isn’t “buildup”; it’s setting up a demolition. If it’s building anything, it’s a house of cards.

-teambyler

[head-locked]

miscommunication trope being my top ragebaiter yet one of my most read type of fics

[velvet4510]

The thing is in all their s4 talks about El, Will thought Mike was asking him for encouragement in how to save his relationship with El, when in fact Mike wanted Will to give him the absolution to break up with her. I mean, for Mike to tell Will “I didn’t know what to say” when he knew exactly what El wanted him to say, how else am I supposed to interpret this?

[boredfandomchild]

pt 3 of touch starved cleaner Jabber

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 4 - pt 5

fic sneak peek

ao3 fic has begun 🖤

"I'm just saying I know what it's like."

"Really?" Jabber couldn't imagine Zanka being ignored by anyone.

"Yeah," He nodded. "Before I joined the cleaners."

Jabber realized he had no idea where he came from. Where any of them did. He supposed no one was born into the cleaners. So what was Zanka's story?

"I remember when only violence was used. When anything other than coldness and harsh words were weakness. When masking what made ya human became part of the uniform." Zanka turned to Jabber and looked in his eyes then. "When the Hell Guard thought they owned me."

Jabber gaped at him. Then laughed, "shit man, no wonder you're uptight! You came from the fucking hell guard?!"

"You think that's funny, wait until you hear who my family is." Zanka said with distaste but his eyes softened at Jabbers laugh. "I'm just saying I know what it's like... to be confused about... everything."

"Confused?"

"About love."

"Who said I was in love?"

Zanka put his hands up. "No one, but when you haven't experienced genuine care from people then it can get... confusing. You might think you're in love, or get a crush, read into it too much and do something stupid."

Jabber leaned closer. Zanka's face was lightly flushed.

"So who made you stupid?"

Zanka's face reddened. He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Don't... don't make fun of me. Its fucking embarrassing."

Jabber crossed his heart, fully intending to break the promise. Zanka glared at him like he knew. He told him anyways.

"Enjin."

"No way." Jabber laughed. He supposed Enjin was attractive but way too old for either of them.

"Shut up!" Zanka shoved him. "I said it was stupid and embarrassing."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jabber caught his breath and cleared his throat. "Continue."

"He... he just was the first one to really show me positive attention. The praise, the hair ruffles, and so on. I developed a crush and..."

"Don't tell me you came on to him."

"I didn't really have to. It was obvious. He made it clear that nothing romantic would ever happen. I was mortified, and scared I'd be kicked off the team, or worse from the cleaners. But after that, nothing really changed. I mean he encouraged I make friends my age, which I did, and I realized how stupid I'd been. I was looking for love in the wrong place. Confusing my feelings."

"I see." Jabber had sobered up some. He realized how vulnerable Zanka was being. It was weird. No one ever trusted him.

Then he realized why Zanka had told him.

He thought Jabber was developing a misguided crush on him. He was letting him down easy.

Jabber could have thrown up right then and there.

"Well, don't worry about me." Jabber shrugged, trying to be calm while his heart raced. "I'm not falling in love or getting all soft."

"Right." Zanka said. "Too smart for that."

"Exactly."

"We should get some sleep." Zanka pushed off the railing.

"Yeah, okay, good night." Jabber watched his back as he climbed off the roof.

He could take the rejection. Just a stupid crush. Some day they'd laugh about it, just like with Enjin.

Jabber stayed on the roof for the rest of the night.

----

zanka you wanna kiss him so bad it makes you stupid. I can't believe I'm writing miscommunication trope

might make this convo longer in the actual fic

[lenessence]

𖦹 change

sometimes when a relationship ends on bad terms, it's not the wrong person, it's just the wrong time. when the right time does come around, do you take it or let that fear win again?

note : i liked this one!! it lowkey healed some in me and i finally did some writing with a misunderstanding trope i didn't absolutely hate.

‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ my masterlist‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ wc. 2116

steve harrington used to be predictable. there was many names for the type of person he was, and many people able to vouch for his character. you happened to be one of those people, along with a line of other girls still picking up the pieces of their broken hearts.

lately something is different. you'd never believed that steve would ever change, not in 20 years, and certainly not right out of high school. when you started working at the coffee shop across from the ice cream store where he worked, you have found yourself staring at him a lot when the work becomes slow.

aux ⟋ the promise by when in rome

he laughs, jokes, and hangs around a bunch of children, children it looks like the old steve would ignore or speak ill about. he holds the door for women and gives an extra scoop of ice cream to the elderly. you can't help but stare in complete and utter awe. it's as if he's a whole different person.

of course it's good news that he's grown and matured, but you can't help but hurt a little bit when you think about the breakup. back when you were only freshman, you didn't even know anything about love back then. you think about your relationship a lot. way more than he does, you're sure of that.

he hangs around with a girl at scoops ahoy a lot. you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt to see. you can only assume they're together with the way they laugh behind the counter and always share the same shifts, even if he is late most of the time.

you have to stop yourself from imagining. you see him almost every day and he probably doesn't even remember you exist.

"excuse me?" a lady calls from in front of you, forcing you to lay your gaze on her instead of the shop, and the man, far behind her.

you quickly regain your composure, "i'm so sorry ma'am, what can i get for you today?"

she then goes on to say the longest, the most complicated order you've heard in a long time. luckily it's a slow hour so you don't have a bunch of other drinks that will stress you out even more. she walks off in a huff and stands by the counter. you turn around and finally let go of your customer face to work on her order.

once you're finally done, you leave it at the desk and call out her name. she doesn't react, she just stares down at her phone screen. so it's going to be one of those days...

you decide to just leave it, she'll notice eventually. you let out a breath and stroll over to the register, ready to get back to staring at steve. it's not weird, he's just right where your gaze lies.

but somethings in the way of scoops ahoy, someone to be specific. you glance up at the tall figure and holy shit, it's steve harrington.

you swallow hard as he smiles the classic smile he gave you every morning back in freshman year. you struggle to keep your legs from wobbling.

"oh wow, [name], it's nice to see you," he practically mumbles, awkwardly. you didn't know he could do that.

you blink a couple times, making sure this is real, "oh hey... yeah, what can i get you?"

"just like, coffee?" he asks.

you press your lips together to stop from smiling, "yes that is what we have here."

he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "i'll get whatever you like, i trust your taste."

your smile faded. for a moment steve was just an old friend that could still manage to make you laugh, but that comment forced you to remember. the way he said it though, his words weren't vile or mocking, but a genuine comment. you look down at your hands. you don't say anything, and neither does he.

"excuse me? where's my coffee?" the woman from earlier grouches.

your emotion goes from a sad longing to a repressed rage. you glance her way and put on as fake a smile as you can, "your beverage is at the counter right over here, i called your name a little bit ago."

"obviously i didn't hear you," she reaches over and grabs it, "it's cold now."

you deadpan, "you ordered iced coffee, ma'am."

steve stifles a laugh next to you, winning a scary glare from the woman. she continues to just stand there, as if waiting for an elaborate apology and a gift box. steve rolls his eyes and looks her way. he raises an eyebrow.

"you got your drink right? so what's the issue?" he shrugs, eyes narrowed.

she looks him up and down, furrows her brows, and leaves with a huff. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. normally that situation would lead to you getting chewed up by a middle aged woman for 15 minutes.

he turns back to you, "so, what coffee do you like?"

you smile softly and nod, running some numbers through the register and getting to work, making your all time favorite coffee order. it isn't entirely something steve would like, but he asked, and it's the least you could do.

after a bit of him waiting behind the counter, staring at you. you haven't felt his eyes like that in a long time. it makes you feel on edge but safe. it almost makes you feel bad for the diabetic coma of a drink you're about to serve him.

he gives you some cash as you hand him the drink, your fingers brush against each other ever so slightly. electricity shocks through your skin, it's just friction.

he doesn't let you give him any change, but he doesn't leave either. he's trying to say something. you look up at him with eager eyes.

"do you want to go somewhere sometime?"

your first thought is yes, immediately yes. your lips even start to move in preparation to say it. but you don't. a thought sneaks its way into your mind, a memory. sitting on the curb of your house in the rain, waiting for steve to come pick you up. by the time he got there, the dance was long over and you couldn't hear any of his excuses. he's never on time, even now. he's supposed to be at work right now, even you know that. steve hasn't changed in the ways you need him to, not now and probably not ever.

do you want it to work out? yes, absolutely. do you think about it all the time? of course. does that change your fear? no, it doesn't.

deep down, you'll always be the girl in the soaked dress with no date and no ride to the dance. you'll never let the world have the chance to bring her out again.

"i'm sorry, i just can't, steve."

he frowns, "i'm the one who's sorry, [name]. i never should have..."

you look down at your feet wishing you could just sink into the tile flooring. he turns around to leave, but looks over his shoulder one last time.

"i want to explain myself, but im late to work," he chuckles softly, "if you want to talk, meet me at the loading dock at 6. its when your shift ends, if i remember correctly."

and just like that he's gone, leaving you with your jaw wide open. not only does he in fact know you still exist, he knows when your break is. steve always knows how to leave you speechless. you begin to question everything. what if he really has changed? what if you have too...?

time suddenly goes by extremely slowly, the minutes drag on and you absolutely do not look anywhere near scoops ahoy.

finally, it's 5:30 and you're done. you quickly throw off your apron in the back room and take a deep breath in an attempt to soothe your growing anxiety and shakey hands.

you throw on your coat from your locker and head outside through the employee exit. the walls feel tighter than they usually do and the fluorescent lights irritate your head.

when you push open the double doors to the back, you check your watch and it's exactly 5:55. it crosses your mind that it's an angel number, but you don't have the mental capacity to try to remember which one it is.

once the cool air meets your skin, you start to regret coming outside early. there's no way he's going to be here anytime soon, you'll be lucky if he even shows up by 6:15.

a figure waits over by the wooden crates. you recognize that outfit anywhere, it's him. he turns to face you at the sound of the door opening and he smiles that oh so famous smile.

"you're here," you mumble out.

"i am."

a tiny piece of you is satisfied, a tiny piece healed from that night at the dance. you slowly edge your way over to him, still keeping a safe distance.

"so, what did you want to talk about?"

he bites his lip, "i just want to start saying this isn't mean to be an excuse. what i did was wrong, and every decision i made after. i want you to know what happened that night, i want you to know i've changed."

you just stay quiet, listening intently. you don't have to say anything, your eyes tell it all and he continues.

"i don't talk about my family a lot," he chuckles awkwardly, "but my dad was a really heavy drinker. that night i was on my way to get you when i passed my dad stumbling around in the rain."

he flinches slightly as if this is extremely hard to admit out loud, "he had gotten into a wreck and didn't even realize it. i had to take him to the emergency room. by the time he got a room i made my way to you as soon as i could, i promise."

"but i was too embarrassed to explain why i was late."

your face falls. it all makes sense now, why he refused to explain anything, why it looked like he had been crying. if only you hadn't assumed it was the rain.

"i wish you could have trusted me, i would have never judged you."

he looks at his feet, "you were mad at me. i didn't want to cover it up with my issues and make you feel bad for being upset."

"i'm sorry," you look into his eyes softly.

he chuckles, "you don't have to be, that's why i didn't say anything."

you can't help but let out a small giggle, "right. i'm glad you told me."

he nods and smiles, going slightly quiet. you lean your hip on one of the wood pallet stacks, "so are you turning a new leaf and going to all your exes with apologies?"

he brushes the back of his neck shyly, "no, just you. when i saw you got a job at the coffee shop, i couldn't stop thinking about you," he mumbles the last part, "not that i could keep you out my mind before..."

"so this isn't just some redemption spiel?" you ask genuinely.

he shakes his head, "it's not, [name]."

you think back to how he asked to spend time with you earlier. was that more than just an awkward catch up? does he actually want to get to know you again?

"i'm not sure..." you mumble honestly.

he nods his head understandingly, "it's okay. ill wait, even if you're never ready."

your eyes snap up to his, reading his expression for its sincerity. all you see is true raw emotion, it almost hurts to see, like a sad lost puppy. you look down at your feet to keep yourself from just falling right back into his arms.

but you have to be brave. how will you ever heal if you don't try to?

"i'll try," you swallow hard, "you really do seem different, all the good is the same."

you smile sweetly at him almost nostalgically. even if it ended badly, you still have so many good memories with him. things you didn't even remember until you heard his laugh again.

he grins from one ear to the other and suddenly holds you by the waist, twirling you around in his arms. you naturally brace yourself against his shoulders. when he realizes how surprising that was, he quickly puts you down and lets out a breath.

"shit, that was stupid, i'm sorry."

you giggle, "apology accepted you goof."

do not reproduce, distribute, or use my work to train artificial intelligence, all rights reserved.

note : thank you for reading!! like and reblog to show the love <33

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