Is it just me or do other [fan]fiction writers have problems with disobedient characters?
Lik, you're trying to write an action or dialogue, but then that character that you're trying to write, just pops up in your head and is like "no"
And/or the character starts writing their own stuff for you, speaking and acting and just being like "I wanna do this" or "I'm gonna say this" or "I would totally react this way"
And then you just have to write it bc the character won't let you do it any other way?
Like, it's not you figuring what you want to write next or how you will write it, it's not you going "this works" or "eh, I don't like this"
It is literally the character just showing up and telling you what to do
okay, but anyone who genuinely thinks that Michael Wheeler is 100% head-over-heels in love with anyone other than Eleven must be watching a different show with a different Mike Wheeler bc that boy has got a serious case of heart eyes for that girl he found in the woods and no one else, yo
Snow Ball part of fanfic I was writing and finally put up
I wanted to finish this part of the mileven fanfic I was writing before season 2 came out and changed everything, so here it is. if anyone actually reads it, I hope you like it cos I haven’t written in ages. the rest is under the cut. :)
<3
It’s nearly time for the Snow Ball. Mike has absolutely no interest in going, not after endless, annoying prodding from his friends, not after his mom telling him multiple times that it will be his last chance to attend a Snow Ball (even though there’ll be at least four more once he reaches high school), not after the other parents, the police chief, his best friend’s brother, or anyone else in the town who needs to try to convince him.
It is Nancy, however, who is the to finally convince him to go. She even takes time before the dance to come up to his room and check up on him. They’ve been closer since the events of recent have happened. Although their mother calls to Nancy, telling her that her date is here and waiting for her. She wants Mike to go to the dance, to enjoy the coming of the end of the year with all his friends. She knows she’s hurting; and she knows how he really feels the friend he lost, even if he never told her outside of a sarcastic comment (“Yes, I like Eleven, you caught me, shut up.”). She knows what it’s like to lose someone you’re close to, and she knows the pain of having to move on, of not having that person come back. Perhaps that is why she’s the one who gets through to him. He reluctantly agrees. She asks if he wants a ride to the school. He declines this offer, though appreciated, he says he’d rather bike. He’d like to be alone for a little while. She decides not to point out that he’s been locking himself in either his room or the basement most of the days this past month.
He puts on the nice shirt and pants he’d been planning on wearing to the dance before the events. Also coming along with him is his backpack, stocked with his walkie, a hand-drawn map of the woods behind the Byers’ house, and a pair of Eggo waffles (Dustin had a point about always bringing provisions).
He meets his friends at the entrance of the dance, and they are so pleased to see him. When asked what made him change his mind, he just shrugs and says it’d be more fun to hang out with them than at home, alone. They accept it. It’s not as fun as it should be though, everyone keeps shooting him concerned looks, and they refrain from mentioning Eleven, the events, Eggo waffles, anything that they fear might send him storming away in depressed frustration. They know they didn’t know her as well as he did, and they don’t want to try to console him by trying to understand.
Mike leaves anyway. Halfway through the dance, he’s sitting on the entrance steps to the school, eating one of his waffles, and fiddling with the dials and knobs on the walkie. He’s been calling her every day, telling stories about what’s been going on. He flips the walkie on.
“Hey El. It’s day 348.” He pauses. “I’m at the Snow Ball right now. It’s not really that fun, kinda boring.” He wants to tell her he misses her. “I wish you could be here right now. Remember how we talked about going together?” He sighs and fiddles some more with the dials. “I’m sorry you couldn’t be here…” He sits in silence for a long while. His waffle sits half eaten by his side, and the walkie is forgotten in his mindlessly fumbling hands.
A trickle of static. It gets cut off as Mike continues to randomly flip the switch.
Another trickle, slightly louder this time. Mike hears it this time, and stares. The walkie sounds again. Turning the volume way up, Mike presses it to his lips.
“El?”
“Who is this? I think our streams are getting crossed.” It’s not a kid’s voice, it’s not a girl’s voice, and it definitely isn’t the voice of someone lost and probably afraid.
“Nevermind.” Mike replies, and then sighs in frustration and annoyance. He stuffs the walkie into his jacket pocket. “Stupid thing.” He mutters. His friends come out, looking for him.
“Dude, you gotta come back inside!” Dustin tells him excitedly. But before he can continue-
“What’re you even doing out here?” Lucas asks.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, right.” But Dustin cuts Lucas off with a glare, warning him to not dare mention ANYTHING about Eleven. They got Mike to show up, if Lucas says anything to send Mike packing, Dustin will lay into him for the rest of the night. Lucas rolls his eyes and changes topic.
“Make sure you get in there soon, you’re missing out on a pretty good dance.”
Mike nods, and the two make their way back inside. They don’t want to leave Will with everyone asking him how he got back for too long.
Mike leaves his bag on the steps and stands up, walking toward the trees. Might as well continue his search while he’s here.
“I know you’re out here, El…please, just give me a sign.”
“Mike.” It’s so quiet, he isn’t sure he even heard it. He stops walking, listening, waiting for it to happen again. A crackle of static.
“Mike.”
He frantically grabs for the walkie, pressing it to his lips again. “El?”
“Mike?” The static interferes, coming in louder now, but he can still make out the sound of his name.
“El!” He starts walking, fast now, further into the trees. “Where are you, El? I’m coming.”
He spends the next ten minutes speed-walking through trees, turning every which way, eyes straining to see in the fading light. But nothing is there.
“El!” He forgets about the walkie now, calling straight out into the woods. “El!”
Nothing is there. He turns a full 360, but nothing out of the ordinary catches his eye. His breathing becomes faster, heavier, desperate.
“Shit!” He hangs his head. “Come on, El, I know you’re there.”
Without a response, he kicks a tree in frustration, before turning to start heading back to the dance, dejected.
He reemerges to find his friends standing on the school steps, looking confused (Will), exasperated (Lucas), and disheartened (Dustin).
“What the hell are you doing, running off into the woods at night, all by yourself?” Lucas almost shouts. Dustin and Will shoot him worried looks, but he ignores them. “Is it worth it almost getting killed looking for someone you haven’t heard anything from in over a year?” Mike’s face flushes.
“I get it, Mike, but-“
“No, you don’t get it!” Mike retorts. “You have no idea-!”
“You’re being stupid!”
Dustin jumps in. “Both of you are being shitheads, so shut the hell up!” This brings silence to the group. He turns to Lucas.
“You need to lay off, and you-“ He turns to look at Mike, but stops midsentence. Mike glares at him expectantly.
“I what?”
Everyone is staring at the treeline behind him. Mike sighs in exasperation.
“What the hell are you all staring at?”
“You need to turn around.”
Mike’s face twists in confusion.
“What? What the hell are you-?” Then he hears it. His name again.
“Mike.” But it’s not coming from the walkie.
He turns, and realizes that it was not Dustin’s comment that made everyone stop talking. She’s standing there. Looking exactly as he had last seen her, although a bit more scraped up. Pink dress, his own jacket, those previously-white sneakers they had given her…
Still pretty.
She’s only got eyes for him.
“Uh…let’s go back inside, guys.” Will speaks up, and he and Lucas must practically drag Dustin in, shushing his excited whispers that he wants to see this reunion.
El walks forward. Mike can only stand still in shock.
She’s finally in front of him, and Mike realizes he’s crying. He blushes and turns his head in embarrassment, hastily wiping the tears away. She smiles.
“How did you…?” He can’t finish. She points to the walkie’s antennae sticking out of his pocket.
“I followed.” She explains simply.
“You heard me?” She nods. Still smiling, she adds, “I liked your stories.” It takes a moment to register with him. He just stares at her, before stumbling forward and locking her in a hug so tight, he’d worry he might break her. But he knows how strong she is. He feels her arms wind around him, hugging him back, just as tight.
He doesn’t know how long they stand there, he just knows that when his friends come back outside to interrupt them, it doesn’t feel like long enough.
Another set of arms appear around them, and without looking, Mike knows Dustin is now joining them, a wide smile taking over half of his face. Two more pairs of arms soon join as well, and the group of friends stands there, taking comfort in each other.
They finally break apart and look around at each other. Will looks happy and relieved, Dustin still has a wider-than-life grin on his face, and Lucas looks sheepish.
“Sorry, man.” He says.
“It’s okay.” Mike replies. Nothing more needs to be said.
“Shall we finally go back inside?” Dustin asks the group. Mike looks at El. She nods, a small smile gracing her face.
Mike and El don’t stop holding hands the entire night. They sit at the group’s table and drink some punch, then they go to the floor and everyone shows her how to dance. A few of the other students give her weird, slightly confused looks, but she doesn’t notice, and the guys don’t care. When they get tired, they go back to the table, and Mike tells her which songs are his favorite, what bands he likes, explains to her that the snow thrown around the gym is not real but just decorative, and other things that have been going on that didn’t make it into his stories. She grins as she listens excitedly, while also making small talk with the rest of the group. The night flies by.
The last dance of the night is, of course, a slow dance. Mike asks her if she wants to dance. She says yes. But this is a different kind of dance, so he must show her how to do it. Blushing all the way, he puts his hands on her waist. This brings a slightly shocked look to her face, but he says this is how you do a slow dance. Then he tells her to put her hands on his shoulders. She does so. It’s weird at first, but she likes it. Both their faces are now pink, but they are smiling.
Meanwhile, in the corner, the rest of the guys are having a field day at their table, mock slow dancing with each other, and making kissy-faces at the couple. El asks Mike what they are doing. Mike says they are being idiots. She laughs.
Me: I saw this notebook yesterday that was basically designed to look like it belonged to mike wheeler. Like, it had 80s stickers and his name on the front, and I wanted it SO BAD, but I didn't get it. Because I knew it would be empty on the inside.
okay, I think about this one a lot, because it always makes me smile and feel so happy
one of my very best friends and I went to our second Weezer concert. they start playing one of my favorite songs, Troublemaker, which I hadn't been expecting bc it didn't seem like one of their more popular/well known songs, and they hadn't played it at the first concert we went to.
anyway, I got SUPER fucking excited bc I love that song, so I start freaking out, jumping up and down and screaming and whatnot. and when he starts singing, I start singing along as loud as I can (basically sing-shouting), and I'm doing some weird kind of dance that's basically acting out each line of the song, like pantomime.
there's one lyric in the second verse that goes,
"I'm gonna play some heavy riffs and you will die/you wanted arts and crafts/how's this for arts and crafts?" and then he plays a guitar riff while also singing it "wa-nanana-na-nana-nana" kind of thing. and during that part, I'm going along with him, playing the air guitar and singing along with the riff. and during the whole song, I'm sing-shouting and acting out the whole thing, super big and exaggerated and not giving a fuck.
so, after the song, the guy standing behind us taps me on the shoulder and says something like "I've never seen anyone who loves that song as much as I do, that was awesome" and it just made me super fucking happy, and I love to still think about that moment and tell the story to people.
and I really hope the next time we go see Weezer, they play that song so I can do it all again. 😄❤️
