10 Works by justcuzz
Listing Works
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Summary
There’s things about Will that haven’t changed since he first learned how to form words. Like this, this push-and-pull between blurting something out and then walking it back. Bursting at the seams with a story or a thought, a confession or a question, but never indulging himself outright. You have to coax it out of him, you have to play along and pretend you’re forcing his hand.
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Jonathan and Will talk about not-talking.
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Caught in a storm of various too big feelings with no direct access to his preferred targets, he accuses Jonathan of not caring anymore. Jonathan looks down at the glass he’s holding, water swishing and swirling inside, and says quietly, “You’re the reason I’m still here.”
“Like, you feel stuck in Hawkins because of me? If that’s the case, then you—”
“No, Will.” His eyes dart up. “You’re the reason I’m still here.”
In which Will and Jonathan find that some things never change.
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The second time, she rifles methodically through his stuff to extract her stuff, everything he snatched from her over the years. This includes certain objects he might have had a genuine interest in (her old comic books, her new Walkman) but consists much more overwhelmingly of things he took just because he was tall enough to dangle them over her head (her multicolored hair ties, her favorite pen).
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In the aftermath of the Battle of Starcourt, Max deals with moving houses, losing friends, and the Billy of it all.
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It’s disorienting in a way, like being startled awake in the middle of an ill-advised nap at the kitchen table. For days, the house has been its own contained ecosystem, pristine laboratory conditions. A protective bubble encasing the three of them, preserving the sanctuary built up inside. Figures that of all the people to lift that curtain, Nancy Wheeler would be the first.
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Jonathan and Nancy become each other's soft place to land.
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Here, she is ordinary, her only marks of distinction an overzealous attitude and an oft-chastised inability to listen all the way through. Standard desk set-up, sturdy and functional. Potted plant in the corner, spilling out over the sides, which she either dotes on or neglects depending on her whims. Pen in hand, the same one everyone uses, twirling twirling twirling. Guess inspiration isn’t going to be striking today.
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Nancy reflects on who she is, who she used to be, and the particular fires that forged one into the other.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,987
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 59
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Summary
This part, at least, he knows. Regroup and reassess. Force the kids to put on bandages and bundle them off to bed. Then bundle Nancy and Robin off to bed, but probably don’t call it that, for the sake of your own safety. Take up the first shift as lookout, and have it stretch and stretch till it’s the next morning. Nod your head when Mrs. Byers asks you if you even got any sleep last night. Do what’s asked, do more than that, escape with everyone still in one piece. Steve has it all down to a science.
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Smack-dab in the middle of yet another Upside Down-related crisis, Steve has an unexpected encounter with a fellow Hawkins Monster Fighting Club member.
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your little brother doesn't tell you (but he loves you so) by justcuzz
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
23 Nov 2024
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Summary
More passively, more abstractly, he thinks: this is what’s going to happen for the rest of time. They’re never going to get anywhere. He’s going to say the wrong thing at some point each and every time, and Jonathan’s never going to chew him out for it. He’s going to step out of the car and breathe in, breathe out his way through it and when has that solved anything?
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Will and Jonathan say some things they mean, some things they don't, and try to do better for each other.
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She moves to her right, eyes trained on the next target, and thinks about Mr. Salinger’s class on sensations in the human body. Pain, he’d said, originated as a defense mechanism. When an external stimulus was actively harming your cells, hampering their function or killing them entirely, pain alerted your brain that something had to be done about that. Accordingly, you’d draw your hand back from the iron or jump back after stepping on glass. Pain was on your side. It was useful. It helped you by hurting you. To be immune to pain was to render pain useless – shoot the messenger, run out of ammunition for the enemy.
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Nancy Wheeler learns that to heal, you have to hurt.
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“Listen, uh, I got stuck at work for a few more hours, so you’re gonna have to bike home, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And stay there by yourself for a little bit. Think you can handle that?”
“Yeah, totally. You know you don’t have to keep asking me that every time, right?”
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The vanishing of Will Byers, as told by Jonathan Byers.
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It's cold outside, and he doesn’t have a jacket, but that’s really how he likes it. With the wind getting under his skin, forcing all that is limp and still and asleep to come alive and The Smiths in his ears, damn near screaming him to deafness, at least he can convince himself that he is still here, he is still real, and the alternate dimensions and big bad evils and black magic fuckery had spared the part of him that could still freeze to death on the verandah of their rundown house and get excited about new underground rock bands.
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The one where Jonathan Byers cannot sleep.