#Cynthia Hawkins

[theories-of]

CYNTHIA HAWKINS Signs of Civilization #12, 2007-2010 Acrylic and oil bar on paper 30 x 44 in

#CYNTHIA HAWKINS #art #painting

[luckyacid]

Cynthia Hawkins Maps Necessary for a Walk in 4D #7, 2023 Acrylic on canvas 70 x 60 in

#Cynthia Hawkins #art

[ordinaryfailure]

In 1972, I completed my last figurative painting of several gymnasts on parallel bars, on mats, vaulting horses, and so on. I realized then that the painting was not about figures but about movement, direction, and space. Leaving the figure behind, I focused on drawing the equipment to see how those forms might evolve and become something different, specifically something other than their manufactured shapes, and be made useful in a new and different way. The pastel drawing of gymnastic equipment evolved to become geometric shapes, hence geometric abstraction. I experienced two critical encounters: first, Hans Hoffmann’s “push and pull” theory of color; second, Piet Mondrian’s early tree drawings that evolved to become intersecting lines, followed by geometric shapes. Abstraction is not merely taking things, ideas, and objects apart. For me, abstraction is about possibilities and the potential of the real to become something other. Abstraction offers me opportunities to remake the real. 

—Cynthia Hawkins, interviewed in Bomb Magazine (2023)

#art practice #black studies #critical theory #abstraction #contemporary art #black women in art #black women artists #interviews #abstract painting #Cynthia Hawkins #Gwynfor’s Soup #Proximity of Matter #Bomb Magazine

[brenheir]

thinking  abt  s4  main  character  ,  rick  davis.  step-father  to  carol  ,  husband  to  cynthia  davis  ,  former  doctor  at  hawkins  lab  who  worked  alongside  dr.  brenner.

#i've talked abt rick before but - #〈 ooc. 〉 - 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜. #carol wasn't there at the time of the massacre but. rick still worked there. so. #THOUGHTS. #he was a doctor at hawkins lab who brenner then employed to infiltrate cynthia's life to study carol #after carol's leaving of the lab. thoughts. #cynthia married him for financial security unaware of rick's purpose. #they had never met when she worked at the lab due to her lower rank compared to his but . . . #he genuinely grew to love both her and carol and is wildly protective of his found daughter. #stopped reporting back to brenner because of his love for carol. #probably went mia for a bit after Lab Things.

[cooliestghouliest]

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

—

chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

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Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

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“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

#eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #mungrove x reader #mungrove

[pinkeoni]

When Joyce calls Lonnie in 1x01, they first show the lab spying on her conversation.

This could just be used to establish that the lab is keeping track of everyone’s phone conversations, but they are still using it to show that they are spying on this specific conversation.

Of course when Joyce calls, Cynthia picks up first and hangs up on Joyce. When Joyce calls a second time, it goes straight to voicemail before being cut off.

Now Cynthia could have just immediately called Lonnie or someone else at this point, or purposefully hung up on Joyce. My personal theory? The lab intercepted the call. (The message is also cut off shortly after Joyce says Will is missing.)

So awhile ago I made a post theorizing about the possibility of Lonnie working with the lab in order for them to take Will and what that timeline might have looked like. If they were, then it would make sense that they would need to reach him before Joyce did. That way, they could brief him on what they need him to do before he talks to anyone else.

In the next episode, Jonathan goes to Lonnie’s to look for Will. Some of what Lonnie says is all very plausible but still… interesting.

Lonnie says he talked to the cops. Again, this is very plausible. HOWEVER, in the episode prior, Joyce tells Hopper this:

Joyce insists that she will talk to Lonnie, since he’s more likely to talk to her than the cops. And yet, Lonnie tells Jonathan that he has talked to cops. (Although, he does say THOSE cops in particular. Maybe even if he’s not working with the lab directly, fhey could have sent someone disguised as cops?)

This is still plausible, but hasn’t most of the cops been doing search parties around the town? Granted they would wanna cover every possible place, but still something to consider. (Even if the cops did talk to Lonnie, the lab would have likely gotten to him first.)

When Jonathan asks Lonnie why he didn’t call Joyce back, he gives a very lame excuse.

Again, like I’ve said, a plausible excuse, just smells fishy. The fact that he had to think for a moment to recall adds to that fishiness too.

Another interesting detail:

Lonnie asks Jonathan if Hopper is still the chief. But if the cops came and talked to him yesterday, couldn’t he just ask them? (Maybe this would throw suspicion on him if he did, but also maybe he didn’t ask because no Hawkins cops actually came to his house.)

#dont worry lonnie is gonna d word gruesomely #stranger things theory #lonnie byers #will byers #jim hopper #joyce byers #jonathan byers #tw lonnie byers #byler #<- target audience #not byler related

[anime-grimmy-art]

Round up of all the commissions I’ve done this summer.

Again, thanks to everyone who commissioned me!

Lotsa different stuff this time, the variety definitely was a lot of fun!

Commissions in order:

Adelle Bodypillow for komatsujo (have I ever posted the Elvis one?)

@datfluffypillow ‘s OC Reshi Oblige

@raedoodles ‘s OC Hawkins getting teased by their friend’s OC Itzel

Wolfwood and siren_serenade‘s OC Rosemary

pocketpurrincess ‘s OC Naia getting some well deserved attention from Knives (Insta)

slimeknight899's OC Reno, his gf Cynthia and totally his dad Alder (Insta)

TwinSwap AU Nai for @x-i-l-verify

(you can find infos about the AU here if you’re interested: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3414673)

#bravely default 2 #trigun #pokemon #commissions #fanart

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1 INFO

Round 1 will be posted between Friday, November 10th and Thursday, November 16th. It will be split between 4 sets, each set being posted on a different day. There will be a total of 128 participants (32 participants in each individual set) divided in 64 polls (16 polls in each individual set). By the end of Round 1, 64 participants will make it to Round 2 while the rest will be sent to the Shadow Realm where their souls will be tormented for eternity. Each poll will last a week. As the sets are posted, I will link them below.

ROUND 1A

Cinderella (Disney's Cinderella Animated) vs. Ella (Disney's Cinderella Live-Action Remake)

Hatsune Miku as Cinderella (Various Songs) (Vocaloid) vs. Hello Kitty as Cinderella (Hello Kitty no Cinderella)

Cinderella/Aschenputtel/Cendrillon (German/General European Fairytale Variant) vs. Vasilisa the Beautiful (Russian/East European Fairytale Variant)

Rhodopis (Greek Fairytale Variant) vs. Ye Xian (Chinese Fairytale Variant)

Hamupipőke (Hungarian Fairytale Variant) vs. Eun Ha Won (Cinderella with Four Knights)

Mireleh (The Way Meat Loves Salt by Nina Jaffe/Louise August) vs. Settarah (The Persian Cinderella by Shirley Climo/Robert Florczak)

Cendrillon (Otogi-Juushi Akazukin) vs. Leila Takashiro (Hime Chen! Otogi Chikku Idol Lilpri)

Hoshizora Miyuki / "Cure Happy" as Cinderella (Smile PreCure/Glitter Force) vs. Mofurun as "Mofurella" (Mahou Tsukai PreCure)

Giselle Lai (Cinderelle) vs. Isabell Heartwell (Cinder's Ball)

Cinderella (Grimms Notes) vs. Cinderella Mary Skelter)

Queen Cinderella Charming (The Land of Stories by Chris Colfer) vs. Ella of Maidenvale / Cinderella (The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainani)

Eleanor / Cinderella (The Wide-Awake Princess by E.D. Baker) vs. Elegant "Ella" Herringbone Coach (Disenchanted: The Trials of Cinderella by Megan Morrison)

Vassa (Vassa in the Night by Sarah Porter) vs. Vasilisa "Vasya" Petrovna (The Winternight trilogy by Katherine Arden)

Cinderella (Fables) vs. Cinderella "Cindy" Baxter (The Sisters Grimm)

Mia Basile (Cinderella the Cat) vs. Rose Cinderella (Regal Academy)

Maria Aparecida "Cida" dos Santos Souza (Cheias de Charme) vs. La Cenerentola (La Cenerento Laossia La Bontà in Trionfo)

ROUND 1B

Ella of Frell (Ella Enchanted book by Gail Carson Levine) vs. Ella of Frell (Ella Enchanted movie)

Cinderellis (Cinderellis and the Glass Hill by Gail Carson Levine) vs. Danielle Whiteshore (nee de Glas) (Princess series by Jim C. Hines)

Imogen Keegan (Damsel Distressed by Kelsey Macke) vs. Jess Parker (The Cinderella Society by Kay Cassidy)

Cinderella/Prinzessin (Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters & Yu-Gi-Oh! TCG) vs. Fairy Tail - Rella (Yu-Gi-Oh! TCG)

Cindy (How to Save Your Tail by Mary Elizabeth Hanson) vs. Cinderumpelstiltskin (The Stinky Cheese Man by Jon Scieszka/Lane Smith)

Cinder Edna (Cinder Edna by Ellen Jackson) vs. Cinderella (Cinderella Penguin, or, the Little Glass Flipper by Janet Perlman)

Cindy (If the Shoe Fits by Julie Murphy) vs. Elle Wittimer (Geekerella by Ashley Poston)

Bronwyn Murdoch (The Prince Who Loved Me by Karen Hawkins) vs. Sophie Beckett (An Offer From a Gentleman by Julia Quinn)

Ella (Cinder Ella by S.T. Lynn) vs. Cynthia "Cyn" Robinson (Cinders) (Sapphic Fairy Tales by Cara Malone)

Lucinda Jarvis (Grimm) vs. Queen Cinderella (10th Kingdom)

Sam Montgomery (A Cinderella Story) vs. Mary Santiago (Another Cinderella Story)

Katie Gibbs (A Cinderella Story: Once Upon a Song) vs. Cinderella (Cinderella 2021)

Cinderella (Bad Cinderella) vs. Ella (Happily N'Ever After)

Ella (The Glass Slipper) vs. Cinderella (The Slipper and the Rose)

Ashlynn Ella (Ever After High) vs. Threadarella (Monster High: Scarily Ever After)

Danielle de Barbarac (Ever After) vs. Popelka (Three Wishes for Cinderella)

ROUND 1C

Miss Piggy as "Lady Holiday" (The Great Muppet Caper) vs. CinderElmo (Sesame Street: CinderElmo)

Minnie Mouse as "Minnie-rella" (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) vs. Baby Gonzo as "Gonzo-rella" (Muppet Babies 2018)

Brittany Miller as Cinderella (Alvin and the Chipmunks) vs. Scrooge McDuck as "Scroogerello" (Ducktales)

Chuckie Finster as "Finsterella" (Rugrats) vs. Cinderella (Sabrina: The Animated Series)

Fella (Cinderfella) vs. Popeye the Sailor Man as "Cinderfella" (Popeye the Sailor man: Ancient Fishtory)

Betty Boop as Cinderella (Betty Boop: Poor Cinderella) vs. Cinderella (Swing Shift Cinderella)

Barbie as Cinderella (Barbie Dolls) vs. Yasmin as Cinderella (Bratz: Kids Fairy Tales)

Cinderella (Collector Plates) vs. Ella (Total Drama: Pahkitew Island)

Touya Kinomoto as Cinderella (Cardcaptor Sakura) vs. Saki Hanajima as "Cinderella-ish" (Fruits Basket)

Reki Kyan as "Cindereki" (Sk8 the Infinity) vs. Mettaton as Cinderella (Undertale)

Cinderella (Stand of Aya Tsuji) (Jojo's Biazzre Adventure Part 4: Diamond is Unbreakable) vs. Cendrillon (Persona of Sumi Yoshizawa/Violet) (Persona 5)

Cinderella (Once Upon a Crime) vs. Dulcie Hastings (nee Duveen) aka Cinderella (Murder on the Links) (Hercule Poirot series by Agatha Christie)

Scarecrow as "Scarecrowella" (D'Ocon Mumfie) vs. Ella Brown (Just Ella by Margaret Peterson Haddix)

Princess Petra / Spinstress as "Spinderella" (Earth-423) (Marvel Comics) vs. Cinderella (Girl Genius Fairytale Theater Break: Cinderella)

Cendrillon (Cendrillon by Telephone) vs. Cinderella (Cinderella by The Cheetah Girls)

Harper Finkle as "Harperella" (Wizards of Waverly Place) vs. Morgan Philip (Disenchanted)

ROUND 1D

Cinderella (Dimension 20: Neverafter) vs. Cinders (Once Upon a Time in Space by the Mechanisms)

Linh Cinder / Selene Blackburn (The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer) vs. Cinderella (Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella 1997)

Carrie White (Carrie by Stephen King) vs. Cinder Fall (RWBY)

Cinderella (Into the Woods) vs. Cinderella / Princess Ella / Ashley Boyd (Once Upon a Time)

Cinderella (Kingdom Hearts) vs. Cinderella (Shrek series)

Cinders (Cinders) vs. Lucette Riella Britton (Cinderella Phenomenon)

Cinderella (SINoALICE) vs. Cinderella (TAISHO x ALICE)

Cinderella (Sid Story) vs. Rin Hoshiora as Cinderella (Love Live)

Aisling "Ash" (Ash by Malinda Lo) vs. Xing Xing (Bound by Donna Jo Napoli)

Clara (Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister by Gregory Maguire) vs. Ella Saturday (Witches Abroad) (Discworld series by Terry Pratchett)

Euphemia "Effie" Reeves (Ten Thousand Stitches by Olivia Atwater) vs. Kate Kassell / Nate Ganymede (After the Ball)

Cinderella (Burn the Witch) vs. Shindou Rei (Boku wa Ohime-sama ni Narenai)

Cinderella (Cinderella Monogatari) vs. Haine Otomiya / "Seashore Cinderella" (The Gentleman's Alliance Cross)

Ghauri (Azure Striker Gunvolt) vs. Miyo Saimori (My Happy Marriage)

Ashley Vans (A Wicked Tale of Cinderella's Stepmom / I Raised Cinderella Preciously) vs. Cinciarell Winchestion (Don't Call Javotte an Evil Stepsister)

Cinderella (Blood Bank) vs. Itsumi Tachibana (You Are My Princess)

#cinderpoll #round 1 #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls #cinderella

[nerdyvocals]

hi

What are your thoughts on Cynthia's dress and where she got it from?

SO GLAD YOU ASKED

I'd had some initial thoughts based on my first impression of the dress when I watched the episode, which I expanded on with further research of 1950s fashion plus my own knowledge of storytelling via costumes and color theory. Please note before I get into this theory that it is just that: a theory, based on the analysis of a garment and the knowledge I have acquired via my specific education and discipline.

That said, I do know for a fact that at least some part of my line of thought was correct. A few days ago, I stumbled across an Instagram page, (pinkladiescostumes), which is run by Sam Hawkins, the costumer who designed episodes 4-10. Hawkins has made several posts with clearer images of certain costumes, original concept designs, the inspiration behind the looks, and detailed descriptions of the reasonings/ideas behind them and what they're meant to convey. Highly recommend you give the page a follow if you use insta and are interested in costumes!

Now let's get into it. As before, this is a long post, so analysis is under the cut.

First things first, what are we working with here?

(Images from @ pinkladiescostumes on instagram)

It's got a floor-length hem, with a tulle overskirt. It looks to me like the tulle is tiered (I think I'm counting eleven tiers??? God, making a three-tiered skirt in a class last semester nearly gave me a mental breakdown, I think eleven tiers of TULLE would have actually killed me), but the rest of the skirt layers are not. Spaghetti straps, with a detachable tulle shawl. And what looks like a nice lacy, flowery detailing on the bodice. Light, girly, and flowy. (Also fun fact from the costume page: This was an actual vintage dress that was altered to fit Ari! The shawl was added on for Cynthia, though.)

I know I've previously called this look a monstrosity, but that was mainly in jest. This dress is GORGEOUS, it's just not very Cynthia.

Of course, that is, in fact, the point. But I will circle back to that. I want to talk about why I think this is a new dress. Let's talk a bit about school dance history and fashion trends.

It was around the 1930s that school dances as we know them today began to arise. The debutante balls held by colleges began to gain a casual cousin in high schools by the names of soph hops and proms. By the 50's, tea-length dresses came into fashion, similar to what Jane is wearing. Speghetti straps and strapless were making their appearances as well, usually paired with shawls (even useless little ones like what Cynthia is wearing!). The rise of rock and roll and other such music that inspired fast, swinging dances meant that fuller skirts with lots of movement were a go-to. I was doing digging and found a few articles with some interesting pictures.

(Image from Elle article "Prom Dresses Through the Years: An Evolution" by Mary Grace Garis and Charlotte Chilton)

(Image from The Vintage Inn article "Prom in the 19040s and 1950s")

(Image from VintageDancer article, "1950s History of Prom, Party, Evening and Formal Dresses")

(Image from r/VintageFasion post by u/bonesbugsnferns, "took my great grandmothers 1954 prom dress out to see glenn miller orchestra with my boy:))

Do any of these look familiar?

Each of these dresses are from the very early 1950s; at most from '55. Why is that significant? Well, in 1954, when season one takes place, you probably wouldn't find these dresses second-hand.

Now, admittedly, this is where my theory becomes less physical-evidence based and is pulling more from my own lived experiences, but bear with me and hear me out.

Coming off of The Great Depression and World War II, people were hesitant to get rid of things, especially clothes, and especially women. A dress for a dance might only be worn once, but it would be saved in a chest or an attic for a future generation (see above, the reddit user who wore her grandmother's prom dress from 1954) rather than be taken to a charity shop.

Of course, the Fall Ball wasn't a prom, but I raise you this: my grandmother still has every school dress she ever wore, whether it be prom, homecoming, or a winter formal; as do most of my aunts, cousins, and female friends. I still have my eighth-grade Who's Who semi-formal dress in my closet at my mother's house, and my prom dress is still in its original bag (class of 2020! I did not get my prom).

I grew up very poor, and most of my dance dresses came from thrift stores. Rule of thumb: anything you find that's gonna be in budget is gonna be at least five years out of fashion.

So, this leads me to believe that Cynthia splurged and bought a new dress. It fits in with her story arch as well.

At this point in time, Cynthia's having a rough go of it. They've been pushed out of her comfort zone in the drama club, she bailed on the play quite literally at the last possible second, and they're having feelings for a girl that she's not ready to, and cannot safely, confront. Being queer in high school, especially when you are or believe yourself to be the only one in your friend group who is, is a very isolating experience. And remember your LGBT history kids: being gay was a criminal offense, even in California, for most of the 20th century (in fact, California wouldn't see a significant attempt to lessen the laws until the 1960s).

So keep in mind here: Cynthia's hesitation to act on their feelings (or rather, the total refusal to acknowledge them) isn't (just) coming from something as simple as a fear of rejection or social isolation: if she is found out, she is risking a criminal record, imprisonment, forced conversion, or death.

And how does that fear manifest? By trying to look as much like a girl as possible. And if that means buying a brand-new dress she'd only wear once? Then so be it.

And this dress is the antithesis of anything we see Cynthia wear in the entire series. Their wardrobe is full of dark colors and loose fits, sharp lines and relaxed appearances. Even her more feminine school clothes contain traces of these more masculine elements. So what is this dress trying to say?

Anyone here familiar with color theory?

A brief explanation: our brains associate colors with certain things, and a designer will utilize these associations when trying to elicit a certain thought or feeling about something. (An example of this going badly that I feel most are familiar with, see: A Children's Hospital.)

(Image from Colors Explained article, "Meaning of the Color Yellow: Symbolism, Common Uses, & More")

This graphic I found explains what yellow is associated with pretty well. Every color has its positive and negative connotations, and what is being done with Cynthia's dress is very clever.

As I stated previously, they are trying very hard to put up a front of being perfectly fine. She is not ready to confront her feelings for Lydia, let alone the fact that she's queer, and both of these things are burdens she has to carry alone. So she throws herself into a date with the one boy she can guarantee is interested in her. She dons a flowery, lacy, yellow dress, looking as much like the "pretty peppies" as she can make herself appear. And she tries so hard to seem happy with him; be the enthusiastic, bubbly, smiley girlfriend.

Lydia, of course, sees right through this. "You can't pull that off."

And we see the mask slip. Yellow means other things as well; caution, sickness, cowardice, betrayal.

Caution: this carefully crafted straight girl persona.

Sickness: anyone can see how uncomfortable, how ill they look in their own skin.

Cowardice: running, running, running; from the play, from Lydia, from the Pink Ladies, from what she's realizing about herself.

Betrayal: Lashing out at Lydia when she tries to make amends. Dragging Shy Guy into the kitchen, just to hurt her. Pushing him to do more, blaming him when he can't make her feel normal, turning her cruelty on him, damaging a life-long friendship in the process.

And in the end, a new dress didn't matter. It doesn't make her 'normal', doesn't make these terrifying notions go away. It was only a warning sign for what was to come.

If you stuck around this long, props to you! This went on longer than I intended, but y'know, I got a lot to say. I've got a few more costume analysis requests burning a hole in my ask box, plus my list of fic plans (which has gotten... longer), but I'm going to have to take a brief hiatus. On top of my summer stock work getting more intense in a few days, I also need to prepare a research proposal in association with my degree track so that I can graduate on time, and I have to start working on the first draft soon, so if I put myself on hiatus from what I want to be writing, I'm hoping I can force myself to get what I have to write done faster. Part of said research is going to involve looking into 1950s fashion, so I'm counting this as a knowledge refresher.

That said, I'm leaving my ask box open to more requests, questions, or anything else, and I'll get to them as I can. Bye for now!

#rise of the pink ladies #grease rise of the pink ladies #cynthia zdunowski #costume analysis #color theory #costume history #costume theory

[transcodedcharacterstournament]

Sorry it so long, but the list is finally done

Here are our pair ups

I included almost every character so the tournament is going to be long

Left side

Jesus vs Hamlet

Dean vs Sam

Rose Tyler vs The Doctor

Mob vs teruki hanazawa

Emily Prentiss vs Penelope Garcia

Anakin Skywalker vs Obi-Wan Kenobi

Aziraphale vs Crowley

Jessie vs james

toph vs Sokka

julian bashir vs James T Kirk

Jadzia Dax vs Ezri Dax

Spock vs Odo

Luke skywalker vs Leia skywalker

Hunter vs Luz

Alador blight vs The collector

Raine vs Lilith Clawthorne

Dipper vs Mable

Sonic vs Shadow

Marco diaz vs Pidge

Katsuki Bakugo vs Ejirou Kirishima

Kagamine Len vs miku

bot lightbulb

Test tube vs Apple

Tree vs black hole

saw vs Golf ball

Dr. teeh vs Animal

Floyd pepper vs janice

Zoot vs lips

Fjord Stone vs Yussa Errenis

Zukko vs Azula

Veth Brenatto (Nott the Brave) vs Pyrrha dve

silver vs blaze

Howl vs Aizawa

Walter White vs Jesse pinkman

Noelle vs Ralsei

Perfuma vs Bow

Jim Lake Jr vs Steve Palchuk

Hiccup vs Danny Phantom

Fox Mulder vs Dana Scully

Harley Quinn vs the riddler

Neo vs Trinity

Deanna Troi vs Brunt

Worf vs Saavik

Dr Habit vs Kamal Bora

Scout vs Ms. Pauling

Right Hand Man vs Henry Stickmin

Reginald Copperbottom vs Ellie Rose

Kurapika vs Alluka Zoldyck

Kite vs Daisukenojo "Beat" Bito

Link vs Zelda

Miles Edgeworth vs Franziska von Karma

Rolan Deep vs Chip

Jay Ferin vs William Wisp

Ashe Winters vs Kian stone

Gillion Tidestrider vs Edyn Tidestrider

donnie vs leonardo

Madeline Hatter vs Darling Charming

Kokichi Ouma vs Shuichi saihara

Aiko Umesawa vs Hajime Hinata

Komatu Naegi vs chihiro fujisaki

Randy Radman vs Jaques Kensignton

Shiki Misaki vs Yoshiya "Joshua" Kiryu

Eddie Munson vs Jonathan Byers

Nancy Wheeler vs Max Mayfield

peter parker vs Cecil Palmer

BOYD vs Lena Sabrewing

Yuuki Mishima vs Naoto Shirogane

Futaba Sakura vs Akira Kurusu

Ricky Potts vsJane Doe

Koichi Hirose vs Narciso Anasui

Adeleine vs Meta Knight

Ferdinand von Aegir vs Lorenz Gloucester

Gomez Addams vs Morticia addams

Sir Crocodile vs Yamato

yellow caballero vs Gold

Akari vs Silver

Right side

Penny vs Champion Cynthia

Captain3 vs Agent 8

Apollo Justice vs maya fey

bill s preston esquire vs ted theodore logan

Kermit the Frog vs Gonzo

Jack Kline vs Castiel

Kazuhira Miller vs Revolver Ocelot

Mizuki Akiyama vs Mafuyu Asahina

Scaramouche vs Venti

Alucard vs Juste Belmont

Rika vs Wallac

Bede vs Celestia Ludenberg

Omega vs Pavel Chekov

Amy rose vs Tails

Gerard (Gerry) Keay vs Jonathan Sims

Jane Prentiss vs Martin blackwood

Aether vs Lumine

Diluc Ragnvindr vs Fischl

Sasha waybright vs Marcy wu

Lars vs finn

Jim Hawkins vs Mulan

onoda sakamichi vs shinkai yuuto

Vivian vs Birdo

Bridget vs Poison

Jack Spicer vs Enid

Taliyah vs Jinx

Yoshiko "Yohane" Tsushima vs Rina Tennoji

Marceline vs Wendy Corduroy

Optimus Prime vs Rodimus prime

The Master vs john sheppard

haruhi fujioka vs Haku

Jason Todd vs tim drake

billy batson vs Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher 2

Maxwell Klinger vs George Costanza

Gyro Gearloose vs ron stampler

Daniel LaRusso vs Miguel Diaz

Xion vs Lauriam 

Alice Yabusame vs Marina

Anna vs Rin Hoshizora

David Jacobs vs Ambrose

Lestat vs Quentin Coldwater

Orel Puppington vs Chucky

Reze vs Isabella Yamamoto

Mrs. Frizzle vs Dr. Doofenshmirtz

Ellen Ripley vs Orla McCool

Peril vs Baldwin

Sidney Prescott vs Envy Adams

akiyama mizuki  vs Flower

Oswald Cobblepot vs Margo Hanson

Charlie Kelly vs Newton Geiszler

Remy vs Meowth

knock out vs Lavernius Tucker

Raiden vs lappland

Party Poison vs Nico di Angelo

Hera vs P03

Leo Demonheart vs Suzuki Iruma

Doug Ramsey vs Marty McFly

Lake vs Jenny

Will Graham vs Herbert West

Anne Boonchuy vs Carmen Sandiego

Paul Atreides vs Yoon Jong-woo

Ritsu sohma vs Ruby Rose

Ruffnut  vs Momoe Sawaki

Xie Lian vs Raikou Shimizu

Chai vs Hisirdoux Casperan

henry morris vs Dave Strider

Jeremie Belpois vs Lloyd Garmadon

Gandalf vs Dolores Abernathy

Arthur Kingsmen vs Mako

Kurama vs Vash the Stampede

Shiver vs Luigi

Kim Kitsuragi vs tristian

Rouge vs Zoe

Shinji Ikari vs Dororo

#tumblr polls #transgender

[redlegumes]

Little Monster Chapter 2:

On AO3

"His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes."

Steve Harrington finds and loses love, finishes high school stealth, and is pulled into the mysteries and horrors of the Upside Down. (Transpires over the events of Stranger Things Seasons 1-3)

CHAPTER AFTER THE CUT IS MATURE 18+

Notes:

A lot of CW's for this chapter, trying to cover my bases.

I'd say I hope the warnings don't discourage you from reading, but they're literally here so people can make informed choices about the entertainment they're consuming. So please read the warnings.

CW: Mild homophobia, parental transphobia, mild internalized transphobia, canon based underaged sexual history discussed as well as high school aged Steve and Nancy sex talk (mature but not explicit), brief bully Billy Hargrove appearance, high school locker room verbal bullying/homophobia, Steve Harrington has bad parents, verbal abuse, disownment

Turning sixteen meant Steve secured a driver's license with his gender and name, thanks to his birth certificate being handled when it was. It also meant testosterone, thanks to his doctor in Chicago that he checked in with virtually. Steve was set up with a prescription and tracked down an online pharmacy that would ship it directly to the house. He didn't mind the needle aspect, it felt like a small price to pay for what he received in exchange. The bottom growth alone was so satisfying. Packers were fine and all, his prosthetics helped immensely, but having his own body shift closer to what he knew it should be was gratifying in ways he couldn't express. But of course there wasn't anyone to share his euphoria with either.

Steve was grateful for what his parent’s money afforded him and his access to medication, but he couldn't tell them that. They only wanted to see him in a tidy little gender box. He was their son, and he 'should be able to manage and maintain that identity' without slipping in the slightest. If anything, as soon as he received the car keys to the BMW it felt as though they were pulling away. Chip and Mitzi Harrington spent more and more time in Indianapolis, and when they were home, the pressure on Steve to present as the perfect son had a whiplash effect on him. One moment he was meant not to care about their frequent abandonment and the next he was expected to treat them as though they'd hung the moon.

Steve started to feel it wasn't his parent's good opinion of him that he needed, it'd never truly been. They weren't going to suddenly love and support him, no matter what hurdles he overcame, the hoops he jumped through. They weren't going to give him more of their time or consideration.

Steve's priorities shifted.

He could use his money and lack of supervision to his advantage. Steve's life alone, at home when his folks were away, didn't need to be a living mausoleum. He could get love and attention from his friends. While he couldn't completely squash that desire to get his parent's acceptance, this would do, and once he started, they didn't even seem to notice. He was fully integrated in the Hawkins High School power dynamic. Whether or not he passed was no longer worry number one. He now had to worry about other incidents. For example, how fast an ambitious sophomore, Cynthia Evans, tried to get her hand down his pants after baseball practice.

Steve liked girls. They were soft. He'd never noticed, before going on T, just how much softer they felt. They smelled lovely too. He found femininity on someone else wasn't a turn off at all. There was something affirming in the differences he clearly saw and felt between himself and female partners. They were foreign yet familiar, the paradox lightly plaguing him as he began to date around. Dating was part of the popularity deal. It also afforded him a little more leeway with his own identity. Steve cared about his hair and clothes obviously because he was a lady killer, not a 'homo' with feminine tendencies that he feared would one day be some sort of smoking gun that outed him.

Though, he still noticed guys.

Men were exciting in a different way. Certain traits, a muscle or light pattern of chest hair, these things drew Steve in beyond just gender envy. But even if he could keep his trans status secret while coming out as bisexual, there'd be no understanding from his folks. Despite the internet and TV show representations becoming more frequent, being bisexual wasn't much of an option around Hawkins. Steve knew if he dated a dude he'd be seen as gay with all the casual homophobia that came with it. He hadn't encountered a girl he wanted to reveal his genital situation to. Being bisexual and having to reveal his bottom bits to a guy? It seemed like a reality he wasn't going to live. General consensus was that it was easier to be a straight, cis dude, and Steve was inclined to agree.

So instead, there was some closeted experimentation. A few cocks sucked in a few locker rooms. Steve found his hookups perfectly content when he asked them not to reciprocate or touch him.

Girls worked similarly. Steve knew all the spots to park in or walk to with a picnic blanket. Sometimes it was just the sweet intimacy in kissing, feeling so adored, desired. But often there was a push for more, and Steve obliged if they did things his way. Nowhere else in his life did he feel as 'in control' then he did in the back seat of his car, with a pair of thighs trembling around his head.

He cycled through dates, getting off the prettiest girls in school, and he did it well enough that the rumors were all praise. No one brought up his avoidance to press his partners for his own climax, and Steve encouraged any whispers that implied he had gotten it. He wasn't struggling with a complete lack of self satisfaction. He found a select few packers that allowed him to really benefit just by rutting against another's body.

It all worked. His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes. He had a community, but it began to remind him of paper mache. There was no solid core, only pretty paper that could all melt away.

...

Then came Nancy Wheeler.

Steve was seventeen and he finally felt secure enough. Ready. Ready to let someone see him, know him, perhaps even his story. Nancy was thoughtful and kind. And Steve wanted to… he wanted to do more with her than what he'd done with others. She was so smart. So much smarter than Steve, and yet he could get her flustered, make her blush, and make her smile.

He started to let his guard down around Nancy. He let a lot of the persona he'd developed fade while hanging with her. He didn't need to keep it up like he did with Tommy, his 'best' friend. The bitchy quips and asshole brush offs were designed to keep people from getting too comfortable, to keep himself a little superior, separated, safe. With Nance, he wanted her to press, to touch, and ask. He was ready to answer.

…

He ended up being the one with questions.

Steve climbed up the front of the Wheeler house and in, through the window of Nancy's room, one night. Predictably, she was studying. They'd been not quite 'dating' for a little while… and unlike his other relationships, Steve wanted this one to go further. He wanted more. He wanted it to last.

The night started with helping Nancy study. Steve soon shook his head with laughter as it became clear she knew the subject matter, front and back. Nance was more than prepared for her test the next morning. They were both reclined on either ends of her bed and it struck Steve as though everything was comforting, soft. The lighting, the furnishings, even Nancy's shrewd yet shy smile…

"You know I want to do more with you, Nance," he said, not quite sure how else to word it.

"More than study?" She giggled, raising a manicured eyebrow.

"I normally..." He fidgeted with the flashcards before setting them down. Steve thought he'd mastered moving past nervousness. Guess this situation is different. Well, no reward without risk. "I don't open myself up to a lot of people. I don't actually, um do more than what we've been up to."

Nancy moved a hand out towards him. "Steve, it's okay… you don't have to-"

"-No. I really do. I want for it to be us. For there to be an us? You're not like the other girls."

Nancy's lips twisted into a small, curt smile as she looked away from him, the blush on her cheeks deepening. "Oh my God. Don't say it like that."

"Hah." Steve felt a grin spread over his own face, and he leaned toward her. "I mean you're really special. You Nancy, you make me want more, make me feel like we could have more."

"I think. I think I'd like that." Her eyes snapped back to him as her smile grew wider. "Could be really nice, being an 'us.'"

Steve breathed out a big sigh of relief. His happiness, over Nancy seemingly being on the same page, barely tempered his anxiety transferring to his next confession. Steve swallowed and looked into her sharp blue eyes. "Hey. So, I feel like there's something you ought to know. Something only my parents know about, but I trust you. I don't… believe that you would hurt me with it, if I tell you."

"Steve?" Nancy reached out and this time took his hand. She squeezed it lightly. "I would never knowingly try to hurt you. Sometimes you can be sort of an asshole jock." Steve laughed nervously. "But I wouldn't turn your secrets against you."

He nodded. She truly had such beautiful eyes. Steve stared at the shifting, gentle waters of her gaze and found his center.

"Nancy, I'm trans." The words sounded distant when he spoke them.

Nancy's eyes widened. They flashed over his body and then back up to his face. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Steve, I. Thank you I. I really appreciate that you told me."

Woah, I did it. Wow, okay. "Now you know," he said meekly, building back up the courage to say what he'd wanted to. "I'm serious about you Nancy. If this is a deal breaker... I need to know."

"No!" She looked as surprised as he assumed he did at the speed of her reply. "No, actually I'm good with this. I, I said I was ready to do more. I don't have an issue with the fact that you're, you," she said, squeezing his hand again and glancing down his body. "I mean, seems like some of your parts might just be more familiar to me than what I was expecting."

His mind went blank with the unexpected acceptance. He was so awestruck he couldn't think but to ask, "how would you… would you want to?" He trailed off in a daze, and Nancy leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. Steve had thought it out before but now it was real. "I've got the means to do it the y'know, 'classic' way. If you want."

"The classic way Steve? That makes it sound like I'm ordering a burger."

They laughed together and Steve felt lighter. "We can talk more later if you need time, it's no rush."

"Maybe. I think right now I'd like to kiss you again."

…

The days that followed their first time were confusing to say the least. Steve saw Nancy repeatedly with Jonathan. He took stalker shots of her from the woods behind his house! Steve tried not to even think about what could have happened if he had stood in his window that night. Byers didn't strike him as the type to 'out' somebody, but Steve was angry, scared. He finally opened up, just for it to all come crumbling down? Had Nancy been so disgusted by him that she had to run out and get biodick to erase the memory of his store bought member? Jealousy filled his head and hurt grew in his chest. Tommy and Carol were gleefully ready to turn on Nancy Wheeler after hearing that Steve may have been cheated on. It felt like friendship when they defaced buildings downtown, when they encouraged Steve and Jonathan to fight.

But even in the face of Steve's petty friends, magnifying his hurt, Nancy was true to her word. She didn't reveal his secret and she denied wrongdoing.

Would anyone in his life take that level of character assault and not lash back at him? Use any perceivable weakness to wound him? Later, Steve only wished that Jonathan hadn't had to beat his face in for him to get it. All his fears of discovery, betrayal, loss of the popularity that he'd clung to, believing it was his shield. Those relationships weren't an ounce of what he could have with Nancy. And someday maybe with others? He could have people in his life who really cared for him.

Steve broke with his old friends, cleaned graffiti, and sought after Nancy Wheeler.

The demogorgon adequately summed up why she'd acted so odd.

...

He and Nancy were good for a while after that, finding comfort in one another, and then it began to fall apart. Steve loved her, and she couldn't say it back. He tried to cope with her over Barb's death, but their methods weren't the same. Steve wanted to swallow the sadness and try to move on. Nancy wanted retribution, and a small vengeance. When she set out to find that closure, she didn't seek Steve's aid.

Steve wished that was the summary of his senior year troubles, but then Billy Hargrove came to town.

…

Hargrove had joined the basketball team. He was fresh from California, one of those high school guys who was plainly built like a full adult. His play style was aggressive, and the first practice he joined after making the team he dedicated to shoving Steve around. Steve's game on the court wasn't what it had been. Swimming and his swing at the batting cages were fine, but basketball… Steve now shied from contact heavy plays. His doctor had warned him about concussions after he mentioned a few 'falls' he'd taken that past year during his last check in.

However, Billy seemed determined. It was typical 'prison yard' mentality: establish dominance by beating the best. Steve had been the 'king,' and Billy appeared to hunger for the discarded crown.

After that practice, Steve changed into his swim suit in the locker room handicap stall like he normally did. He was ready for a couple laps in the pool after the mild humiliation on the court.

The locker room was still fairly full when Steve headed toward the pool exit; unfortunately, the crowd included Billy. He was showering and called out loudly enough that it echoed on the tiles, over the shower's spray. "So this 'king Steve' I've been hearing so much about is fucking allowed, flaunting even, that weird ass, full body thing." Billy sneered and shut off the shower head, stalking nude right up to Steve. "How'd you even swim like that man?"

"What, have you never seen a full body speedo? You wanna Google 'men's fastsuit' or do you just never watch Olympic coverage." Steve had defended himself before, but then it had always come with a degree of expectation. Naked Billy ranked high in unnerving and unexpected. He was far too close. Power move bullshit, Steve realized, grimacing. "Man, you don't have to like it and my performance proves it's not an issue, so." Steve moved to sidestep Billy but found himself blocked.

"Sure. You knoooow I'm wondering if you aren't just too self conscious Steve-o. Maybe you just need help with it, huh?" Billy snapped Steve's shoulder strap to punctuate his point.

Steve's skin began to buzz. There was definitely an undercurrent to the hostility in Billy's voice. One he didn't like.

Fuck.

Before he could truly panic, his teammate Brian spoke up, cutting the tension. "Dude, lay off. We need Steve. He's a solid player. Don't fuck with him like that."

"Really?" Billy stepped away, and grabbed a towel. "You pussies all agree?"

Steve was grateful to see the team members still in the locker shoot Billy looks that confirmed just that. Billy's gaze eventually landed on Tommy who had excitedly become Billy's bootlicker since the start of the school year.

For the first time since their friendship's explosive ending in the parking lot, Tommy didn't dig at Steve. He shrugged and mostly mumbled his reply. "We've all got our shit. Besides, I'm not gonna force a dude out of his swimsuit with a bunch of other guys in the locker room showers man. No one's gonna buy that's not some gay shit right there."

"No homo," another player called out from in back to a smattering of laughter. Billy dropped it.

Apart from the harassment 'dick looking ' at the urinals received, Steve found few instances where he was grateful for homophobia. That moment ranked.

...

His parents never asked him about the injuries, the bruising, or the scars that formed after. Though his mother once stopped him, offering cryptic advice concerning vitamin E, shirts that covered arms for all seasons, and make up tips for covering sections of 'damaged' skin.

Steve often wondered just what they thought had happened to him. Not that he volunteered any information. Not like he really could. Steve could tell it made them uncomfortable, even more adverse to his company. He only had the vague outlines of what they expected him to do after high school, but he'd begun to grow anxious about it after college rejection letters started to show up in the mail.

Nance had tried her best to help him, but his sports achievements weren't enough to balance out his piss poor grades. Steve graduated without any acceptance offers from a four year university. He absently wondered if the hits to the head over the years had anything to do with it, or worse (in his own opinion), his mental health.

Steve resigned himself to the fact that there would be no Harrington graduation party. After he walked across the stage and pulled his tassel to one side, he followed his parent's car home. Once the door to the house shut behind them all, his father began a tirade.

"This is ridiculous! The trouble, the cost, to keep your reckless 'identity choice' from scandalizing every friend and colleague our family has and now, no real college would take you?" The indignation was rich coming from his father. He'd never even suggested a specific school Steve should aim for, let alone help with applications. "Do you expect us to stay here another year? Hawkins," he spat out the name. "No. We're leaving this pointless little town. You are taking any office job I can get for you at the firm. This is what I get for giving you carte blanche you ungrateful shit," his father muttered. "I'm done being 'Mr. Nice Guy.'"

Steve's hand clenched as the words bounced around his mind like a pinball machine. "...that's what the last 18 years were? Nice? You barely speak to me. Here I've been grateful you rarely misgender me. No wonder. When was the last time you actually talked to me? If we don't count screaming, I can't remember. The move here was always about you. I would've stayed in Chicago. I wasn't the one who needed to hide who I am. That was always you two!" His eyes fluttered over his mother, including her in his address. He didn't raise his voice. He couldn't bear the thought of mimicking his father that way. "You signed my name change and gender indicator paperwork so others would think you didn't have some freak for a son. I look every inch like your son, so I better at least play that role for you? Look at the car you bought so you didn't have to drive me to practices or pick me up. You're moving?" Steve pushed out another clipped question. "When's the last time you were living here?"

"You're done." Chip Harrington's fist shook, his index finger pointing at Steve. "We're done. You're cut off. This is the last straw. You've rejected all we've tried to give you from your first name to a chance at a future. You disgust me. I want you gone by the time I'm done with work tomorrow."

The declarations and demand didn't fill him with anger. It only made him feel drained. It dawned on Steve that he'd fought to hold up his parents' approval of him and now he couldn't do it anymore. He let it slip away. His care for their opinion was gone. It wasn't a triumphant moment but it sure as hell wasn't a sad one.

…

Steve packed his things.

He didn't want to call Nancy, but he wasn't really sure what he was going to do. Hawkins was too small to have too much in the way of homeless youth resources, and he genuinely didn't want to leave Hawkins; it'd become home. His kids were still there, and he'd learned that they rarely stayed safe. He couldn't abandon them…

So he loaded the beamer with the documents and possessions he could claim entirely as his and got a job at the new mall. He pawned and sold clothes, shoes, and watches to scrounge up enough for rent and a deposit. Steve realized there was a new problem. Who would rent to him? Eighteen years old, no credit score, working minimum wage… disowned…

Steve finally broke down and called the only adult he thought could help: Jim Hopper.

He hadn't known what to expect when what was essentially a gruff acquaintance answered after three rings.

Hopper's first question was if Steve was safe.

"I move the car around to different spots each night. I know the public pool staff, so I go in early to shower there."

Hopper exhaled heavily. "How long have you been living out of the car?"

"Just a couple of weeks..."

"Moving the car regularly, that was smart kid." He sighed again. "Okay, we're gonna get you set up to find some section eight housing. You're going to qualify…" Hopper began before detailing all the assistance Steve did have available to him.

…

Hopper met him later that day to look at places with him. He cosigned on an apartment and helped Steve out with his truck, thrifting necessary furniture and basic cookware. Hopper asked once if Steve wanted the others to know, mentioning they'd want to help. Steve insisted Hopper's help was enough. Beyond enough. Steve had no idea how he could begin to thank him. The apartment rental had required a background check. The background check required Steve's previous name. Hopper saw. He knew and nothing changed.

After Steve was set up with necessities, Hop hugged him, and they never spoke of it again.

...

Steve's job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy was going fine, but he hadn't really 'bounced back.' His flirting attempts fell flat. He was grateful that his slump hadn't affected his relationships with the kids. At least he still kept in touch with them. He even had a co-worker who, for the first time since Nancy, would make him feel safe. He realized he could be himself with her, without having to guard any part of his identity. Unfortunately, this breakthrough came after more Upside Down fuckery and the Russian military. Literally the Russian military in Hawkins, IN.

Robin Buckley aided their ever-growing trauma-family and was rewarded the same way they all were: psychological and physical injury and eventually a non-disclosure agreement from the government.

She'd revealed her closeted truth to him. They were still loopy, on the public bathroom floor nearest the mall's movie theater, but no longer in an actively drugged state. Whatever 'truth serum,' chemical cocktail the Russian doctors injected them with, in an attempt to get them to reveal that they worked for someone other than Scoops Ahoy, had been yacked out. Robin told him of her frustration at Steve in high school. Girls fawned over him, and she felt she'd never have even one notice her.

Steve was in awe of Robin, supporting him, fighting to keep the kids safe, and now that trust. In return, Steve worked to make her smile, make her laugh. He'd definitely fallen for Robin but even he knew, could feel, that it was a different love than what he'd known for Nancy. Closer to what he felt for the kids.

I know there are supposed to be different types of love. I just dunno what this one is supposed to be called.

A 'mall fire' was the cover story for the Mindflayer's victims, the Russian madness, and, to everyone's horror, Hopper's death. Robin's parents picked her up from the emergency vehicles as did the rest of the kids' families, after being checked out by government agents. Even El bittersweetly had someone to take her home. A contingency plan few had known about made it so Joyce Byers now had custody of 'Jane Hopper.'

Hop was gone and everyone else had homes… families to return to. Steve was almost grateful that the EMTs said he needed to stay a night at the hospital under supervision. They'd determined he'd suffered another concussion. The news was practically a relief. Steve didn't have to haul himself back to his empty, one bedroom apartment yet.

'Hawkins lab' took care of the bill for Steve's treatment. He absently realized if they hadn't been aware of his medical history, they probably were now. Hopefully, there'd be no ramifications from the sketchy government types if he came to deal with them in the future. It seemed likely. The terrors of the Upside Down didn't feel far away. The scale of the Mindflayer gripped Steve's heart with an icy fear for the future villains they might face, seeping up from the 'other Hawkins.' Beings that seemed to be increasing in intelligence and purpose.

When Steve was released from Hawkins Memorial Hospital, he plugged his phone into his car charger. After he'd been cleared to drive, Steve had found the beamer waiting for him in the visitor parking lot. He decided that it was one of those things not worth questioning. Messages flooded in on his device, including repeated missed calls from Robin.

He'd given her a ride or two to work before, so he knew exactly where he needed to go. Steve drove directly to her house and parked on the street. The Buckleys lived in a one story, ranch style home, and Steve silently thanked the powers that be he didn't have to climb to get to Robin's window. It was about ten pm and he really didn't want to bother with the questions her parents might have. He carefully skirted the house before locating her room. The curtains were parted, revealing the warm glow of a lamp on a nightstand, illuminating Robin curled up on the bed inside. She was wrapped around a large plush shark. A laptop was on the bed, a few inches from her, playing what he vaguely recognized as the Trolls movie. Steve tapped on the window as cautiously as he could.

Robin jolted immediately, turning toward the sound. She let out a sort of garbled 'Steve,' and raced over to open the window, pulling him in.

They hugged each other tightly. "Dingus, you didn't answer your phone," she said, sounding choked as her head shook against his shoulder.

"Phone died."

Robin pulled back, her nose crinkled. "Steve, oh my god. They couldn't give you anything else to wear?"

"Didn't want to come over in the hospital gown," he replied, shrugging. He could have gone to his place first, but then again he couldn't've. He needed to see Robin again, know she was alright. The others had been through some degree of it all before (except for Erica, but she had Lucas to help her). The kids had their phones but also the walkies for unmonitored discussion of the events from the past week. He figured Robin would need him about as much as he needed her.

She grabbed the barely charged phone from his limp grip and plugged it into her charger. "Okay. That'll help some. Dustin's freaking out about you. The others too, but y'know."

"I know."

Dustin's sweet 'you die, I die,' declaration from the elevator hadn't left Steve's mind. But Dustin and the others had been updated on Steve's condition before his phone died. Robin seemed to already understand that 'worry' would be everyone's default for a while.

"Here. I've got to have some clothes that'll fit you." Robin turned toward her closet.

He'd already decided. Robin had been completely open with him, Steve felt he owed it to her to do the same. If he was being honest with himself, he craved a friendship where he wouldn't worry that slipping off his shirt would ruin it.

"Robin, wait. I need to tell you something."

She gave him her full attention while joking. "Can't it wait until after we burn that uniform?"

"Uh no. Actually not, uh, not really." Like a bandaid? Steve let out a steadying breath. "Robs, I'm… I'm trans."

He eyebrows shot up and then down. Her jaw dropped. "What? No." She shook her head. "What?"

"Yeah, ha, uh. Surprise? Is that…" He bit his lip, hating the shame and uncertainty beginning to boil in his stomach like a deep indigestion. "Is it um-"

Robin cut him off, arms wrapped around him in another hug. "You're okay," she said. "We're okay."

"Yeah?" He whispered the question, needing to hear the acceptance again but feeling ashamed to be so... needy.

"Yeah," Robin replied in a kind but firm tone. She pulled back slightly. "Though I still… Seriously 'king' Steve is lgb't?'" Questions began to pour out. "That's mind blowing. Who else knows? Oh gosh, who do you want to know? And why did you tell me? I mean I'd never out you… but this is a big deal right? Just, wow."

Steve kissed the top of her head and sort of grimaced. "I know, and you know. It wasn't something I was allowed to talk about and now, I dunno."

She cocked her head to the side and lightly rested her hand against his injured face. "Thanks for letting me in. Steve, really. Is it weird to tell you I think you might be my best friend?"

Steve's heart felt fit to burst. "Really?" His voice dropped to a whisper again.

"Really. You're my schmuck, remember?" She leaned up a little and kissed his less beaten cheek before turning back to her dresser.

Robin pulled out a large shirt that had a faded image of the Great Lakes on it and a pair of sweatpants she assured Steve were giant on her. He nodded and was about to remove his shirt when she suddenly stopped rambling about the clothes. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Robin took in a deep breath and spoke carefully. "Can I see…?" She moved her hand over her chest in a manner that looked almost as if she had failed to properly cross herself.

Steve thought about it. He wasn't ashamed of his chest. In fact, he loved it. The faded jagged scars next to the surgical ones. They were an emancipation, and, he loved the way his torso looked. But…

"No one's really seen it."

Robin's eyes were wide though her brow was pinched. "I'm sorry. Honestly, just curious. I want to hear your whole story. But I'm not gonna demand to know everything. You telling me in the first place is… huge. Just. I wanna be your person. So share whatever you're comfortable with. Know I'm interested and I care." She shrugged.

Steve chuckled. "My platonic person?" Platonic. That's it, the type of love I couldn't name.

She snorted. "Obviously. You forget?" She shoved his shoulder without any real force. "Not into dudes like that."

Steve took off the bloodied Scoops uniform, toed into the sweatpants, and then turned around so Robin could see.

"Wow," she gasped. She reached out but stopped halfway as though mentally schooling herself. "Can I um…"

"Yeah. Sure." He thought he might flinch or suddenly feel dysphoric with her hand on the left scar, but instead he was simply reminded his body was littered with other scars. His new bruises and cuts were sensitive, but they would heal like the others. Like the one Robin curiously starred at now.

Robin was mindful of the fresh damage, lightly tracing over his skin. "Steve… Did the first top surgery, uh, not take?"

He laughed and finished dressing.

They lay in Robin's bed that night. Steve started talking about his top surgery and, before he knew it, spilled his whole life story to her. Robin took it all in stride. It was difficult but liberating. She shared too, thoughts, feelings, reactions. It felt inaugural, like the first sleepover of many with his best friend. His person.

#trans steve harrington #steveharrington #steve Harrington #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #platonic stobin #a tiny splash of stancy #trans masc steve #trans masc #trans mlm #future steddie #modern au #stealth #angst #platonic soulmates #my person #i write things #robin Buckley #nancy wheeler #jim hopper & steve harrington

[domsaysstuff]

Season 2 of Russian Doll Steve Harrington-centric au

I have only some vague plot and just some scenes from the show down but I'll probably never write this and I need to get this out of my head so here we go! Another Dom's au idea dump! (I missed them)

Season 4 never happened btw but 1 through 3 did, also Eddie Munson never existed in Hawkins in this AU

Steve's mother is dying, Steve's mother is dying and he wishes he could feel something other than anger about it, he wishes he could be sad because his mother is dying but she hasn't really been a mother for him for a long time now

But she's dying and Steve still feels like the lanky teenager that observed and analyzed every breath of Cynthia Harrington to know why she hasn't loved him, or moreso why she loved him and yet it wasn't enough for her to care about him

He just wishes he had something to mourn a relationship that never was

She is dying and she's reaching out to Stevie after years of not talking after he packed his bags and moved with Robin to Chicago and haven't looked back since then

She wants him to come and he thinks it's cruel of her to want him there when all she's going to do is left him one last time

He is debating with himself whether to return to Hawkins or not when he takes his morning train to work

And that's when the time fuckery starts, he like Nadia becomes his mother(because we are keeping the gender fuckery that was Alan becoming his grandmother, like Stevie is just gender™ like that) who is very much pregnant, the baby is obvs him, unborn yet and they are in New York or some big city like that (for pain it could be Chicago and maybe Steve never knew she was born in Chicago, that somehow he followed in her footsteps) because Cynthia has always been a big city girl, it was Richard Harrington that wanted to move to Hawkins, to settle down there

When he figures it out he tries to change his fate, he thinks he is here to fix things, to give himself and his mother better life, one where she was happy, one where she maybe loved him enough to care

He knows he needs to leave, he packs her bags and tries to escape by taking the train and it just takes him back

He comes back to his apartment with Robin and spills everything to her, they have survived shit™ so she believes him, but tells him to not mess with time shit but he's determined that he can just fix it, fix everything

So he goes back and finds out that Cynthia is still with her parents, still to be married to Richard, he founds out that the escape did happen but she returned when she realized she was with a baby, has no money, no other people than her family that is pushing her to marry Richard since she is already carrying his child and she's so young, barely eighteen

She chicken out, so he tries other means and somehow somewhere there as his mother he falls for Eddie Munson, Eddie who he never heard of, Eddie who his mother never spoken a word of (his mother hasn't told him many things)

So he falls for Eddie because Eddie is so kind and free and different and he loves him, god he loves him, learns about his mother's past and it's all doomed anyway because the problem of Cynthia Harrington was that she was doomed from her birth and it's the same shit as in the show that every decision that Steve makes doesn't matter, they end up exactly the same anyway

Side plot is Robin taking the train and becoming her grandma and learning her grandma was the same as her, that she was queer, that she fell in love with Vickie, she falls in love with Vickie and it's a doomed romance, she comes back to her present time and learns that Vickie died just two years after Robin/her grandma met her and she tries to prevent that, she thinks she is there to prevent that, in the end she can't, in the end Vickie dies and Robin loved her god she loved her so much

There are obvs intermissions where Stevie and Robin are in the present together and talk and scheme and try to make it all right

Stevie like Nadia steals himself as a baby because he thinks he can raise himself better, that he and Robin can do a better job and the scene where Nadia gives Alan the baby-her and says think of all the things i could be if i was raised with love and as Robin holds baby-him "just what i was talking about" because Robin loves him and he knows she will love baby-him

Also maybe the rest of the party come to Chicago at some point because they heard the news and are there to support Steve and are sucked into the chaos but also meet a random baby and as Steve sees baby-himself surrounded by the party who even tho question from where the fuck did Robin and Steve have gotten a baby are taking care of it anyway

It's just- Steve finally learning his mother, gaining knowledge why she's like that, how she was before him, that him and her are quite similar, that they both loved Eddie Munson and lost him and it will hurt them for the rest of their life, Stevie coming back to Hawkins to say goodbye to his mom

Because he wouldn't chose her to be his mother but that's how the story goes and he knows her and understands her now and they both deserve to say goodbye

#this is very incoherent like always #also i'm being insane about russian doll s2 again - i just think that season is very underappreciated #platonic stobin is everything to me and Robin holding little Steve and Steve being like this is where I belong in her arms #this is where im loved??? #also doomed romance my beloved #the complicated relationship that you have with your mother and somehow becoming her my beloved #trying to stop the past but just repeating it my beloved-detested #steddie #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #robin x vickie #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #russian doll s2 au #dom's au idea of the day

[artiststarme]

A Hopper Snippet from "What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins?"

So this is a Hopper POV set sometime between the second and third parts of the story. I didn't think it fit well in the story but it works as an extra snippet!

~*~*~*~

Hopper had been through a lot. He’d lost his mother at a young age, gone to war and seen things that no one should ever see. He lost his little girl far too soon, was presumed dead after the mall fire, and was tortured for months in a Russian prison. With that being said, he’s never felt as panicked and frantic as he did right now learning that the boy he considered a son was gone. 

“Okay, what do you mean he disappeared? Did he just take a day for himself or is this another Barbara Holland situation?” He asked the kids, trying to remain calm.

“No! He’s gone. Eddie and I went to his house and his dad said that he kicked him out. We can’t find him, Steve is missing!” Dustin wailed, teetering on the verge of tears. 

“Do you have any idea where he would go? Did you check with Nancy or Robin? He wouldn’t just leave.” Steve was an extrovert at heart and Hopper found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t contact at least one of his friends that he was close to. 

“Hopper, I’m telling you that no one has seen him in weeks. He stopped wanting to hang out with us so we were giving him space. Nancy hasn’t talked to him since the grad party and Robin is out of town. We don’t know where else he would go because he doesn’t have any friends besides us!”

Hopper’s heart shuttered. If he truly got kicked out by his parents, why wouldn’t he come to him? He always made a point of letting Steve know that he would always be welcome at the cabin when he helped rebuild it. Every gathering at Joyce’s, he would let him know how important he was to the group. But thinking back, Hopper had never blatantly said that Steve was the son he’d always wanted, that he liked having him around and being able to check in on the kid. 

He probably didn’t leave. If his parents truly did kick him out of their museum of a home, he was probably just sulking about it at the quarry or in the woods somewhere. Steve wouldn’t just ditch town, no way.

Hopper nodded to himself, appeased at his attempt at self comfort. “Alright, I’m going to go talk to Richard and Cynthia. You kids head home and I’ll call you later to let you know what I find out. I’m sure he’s just hiding out somewhere around town. Got it?”

The kids nodded sullenly and made their way out of the station and to their bikes. Hopper sighed, when he found the kid, he was going to smack him upside the head for making them all worry. He just hoped he found him soon.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue

Updated Taglist: @nickavalens @conversesweetheart @themostunoriginalpersonever @swimmingbirdrunningrock @eddiethegreatteddybear @harrumphingtons @call-me-big-eyes @moonshadows-13 @glittergluekintsugi @cpidcupk @doubleb11 @mentalcyborg @amoris-no-smut-allowed @purple-lemonade @labels-are-for-the-weak @thebrazilianatheist @rajumat @livelaughlexa @5ammi90 @colorful565 @marvelousforlife @chaoticcoffeequeen @gregre369 @suddenlyinlove @thegreatmistake @stillfullofshit @nburkhardt @batxsignalsx @newunknowns @thosemessyvibes @tailsfromthecrypt @luciana-rowan @bird-with-pencils @adaed5 @lolawon @flustratedcas @iwillfindmyneverland @messrs-weasley @skoomy-doompy @yearningagain @forest-fogg @bitchysunflower @stardust-era @newtstabber @bobatrash-queen @notjasontxdd @ohlook-afrog @00biscuit @grtwdsmwhr @oxidantdreamboat @the-witch-forever-lives @estrellami-1 @whatthemeepever @a-simple-gaywitch @imzadidragonfly @freddykicksasses @krimsonsimp

@whatthefuccck @delta-piscium @anaibis @tinynebula @darkwitchoferie @evix-syne666 @tawghasa @pyrohonk @lillys-weird-world @superduckmilkshake @paintsplatteredandimperfect @tiny-enthusiast @whalesharksart @krazyperson @username-i-guess @ilikechocolatemilkh @awkwardgravity1 @romanticdestruction @espressopatronum454 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit

#Haha you guys thought I was done #NOPE #should I post some more snippets like this one? #feel free to ask me questions or send messages! #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #steddie #fanfic #mike wheeler #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #stanger things #chief jim hopper #joyce byers

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Black Women in Horror/Monsters & More Masterlist

Black Women in Horror | Final Girls | Slayers | BFCD Monsters & More Masterlists 

.

Abbie Mills Sleepy Hollow | Abby Williams Abby 1974 | Abigail Bellweather Motherland: Fort Salem | Abigail Bennett The Vampire Diaries | Adelaide Wilson/Red Us | Alberta Ghosts US | Alexa Woods Alien VS Predator | Alice Autofac, Electric Dreams | Alma Walker American Horror Story: Asylum | Amy Bellafonte The Passage | Akasha Queen of the Damned |  Amanda Fisher Ash VS Evil Dead |  Anacostia Quartermaine Motherland: Fort Salem | Angelina Johnson Harry Potter Verse | Aneela Kin Rit Killjoys | Anita Friday the 13th Pt 5: A New Beginning |  Anne Body Bags: The Gas Station | Anne Marie McCoy Candyman | Annie Keller Monsterland | Annie Sawyer Being Human UK | Apocalypta Dead 7 | Annabelle Cane The Magnus Archives | Ariel The Little Mermaid | Aya Al-Rashid The Originals

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Beatrice Bennett The Vampire Diaries |  Belle Fright Night: Part II | Beloved (Book and Movie Beloved) | Bernadette Walsh Candyman | Bertha Van Weld Sanjay and Craig | Betty Resident Evil | Billie Supernatural | Bonnie Bennett The Vampire Diaries | Braeden Teen Wolf | Bree The Vampire Diaries | Brianna Cartwright Candyman Reboot | Brianna Collier Escape Room 2 |  Bubble Valerian and The City of a Thousand Planets |

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Candace Preston Light As a Feather | Carla Spectros | Carmen Eguiluz Always a Witch | Carola Tales from the Darkside: The Movie | Caroline Newcliffe The Beast Must Die | Catarina Loss Shadowhunters | Charvel Bellweather Motherland: Fort Salem | Chocolate Rats Night of Terror | Christine Daae The Phantom of the Opera | Cisely Batiste Eve’s Bayou | Claudette Morel Dead By Daylight | Clementine Chasseur Hemlock Grove | Cleo Sowande Legacies | Cleophas Garroway Shadowhunters | Connie The Walking Dead | Cressida Into the Badlands | Cym The Forsaken | Cynthia Bones |

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Dana Cardinal Welcome to Nightvale | Dead Girl Jessebelle | Death of the Endless Sandman | Detective Evans Chucky | Diane Death Bed | Donna Siren | Donna Chadway Stigmata | Dr. Cushing Tales from the Hood |

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Efiya Kingdom of Souls Series | Ela I AM |  Elizabeth Henshaw The Haunted Mansion | Élodie Rakoto Dead by Daylight | Elphaba Wicked | Elzora Eve’s Bayou | Emily Bennett The Vampire Diaries | Epiphany Proudfoot Angelheart | Evillene The Wiz

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Farah Hauville The Wayhaven Chronicles | Fiji Cavanaugh Midnight, Texas | Fliss Dubois Man of Medan | Freak Bride (Kimmy) The Purge: Election Year | Frey Holland Forspoken | Fringilla Vigo The Witcher 

.

Ganja Meda Ganja & Hess | Georgie Barker The Magnus Archives | Gladys Cravitz Chucky | Glinda The Wizard of Oz/Wiz | Grace Creepshow Series: Sibling Rivalry | Grandmother Raised by Wolves |  Gretel Monroe  Shadowhunters

.

Hallie McDaniel Scream 2 | Hanna Lovecraft Country | Hannah Grose The Haunting of Bly Manor | Harriet Johnson The House on Skull Mountain | Hermione Granger Weasley  Harry Potter Verse | Hippolyta Freeman Lovecraft Country |

.

Izzy Bit |

.

Jackie Heath The Devil’s Advocate | Jada Shields Charmed Reboot | Jade Wesker Resident Evil | Jennifer Remming Sweetheart | Jeryline Demon Knight | Jill The Skeleton Key |  Jillian Hope Hodgson Channel Zero: The Dream Door | Jordan Gladwell iZombie | Jungle Julia Death Proof |

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Kachiri Twlight | Kaela Evers Supernova | Karen Jenson Blade | Karla Wilson I Still Know What You Did Last Summer | Kate Wynona Earp | Katrina Vamp | Keisha Taylor Alice Isn’t Dead | Kelly The Walking Dead | Kendra Young Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Kindzi Defiance | Kira The Invitation 2015 | Kitty Ghosts UK | Koster Shocking Dark | Kym Hawkins Legacies |

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Lacey Emery Ash VS Evil Dead | Ladybird Dracula, NBC | Lanaia Shadowhunters | Laney Rucker The Purge: Election Year | Lauren Howell The Day of the Dead TV |  Leeza Scarborough Midnight Mass | Lena Aruza Night of the Cobra Woman | Linda B Emery Ash VS Evil Dead | Lisa Fortier Scream, Blacula, Scream | Lizzie The Perfection | Lorena Christophe The House on Skull Mountain | Lucinda & Melissa Cavender  ABC Family’s Halloween special ‘The Midnight Hour’ | Luisa Manjimbe Mortel |  Lydia Daybreak Paradise Killer

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Macy Vaughn Charmed Reboot | Madame Zeroni Holes | Maddie Bishop Siren | Maeve Millay Westworld | Maia Roberts Shadowhunters | Mama Cecile The Skeleton Key | Maria Trick ‘R Treat | Maria Elkman Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest | Mariana The Howling 2: Your Sister is a Werewolf | Marie Laveau American Horror Story | Marlene The Last of Us | Matty Mereaux Eve’s Bayou | Mazikeen DC Universe | Medusa Greek Mythology | Melanie The Girl with The Gifts | Merrick The Vampire Chronicles: Merrick | Mia Vallens Supernatural | Michonne The Walking Dead | Mileena Mortal Kombat 2021 | Minerva Bellweather Motherland: Fort Salem | Miranda Dubaur Twitches | Miranda Grey Gothika | Miss Cobbs Tales from the Hood | Missouri Moseley Supernatural | Mistress East Emerald City | Misty Carpenter Into the Dark: Crawlers | Mozelle Batiste Delacroix Eve’s Bayou | Ms. Connors Class of 1999

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Nada The Sandman | Nadia Omar Castle Rock | Nari Unfriended: Dark Web | Natalie Gorman Servant | Nicole Birch The Order | Nora Harris The Last of Us 2 |

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Old Woman Josie Welcome to Nightvale | Olivia Two Sentence Horror Stories: Teeth

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Pamela Winchell Welcome to Nightvale | Pauline Christophe The House on Skull Mountain | Pearl Bones | Petra Bellweather Motherland: Fort Salem | Phoebe Taylor A Discovery of Witches | Portia Supernatural | Prudence Blackwood The Sabrina Show on Netflix | Purna Jackson Dead Island

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Queenie American Horror Story

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Ramona Royale American Horror Story: Hotel | Raquel Francis Crazyhead |  Reba McClane Hannibal | Rebecca Jessel  The Haunting of Bly Manor | Regina Moss Malignant | Riley Abel The Last of Us | Rita Veder Vampire in Brooklyn | Roberta Warren Z Nation | Robin Ayou Subnautica: Below Zero | Rochelle Left 4 Dead | Rochelle Zimmerman The Craft | Rosalind Walker Sabrina Netflix | Rose Granger Weasley Harry Potter Verse | Rosemary Demons | Roxanne Weasley  Harry Potter Verse | Roz Batiste Eve’s Bayou | Ruby Baptiste Lovecraft Country | Ruby Williams The People Under the Stairs |

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Sasha Williams The Walking Dead | Senna  Twilight | Sheila Bennett The Vampire Diaries | Sheva Alomar Resident Evil 5 | Simone Bethson The Saw Franchise | Sunny Nwazue  The Nsibidi Scripts |

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Tabby The Craft Legacy | Tallulah Tales from the Crypt: Bordello of Blood |  Tara Thornton True Blood | The Temptress Def By Temptation |  Tituba Salem | Topsy and Bopsy Lovecraft Country |

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Valentina Suicide by Sunlight | Vanessa Brooks Blade | Vampira | Vampirella | Vicky Stanton Children of the Corn 2009 | Viv Allen October Faction |

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Wilhamena Mettle OK Let’s Be Heroes |

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Yvonne A Nightmare on Elm Street Series |

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Zafrina Twilight | Zoe Head Count |

Children in Horror | BFCD Family Friendly Spooky Season |

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Abra Stone Doctor Sleep |  Chichi of Nimm The Nsibidi Scripts | Clementine The Walking Dead Game | Diana Freeman Lovecraft Country | Erica Sinclair Stranger Things | Eve Batiste Eve’s Bayou | Yasmin Nightbooks | Zora Wilson Us |

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Bree Disney’s Z-O-M-B-I-E-S | Clawdeen, Clawdia, Wolf Monster High | Eliza Zambi Disney’s Z-O-M-B-I-E-S | Harper Dunn Secrets of Sulphur Springs |  Honey Swamp Monster High | Howleen Wolf Monster High | Kelly Ferguson A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting | Luna The Hex Girls, Scooby Doo | Luz Noceda The Owl House | Marceline The Vampire Queen Adventure Time | Maya Abeola Maya and the Rising Dark Series | Megan Evers The Haunted Mansion | Robecca Steam Monster High | Sarah Fox My Babysitter’s a Vampire | Taranee Cook W.I.T.C.H. | Uncanny Valley Miraculous Ladybug | Willa Lykensen Disney’s Z-O-M-B-I-E-S |  Wydowna Spider Monster High

*List will be updated throughout October* 

#Black Women in Horror #Children in Horror #long post #BFCD Spooky Season #October #BFCD Masterlist #BFCD Black Women in Horror Masterlist #black female characters #monster girls #slayers

[heavencasteel420]

It's wild to me when people miss just how bad Lonnie Byers is. I didn't watch the first season too closely the first time around, but I distinctly remember being taken aback by his malevolence. I think I was familiar with Joyce's general situation as a struggling single mom going in, and, before I knew any details, I was sort of picturing her ex-husband as a messy, disappointing, absent father with substance abuse problems. Definitely the kind of guy who can wreak a lot of havoc on his family, but not necessarily cruel or ill-meaning. But, almost immediately, information was revealed that made me go "oh, this guy is just bad news and the rest of the family needs restraining orders yesterday." For example:

Joyce says that he called Will (a twelve-year-old who's never had a romantic relationship and may not even be fully aware of his sexuality) the f-slur. Even in the ranks of homophobic and toxic-masculinity-ridden parents, this is the nuclear option. Lonnie's not ignoring that his son could be gay, as many homophobic parents are content to do; he's picked up on it and he's decided to reject him right away. He's not stopping at calling him a girl or a sissy (which would still be hurtful and damaging); he's using the nastiest slur he can. This shows an astounding level of cruelty.

He doesn't return Joyce's calls about their missing tween son and, when Jonathan confronts him about it, he doesn't just claim not to have gotten them or make a weak excuse, like a dysfunctional but not deliberately mean parent might. Instead, he smirks and makes the ridiculous claim that he thought Joyce just forgot where Will was. Which, to me, suggests that he took some sadistic pleasure in making Joyce worry.

He's just so incredibly..."off" with Jonathan in the Indianapolis scenes. On some level, I think he's trying to be a "cool dad" and "win" the divorce: disparaging Joyce, saying that he wants to spend time with Jonathan, introducing Jonathan to Cynthia in a sort of proud way, showing off his car. This would be lousy in any context, but it's downright disturbing that he thinks he can do this when Jonathan is (a) frantically searching for Will (for whom Lonnie shows no concern) and (b) obviously angry at and wary (if not outright scared) of Lonnie. He's standing there looking amused seconds after Jonathan, in clear distress, shoves him off. There's just no recognition of what Jonathan is going through.

The whole Cynthia thing is weird, right? She goes from being pissed/alarmed that Jonathan (a stranger to her) has entered the house for unknown reasons, to looking kind of horrified/sad when she realizes that Jonathan is Lonnie's son, to joking with Lonnie that she might trade him in for the "younger model." Which kind of makes it seem like she thinks Lonnie will like this joke about how she, an adult woman, wants to have sex with his sixteen-year-old son. Like it'll appeal to his vanity or something, because he sees Jonathan as an extension of himself. Now, I think there are plenty of situations where well-meaning parents might not see an issue with other adults complimenting their child's appearance; it's pretty normalized in many circles to say "he's gonna be a heartbreaker" or "I bet you have to beat the boys off with a stick" or whatever. But usually it isn't on the level of "I'd do him."

Lonnie acts so different when he comes to Hawkins for the funeral, and, having seen him in Indianapolis, it comes across as extremely insincere from the beginning. He's going to play the authoritarian father and tell Jonathan to take down his Evil Dead poster after his weird-ass "cool dad" performance? Gross.

I think the number that Lonnie does on Joyce and Jonathan to keep them from communicating is, in a quiet way, the most upsetting thing that happens in the entire show. It's the show's equivalent of the door-close scene in The Godfather. This is the closest that Joyce ever comes to giving up on finding Will; the fake body and the US government can't make her doubt herself as completely as Lonnie can, with a bottle of vodka and some phony kindness. Meanwhile, Lonnie knows exactly where to hit Jonathan to make him keep his mouth shut. He doesn't have Jonathan's love or respect, and Jonathan's not too afraid to confront him directly, but telling him that he'll hurt his mom and make her crazy if he says anything does the trick. It's chilling because you can easily imagine that this has happened many times in the Byers family ("Of course I didn't cheat on you/gamble away your paycheck/hit the kids, Joyce! I'm really worried about you--you're imagining things that aren't there" or "Don't go telling your mother about this--you know how upset she gets. You don't want to do that to her, right? You're going to make her sick").

So it's pretty galling when fans (and, honestly, sometimes the show) minimizes how rancid he is.

#lonnie byers #joyce byers #jonathan byers #will byers #tw child abuse #tw domestic abuse #tw csa #(in an abundance of caution) #i think it's telling that so much has to happen for jonathan to tell joyce anything #he's gotta be in a room with her (noticeably less frail and unsure than earlier) #hopper (an authority figure who's been kind to him and his mom and has expressed a genuine desire to know) #and nancy (who encouraged him to tell his mom about the demogorgon from the beginning)

[words-after-midnight]

Mid-year TBR update 📚

See my original TBR list for 2023 here. More have since been added.

Note: I now have a Goodreads (under my pen name), but Goodreads doesn't do decimal ratings, so I round up. The below ratings are more accurate; I can count my five star books on one hand. Five stars for me means "there was nothing about this book that I would consider a 'con' or point of critique," which doesn't happen often (for me personally).

Read (in no particular order):

Sundial by Catriona Ward | 4.75/5

The Secret History by Donna Tartt | 4.5/5

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides | 2/5

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger | 4.5/5

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins | 4.75/5

These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever | 4/5

The Long Walk by Stephen King | 4.5/5

Currently reading & current TBR below the cut! ⬇️

Currently reading:

Sunset by @sunset-a-story & @touloserlautrec [Beta reading]

To read:

[Note: I removed the series (for now) that were listed in my original TBR list because I don't have the bandwidth to read longer series right now. Maybe next year!]

Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolás

ALiCE by Avalon Roselin

They Hate Each Other by Amanda Woody

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

Violence Without Plot by Ellie Renae (@ellierenae)

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio

November Breaks by Winter Simpson (@winterandwords)

Crime Scene by Cynthia Pelayo

Red X by David Demchuk

#tbr #bookblr #reading tag