#Like el and Theo too

[flameblessed]

/// spoilers

// seeing gifs of that scene with Clive and Joshua makes me get teary eyed

[gayofthefae]

Y'all want Mike and Will's first kiss to be passionate but tbh I still want it to be like Boris and Theo's. Honestly, a good face hold is all I ask for. I've never been a fan of stand still kisses.

(neither has Mike)

Sorry I had to this photo is forever in my camera roll

[tgfautism]

the two sides of theodore decker fr

[00belle00lovely00]

I love your Theodore and Matthew comic!

Do you have any ideas on what the other kids were like before they all became the Smiling Critters?

As well as ideas on how Theodore met The Prototype…?

Like these fellows actually! I didn't get the time to colour the rest of the crew but I will eventually!

KIDS AGES

yes everyone except Theodore has their name as an ironic pun, I couldn't contain myself

Theodore Grambell: 7 years old

Matthew Beagle: 7 years old (he insists he's 7 1/2)

David Lian: 9 years old

Harley El-ahrairah: 9 years old

Abbigail Rosenberg: 8 years old

Lauren J. Faust: 8 years old

Pom Eline: 12 years old

Sheldon Mnemosyne: 13 years old

OH! And about the prototype! Well, basically we could say (because I'm too lazy to do ANOTHER comic right after this one) that one night Theo was having a very bad dream and wanted to go get some water. Only to be met by the prototype spookin' him up a little.

And of course, slowly manipulating his way into becoming Theo's friend. And eventually his "monster under the bed". Quite literally and metaphorically speaking.

Actually, BECAUSE of the prototype we could say that's how Theodore became so distant with the other kids, those little fingery metal needles feeding him with paranoia about those kids not to be trusted.

Poor baby didn't know he was being manipulated into that thing's grasp......

OH, BTW YOU CAN GO ON THE ASK BOX ON THESE FELLOWS FOR MORE STUFF!!!!! EVEN DIRECTLY TO THEM, TO HELL WITH IT, YOU CAN BE A UH...

WORKER???? OR SOMETHING?

A KID? IDFK PLEASE JUST DON'T DO DISGUSTING OR CRAZY SHIT. LET'S BE CIVIL ABOUT THIS. THEY'RE KIDS.

(btw you can guess that by the tags there's certain people who have crushes on certain others)

[gleefullypolin]

Another of my musings, shall we? Indulge me...

Today, let’s talk about why Cressida was never set up as a redemption story in Season 3, but simply as a lesson for our three main character leads…

I’ve seen a lot of discourse around the treatment of Cressida in Season 3, and I find it kinda funny because Cress has always been a side character and never a main plot point and it was very evident this season that it was still very much the case. In Season 3, she was what is known as a plot device. The point of a plot device is to jettison the main characters forward.

So, let’s look at how they used her to do that this season.

Eloise Bridgerton:

Cressida was a huge plot device in moving Eloise’s story along in a heavy way this season. El has been very close to being stuck in quicksand for a while now. What do we know about her character between S1 to now?

She doesn’t want to get married.

She believes that women are held back but is questioning her place in society and what to do about that.

She’s angry at Pen and feels betrayed by friendship currently.

So, when we last left her, her closest relationship ended because Penelope was Lady Whistledown, she realized she knew nothing about the one person she thought she was closest with, her belief that her say in the world as a woman was rocked, and the one connection with a man she ever had, Theo, dissolved before her.

She goes off to the country and meets up with Cressida, the one person who hates the person she also dislikes the most currently, who befriends her and thus we start the new season.

But in the story, Cress is now there to show Eloise a different side of the Ton. Eloise has always had a not so small issue…her mouth. It NEVER stops. She literally never shuts up. Pen was the type where she let her go on and on and on, and never stepped in to stop her. But Cress is like... Ok shut up, stop talking now and listen because bad shit is happening to me and I need you to hear about it.

And El finally saw that life outside the Bridgerton drawing room, was shit. Not every Mama will protect you from marriage you don’t want, not every word said at a ball stays between friends, and not every friend is welcomed by your family. El had to grow up this year. She had to learn that her family protected her from things others were subjected to.

El whispered in the ballroom about her brother helping Pen find a husband and that rumor spread like wildflower and El was quick to blame that on Cressida, only to find out that it was her own mouth that spread the rumor because she didn’t think, she just spoke loudly in the ballroom with no thought of consequence for her actions. And it was Cressida who had to point it out to her, Plot point made.

Cressida was desperate to escape a life her father was forcing her into. El could have easily been forced into marriage to a man thrice her age, but she was not. But she was still El. And El was caught up in her own worries with Pen/Colin suddenly announcing their engagement and she didn’t listen to Cressida’s concerns.  She didn’t see the desperation until it was too late, and Cress stood up and claimed she was Lady Whistledown.

It was only once Cressida, with no other alternatives left on her plate, and no loving parent to guide her, chose a path that led her to take actions against Pen/Colin by writing against the Bridgertons and blackmailing them that Eloise truly was forced to face herself and forgive Penelope and see the difference in how Pen wrote versus how someone with no remorse or responsibility held the quill. Plot point made.

But she then sees the difference in how Pen stands up and takes responsibility for her actions, faces consequences, holds her own as a woman of the ton and gives her back a bit of understanding that a woman can have a voice in the world. Now we see El facing that she has much to learn and going off into the world with excitement to find it.

Penelope Bridgerton:

Cress has always propelled Pen forward as a plot device, the evil queen who tortures the princess as the knight in shining armor comes to her rescue.

Case in point, Season 1, spills her drink, Colin to the rescue, I’m afraid I’m to escort Miss Featherington to the floor. Season 2, she tries to take Eloise from her, for her to be rebuffed, then she dances with Colin happily for him to only use her as a ruse to once again save Pen from Jack Featherington’s ruby scheme. And then Season 3, she does take Eloise from her, stands on her dress for Colin to chase after her, then tries to defeat her in her pursuit for Debling as a suitor.

All of these plot devices move Pen’s story forward. They have a purpose of either knocking her down a peg or by having a man dive in to rescue her thus making her feel important. This season ramped it up a notch as Cressida came after her true worth. Lady Whistledown. Sure, going after Debling was part of it, but one could argue that Debling was a red herring. Pen never truly cared about him. But Lady Whistledown was her true value.

Having Cressida take her prize, was the true crux of the plot device for Pen this season. Cressida stole her glory by claiming to be the one thing that Penelope truly felt she was worthy of. The power of Whisteldown. And once that was taken from Cressida by her proving to the Queen that Cressida was a fraud, once Pen felt she had beat her, Cressida struck the final blow in their showdown by trying to take away her worth and ruin her in the eyes of her family.

Having Cressida out her to her mother and then strike the blow to her new husband by demanding they pay her with blackmail and humiliation to destroy any hope of love and happiness that Pen had found was the final act of villainy in their story.

This was the part that Pen needed to propel her to take a stand, to allow her what she needed to say ENOUGH is ENOUGH and that she would not let this person take everything she loved away from her. She would not let Cressida deal the final blow in her life, her marriage, her family, her purpose. And it would not control her. And thus, she made her final move.

Colin Bridgerton:

Colin had a huge turning point with Cressida, and I did not see it coming. I will be honest when the scene came, I was like why the fuck are they wasting this scene between these two and he’s not having this conversation with this wife. But the more I sat on it the more it made sense because Colin couldn’t have this conversation with Pen. Because he was so hurt and so angry with Pen, he didn’t want to lash out and say mean things to her, but with Cressida, he didn’t care what he said to her. It was easier to say thing to someone he had no feelings for.

And thus, the blackmail conversation happened. Or Cressida/Colin’s Therapy hour was born. Because that plot point was exactly what happened. It was a way for us to hear Colin’s inner thoughts. In a book, it’s easy to know what the main character is feeling, because you read it. But in the show, you don’t get that intimate knowledge. Here we got to know what Colin was feeling.

He shared with Cressida that he left town wanting to hear from Pen, and when he didn’t, he withdrew from himself. He started to take away feeling, to hold back things he needed from others. He become Pod Colin! And then he talked to her about how Pen was treated by the Ton and by extension (CRESSIDA) He talked about loneliness and how that makes a person feel and for fucks sake he bared his soul.

And then he talked about how people pay this damned woman Whistledown to read what she has to say and boy if Cressida didn’t take 3 seconds to call him out for his whining and jealousy of his wife. Because that is what it was, and he recoiled as if she bit him. And thus, jealous Colin reared his ugly head. Plot point made.

And then Cressida, just like she had shown his sister, showed Colin, that outside the Bridgerton drawing room, life sucks. Cressida was able to hit him where things hurt, because she doesn’t care about Colin, she’s not Pen looking at him like he hung the moon, to Cressida, he’s just another spoiled Bridgerton. So, he gets to learn that you don’t always have a loving family to support you and welcome you back from mistakes and responsibility you don’t want with open arms. Sometimes your life just sucks, and you get forced to marry an old ugly man who wants 4 kids from you.

And then she charged him double for all her trouble and sent him home with his tail between his legs. Plot point made.

Colin now ready to accept that he failed, that he should have listened to his wife, and it was time to do things differently, returned to his wife perhaps ready to listen a bit more.

And thus, we see, that Cress was not a main character, she was there to propel our leads forward, to get them where they needed to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, the villain has to be the villain.

I’m not saying she will always be that, they did a good job making you feel sympathy for her this season, but this just wasn’t her season for redemption yet. Maybe in the future, but it wasn’t for Season 3.

[quinacridonered]

Rings of Power Recap - Season 2, Episode 3

Berek: Buddy! My human! Where are you?

Orcs: Are you sure you are not a dog?

Berek: Let me offer you my hoof in your gut as evidence.

Oversized Spider: I am not a dog either.

Isildur: If these are local spiders, I don’t want to know local dogs.

Waldreg: No, you really don’t.

Giant Evil Chihuahua: *burp*

--

Miriel: Emotional Support Elendil? Where are you?

Earien: I am really against her as a potential stepmother.

Numenorian Citizen: *slaps the queen*

Miriel: Hug it out?

Earien: Our family fights will never be the same.

--

Sketchy Lord: Shall we depose the queen?

Pharazon: Yes, let’s. 

Numenorian Citizens: Hey, they are discussing treason in the middle of a pub.

Pharazon: All the better to foment a civil war, my dear.

Earien: If I show you this Palantir I stole, will I get some nice new earrings?

Kevin: With or without magical properties? 

--

Orc Baby: *gurgles*

Entire Worldviews: *collapse*

--

Prince Durin: Magic rings? Are you serious? Go back to the runway from whence you came.

Sauron: *refrains from dwarvicide*

Celebrimbor: Good job.

Sauron: *refrains from elvicide* 

Celebrimbor: I think I am going to spend the afternoon lying to my king about what we are doing.

Sauron: I love that you think this was your own idea.

--

Former Southland Citizen: Aaaaaah!

Isildur: Do you always start a conversation with stabbing?

Former Southland Citizen: Pretty much, yeah.

Isildur: You guys had problems before the orcs showed up.

--

Prince Durin: Hug it out?

King Durin: Are you on drugs?

Prince Durin: I’ll be brief. Weird fucker in Eregion. Magic rings. We can get some.

King Durin: Let’s assume that I love you without me saying it.

Prince Durin: Aww, Dad. Consider it assumed.

--

Isildur: Can I tell you about my childhood trauma?

Former Southland Citizen: I am a woman who grew up in Stabby Land and just escaped from an orc-run Gulag where being branded was just the orientation session. You will not win this trauma competition.

Theo: I too have trauma.

Unknown Attacker: Would you like some more?

--

Miriel: Time to coronate. Or septre-ate. Whichever.

Divinely Ordained Eagle: MI-RI-EL!

Sketchy Lord: PHA-RA-ZON!

Eagle: MI-RI-EL!

Crowd: PHA-RA-ZON!

Eagle: What the hell. I am speaking perfectly clear Eaglish.

Crowd: PHA-RA-ZON!

Eagle: Fuck this. Eagle out.

--

Kind Durin: How ‘bout them rings?

Celebrimbor: *grabs mithril*

Sauron: Ahem.

Celebrimbor: Is this the beginning of our struggle for control?

Sauron: I love that you think you had any.

----------

More recaps:

Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2, Episode 2

[girllookingoutwindow]

Eloise is definitely immature and Pen was right when she said to Eloise that at least she did something. Eloise always said she wanted to do things a lady wasn't allowed to do at that time but yeah, she was either too chicken to actually pursue something or she had no idea what she wanted to do in the first place. Punishing Pen for doing what she's good at and making bank is pure jealousy. At least Colin admitted to it and afterwards did what he wanted to do by publishing his memoirs overcoming his insecurities. Eloise also wouldn't listen to Pen as to why she wrote about her "inappropriate friendship" with Theo to protect her from ruin. The same for Colin and Marina.

I agree. Eloise has a privilege that Pen didn't have and she couldn't see it. Eloise never heard Pen, and honestly nobody else. She was jealous. Colin was jealous too. But Colin knew more about love than Eloise. He knew he wanted Pen in his life no matter what. El, figured out latter. She doesn't know herself enough. She lied to herself. Eloise doesn't know too much of the world. She needs to grow up like a character. I think she's a very interesting one, because of it. Because I want to see her growth.

[brynnne]

I dont know what to say other than I read @pendale 's titanic au drabble like an hour ago (go read that if you havent) and then furiously wrote this.

"James Cameron is full of shit," Eloise says as the screen fades to black and the credits begin to roll. "I still say they both could have fit."

"Not this again," Theo laughs, half out of desperation, and half actual humor. He pinches the bridge of nose. "For the last time, El, it's about the bouyancy, not how much space they had to occupy."

Eloise smirks, popping a piece of popcorn in her month. To the victor goes the spoils, she thinks. It's become much, much too easy, lulling Theo into an argument like this. Most of their movie nights end up following a similar route.

"All they had to do was tie Rose's lifejacket-"

"I swear to God, if you bring up the Mythbusters thing again-"

She throws an M&M at her boyfriend's face, aiming for his forehead. He catches it in his mouth instead. She would be more annoyed about it, but it was an pretty impressive catch, so she gets her revenge by throwing herself at him and toppling them both down onto the couch cushions.

She settles on top of him, and Theo's arms wrap snugly around her waist as he peers up at her with a gaze so open that even after years of receiving it, it still sparks crackling electricity to erupt throughout her body.

(The same sensation she had had the first year of university watching him arrive in the middle of a lecture with the most endearing blush on his face before taking a seat next to her.)

"I don't think Jack and Rose were in the right frame of mind to have come up with such an elaborate plan," Theo tells her, "you know, with all the freezing to death and what not."

"Sucks to be them," Eloise says plainly. "I  would have thought of it."

"Of course you would have."

She sinks more fully onto him, pressing them further into the cushions. She'd called it payback for his teasing, but it's hardly a punishment. "I'm just saying, if I had a gorgeous peasant in front of me I wouldn't simply sit back and do nothing while they turn into a corpse."

"I don't know if I should be flattered you called me gorgeous, or offended you called me a peasant."

"Who said I was talking about you?" She raises a challenging eyebrow.

Theo laughs. "Well, you're too old for Leo Dicaprio, so I know you're not talking about him."

Eloise smooths her hands down his solid chest, appreciating the way his features get caught in the glow of the television. Something anchors itself in her ribcage, heart tied to this spot, this moment, this man. She holds no desire untether it. "I would have gotten us out alive," she says softly-- not a boast, but a declaration. "I would have saved you."

"I know you would have," Theo pulls her closer. "There's not a bone in my body that would ever cast doubt on you."

She shows her gratitude for such unwavering confidence by capturing his lips in a kiss-- slow and sweet, and without any emerging danger or impending doom to hurry them along. Theo’s fingers tease the hem of shirt, and her own take to their favored position of curling in his hair, and her opinion is only cemented further.

James Cameron and the freezing waters of the Atlantic Ocean be dammed. There's nothing in the world that could keep her from having this.

[realmythsmoved]

I've been thinking lately and I think if they do end up putting Eloise with Philip (in the Bridgerton show), I'll definitely be ignoring it. Not simply because he is A Man, and Eloise is more into women and nonbinary people, but also because:

To end up with him, Eloise's entire personality and worldview has to change. The only thing is, I like her personality and worldview the way it is. She is right and she should say it lol.

Eloise is frightened, no petrified of giving birth. Especially for the time period she's in, that's a fair thing to fear, I think. Heck, I never want to give birth and I live in modern times. And I never have either. I think Eloise is the same.

Furthermore, I don't think Eloise cares for children too much. She doesn't hate them, and if a partner wanted children, she would always be kind to them etc. But I don't see her as a very maternal woman. And that's okay.

Eloise also wants to be with someone who is her intellectual equal. Who challenges her, surprises her, makes her think about the world in a different way. Now, I could be wrong, but I don't see Philip doing any of that.

Eloise (as her face tag 'my rebellion is not a costume' states) is not going through a phase. She has genuine criticisms and notices the problems of the society in which she lives. To end up with a Man, not only a Man but one who doesn't add anything to her life except give her more work, would contradict that, IMO anyway. Not saying that women dating men can't be feminists. Of course not, that's silly. But what I am saying is that Eloise would only be attracted to a man who IS her true equal. Who isn't just more of the same. Who would respect her as she is. And I just don't see Philip doing any of that. Maybe the show will surprise me, but idk. In addition, as I said above, El doesn't ever want to give birth (and in the books she does), isn't largely fond of children (and Philip already has them). For their relationship to work, El would have to sacrifice a lot, while Philip wouldn't. And that is exactly the kind of thing that Eloise has an issue with. If the relationship was more equal, she wouldn't mind. But it wouldn't be. And personally, I don't want that for her.

(Trigger warning: rape) I haven't read the books yet, but I've heard that Philip is kinda rapey towards Marina in the books, and I don't want that for Eloise. Not saying he would ever harm her, idk. But she would never want to be with a man who would harm any woman, no matter her feelings towards them.

TLDR version: Show!Eloise would have to change and sacrifice a lot for her book relationship to still work. And personally, I don't think I would find that a compelling character arc. And I think Eloise deserves one. She also deserves to be with someone who truly challenges her, surprises her, improves her life. Not saying relationships don't require sacrifices, they do, but they do on both sides. Not just one. Eloise and Philip, from what I've heard, is NOT that. It's Eloise sacrificing and Philip gets off easy. It's not fair imo. And it's not the ending I want for such a strong woman. She deserves better.

My Eloise, therefore, will likely not be following canon if that is indeed her endgame in the show. That doesn't mean I won't RP Philip and Eloise, I'm sure RPers can have an interesting take on the character. But I'm much more interested in developing ships with women and nonbinary characters in the Bridgerton universe, for Eloise. Or maybe RPing with a Theo. (I liked him, sue me. At least he's her intellectual equal and challenges her.)

[missgavi]

Heyy love!! I literally just stalked your entire page and I was wondering if you could do an imagine with gavi where the reader meets and old boy best friend and gavi gets jealous and protective? Thank you!!

this is slightly recycled from my f1 blog but oh well. it works so deal with it 😊

When your childhood best friend Theo complained about having some business in Barcelona but unable to find any available rooms due to the El clasico being so close you offered yours and Pablo’s spare bedroom.

He would just be sleeping for a night after all.

When you told Gavi that you offered the room to one of your childhood friends , he was very happy to see you so excited about their visit.

What he didn’t expect however was the best friend to be a boy . A pretty boy for that matter.

Seeing Theo pick you up and spin you around , missing you after so many years , he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Pablo knew you were head over heels for him and that you would always be his . Still , he felt a small need to ‘mark his territory’

He may have shaken Theo’s hand a tad to hard , immediately wrapping his big arms around your waist right after.

Driving the three of you home , you showed Theo to his room. In about 30 minutes he was already out the door , duty calling.

You spent the rest of the day in the house with Pablo , deciding to have one of your rare lazy days together.

But once Theo was back in the house , it’s like Gavi’s dick took over his brain.

Always being super close to you , I’m talking dick to ass close , having a hand on you at all times , kissing you for a second too long ‘you were HIS girlfriend in HIS goddamn house’ he thought .

After eating together some takeout Theo brought on his way back from the meeting , he retreated to his bedroom , calling it a night.

You and Gavi did the same , closing the door behind the two of you.

However , as soon as you were in the bathroom wanting to take a shower, Pablo was all over you.

You softly laughed at him “What has gotten into you ?”

Gavi doesn’t answer , just hauls your naked body into his arms , carring you back to the bed.

“Nothing amor , just want to show you how much I love you”

Oh and he shows you alright.

He makes you cum twice on his mouth and fingers , once while you’re riding him and then good old missionary.

All while making you constantly moan his name.

“That’s right baby , scream my name”

“God I love your pretty moans”

“My name sounds so good on your lips love”

By the time you finally make it into the shower , it’s around 3:00 am and Gavi is the one that washes your body , making you cum with his fingers once more for good measure.

By the morning , when you we're saying your goodbyes to Theo , you can see his cheeks turning a dusty rose color when he shakes hands with Pablo.

You also don’t miss his proud smirk.

After closing the door behind Theo , the boy insisting on taking a cab, you turn to Gavi .

“Was last night because of Theodore ?” You ask , a teasing smile on your lips.

The boy didn’t even try to hide it “Maybe” Kissing over the marks he left last night he muttered “need to make sure he knows you are mine”

[blkmxrvel]

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (29) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

[previous] | [masterlist]

Theo was staying with Alex and Maggie for the night.

She was glad they weren’t going to a hotel. Y/Nhadn’t asked for them not to, and truthfully she’d thought they’d go to New York. But Miss Ka – Mistress had smiled and kissed her cheek and said, quietly, “We’ll stay home.”

Mistress.

As the car wound its way through the darkened streets towards the house, Y/N found herself smiling, her forehead pressed to the cool glass. She had a Mistress. She had a Mistress, and that Mistress was Kara. The collar was heavy around her neck, and Y/N kept reaching her hand up to play with the lock, the lock that bound her. She hadn’t had anything around her neck since… but this time was different. This time, the weight didn’t feel deadening, this time she didn’t feel as if there was an albatross dragging her down until drowning was inevitable.  It was strange, Y/N thought, but this time, the collar felt… freeing. Freeing because it hadn’t been one person locking the collar, but herself and Mistress, together, sealing the bond and promising that there would never be a time when one of them wouldn’t be cared for.

Already, things were different.

Mistress came around to Y/N’s side of the car and opened the door for her; Y/N took her hand and allowed herself to be led up the stairs and into the house.

It was the same as it had been that morning; there was a Broad magazine tossed on the couch and one of Theo’s bones still lay on the floor. The lights were off, except for the kitchen, and a lamp in Mistress’s bedroom. There was an eerie quiet and Y/N shivered in spite of herself and was immediately wrapped up in a hug.

“Are you all right?”

“Nervous, Mistress,” she answered honestly, and Mistress kissed her.

“I know, little one. It’s all right, I’m here.”

Mistress’s hand was strong and steady on Y/N’s cheek, and Y/N smiled. “I know, Mistress, thank you.”

“I love you.” Mistress kissed her again then stood back, and Y/N felt every muscle in her body become alight at the expression on her face.

“I want you to kneel here,” Mistress said quietly, “And wait for me while I make the necessary preparations. I won’t be long, and I’ll be just right down the hall.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Y/N retrieved a pillow and knelt immediately.

She took deep breaths to calm herself, concentrating on the sounds of Mistress moving in the other room, of shuffling, of what sounded like ice clinking in glasses. What would happen? Y/N wondered. Would it be soft and gentle, or… She pushed the thought out of her mind. She trusted Mistress.

She trusted her.

“Come here.” Mistress came back into the room and sat onto the couch, pulling Y/N up alongside her with a smile.  They were still in their dresses, but Y/N figured Mistress didn’t care if they got wrinkled as she wrapped her arms around Y/N’s waist and held the girl against her chest.

Mistress brushed a feather-light kiss to Y/N’s ear, speaking gently. “Just relax, sweetheart.” Y/N nodded and closed her eyes, focusing on Mistress’s strong arms around her, in the tender way she addressed her.

���I know you’re nervous. I’m nervous too.” Y/N lifted Mistress’s hands in hers and kissed each of them in turn. “But we’re going to be all right. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N breathed, tilting her head with a sigh as Mistress’s lips found their way to her neck. She shivered, her eyes opening when she felt Mistress draw back.

“We don’t have to, you know,” Mistress said. “If you’re not ready, that’s all right. I can wait until you’re ready, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled and twisted in Mistress’s arms until she was facing her, and kissed her. “I’m ready,” she said quietly. “I know I’m nervous, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want this. Or you. I need for you to claim me tonight, to make me yours.”

It had the potential to go so wrong, Y/N knew. Even as they were driving to the house she had the small fear, the little worry in the back of her mind that Mistress would slam the front door and turn to her with a glare. Y/N knew it was silly, because of course it would never happen, but Y/N knew healing was a process, that she wasn’t going to stop worrying about being disobedient, about not being good enough, about… being Y/N.

And what if she wasn’t good enough? What if she didn’t touch Mistress right, give her enough pleasure? What if Mistress was disappointed? Y/N didn’t care about anything else but wanting Mistress to feel as loved as she made Y/N feel, but she was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to do that in bed.

“You are mine,” Mistress pointed out, but she squeezed Y/N close to her for a moment, before gently pushing her up off the couch. “Come with me.”

She stood up and took Y/N’s hand, leading her slowly to her bedroom. She stopped just inside the doorway, stepping back so that Y/N could get a full look.

It seemed that thousands of candles glittered from every corner, and there were gardenias everywhere. Resting on the bedside table was a bucket with what looked like a bottle of wine, and 2 glasses alongside.  Y/N saw that in the bathroom, several bottles of Berry scented bubble bath waited on the edge of the tub, along with more candles. She smiled, remembering her first bath “with” Mistress, only a year ago. A lifetime, and yet not so far behind them yet. She turned her attention back to the bedroom, or, more specifically, the bed.

It had been stripped except for the pillows and sheets, with the blankets folded and in a neat pile on the chair. Laced through the hook in the center of the headboard were restraints of what looked like wide, soft green silk. A blindfold stood starkly out against the pillow on the left side.

Y/N swallowed hard and looked at Mistress, who had, unbeknownst to her, been watching her reaction carefully.

“Do you trust me?”

“With everything, Mistress.”

Mistress nodded, and moved to the bed to pick up the blindfold. “I know,” she said quietly, “that you want to please me.”

“I do.”

Mistress leaned up to kiss her, and Y/N gasped as suddenly her vision was taken from her, and the blindfold tightened securely behind her head. “And you will,” Mistress said. “But right now, little one, this is for you.”

“A-all right.” She couldn’t help but stutter, couldn’t help the small chills of fear that ran down her arms, only to quickly vanish because Mistress’s hands were closing around her upper arms, holding her gently and close as she kissed her again.

“Do you remember North Carolina Avenue?”

Y/N giggled a little, even as she grew more apprehensive because Mistress was behind her, working the buttons of her dress.

“Green.”

“Good girl,” Mistress praised, and Y/N’s breath hitched as her dress slowly began to pull away and a tongue traced a smooth line at the base of her neck.

“And Atlantic Avenue?”

“Y-yellow.” Her dress was down around her ankles now; Mistress guided her to step out of it and she heard the sound of it being folded up, placed somewhere.

“Such a good girl.” Mistress had made fast work of Y/N’s bra, and she wasn’t able to stop the small moan that escaped her when warm palms cupped her breasts. She snapped her mouth shut, flushing. Maybe Mistress wanted her to be—

“No,” Mistress said then, her fingertips lightly teasing Y/N’s nipples. “I want to hear, little one.  I need to hear so that I know what to do, and what not, understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Y/N said with a sigh, feeling something she hadn’t ever before, in all her 22 years of life – she felt her body arch into the touch of another.

“Indiana Avenue, Y/N.”

“Red,” she replied dutifully, lifting each foot in turn as Mistress helped her out of her underwear, and she was standing naked except for the blindfold.

“That’s my girl.” She was enfolded into Mistress’s arms, strongly, lovingly; she accepted the kisses eagerly and moaned again when she felt Mistress’s tongue caress her mouth.

She was nervous, self-conscious stood there completely exposed, but Mistress had seen her naked before this, and even if she would want to cover herself she couldn’t, not being held in Mistress’s arms.

“I know we have a safe word but for tonight, we’re going to be using green, yellow, and red, is that clear? I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings about what you want and need.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Y/N replied with relief. She wouldn’t be backing out, she knew, but just to have the option…

Mistress guided Y/N onto the bed, making sure she was comfortable on the pillow; Y/N tensed when Mistress raised her left wrist, intent on tying it. She could feel that Mistress was sat on the edge of the bed next to her, and she turned Y/N’s wrist over in her hand and gently kissed her pulse.

“You won’t be tied up all night,” she reassured, “Because I do intend on having your hands on me, and we will need to regain our energy at some point.” She said that last with a note of amusement in her voice, and Y/N couldn’t help but grin.

“For now though, this is how I want you. Do you trust me?” she repeated.

“With everything,” was the firm answer.

The bonds were tight but not too; she could feel Mistress tugging at the silk and testing it, making sure that it wasn’t cutting off any circulation, that there was enough room between the bond and Y/N’s skin. First the left wrist, then the right, and she was tied, lying helpless and blindfolded on the bed, once again at someone’s mercy.

And then Mistress vanished.

Y/N felt the rise of the bed that told her Mistress had stood up, felt the coldness that told her the heat had gone from her side; she strained her ears but didn’t hear the sound of a door closing or footsteps. All she could hear was a faint rustling, and she began to panic.

She could handle any pain in the world. Any blow, any cut, any harsh word. Anything.

Except being alone.

“Mistress?!”

“I wouldn’t leave you like this, angel.” Y/N drew in a shaky breath. The answer was so soft, so tender that she felt ashamed. Of course Mistress hadn’t left. She wouldn’t.

And then she gasped, because the bed dipped, and suddenly Mistress’s naked body was covering hers, skin to skin.

“I’m right here, little one.”

“O-oh… oh god.” All she could feel was heat, the warmth radiating from Mistress’s body against hers and suddenly the bonds holding her wrists to the headboard, the blindfold blocking her sight… it was maddening. She wanted to see, see what Mistress looked like bare and open for her; she wanted to touch every inch of Mistress with every inch of her, and Y/N curled and uncurled her fists until the headboard rattled a little, and Mistress chuckled.

“Not yet, Y/N,” she said, and the tone in her voice was so triumphant that Y/N realized she was doomed to be at this woman’s mercy for the rest of her life… and she craved it.

Mistress kissed her then, slowly, unhurriedly, taking in her fill of Y/N’s lips and mouth and tongue, as much as she wanted, and Y/N was helpless to do anything but enjoy it, to listen to the slick wet sounds of them moving together, to feel the way Mistress searched her, gauging her reactions and her enjoyment.

“You are so beautiful,” Mistress whispered, kissing the proud line of Y/N’s neck, sliding her tongue over where neck met shoulder, lightly sucking at her pulse point, and Y/N felt beautiful. She felt dizzy, drugged, scared and exhilarated, exotic and beautiful. Mistress was all kisses and touches and licks, careful exploration as if Y/N was a scientific experiment in love and sex. She moved everywhere; soon there wasn’t an inch of Y/N’s neck and face and shoulders that hadn’t been kissed, even her nose had been kissed gently, sweetly, and Y/N smiled.

 Each touch was careful, deliberate; sometimes gentle, sometimes a little less so, but never harsh. Every single touch of Mistress’s hands on her was another lesson that everything had changed. And it was as if her body had become hyperaware, tuned only to Mistress’s fingers, her palms, her mouth and her skin. Robbed of her sight, Y/N was forced to rely on her other senses, and it was as if they were magnified tenfold.

She let out a groan as suddenly, Mistress’s mouth closed around her right nipple and she flushed, biting her lip, but Mistress came up and kissed her again, pausing long enough to whisper, “I want to hear you.”

And it was then she understood, when Mistress’s hand was on her left breast and her mouth on the right, it was then she realized that it was okay for her to like this. That she did like this, and when she gasped at a bite to her nipple, the merest, faintest nibble because Mistress was afraid to hurt her and actually paused to question “Green, yellow, red?” Y/N shook her head and said, “Green. Green, green, green.”

Don’t you dare stop, she was thinking, but knew that giving voice to that was probably a bad idea.

Soon she was wet, and she was writhing, because Mistress was everywhere on her body, on her neck, on her breasts, on the smooth dip of her stomach, everywhere but the place that Y/N soon realized she really, really wanted her. She had no idea of how much time had passed, but it was too much and not enough, and then she felt the lightest of touches against her right hip, a touch so unlike the others. So gentle and non-sexual that it was almost… reverent. And Y/N knew her Mistress had found it.

The mark.

She almost cried when Mistress kissed the small O, the little circle that had been there for as long as Y/N could remember. It was the mark that had made her who she was, the mark that had sealed her fate – or so she had thought. That mark had meant destiny, servitude, slavery, and now it meant…

“Mine,” Mistress said, kissing it again, and then laving it with her tongue. She growled low in her throat and Y/N jumped a little when Mistress bit her hip – marked her. But it wasn’t harsh, and it didn’t hurt, and she found herself answering.

“Yours, Mistress.”

The mark meant destiny. Servitude. And now, the word – mine – the mark… it also meant care. Comfort. Being controlled and taught, but not possessed or owned. She was Mistress’s, and Y/N knew that she would have been whether she had a mark on her hip or not.

She whined a little in frustration when Mistress pulled away, only to roll her eyes behind the blindfold when she heard her chuckle. But then Mistress sat next to her and lifted her head, holding something cool to Y/N’s lips. A glass, full of not wine, but sparkling juice. She drank greedily, swirling the tartness around her tongue before swallowing, having not realized how dry her mouth had become. Mistress took the glass away and simply sat with Y/N for a moment, one warm hand on her stomach.

“Are you all right?” she asked, and Y/N understood that the pause had been for Mistress to check in with her, to understand that there was such a thing as too much, too fast, too soon, and that Y/N might need a break.

The gratitude and love washed over Y/N like warm water from a bath, and she nodded, tears wetting the back of the blindfold.

“I’m all right, Mistress, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mistress pecked her lightly on the lips, and Y/N gasped as the young woman slid fully on top of her again.

“I want to touch you so badly,” she said with a pout, and Mistress laughed.

“All in good time, little one, I promise.”

Then she was back to kissing down Y/N’s stomach, down her thighs and back up again, and Y/N’s head tilted back as she felt Mistress gently lift and spread her legs.

“So beautiful,” Mistress whispered again. “I love you so much.”

Y/N arched her back with a moan as Mistress kissed her center, her tongue sliding easily over slick, wet folds.

She lost all power of speech and concentration then, only able to focus on Mistress’s mouth and the things it was doing to her, things that she hadn’t experienced before in all her 22 years. Her legs shook and the headboard rattled as she struggled, wanting to get away so she could hold Mistress’s head there, but she understood why she had been bound.

She had wanted to please Mistress, but Mistress knew, Mistress could see, as she always had, that Y/N Zor-El-Y/L/N wanted, needed, to feel pleasure. It coursed through her like waves, little ripples of shivers and whimpers, moans and whispers of “Mistress, Mistress,” as the woman she loved slipped inside Y/N, one thumb rubbing smooth circles over her most sensitive skin.

But as quickly as it had started, it stopped, just as Y/N was beginning to see sparks behind the eyelids that were squeezed shut, and she tensed. Had she done something wrong?

But Mistress’s hand was still on her, and Y/N couldn’t help but thrust her hips up to meet each stroke. A firm second hand on her hips stilled her.

“I want you to ask me.”

“Ask you, Mistress?” Y/N said, her voice coming out hoarse.

Then Mistress was at her ear, low and sultry.

“You will ask me for permission when you want to come, little one, is that clear?”

Oh this, this was new, Y/N thought with surprise. They hadn’t really discussed any sexual rules beyond what they absolutely would not do, and so she knew she could say no to this and it would be okay.

“Yes, Mistress.”

The heat that rushed to her core when Mistress had spoken into her ear that way had Y/N resolving that she would beg to come if she had to.

Mistress chuckled again and Y/N decided that she could be perfectly evil if she wanted to, and really it was just fine, because Mistress’s tongue was deep inside her again and she was straining against the silk holding her to the headboard.

It wasn’t long before Y/N found herself whispering, as her hips moved in tandem with the motions of her Mistress.

“Mistress… Mistress please…”

But Mistress didn’t stop, didn’t pause; her thumb moved in rapid circles over Y/N and her tongue curled into her until it hit—

“Oh god…”

She had never felt this. Never felt the little waves coursing over her, the chills rising up on her skin, never felt her thighs slick and wet. Never heard the breathless little moans and licks from someone between her legs, one hand holding her down and the other working mercilessly over the little bundle of nerves at her center. She felt nervous and beautiful and scared and like the most powerful woman in the world. This was the last hold, the last thing that was hers and to give it over meant that someone once again had all of her and could she—

“Mistress, please, I want to—please may I come, please let me come…”

“Yes.”

Y/N screamed as her hips jerked; she felt Mistress suck her clit gently into her mouth and she screamed again, trying to find purchase on the headboard with her hands. Finding none she clenched them into fists, riding out her orgasm until she collapsed, spent, onto the pillows. In seconds she felt Mistress next to her, curled into her side with her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

They were quiet for the longest time, Mistress’s hand soft and soothing as it rubbed circles on Y/N’s skin. Finally Y/N took a deep breath and turned her head to kiss Mistress’s cheek.

“I love you so much. Thank you, Mistress.”

“And you’re all right?”

Y/N kissed her again. “More than all right.” She was perfect. “But I’d be even better if I could see you. Touch you.”

“Ask me.”

“Please may I see you, Mistress? Please may I make love to you?”

Mistress’s answer was to untie Y/N’s hands, rubbing them for a moment to make sure the circulation was fine. At last she reached up and pulled off the blindfold, and Y/N stared in awe.

Kara Zor-El… was beautiful. She may have been small but that meant nothing with legs that seemed as if they could go on for miles. It was cute, the way she blushed a little under Y/N’s gaze, and it was as if Y/N’s eyes were hungry for every inch of her. Her face, her breasts, the taut line of her stomach and the… oh.

Y/N reached out with tentative fingers, barely touching the faint X that rested just in the middle of Mistress’s left ribs. It was her mark, her destiny.

Who would she have been without the mark? Y/N wondered. She didn’t know of anyone who didn’t have a mark, though she had heard of some people who ignored them and chose to figure out their own path regardless of who they had been born to be. Would Mistress have still been… a mistress? Would she have gone to New York at the age of 18, would she have been a famous Broadway singer?

If she didn’t have the mark, would she still love Y/N?

Y/N turned with uncertain eyes and saw love shining back at her, and she knew. Mistress would love her no matter what.

“I-I want to…” she fumbled with her words and trailed off. “But I don’t know how, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mistress shook her head and lay down on the bed, pulling Y/N on top of her and reaching her hand up to release the braids from her girl’s hair.

“Just think,” she said softly. “I’ve already taught you what you need to know, little one, just now. I don’t need anything but you.”

Y/N nodded, arching down to press her lips to Mistress’s, her hands moving slowly, carefully.

It came to her then, how Mistress had blindfolded her and denied Y/N the chance at first, to see her naked. She was glad for it, as she was now able to fully take her in, to see her completely, and Y/N realized that for the rest of her life she would never tire of seeing her Mistress. And she’d been tied, unable to touch, and now her fingers were taking their fill, gently but urgently.

When the sound first touched her ears, Y/N’s eyes widened. A moan, low and needy. Was this why Mistress had said she’d wanted to hear Y/N? She skimmed her fingers over a dusky nipple and heard that sound again, and Y/N grinned. Oh yes. This was something she would always want to hear.

The air was filled with the scent of gardenia and Mistress, tart and musk and sweet mingled together in a perfume that was intoxicating and Y/N hoped to forever be drunk on it. She could taste the salt of Mistress’s skin on her tongue as she kissed her, licked her, and took a moment to worship at the X that marked Mistress hers.  She was awkward and fumbling but Mistress placed a finger against her lips when Y/N apologized, and soon all apologies and fears vanished as Y/N found her stroke, her rhythm.

And as Mistress raised into her touch, her back coming off the bed and her mouth wide and gasping as she pulsed around Y/N’s fingers, Y/N Zor-El-Y/L/N felt the tears rush to her eyes.

Mistress collapsed into her arms, curled into her, whispered “Good girl; my sweet, good girl.”

And finally, Y/N understood.

It didn’t matter if she made mistakes. It didn’t matter if she was naughty, or snapped, or didn’t say the right words or if she burned dinner. It didn’t matter what career she decided to have or not have, whether she sang too loudly or off-key (well, not too off-key) or if she laughed too much at silly cartoons.

It didn’t matter if she fumbled at sex or decided one night that she was too tired for sex. It didn’t matter if she had nightmares or woke up talking about silly dreams, or if she wanted to spend all afternoon curled up into Mistress as she read a book. It didn’t matter if she was needy for reassurance or if some days she felt that she just wanted to be left alone.

It didn’t matter because Y/N Zor-El-Y/L/N wasn’t perfect.

She wasn’t perfect, but finally, finally…

She was good enough.

[next (final chapter)]

[pizzatowerepisodes]

Season 7 episode 5

Clone chaos

Peppino is talking to The Noise about the WAR level (likely at a bar) and how stressful it was. Noise realizes how many clones of Peppino there are, and starts wondering if they've been cloned, considering they were much more popular when they first met pizzahead than peppino was. Cut to Noise and Noisette going through every channel they have access to trying to find a copy of themselves (either to rub it in Pep's face or just for the ego boost) and being very unsuccessful. So Theo does what any insane gremlin would do: hold a Noise Lookalike contest, with quite the prize for the top spot. Pepperman, Peppino, and Mr. Stick would be judging, as to stop them from trying to take the money for themselves. Everything seems to have gone well, and a Noise impersonator champion is crowned. Unfortunately, Peppino knows there's only been one commercial break since the start of the episode, and starts questioning the Noise on if they have any underlying plans. The goblin won't say anything, but his wife ends up spilling the next day, revealing that each contestant had a tracker placed on them so that Noise could find out if PizzaHead was behind any of this. Of course he was, leading Noise to have to fight various noise-likes, including the Foise, El Diego, and the Silence. Noise wins, and is satisfied with the knowledge that they have clones too. The episode ends with The Doise stuck in traffic trying to make it to the competition, not knowing it ended several days ago

.

[is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent]

does she have adhd?

submit your own characters here to be featured!

reason: She does object to the way society works for feminist reasons, but it’s made clear through the duration of the show that the it upsets her in particular because she struggles to “fit in” with society’s rules and expectations, even when she tries to. Her family considers her to be (affectionately) different and odd and say (paraphrasing) there’s no way she’s ever going to conform to society’s expectations. She often talks for prolonged periods of time but will also stop when interrupted. You can see her, like, light up when asked to talk about her thoughts/what she’s interested in (there’s That One Scene from S3 Pt 1 with Cressida which is just sooo infodumping to me). She struggles with activities that require her to sit still or be quiet for a long time (like presenting herself to the Queen & parties in general) and seems generally very restless (she also runs away from balls a lot, something she did even before she was hanging out with Theo). She is thought of as “loud.” She can be impulsive and say/do things without fully thinking them through. She struggles during conversations and forgets to ask/press people for details about what they’re thinking, but not because she doesn’t care: When people explicitly tell her how they’re feeling personally she does demonstrate compassion. Especially in her conversations with her best friend Penelope in season 1 and 2, Pen doesn’t feel listened to because she will imply things during conversation that El doesn’t pick up on, which is what I think causes a lot of problems in their relationship. (mandatory disclaimer not blaming Pen for this either, I just think they both struggled to communicate because they were doing it differently) I also think that while it IS tied to her beliefs in feminism too, her hyperfocused interest in Whistledown feels so much like a hyperfixation to me. She’s also hated by large parts of the fandom for reasons that essentially boil down to “being too loud/annoying.” And idk, what is more Girl With ADHD than that? Other traits of hers that aren’t necessarily symptoms of ADHD but I relate to them and feel they’re connected to my ADHD: very competitive, very unintentionally expressive (on her face and body), very curious/questioning everything, reading a lot, feeling like people treat her more like a “quirky” form of entertainment than taking her thoughts/feelings seriously. Hopefully this was coherent but In conclusion: I have ADHD and she is just like me fr, therefore she also has ADHD.

[risisthis]

The Upside Down is what once used to be “Hellscape”

It isn’t a new concept that the Upside Down could be sort of a doorway between two dimensions: our dimension and Dimension X. We know that Hawkins replicated to the Upside Down on November 6th when El opened the gate.

But, where did Hawkins replicate exactly?

A while ago, I was playing with circles; trying to draw what this dimensional relation between the worlds could look like (it looked stupid and made no sense). I was very adamant to make something that could maybe feel right. Well, nothing did… until I looked at one of the samples – very frustrated – and realized I was looking at things too figuratively. All it took was a small giving up and one last look at those stupid circles, just as they are and BOOM CLICK (maybe).

The drawing looked very familiar.

They already showed us “The Upside Down” in a 1979 flashback, except it was called "Hellscape".

Let me tell you why I believe this could be true.

I went back to look through Michael Maher’s (concept illustrator for st) storyboards and concept art. It’s very interesting to me that he distinguished the realm Henry was falling through as “Hellscape” instead of calling it “Dimension X” as his other concept arts.

I looked at some of his storyboards, and noticed a very small detail there that I managed to miss before.

Remember, this was the final storyboard for 4x07.

Now what do we have here? To me, it looks like Henry was just about to fall through a gate, but instead, they slowed time and zoomed into him to make a transition back to 1986 Vecna. One of the reasons for that may be that they didn’t want to reveal this just yet.

That gate was an opening to the Dimension X.

Yes, sounds a bit far-fetched, but bear with me.

I mean, we never saw Henry fall down, nor does Hellscape resemble the Dimension X shown to us in episode 9. It would make a cool s5 revelation that wouldn’t be hard to pull off.

Let’s go back a bit.

El sent Henry straight through the gate in 1979. She didn’t make a connection with the Dimension X, just a physical crack in our dimension. This sends Henry flying through an inter-dimensional space, as described by Maher once again.

And by this concept design that was ditched because of, I believe, either filming complications or time/budget consumption, the gate opened from one of those cloud planes.

The future Upside Down is that inter-dimensional space.

I think that’s why the gates always opened weirdly; there are no rules for up and down because this place has no sense of direction.

Here is my take on how the Upside Down formed. I’ll talk about how the Philadelphia experiment plays into all of this after, because there is still one little catch here.

I didn’t add 1984 and 1985 to save space, but you get the gist.

When Henry landed in the Dimension X, he went through one more gate, and that gate never closed. My theory here is that the Mind Flayer and Henry very soon after started spreading into and shaping the Hellscape (no hawkins yet, just vines and stuff).

So, this started happening in 1979 and would be a pretty good explanation for, I believe the Duffer brothers’ comment, that there is somewhere “where the creatures are coming from”. Once he settled in the Hellscape and started “building” this new realm, he just waited for the moment for another gate to open and for that barrier between Hawkins to officially weaken.

When El made a psychic connection with Demogorgon, the creature was already out of the Dimension X.

All of this would mean that there is already a gate somewhere in the Upside Down that leads to the Dimension X.

I think there is one more very important detail here – electricity.

We all know that electricity plays a big part in Stranger Things; hell, Joyce’s lights are practically what made this show this famous in the first place.

I want to talk about the role electricity has in connecting these dimensions and what those light particles in the Upside Down could be.

I made a theory back in July where I talked about the possible importance of The Storm and how it could be much more than just for the "aesthetic." You can check out the theory here. Keep in mind this was written before we found out Henry is controlled by the Mind Flayer and not the other way around, but everything else still stands.

As I said, the electricity connects and flows. I see it almost as a current between dimensions. Now, if my theory is correct and the Upside Down is this inter-dimensional space in between, when someone plays with lights in the Upside Down that disrupts this current, and causes things to light up in Hawkins. Those light particles we saw are, I believe, just photons.

Eddie said, “It tickles”, so that would make sense.

What does all of this have to do with the Philadelphia Experiment? (The First Shadow spoilers)

Brenner’s dad took part in the experiment, trying to make a ship invisible, but what happened instead was that they transported the ship directly into the Dimension X. This incident wasn’t a result of someone’s supernatural powers, but rather just scientific testing. Wouldn’t it be interesting if, by channeling enough energy, you could actually connect to those currents and, with that, create a direct pathway from one dimension to the other?

This could also possibly explain how the Russians got a hang of the demo creatures; they also opened a gate scientifically – the same way Brenner’s father did – creating that same pathway directly into the Dimension X and not the Upside Down.

Again, the duffers implied already that demogorgons, demodogs, demobats… don’t originate from the Upside Down and that there is a reason why the characters don’t run into all of them constantly.

I can't find that specific interview, so if anyone has it, please share with the class. For now, you’ll have to be satisfied with this

Anyways, this is my little theory that had a bit of reaching (understatement), but I think it’s a fun one. I’m very curious about all the Upside Down lore that is in front of us and how they’ll explain stuff.

[totheidiot]

intro post :)))

hm okay so most basic information about meee. the name is arian, my pronouns are strictly he/him. i am a sex-averse asexual (not sex-repulsed. keep that in mind because i do interact with suggestive content like a sex joke or a smut fanfiction sometimes. so be wary of that please !!). also on the arospec, specifically panromantic. i like to write A Lot and you will know from my posts. i am regrettably not a funny person either. hmm i think that's all !!

fandoms !

stranger things - all posts tagged under #the monster show that got really popular - don't exactly post so much about it? you might see this tag only when i might be engaging with my st mutuals or when i post a fanfiction update

the magnus archives - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: this man has too many eyes. - a tag you shall see very often !! have not begun s5 (will touch that probably, next month?) but got hugely spoilered for it.

the magnus protocol - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: the lack of eyes is causing me unease. - i am in the place with most of the fandom ! waiting for the next episode that is.

the goldfinch - all posts tagged under #the gay bird book - you will probably never see it now, still worth checking out my old posts? i don't even remember if they were good or not.

the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy - all posts tagged under #crash into the 42nd answer - newest hyperfixation !! i am re-reading the series again this summer and it's just so great like damn.

tags !

#🍂 arian's shit : all text post that i wrote myself ! every post i didn't reblog, all of that !! even some reblogs are tagged with this if i add a lot of my own thoughts to another post.

#🪐 arian's asks : my replies to asks i get :) anons are tagged with #those who have no name and the hate anons are tagged with #those who deserve no name i only got one hate anon even that was in my old blog but it's best to be prepared ! if it's not an anon ask, i will tag it with the asker's username or if they are mutual, they get a special tag !

#📷 arian's friends <33 : all the interaction with my mutuals and friends <3

#📝 arian writes fanfiction : pretty self explanatory !! all the times i mention my fanfiction !

☁ arian's very complicated and strange dreams : a very miscellaneous tag ! basically talking about my dreams

#🌌 arian contemplates his universe : textposts written by me that are not really connected to a specific fandom. posts might get a bit personal/random/vent-y

fanfiction !

the goldfinch

things we don't talk about . : xandra hears strange, loud and suspicious noises from theo’s bedroom. upon closer inspection, she discovers that boris is staying the night. the next morning, she confronts them about it. 1/1 , tw references to alcohol, implications of underage sex, internalized homophobia. not my best work at all, but you can read this one !!

six of crows

a fool's game : modern era hs au where the crows are hired by their principal van eck to steal the rival school fjerda high's mascot before the games. 6/? abandoned. tws of six of crows really. don't read this one, abandoned and i don't know how to even feel about this.

stranger things

i got your letter (hope you feel better than i do) : will gets sent a series of anonymous love letters in his locker. mike's been awfully quiet about this. 2/2, tw internalized homophobia. i don't really like this one but it's been very well-received so you can give this shot if you !

your apparition passes through me : that's the masterpost, everything you need to know :)) DO read this one, this is still very much ongoing <3

we both matter (don't we?) : mike asks max if she could go to California with him on spring break. that sounds like a bad idea, but she goes for it. el is unhappy in lenora; she is not in love with one of her first friends, but she is painfully in love with the certain red-haired skateboarder girl, who makes her laugh. 1/2 i have no idea if there will be a continuation? this was really good in my opinion, kind of sucks that it didn't get any love :((

upcoming !

stranger things

two byler fanfiction, both coincidentally i'll be co-writing with mutuals :). one of them is a eeaao au, written with @qulizalfos and the other is very longfic, slightly crack fic written with @iamtheoneandonlyever that documents mike and will's life from college, all the way to their fifties.

the magnus archives

আমি তো চক্ষুর বস্ত্র ধরে / দেখতে পাই অতীত, ভবিষ্যত, পৃথিবীর অধ্যাত্ম। : a character study of jonathan sims, before being the Archivist. all written entirely in bangla, bangladeshi!jon obviously, a focus on his language, his grandmother and his culture. only like two people in the fandom probably can read this.

here are my side-blogs :)) : @incaseimakeit-daily and @16-04-16-daily . also, credits for the dividers goes to @//saradika-graphics :))

[equallyloyalandlethal]

And what if I said ...... all 5 (only if thy want)

Otherwise Hellebores

You drive a hard bargain. All five it is!

Atlantis:

“Wait a minute,” Liam’s hands flap around as he stops, blinking at him with a pinched face. “Back UP.” He rubs at his temples, still struggling to process what was just said. “You’re telling me that you remember? Like-like you were there?”

The look Theo can’t help but level at him is less than impressed. Supposedly, the guy is smart, knows things about them, but how can he if he doesn’t know the most basic things about them. "Uh, yeah?” he huffs, rolling his eyes for good measure and smirking at the dumb-founded blinks he gets in return. “Of course I was. Thought you knew things about our culture. Some scholar you are."

Hellebores:

“I know. Okay?” He nodded, emphasizing the fact that he did, smiling a little wider as Liam’s jaw softened under his fingers. “I promise, I know. You’ve said it enough times.”

As the wolf slowly nodded too, mimicking the gesture right down to the speed of it, Theo leaned on and used his hold to pull him in. The kiss was gentle, just a chaste touch of lips against one another, a reminder that he was there, and they were a they no matter what, before a groan rang out from behind them. 

“Okay, yeah, no one needs to see that,” Stiles huffed.

Let Them Fight:

Theo narrowed his eyes, waiting. 

Behind him, someone shifted, cracking a twig. His eyes flicked off the blond in front of him. That was apparently enough of a distraction, because he almost missed catching the hand aimed at his face.

Almost. 

He caught the wolf’s wrist on his own forearm and kicked out, aiming for a knee or shin, though he wasn’t quite used to someone as tall as Isaac, so the arch of his foot ended up on the wolf’s calf. Lacking any real reaction, he switched tactics. Rather than go for breaking the guy’s base by forfeiting his own, Theo solidified his grip on the wrist in his hand. It was a bruising grip, one he used to yank the taller off balance, propelling him forward to slide behind him while both getting out of range before Isaac could do anything and in order to continue pushing the guy away from him.

“Cheeky,” the tall bastard chuckled, spinning back around.

El Dorado:

“I would not get that close, Liam.” 

Theo swallowed back a displeased rumble at the shrill volume behind those words. Good Lord, he hated Mason’s inability to modulate his volume or respect when others were asleep. Liam wasn’t much better, but he only had to snap at the blond once or twice before the idiot stopped waking him up. 

Blackness still sat heavy over top of him, like a blanket, warm and safe and soft, or what he could guess a heavy, comfortable blanket felt like. He shifted, curling even more into a tight ball, something shifting against him, making him pause for a moment. There were actually  blankets draped over him, dragging against his own pelt in odd ways.  

Liam’s low chuckle as he muttered, “Really?” was light, completely antithetical to Mason’s sharp fear which, even as far away as his grumping huff sounded, was filling up their room.  

Blind Theo:

Ghosts don’t exist, not the way that movies always make them out to be. They’re not floating around, discorporated and haunting places. He yanks his hand away, forcing his focus away from the sudden chill creeping along his skin and back onto the clothes, pulling out whatever is closest and turning away. They’re the things that are embedded in a person, memories, scars, those are the ghosts. The screech of tearing metal echoing in his ears alongside the squeals of rubber sliding over ice. 

Chi’s head butting into his thigh, her nose into his hand, pulls him to a stop. Her whine has him rubbing between her ears, attempting to soothe her, while ignoring the fact that she’s telling him something’s not right. He knows, already. The second cold had settled on his skin that this morning wasn’t going to be easy. He hates how quick that day comes back, how angry it all still makes him, how his chest won’t stop itching, and he wants to just rip out the damn organ slamming into his ribs and chuck it as far away as he can. 

A low whine and paw batting at his leg brings Theo down to kneel by her.

“I’m okay,” he promises, his hand sweeping under his dog’s chin to hold it up as he presses his face into the side of hers. “I’m okay, baby girl.”