#buckingham if you squint

[harringroveera]

Their friends just want them to shut up sometimes

[princessstevemunson]

Famous actor Steve Harrington known wife guy. Spends decades of interviews talking about his wife Robin and all their misadventures—a lot of those stories also include their friend and next door neighbor, Corroded Coffin frontman, Eddie Munson. Then with the advent of social media a lot more people are posting about him being seen with Eddie, and are convinced that Steve and Eddie are cheating. This makes Steve have to out himself and explain that he and Robin are in a lavender marriage. (Not that it wasn’t an open secret in Hollywood especially with how close Robin and international pop sensation Chrissy Cunningham are)

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 30th:  Costumes | Children of the Grave - Black Sabbath | Loyal [1.9k, rated T] read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

“No, no, no, no—” Gareth protests, ducking the Donkey costume mask that Eddie tosses his way backstage. “Not again! Dude, that thing smells like having a condom over your face and it’s impossible to drum in. I’m not doing it this year. No way. Someone else is taking one for the team this time.” 

Eddie cackles, trying not to cry with laughter and smudge his green face paint. “Decide amongst yourselves then, but someone is wearing it. We’ve gotta commit.” 

Jeff snorts and shakes his head. “No chance, why can’t someone be like, Fiona or something?” 

“We need Donkey! He’s crucial to the story!” Eddie rolls his eyes and walks over to grab the mask. “Okay, circle up. We’re gonna Rock, Paper, Scissors this. On my count.” 

The rest of the band huddles around and Eddie counts to three. Gareth throws rock and celebrates as Frank and Jeff both throw scissors. 

“Redemption!” He celebrates as Eddie counts Frank and Jeff in for three. 

In the end, Frank gets stuck with the Donkey costume, Jeff reprises his Pinocchio costume, and Gareth steals Farquaad out from under Frank in the Rock, Paper, Scissors coup. No one is particularly happy, but Eddie doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t care because Shrek Night is his favorite show of the year. Since its inception a few years earlier, entirely by accident when Eddie was forced to perform as Shrek as a dare, it’s become something of a cult classic among Corroded Coffin fans. The last show they play before Halloween is a costume night, and the fans have taken to the theme like, well, like an ogre to mud. 

There’s something incredibly special about screaming the lyrics to their latest hit while a sea of Shreks and Gingys and Fionas scream along with him. 

And tonight is no different. 

—

“Shreddie! Shreddie! Shreddie!” 

The crowd roars to life as the group takes the stage, waddling in costumes and maybe a little itchy from body paint and latex masks. 

“Give it up for Donkey on the bass!” Eddie shouts, pointing to Frank. He gives his best, saddest wave. 

“Give it up for Pinocchio on the guitar!” He yells again as Jeff hammers a riff in response and grins in his fedora and suspenders. 

“And last but certainly not least, give it up for Lord Farquaad on the drums!” Gareth drums a little rimshot as the hat pokes out over the top of his high hat. How he plans on drumming the whole night crouched on his knees is beyond Eddie, but ultimately not up to him. 

The crowd goes insane, as usual, and Eddie takes a second to soak it all in, to glance over the various costumes before everyone melds into one collective unit of chaos. Fairy Godmothers, and Donkeys, and Fionas as far as the eye can see. He even spots a Puss in Boots in the front of the pit, standing next to a very attractive Gingy. 

He doesn’t have time to assess the life choices that lead him to have that particular thought though, because Gareth starts counting them in. 

—

Their originals are hits, of course, as are the covers. After all, it wouldn’t be a true Shrek Night without at least a couple of songs from the famed movies. 

“And then I saw her face!” He shrieks, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “Now I’m a believer!” 

He runs around the stage, careful not to lose the microphone (again) as Jeff, Gareth, and Frank pound away at the melody. As the song comes to a close, Eddie slides on his knees, hardly protected by the cheap beige pants from Walmart, to the edge of the stage. 

“Not a trace! Of doubt in my mind! I’m a believer!” He sings, drawing out the final note. 

Chants and applause follow him up and he falls to his back, guitar over his chest, pounding his feet and fists on the stage as he catches his breath. Green paint melts from his forehead and when he brushes his hair back, he pulls his fingers away to see shades of ogre paint that’s surely made its way into his hairline. 

Before he can stand, Gareth shouts into his microphone, presumably to give Eddie another second or two. It’s no secret that I’m A Believer is high octane. 

“Do you know…” Gareth pauses for effect before shouting. “The muffin man?” 

Before the crowd yells out together, jumbled and out of sync, a faux high-pitched voice rings out surprisingly close to Eddie’s feet. 

“The muffin man!” 

He sits up and spots him: the hot Gingy he’d noticed earlier, laughing with a scrunched up nose, leaning on his friend’s shoulder. 

Oh, fuck me, Eddie thinks. He’s adorable. 

It’s usually the other way around: Eddie being ogled by a fan in the front row, staring up at him like he’s something to eat, like he’s prey. Ignoring them is easy enough, typically appeased with just a smile or a wink to carry with them forever, but this guy? The one with the fuzzy brown onesie with purple button and white, pretend icing lining the legs and waist? Well, Eddie’s never actually wanted a fan in the front row to look at him until now. 

So he scoots to the end of the stage, legs dangling over the edge, and steals Gareth’s line. Grinning down at the guy pressed to the railing, he screeches. “The muffin man!”

Gingy’s friend, known only to him at this point as Puss in Boots, elbows him hard in the ribs and he looks up to see Eddie staring right at him, crooked grin, and in hindsight, probably a bit more unhinged than planned. 

His friend looks back and forth between them, disbelief in the shape of her mouth and furrowed forehead, but it seems to work because Gingy returns the smile and has the audacity to wink at him. 

Eddie raises his green brows towards his hairline and nods appreciatively. The barricade isn’t far from the edge of the stage, close enough for Eddie to leave the microphone to the side and ask Gingy and his friend to hang back after the show. 

—

After one crowdsurfing escapade from Jeff, one quip into the microphone from Gareth about how he now understands why Farquaad is always so cranky, and few more of the originals peppered with All Star and Bad Reputation covers, Corroded Coffin takes an awkward but well-deserved bow. The crowd cheers for more, even after their encore, but eventually filter out through the venue’s exit doors, flooding the parking lots and nearby streets with Shrek characters. 

Eddie’s sure the local bars are having a blast. 

The only fans left are Gingy and Puss in Boots, who Eddie desperately needs the real names of before his thoughts turn into a troubling Shrek fanfiction. With a quick word to their manager, Chrissy, he makes sure they won’t leave before he comes back with a plan— a very weird, very niche plan that he hopes works on the presumably dorky, albeit confident, man in the fuzzy onesie. 

Her wings bump him in the shoulder and remind him that she truly is his Fairy Godmother. 

“Eddie,” Jeff deadpans as he plops his prop fedora on the backstage table and unfastens the buttons of his suspenders. “Are you really about to go hit on a fan? Dressed as Shrek? With an onion?”

“Do you have a better idea?” He whirls on him, a lone onion from a backstage fridge somewhere in one hand and a sponge trying to at least clean up his face paint in the other. He’s sure he looks insane. And he may as well be at this point. 

“Uh, don’t? That’s the better idea?” Frank offers in the corner, his face red and sweaty from the suffocating Donkey mask. 

“Not an option, so Operation Onion is on. I’ll be back. Or not. Hopefully not, actually.” Eddie shakes his head and sets down the makeup sponge, places the onion in his prop burlap bag. “Wish me luck!” 

Gareth sighs with ice packs on his knees. “Nope.” 

—

Eddie approaches the open backstage area, the spare lounge where Chrissy’s talking with Gingy and Puss in Boots. Maybe talking a little more intently to Puss in Boots, but he can’t begrudge her. After all, Eddie’s doing the same thing, isn’t he? 

He catches a bit of the conversation before opening the door, overhearing Chrissy refer to them as Steve and Robin. 

Thank God, he thinks to himself. Better than the placeholders. 

By no means does Eddie consider himself a rockstar— not yet, anyways. He enjoys the mid-level shows he gets to do with his friends, especially on nights like this, but he’s yet to harness that rockstar swagger. At his core, he’s still the marginally insecure, frantic kid from Bumfuck Nowhere, Indiana who paints D&D miniatures and speaks Elvish. And dresses up as Shrek, apparently. 

All of that to say, his heart pounds in his chest and his tongue feels twisted around itself when he knocks on the door. 

“Oh, hey, Eddie! Come on in! Great show tonight!” Chrissy smiles, wide and bright, as she introduces Steve and Robin. “This is Steve, and this is Robin. Steve, Robin, you all know Eddie. Or, should I say, Shreddie?” 

All three groan and shake their heads in good nature. 

“To be fair, man, you are still in the get-up. I thought you were going backstage to change or something.” Steve teases, eyes full of mirth and challenge. 

Exactly Eddie’s type. 

“And leave the three of you dressed up and feel out of place? Not a fucking chance.” Eddie takes a breath and goes for it, channeling his years of drama and general theatrics. 

He goes to take his seat on the sofa and pretends to trip, his burlap bag tipping over in time for his onion to fall to the floor at Steve’s feet. 

“Shit, sorry, that’s my onion,” Eddie shrugs. “Happens sometimes. Ogre and all, y’know? By the way, you’re gorgeous.” 

“Oh my God,” Chrissy mutters under her breath and ducks her head, leaning an elbow on Robin’s shoulder and covering her eyes. 

Steve’s mouth falls open into a little O and sits quietly for a few beats, nothing but the girls chuckling off to the side and an onion between them. Eddie’s about to swallow his tongue and see himself out when Steve leans forward and picks it up, tossing it up in the air above his head and catching it like a baseball. 

“Looks like you dropped this. And uh, thanks. I could say the same to you.” 

Robin wheezes and doubles over. “Jesus Christ, Steve. I know I’m a lesbian and all but this? This is what works on you?” 

Eddie likes her already, and a quick glance to Chrissy tells him Chrissy does, too. 

“Is this Ogre discrimination? Do I have to explain that we have—”

“Layers!” Steve finishes for him, nudging her in the ribs. “Ogres have layers, Rob. Don’t be so close-minded, God. Besides, he’s half melted and just ransacked backstage for an onion. Don’t judge our mating rituals.” 

Mating rituals? Eddie grins with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “Yeah, what he said.” 

Robin just shakes her head and gestures with one hand at the air between the two men, speechless. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go see if this sweaty, half-melted, babbling Onion Man wants to make out or something.” Steve slaps his hands on his thighs, still covered in fuzzy material, and stands. “What do you say?” 

When he shows up backstage to introduce Steve to the rest of Corroded Coffin, both of their faces are now smeared with green paint and Steve sports painted handprints in some telling places. 

Eddie gives them a bright smile and jazz hands, his friends’ expressions are as impressed as they are confused.

Shrek Night really is his favorite show of the year. 

tagging people who expressed interest <3: @cuips-not-cute @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @useless-nb-bisexual @kkpwnall@cuoredimuschio @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly@ohmagicalunicornlord @hellion-child @bxnsheeslxdia @pomegranatebb @vampeddie @horsegirleddiemunson @stobinesque @sidekick-hero @medusapelagia @slipperygiraff @epiclazershark @bayouteche thank you to @nostalgicbones for beta-reading and inspiring this!

[tboygareth]

here, have a little modern steddie meet-cute. meet-ugly, maybe? idk. 1k words, mostly dialogue

"uber for, uh," the guy in the beemer at the curb looks at the phone in his hand, "eddie m.?"

"hey, that's my name!" eddie shouts, stumbling toward the car. the world is tipping sideways a little, but it's been a good night.

he wrenches open the passenger side door and slides in.

"cool if i sit up front, man? i get motion sickness sitting in the back, and you would not like me when i'm motion sick."

"uh, sure?"

eddie pulls the door closed behind him and says, "so what's your name, pretty boy?"

"you don't check the app before getting into some random guy's car?" the guy asks with a huff.

"oh, no, i never order these things for myself." eddie laughs. he tries to think back, remember how many jameson shots he put back tonight. can't. oh, well. "my roommate always sets it up beforehand when i come down to the styx for a show."

"a show? like a concert?"

"uh, no. drag show. styx is a gay bar." the guy's quiet at that. "that a problem? still dunno your name."

"oh. steve," the guy - steve - says shortly. "no, it just... looks more like a... metal bar, or something."

"sometimes things are both, can you believe it! they do a drag show last wednesday of every month. good show tonight, all the girls looked great." he kicks his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watches steve's eyes cut sideways at them as he does. "do you like drag shows, steve?"

he's testing the waters, feeling steve out to see if he should be worried about getting into some random guy's car outisde a gay bar with a dead phone. eddie's definitely had a little too much tonight. he's probably got glitter in his hair. there's definitely black lipstick smeared across his cheek from when allison chaynz planted one on him earlier during her set.

"only been to a few, but yeah. they're a good time. good show."

safe, then. tentatively.

eddie studies steve for a moment, trying to figure him out. he's got this thing he does sometimes, in an uber; eddie's an easy read - he gets into an uber and the driver immediately flips their spotify over to a metal playlist.

the driver's are usually easy to read too, and it's eddie's favorite game; he tends to know when he's got a country boy behind the wheel, or an emo transplant from the mid aughts, or the indie girlies with their iced coffees and perpetual dark undereye circles that all the concealer in the world can't hide.

the guy looks like he wears teenage boy deodorant and smells like repressed trauma. he has the indie girlie dark circles under his eyes, an apple watch strapped to his wrist. rich boy. drives a beemer. good hair, stupid highlights. there's a tube of burt's bees cherry lip balm in the center console and a days old energy drink in the cupholder.

"hmmm, the front bottoms," he decides at last, after staring at steve for what must have been an uncomfortably long time.

"i'm sorry?"

"i said, the front bottoms."

"is that a... what's the word... a euphemism?"

"no, steeeeve. it's a band. check 'em out sometime, your daddy issues'll thank you. do you like music, steve?"

"sure."

eddie clicks his tongue. "smells like bullshit. no one who likes music says sure when someone asks if they like music."

they're stopped at a stoplight. from behind the wheel, steve is studying him right back, looking him up and down, his gaze coming to rest once again on eddie's shoes on the dash.

"get your feet down," steve says, pushing at eddie's shins. "do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"fine, fine. so if you don't listen to music, steve, what do you listen to in this fancy bmw?"

"sports, mostly," steve shrugs. "podcasts sometimes."

"oh, boy, you are a walking red flag, aren't you? shame you're so pretty."

"well what about you? what do you listen to?"

"guess."

"i dunno, probably that metal shit. five finger whatever, or something."

eddie presses his hand to his chest. "five finger - oh, stevie, i am wounded. i wouldn't be caught dead listening to bro rock."

out of the corner of his eye, he definitely catches a smile from steve.

steve holds an aux cable out to him. "here, then. wow me. show me some real metal or whatever."

"god, i'd love to take you up on that," eddie says, huffing out a little laugh. he holds his phone up. "this sucker's been dead for hours."

this time steve's the one to click his tongue. "shame."

"truly. so what's your story, steven? what's got you out at three in the morning?"

"it's my night off," steve shrugs. "just started night shift at the hospital, trying to get used to the new sleep schedule."

"mmm, the hospital. you a nurse?"

"i am. trauma nurse."

"nice. ever see any gnarly injuries?"

"had a pretty fucked up dog bite come in the other night."

"shit."

"yeah." another stoplight, another unsubtle once over from steve. "so what about you? what do you do?"

"line cook."

steve's eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary. "oh, but i'm the walking red flag. got it."

"whoa," eddie laughs. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i've dated line cooks. everyone's dated a line cook."

"sounds like something a slut would say, steve. craziest dick you've ever had, huh?"

"mmm."

it's not a denial.

they're getting close to eddie's building now, and that's an actual shame. because steve's cute. he needs a haircut maybe, and the stubble around his mouth and chin is just on the wrong side of five o'clock shadow, but he's got these distracting little moles along his face and neck and arm that eddie's been itching to play connect the dots with since he got in the car.

"wait, i know this building," steve says as he slows at the curb and looks at the address on his phone again. "my roommate's girlfriend lives in this building."

it clicks into place, then, for eddie.

"oh, shit! you're robin's steve!"

steve's eyebrows draw together as he gapes at eddie, and then his eyes go wide with realization. "chrissy's ed?"

"eddie," he corrects. "gotta be a level twenty friend to call me ed. and chrissy's the only level twenty friend i'll ever have."

"noted. good to finally meet you, man. i, uh. i guess this is you, then, huh?"

"yeah, sure is. maybe i'll see ya around." eddie goes to get out of the car.

"oh, you will," steve says, his smile lopsided and goofy. "i'll make sure of it."

"hold ya to it," eddie promises with a wink.

steve wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious wave as eddie walks backward on the sidewalk toward his building.

so robin's steve is cute. maybe he should have been letting chrissy set them up this whole time.

still. sports and podcasts. guy's a walking red flag. who knows, maybe they're green. eddie's never been able to see the difference anyway.

[sneez]

i cannot stop thinking about this stanza of the epitaph the 2nd duke of buckingham wrote about fairfax (his father-in-law). his transgender swag

[id: two digital drawings of mary fairfax and the 2nd duke of buckingham sitting together. in the first image buckingham has his arm around mary (who is looking disgruntled) and is looking at something out of view, saying ‘your dad looks gnc af’. in the second image mary is turning to him with an incredulous expression, saying ‘YOU’RE INSANE’, whilst he looks sheepish.

the third image is a screenshot of a verse from the epitaph. it reads:

UNDder this Stone doth lye One born for Victory, Fairfax the Valliant, and the only He, Who e'r, for that alone a Conqueror wou’d be, Both Sexes Virtues were in him combin'd: He had the Fierceness of the Manliest Mind, And all the Meekness too of Woman kind.

end id.]

bonus: the gnc dad in question

[id: a digital drawing of thomas fairfax sitting in his wheelchair, reading a letter. he has a blanket over his legs and is wearing a serious expression. end id.]

[maximoff-pan]

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.” 

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens. 

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too. 

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it. 

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.  

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to. 

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist. 

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband. 

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children. 

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington. 

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.  

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?” 

“How will you get it to her?” He questions. 

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it. 

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered. 

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her. 

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation. 

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way. 

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in. 

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you. 

“I never do.” Is your instant reply. 

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested. 

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion. 

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through. 

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.” 

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you. 

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.” 

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that. 

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.” 

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge. 

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak. 

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won. 

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot. 

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.” 

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong. 

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you. 

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.  

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column. 

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say. 

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym. 

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to. 

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n). 

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross. 

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you. 

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.  

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has. 

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so. 

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you. 

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now. 

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions. 

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well. 

We need to talk. 

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that. 

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her. 

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you. 

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.  

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too. 

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.” 

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm. 

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor. 

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing. 

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all. 

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

[paperbackribs]

Eddie's Proposal

Prompt Day 28 – Proposal | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Eddie and Chrissy are besties, pre-steddie, buckingham, no Upside Down AU | WC: 877  For the @steddieholidaydrabbles

💘💅💘💅💘

“I have a proposal for you,” Eddie says.

Chrissy looks up from filing her nails, splayed across his bed with head and hands hanging off the edge, “I thought we established you don’t swing that way, babe.”

Folding his legs under him, Eddie sits cross-legged on the navy carpet by her side. David Bowie plays softly in the background because he’s not a barbarian and he’d do anything for this girl; plus, Steve loves Dancing in the Street and who is Eddie to not develop an appreciation in the gorgeous face of all that enthusiasm?

He tuts at her, “But you do about the other half of the time, so I have a proposal for you.”

“Eddie, dear, darling of my heart, you should have brought a ring. Maybe a big cheesy placard with hearts painted all over it.” She focuses on a particularly rough edge, squinting at it. “Diamond princess cut, please and thank you, sweetheart.”

Eddie scoffs even as he rubs his sweaty palms over his knees. The album fades into Cat People and Bowie roars that he’s been putting out fire with gasoline. He wonders if the lyrics are why he feels so hot suddenly. “No, not for me. For Steve.”

Chrissy’s smile is immediate and bright, “Thank God. Yes, do it. Ask him out, for sure.” Her long blonde hair shakes around her face as she laughs, a beautiful tinkling sound that spears through his heart. Eddie grips his knee; this is what he wants, he reminds himself.

“I think you’ll have to do it, he’s too shy,” Eddie says around the copper in his mouth.

Chrissy snorts, shooting him a wry look, “Steve Harrington? Shy? He struts around in barely there short shorts whenever we come over for his pool. The man doesn’t have a shy bone in his body.”

“There’s a bone somewhere,” Eddie mutters to himself, thinking of the heart palpitations he’s suffered from an affectionate, touchy-feely Steve by the poolside. Louder he says, “But you know it’s different for emotional stuff. He’s been hurt before and I think he’s gun shy.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t track,” she rebuts, frowning as she accidentally chips a piece of baby blue polish off. “He’s been very clear that he wants to move on. And with who.”

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face, dropping below the heart that has fallen out of his chest with a splat. “He’s asked you out already.” As he watches Chrissy’s face move through a series of complicated expressions, Eddie tells his heart to get itself under control: this is good, this was the goal all along.

“Eddie,” Chrissy begins, throwing aside her file to prop herself above him on her elbows, he tilts his head up to meet her suspicious gaze. “Are you asking me to date Steve? Not someone else?”

“Definitely not someone else,” Eddie answers quickly. “He should have the best and you’re the best, you two would be… the best together,” he finishes lamely albeit sincerely.

Eddie immediately knows that his crush on Steve has been ill-hidden when her wide blue eyes fill with pity. What he doesn’t expect is for amusement to swiftly replace it. “You’re an idiot,” she says affectionately.

Eddie straightens, he doesn’t expect her to cede ground to Steve because well, look at the gorgeous, sweet fucker, but she doesn’t need to rub his nose in it. “I know,” he sighs, “And I shouldn’t have let myself develop feelings for him, but at the very least I would be happy if he were happy.”

He moves up, kneeling like a knight under his queen, taking her hand in earnest, “You two are the best people in my life, and I just know you’d be good for each other.”

“Eddie…” She moves her free hand up to his head and instead of the gentle stroke he had expected she takes a chunk of his hair and yanks it, hard. “Ow, motherfucker!” He jerks back, staring at her incredulously.

“Eddie Munson, who does Steve spend all his time with?” She demands exasperatedly.

“Me,” he shakes his sore head, “That’s how I know you two would fit.”

“Yeah, well, Robin might knee-cap you for suggesting it.”

“Robin? You and…” Eddie tilts his head, the only way he can keep the world in focus as it tips over. “Yes, me and Robs,” Chrissy rolls her eyes, “And I think she would knee-cap me if I tried to hit on Steve when he clearly wants you.”

The world is still tilting, he thinks as he wordlessly points to himself. Chrissy nods, smirking. “Apparently, she’s not that far off of doing the same to Steve, if only to put him out of his misery.”

“Because he wants… me?” Eddie whispers because reverent things should be treated delicately. Chrissy patiently nods, allowing him time to reconcile the hope ballooning inside him against the sudden drumming of impatience.

Eddie drops her hand, scrambling up. “Sorry princess, I have to see a man about a proposal,” he calls out as he runs out of the room.

Chrissy shakes her head, grabbing her file and flopping back onto the pillows on his bed. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she mutters, thinking about how Robin’s going to lose it when she tells her about this later.

[babyrunsforfanfic]

Cheerleader, OVER | e.m.

summary: the scene where chrissy cunningham goes to eddie munson’s trailer and almost gets… yknow’d, until you show up and save the day

eddie munson x cheerleader fem!reader

warnings/tags: it’s the vecna scene you guys you all know it so just prepare, angst?, yeah angst, the reader and chrissy are childhood bffls / ‘platonic with a capital p’ soulmates, reader and jason get into a fight, buckingham if you squint not even very hard, fluff too i think?, allusions to chrissy’s ed — it’s over quick i swear, eddie is immediately infatuated and flirty with the reader to be honest

wc: 2265ish

•••

“found it!” eddie thumped the small plastic bag against his free hand, grinning as he walked out of his bedroom. “peaceful bliss just moments away.”

eddie internally chuckled at his own joke as he came into his living room, but froze at the sight in front of him. if he was being honest with himself, he already couldn’t believe that the chrissy cunningham, had asked him for drugs. i mean, it was hawkins- and by all accounts, chrissy was the perfect representation of what the town stood for.

but eddie could close his eyes and remember a small grinning girl from middle school who was nothing but kind; so really, who was he to judge?

“chrissy?” eddie kept his voice soft as he watched as chrissy’s eyes fluttered. “hey! wake up!” eddie snapped his fingers in front of chrissy’s face, a frown painted on his face. “i don’t like this-”

he really didn’t fucking like it when she started to fucking levitate.

•••

you thumped your thumbs against the steering wheel of your car, sun visor down even though it was pitch black outside. you couldn’t help but eye yourself in the little mirror on the visor, a thin cut across your lip. you tongued at it, giggling to yourself as you shook your head- before you turned into the trailer park.

you hadn’t fully believed your friend chrissy when she’d called for you at the school, and asked you to pick her up from eddie munson’s house. she’d been off lately, though you had honestly had just chalked it up to being off due to her boyfriend, jaspn carver. specifically, the jason carver you had just left detention because of- and the reason for the cut on your lip.

walking in on him making out with some girl had definitely not been a surprise- but him grabbing you by the collar of your cheerleading sweatshirt definitely had been. however, honestly, after the things you had experienced the past few years? it was something you welcomed with open fucking arms.

you’d spat in face, called him a couple of names, and he’d accepted it… until you informed dear ol’ jason you were one thousand percent telling chrissy; and you’d be right next to her when she dumped his ass. he had backhanded you then, his class ring catching your lip, and you’d spat a mouthful of blood into his face… just as the gym coach walked in.

he’d given all three of you detention immediately, though you knew he hadn’t necessarily wanted to give you it. he had let you go to the nurse’s office first for a bag of ice and some disinfectant wipes, and your “detention” had been sitting quietly while jason got his ass handed to him and had to run drills up and down the gymnasium.

you grinned to yourself as you pulled into eddie munson’s driveway, parking your car next to his van, though you made no move to actually turn it off. you pressed on the horn a couple of times, giggling as you and chrissy’s favorite song in the entire world came on your car’s radio.

“i come home in the morning light-” ♪

you sang quietly along, but paused when the lights inside of the munson’s trailer flickered. you weren’t a stranger to flickering, and while you hadn’t had anymore… experiences, the sense of dread in your stomach immediately nauseated you. the lights flickered again, and you didn’t hesitate to practically launch yourself from your car- looping to the trunk, and pulling out your cheer bag. while the lights continued to flicker, you could hear eddie munson inside screaming, pleading for chrissy to wake up.

and that just would not fucking do.

you’d given too much already, you’d seen the crazy shit in hawkins more than once; and you refused to let it take one of the last things you had. it could take as much as it wanted from you.

but it would not take chrissy cunningham.

not if you had any fucking thing to say about it.

“but girls, they want to have fun-” ♪

cyndi lauper’s voice accompanied your hurried walk up eddie’s steps, a crowbar tight in your grasp of you right hand, as your cb radio was held in your left. you didn’t bother to knock, ramming your shoulder against eddie’s door- successfully causing it to open without having to turn the knob.

you’d learned that trick from max when she had moved into the trailer park and forgotten her key.

“chris-” your friend’s name died on your lips as you met the wild eyes of eddie munson first, before your eyes darted to the back of chrissy. while facing away from you would’ve been normal, her levitating several feet off the air was really fucking not. “munson, what the fuck?”

“she just started doing that!” eddie loudly hissed, and you nodded as you tossed your cb to him- before you rounded to face chrissy.

“chrissy wake the fuck up!” you hissed, trying your hardest to ignore the way the whites of her eyes fluttered in your direction. “i swear to god christina eloise cunningham i will kill you if you fucking leave me, you hear me?”

“when the working day is done-” ♪

chrissy’s eyes fluttered rapidly as the music continued to play, and you shot a glance to eddie. chrissy had stopped floating, and while you couldn’t see the blue you knew of her eyes- her head was unmistakably inclined toward you.

“keep talking to her!” eddie lowly ordered, and you nodded- immediately tossing your crowbar toward him.

“don’t let that fucking song stop, munson.”

•••

chrissy cunningham flinched away from the creature in front of her, swallowing back bile at the incessant smell of rotting food. flies buzzed near her as the creature chuckled lowly, his eyes almost slits as he extended a clawed hand.

“it’s time for your suffering to end-” the creature purred, and chrissy sobbed as it raked one of it’s clawed fingers almost gently against chrissy’s throat. “it won’t hurt-”

“CHRISTINA ELOISE CUNNINGHAM-”

you. that was your voice, accompanied by cyndi lauper. chrissy swallowed again, looking past the creature’s shoulder as a blue tinged portal seemed to open up. she could see you, in eddie munson’s living room, looking up at her with a crowbar in your hand.

you were blurry, but it was unmistakably you.

“she can’t save you, no one can.” the creature hissed, voice distorted. “she hates you, chrissy-”

chrissy clenched her eyes shut.

memories flashed before her eyes as she listened to you call her name over and over, with cyndi lauper’s ‘girls just wanna have fun’ playing in the background.

you and chrissy as little kids, promising to always be the best of friends.

you and chrissy as tweens, you with braces and her with a perm; giggling over boys in a magazine together.

you and chrissy just last year, cackling as you darted around the starcourt mall together- both with ice cream cones in your hands.

you, just a couple months ago- cradling chrissy as she leaned over a toilet in the hawkins high girl’s bathroom, the taste of bile in her mouth.

you, a couple months ago— promising that you still loved her when she talked about how pretty a girl from band was.

you, telling her that her mom was wrong. that chrissy was enough, more than enough.

you, packing food for her for after cheer practice.

you, with scars that you couldn’t fully explain.

you, with hands that shook and a shorter fuse.

you, with a crowbar in your trunk and a cb radio you never touched— but always had on you.

you. you. you. you. you.

all things in chrissy’s life were entwined with you, you her soulmate. you, a girl who never judged her, not once (except for that crush she had on tammy thompson you would never let that go).

chrissy swallowed when she felt the creature drag a claw against the gold necklace she wore; a tiny dainty chain that had your initial on it.

you wore one that matched it; with a tiny ‘c’ that hung in the hollow of your throat.

whoever, whatever this creature was- chrissy knew one thing for certain.

he, it… it was so fucking wrong about you.

chrissy opened her eyes.

•••

eddie watched as chrissy fell.

you caught her immediately, slamming onto your knees in a move eddie could only tie to cheer- and then you had the strawberry-blonde girl cradled to you.

you both haphazardly tipped to the side, and you stopped the both of you from cracking your skulls against the carpet. the lights stopped flickering, and it was silent as chrissy sobbed against you.

eddie couldn’t help but watch for a moment, before he stepped out- quickly walking to your car. he turned it off, grabbing the tape- and was quick to come back in, jamming it back into the radio that was propped near the television.

you were watching him with calculating eyes, chrissy still cradled against you. you’d tugged her ponytail out in the mere moments eddie had been out, and he watched as you ran your fingers through her hair in a practiced movement.

he didn’t even flinch when chrissy gagged up bile onto his carpet.

“chrissy… what happened?” your voice was soft, a coaxing thing really- and eddie watched as chrissy sat up off of you, coming to lean against the bottom of the couch so she could face you and eddie both.

chrissy’s hands trembled as she used the heel of her palm to wipe at her nose, head shaking slowly from side to side.

“you won’t believe me if i tell you.” chrissy’s voice was shot to hell, and eddie watched as chrissy swallowed sharply.

you shook your head, and eddie felt something roll in his chest at the look that flashed in your eyes as your mouth opened.

“try me, cunningham.”

•••

you listened as chrissy spoke of the creature, and you tried to ignore the tremble that started in your hands.

you listened as chrissy spoke of how everything around chrissy changed.

the rotting food.

photos of you and her; with you burned out.

the man, the creature, the thing.

of how all of a sudden- she’d seen and heard you.

you and cyndi lauper.

how she’d bit the thing in the hand and it dropped her, and she’d just fucking bolted.

eddie had excused himself at one point, coming back with apple slices and water, as well as shirts for both you and chrissy to change into.

you weren’t fully sure what the ‘hellfire club’ was exactly, but you’d seen the party and even eddie himself wear them on several occasions.

you both took it easily.

after eating several apple slices and huddling all together, you swallowed several times before you cleared your throat.

“if i tell you both about this… i’m violating not just signed ndas but also several pink promises.” your voice was soft, and you kept your eyes on your hands. your hands were scarred, and you tried to remember back to just three years ago when they were as smooth as could be. “but if you want to know-”

“tell us.” eddie’s voice was sharp, and chrissy made a soft noise from next to you when you flinched.

“you’ve been protecting me from this for three years… haven’t you?” chrissy asked softly, and you didn’t look at her when you nodded slowly. eddie let out a noise that sounded closer to that of a wounded animal than a human, and you kept your eyes set on the palms of your hands. “the mall?”

“yeah.” you nodded, swallowing slightly.

“before that? when you were in the hospital after the byers boy was found?” chrissy questioned, and you barely dipped your chin in a nod. “more?”

you folded in on yourself, pulling your knees up to your chest- resting your chin on your knees as you wiggled your fingers toward eddie. his hand went to the crowbar first, and you let out a wet sounding giggle as you shook your head. when he touched your cb you nodded, and once it was in your hand- you let out a soft trembling sigh.

“i’ll tell you guys everything, but i have to make a call first.” you murmured, and you leaned into chrissy when the strawberry-blonde girl threw her arm around your shoulders. you sunk into her side, and pressed a couple buttons on the radio.

“make the call then, skirts.” eddie teased, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat as he tapped his foot against your white ked sneaker.

you were fucked. the radio crackled in your hand as it was turned on, and you fiddled with finding the station- before you held the button down and spoke.

“party— this is cheerleader, over.” you spoke loudly, and you watched as eddie’s brow furrowed slightly. chrissy made a noise from her spot next to you, but you didn’t look at her as you spoke again. “party this is cheerleader-”

“babysitter and birdie, go ahead.”

“bard and ranger, go ahead.”

“journalist, go ahead.”

“zoomer, go ahead.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the overlapping voices, and especially due to the way eddie’s brow was furrowed. chrissy was giggling against your shoulder, and you licked your lips as you held the button down- before you spoke again.

“cheerleader has a code red, over.” you, chrissy, and eddie waited in silence for a few moments, and you swallowed nervously.

after a moment of silence, the radio burst to life.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Week 4 Masterlist

It's the end of the challenge! See below for all of the last week's posts from some very talented writers.

Thank you to everyone who participated by writing or creating art, for those who followed along and reblogged to support these writers and artists, and everyone who cheered me on during the chaos of still handling life and this blog every single day!

Keep your eyes peeled throughout 2024 for some pop-up challenges!

DAY 22 - SPORTS AU

deep penetration up the field by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: secret relationship, football player steve, musician eddie, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation

I wanna dance with somebody by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated T | cw: some vague mention of eddie's boner | tags: no UD au, meet cute, good neighbor eddie munson, dancer steve harrington

Go For Gold by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | no cw | tags: swimming au, olympic trials, racing, rivalry, a dash of secret relationship, eddie & gareth are bffs

Freestyle love by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | no cw | tags: enemies to lovers, whump, university/college au

She shoots, she scores by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: lesbian steddie au, genderswap steddie, soccer au

The New Highs and Lows of a Ball Boy by @klausinamarink | Rated G | cw: ankle injury | tags: volleyball, pre-relationship, jeff is eddie's best friend, sweetheart steve, secret shakespeare fan steve, post s1

winter games by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: basketball, fluff, eddie enduring jock stobin

DAY 23 - UNCLE WAYNE ADOPTS STEVE

wayne's got him by steddieas-shegoes | Rated G | cw: migraines | tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

Eddie Munson's family dinner by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: nudity | tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, royal steve, established relationship

Beautiful Boys by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: lingering injuries/trauma | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, good uncle wayne munson, wayne & steve, wayne pov

breaking frozen ground by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, gardening, appalachian wayne

Time after time by @alingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug

DAY 24 - BIRTHDAY

The king's gift by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated T | cw: very light dubcon if you squint, mild blood and violence | tags: time travel, magic au, fantasy au, royal eddie, time traveler steve

birthday mess by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: frosting in places frosting shouldn't be, slight body worship, edging, blowjob, light dom/sub, dom eddie, sub steve

Dirty Thirty by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: childhood trauma, language | tags: established relationship, future fic, steve & gareth, eddie turns 30, birthday blues, hurt/comfort, steve pov

holly jolly birthday by @cranberrymoons | Rated E | no cw | tags: fluff, teasing, light bondage

The day before Christmas, a day to forget by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: reference to neglectful parenting | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, surprise party

DAY 25 - CHRISTMAS

light of my life, pain in my ass by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: interrupted sex, mention of dom drop | tags: established relationship, mishap with christmas lights, dom/sub, dom eddie, sub steve, hurt/comfort, they take care of each other

words that are hard to swallow by @starryeyedjanai | Rated T | no cw | tags: modern au, christmas gifts, birthday gifts, accidental come ons

Merry whatever by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: fluff, getting together, first kiss

art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Sophie Munson's Best Christmas Gift Ever by @klausinamarink | Rated G | no cw | tags: domestic fluff, transmasc eddie, steddie dads, side buckingham, modern au

his heart's fondest wish by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: mentioned canon character death, grief, unhealthy coping mechanism, self-destructive behavior | tags: mourning, hurt steve harrington, dead eddie munson, open ended, unreliable narrator

Five Christmases by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language | tags: established relationship, future fic, christmas day, full schedule, family & friends, mostly fluff, a little obligation, steve pov

one christmas morning by @cranberrymoons | Rated M | no cw | tags: fluff, future fic, married life

Oh ho the mistletoe by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: pre-steddie, getting together, mistletoe

DAY 26 - "WHO DID THIS TO YOU?"

nowhere else he wants to be by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | cw: mention of violence, mention of homophobia | tags: established steddie, eddie lives, hurt/comfort, hurt steve, post-vecna, steve has at least one bad parent

i'm stayin' by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: off-screen violence, mentioned childhood abuse (not in detail) | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, established relationship, secret relationship, pre-season 4, hurt/comfort, asthmatic steve

A Cat-tivating Distraction by @paperbackribs | Rated T | no cw | tags: established relationship, modern au

In too deep by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: blood and injury, mild gore, monsters, tentacles, horror, light mind control, referenced murder, billy hargrove (not in this but guess "who did this?") | tags: eddie munson whump, billy hargrove being an asshole, lake monster steve harrington, dark steve harrington, possessive behavior

Kiss me better by @katyawriteswhump | Rated M | cw: sex, possible temporary character death | tags: whump, magic au, incubus!eddie, hurt steve, fluff

Hell to Pay by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: aftermath of off-screen violence, injuries | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, but hawkins is shitty to him, established relationship, uncle wayne & steve, hurt/comfort, steve pov

I'll help your pain by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: canonical injuries, recovering from head injury, mention of neglectful parenting & medical neglect | tags: concussed steve, steve has head trauma, pre-steddie

I'm Still Here, Boys by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: offscreen physical assault | tags: wound care, hurt/comfort, post s4, steve lives with the munsons, wayne being the best uncle

First Responder by @steddie-island | Rated T | cw: blood, off-screen violence, possessive tommy hagan (off-screen)

DAY 27 - COFFEE SHOP / BOOKSHOP / TATTOO AU

fairy porn crisis by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content | tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

Crumb Together by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language | tags: modern au, meet cute, platonic stobin, coffee shop/bakery au, fluff, steve pov

Baby, it's cold outside by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: alcohol, implied sex | tags: coffee shop owner steve, tattoo studio owner eddie, christmas fluff, flirting, sexual tension, getting together

A coffee delivery by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: coffee shop au, tattoo au, tattoo artist eddie munson, barista steve harrington, pre-steddie

DAY 28 - PROPOSAL

more than everything else by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

Twenty-Eight Across by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: heavy petting, fade to black sex, afterglow | tags: established relationship, future fic, long-term love, fluff, softness, proposal, eddie pov

Eddie's Proposal by @paperbackribs | Rated T | no cw | tags: eddie and chrissy are besties, pre-steddie, buckingham, no upside down au

Exactly what it's meant to say by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: established relationship, moving in together, fluff, marriage proposal

i was supposed to ask you! by lingeringmirth | Rated M | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff & angst, banter, some shenanigans, brief chief hopper cameo

I love you though you hurt me so (i'm gonna pack my things and go) by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: hurt/no comfort | tags: failed proposal, break-up, angst

DAY 29 - SPICY CONTENT (MATURE OR EXPLICIT)

safe and warm by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: dom/sub | tags: soft dom eddie munson, sub steve harrington, service mouth steve harrington, cockwarming, overuse of terms of endearment, subspace, coming untouched, aftercare

Art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Rainbow in the Dark by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: sexual content, 18+, mentions of recreational weed use | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, first time, fooling around in the van, inexperience, grinding, bisexual steve harrington, bisexual eddie munson, eddie pov

A well-rounded meal by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | cw: sexually explicit content, d/s dynamic, cockwarming, humiliation kink, praise kink, subspace | tags: dom steve, sub eddie

naturally induced by @lingeringmirth | Rated E | cw: intersex omega eddie, vaginal knotting | tags: omegaverse, omega eddie munson, alpha steve harrington, pregnant eddie, inducing labor through sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, knotting, bit of a breeding kink, sappily in love steve, all the banter

Size doesn't matter. by a timeofyourlife | Rated M | no cw | tags: established relationship, steve has a small dick

Call Me by @wormdebut | Rated E | no cw | tags: phone sex, football player steve, rockstar eddie, slutty dudes, masturbation

DAY 30/31 - NEW YEAR'S EVE / RESOLUTIONS

new year, new me by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: semi-public sex, unsafe sex, under-negotiated kink | tags: strangers to lovers, meet-horny, rock star eddie munson, actor steve harrington, modern au, dirty talk, light dom/sub, anal fingering, anal sex

We'll give it a shot by just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | cw: aftermath of injury, aftermath of trauma | tags: established relationship, recovery, fluff

Go With This by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: underage drinking, weed, off-screen sex while under the influence | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, new year's eve party, all the teens, kissing at midnight, getting together, morning after, eddie pov

Happy New Year by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: minor steddie

364 days later by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | cw: off-screen/pre-fic violence including domestic violence | tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, established steddie

being brave by lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: new year's eve, first kiss, fluff

Last Few Minutes For Another Lifetime by @klausinamarink | Rated G | no cw | tags: modern au, post-breakup, getting back together, hopeful ending

Don't cha wanna dance? by just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated T | cw: vague boner references | tags: no UD au, dancer steve harrington, good neighbor eddie munson, flirting, sexual tension

Doomsday clock by @hellfireloserclub | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, PTSD, apocalypse

A kiss for the New Year by atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: past stommy, past stancy, steddie dads

New by @vecnuthy | Rated G | no cw | tags: pre-steddie

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Hype's Holiday Drabbles, day 11-20

[Day 1-10]

All my fics written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11-20

Artwork by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Prompt: Royalty AU | Rated: G | CW: none | Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

Late night surprise

Prompt: Only one bed | Rated: G | CW: Aftermath of trauma | Tags: Fuff; Humor; Post Vecna; Established relationship; Platonic Stobin supremacy; There may be several beds, but only one of them has Steve in it | Artwork link

Something to see

Prompt: Roadtrip/Vacation | Rated: G | CW: none | Tags: Modern AU, established relationship, honeymoon, Steve is Dustin’s dad | Set in the same universe as Someone who cares

Eddie Munson's second chance

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending | Rated: G | CW: referenced child neglect/abuse | Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Blast to the past

Prompt: Time travel | Rated: T | CW: Mild blood and gore; Mild horror; Monsters | Tags: Steve Harrington whump; Magic; Time travel (duh); Royal Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington needs a break | Artwork link

Too hot to be true

Prompt: Modern AU | Rated: T | CW: none Tags: Modern AU; | Podcaster!Eddie; Steve and Dustin are brothers; sexual tension

Just another manic Monday

Prompt: Platonic Stobin | Rated: G | CW: monsters |Tags: Urban fantasy AU; Magic AU; Creature AU; background Steddie; background Buckingham | Artwork link

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort | Rated: M | CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury |Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff | Artwork link

To the victor the spoils

Prompt: Enemies to lovers | Rated: T | CW: light blood and violence; steamy kissing; very light dubcon if you squint (they're actually both super into it, I promise) | Tags: Fantasy AU; Magic AU; Guard!Steve; Thief!Eddie; Sexual tension; Flirting; Fighting; First kiss | Artwork link

A flower for a flower

Prompt: Magic AU | Rated: T | CW: Sexually explicit language | Tags: Fantasy AU; Knight Steve Harrington; Witch Eddie Munson; Repaying debts; Open ending

[Day 21-31]

[planetsstarsandmoons]

Tells of the signs

Aries: they have wide foreheads with hair with a very close hairline so their foreheads look smaller when they aren’t! They are quick to react to anything that is or feels personally, and I mean that literally. Like you’ve just finished your sentence and they’re already throwing back what they think or they want ‘out there’. This goes for anything, small or big.

Taurus: we know about the square jaw, but why is nobody talking about their sleepy eyes!! Their peaceful but irritated, serene happy sleepy bulls eyes? Think Robert Pattinson, Craig Ferguson, Gigi Hadid, Lizzo...

Gemini: I know this is cliche, but it’s basically their ability to be two different people in different situations. If your answer is: oh yes, they absolutely have that without it being an (slightly) awkward part of their personality to realise this about, they’re a gemini. Think Paul Mccartney, Stevie Nicks, Prince, Donald Trump, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie, etc

Cancers: you’re looking in someone’s eyes, trying to guess their zodiac sign and suddenly their cheeks start being very noticeable, they notice you remarking something and their eyes start twinkling, you think they’re not definitely not a cancer, chances are 99% that they are a cancer.

Leo: front foot forward. It’s mostly pretty obvious to see whose sun is exalted and whose isn’t.

Virgo: the virgo men do NOT believe in astrology, will debate you on it, will condescend you, will condescend it, cannot leave you be, girls tend to stay quiet and be like ‘oh whatever, happy for you’, the guys won’t. I’ve seen seven people in my life openly condescend astrology, adamantly like not even turning even a little bit around, using faulty logic and everything, that way and all of them were virgo men. To the point where I started laughing out loud when I asked them their sign, to find out they were another virgo man. So if you encounter one of these, specifically those who debate you with earthy ‘logic’ instead of ‘idk i’m just not feeling the faith in it at all, because how can...’ etc, they are a virgo. The virgo women I know are so organised.. in a certain way. It’s that their head inside is so disorganised, chaotic and such a mess that they keep up so well with stuff on the outside, like markers, college notes, little posters on their wall. They’re definitely ‘that girl’ by nature and they’re natural hard workers.

Libra: they’re kind of insane. The girls are very passive, but have very charming egos and you see their conscious struggle to not be people pleasers. Kim Kardashian, Kate Winslet, Naomi Watts, Bella Hadid, Dakota Johnson. The libra guys are... well most of them are insane. I’m dividing into gender, but it actually comes from ‘who has a lot of very well nurtured confidence?’ Those libras are ~batshit crazy~. Think Cardi B, John Lennon, Lindsey Buckingham, Doja Cat, Anthony Mackie, Jeff Goldblum and Simon Cowell. Noah Schnapp and Jimin belong to the girls’ side and Brie Larsson was bullied into being there too.

Scorpio: non scorpios, like all people, can divide people into types. You’ve got the cheery types, the organised types, the blunt types, the very sensitive types, and the intense types. Only scorpios don’t know that ‘intense type’ is a type at all. To them it’s just air. You can’t look at yourself, not even with a mirror, no matter how hard you try. So if you see someone who looks at you casually the way any other sign would attempt to m*rder someone with their eyes, it’s a scorpio. They also have slightly upturned eyes with sharper eyebrows.

Sagittarius: they all have that smile! The tenseless eyes squint and a laugh that goes like 😕 but then upwards of course! Their tell is most often their mercury in sagittarius (😂), which sag suns have most of the time. Sags are obsessed with going to things. ~Going~ outside, ~going~ out for a drink, ~going~ to the supermarket and ~going~ skiing or on vacation. That is really when they’re in their orange element and you can feel it. You definitely have to get to know a person before figuring out they’re a sagittarius, I think.

Capricorns: with white capricorns, their hair colour as a child is a big tell. Blonde children get darker hair as they grow older and mature. Capricorn children are able to go from blonde hair when they were small to dark brown almost black hair when they’re older. I’ve seen it with four (!!) capricorns myself. For the rest, look at their eyebrows. Capricorn’s eyebrows are such prominent features without somehow it being the first thing you notice about them. It’s a weird combination.

Aquarius: aquarii have these oval, round jaws that I can’t really explain, and when you try to imagine their face, their eyes ‘feel’ higher up in their face than most people have. With aquarii i often notice the lack of an actual ego in astrological and psychological terms (not in social terms, god no). They let everything else speak for themselves while setting themselves apart from the rest. Aquarius’ (self)-identified type of quirkiness is always some form of ‘more lowkey’ or ‘more distant from the rest in this or that way’.

Pisces: vampire teeth and sparkling deeper set eyes. Flat ears and \/ chins. People don’t often talk about how when pisces are enjoying themselves, it’s definitely, almost always noticable.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

i'm just the devil with love to spare

by AThousandRainyDays

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, background buckingham if you squint Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Maxine "Max" Mayfield is Steve's daughter, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Getting Together, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Concierge Steve Harrington, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Las Vegas, References to Addiction, both eddie and steve have emotional support lesbians, POV Alternating, Not Beta Read Words: 18,101 Chapters: 4/4

Summary

Steve is a professional. He's worked in luxury hotel guest services for almost a decade, and can handle anything. Except maybe a guest who's not a guest at all. Eddie's in Vegas turning over a new leaf. Except while he's looking for stability, he finds a cute concierge that just won't get out of his head.

[cuoredimuschio]

"wound up" for wip weekend.

ahhh, thank you for the ask!! 💗💗 desperately need to be working on this one too, so i appreciate the motivation!! here's a taste of stobin ft. buckingham for ya 😉

Sitting back down, he bides his time for a moment, taking a sip of his beer, stifling the resulting pebble of a burp against his fist, before he says, “You know, you can thank me anytime you want.” Robin lifts her head, just enough to squint at him. “For what?” “Bringing you to the right place at the right time. I better get a mention in your vows.” She doesn’t laugh like she’s supposed to. She doesn’t sigh or roll her eyes. She doesn’t stare at him, as far from amused as humanly possible, to a degree only she is capable of. She sits up, like someone installed a ramrod in her spine, and she looks at Steve the way she would if she were a deer who somehow found herself in the middle of a six-lane highway and he were a guardian-angel-come-crossing-guard, camped out with a handy-dandy hook on the median.  “What do I do, Steve? And don’t—” She jabs a shaky finger into his bicep “—tell me to ignore her. That’s so bullshit, and it doesn’t work like you think it does.” “No, no.” He dips back in for another sip, stealing himself a second to shove down his better judgment. Everything in him tells him to jump in front of this, to stop it, whether it’s bound to be a bullet or not; he won’t be able to stomach the carnage if he’s wrong, again. He muscles back a cough and raps his knuckles twice against the tabletop. “You don’t need to ignore her. You’ve already got her hooked.” That stalls the frenzy whirling behind Robin’s eyes for a good five seconds. “What?” “She approached you in a bar, Rob,” Steve says, like it's obvious. Because it is. “That means you’re already on her radar.”  Robin doesn’t look convinced, but that’s because she can’t see the glances Chrissy keeps sneaking over her shoulder, the way her fingers twist together, the wrinkles she smooths from her shirt, the hair she tucks behind her ear, the shy smile she bites back.

wip weekend!

[awheelywheelygoodtime]

I spent two days writing this and I would like some recognition because I have no one else to share it with.

I would like to preface this by saying that the original film is my absolute favourite of all time. Surprisingly, I actually really liked the remake! It is not without it’s flaws, and I hope to rectify them because no one can fucking stop me and I have to do something to relax after my exam.

I always considered the franchise to be the closest thing that Disney has to true epic fantasy and the genre will serve as a source of inspiration for my amendments.

1. The Animation and Character Design:

I actually thought that the animation and character designs were brilliant. Lions are my favourite animal and I have been watching nature documentaries religiously since I was a child. The remake hit a perfect spot between realism and the aesthetics of the original characters. The landscape and such is a different matter, but I will get into that eventually.

My biggest gripe is one that is commonly shared by pretty much everyone that saw the film, the expressions or lack thereof. Real lions can squint, curl their lips, crease their brow and basically move their faces. You would be surprised by how expressive they can be.

Some people may say that it would anthropomorphise them too much and be unrealistic but we have a monarchy of talking lions, so who gives a fuck?

This is also a minor thing that only nature nuts would notice but the lions move wrong. They have this weird loping gait when they should run in what’s called a “rotary gallop” like real lions. The original film literally showed this in slow motion when Simba runs through the desert.

2. The Pridelands and Beyond:

The Pridelands need a lot of work. Everything is too beige and boring. It was as if they couldn’t decide between a golden arid savannah or a lush green one and just meshed the two into one boring mess.

Minas Tirith, Mordor and The Shire are all incredibly iconic and instantly recognisable. The same should be true for the Pridelands and the rest of the world.

Pride Rock should be an absolute monolith. A giant that looms in the background of every scene in the Pridelands and a believable capital for a kingdom (I’ll get more into this later). Not just tall but broad, a sprawling wild metropolis.

The Graveyard is an inhospitable hellhole. Always shrouded in shadow born from the ashes and noxious clouds spewed from geothermal activity. Thick clouds of mist and fog blanket the landscape, leaving bones and carcasses to loom out of the smog like giant teeth and claws.

The Gorge is a massive scar in the landscape. A Grand Canyon-esque pit that swallows light and just screams doom. The jungle that Simba winds up in needs to be more colourful and lively, a real paradise in the desert.

I think that a lot of the issues with the setting comes down to the fact that they acted as if they were on an actual set and not an animated world.

3. Ecology and Society

We need more wildlife.

More animals should have been at the presentation of Simba. Leopards and African Wild Dogs, Hippos and Crocodiles, even Gorillas and other jungle creatures should have been part of the montage of animals at the beginning. Migratory birds should have been present to bring the news back to their respective homelands (if Buckingham Palace can make international news then so can Pride Rock). Hyenas would also be part of the procession (this ties into something later).

Mufasa explaining the circle of life would include some scenes of various animals asking their king for counsel.

I would expand on the pride itself. It’s rare but some exceptionally large prides have subordinate males that can mate with the lionesses. This would avoid a lot of incestous connotations and make the pride more like a royal court (I have plans for Nala).

I would also change the wildebeest herd to a Cape buffalo herd. Cape buffalo are notorious lion killers and can live in herds up to a thousand strong. Shenzi and the gang send the calves first into the gorge and the rest of the herd would follow.

I would also pepper in references that Shenzi and her clan are mostly comprised of vagabonds, outcasts and exiles from other clans. The hyenas from the opening sequence would be some more positive examples. This may seem like “not all hyenas (tm)” but it’s better than them just being the Orcs of the savannah.

4. Characters and Characterisation

I’m not going to do everyone, just the characters that I have a firm grasp on what I would have done.

Scar: a vicious aristocrat. Really play up the gentlemanly aspects of his personality to contrast with an absolutely black heart. Like Palpatine his sole reason to live is the pursuit of power. All the brutality of Tywin Lannister with the underhanded slyness of Petyr Baelish. This makes him ambitious as hell but doesn’t translate to being a good ruler.

Shenzi: a calculated ruler that cares only for the betterment of her subjects. Queen of the Graveyard and willing to do anything to feed her clan of the lost and exiled. She and Scar were once genuine friends but now they are only using each other for their own gain.

Rafiki: kooky and mystic. They are basically Gandalf on mushrooms. Wielding a very subtle and ambiguous form of magic. I use gender neutral pronouns because I wouldn’t be opposed to making them female like in the broadway show.

Nala: a fierce huntress and the only hope for the pride during the reign of Scar. I would also make her a princess from another pride that has been betrothed to Simba. This gets rid of the incest questions and helps lay the groundwork for a sequel.

The Pride and the Subjects: I would place greater emphasis on the pride itself and the citizens of the Pridelands. Show the growing discord between the pride and the clan. The other animals are getting sick of Scar’s misrule and are either leaving or are in quiet revolt.

Mtumishi: a cape cobra and a new character. Zazu was major-domo for Mufasa, Shenzi serves the same role for Scar and Mtumishi serves his own royal. Mtumishi repeatedly visits the Pridelands under the orders of his queen, Zira. Zira rules Nala’s original pride and is a great figure of fear and conquest. She’s basically a family friendly lioness version of Vlad the Impaler.

I don’t really have anything of significance to say about everyone else. I would like to see more Sarabi but I’m happy with the other characters.

5. Plot and Story

I have already mentioned some additions that I would make in the previous sections but I’ll list a few more here. I would keep the same overall plot but with just some stuff added in.

We need to include the Hunt of the Lionesses from the broadway show. We don’t need to be too gory but I still think that it would be a brilliant addition to the film. It would give a greater emphasis to the lionesses and a short prayer after the hunt would reiterate the message of the Circle of Life.

I would expand on the meeting between Scar and the hyenas. Shenzi and her clan have just been humiliated by Mufasa. They have pushed their luck and now fear retaliation from the entire kingdom. Enter Scar with promises of food and security. He plays most of the clan like fiddles. Shenzi is wise to his schemes but doesn’t really have a choice. They have no idea no other allies and she is out options.

Scar would stop Zazu and the pride just before they got to the gorge. He would spin a few lies about no one needing to see the state of Mufasa and Simba. He would take care of everything and strongly encourage a heartbroken Sarabi to abdicate.

I would contrast Simba growing up in the jungle with Nala growing up in the Pridelands. Simba having fun with Timon and Pumbaa vs Nala cowering from a passing battalion of hyenas, Simba being desperately lonely as the only lion in the jungle vs Nala growing up in a tight knit community of older lionesses and other cubs, Simba battling leopards and other jungle hunters to protect Timon and Pumbaa vs Nala becoming a great huntress and protecting the smaller carnivores from competitive hyenas. Eventually, Sarabi and the rest of the pride scheme to send Nala to find help. The nearest pride belongs to Zira and that is a no-go. She must go further afield and eventually winds up in the jungle.

The conversation between Simba and Mufasa’s spirit is much more mystical. Rafiki leads Simba to the puddle in the thorns and his staring into the ripples of his reflection sucks him into an endless clearing beneath the night sky. He Lives in You starts crying as the stars come to land and form different animals. Not just African animals, but pretty much all of them. Bears, whales, jaguars, kangaroos, komodo Dragons, penguins and many more. This riot of life and light eventually leads to Mufasa himself. The vision ends with Simba back with Rafiki.

Mtumishi would be a reoccurring character relaying between the Pridelands and Zira. Scar’s growing madness and the disappearance of Nala bring his role to a climax when Scar sends him packing just before Simba returns. This is to help set up a possible sequel.

Everything else I would leave as-is or I need more time to figure it out.

What do you guys think?

[rocknrollsalad]

ISO Beta reader (Steddie)

BASIC INFO:

I have two fics. One basically finished but it’s over 200k. The other is a WIP.  They’re both sort of general audiences type things. No smut, no violence. Slow burn if you squint and very slow burn. Focused on the relationship

I am a very old person but a newish fic writer. The obsession hit hard here and I don’t know how I’m cranking out all these words but I’d just really like them to be the best they can be. 

SUMMARY: 

The untitled epic - Neither Steve nor Eddie are doing all that great after everything with the upside down and, yaknow, being eaten by demobats. They find each other and sort of jump head first into this whole thing. There’s road trips and slumber parties, rock shows and drive in movies. It’s sort of cute and it’s a lot messy. 

I Search For the Beat in This Dirty Town - kind-of-teacher!steve works at a school and is learning to live his best life. His friends live all over the place and he’s kind of alone, feeling like he’s treading water and not really an adult.  There’s a lot I have planned for this but it’s actively being published so I don’t want to lay it all out there (that feels silly to type but still)

PAIRINGS

In case you have some notps; 

Steddie, vickie x robin, jargyle, jancy, (whatever jonathan, nancy, and argyle is called), jopper, byler, lumax.  past buckingham, ronance, and jason carver x chrissy 

WHAT I'M HOPING FOR:

With the one fic being so huge and my brain still wanting to cram ideas into it, I’d like a big of help with the whole plot and story. There’s definitely grammar checks needed because me and grammarly only catch so much. and maybe a few questions about the whole big fic process. The occasional “help me pick between two totally reasonable options on something that has no impact” 

WHAT I CAN OFFER: 

I’m a great hype squad and will also help you out with your fics if you’d like. I’m shit at grammar though.

 Also I can send you memes and laughs. 

Please comment or send a message (i never know what to do with likes) but mostly, have a great day/night and thanks for reading 🥰

[magdasabs]

Magdasabs! I’m so sad to see that people are being straight up LOSERS and ruining your fun on this tumblr :( I also hope that me tagging my location at buckingham palace is not the map curse, but I think I only started that on map 2.0

in exchange of peace, may I offer you pictures of my parents cat (they claim they are fine being empty nesters) on its 1 year adoption (birthday idk?) anniversary. As you can probably see, if this is what my parents did for a cat, imagine what they do for their human children’s birthdays?

Lastly, I apologize for all the unnecessary punctuation and the general chaotic ness of this ask. We are celebrating my sister’s 21st birthday here in the good ole United States, which is a big deal, especially when your dad is a bartender (he will be fake squinting at my sisters ID like the joke will never get old),shall we all celebrate this weekend! Cheers! 😘🙌🪩

-🥃🍷🍸🥂🍹🍻

Omg look who made a tumblr!! You're already tumblr famous but I think people will be flooding your inbox in no time.

Thanks for your sweet words and have a great time in the US! Can't wait to hear the stories

OMG the cat I was NOT prepared. What a majestic creature!! Thank you