#sthings

[paxbe]

i think we need to start finding some new names team

updated version here (because y'all have pointed out that it's worse than i thought)

[skyjynxart]

#HarringroveWeek gave me the perfect excuse to finish this- I’m utterly in love with the idea of an AU where Billy is a selkie ( his mom was, too ). Billy has to tread a very careful line between bringing his coat with him to risky places like school, where it could so easily end up in someone else’s hands, versus leaving it at home, where it’s not uncommon for Neil to threaten to cut it up, ensuring Billy can never escape to the sea.

I like to think that somehow, it ends up in Steve’s hands and leads to happiness for both of them, but I haven’t really gotten that far with the ideas in my head.

I don’t know if I’ll have the time to make anything for the prompts, but I wanted to at least do something!

[polararts]

A sad Billy 

[billyhargroveappreciation]

I've been noticing an uptick of St*ddie and anti fics on the Harringrove AO3. A lot of them are using him as a plot device to 'ab*se' Steve. It's unacceptable.

What I think the authors of Harringrove should do, is add the tag 'Billy Hargrove Redemption' to their fics, so we can quickly find the actual fics that belong on the pairing tag.

Hopefully this all dies down soon and we can get back to fandom that doesn't act like half of them are still in high school.

[auroracalisto]

jealousy, jealousy

steve harrington x gn!reader, 530 words tw: trust issues, arguments, mentions of alcohol and parties a/n: trying out a new format, not sure how i feel about it yet

The moon had long since risen in the sky. Stars littered the vast darkness, trying to give some light to the situation it observed from afar. But even then, it seemed as if nothing could make it better.

“We’re not just friends, and you know it!”

The words left your lips before you could stop them. You had been doing that many times that evening—from the car, to the party, to now.

Were you jealous? Maybe you were jealous. But the way that woman clung to Steve made your skin crawl. It made your insides burn, boiling the alcohol that had once kept you at bay.

Steve stared at you, silence encapsulating the dirt street you stood on. Confusion etched his features, clinging to every crease in his skin as he frowned.

 “What—”

You held up a hand, stopping him from speaking. Tears burned your eyes as you took in a deep breath.

“I thought we were more. I thought we were more than friends, Steve,” you said. “And you just—you just stand there, letting some girl hang off of your arm like she’s arm candy!”

“Cherish? The chick who was throwing the party? Y/n—"

“—I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t think you’d ever be one to me.”

Steve clenched his jaw. What were you on about? You weren’t even giving him a minute to defend himself—to keep you from berating him because of a misunderstanding. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“We are not just friends,” he said. “But I would have thought you would have more faith in me than that.”

You paused, looking up at him.

“What?”

“Before you ran off. I was telling her that I was seeing someone,” he said. “Had you waited a minute, you would have seen me pushing her away. But, no, you ran. You ran, and I followed. Because we are not just friends, and I hate to think that you were about to get hurt. I hate to think that you can’t trust me.”

You frowned. Words caught in the back of your throat, but they made no attempt to come out.

“Steve…”

“No. No, I’m just… I’m going home. Do you need a ride? Nancy is back at the party. I can’t… I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Steve,” you said, panic striking you still. “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“—no, Y/n. Trust… trust is a two-way street, and you need to trust me at some point if this is going to work. I know you have issues. Everyone does. But that’s not… that’s not fair to me.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m going home. I’ll call you tomorrow. I just… need to get home.”

Steve left you there, reeling at your own mind. You knew you loved him—that much is true. But a part of you had yet to find trust; a part of you remained painfully alone in the corner of your mind, shouting orders left and right to never trust the one person you should be able to trust completely.

[daigina-3]

I’m sick rn so I’m just considering Max skating home in the rain because Billy no longer has a car and is no longer alive to give her hostile, tensely quiet rides to and from school, his angry rock music blaring. She can’t ask her mom to pick her up, she’s at work. So it starts raining and by the time she’s home she’s drenched- which is whatever until later the next day she starts feeling hot and a little shaky, like her limbs might give out and her brain is cloudy. Her thermometer reads 101.2*F and probably, she thinks, that’s bad. Mostly, she thinks, this sucks. She rifles through their cabinets and there’s no medicine and she’s so achey and just wants to pass out. She collapses on the couch only to hear a *knock knock* on the trailer’s front door. She groans, too tired to move and half delirious at this point, and rolls over.

“Red?” A voice calls. Another knock. “Hey , Red? Reddd?”

Jesus H. Christ, go away. She just wants to sleep. Another groan.

The knocks are full banging now, and she feels the irritation spill out of her suddenly- because what the *fuck*- she is trying to *sleep*?! She all but shouts out a groan, half way between a zombie moan and a “go away, asshole.”

Eddie opens the door and sticks his stupid head inside. She closes her eyes and tries to will him away but after a second his hand is on her forehead and he’s crouched on the floor next to her while she wastes away on the old worn-in sofa she wishes would swallow her whole.

“What the goddamn, you’re burning up! Where’s-“ he doesn’t finish the question because they both know the answer. At work. At the bar. Called to say ‘at work’ but the background chatter and cursing on the phone said ‘at the bar.’ Eddie’s no stranger to elusive parents.

Max has never been drunk but she bets this is what it feels like. Her head is fuzzy and on fire, she doesn’t feel like she has control over her own body- one minute she’s solid lead on the sofa and the next her arms are floating away from her, pushing Eddie’s dumb annoying hand off her her, flopping over her her eyes to block out the light.

All she can do is croak.

But then Eddie is moving her arm off of her face and she tries to struggle for a second until she feels the cold of a washcloth on her forehead and the weight of a blanket across her body.

“Alright, Sick-o, looks like the lighter I came to bum offa you will have to wait. God you look a ghost.”

She pulls the blanket tighter around her and then creeps open one eye to see Eddie lean over her and use his hands to tuck the blanket snug around her. Eddie Munson is fucking *tucking her in.*

And if she were thinking clearly she would push him off and call him a weirdo, a creep, a long-haired freak and kick the blanket back out because she doesn’t need anyone treating her like a baby But right now, she just feels her eyes watering up. The blanket is so warm and snug around her, the washcloth cool and refreshing. It feels good. Comfy, even.

Is this what it feels like, she thinks? What she could have had if she hadn’t- if Billy hadn’t- or had- she can’t even finish the thought, a warm tear escapes and she screws her eyes shut. Maybe she should just succumb to the heat and the fever and let it all take her away.

But then the TV flicks on in the corner- Eddie fiddling with it to get a good signal before collapsing on the spare bit of sofa at Max’s feet. He pats her leg and points, explaining about the latest episode of whatever stupid TV show she doesn’t care about.

And Eddie is so casual. The same causal way he helped old lady Lister up her porch steps two days ago or how Max spotted him giving his leftover cereal milk to the stray cats that hang around the trailer park. He just talks. like it’s natural. He gets up when she groans and comes back with a glass of water, like it’s an every day thing, to babysit the dumb sick kid who lives across from you. What, just because they saved the world together or whatever that makes them friends? Close?

Family?

“You know I drive the van to school I don’t know why you wouldn’t have just asked- you looked like a drowned rat by the time you rolled in, by the way.”

She groans.

“Listen, just because I’m so busy with my very successful and cool societal club-“

His dumb nerd game.

“And a lucrative business-“

Dealing pot to the other nerds at school.

“- doesn’t mean I can’t give you a lift sometimes. Y’know, Sinclair would have my hide if he knew I was letting you skate home in the rain like a sad little orphan.”

Her breathing pauses. That’s what she is, isn’t she? A sad little orphan? Sure her mom’s there but she’s usually not *there* and Max knows she’s trying her best and only fell off the wagon a couple times- and God, Lucas would think she was so pathetic if he saw her now. So stupid. Who wants to get back together with the local pity-case? Who can’t do anything on her own without falling apart, not even a little head cold.

“He’s been asking, y’know. About you. As if he thinks I, in all my glory and busy, busy life, have time to play matchmaker to the local freshman.”

If Eddie sees her crying, he doesn’t say anything. He knocks her ankle with his heavy-ring clad knuckles and she pushes her feet into his leg, like a pitiful excuse at trying to push him off the couch.

She doesn’t want to push him off the couch.

It’s quiet for a minute, Max’s feet all but halfway in Eddie’s lap as he watches the TV, occasionally tapping his knuckles against Max’s blanket-covered leg to a rhythm she doesn’t know.

Max opens her mouth, dry and weak, to speak. She doesn’t, at first, she just lays there with her mouth open, feeling the presence of Eddie at her feet, here. She closes her mouth, tries to swallow, and opens it again. She wants to say that she can’t believe Lucas would want to be around her, that Eddie would give up his night just to watch her, that Will’s twenty-third offer to play dungeons and dragons was genuine. That Dustin’s invite to dinner at his house was something she could accept. That El would need her when she’s not breaking up with Mike. That anyone needs her. That she deserves any of it. She’s drifting away again, but before she does, she speaks, slow and croaky.

“Next time it rains. I’ll find you.”

She can’t see it, but even with her half- floated away brain she can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice.

“That’s all I ask, Maxie.”

She falls asleep.

[nadhie]

"omg Robin and Nancy are just friends!! Not everything has to be a ship and gay!!!"

Ok but have you considered:

Shut the fuck up

[skulblaka]

steddie w/ partners in crime by finneas i’m gunna throw up

[jonny-versace]

Mike is getting so much shit online it’s so funny, people are really after that kid 💀

[babyy-honey]

stranger things 4 reminded me of this dumb playlist i made when i still worked in a record shop 

this playlist would slap harder if i had a mullet (but i don’t)

[paxbe]

i think we need to come up with some new names team

updated version of this post to fix the shameful omissions

[skyjynxart]

another forgotten sketch of my boy!! 

[robin-buckely]

ROBIN BUCKLEY + patches

STRANGER THINGS | 4.03 Chapter Three: The Monster and the Superhero

[daigina-3]

(Bringing this over from the discord chat because I don’t have time to write my fic and Trans Gareth is so special to me and I can’t stop thinking of him and eddie and how much they LOVE EACH OTHER… he is Eddie’s Robin)

Eddie’s giving him a lift to band practice, like usual. He gets his permit next month and then he can start shopping around for junky ten year old cars to buy with the money he saved up busting tables the summer after freshman year. But he’ll miss rides with Eddie- it’s kinda their thing.

Eddie’s got the windows rolled down because the AC crapped out again, WASP playing low and gritty on the radio as Eddie taps his fingers on the steering wheel, mimicking the lead guitar riffs.

In the passengers’ seat, he follows suit, his hands gently drumming the beat on his thighs. Under his jeans, any sign of leg hair on his outer thighs has disappeared, two big bald patches from years of whacking on them just like he is now; with drum sticks, hands, forks and spoons- anything he can get his hands on, he uses to drum on any surface available. He hates how smooth it is there, runs his fingers over it when he’s alone in his room and winces. But sometimes it’s nice how the moth patches make the leg hair stand out around it; makes the blond wisps more noticeable and that’s cool.

He’s been banging out beats since he was little and his mom was still trying to get the sticks out of his hands and replace them with hair brushes and pompoms. She’d call out his name til her throat was sore and rip the headphones off his head so he could actually hear her. He winced every time, but not from the ripping off the headphones.

He hated the sound of his name. He told his mom in sixth grade he wanted to go by his middle name because he liked it better- and that wasn’t a lie, it was better, and it was what his mom and even the guys called him to this day. But better wasn’t good. It wasn’t him.

Eddie rolls to a stop at a light. The WASP cassette reaches its end and he digs around on the ground where several other cassettes lay piled for something to replace it.

He tracks Eddie as he fishes out a Black Sabbath cassette, pops the case open and replaces the one in the car stereo one-handed. His tongue pokes out in concentration, eyes still on the road.

He brings it up casually, as though it’s something everyone talks about with their dude friends.

“So I was reading this book of, uh, baby names-“

Eddie’s eyes shift to him because, yeah that’s a lie. What kind of 15 year old just reads a book of baby names? But Eddie doesn’t call him on it.

“You ever thought about how every Kevin in the world is an asshole?” He starts with a joke, but this isn’t really why he brought it up. “Like not all assholes are Kevins, but all Kevins are assholes. Naming your baby Kevin’s like, guaranteeing he’s a dick.”

Eddie snorts and throws him a yeahh, long and drawn out.

He keeps going.

He casually asks Eddie what he thinks of the name Stanley. It’s his dad’s middle name, but Eddie doesn’t know that and he doesn’t add that bit in.

“Sounds like an old dude, lame.”

He thought so too, but wondered if Stanley would have made it easier on his dad. Not that he should have to make anything easy for- well, he knows it’s not the right name anyway.

He throws out others he’s tossed around in his head- Jonas, Isaac, Evan- Eddie shoots them all down, giving them raspberries and thumbs downs.

Then he hits on the name Gareth. Gareth is secretly his favorite name; the name he scribbles at the top of his notebooks sometimes and always the only one he doesn’t cross out when he makes lists. Dan Emerson, Scott Emerson, Gareth Emerson is always left untouched.

Eddie pauses. Tilts his head and sticks out his bottom lip in thought. The turn signal tick-ticks in the silence between them, Ozzy Osbourne left on pause. “Gareth’s a solid name for a guy. Gareth Holder’s a wild bassist. Rolls off the tongue nice.”

His chest inflates because exactly. This is why he and Eddie were as tight as they are, thats exactly what he has been thinking! Gareth Holder from Hells Belles os sick as hell and it just sounds so right.

And true to their mind meld connection thats over two years strong by now, Eddie looks at him and he knows that Eddie knows somethings up. Its more than opinions on baby names. He gives it a real, true weight when he pulls into Jeff’s drive way, pausing with his hand on the keys in the ignition, and says, “Gareth’s a real metal name, dude.”

The warmth in his chest could light a fire. He only smiles a little, still hesitant to show how excited he is, what that really means for him. Eddie doesn’t know, he hasn’t said anything yet. Not about his name or any of the rest of it.

So he doesn’t know but he thinks sometimes Eddie knows anyway; he notices every time Eddie doesn’t correct Reefer Rick when he calls him “brother” or the manager at the Hideout who calls him “son.”

He thinks Eddie knows in the way they are right now, comfortable when Eddie elbows his shoulder with a grin and hops out of the van.

Eddie, his best friend. His ride or die. He follows him to the back to grab the spare amp and guitars and knows, as they joke and scoff and smile, that it’s always gonna be them.

Eddie and Gareth.

[nadhie]

OH MY GOD STRANGER THINGS AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (spoilers ahead)

HOP!!! AND JOYCE!!!!!!!!!! HE WAS SO!!!!! HE COULDN'T BELIEVE HIS EYES!!!! AAHHH!!! I would watch a whole 9hs of just them lmao

AND WILL!!!! :(((( they disappeared from the final part p much, I wanted to see a bit more of Will and Mike, bc I'm hooked on that. Sprinkle some of these two on top of the 9hs of jopper

ALSO!!!! Robin and Nancy????? HELLO??? I am NOT on board of the Steve/Nancy thing once again bc it's been done and I find it so dull. But omg I forreal thought they were going to pair Ro and Nance based on, well, everything!! The whole crush on the band girl at the beginning, then just pairing up with Nancy out of convenience bc she couldn't drive, the whole 'fish out of water but then we bond'..... Missed opportunity imo. They better give Robin a kiss and smooches at some point bc i don't want another just out of screen easily cut same gender kiss, as if this were fucking Disney.

AND!! Sadie!!! She d e l i v e r e d. Dear Billy? She went all out on that ep. Love it, love it, love it.

Overall I loved this season! Better than the 3rd one, at least!

[jonny-versace]

Randomly started laughing at the time Steve got his ass beat by Jonathan of all people