#LOVE joyce's art style

[ralexsol]

It’s finished!! I’ve been working on the coloring & shading in this for the past couple days. I don’t often practice my shading, and I think it turned out okay!

It was really fun to pick out the colors for Tharaêl’s outfit (I couldn’t find a ref for him in regular clothes). I imagine that after he left the Rhalâta, he would try out colors opposite of purple to further himself from the cult. He still can’t bring himself to let go of the purple completely yet, though.

The lineart was done by @jilljoycearts! Thanks for letting people use it, I had a lot of fun with it! :)

[o-hora-o]

Oh, look, my Roman Empire-

[fuminu-chan]

[aglimmeroflightrefusingtofade]

☆ Will because WE NEED HAPPY WILL IN OUR LIVES!

WE DO! Buckle up!

When Will laughs really hard, his face turns red, and when he smiles super wide, he gets dimples. Mike loves both, and both end up with him grabbing Will's face and peppering it with kisses.

Will constantly wears a ton of bracelets - some gifts from Mike, others friendship bracelets, one's just rainbow - and he loves them all. He wears hairties on his left wrist, too, because he likes giving them away to his long-haired friends (and sister).

Will and Max are both disabled, and they hang out a lot. Their service dogs like to play with each other, and they frequently go to Will's favorite flower shop, their favorite coffee shop, the park, the mall, etc. Will tells Max what's going on around her (especially what stupid thing Mike's doing so she can properly make fun of him) and she holds his arm and lets him lead them around places, and she signs what she hears at Will when he takes out his hearing aids. She taught him to skateboard, and he learned a style of 3D painting so he could give her art. He also drew her D&D character in this style and made a Braille character sheet. (She cried.)

Will and Hopper get along great. They hang out regularly, Hopper attends the parent function thingamabobs, and they become close. They even come up with a scheme to sneak in a stray kitten and hide it from Joyce at one point - it lasts for less than an hour, but Joyce lets them keep the cat, so they're still happy. El names him Whiskers. Their real bonding moment came with music - Hopper was blasting Steely Dan, and Will came in and made him listen to Fleetwood Mqc, Queen, The Clash, and The Cure.

Mike joins a band, and he and Eddie cajole Will into learning an instrument. Will ends up trying bass and he fucking loves it. Eddie says he's a natural - it's in no small part because Will takes out his hearing aids when he's playing, and he just feels the vibrations of the notes and can tell what note it is just by vibration. He loves it, because music can sound weird through the hearing aid, and he's able to feel it playing bass. (He plays for Jonathan when he visits him at NYU.)

When the Party start 11th grade, they start school at a Montessori K-12 school, which they all do well in, especially Will. With a less structured school, minimal homework, disability aid, and shortened hours (8:30-3:00), he's able to get straight A's and pack his schedule, too. He has talk therapy on Tuesdays and Thursdays (3:15-4:30 PM) as well as physical therapy (5-5:30 PM), art club on Wednesdays (3-3:45 PM), science club on Mondays (3-4 PM), D&D on Saturdays, family pizza and movie nights every Friday, and volunteers at his synagogue on Sunday (a lot of the older ladies adore him). He works at a flowershop with El during the summers, and frequently goes to gay speakeasies and immerses himself in Deaf and LGBT+ culture (he starts to take out his hearing aids more the longer he spends with other Deaf people, as he learns sign language and starts to find his place without hearing) and makes a lot of gay friends.

Will gets a service dog. His name is Charlie, a rescued Burmese Mountain Dog, who adores Will. He takes a minute to warm up to the idea, but when he does, Will fucking loves that dog. I'm talking sneaks-him-extra-treats, that-dog-sleeps-in-Will's-bed-every-night, Mike's-cuddle-position-might-get-replaced loves. He's thrilled that Charlie gets to go with him everywhere after a bit, and with the dog around, Will's a much calmer, happier person.

Will becomes a lot less reserved as he gets more comfortable with himself, happily sassing people, flopping down in Mike and his friends' laps, signing more often, being less ashamed of his sexuality and scars and disability, becoming more comfortable with his body, wearing nice clothes, etc, etc, etc.

(Tried to think of enough to come to 11 😭 didn't work though)

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played HEARTS OF WULIN

By Lowell Francis and Joyce Ch'ng

Hearts of Wulin is a game of wuxia melodrama, Powered by the Apocalypse. Players take the role of skilled martial artists in a world of rival clans, conspiracies, and obligations. The game emulates films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Chinese wuxia TV series like The Smiling Proud Wanderer and Fox Volant of the Snowy Mountain, and Chinese martial arts novels from the second half of the twentieth century. In these tales, romance is as dangerous as a blade. Everyone has ties to factions, loves they can’t quite express, and secrets which will shake them to their core. As in the source material, stories in Hearts of Wulin are driven by the characters’ duties, romantic desires, and entanglements with other characters.

You get everything you need to play the game in three different styles: Core, Courtly, and Fantastic. The core game is as described above: a game of wuxia melodrama featuring wandering wulin warriors. The courtly style of play sets the game in a world of politics and factional scheming. The fantastic game adds strong elements of the superrnatural to the story. Each style of play has its own playbooks and moves—it's like having three games in one! 

[nicklloydnow]

““Dorothy reminds me in so many ways of Toni Morrison,” West said. “You know Toni Morrison is Catholic. Many people do not realize that she is one of the great Catholic writers. Like Flannery O’Connor, she has an incarnational conception of human existence. We Protestants are too individualistic. I think we need to learn from Catholics who are always centered on community.”

(…)

She viewed belief in God as “an intellectual experience that intensifies our perceptions and distances us from an egocentric and predatory life, from ignorance and from the limits of personal satisfactions”—and affirmed her Catholic identity. “I had a moment of crisis on the occasion of Vatican II,” she said. “At the time I had the impression that it was a superficial change, and I suffered greatly from the abolition of Latin, which I saw as the unifying and universal language of the Church.”

Morrison saw a problematic absence of authentic religion in modern art: “It’s not serious—it’s supermarket religion, a spiritual Disneyland of false fear and pleasure.” She lamented that religion is often parodied or simplified, as in “those pretentious bad films in which angels appear as dei ex machina, or of figurative artists who use religious iconography with the sole purpose of creating a scandal.” She admired the work of James Joyce, especially his earlier works, and had a particular affinity for Flannery O’Connor, “a great artist who hasn’t received the attention she deserves.”

What emerges from Morrison’s public discussions of faith is paradoxical Catholicism. Her conception of God is malleable, progressive, and esoteric. She retained a distinct nostalgia for Catholic ritual, and feels the “greatest respect” for those who practice the faith, even if she herself wavered. In a 2015 interview with NPR, Morrison said there was not a “structured” sense of religion in her life at the moment, but “I might be easily seduced to go back to church because I like the controversy as well as the beauty of this particular Pope Francis. He’s very interesting to me.”

Morrison’s Catholic faith—individual and communal, traditional and idiosyncratic—offers a theological structure for her worldview. Her Catholicism illuminates her fiction; in particular, her views of bodies, and the narrative power of stories. An artist, Morrison affirmed, “bears witness.” Her father’s ghost stories, her mother’s spiritual musicality, and her own youthful sense of attraction to Christianity’s “scriptures and its vagueness” led her to conclude it is “a theatrical religion. It says something particularly interesting to black people, and I think it’s part of why they were so available to it. It was the love things that were psychically very important. Nobody could have endured that life in constant rage.” Morrison said it is a sense of “transcending love” that makes “the New Testament . . . so pertinent to black literature—the lamb, the victim, the vulnerable one who does die but nevertheless lives.”

(…)

Morrison is describing a Catholic style of storytelling here, reflected in the various emotional notes of Mass. The religion calls for extremes: solemnity, joy, silence, and exhortation. Such a literary approach is audacious, confident, and necessary, considering Morrison’s broader goals. She rejected the term experimental, clarifying “I am simply trying to recreate something out of an old art form in my books—the something that defines what makes a book ‘black.’”

(…)

Morrison was both storyteller and archivist. Her commitment to history and tradition itself feels Catholic in orientation. She sought to “merge vernacular with the lyric, with the standard, and with the biblical, because it was part of the linguistic heritage of my family, moving up and down the scale, across it, in between it.” When a serious subject came up in family conversation, “it was highly sermonic, highly formalized, biblical in a sense, and easily so. They could move easily into the language of the King James Bible and then back to standard English, and then segue into language that we would call street.”

Language was play and performance; the pivots and turns were “an enhancement for me, not a restriction,” and showed her that “there was an enormous power” in such shifts. Morrison’s attention toward language is inherently religious; by talking about the change from Latin to English Mass as a regrettable shift, she invokes the sense that faith is both content and language; both story and medium.

From her first novel on forward, Morrison appeared intent on forcing us to look at embodied black pain with the full power of language. As a Catholic writer, she wanted us to see the body on the cross; to see its blood, its cuts, its sweat. That corporal sense defines her novel Beloved (1988), perhaps Morrison’s most ambitious, stirring work. “Black people never annihilate evil,” Morrison has said. “They don’t run it out of their neighborhoods, chop it up, or burn it up. They don’t have witch hangings. They accept it. It’s almost like a fourth dimension in their lives.”

(…)

Morrison has said that all of her writing is “about love or its absence.” There must always be one or the other—her characters do not live without ebullience or suffering. “Black women,” Morrison explained, “have held, have been given, you know, the cross. They don’t walk near it. They’re often on it. And they’ve borne that, I think, extremely well.” No character in Morrison’s canon lives the cross as much as Sethe, who even “got a tree on my back” from whipping. Scarred inside and out, she is the living embodiment of bearing witness.

(…)

Morrison’s Catholicism was one of the Passion: of scarred bodies, public execution, and private penance. When Morrison thought of “the infiniteness of time, I get lost in a mixture of dismay and excitement. I sense the order and harmony that suggest an intelligence, and I discover, with a slight shiver, that my own language becomes evangelical.” The more Morrison contemplates the grandness and complexity of life, the more her writing reverts to the Catholic storytelling methods that enthralled her as a child and cultivated her faith. This creates a powerful juxtaposition: a skilled novelist compelled to both abstraction and physicality in her stories. Catholicism, for Morrison, offers a language to connect these differences.

For Morrison, the traits of black language include the “rhythm of a familiar, hand-me-down dignity [that] is pulled along by an accretion of detail displayed in a meandering unremarkableness.” Syntax that is “highly aural” and “parabolic.” The language of Latin Mass—its grandeur, silences, communal participation, coupled with the congregation’s performative resurrection of an ancient tongue—offers a foundation for Morrison’s meticulous appreciation of language.

Her representations of faith—believers, doubters, preachers, heretics, and miracles—are powerful because of her evocative language, and also because she presents them without irony. She took religion seriously. She tended to be self-effacing when describing her own belief, and it feels like an action of humility. In a 2014 interview, she affirmed “I am a Catholic” while explaining her willingness to write with a certain, frank moral clarity in her fiction. Morrison was not being contradictory; she was speaking with nuance. She might have been lapsed in practice, but she was culturally—and therefore socially, morally—Catholic.

The same aesthetics that originally attracted Morrison to Catholicism are revealed in her fiction, despite her wavering of institutional adherence. Her radical approach to the body also makes her the greatest American Catholic writer about race. That one of the finest, most heralded American writers is Catholic—and yet not spoken about as such—demonstrates why the status of lapsed Catholic writers is so essential to understanding American fiction.

A faith charged with sensory detail, performance, and story, Catholicism seeps into these writers’ lives—making it impossible to gauge their moral senses without appreciating how they refract their Catholic pasts. The fiction of lapsed Catholic writers suggests a longing for spiritual meaning and a continued fascination with the language and feeling of faith, absent God or not: a profound struggle that illuminates their stories, and that speaks to their readers.”

[centrally-unplanned]

Extreme charm from this Nabokov list of "reviews" of authors:

Melville, Herman. Love him. One would like to have filmed him at breakfast, feeding a sardine to his cat.

Tumblr-post worthy, 10/10.

Faulkner, William. Dislike him. Writer of corncobby chronicles. To consider them masterpieces is an absurd delusion. A nonentity, means absolutely nothing to me.

He's just like me fr fr

Joyce, James. Great. A favorite between the ages of 20 and 40, and thereafter. Let people compare me to Joyce by all means, but my English is patball to Joyce's champion game. A genius. I. Ulysses. A divine work of art. Greatest masterpiece of 20th century prose. Towers above the rest of Joyce's writing. Noble originality, unique lucidity of thought and style. Molly's monologue is the weakest chapter in the book. Love it for its lucidity and precision. II. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Never liked it. A feeble and garrulous book. III. Finnegans Wake. A formless and dull mass of phony folklore, a cold pudding of a book. Conventional and drab, redeemed from utter insipidity only by infrequent snatches of heavenly intonations. Detest it. A cancerous growth of fancy word-tissue hardly redeems the dreadful joviality of the folklore and the easy, too easy, allegory. Indifferent to it, as to all regional literature written in dialect. A tragic failure and a frightful bore.

I never complemented a human like this before in my life, and I never could, I tremble in fear of this complement

Freud, Sigmund. A figure of fun. Loathe him. Vile deceit. Freudian interpretation of dreams is charlatanic, and satanic, nonsense.

He's just like me fr fr!!!

Anyway its a list of great takes, like Nabokov always delivers - though I like Sarte & Camus myself.

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 15

We are nearing the end, my lovelies. I have about one or two more parts to go (depending how far part 16 takes me) and then we’re done. Which makes me so sad. I love this story. It made me so happy. I don’t even know what sparked the idea.

I named it after a muse for three reasons. Steve becomes Eddie’s muse. Eddie becomes Steve’s muse. And my muse caught this story and refused to let go until I completed it.

Normally I have the next part completed before I put up a part (if I post part 8, I’ll have part 9 already done type thing), but I got a really bad migraine last night and didn’t finish part 16. I hope I’ll get it done today, but I’m not sure. So part 16 might not go up until late tomorrow or early Monday.

Also and this is important, lovelies: THE TAG LIST HAS OFFICIALLY REACHED MY LIMIT OF 50. ALL FUTURE REQUESTS FOR TAGS WILL BE IGNORED. Thank you!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14

*

Steve was working with Crystal who was by far the chillest dude he had ever worked with. Bar none. Steve was pretty damn sure that he was stoned most of the time.

But since it didn’t affect his work, Diamond looked the other way.

Crystal and Steve got into a rhythm that got them a lot of attention. Steve’s showy style of bartending mixed with Crystal’s flare created quite the show.

After a particularly complex set of maneuvers, Diamond came over to Steve and patted him on the shoulder.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Diamond asked, his voice rough with emotion. “You really are the heart of this team. You get along with everyone, you know how to put on a show, and you’re a great worker. I’d even triple your rate, man.”

Steve blushed. “As tempting as that sounds with that being more than I would make as a teacher...it’s what I want to do. I want to be that influence for good in teenagers that might not get that from anywhere else.”

Diamond gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re a good man, Garnet. Don’t let anybody change that.”

Steve grinned. “Thanks, Boss.” He ducked his head bashfully, scratching his cheek. “Besides it would be a disservice to my host teacher. He’s really put himself out on a limb for me.”

“You’re going to be a teacher, bro?” Crystal asked. “That’s pretty freaking amazing.”

“Art teacher,” Steve clarified.

“You draw, too?” Crystal murmured. “You’re going to do awesome!”

Steve just shook his head and got back to helping the next customer in line.

*

Steve and Eddie walked into class together bantering back and forth when Joyce came running to them both. She hugged them tight, one arm around each of them.

“I’m so glad you guys are safe!” she cried.

They hugged her back.

“I’m fine,” Eddie murmured. “Steve had my back.”

She pulled away and glared at Steve. “Jim said that you were trying to take on five boys with just your nail bat.”

Eddie mouthed ‘Jim?’

Steve mouthed back ‘Hopper.’

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“I was just stalling for time until Hop showed up with reinforcements,” he promised Joyce.

“I really wish you wouldn’t get into fights like that,” she admonished gently. “You know how much it scares Jim.”

Steve shook his head, holding up his hands placatingly. “I wasn’t fighting, honest. I was just stalling for time like I said. I tapped him twice on the back of his heavy letterman jacket as a warning and nothing else.”

Joyce’s face softened. “If you’re sure?”

“I can attest to the fact that Steve just danced around the guy and never engaged directly,” Eddie said, putting himself a little forward to place himself between Joyce and Steve.

She looked back and forth between them and sighed. “I’m glad everything turned out well then.”

As Steve and Eddie walked to take their places, Eddie said, “You are giving me the complete rundown of everything I did not understand in that conversation over coffee and you’re paying.”

Steve laughed. “Fair enough!”

*

“That was by far the most confusing conversation I have ever been in,” Eddie said after taking a sip of his black coffee. “And that includes the time my guidance counselor told me that after three times I was actually graduating from high school.”

Steve chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

Eddie laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, using his elbows to prop him up. “Why does Joyce Byers know the chief of police well enough to call him by what I am assuming his given name?” He batted his eyelashes at Steve.

Steve raised an eyebrow and took a long sip of his iced coffee. “Because they’ve been dating for years?” He gave a little half shrug.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “How the hell did I not know that?”

Steve pursed his lips and then licked them slowly. “They don’t like people to know usually. The only reason I know is because Hop was the FBI liaison after my attack and Joyce was acting as my parental advocate until I turned eighteen.”

“Huh.”

“Anything else you want to know?” Steve asked.

“You lied to me pretty boy,” Eddie began. “You said you couldn’t beat Nick if he chose to start a fight.”

Steve laughed. “I said a fist fight. I can’t even begin to tell you how many of those I’ve lost.”  

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “So then why did both Joyce and Hopper admonish you like you’d done this kind of shit before?”

Steve ducked his head to hide the flushing of his cheeks. “I’m not sure how much you remember about what I was saying to Jason and his gang. You were pretty terrified out of your mind.”

“Which part are we talking about?” Eddie asked. “You goading Jason for not being able to swing properly or before that?”

Steve laughed again. “Before that, when Robin threw me the bat?”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “Something about it being an anti-homophobe bat?”

“That’s the one,” Steve said with a grin. “I take it to Pride festivals and LGBTQ+ events to ward off assholes like Jason and his gang. Sometimes it takes more than just swinging it around to get them to back the fuck off.”

Eddie put his hands flat on the table. “How the hell have you not been arrested?!” He leaned forward into Steve’s space.

Steve pushed him playfully. “My notoriety and my relationship with Chief Hopper, if I’m honest. It’s the only time that’s ever worked out in my favor. But now I’ve got a reputation for taking on homophobes.”

“That is objectively the most hilarious thing I’ve heard,” Eddie said, sitting back down.

Steve grinned. “Yeah, I like to think of it as karma if I’m honest.”

“Steve Harrington, the avatar of vengeance, is that it?” Eddie asked, in all seriousness.

“I never intended to be,” Steve defended. “It just worked out that way.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie winked at him.

Steve looked down at the table and rubbed a finger along the surface. “Since we’re answering questions. Can you answer one for me?”

Eddie’s expression became guarded. “You want to know why Jason Carver was playing ‘hunt the freak’?”

Steve nodded. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Eddie reached across the table and lifted Steve’s chin. “It’s okay. I want to tell you. It’s just not my story to tell.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Chrissy.” It wasn’t even a question.

Eddie nodded. “He seems to labeling under the delusion that I turned her gay.”

Steve started laughing and couldn’t stop. Eddie tried to not join in, but one side-eyed look at him and he was busting up, too.

“God are all straights this stupid?” Steve asked when he was able to catch his breath.

Eddie grinned. “No, just too many of them.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said returning the grin.

*

Eddie noticed the dwindling number of students the closer they got to the last day of class. Soon it was down to Steve and a couple other students.

“Hey, Joyce,” he said, bounding up to her after class. He was waiting for Steve to finish cleaning up.

“Hey, Eddie!” she greeted cheerfully. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great,” he replied and then pursed his lips. “So I was wondering where all the other students have gone?”

Joyce frowned for a minute. “Oh! I guess I forgot to tell you. When the students finish their final they don’t have to keep coming to class.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh. So Steve hasn’t finished his final yet?”

Joyce giggled but quickly covered her mouth to stifle it. Eddie glared at her.

“No, sweetheart,” she said fighting to keep her smile in check. “He turned it last week.”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He stays because he wants to spend time with you.”

He turned to where Steve was cleaning his paint brushes and then back to her. “So what is he working on if not his final?”

She gave him a half shrug. “I would assume a personal project.”

Eddie hummed. “You don’t find it weird that he’s still painting me nude?”

“Why? Do you?” Joyce asked with a raised eyebrow.

He ducked his head and blushed. “I mean, it’s flattering. But at the same time...I don’t know. I feel seen I guess.”

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I can see that both of you are so smitten with each other, I don’t understand why you two aren’t together.”

Just then Steve came up and put his hand on Eddie’s lower back. “Hey, Eds. I’m done. You about ready to go?”

Eddie nodded and let him lead him away from Joyce as they both waved goodbye.

Once they were out on the pavement, Eddie asked. “So Joyce was telling me that you already finished your final.”

Steve grinned. “Yep! It’s going into the art show they have for all the graduating art students. You should totally come.”

“Does that mean that people are going to be staring at my naked ass all day?” Eddie teased.

Steve laughed. “Well there will be a 18+ area that little kiddies aren’t allowed to go into. But, yeah those that want to will be able to see you in all your naked glory.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, all right. I’ll be there. If only to see Karens clutching at their pearls at the mere thought of nudity near their precious children.”

Steve laughed again. “I can’t wait for you to see my painting.”

“I’m excited too,” Eddie agreed. “But you know I’ve got to ask...”

“Why I haven’t just not come to class like everyone else?” he asked and Eddie nodded. “I know it might come off a little creepy but I just liked spending time with you. And I know that you’re working hard on your music and trying to get a record deal and technically I could just meet you after class and go for coffee, but I just–”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s arms and said firmly. “Steve.”

Steve finally took a breath.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. “You were starting to spiral again. You need to take a breath, okay.”

Steve nodded and then ducked his head between his hunched shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to think I was being all creepy and gross about wanting to continue to paint you after my turned in my assignment.”

Eddie frowned, wondering where this was coming from. And then it hit him. The very first thing he had thrown at Steve that first day of class was that he had only taken it because he was there to leer at the model.

He gently cupped Steve’s cheek. “Oh, Stevie. I know you’re not like that. I’m flattered, okay?”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s touch. “Okay,” he breathed.

“I was only curious, no judgment.” Eddie pulled him in for a hug and Steve just melted into his embrace. “Come on, let’s go get that coffee, huh?”

Steve nodded and reluctantly let go. Only to be pleasantly surprised when Eddie slung his arm around his shoulder.

And if Steve leaned into it, that was no one’s business but his. And maybe Eddie’s, too.

Part 16  Part 17  Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

[strangerthingsreversebigbang]

In case you missed them, here are the next ten works posted from the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang!

---

If I Could Turn Back Time by @stevesbipanic | Art by @maikaartwork

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Wayne Munson, The Party

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary:

"Hide somewhere, somewhere you felt safe."

After the battle the party realises their fallen friend isn't so fallen after all, just a lot smaller.

Eddie likes these new people, especially the boy with the fluffy hair and a nice smile.

Together can they return Eddie to his original body and work through their pasts?

Here You Come Again by @cranberrymoons | Art by @glitterfang

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley's Parents, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Tommy Hagan

Summary:

Vaguely, over the sound of a bland pop song playing in the background, he hears the squeak of a pair of sneakers come to a halt at the other end of the aisle. He turns his head toward the sound… and promptly fumbles the tube of Pringles he’d been reaching for. He bats at it with his hand in a futile attempt at catching it, instead knocking it further toward the ground like a spiked volleyball.

He clears his throat.

“Um.” The tube rolls across the linoleum and comes to a stop at Tommy Hagan’s feet. Steve stares at it for a long, agonizing beat of silence, then he looks back up at Tommy’s face. “Sorry.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows, and Steve’s heart kicks in his chest.

Steve and Tommy haven't talked in nearly three years. After everything, maybe the best way forward is back.

Sneaking a Peak by @medusapelagia | Art (x, x) by @imfinereallyy

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington's Mother, Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things), Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington

Summary:

Steve Harrington's face has always been on the most well-known magazines' cover, but since he broke up with the famous actress Nancy Wheeler he has done his best to avoid the public eye. Or so he thinks... until a picture of him kissing a mysterious boy becomes viral.

---

“Steven, stop it, ok? I don’t have time to waste. I called to find out the name of the boy you were kissing last night.” His mom says, annoyed. Steve turns toward the mirror and finally sees what caught his attention before: on the lower side of his neck, barely hidden from his t-shirt, there is a big blue hickey. Fuck! “How… how do you know?” “You were at the New York Fashion Week afterparty, right? Well, you know how people are. They love to take pictures and share them on their socials, don’t they? And guess what? No one cares about the stupid boys that were drinking some fancy cocktail they don’t even know how to pronounce, but you were in their picture. You, and a black-haired boy, and either one of you was in need of some CPR or the two of you were kissing. Hard.”

What a Lucky Man He Was by @nnocres | Art by @artgroves

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper, Scott Clarke, Lonnie Byers (mentioned)

Relationship(s): Joyce Byers/Jim Hopper, Scott Clarke/Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers & Jim Hopper

Summary: When Lonnie leaves Joyce hanging for a ride at their senior prom, Jim is there to help.

Overnight Sensation by @ilovecupcakesandtea | Art by @pink-luna-moth

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley / Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Two different styles of music, two boys that really don't like each other. What could possibly go wrong?

More Than it at First Appears by @it-gets-worse-at-night | Art by @hereforanepilogue

Rating: Mature

Warning(s): Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Wayne Munson, Other(s)

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party

Summary:

Soulmates weren’t something that a lot of people put much faith in anymore. As a kid, everyone is excited to meet their soulmate, they grow up watching movies about finding your soulmate, but the older most people get, the more they realize that the system just isn’t perfect. People meet too young, or too late, or not at all. Sometimes the matches just don’t seem right. Steve, for his part, wanted to believe in soulmates. He wanted so badly to believe, but his parents were soulmates and their marriage was a sham. They didn’t love each other. In fact, most days, they honest to God hated one another. His father was a chronic cheater and his mother followed him around in an effort to salvage her dreams of a perfect marriage. In Steve’s opinion, if it hadn’t managed to work itself out in the 20 years that they’d been married, it probably wasn’t going to. So, as much as Steve wanted to believe in them, he hadn’t tethered himself to the idea of eventually meeting his own soulmate. He’d dated plenty, fucked around, flirted. He’d even fallen in love, though that relationship had blown up in his face. This simple fact though, made the orange blooming over Robin’s neck that much more surprising.

Second Chances Mixtape by @medusapelagia | Art (x, x) by @maikaartwork

Rating: Mature

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, The Party (Stranger Things), Nancy Wheeler, Argyle (Stranger Things), Jonathan Byers, Henry Creel | One | Vecna, Original Characters, Wayne Munson, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Terry Ives, Martin Brenner, Becky Ives, Scott Clarke

Relationship(s):Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary:

It's 1986 and the plan to kill Vecna was a disaster: Vecna escaped, Hawkins was devasted by an earthquake and Eddie Munson is dead. Or so they presume.

---

“The cassette player broke.” Lucas whispers after hours of silence. “I couldn’t�� I couldn’t help her. I was right there, but I couldn’t help her.” Steve holds him tighter, he has no words of comfort for him and he knows exactly how he feels. How hard is he judging himself, how he is playing the entire movie of the night in his head trying to find the point in time where he could have fixed everything. Steve knows all of that because he and Lucas are so similar and he is doing the very same thing, thinking about Eddie. Only…. Only Steve has another thought that doesn’t let him breathe: did he really hate him? Steve can’t deny that he was jealous of Dustin’s new cool friend but… did he let them risk their lives because he was jealous?

Made of Brick & Stone | Built On Laughter by @maxinemaxmayfield | Art by @doomcheese

Rating: General

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary:

It all starts with a raccoon. Well, that depends where you want to start from, really. But this particular part of their life, this starts with a raccoon.

In which Steve and Eddie rescue critters, renovate a farm, and love each other through it all.

Let's Bring This Idiot Home by @ilovecupcakesandtea | Art by @kokoshka67

Rating: Mature

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie's dead, or is he? What happens when a dead friend isn't actually as dead as everyone thought they were.

(Don't) Hold Your Breath by @ukulilyjane | Art by @glitterfang

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Carol Perkins, Nancy Wheeler, Barb Holland

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Tommy Hagan

Summary:

When Steve opens the door, on the doorstep stands Tommy, chewing on the inside of his cheek, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts, backlit by the orange glow of the early evening sun.

Tommy who Steve hasn’t properly spoken to in almost half a year.

Just Tommy. No ‘and Carol’. No other half.

---

Stay tuned for more incredible works from the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang!

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[ch3rrymlkshak3]

reality shifting - my realities a post ~ shiftingblr

KPOP DR (MAIN DR) 🎀

face claim ⇢ aespa’s karina

basic info:

name - Xenia

age - 23 (12.25.00)

- vocalist, leader, & rapper

- she/her

-best friends with joy, yunjin, jennie, miyeon & sakura🫶🏻

EVERLAST is a five member South Korean girl group formed underJYP Entertainment. The group consists of: Xenia, Chaewon, Yeji, Wonyoung and Winter. EVERLAST is well known for their fearless style and theme of self love & self confidence. They debuted on 8.1.16 with their single ‘Touch’.

HOGWARTS DR 🪄

face claim ╰┈➤ cassie from skins

~ name — sloan

~ 16 years old

~ hufflepuff

~ witch

~ cottagecore aesthetic

~ animal whisperer

~ year 5 | she/her

~ S/O Ron Weasley <3

~ classes :

astronomy

herbology

defense against the dark arts

potions class

divination + tarot

quidditch

𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖉𝖗🧇

face claim ⤻ nat scatorccio from yellowjackets

• name - marceline

• 17 years old

• parents : hopper & joyce

• siblings : el, jonathon & will

• friends : max, dustin, eddie, & robin

• fun facts: works at scoops ahoy, Steve’s gf :3 , can play the guitar

[goldenslumbersketchbook]

Hey do you ever wish that Dreamwork were able to make a sequel of Rise Of The Guardians?

Thank you kindly for your message!

Personally I wouldn’t want a sequel, but instead a prequel or a complete series that dives into each characters past and how they became guardians. A sequel would be cool but I do adore the lore of the worlds and the books so I feel like a sequel wouldn’t have enough time to touch upon everyone’s stories.

(Hopefully keeping Peter Ramsey as the director and a fairy high budget)

Oh I loved the shorts for the furious five that Dreamworks released for Kung fu panda so I would love that so much with the Guardians, there is so much lore to play with for these characters it would be cool to see everyone gets an episode as the spotlight character. I can see it being super artistic and each episode being done in a different art style depending on the character we follow.

Haha. Honestly I will take any crumbs William Joyce or Dreamworks gives me. (forever fueling my doodles and bringing a sense of wonder)

[bbg100]

I rly love when people try the disco Elysium portrait art style because it's so iconic and also, near impossible for self taught artists to replicate, so trying it is rly an interesting insight into the artists understanding of color and detail

Like, this is the portrait for Joyce. If you're casually looking, you will miss some key style choices. Like ...her face is literally the same green as her coat, just less layered. This works because of the contrast of blue behind her makes the green look more beige. Also, her scarf appears to be made out of silk- a detail that only exists because her coat is outlined in these pastel textured lines, while her scarf has thinner, pencil like lines. The scarf is also iconic because it is once again using the face green, but as a midway shade between the white of the highest highlights and the pink of the scarfs color.

Also, look at her eyes. Digital artists tend to draw the whole eye- so her distinct lack of a single 'eye' like around the whole eye is notable. Instead, the under eye area is colored darker and given a single line on the less lit side. There's also a shadow right under her lips, something not commonly drawn in digital art even though it's common in painting and portraits.

I think it's easy to forget that digital art very much is an Art style at this point, and seeing people who only draw digital art switch to what is more similar to a oil pastel style is very interesting

[grandhotelabyss]

In an old interview with Tyler Cowen, Knausgaard called Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius the greatest story ever written—a sentiment with which Cowen agreed. (Cowen seems to read everything, but there's something about an economist—an orthodox heterodox economist, no less!—making pronouncements on literature that makes me suspicious of the claim. Then again, he once wrote, "Shakespeare is very likely the deepest thinker the human race has produced." No argument there.)

Personally, I might bestow the honour on The Dead, but it's really more of a novella, and I'm admittedly quite the Deadhead. (To be clear, in the high arts a "Deadhead" is the moniker we attribute to readers obsessed with the poetic intensities of swift cessations: Death in Venice, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, the deaths of Sula, Septimus, Billy Budd, and Pierce Inverarity, etc. Indeed, poetic intensities and swift cessations may simply be the novella tout court. On the subject of jam bands—and cheese—I remain mysteriously silent.)

Might Joyce have authored the greatest story, the greatest novel, and the greatest love letters? (Forgive me, sweet Jane, for such futile superlatives against your soul-stirring pen. I am half agony, half cope.) I suppose Borges is more Beethovenian in his revolutionizing of the form, whereas Joyce aimed for a Bach-like perfection as it existed at the time.

Of course, one mustn't forget the dozen or so contenders from Poe, Kafka, and Chekhov, not to mention The Lottery and A Good Man is Hard to Find. What do you think? As always, thank you for your splendid insights! And to the anonymous hundreds reading this, or, at this point in my unsolicited soliloquy, the anonymous dozen skimming, please subscribe to John's serialized novel!

Thank you, David! Yes, I find Cowen dispiritingly, exhaustingly, demoralizingly well-read. Someone I admire on Substack recently gave a list of 10 pieces of advice for undergraduates, and I liked nine of them, but I didn't like the first: everything, he said, is interesting. But everything is not interesting. The undergraduate, the veritable ephebe, is right to be bored by some things. If I found everything interesting, who would I be? I almost cultivate my non-interests. With so many books I do want to read in the world, it's a relief to know there are also many books (books about economics, for example) that I do not want to read. Really, only obsessions matter. The personality, to be a personality, must have its limits, as must the work of art, even if as a novelist, I do aspire in my own way to the "everything and nothing" Borges imputed to Shakespeare, or to the Homeric as against the Virgilian in Mark Van Doren's line that Virgil is a style, Homer a world. Only Borges could be Homeric in a short story, though; for the rest of us—yes, even for Joyce—it takes a novel. A fellow Deadhead, I agree with you that that is a novella in the death-obsessed ranks of the great novellas. I add Heart of Darkness, The Metamorphosis, and Nella Larsen's Quicksand to your fine catalogue.

(Incidentally, when I was in college, a friend dragged me to see a jam band called The String Cheese Incident. They played a theater on the ground floor of Soldiers and Sailors Hall on the University of Pittsburgh campus, upstairs of which the great Gothic scene of Lecter's escape in Silence of the Lambs had been filmed a little less than a decade before. Jam bands don't do it for me; I was heavy bored at that concert, I have to tell you; Chesterton's neglected cheese be damned, poets have their right to silence on some subjects—because, again, everything is not interesting.)

Now to your question. When I think of great short stories, I do not, like George Saunders, think of 19th-century Russians. (19th-century Russians are better at length, when they go on and on and on—even, if you ask me, Chekhov, as I said earlier this year in praise of his novella, The Duel, a great novella not quite belonging to your catalogue inasmuch as it defeats death, more or less.) No, I think of 19th-century Americans. I think of "Ligeia" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "The Man of the Crowd," and I think of "Bartleby, the Scrivener" and "The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids" and "Benito Cereno," and I think of "The Author of Beltraffio" and "The Middle Years" and "The Figure in the Carpet." Above all, I think of Hawthorne, of "Young Goodman Brown" and "The Minister's Black Veil" and "Ethan Brand" and "Wakefield" and "The May-Pole of Merry Mount" and "The Artist of the Beautiful" and "The Birth-Mark" and (my favorite) "Rappaccini's Daughter." A great deal of Borges is already in those stories, these tales or parables or half-allegories—I do agree with both Knausgaard and Cowen that Borges's "Tlön," or maybe "The Aleph," must be the paradigm of the modern story—and a great deal of Kafka, Jackson, and O'Connor, too.

Honorable mention: I am not an expert on the 19th-century French, but "The Unknown Masterpiece" by Balzac is a new favorite, which I read for the first time just this year. A good tale in its own right, but to have anticipated, almost to the point of clairvoyance, the whole future course of art in one short story from the 1830s—!

Caveat: "Rappaccini's Daughter" has 3000 fewer words than The Dead; and "Benito Cereno" is double the length of "Rappaccini's Daughter." Why type some titles in italics and some in quotation marks? The distinction between novella and story must be qualitative rather than quantitative, with the distinction not quite only about death, since all three narratives at least include if they do not dwell upon swift cessations. "Rappaccini's Daughter" and "Benito Cereno" seem to me to be stories because they are about one thing, as opposed to The Dead, which, like The Scarlet Letter, is about several things—and as opposed, of course, to Moby-Dick and to Ulysses, which are, Aleph-wise, about absolutely everything ("[A]ny man unaccustomed to such sights, to have looked over her side that night, would have almost thought the whole round sea was one huge cheese, and those sharks the maggots in it"; "Cheese digests all but itself. Mity cheese"), and make everything as interesting as ever everything can be.

[bettinalevyisdetermined]

Hello! I have some Joyce fanart to share, made in the Ben 10: Omniverse/Transformers Animated/general Derrick J. Wyatt (R.I.P.) art style, using an incidental background character from B10OV as reference.

Hope you like it!

Ooooh! I do very much like it! :D Love the outfit you gave her! Thank you!

[beautifulbizarremagazine]

“Keep calm & get ready to pray.” An all-time favourite from the house of @joyceartworks. Joyce explains in her statement that she “prefers to work with watercolours and pencils, and she enjoys exploring the humanistic (and sometimes humorous!) aspects of love and sexuality through the symbolism of the human body itself.” — #beautifulbizarre #joycelee #painting #art #pray #artist #contemporaryart #popsurrealism #contemporarypainting #lowbrowart #love #style #newcontemporary https://www.instagram.com/p/CqFFs9ohagQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[cuepickle]

HI HI HI HI I absolutely love your art style, could you draw a lil something of Joyce? 🥺💖

YES ABSOLUTELY thank you so much 💖🥰