a concept from me and @mephestopheles wanting bizarre versions of trans experiences.
The Harrington's move them to Hawkins when Stevie is like, 9 or 10. They're rarely ever home, so, it only takes a tiny bit of work and one helpful nanny for Stephen Harrington to tweak the records, and get to live as Stephanie, Stevie, Harrington. She only has to act like a boy a few days a year, and keeps her hair longish, but not so long she can't play if off when they come home.
Everyone in school thinks she's a bit of a tomboy, but she takes choir to get better control of her voice. Stays in sports because she loves sports, still rules the school bc she can have parties whenever, still has her slut era, but is known for being... generous with lovers, which keeps anyone from noticing.
This means she meets Robin in soccer, and it doesn't stop Stevie being a mean girl and super popular, and kinda bitchy, but its good for her anyway.
How does this intersect with canon? unknown.
How does this eventually become a plot? shrug emoji.
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"You can't be a lurker on tumblr." Yes, you absolutely can. I've been quietly reblogging things since 2014 and I haven't interacted with anyone in years.
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listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.
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So we had a statement? A statement from the Magnus Institute? Regarding an artifact? An artifact that was brought to be placed in some sort of… artifact storage? Artifact storage where one particular archival assistant used to work? Anyway here’s how Sasha James can still win—
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You know, Brennan Lee Mulligan talks a lot of shit about the cruelty of Game Changer, but I’m not sure Sam Reich has ever done as much violence to his players as Brennan did when he handed out those irl exam question packets with sand timers, like that was real ptsd in their eyes
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so rhaenyra starts s3 with a god complex, believing herself to be the prince that was promised from aegon the conqueror's dream... but hugh and ulf will betray her, mysaria will misunderstand her, coryls will undermine her, bartimos will underestimate her, daemon will abandon her, her people will turn against her and burn her castle and kill her dragon. and when everyone who accepted rhaenyra as queen rejects her, the only person left to love rhaenyra will be alicent, who never loved rhaenyra as queen but rhaenyra as a person ("she was the vision that sustained him [...] it was his love for her that kept him resolute in his choice of heir."). alicent, who abandoned her gods and duty to go to rhaenyra on dragonstone and appeal to the person beneath the crown ("i cast myself on the mercy of a friend who once loved me."). alicent, who's made a god of rhaenyra, not as queen, but as the girl she read with beneath the godswood ("come with me.").
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*Rook, Vil, and Epel walking down the hall*
Rook: Would you two spare me a moment? I need to make a proposal to Trickster.
Vil/Epel: Sure.
Rook: Bonjour, Trickster!! May I offer you a proposal?
Yuu: What's uuuuu--...
Yuu: Why are you on one knee.
Yuu: WHY ARE YOU ON ONE KNEE---
Epel: huh. So that's what he needed a ring for.
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Imagine going to an Italian restaurant with Beelzebub in the human world, and the waiter makes the simple yet horrifying mistake of asking if he wants cheese on top of his dish.
Beelzebub is like, "yeah." And so it begins.
When there's a sufficient amount of cheese on top of the pasta, the waiter says, "Just let me know when to stop."
Beelzebub nods his head. The waiter keeps going. There's a small hill of grated cheese. The waiter looks expectantly at Beelzebub, who is staring happily at his cheese-covered dish. They keep going. The waiter's arm hurts. You can't see the pasta anymore under all the cheese.
"Is this enough?"
"Keep going." Beelzebub says this casually. The waiter is terrified. This massive muscled man looks like he could crush somebody's head like a grape. Someone with such an intense aura is not a person to be crossed. If the waiter later found out they were serving a demon, they wouldn't be surprised.
Minutes feel like hours. The pasta is probably cold. They finally reach the end of the cheese. Just a small block remains, too little to safely grate. With cramped fingers and a sigh of relief the waiter drops it on top of Beelzebub's cheese mountain. Out of pure habit they ask, "Is there anything else I can get for you?"
Beelzebub asks, "Do you have any more cheese?"
Oh. Please, no. The waiter puts on their best customer service smile to hide the pain. "We're fresh out."
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