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eddiethebanished · 5 months ago

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It’s Only Fair

leadsinger!reader

Summary- Eddie’s working as a bouncer at The Hideout on ladies night, watches your band play.

Warnings- I’m not really sure if there are any? Please let me know if there are so I can learn.

Eddie had never seen so many women, especially at The Hideout of all places. By the time he got to work there was a line wrapped around the building.

He had been working at The Hideout as a bouncer for a few weeks, in exchange his band would be able to play more gigs at a reduced fee. But he had yet to work a Wednesday night,

which as it turns out was ladies night. Reduced price on drinks and girl bands gracing the stage.

With a groan Eddie pushed open the door to let the ladies in at 7pm sharp. A few had already been getting rowdy, banging on the door begging for early entry. From then on it was the same monotonous movements. Check ID, take the cover charge, nod his head toward the door signaling admission. Ignoring the giggles and flirtatious batting of eyelashes from some of the patrons, Eddie could tell by the sea of bright neon color dresses he most likely wouldn’t be hearing his preferred type of music tonight.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, surprised to see the shaggy brown haired boy standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s ladies night, Munson. Plus, Robins band is playing tonight and their singer is like a total babe.”

Eddie chuckled and patted steve on the shoulder as he walked through the door. After what felt like eternity of checking IDs, taking the cover charge, and nodding his head towards the entrance, the line ended, save for a few stragglers here and there.

The first band took the stage with big teased hair full of aqua net, they wore matching jazzercise outfits and played the most headache inducing pop music that would even have Cyndi Lauper nauseous. Eddie made his way to the bar in hopes David the bartender could make him something to ease the pain of the night.

“Want your regular, Ed?” David asked while wiping down the bar.

“Sure, better make it a double” he said over the sound of the bands pitchy singer.

“Never worked a ladies night before huh?” Eddie shook his head, David continued “It’s not that bad, sure the music isn’t great but there’s rarely any fights to break up, and I make a killing in tips!” Eddie nodded and slid a five over to David before he was called into a sea of girls ordering shots and half priced cocktails. Eddie took up residence at a table near the door where a bold Steve Harrington was striking out with every girl he flirted with.

The second band who took the stage was just fine, the third band came on late, drunk, and ended with the bassist barfing on the drummers cymbals. After a brief intermission to clean the stage, the lights dimmed. People scrambled from their barstools and dark corners to the middle of the room. Shouts and whoops erupted as the band took the stage.

“This is Robin’s band.” Steve said sitting up in his seat and nudging Eddie. One by one the band members stepped up on stage, Robin with her drumsticks gave a silly wave towards Eddie and Steve, the latter of which shouted out a “Woo!” The bassist arrived next blowing a kiss towards the audience, followed by the guitarist. They each had their own unique style that worked together, it showed cohesiveness without needing matching jazzercise outfits.

When the lead singer got on stage the crowd went wild, eddies eyes widened. Black oversized t-shirt with black shorts you could barely see, fishnets and doc martens. Eddie shifted in his seat to get a better look.

“That’s y/n.” Steve said looking at Eddie with a knowing smirk.

“Alright Hawkins how are we doing tonight?!” You said into the microphone. The crowd responded with cheers and applause as you started your first song. It was a cover of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division. By the end of the first chorus Eddie was enamored.

When the song ended, you grabbed your placid blue fender strat and slipped the strap over your head. Eddie wasn’t enamored- he was in love.

“Watch it, Munson. You’re drooling.” Steve said.

“Shut up, Harrington.” He said flatly.

“This one-” you started while plucking a few strings, “is dedicated to all the shitty guys in Hawkins that broke our hearts!” Jumping into an original song about dancing with the devil and having your girlhood stolen, Eddie realized why all these people were at this shitty bar. They were here to see you.

When your set ended, Steve nodded his head to go over to the stage with him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to your future wife.” He added a wink and chuckled to himself. Eddie downed the rest of his drink and followed after Steve.

“Hey look, Steve, you really don’t need to-“ He was cut off.

“Oh come on, have some fun.” Steve said walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys!” Robin beamed “What did you think of our set? We’ve been rehearsing like crazy and I really think it paid off!” Robin rambled clutching her drumsticks.

“It was great, Robin-“ Steve began, he put his arm on her shoulder and said in a lower tone “where’s y/n? I think our boy Eddie here might want to meet her.” He grinned.

“Oh! She’s putting her stuff in the van, I’ll go get her!” Before Eddie could object, Robin bounced out of the propped open side door where he could see the band members putting equipment in the trunk. Robin returned shortly arm in arm with the lead singer, the girl of Eddie’s dreams.

“Steve, you know y/n.” Robin said, a grin plastered to her face. Steve nodded his head toward you. “This is our friend Eddie.” Robin said with a gentle push on your back towards where Eddie was standing.

“Hi.” Eddie said, with his signature smile, a little dimple forming on his cheek.

“Hey, I know you, you work here right?” You responded after taking a sip from your water. Eddie opened his mouth to respond when-

“Yeah Eddie is the bouncer, he’s also in this band that plays here Tuesday nights.” Robin answered for Eddie.

“Here, Robin I’ll help you with your drums okay?” Steve said raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards Eddie. As they walked away Steve turned back and gave Eddie a thumbs up.

“What kind of music do you play?” You asked stepping closer to the curly haired boy.

“Uhh Metal, mostly. I’m also frontman and play guitar.” He responded nervously, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. You rocked back and forth on your heels and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

“I’ll have to come check you guys out, it’s only fair after you seeing us play.”

“Fair- right I have to warn you though, it’s nothing like tonight,” Eddie started looking around at the crowd still lingering after your set. “We get about five drunk guys at the bar and that’s it.” He chuckled.

“Well I can guarantee there will be one more person at your next show.” You smiled sweetly, Eddie’s eyes couldn’t help dart to your lips, they looked so soft with a lingering shine from the gloss that must have worn off while you were singing. Realizing he was staring for a beat too long he cleared his throat and looked toward the open door. “So do you need help carrying anything out?”

“No, I’m all packed up but thank you.” You responded politely.

“In that case,” Eddie’s voice deepened as he inched closer to you. “can I buy you a drink?”

A blush crept across your cheeks as you nodded silently. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bar where two stools had just become available.

David walked over to you two slinging a rag over his shoulder. “Hey rockstars, what can I get for you?” You both gave him your drink orders and faced each other on the stools.

“Okay, musician to musician, what did you think of the set?” You asked biting your lip nervously.

“Honestly, I was surprised.” He said, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Surprised we didn’t play covers of Madonna or Bananarama?” You asked while smiling into your drink.

“You could have sang anything and it would have sounded amazing.” He started. “When I came in today I couldn’t believe how many people were lined up to get into The Hideout of all places. But when I saw you up there, it all clicked”

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh stop, they’re here for the half priced drinks, that’s all.” You said self-deprecatingly.

“Hey, all those people stayed after that bassist puked all over the drums.” you both laughed together. “You were a natural up there.” Eddie’s eyes met yours, still with a smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You said while holding his gaze.

“Hey y/n, sorry” Robin bounced up to you both, “My curfew on school nights is 11 and it is now-“ she looked at her watch. “12:30, and you drove so do you think we could…” she trailed off.

“Yes! Shit, Robin, I’m sorry.” You reached for your pocket pulling out a few stray dollar bills, about to place them on the bar. Eddie quickly shook his head.

“Nope, it’s on me. Employee discount.” He said with a wink.

“Aw, thank you, I’ll make sure I buy your drink when I come see your show.” You said putting the money back in the pocket of your shorts while standing up from the barstool.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Come on, fair is fair!” You giggled and leaned close to his ear. “I’ll see you Tuesday.” You whispered softly before Robin pulled you away.

Eddie could get used to working ladies night.

#eddie munson #eddiemunson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fandom #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #robin buckley #steve harrington

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drvirgus · 5 months ago

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Mute!

Non-Idol! Hanni X Mute! Reader

Description: Life as a mute girl in university: How does Y/n navigate her life, especially when she has to work on a project with her crush, one of the popular kids on campus? Can Y/n find a way to express her feelings?

Warnings: Trauma; strong language; kys/kms jokes; insults; bad family 😔 (kind of abuse?)

Chapter: Double Date (fully-written)

Masterlist

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With a smile on my face, I stood down the street, waiting patiently for Hanni, who was just parking the car in front of me and hastily getting out. She almost stumbled over her own feet but fortunately caught herself on the hood. A laugh escaped her throat as she looked at me to check if I had seen it.

I immediately turned my head away from her so it wouldn't be too embarrassing for her. "I know you saw it," I heard Hanni say. "Look at me. I want you to look at me," she said with a smile, so I turned my head back to her. Her smile grew wider. "Hey," she said softly, which made my smile even broader. My cheeks even turned a little red.

Hanni chuckled. "Shall we?" she asked as she opened the passenger door of her car for me. She had to pull a bit harder since the door seemed difficult to open. No wonder... the car didn't look particularly safe.

Hanni laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I should have taken Minji's car instead, right? Wait here. I'll quickly drive to Minji and switch—," Hanni said, overwhelmed, as she tried to close the passenger door again. But I held her by the forearm and simply shook my head with a smile.

Her eyes widened as she watched me get into her car. Hanni visibly swallowed, and the redness on her cheeks was unmistakable. But, well... love made one blind... that's probably why I didn't notice it.

With a clearing of her throat, Hanni closed the door and moved behind the driver's side, buckling up immediately. Before she even started the engine, she checked if I was buckled up. "Here. You can play some music. But not too loud, otherwise there will be some interference from the speakers," Hanni said, and I nodded in understanding.

Hanni was probably a bit embarrassed, but it didn't bother me at all. After all, the thing drove. The main purpose was fulfilled, and I didn't need anything more. Now, I stared at my music and glanced at Hanni before looking back at my music. What could she possibly like?

I then played one of the songs that became famous in 2024. Hanni's eyebrows raised as she briefly looked at me and then back at the road. "Play what you like," Hanni said with a smile as she briefly placed her hand on my knee.

So, I played one of my songs, "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. I immediately relaxed in the car and let the music play. Hanni chuckled. "Oh. This song was also on Yuna's MP3 player," Hanni said, a bit surprised, as she glanced at me.

I immediately shook my head and pointed at myself. Hanni furrowed her brow until the penny dropped. "Oh. That was yours?" she asked, which made me nod. Hanni smiled right away as she kept looking at the road, of course, to avoid an accident. "I like your music," she said a bit quieter, applying a bit more pressure on my knee.

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With my hand on Hanni's back, I gestured for her to go ahead of me, which she did immediately. I still had my tablet in hand as I followed Hanni and the waitress to our reserved table. Felix and Hyunjin were not yet present, which made me roll my eyes.

I hated it when others were late...

Hanni sat right next to me since the two seats across from us were free, where the gay couple would sit. I immediately opened my tablet and took my stylus in hand, as Hanni seemed to have a question. The woman beside me noticed and started to laugh a little. "Well, Danielle has a crush on Felix. How long—" Hanni began, but our conversation was interrupted by Felix's snappy remark as he and his boyfriend sat down at our table.

Hyunjin's jaw was tense, his expression dark, while Felix looked as if he might burst into tears, though he also seemed pretty angry. Hanni glanced back and forth between the two, confusion written all over her face. I smiled amusedly and wrote something on my tablet, "It's always like this. Give them 10 minutes, and they'll be in love again."

Hanni read it and laughed a little. She grabbed the menu that a waiter had previously placed on the table. She leaned in closer to me as we ignored the huffing and sighing from across the table, focusing only on the menu.

"Shall we share again? Like last time?" Hanni asked, looking directly into my eyes. My breath hitched as Hanni was closer than I expected. My face reddened, and I gave a thumbs-up, my head hanging low in embarrassment as I stared at the menu.

"I hope you choke on your food."

"Oh, please. You'd be the first to cry."

"Not for you."

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and waved my left hand in front of Felix's face, which caught his attention immediately. I pressed my lips together and gestured first to my eyes and then to the menu.

"She says to shut up and finally decide what you want to eat," Hyunjin suddenly said, leaving me open-mouthed in shock. Hanni beside me giggled a bit as she looked at the three of us. I promptly slapped her thigh gently, which made her laugh even louder.

Now Felix laughed too, and I couldn't help but join in. A nearly choking sound escaped my mouth as I laughed. Even Hyunjin, who had remained serious the entire time, started laughing at my unusual laugh. Our table was filled with laughter.

I was the first to calm down since no sound came out of my mouth anymore, though I was still laughing silently. My hand hit Hanni's arm repeatedly as I laughed. She had her hand on my thigh, also hitting me as she laughed along.

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"So, how long have you two been together?" Hanni asked eagerly as she stole a bit of my pasta. A smile formed on my face as I watched her hold out her fork for me to try her food as well. I tasted it immediately, without feeling the stares of the two men on us. Felix's grin was unmistakable.

"Uh, I'm pretty bad at remembering dates," Felix admitted, turning his head to Hyunjin. "How long has it been? Four years?" he asked, and even Hyunjin had to think for a moment. He then responded with the exact date, causing Felix's eyes to widen. Shortly after, his expression relaxed, and he turned more toward his boyfriend.

My eyebrow raised as I observed Felix and Hyunjin looking at each other lovingly, exchanging a knowing glance with Hanni. Felix suddenly gasped and looked back at me, his hand on his chest. "I forgot to tell you," he said dramatically.

"Yeji is back."

My smile faded as I simply nodded in response. I noticed how Hanni's curiosity intensified, especially after seeing my reaction. "Who's Yeji?" she asked, making me flinch slightly. My jaw clenched a bit more than before. "My sister," Hyunjin said quietly with a sigh.

Hanni's forehead wrinkled visibly as she looked first at Felix, then Hyunjin, and finally at me. Felix sighed, "She and Y/N... were together once or... something like that," he explained, almost angrily looking at Hyunjin, who raised his hands defensively. "It's not my fault," Hyunjin said, making Felix sigh again.

Hanni hummed and leaned closer to me. "So, do we hate her?" she asked, surprising me. My eyes widened as I looked at the person next to me. I felt myself relax and leaned a bit more into Hanni as I shook my head.

"Definitely. That bitch... why is she back?" Felix asked, looking at Hyunjin, who just shrugged.

I continued eating. I didn't want to know anything about it...

I didn't care anymore...

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Taglist: @sixflame438 @saysirhc @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @somedaydream @wonyoungssi @gtfoiydlyj

#newjeans hanni #hanni pham #newjeans #haerin #danielle #newjeans minji #newjeans hyein #newjeans smau #newjeans x reader #hanni x reader #hanni newjeans

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

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the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 5,163

warnings: swearing, cops, talk of jail/billy's abuse, neil, fluff and love

a/n: well, here it is. this is the very last part of my very first series. i am very proud of the ending i've created for these two. i like to think i've given billy what he deserved. i'm so grateful for all of the feedback and support you've given me on the previous parts. also, a part of this relies heavily on hopper’s letter from season 3, so that’s that, and then some of his other dialogue. i’ve found that it fit billy effortlessly. i really hope you enjoy this and maybe find some solace in it. i love you all <333

before you read, listen to: time after time by cyndi lauper and/or the promise by when in rome

————

The first night without Neil, Hopper sits in his car outside the house. He promised no one would hurt them. He means it.

Nicky went to high school with both Hopper and Joyce. In fact, she was suspended for dealing them weed under the bleachers at one point. She regrets nothing to this day.

Because of that, it really wasn’t too difficult to have a heart-to-heart with the man, to get him to sit down with Billy. And Max and you. Susan.

Hopper had shown up at the house to speak with Neil. When he arrived, he told you to keep Billy in his room, though that hadn’t mattered. The second Billy realized he might actually get out of this, that he might live without fear of his own father, he buried his face in your chest, tears wetting your collarbones, your t-shirt.

You’d let him get it all out, stroking his loose and frizzy curls, occasionally laying your hands over his ears to muffle any shouting. Billy squeezed you each time you did so.

Even if he was a little hopeful this might work, Billy couldn’t help but think about that night when he was a kid. When his mama left him with Neil.

He’d sat on his bedroom floor, trying to be quiet while his dad showered, pleading with her.

“Please mom, don’t do this. Please come home.”

“How long? How long?”

“I miss you.”

She was the last person he felt safe with, before you. And she’d gone, leaving her boy with him. Trapped. Part of him wasn’t sure this would work out. He’d hoped for so long that his mother would return, and she hadn’t. Neil had dictated everything in Billy’s life so far, so how was it possible for anything to change?

Hopper had given Neil Hargrove one option.

“You’re gonna sign these papers,” he’d said, gesturing at the divorce packet lying on the table, “and I’m going to quietly take you down to the station and expose you for the piece of shit you are. Lock you up for abusing your child.”

Neil had started screaming about how Hopper had no right to do any of this, to barge into his home claiming all of this.

“Sure, yeah, pitch a fit. Like that’s gonna change anything,” Hopper said, entertained by the fact that Neil was acting like the victim.

During one of the intervals where your hands were pressed to Billy’s ears, the hoop in the left one biting into your palm, you’d caught something Hopper said.

“I suggest you shut your mouth before you give me something else to report.” By the tone in his voice, you could imagine that he was inches from Neil’s face.

“You’re a coward,” Hopper had said. “Beating on your kid because your life didn’t turn out right. Well let me tell you something, that’s not his fault. It’s yours.”

There’d been a knock on Billy’s bedroom door followed by Hop’s gruff voice.

“Y/N, kiddo can I have a minute with you?”

Billy had looked up at you, eyes puffy. “I’ll be right back baby, I’m not leaving, I promise.”

You’d pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he’d held onto your hand until it was too far out of his reach.

Shutting the door carefully behind you, you’d looked at him. “We’re taking him away,” he said.

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really. He signed, so Susan is good to go.”

Hopper considered letting Neil run away, making him just disappear, but he didn’t want to chance him doing this to someone else. He’d already done that once though, hadn’t he?

“I’m really proud of you for helping him through this, kid. You remind me of your mom.”

His hand had been warm on your shoulder.

“If you want me to be honest, he’s lucky this prison isn’t very big. But that doesn’t mean nothing will happen if others figure out what he’s in for.”

You nodded, knowingly.

“Powell and Callahan just got here. We’re gonna be quiet. No lights, nothing. I don’t want to make this worse for Billy. But if he wants to see, we’re going soon.”

“Thank you, Hopper,” you’d said, hugging him. He’d let you. He’d had his fair share of a shitty father as a kid. Helping someone like Billy is something he’d always wanted to do.

Back in Billy’s room, you’d taken his face in your hands.

“Baby, they’re taking him now. Do you want to watch or stay inside?”

His back had straightened. He knew what he wanted, and he told you as much, so you led him through to the back steps, holding his hand the whole time, Max behind you, resting her chin on her brother's arm.

Billy got to watch them shove his father in the back of a police car, hands behind his back.

He was finally free.

————

Susan pawned most of Neil's more expensive things, that way she'd have money to cover bills for a while and have something to put towards the house payment. She hadn't really been trusted with the financials when Neil was around, aside from basic spending. Now that she had two children to look after, she really didn't want to be in a bad spot.

She had a feeling most newly divorced women would use the money to buy themselves something nice, but she didn't see any point in that. This wasn't about her. This was about making a life where Billy and Max could feel safe.

Even if Billy had whined about it to you at first, having dinner with Max and Susan at least three times a week to start was helping. And he would never admit this, but Susan was actually a pretty damn good cook. Whenever she'd prepared food pre-inmate Neil, they'd been kind of shitty. Billy supposed this had been her tiny form of protest.

It's pretty late now, but Billy is sprawled on the couch watching reruns of whatever. He's really not even entirely sure what's happening on tv. He thinks this might be Cheers. It's the fact that he can be on the couch that he's doing it. He doesn't have any particular reason to hide in his room unless he wants to.

He's missed this couch. It's the same one he's sat on since he was a kid. Since his mother was still around. It was one of the few items that made it to Hawkins when they moved.

Susan has the day off tomorrow. She said so at dinner. Hence why she's still up.

Billy hears her footsteps and looks up when she walks into the room. She gives him a gentle smile.

"I'm making Max some hot chocolate. You feel like some? I have marshmallows too, if you want those."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks."

She smiles again and then disappears for a while before returning with a mug that has a six-year-old Max's hand print on it.

Billy sits up and takes a sip. He can't remember the last time someone made him someone other than you or Nicky made him something like this.

Susan sits down a little ways away from Billy in an oversized chair that Max usually claims as her own. The only time anyone else gets to sit in it are in times like these when she's being forced to do science homework with Dustin yapping in her ear. She'd asked for help, not an entirely new lesson. Dustin did not care.

Susan starts to read a book, and Billy almost forgets she's in the room when she speaks.

"Billy?"

His eyes rove across from the television to her over the top of his mug. She sets the book down.

"I just wanted to apologize. For not doing anything to protect you from your dad. I don't really have a reason other than selfish ones, like I was afraid he'd start on me, or Max. I guess I just thought if he got it out things would be okay." She buries her face in her hands.

"God, I'm so sorry, Billy. This is your home, and I came into your life and took you away from where you'd grown up, and I never stopped to think about what it was doing to you. I was only thinking about myself."

“I should’ve helped take care of you. You were just a kid. You’re still just a kid. And I’ve done nothing but let you down. I want to be better. I’m not saying I want to replace your mom or anything, but I don’t want you to feel unsafe or unwelcome here anymore.”

Billy keeps drinking his hot chocolate but he has to hold it with both hands because they’re shaking now.

“I feel like I don’t even know you. And maybe that’s because you didn’t want to know me, or maybe because I just avoided you.”

“I’m just so sorry, Billy. I want to try. I am trying. The both of you deserve so much better and you don’t have to accept this. I just wanted you to know that and that I care about you.”

Billy is quiet and for a moment it scares Susan, but she understands he might not have anything to say. He might not want to say anything. He might be waiting until he can afford to move out of this fucking house.

But Billy finally sets his mug down. It’s empty. He looks at Susan and he nods.

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I understand. I don’t blame you and I appreciate that you want to try. I want to try, too.”

Susan nods back, a sweet smile on her face. It’s gentle, the look she’s giving him.

Billy does understand though. His being the target of Neil’s abuse prevented both Max and Susan from it. He understands that Susan was afraid of her husband and the man that she might not have known he’d unveil to be. She was scared. He understands.

He’s willing to try. To let her in.

She stands and picks up Billy’s empty cup. “Was it okay?” she asks, “It’s just the store bought kind.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was great.”

When she grins at him she looks young. She looks tired and upset, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it means change. Maybe it means she’s learning. She’s trying.

————

“Wear mine.”

Billy looks at you through the mirror in front of which he’s been primping. He claims he doesn’t like it when you say he’s “getting pretty.” His blush says otherwise.

“Yours?”

He rolls his eyes and puts down the hairspray he was holding. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ cold tonight. Just put mine on. I don’t want you to walk all the way back to your house just to get something I have.”

You snort, making for his closet door. “All the way back?”

He bumps your hip with his, a common you-little-shit gesture.

“Because I live so far away.” You greet the pornstar taped to the thin wood before sliding it open.

“Should be on the right,” Billy says, ignoring your comment and shoving cologne down the front of his pants while you aren’t looking. It’s a habit at this point. Shit, he doesn’t even think about it, and he knows he doesn’t have to impress you.

You push around the clothing hanging in his closet, a couple button-ups, leather, a sweater you’ve never seen him in. It’s this cream color, thick and cable knit. You pull it out.

“How come you don’t wear this?” you ask, holding it up to him. He unsnaps another button from his shirt and your eyes follow the movement even though you don’t mean to ogle.

Billy looks the sweater up and down like it’s grossing him out. “I wore it once,” he tells you.

“Once,” you mock playfully, putting the shirt back into his closet.

Billy’s hands are on your hips in an instant, spinning you around. “I thought you were getting a jacket, not raiding my belongings.”

You stick your tongue out at him. It’s childish and you know it, but you do it anyway. He smacks your ass in retaliation, and you go to squeeze his but he grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth so that he can kiss your pulse point.

“Barf.” The voice makes you turn your head, and Max has pushed the door open fully where it had been cracked.

“Hi, Max,” you say, pulling your hand from Billy’s grasp, even if he pouts, and moving to actually retrieve the denim jacket you’d been instructed to wear.

You can feel Billy and Max staring at each other. “What do you need?” he asks her.

“Just came to see if we were planning on leaving today or if I should maybe hitch a ride elsewhere.” She enters the room and sits down on the edge of her brother’s bed.

Billy glances at his watch. “You said to have you at El’s by seven-thirty. We’ve got time.”

She crosses her arms and Billy faces the mirror again. He thinks he’s finished. “Did you even finish packing your bag, shithead?”

You shove your arms through the jacket sleeves, looking at Max. She raises her eyebrows. No, she definitely did not. There’s a flash of red hair as she hops up, and then she’s gone, the sound of dresser drawers being yanked open and shut echoing down the hall.

You start rolling up the cuffs, and Billy reaches for the collar, adjusting it for you. You’re focused on getting your hands free when you feel Billy’s finger lifting your chin up. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you once. He pulls away and you move back in, wanting one more. He obliges, albeit grinning at your eagerness. When you’ve gotten your fill, you kiss his cheek, and that’s the one that makes him blush.

He moves away from you, pulling on his own jacket. “I’m gonna go start the car, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Max let it slip once that Billy always went out to warm up the car before taking them to school. She wouldn’t have assumed it was for her right off the bat, but when she realized he didn’t do that when it was just him in the car, she figured out it was him being nice. Now he just does it for the both of you. You won’t ever say anything about it.

You look at yourself in Billy’s mirror, listening to his footsteps down the hall and out into the living room. You put your hands in the pockets of his jacket, and to your surprise you feel something. It’s not spare change, or a lighter–anything you would’ve expected to find.

It’s a sheet of paper. You pull it out, thinking it might be homework he tucked away or a receipt or something. It’s not, though. It’s notebook paper, and it’s been neatly folded like it was done with purpose.

You sit on the edge of Billy’s bed, and unfold it. To your surprise, it’s a page covered in his handwriting, that pretty, sometimes faintly cursive scrawl. There are some lines scratched out because he used a pen and couldn’t erase. But the thing that catches your eye is the very first line. It’s just your name. It’s a letter. A letter for you.

Your heart starts to race and you find yourself beginning to read, sinking further into his mattress.

There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, it reads.

Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I’d forgotten what those were. I’ve been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I sat with you at lunch, and bought you a book, and suddenly you were part of my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy.

But, tonight I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like I’m pulling away from you or something. I’m sitting here and I’m thinking about the way you looked at me that first night at the record store. The way you held on to me when I slept over for the first time. I’m not even sure if you remember it, but every time I tried to move throughout the night you whined like you were afraid I was going to leave you. Like you needed me.

But you didn’t know about my dad or that I was falling in love with you then. And I can’t stop thinking about how I raised my voice at you when I came over today.

You pause, realizing when it was that he wrote this. The day he fought back.

And I’ve been afraid for so long that I might turn out like him. That I might be just the same. And I’ve been scared that you might realize that too and leave me behind. But I didn’t feel that way today when you spoke to me like a human being and you wanted to work things out. I’m changing. You’re changing me. We’re changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change. Because there’s a part of me that worries you might still change your mind. The rest of me knows you won’t.

So I think maybe what I’m saying is that when you didn’t know about how I felt or who I really am on the inside that it didn’t feel like I’d lose you. But now I’ve let you in and you can see all of me. And now that you’ve said you love me I really don’t want things to change. I don’t want to lose you or want you to go.

But I know that’s naive. To think you’ll leave. That’s not who you are. I know you’d look at me and say that’s not how this is going to work.

My whole life everyone has picked someone else over me. Left me behind. Left me on my own. And I know that’s how life works. It’s moving. Always moving and people change whether you like it or not. But you’ve taught me that change can be good. That it doesn’t always mean people changing their mind about me. About caring about me or that I’m good enough to keep around.

And sometimes change is painful. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s surprising.

Happy.

So you know what? I don’t think change is bad anymore. I think I’m supposed to learn from it. I think that when life hurts, because I know parts of it are going to hurt and there will be things that always hurt, I should remember it. Because the hurt is good. It means I’m out of that cave.

I just want you to hold my hand while I figure it all out.

You finish reading and fold the letter back up, putting it back where you found it. You hadn’t realized you were crying, but you were, and you spend the next few minutes fixing yourself in Billy’s mirror.

When he returns he thinks you’re the one primping.

“Ready, baby?” he asks. “Max is in the car.”

You turn to him, and he smiles at you. That pretty, pretty smile. You kiss him on both cheeks and then shut off his bedroom light.

“I’m ready.”

————

Billy pulls away from Hop’s cabin after dropping Max off, but he’s quick to stop the car again.

You were quiet the whole way there. Sweet as always, no doubt, but it was clear something was bothering you. He doesn’t like it when things upset his girl.

“What are you doing, Hargrove? We’re gonna miss the movie if you keep this up.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Well excuse the hell outta me, hon’.”

You slap your hands against your face, peeking through your fingers at him in hopes that he’ll go ahead and scold you.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Billy doesn’t have to elaborate. You never seem to have to explain your feelings to him much anymore. It’s like he’s figuring you out, like he understands and knows when something’s bugging you or if you’re hurting.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” you say.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

You nod, and reach into the pocket of the jacket, pulling free the paper. It’s seconds before Billy sees the striped sheet that he remembers what it is, what he’d left in there.

It all comes back to him, his wrist hurting from pouring his heart out, the relief he felt at putting his feelings somewhere.

You hand it to him. He unfolds it and scans it over. “You read it?” He knows you did.

“Yeah.” You smile shyly at him, and it’s the same smile you gave him that very first night that you came to check on him. Billy wants to kiss you, so he leans over the center console and does; he presses his mouth to your forehead, warm and sweet. His presence is all-encompassing: heady cologne, minty gum. So very Billy. So much like home.

He hands the paper back to you. “Feelings, huh?” he says, his mouth pulling up at the corners.

“Feelings.”

You sandwich your hands between your thighs, taking a deep breath. Your eyes start to water and you can’t help it.

“Billy, I would never leave you, okay?” You were hoping the tears wouldn’t spill over, but it doesn’t matter because your voice fails you. It wavers and you sound fragile, young. And then he’s taking your face in his hands, wiping under your eyes even though there isn’t anything to wipe yet, just soothing motions over the apples of your cheeks, calloused thumbs and warm skin.

He stares at you, his eye contact unbreaking. When he looks at you like that, blue eyes boring into yours, you can’t help but feel a little full. Because he’s looking at you like that. You.

“I know that. I know.”

You nod, and he nods with you, so much that it looks silly, the both of you nodding, and you start to laugh.

“I made you feel that way? Really?”

“Of course you did,” Billy says. “My whole life I’ve felt like I’m like a black hole or somethin’. You don’t make me feel that way.”

Your heart aches for him. For this boy who’s had no one tell him how good he is. Who’s finally let you in. Who’s finally realized he can have better, and that he deserves to.

“I love you, Billy.”

He kisses you on each cheek, your face warm against his lips. He grins and you can feel it on your face.

“I love you too.”

When you get to the movie theater, you do pay for popcorn, and you do hand him the snacks you kept in your bag after you take your seats. Your mother said movie candy was getting much too expensive.

You pop a handful of Sno Caps in your mouth, and Billy opens his mouth. You sprinkle some in his, and then reach for his hand.

He looks down at your clasped fingers while a kid almost faceplants with a bucket of popcorn on the way up the stairs. Thankfully their father caught them first.

“You did say you wanted me to hold your hand.”

“I did,” Billy says.

—————

“Sit still, I’ll be right back, I swear.”

Billy crosses his arms, but it’s hard for him to look entirely brooding when he’s got plum shadow on his eyelids. You stand. “Here, Max, supervise.” You hand her the brush between your fingers, and she snorts at her brother from where she lays across your bed.

You make for the living room, suppressing a grin at the sounds of laughter emanating from the area. Susan and Nicky sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching The Golden Girls and talking about whatever it is that mothers-of-dating-children talk about.

“Mom,” you say, coming to a stop in front of her.

“Hi, honeybee. What’s the matter?”

“Can I use some of your makeup? There’s some things you’ve got that I haven’t and–”

She smiles at you, adjusting the well-loved pillow squished behind her back. “You know you can. Whatever you need.”

Her grin is contagious, and you find yourself smiling back just the same. “Thank you.”

She nods. “Playing dress up?” Your mother gives you a knowing look, thinking about the idea you’d had in mind ever since you watched Rocky Horror with Billy that first time.

“You could say so,” you tell her, and then you’re off to raid her bathroom cabinet, pulling free the large and full bag of goodies.

You start to rifle through the corduroy pouch, but decide it’d be easier to take the whole thing with you to your room, so that’s what you do.

When you return, you settle on your knees in front of your boyfriend, still finding it odd that you get to call him that now, even if that is exactly what he is to you. Your pretty, pretty boyfriend. Your boyfriend who’s letting you do his makeup.

Max hands you your brush back, raising herself up on her elbows so that she can watch the show better.

“Hi,” you say to him, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Hi,” he responds, his voice showing all signs that he’s both enjoying this, yet also grumping about the fact that he let you do it in the first place. He settles back on his hands, legs spread so that you can sit in between them and reach him. You pull free both the pencil of thick liner you’d been looking for, and a pot of blush you know to be much pinker than the one you’ve got. Yours has also been broken on multiple occasions so that now it’s just little bits of pink powder sliding around in the pan.

You uncap the liner first, a warm brown shade, clearly freshly sharpened by your mother. “Close your eyes, pretty please,” you tell him. He obliges, lids fluttering shut.

You reach out, and starting to drag the tip of the pencil across his skin, you realize your hand isn’t as steady as you’d like, considering the fact that you’re also half-focused on not kneeing Billy in a place you’re quite sure he’d prefer to not be kneed.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and Billy blinks up at you. “What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t working. Just–” You shove the eyeliner pencil into his hands, and then move from between his legs. You grip his calves and move his legs together, then crawl forwards a little and straddle his lap.

He grins up at you, a cocky and mischievous look. “Comfy?”

“Shut up and close your eyes again.”

“Well you don’t want much.”

You pinch the squish of his side and he swats blindly at your arm. You take Billy’s face in your hand, resting the pinky of your dominant one against his cheekbone. This go around you’re able to drag the liner effectively across his eyelid. A tap at his face signals he needs to look up, and when he does, you do the same to his lower hip. Afterwards, you take a super small brush that Max found and use it to smudge the eyeliner out some, that way the lines aren’t so harsh.

You finish and take Billy’s face in your hands again, turning it to face Max. “Thoughts?”

She taps her chin, though smiling all the same. “Very nice.”

With a little more manhandling, you get some mascara on those lashes of his, though not without a little pleased squeaking in the process. It’s at the blush that you get excited enough to make him laugh. You swipe your brush heavily across his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose, where you’re probably much too generous. You don’t care. He looks so, so pretty, all blushy like this.

“Part your lips.” You say, thumb tugging at his bottom one. You put a gloss on Billy’s lips and almost lose it for good. He’s so gorgeous.

When you finish, you wipe your hands clean on a towel and back up a little ways from him to survey your work.

You clap your hands. “Max, help me. Would you look at this?”

She does, laughing gleefully. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

You look Billy in the eyes, and Max hops up off of your bed to get a better look. “You look so gorgeous, my love.”

He’s thankful for the blush in that moment, because without it you’d see the effect your using that name had on him.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Wanna see?” God, you look so happy.

“Do I have to?”

You bite your lip and Billy pulls it free, taking the little handheld mirror from you.

And, honestly, he thinks he looks kinda hot. You picked a good eyeshadow color, one that makes his blue eyes stand out even more, and he just looks pretty. Just as you’d said.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. You did a very good job.”

He goes to kiss you, but you stop him. “Nope. You’ll mess up my work!”

Billy rolls his eyes and flips Max a bird when he sees her giggling at your enthusiasm and his compliance.

“Can I take a picture?” you ask.

Billy holds up his hands. “Oh hell no.”

“Billy, she needs to document her masterpiece,” Max says, though really she knows it’d make great blackmail. That and she loves how happy the both of you seem. She’d like to remember this too.

“Please?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes, making sure they’re watery and everything. You know he’ll give in.

“Fine. But you show this to anyone, and you’re both dead.”

You laugh, grabbing for your Polaroid camera. “Who the fuck do you think I’m gonna show? Everyone I know is in this room.”

Billy’s smiles then, and you’re just quick enough to catch it. You get another after you kiss his sparkly forehead. And when you’ve finished, you stick them in the frame of your mirror so they’ll always be there.

That night, after Max and Susan have gone home, you sit in the bathroom to help Billy wash the makeup off, but only when you’d let Nicky see, and she thought he looked stunning. Showstopping, she’d said.

And it’s then, as you wipe the rosy tinge from his cheeks, revealing his freckles once again, that you realize months before this you’d been so alone. You’d ached for a moment like this.

And here you were. So even if the journey to get here had hurt, even if it’d been hard and pushed you to your limits, it’s okay. Because that’s how life works. It hurts sometimes. And that’s okay.

Because the hurt? The hurt is good.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy stranger things fic #billy stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove series #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fluff #jim hopper #max mayfield #billy hargrove x female reader #savannah’s fics

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hotluncheddie · 2 years ago

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stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 3

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

‘ok. ok! you just, you just gotta be cool munson. be casual. chill. just like, vibe, yeah? yeah. no more funny business.’ eddie holds his fists up to himself in the dinky bathroom mirror. a couple of jabs, a quick one two, that’ll clear his head.

clear his head enough to go out and deal with steve fucking harrington again and his stupid stupid face and neck and tongue and like pretty fucking ankle bones. fucker.

see eddies not blind, and he’s not that dumb, he knows he flirts with steve and he knows steve flirts back. he just. cant deal with it just yet. it’s like every time he’s around the guy he blacks out and resurfaces red faced and half hard. but the point at which his vision fades and all hell breaking loose seems to vary so completely that he can’t stop it happening.

their conversations will start normal, a jolly lark, a guffaw here, a story there but then bam! someone said or did something that shifted his functioning brain capacity from 60% on a good day to like -5% and that’s being generous.

he just can’t get his ratty little self to either 1) stop liking steve harrington in a gay, gay, homosexual way. or 2) accept that someone like steve harrington could possibly like aforementioned rat himself eddie munson and actually process his feeling into a reaction that’s more than; red, red, half a boner, sweaty palms, red.

so he took a second to hide in the bathroom. that’s fine, that’s kind even. self care, as robin likes to say when she paints her nails on top of steve’s head when he sits on the computer at work. he likes to make the chair super low because apparently it helps his posture and he need to keep an eye on his posture or else he’ll end up like his great uncle melvin, or something.

self care time is over however because robins knocking on the little bathroom door, hollering about needing to get home to practice for her english presentation tomorrow. so it’s time for eddie to put his big boy pants back on and get in steve’s car.

eddie full body shudders.

‘finish writing you sad boy poems on the stall walls in there? roses are red, violets are blue, i like big dumb jock boys but can’t seem to accept they like me too, even if my very cool very in the know friend robin tells me too. hm?’ robin slings an arm over his shoulder and steers him back to the table.

eddie sniffs, crossing his arms ‘that last bit doesn’t rhyme so, i will be ignoring all of it. F for u buckbey.’

‘not everything has to rhyme perfectly u know. it can still fit together just fine as it is.’ she tugs on one of his curls before slipping back into steve side, finishing off the last of his milkshake and hauling him out of the booth because she ‘has shit to do dingus.’

too smart for her own good that chick. eddie loves her. he’s also going to move away and never talk to her ever again, maybe steal her collection of berets too, become a hat guy, once he reinvents himself. yeah.

steve is putting a few bills on the table, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. ‘just fries tonight ed’s? that makes you kind of a cheap date don’t you think?’ tapping eddie under the chin before following robin to the door, smacking his palm on the frame above on the way out. because of course he does, the neanderthal. all broad shoulders and biceps and ass.

there a second where eddie thinks steve could smack him like that but then he feels his vision spotting. can a guy not catch a break around here? jesus!

the car ride is a blissful reprieve due to cyndi lauper coming on, which had steve and robin performing a duet. which then needed to be tweaked and discussed in detail ready for the next time that specific song came on the radio.

it was honestly nice to watch. eddie had walked to family video that day because his van keeps playing up after it’s stint hidden in the woods. poor girl just needs a day off once in a while so eddie walks and then listens to car duets from two very much none singers. but it nice. makes his heart all yucky and warm.

until robin is leaving. leaving him alone to be a big nerd with a future. leaving him alone to make a fool of himself again. his ego is big and he likes to keep it that way.

‘you coming up here then’ steve shifts slightly, looking as far as he can over his shoulder at eddie huddled behind the drivers seat. ‘no’ he squeaks because last time steve got all up in his face getting his tape box out of the glove compartment. rifling through it while it was on eddies lap. so close eddie could smell the apple from his shampoo and the cigarette they’d shared earlier.

self care.

‘ooh you want the full harington taxi service do you? i see, well then govna, where too is it?’ steve tips his invisible cap and has the most awful cockney accent eddies ever heard, and he did middle school theatre.

‘geeze, just take me home dude.’ eddie shoves through the gap between the seats, landing heavy in the passenger. crossing his arms and trying to hide his smile behind his hair.

‘there he is. out of the shadows.’ steve tucks some of his curls behind his ear. eddie sees the soft smile out of his peripheral. tries to swallow the cotton in his mouth. steve turn back to the road ‘let’s rock ‘n roll’ he revvs the engine, wiggling his eyebrows, before checking his blind spot and pulling away into a cushy 30mph.

eddie looks out the window and hides his grin in his palm.

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

tags! ( ty for asking to be tagged wow so lovely can’t believe it hehe :3c ) (sry if i missed anyone or u didn’t want to be tagged just let me know!)

@bidisastersworld @sadcanadianwinter @mightbeasleep @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @fandomz-brainrot @satan-is-obsessed @resident-gay-bitch @grtwdsmwhr @forsexyscience

#steddie #steve x eddie #my silly silly boys #cocky steve #eddie and robin are besties it’s tru its tru #<3 #hotlunch #my fic #stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

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thepladinsheart · 7 months ago

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hello dreamers!

Hello, I'm sage and welcome to my blog!

My blog is home to all things witchy, 80s related, music related, all my hyper fixations, pretty much anything!

Like I said, I'm Sage! I'm a minor, infj-t and a Pisces! my pronouns are she/they!!<3

please do not spam like, you will be blocked!

my likes!

musical theatre

funky rings

funky makeup

singing

finn wolfhard

the tortured poets dept.

writing

painting

anything from the 70's or 80's

trixie mattel

the song florida!!!

stand up comedy

koi fish

making moodborads

byler

vinyls

Dislikes

mean people

homophobes, racstis, sexits, etc

Billy Hargrove stans/defenders

taylor swift haters (you don't have to like her, thats fine! but please do not make the fact that you dont like her my problem <3)

on that note, people who make their feeling my problem

people who don't like mike wheeler, robin buckley, max mayflied or lucas sinclair

Movies!

Footloose (1984)

It (2017)

Ghostbuster Frozen Empire (2024)

When you finish saving the world (2023)

The breakfast club (1985)

call my by you name (2019)

TV shows!

dance moms (2011-2017)

rupaul's drag race

stranger things (2016-)

Music!!

taylor swift (betty, cowboy like me, mad woman, flordia!!!)

kate bush (#1 ARMY DREAMERS STAN, hounds of love, running up that hill)

Fleetwood mac (landslide, dreams, the chain)

Hozier (Work song, From eden, angel of small death and the codeine scene)

Frank ocean (pyramids, pink + white, chanel, )

Sabrina Carpenter (espresso, nonsense, feather)

chappell roan (after midnight, red wine supernova, hot to go, casual)

tv girl (blue hair, lovers rock, the blonde, not allowed, taking whats not yours)

oasis (champagne supernova)

the backseat lovers (olivia, snowbank blues, watch your mouth, intuition)

queen (killer queen, somebody to love)

cyndi lauper (time after time)

the smiths (there is a light that never goes out, panic, this charming man, back to old house)

sza (broken clocks, the weekend, prom)

harry styles (cherry, fine line, little freak)

favorite people ever !

@hearteyes-wheeler @mqstermindswift @her-midas-touch @byerswheeler @daydream-of-a-wallflower @dowhatgivesupeace @t0tiredforthis @byler2025 @bylertruth3r @starsarefire824 @byler-alarmist @clingybyler @willbyersoffical @crzytoogetherr @bylersbear01

follow these people!

if you liked what you seen so far, maybe kinda sorta consider giving me a follow ill be forever grateful! love you! mean it! bye for now <3

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whileiamdying · 5 months ago

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At 70, Cyndi Lauper Has Nothing Left to Prove

At 70, Cyndi Lauper is charging back to action with a road show and “Let the Canary Sing,” a film that tells her life story.Credit...Thea Traff for The New York Times

She’s plotting a farewell tour. She’s starring in a documentary about her life. And she could only ever be herself.

By Amanda Hess June 4, 2024

One Friday afternoon in May, Cyndi Lauper stepped out of her Upper West Side apartment building and into the streets of New York City. She wore glitter-encrusted glasses, sneakers with rainbow soles and a stack of beaded bracelets on each arm. A rice-paper parasol swung in her hand. As she walked, she examined the crowds and remarked when glints of interest caught her eye.

“Of course, up here it’s fashion hell,” she allowed of her tony neighborhood. And yet, every few blocks she rubbernecked at another woman’s look, her famous New Yawk accent lifting and tumbling in pleasure at what she saw:

“Look at these dames, how cute are they?”

“Did you love those pants? I kind of loved those pants.”

“Look at this lady,” she said, stepping off the curb and clocking a passerby. The woman moved nimbly, tomato-red streak in her silver hair, body draped in shades of fuchsia and cherry as she pushed the gleaming metal frame of a walker. “Fabulous,” Lauper exclaimed. “Come on!”

At 70, the pop icon and social justice activist isn’t just charging back into the streets. On Monday, Lauper announced her final tour, the Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Farewell Tour, which will have her headlining arenas across North America from late October to early December. And “Let the Canary Sing,” a documentary about her life and career that premiered at the Tribeca Festival last year, is streaming on Paramount+.

Lauper has not staged a major tour — “a proper tour, that’s mine” — in over a decade. But now her window of opportunity is closing, so she’s leaping through it. “I don’t think I can perform the way I want to in a couple of years,” she said. “I want to be strong.”

Lauper photographed at the Scarlet Lounge on the Upper West Side, the Manhattan neighborhood where she lives with her husband and two pugs.Credit...Thea Traff for The New York Times

And until recently, when she finally agreed to sit for the director Alison Ellwood, she could not envision committing her life story to film. “I wasn’t going to do a documentary because I’m not dead,” she said. More to the point, she did not feel particularly misunderstood. From the moment she danced across the city in the 1983 video for “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” she felt that she had articulated precisely what she wanted to say.

“Everything I wanted them to understand was in that video,” she said of her fans. She has a lot of people who get her: The clip has been viewed on YouTube more than one billion times. Forty years later, she holds it up as a thesis, the key to decoding her artistic perspective and understanding everything that followed. After all, “You never have to wonder where a New Yorker stands,” she said. “They’ll tell you, straight up.”

CYNDI LAUPER, BORN in Brooklyn, raised in Queens, bopped around the house to the Beatles’ songs, her older sister, Elen, singing McCartney’s parts and Lauper taking Lennon’s. It was her earliest lesson in harmony and song structure. But when she left home at 17, it was with a copy of Yoko Ono’s feminist conceptual art book “Grapefruit” in her hands.

Ono taught her that “you can create art in your head, and then you can view things differently,” Lauper told me. This attitude served her well as she tried (and often failed) to work as a painter, a shoe saleswoman, a racetrack hot walker, an IHOP waitress, a gal Friday at Simon & Schuster and the singer in a cover band.

Singing other people’s music in Long Island clubs and dive bars, Lauper struggled to find her place. She tried to channel Janis Joplin, but “I was stuck inside her body, and she didn’t like it, and I didn’t like it,” she said. She tried to sound like Gene Pitney, and “it came out sounding like Ethel Merman.” After a while, “You start to feel that you’re just not good enough.”

Lauper in 1986, the year she released “True Colors,” a song she felt drawn to in the wake of a friend’s death from AIDS.Credit...Pictorial Parade and Archive Photos/Getty Images)

But really, she was just no good at being anyone other than Cyndi Lauper. When she started writing and arranging songs for herself, “I told the stories that I knew about the women that I knew,” she said. “About my mom, my aunt, my grandmother.” They guided her back to the rhythms of her own life, even if, in the beginning, few were interested in listening. “My first concert was to 14 people,” she said, “and I did the encore, OK?”

The documentary’s title is a line ripped from a real-life courtroom drama: Early on, Lauper’s career got entangled in the ambitions of an ex-manager, who sued her to retain control of her music. She sank into bankruptcy trying to escape him. When the judge sided with Lauper, he banged the gavel and said: “Let the canary sing.”

Once freed, Lauper connected with Robert Hazard, who had written a track called “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” He’d arranged it as a rock song from a man’s perspective — the girls were the ones he imagined sleeping with — and Lauper had some edits. She recast it as a gleeful public announcement, calling out a sexist double standard (“Oh mama dear, we’re not the fortunate ones”) while claiming liberation from the workplace, the home and the patriarchy. And she rearranged the notes, pitching her voice so high that it could not be ignored. “I sang that high because I was trumpeting an idea,” she said.

And then there was the video. “That video was what you call ‘inclusive’ nowadays, and that was the most important thing,” Lauper said. In addition to the Italian American pro wrestler Lou Albano, Lauper featured her mother, her lawyer, her manager, a crop of record-company secretaries, and a racially diverse group of singers and dancers. “I was sick of the segregation” of the music industry, she said. “It’s people together that create a style.”

“Everything I wanted them to understand was in that video,” Lauper said of the clip for “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

MTV was still in its infancy in 1983, and it was fortuitous that Lauper’s debut album, “She’s So Unusual,” came out just as the network was ascending. She saw her public image as a visual art form. Her makeup artist was a painter, and her stylist was a vintage buyer.

“People sometimes get the wrong idea that it was very thrown together,” Laura Wills, the founder of the vintage shop Screaming Mimi’s, said of the singer’s style. “People just didn’t look like that.” In the early ’80s, Lauper worked for Wills, often bartering her labor for clothes. When her career took off, Wills started styling her, and the pair often constructed Lauper’s outfits as if sliding chips across a poker table, as in, “I’ll see your polka-dot socks and striped capris, and I’ll raise you a plaid top,” Wills said. “I’ll see your polka-dot socks, striped capris and plaid top, and I’ll raise you a paisley hat.”

Lauper seemed to shoot to fame as a fully formed feminist icon. She refused to tell interviewers her age (“I’m not a car,” she said), and she insisted that they recognize the politics behind her aesthetic choices. “I wore the corset to undo the power of the binding of women,” she told the press. She graced the cover of Ms. Magazine and recorded the 1986 song “True Colors,” which resonated with her in the wake of a friend’s death from AIDS.

“I know that I probably lost business because I talked about AIDS a lot,” she said, but figured “I ought to stand up like any good Italian and stick up for my family, you know?” In 2008, she founded True Colors United to help combat homelessness among L.G.B.T.Q. youth. And in 2022, she created the Girls Just Want to Have Fundamental Rights fund to support abortion access and other reproductive justice movements.

In 1985, Lauper won the best new artist Grammy after the release of “She’s So Unusual.” The album — and songs like “Time After Time” and “All Through the Night” — broke records. But something odd was happening. She looked around and saw versions of herself everywhere. “When I first became famous, I felt like the whole world just kind of went” — here Lauper made a sharp slurping noise — “and sucked everything up. The jewelry, the color, the corsets on the outside, the whole thing. And then used it. Spit it out. Next!”

“I don’t think I can perform the way I want to in a couple of years,” Lauper said. “I want to be strong.”Credit...Thea Traff for The New York Times

Lauper was accused of being a manufactured package. “No, it was me. That’s how I dressed. That’s how I looked. That was my community,” she said. “I have a brain.”

When Lauper got a call that a movie studio was adapting her big hit into a movie, she balked at its fluffy premise. “I guess it was about a couple of girls … trying to have fun,” she said. (Sarah Jessica Parker and Helen Hunt starred.) Lauper refused permission to use her song, so it featured Hazard’s version with other vocalists instead. “For me, it sucked,” she said. “You took my style. And it had nothing to do with me at all.”

In the ’80s, Lauper was compared so closely to other female musicians that it was implied there was not space for all of them. She was pitted against other women — mainly Madonna, who released her debut album the same year. On chat shows and in schoolyards (and even on the charity single “We Are the World”), celebrities and fans were asked to choose one. “It was like apples and oranges,” Lauper told me. Or as she put it in Newsweek in 1985: “She’s just doing her thing. My thing happens to be different.” It was a shame, Lauper said: “I would have liked to have a friend.”

Though she fought her battles mainly alone, Lauper has inspired generations of women. Among her acolytes are Nicki Minaj, who in April brought her onstage in Brooklyn to duet on the song that samples her, “Pink Friday Girls.” When an interviewer asked the 26-year-old singer-songwriter Chappell Roan, “How does it feel to be called the Gen-Z Cyndi Lauper?” she replied, “I think Cyndi Lauper is the Gen-Z Cyndi Lauper.”

Lauper made 11 more albums after her debut — among them a blues record, a country record and a dance record. In the early 2000s, she walked over to Broadway, starring in “The Threepenny Opera” and writing the music and lyrics to the musical “Kinky Boots” after Harvey Fierstein, who wrote the book, tapped her for the gig. “There’s a small group of people I consider my children; she’s one of my daughters,” the actor and writer, who turns 72 this week, said. Fierstein told me that he had suspected Lauper’s talents were underused in rock, and he wanted to see what it was like for her to write a song that she would never sing herself.

Lauper accepting the Tony for best score, for her work on “Kinky Boots.”Credit...Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

“My favorite was a recording she made on her phone, in the beauty parlor, with her head in the dryer,” he said. (Lauper was often multitasking.) Her autoharp competed with the salon noise. “It’s really hard to sell a $10 million production on a recording of an autoharp song with a dryer background,” he said. “But that’s what we did.” Lauper won the Tony for best score, the first woman to win alone.

In an industry that requires the rapacious pursuit of the new and the cynical extraction of identity, Lauper was never willing to abandon herself. She had forged the revolutionary style, sang the totemic song. She inspired millions, billions, of fans to be themselves. Why should she have to change who she was?

AS LAUPER AND I traversed the Upper West Side, we ducked into an exhibition about the abstract artist Sonia Delaunay, passed the original Screaming Mimi’s location (now a dry cleaners), and wound back to her apartment, where she invited me up.

Past the doorman, past a cheetah-print doormat and a cheetah-print curtain, two little pugs named Lulu and Ping awaited Lauper’s return. She disappeared to arrange a plate of ginger cookies, the same kind Jackson Browne always sent her on Christmas, while her husband, the actor David Thornton, told me about their meet-cute on the set of the 1991 film “Off and Running.” She played a fake mermaid, he played a murderer. Off the set, he was struck instantly by her winning sense of humor.

“She’s the Rodney Dangerfield of rock ’n’ roll,” he said. As in, she is so funny that she does not always receive the respect she deserves. “I don’t think anybody has any idea how hard she works,” he said.

Though Lauper was accused of being a manufactured package, she was the real deal. “That’s how I dressed. That’s how I looked. That was my community,” she said. “I have a brain.”Credit...Thea Traff for The New York Times

To prepare for the tour, she blasts the stereo in her apartment and dances and sings, vexing the pugs. She works with a vocal coach four days a week. And she trains like it’s a sport. Her weekly exercise routine includes physical therapy, weights, stretching, physical therapy, weights, yoga, more weights, yoga, aerobics, physical therapy, weights again. She’s been chomping on enormous salads that make her feel like a horse.

“But when you’re a singer, you have to be an athlete,” she said. “You can’t [expletive] around. When you’re 20, yeah. But when you get older? No.”

As the tour approaches, she’s been daydreaming about “all the crazy stuff I tried that didn’t work” in the long arc of her career. The butterfly-winged black dress that she was meant to reveal as she stepped out of a cocoon. The bit where she was supposed to change behind a backlit screen like an old cartoon character. A kind of mechanical skirt that resembled a globe, slowly spinning her around as she sang.

She’s not exactly sure what she’ll pull off this time. Whatever changes, one thing remains the same: “Who the hell I am is who the hell I am.”

Amanda Hess is a critic at large for the Culture section of The Times, covering the intersection of internet and pop culture. More about Amanda Hess

#The New York Times #Cyndi Lauper

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willows-adventures-in-words · 18 days ago

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More for the 21 pilots mashup thing I work on sometimes. The other part I posted can be found here.

Whumptober prompts 26: Nightmares breakfast table | parting words regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” word count: 560

~-~-~

He felt himself waking up. Though his mind was foggy, Layne listened to the footsteps walk across the room. And the voice that accompanied them. “-is doing really well.” Layne realized he was still plugged in. “So I was thinking we should start to decide on the next one. Waving through a window is pretty popular. Could have you guys do that one.” He walked around behind him as he continued talking. “Maybe do a throw back and go for a Disney song.” It was a struggle, but Layne managed slight movement in his arm. Only to realize he was restrained. Wrist tied to the armrest of the chair he was seated in. Right. The consequences of his actions. “But I guess before we do something like that I should figure out how to get you guys to be more animated.”

Kurt was quiet but Layne could still hear his footsteps for a moment. There was silence for awhile. He didn't hear him leave. He was still in the room. Layne tried to think. How long has it been? Months? He had no idea. Too many blanks. But... He had to do something. Layne was pretty sure he was the only one lucid enough to try anything. Did he want to risk moving? To find out where their captor was? His fingers twitched. “Hm? No, you're not trying that again.” Footsteps. “Time for you to clock out.” No. No no no. The cord was pulled. No... Then the heavy darkness fell over him.

-~-

Layne jerked awake. Shoving the blankets off, he nearly fell out of bed in his hurry to get up. He was breathing hard. Panicked. Eyes darting around the room as his hand went to his neck. Then his eyes shot over to the window. Taking his hand from his neck he pulled the curtain back. It took a minute before it clicked. Home. He was home.

He stepped back, the curtain falling closed, leg bumping against the bed-frame, and slumped down on the edge of the bed. His hand found its way back to his neck, covering the electrical plug. “Layne?” came the tired voice of his wife. He heard her, but he wasn't listening; his mind someplace else entirely. His heart pounding. It was so vivid. Felt like he was still there. Still... “Layne.” He let out a shaky breath and lifted his head slightly as Cyndi stepped over. She knelt down in front of him. His eyes followed her. He tried to focus. Drag himself back to the present. “You're okay.” She lifted her left hand and gently rested it over the one he held to his neck. “You're safe. You're safe and home.” She removed her hand and rested it on his cheek. “You're home, Layne.”

After releasing a shuddered breath, he leaned lightly against her palm and whispered, “I'm home.”

“Yes you are.” Layne could hear she was near tears. They lingered for just a moment longer before she got up and held him. He wrapped his arms around her. They both needed this. He's only been back home for a handful of hours. Layne closed his eyes and just focused on the sound of Cyndi's heartbeat. Her breathing. And soon her sniffling as she quietly cried in his hair.

#Whumptober2024 #no.26 #Nightmare #VoicePlay #Layne Stein #Cyndi Stein #21 piløts meshup story #VP writing #my writing

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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So I was wondering - is this the only version of Engel, that would truly work out with König? I'm kinda referring to the ask where he gets positive attention from a fellow female team mate. That really got me thinking. (Thanks other anon! ^^)

Imagine she doesn't run away when she sees his true colours (Great, I've got Cyndi Laupers "true colours" stuck in my head now. Thanks brain.). She also knows, that there is no fixing him and she still falls for him. Having a little itch for madness herself and not judging him for his flaws and weirdness, understanding his brokenness, the trauma behind this odd guy. But she is a mature, collected and confident woman and would not put up with his shit that much. She would be more standoffish with him, demanding a relationship that is on eye level, she knows her worth. But she means well, is caring and attentive towards him and wants to give him love. She is not afraid of him and wants to learn how to work with his issues. She thinks he's worth it, despite everything.

Maby after building trust and (if we follow the team mate thought) seeing how confident she handles work, how much she has her shit together, he could relax a bit. Trusting her and let loose a bit, looking up to her instead of looking down and having the constant urge to control and protect her. Let HER take care of HIM. Feeling safe himself for once, because he knows how strong she is and he admires that about her, despite it challenging his views of woman as fragile and in need of protection immensely.

He'd still be a maniac, you couldn't change that of course, but even the maddest of madmans should get a break sometimes. And don't get me wrong, after all, the possessiveness and controlling is his way of loving, he doesn't know better, but she would put him in his place, if he takes it too far and then he'd turn it down a notch - out of respect for her. And then he'd do it again of course. It would be kind of a Sisyphos situation with him.

I would love that for him, but maby he's too twisted to be able to allow something like that. Maby that dynamic with Engel, where he can fully live his obsessions and possessiveness is the perfect outcome for him. And in that case, I'm happy for our lovely lunatic killing machine. :)

Aaah this one gave me brainrot! Such a beautiful and wholesome take. I wrote that "strong soldier lady complimenting König and making him flustered for a change" -bit without thinking much about what would happen next…

And I’m a bit of a party pooper when I agree with that last paragraph 🥲 I think König’s need to be in control would make him want to break a strong person no matter what it takes - and by breaking, I mean manipulating, seducing and bullying them under his will.

He cannot bear the feeling that someone is a step ahead of him (even if it meant she just wants to meet on equal grounds!) König wouldn’t feel safe because his view of relationships and power dynamics is so distorted. A powerful, confident, independent woman who tries to love him in a healthy way, is a treat… and a threat.

There’s no mistake he would be in love. If she gave him compliments, gave him attention, flirted with him and showered him with a healthy dose of kindness, he would be in heaven. But boundaries? König would try to push through those boundaries every chance he gets, and he would try to find her weak spots so that he can infiltrate and start to dominate her.

He wouldn’t be physically violent with these attempts, no! But his possessiveness and manipulative behavior would go absolutely bonkers. It would drive him crazy if this green flag girl refused to play by his rules and escaped his traps or tried to “train” him in any way.

If nothing else worked, if they arrived at an impasse, König would try to dominate her through sex and his physicality. If she was willing to surrender to him and became more submissive, he would view it as a way to finally manipulate her. A-ha, she's just a brat that needs to be tamed! (Just imagine this confident, capable soldier babe slowly crumbling inside, waiting for her Austrian dom to come to her and teach her how to behave, slowly driving her to sweet madness…)

#answered #yandere könig #könig headcanons

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lulunothulu · 2 months ago

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There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

#lulu's requests mail #glen powell #fanfic #glen powell x you #glen powell fic #glen powell x reader #glenpowelledit

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