#steve harrington doll

[imavikingo]

If you want to buy but your country isn’t on the list, contact me via email: imavikingo@gmail.com

Also!

Si son de Chile:

[2jihiir0]

Hawkins’ heatwaves are 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦 ☀️ and the trailer doesn’t have AC

[jonathanbiers]

@heroeddiemunson's three year gifmaking anniversary celebration day 4 → skill: transition | colors: black and/or white | other: parallels

[lavenderstobins]

Steve dies the night of his 24th birthday.

His friends had thrown him a surprise party at Nancy's apartment. Argyle had given him a 'birthday joint', the kids had all shouted surprise, and he'd had a minor breakdown in the bathroom about turning twenty-four. He'd had a good night, drunk too much, and on his way home he's hit by a taxi, killing him instantly.

Steve opens his eyes to see his reflection staring back. He's in Nancy's bathroom again. His face is dripping cold water from the water he's just splashed on it. His heart is racing, the vision of the taxi clear in his mind.

He's alive, though. He's here. He leaves the bathroom and finds Dustin there, again, impatiently waiting for his input on some argument about Star Wars.

He writes it off as a weird high. Who knows what Argyle had put in the joint?

Then he dies again. Not a taxi, this time. He'd avoided the taxi. No, this time, he drowns.

He comes to in Nancy's bathroom again.

And again. And again. And again.

At first, he thinks it must be the joint fucking with him. Some new strain of weed he hasn't tried before, something that doesn't sit well with him. The more he dies, the more he keeps finding himself in that bathroom, he starts thinking otherwise.

Truthfully, he thinks he's losing his mind. Especially when he keeps dying on the goddamn stairs.

In any other scenario, it would be funny, the amount of different ways he's discovered he can die. He takes the window out of the apartment instead of braving the stairs. Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin—none of them are experiencing what he is. None of them remember reliving the evening over and over. They look at him with concern, like they think he's having a mental breakdown, like he's crazy.

Steve's lived thirty different Thursdays when he reaches Friday. He's ecstatic. He managed not to die. The curse is finally, finally, broken.

He's meant to meet Dustin at the mall. He's in the elevator with a handful of other people when the lights flicker. He looks up, hearing a loud groaning noise, and then they're plummeting.

Chaos breaks out. There's four other people with him: two of them are screaming, clinging to one another, a third is sobbing hysterically, and the fourth...

The fourth doesn't react at all. She stares ahead, past the others, and she looks bored.

"Hey, didn't you get the news?" Steve asks. She glances at him, and he notes that she's got more freckles than he's ever seen on someone. "We're about to die."

"Doesn't matter," the woman says. She's twisting a silver ring around her middle finger. "I die all the time."

He stares at her, stunned. He opens his mouth—

and comes to in Nancy's bathroom. It's Thursday, September 27th, again.

But.

Maybe there's someone else out there going through what he's going through. A tall, freckled woman he's pretty sure he's never seen before and doesn't know anything about, except that she possibly dies in Starcourt Mall on a Friday.

He has to find her.

[amethyst-crowns]

Eddie ft. my closet

day 1: featuring @strangersatellites ‘s fit as Steve

[morganbritton132]

Eddie falls asleep during another live-stream but this time it’s inevitable. He starts the stream laying on the couch with a blanket pulled all the way up under his chin.

Steve’s at work, and Eddie’s alone, and he’s tired. He just wants to talk but eventually he nods off.

Steve comes home like an hour later and putters around the room for a bit as he mutters to himself about how middle schoolers can be so mean sometimes. You don’t get a good view of him until he fusses with Eddie so he can lay on the couch with him.

Steve practically manhandles him until they’re both comfortably on the couch and then promptly falls asleep too. They’re holding hands the entire time.

[spectrum-spectre]

imagining a fic that takes place after El and the rest of the younger party graduate, she decides to go to Beauty School (cosmetology) then Steve realizes "holy shit, that's an option?" and signs up with her. They take turns using Eddie as their hair model, maybe the Sinclairs give them tips about working on Black Hair, just sweet fluff w/ El & Steve bonding <3

[wheatnoodle]

steve and robin dress up as barbie and ken for halloween and don’t even need to discuss it to know robin’s ken and steve’s barbie

[shares-a-vest]

alright, i gotta steddify these new pictures of joe keery. now just imagine an 80's looking combo of the jackets, wide-legged pants and belt as steve reluctantly gets ready to model for an art project.

Steve looks in the mirror and sighs.

He reaches up and picks at the gigantic shoulders of a long black coat Robin had managed to convince him he needed to wear for the sake of their friendship.

Or, whatever art project thing she has to submit for art class before the end of her last semester.

She made it all sound very important. Hence the clearly empty threat about their friendship. She didn't even give any details, just a big bag of clothes that he needed to try out before next weekend. Max and Vickie were in for the same nightmare too.

He doesn't know what this jacket was before his best friend unfortunately found it in a thrift store. He thinks it is supposed to be a raincoat. At least, that's what the tacky (vinyl? leather?) fabric feels like.

A knock on the bathroom door startles him, pulling him away from thoughts of the non-raincoat-slash-jacket and all the jewellery he is yet to dare put on.

The sound makes him jump forward and right into the sink. His chunky belt buckle hits the porcelain and pokes right into his tummy, which is already constrained by the too-tight-at-the-waist pants he'd wrestled into first.

"I'll be out in a minute!" he calls over his shoulder, panicked as he attempts to stifle the whine lingering from his stabby belt buckle.

He pinches his nose with one hand, bracing himself on the vanity with the other. How is he going to explain this to whoever is on the other side of the door!

"Steeevie!" comes Eddie's all too cheerful voice, loud like he is pressed right against the ensuite door.

"Oh no!" he gripes, running his hands through his hair.

Before he can think to block the door (or, come up with an excuse that won't result in Eddie barging in) Eddie barges in.

"Whoa!" he gapes, closing the door and collapsing against it with a hearty thud of his head.

He grumbles and rubs at the self-inflicted owie, mussing his hair.

"It's for Robin's art thing," Steve admits, voice barely above a whisper as he gestures to his outfit, "I don't even know what it is, so don't ask me to explain it."

"Wait," Eddie frowns, "Robin isn't even here?"

He tips his head to the side, now scratching at his bump to the noggin.

Steve sighs, "She wanted me to try everything in case she needs to make adjustments."

"Well, that explains the pile of clothes on the bed, then," Eddie says to the ground, likely now focused on the shiny black ankle boots half a size too small Steve hopes aren't snakeskin.

He belatedly sticks a thumb at the door, not tearing his focus away as he chews at the inside of his cheek. Steve groans, screwing his eye shut.

He thinks he knows where this is headed.

"Who are you to pass up a chance at modelling?" Eddie teases, cutting through a momentary silence and wiggling his brows as he grins.

He lifts himself from his spot with a theatrical kick against the door with an unnecessary amount of force. He tiptoes forward, still grinning like a devilish idiot and leans in so close Steve could kiss his stupidly cute dimples right off his damn face.

Instead, Steve backs right up against the sink, the belt now pulling at the back of his pants.

Eddie reaches forward and tugs at the wide lapels of the jacket-non-raincoat-coat. He feigns smoothing it out as he runs his hands over Steve and up to his shoulders. Steve gulps.

If he is finally going to kiss Eddie Munson, after months of teasing and flirting and standing this damn close, he refuses to let it happen in this stupid get-up. Soulmate's finals project, or not.

Eddie looks him up and down, eyes lustful and cheeky.

"You look nice," he purrs, running his hands over the coat front again.

"The-there's others," he blurts out, stuttering as he resists the urge to push off from the sink and close what little space is left between them, "A - Um... A navy jacket with these, ugh... bedazzled things on the..."

He waves his hand at the non-raincoat. Bedazzled? Really?

"I'd like to see you in that," Eddie teases, eyes going wide – they glisten under the yellow light of Steve's bathroom, "You look good in everything."

Eddie looks down, blushing like that last thought was a little too much. He must catch sight of the gold belt buckle, because he soon drops his hands, pausing before he reaches out to give it a hearty tug too.

He quickly balls up his fists and raises them above his head, sputtering, "And – uh, um... Where did you and Robin find these pieces..."

He trails off, murmuring a questioning "pieces" to himself.

Steve rolls his eyes, "She got them at some thrift store she went to with some of the art girls last weekend."

"And I wasn't invited?" Eddie gasps, clutching a fake set of pearls, "I love a thrift store!"

"Eddie, the art girls say you are scary," he bites back, "And not scary in a fun way. I mean, so they say."

Eddie merely nods, sticking out his bottom lip. He probably isn't listening, considering he usually defends his own honour with a good, long rant about everybody else. So, Steve decides that means it would be best to prattle on like an idiot and really bore his crush to tears about clothes.

"There's a bowtie, a black leather jacket," Eddie hums at that one, "A super sheer shirt that, honestly? Might look good on me. And a pair of really huge pants. You should see the legs on these things– "

He cuts himself off, going wide-eyed as soon as he realises he has in fact, technically invited Eddie to see said wide-legged baggy pants.

He reluctantly looks up to find Eddie smiling and bashful as he bats his pretty lashes.

"I..." Eddie stutters, gesturing nonchalantly in the thickened air between them, "Um, I mean... If you want you can try those on. And if you, y'know need help... If they're so wide... I could..."

Steve grabs his hand and reaches for the bathroom door.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

supernatural fruity four au where whenever they have occasion to tell people they're supernatural they go like 'okay one of us is a vampire, one's a fairy, one's a witch, and one's a werewolf. guess which is which' because everyone literally always guesses that eddie's the vampire, nancys the fairy, robins the witch, and steve's the werewolf, and they think it's fucking hilarious how literally no one ever clocks a single one of them correctly

in actuality, nancys the vampire, steve's the fairy, eddie's the witch, and robins the werewolf

[hawkinsincorrect]

Lucas: Aren’t you a little young for a midlife crisis?

Steve: I mean, I smoke, what? A carton per week? I have the internal organs of a man twice my age. If I make it to my low 70s, I’ll be shocked.

[florallylly]

stobin babysitting erica except it's the three of them creating the most popular girls in school

[bitterhotmess]

[shadowolf188]

Got some more dolls since last post !!

[lavenderstobins]

been thinking about a stobin russian doll AU

[adelacreations]

Re8 au but instead of Lord Billy being the Lady D of the AU, he's the doll of Lord Steve Harrington. The second Lord the Party comes across in trying to find and get Will Byers back. A lone noble recluse with dead parents but a oversized doll that he lovely calls Ladybird. No one knows where the doll came from but some claim it was a gift by his parents to him before their demise.

Max calls the doll, Lady Scissorshands because of the claws that extend when attacking.

In the middle of the overgrown gardens, there lays a grave. Surrounded by potent flowers. When the Party puts the grave stone back together it reads,

William (Billy) Hargrove

1967-1984

"My one true love, you have my heart, my life...nothing could compare to you, my Ladybird."

(Aka Billy was human and a lover of Steve but died due to unknown circumstances. Whether due to the Cadou or his own grief added with his decreasing mental health, Steve created a 9'6ft doll of his lover, that sounded just like him. Behaved as Billy as well. Apart of Steve's cadou is embedded inside the doll)

Inspired by a discord convo about Lies of P that turned into a RE8 au bit. I might draw this if there is any interest