#also i know in the show they end up at reefer ricks while there is still daylight out

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

Steve climbs into the back of Nancy's car with Dustin, trying his best to play off his mood as having slept poorly in the Wheeler's basement, instead of the guilt and sorrow churning inside him. He had been hoping to be able to make excuses to go home for a bit today, away from the group, so he could go to Chrissy's funeral.

Doesn't seem like that will be happening. Not unless he tells them the truth. They're going to the Creel house and Steve can't let them ago without him. Can't let them walk into potential danger if he's not there.

Because Chrissy's already dead. He can't change that. But he can try his damnedest to make sure there's no one else. So, it's more important to him to be there with the living, than at a funeral. Chrissy would agree.

Chrissy would understand.

Right?

Gareth sits through Chrissy's funeral and notes that Steve's not there. No one from the Harrington household is. He doesn't know what to feel about that. All his sorrow has been spent on Chrissy, so all he feels for Steve is anger. What the fuck is more important to Steve right now than being here? For his family. For Chrissy. For him.

He sits next to Jason even though his mom left a spot next to her available for him. He's not suddenly Jason's best friend, but he was told they plan to continue their search immediately after the funeral, and if he sat next to his mom, she wouldn't let him go.

This is how he finds himself at Reefer Ricks, long past the mandated curfew with just Jason, Andy, and Patrick. The others having slowly dropped off the search the closer to night it got.

"Hey," Gareth calls out to Jason before entering the house, "I'm going to go check if Eddie's van is hidden where he usually parks it when he comes out here."

Jason pauses on his way through the door. He looks over his shoulder and gives a nod, "yeah, smart thinking. There should be a flashlight in the back of the car."

Gareth nods back and heads back to the car. It doesn't take long to find the flashlight and soon he's walking down the road. It's not a long walk, about fifteen minutes away is a cluster of trees that Eddie parks at when he comes to get more goods from Rick. Gareth (and their other friends) spent plenty of afternoons waiting in the van for Eddie to return from his 'job', as it were. It does keep the van out of sight of any road, though.

The van is there, and Gareth doesn't like what he sees. The driver side door is open, so he approaches slowly. "Eddie? You in there, Eddie?" he gets no response. He shines the flashlight through the back door's window, smooshing his face against the glass to look in. Once he's sure it's empty of anything, he approaches the open door and examines the front.

The keys are still in the ignition. Door left open and keys still in the ignition paints a story Gareth isn't sure he wants to read. That makes worry curl inside his body. He can't think of a single thing that would make Eddie abandon the van this quickly, too... scared? Worried? to bother to even close the drive door. He climbs in to try and start it but it won't. With the door left open for over 72 hours, the battery is dead.

He pockets the keys and locks up the van. If worse comes to worst, he can return the keys to Wayne.

He's almost back to the house when he hears shouting. He starts running, following the noise, and quickly finds Jason and Patrick on the shore, pulling their shoes off. His gaze flicks out to the lake and catches the sight of what can only be Eddie trying to get the motor of a motorboat started.

Well. Shit.

He doesn't think much more beyond that. He's just acting. He steps on the heels of his shoes to get out of them as quickly as possible and dives into the water. He's only seconds behind Patrick and Jason into the water, slowing to keep pace with them at first.

Gareth grew up in the Harrington swimming pool just like Steve had. Chrissy had. He's never been so glad for that as he is now, as he quits trying to pace himself and takes off, leaving Jason and Patrick behind.

Eddie's swinging the oar around wildly, as if they would stop any of them. He falters in his swinging when his eyes land on Gareth and he breathes out his name, "Gareth?"

One final stroke and Gareth can reach out of the water and grab the side of the boat. He doesn't haul himself aboard, but does haul himself high enough to look up at Eddie. "The police say you did it. Did you?"

Hurt flashes across Eddie's face but he answers, "No."

Gareth nods once, a decision made. Before he can respond though, Jason's caught up and Eddie is turning in the boat to wave the oar uselessly at him.

Clinging to the side of the boat gives Gareth a clear view of Patrick, who has stopped swimming. Jason and Eddie shout at each other as Gareth watches Patrick being to rise out of the water. "What the fucking shit!?"

Gareth doesn't know if Jason turns to look, he's too busy staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Don't look," Eddie says and the boat jostles as Eddie moves suddenly, dropping to his knees in the boat and throwing his hands up to block Gareth's view.

"What the fuck-" Gareth cuts himself off when he hears the snapping of bones. Jason is yelling and Gareth panics, pushes back from the boat, which makes Eddie lean more to block his eyesight, causing Eddie to fall out of the boat. On instinct, Gareth dives for him, the month and month spent in Steve's pool, hearing about pool safety kicking in.

Eddie doesn't really need rescuing, but he doesn't fight Gareth during the rescue. Patrick is no longer in the air when they breach the surface, and Jason is swimming back the way they came. Eddie flops himself back into the boat, then helps Gareth in as well.

They don't speak again until they've reached the other shore, in which case they just sit in the boat, soaked through, panting at each other as the adrenaline fades.

"What the fuck was that!?" Gareth doesn't shriek. He doesn't.

Eddie suddenly looks very severe and grim when he says, "that's what killed Chrissy."

#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #my fic #also i know in the show they end up at reefer ricks while there is still daylight out #his house was NOT big enough for them to search it until dark #so they just spend all day at all the other places before getting out to ricks at night #ok? ok #also why isn't gareth weighed down by his nice funeral clothes you may be asking #itself because he wore his nicest dark jeans and a black tshirt #not even chrissy could get him to dress up #short steve part‚ mostly just wanted to establish why he doesn't go to the funeral

[cooliestghouliest]

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. one

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: absent dads and mean moms. brief mention of self-destructive tendencies (way more about that later). your brother's a total cockblock. long-winded parental background information. this is really just some stage setting before we get into the nitty gritty.

A/N: this is my favorite fic i've ever written, and now it's coming at you re-edited. it's my verbose word child, sprinkled with a few What The Fuck and Holy Shit moments, dolled up with some silly humor and a dose of hot (and often borderline depraved) smut. a lot's already planned for this, so i hope you enjoy. :-)

—

chapter title: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

You weren’t expecting the high pitch of the doorbell that sounded throughout your colonial-style home, and proof of that was now spilled all over the kitchen floor.

Tiny green buds were sprinkled across the white-and-black linoleum tile, some scattered in the blonde mess of curls that belonged to the boy kneeling before you, his mouth busy between your legs.

You’d been attempting to multitask, rolling a joint while twisted awkwardly at the dining table, the quarterback’s head shrouded by your bare thighs, lapping noisily at your wet center.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh at the spillage, but it quickly turned into a moan when goldilocks gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit.

“You needa get that?” he mumbled against your folds, tongue halting its assault only to speak before diving back in, showing no intention of stopping.

You shook your head, one hand moving to tangle in the his hair, the other crumbling up the now empty and useless rolling paper. “Uh-uh… prob’ly just some Mormons,” you answer, beginning to rock your hips up into the warm mouth covering your cunt. “I don’t wanna be saved.”

Chris… or Carl… or Craig… whatever his name was, laughed, the sound vibrating nicely against your heat. Your toes curled at the sensation, thighs wrapping tight around his ears.

He moaned appreciatively at your movement, running his tongue flat against the length of your opening. Maybe you could keep this one around. He liked New Kids on the Block unironically, but holy shit, he knew what to do with his mouth.

The bell rang again.

And then again, and again, and again.

“Oh, little seeeee-eeee-ster!” came a familiar male voice from the other side of the front door. “I know you’re in there, Bean. I can see your shadow in the kitchen!”

You shot up straight, aligning your posture and pulling Chris Carl Craig from between your legs by the grip you had in his hair. He gave an unappealing whine, his fingers moving up to console his scalp.

Standing quickly, you adjusted your pleated skirt so it fell normal again, just above your knees. “Up, up, up,” you impatiently urged the jock still kneeling on the ground, smoothing your clothing and hair to make sure nothing looked too out of place.

“Who is that?” the blonde asked, finally following you into a standing position, large hand still cradling his head. “Still the Mormons?”

“It was never Mormons, Chet,” you said, hoping your shot-in-the-dark guess at his name was right.

It wasn’t.

“It’s Chad,” he said, eyes beginning to narrow. Whether it was in suspicion, confusion, annoyance, or a combination of all three, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. You needed to get him out of here without your new visitor catching sight of him, or else you knew you’d never hear the end of it. Chad was still intent on conversing, though. “We’ve literally been in the same school district since, like, kindergarten.”

You bit your lower lip, offering a sheepish smile. “Right,” you said. “I know that.” You didn’t. “Sorry. Head’s a little loopy right now. Your tongue could win awards.”

With Chad’s newfound cocky grin, you knew the flattery angle had worked out. It usually did. Boys were such suckers for some ego stroking.

“Oh, fuckin’ right!” you heard from the front door, the visitor’s voice now cheerful. The door handle began to jangle, and you heard the sound of a key in the lock.

He must have found the spare. Of course he had. He’d only lived here his entire childhood, just like you.

The key had been in the same place it always had been since moving to Fresno -- under the coir doormat that read Definitely Not a Trap Door, courtesy of your father. He’d made it for the family after moving from Chicago to California for his new teaching position at CSU in ‘70. Your mom still hadn't gotten around to throwing it out, even though she’d managed to get rid of almost everything else inside the home that reminded her of her ex-husband.

The door swung open and there stood your older brother in all his punk rock, Fuck-the-Bourgeoisie glory. Short bleached blonde hair, numerous facial piercings, ripped Dead Kennedys t-shirt, tight red tartan pants, muddy black Doc Martens. He was smiling wide, dopey.

Fuckin' Rick.

You started to match his expression, unable to resist your brother’s effortless and childlike charm, but your smile fell flat when Rick’s now disapproving gaze landed on the blonde still standing at your side.

“A Letterman, Bean? Really?” Rick asked you incredulously, having spotted Chad’s football jacket as the jock in question slid it from its place on the kitchen chair to rest over his broad shoulder.

“What?” you asked Rick coyly, quickly eyeing Chad. “You know I don’t discriminate. I’m a true equal opportunist.”

Chad seemed oblivious to the underlying context of the conversation between the pair of siblings. He was watching the two of you interact with seemingly nothing behind his eyes.

God, so cute but so totally stupid.

You closed the distance between the two of you, Chad looking hopeful he was going to be kissed or something, but you instead reached your hand out to pluck a few pieces of weed from his hair. “You can go now,” you told him, finger tapping his nose lightly.

Chad’s face scrunched at your touch but he then shrugged it off, picking his backpack up off the kitchen floor before making his way to the front door. “See ya at school,” he said to you over his shoulder. Stopping briefly next to your brother, Chad assessed him before saying, “Um, bye, whoever you are.”

Rick pulled his lips into a tight line, raising his brows in amusement. He clapped his hand hard on Chad’s back a few times before pushing the footballer out the door. “Later, loverboy.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour and a half later, you and Rick were seated on opposite ends of the tufted tuxedo sofa in the living room. A box of half-eaten extra cheese pizza laid open in between the two of you.

Some low budget horror VHS was playing on the TV across from the couch, the volume low. You thought it was called Ghoulies. You kept catching glances of tiny, ugly wet looking monsters scurrying on the screen out of your peripheral.

You’d been talking to Rick about senior year at Fresno Central High (you said you were doing great, straight A’s across the board, but in reality, you were failing everything but English and Music).

You'd been talking about work at Spins and Needles, the record store you’d been employed at for a little over two years now (you told him you’d gotten promoted to Assistant Manager, which was true, but you left out the fact that you were on Strike Two of Three for blowing off shifts to get high with some goth kids that routinely came in a few hours before closing).

And you'd been talking about your mom (this you were honest about – “She’s still a huge bitch, Rick, that hasn’t changed”).

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

That’s where you stopped him.

You were not going to talk about your dad.

Flipping the pizza box lid shut harshly, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Why are you really here?” you demanded.

Rick sighed, defeated.

He knew you’d catch on soon enough that this supposed innocent visit was actually a planned mission. He’d just been hoping maybe you’d be the one to breach the topic of going back to Indiana with him. Maybe you wanted out of this Californian hellhole. A chance at a fresh start, hundreds of miles away.

But he knew you recently had developed a penchant for self-destruction and self-catastrophizing, which meant getting you to see the bright side and the positives of his request was going to be near impossible.

Still, he had to try.

“Mom called me,” he admitted, which earned him a dramatic eye roll from you. “I know you’re failing your classes. I know your boss has been blowing up the landline wondering why you keep closing up shop so early. And I know mom’s a bitch. I’m trying to save you from her. She said she’s thinking of enrolling you into St. Mary’s.” Rick wasn’t surprised at the bewildered scoff you gave to that, St. Mary’s being Indiana’s notorious Catholic boarding school for wayward girls. He’d finally gotten to the point, the real reason he was there: “Come stay with me in Hawkins, Bean.”

“Wow, Rick, so noble. It only took you, what, ten years to come back for me?”

Rick couldn’t help but flinch, your wounding words accusing. And accurate.

It was true.

Rick, at twenty, had left Fresno in an old RV he’d bought for dirt cheap, with plans to travel the country and get the fuck away from his parents, Ronald and Maureen Lipton.

Or, away from his mother, really.

Ron Lipton was generally fine -- until a certain point in his life. To outsiders, the man seemed to be very happy and very put-together, successfully established in both his home life and his career.

Ron and Maureen had gotten married just a few short months following their high school graduation, after finding out Maureen was pregnant with Rick.

With the draft ever present, Ron enlisted in the army, while Maureen enlisted the help of her mother-in-law to take care of Rick (and eventually you, once you were born, conceived on one of Ron’s short stints back home), so she could work on her doctorate in psychiatry.

After being honorably discharged a handful of years later, Ron had gotten his Master’s degree in education and creative writing.

To the public, Ronald and Maureen Lipton were fantastic at keeping up the facade of Perfect Suburban Family.

In private, however, the Lipton household was like living in a layer of Hell.

Where Ron was imaginative and endlessly inquisitive, instilling a love of storytelling and curiosity in his children, Maureen was passive aggressive and judgemental, harboring jealousy for the relationship her children had with her husband. This eventually festered a spiteful dynamic between her and Ron, and between her and her offspring as well.

When the two of you were younger, Rick in his late teens and you in your last years of elementary school, one of your favorite backyard games was to wonder aloud to each other how and why your parents had ever even gotten together in the first place.

You were both sure that it must have been an arranged marriage of some sorts.

Rick thought maybe your grandparents had made a deal with the devil, and to ensure the safety of the family, Ronald and Maureen were forced to be betrothed for life.

You thought maybe Maureen was an evil sorceress who had cast a spell on your father, trapping him in a loveless marriage that he was an unsuspecting victim in.

The truth was not stranger than fiction.

The reason behind their nuptials was simple, really: Ronald was raised to believe he needed to provide for his family, and after having knocked Maureen up not only once but twice, he was resigned to the fact that this was his path in life.

Devoted father, loving husband.

While he couldn’t stand his wife, her harshness and indignation usurping any positive characteristics she may have once had, Ron did love his children. Dearly.

Rick was his wild child; his rebellious, rambunctious trouble maker.

Ron would sit on the front porch late at night, waiting for Rick to get home and tell him all about his latest escapades. What parties he’d gone to, what girls he’d kissed, whether he preferred the high from acid or mushrooms more. Ron lived vicariously through his son, encouraging the boy to play hard, but to play hard responsibly.

You were Ron’s Little Leia of Alderaan; his opinionated, open-minded warrior, brave enough to stand up to any bully who’d dare to make fun of you or your friends. You were Ron’s daydreamer, his whimsical muse, his daily reminder that there was still innocent softness in this cruel world.

You would have Daddy Daughter Dates twice a week, where you’d do things like go to the roller rink or have picnics in the park, and they always ended with a two scoop mint chocolate chip ice cream cone shared between the both of you.

But Ron’s love for his life dwindled the second he stepped foot inside his house -- where he was forced to occupy space with his resentful excuse of a wife, a woman who would never miss a beat to berate him for every choice he’d ever made in his life.

With your older brother gone, the squabbles between Ron and Maureen got worse.

Rick had been able to placate his father and put himself in the line of Maureen’s fire, taking her verbal hits so his father didn’t have to. You, being only ten when Rick had left, didn’t have much ground to stand on with your parents arguing, and trying to step in as Rick had would usually only make things escalate.

Ron fantasized about leaving, starting over anew. The immediate and resounding “no” that his subconscious always answered himself with, thinking of the kids, dwindled down over time, until all of his fantasizing led him to making actual plans of departure.

Last year, right before summer break was set to start, Ron finally left.

Having taken PTO from the campus, he’d waited that morning for Maureen to leave for work and for you to be on the bus to school. Alone, he took the time to pack all of his belongings, leaving only a few things behind, all with you in mind -- things to remind you of him in his absence. He’d intended on coming back for you as soon as possible, wanting to settle in somewhere before dragging his daughter into his uprooted life.

But it was over a year now that Ron had been gone, and you could count on one hand the amount of times he’d reached out to you.

You could count them on two fingers, actually.

The first time was the night after he’d left, when he’d tried explaining to you his reasoning, which you weren’t at all interested in hearing. You were beside yourself that he’d left you, just like Rick had, except Rick was your brother and that was normal, but Ron was your daddy and he was supposed to always be there.

Your mother, in anger that Ron would attempt to talk to you and not her, had disconnected the call, and while you waited by the phone all night for him to call back, he never did.

The second and last time he reached out was a few months ago, via letter for your 18th birthday. It was postmarked with an address in Fort Worth, Texas. When you’d tried writing back, you'd found the letter you'd sent in your mailbox a week later, marked Return to Sender.

It was mid-November now, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

At least Rick had kept in touch after he’d left.

He’d sent you care packages every month since arriving to Indiana in '81. They were full of sci-fi and horror books he’d found at the local Goodwill or Salvation Army, newspaper clippings for outlandish Classified segments, scribbled notes on stained notebook paper detailing concerts he’d gone to and new bands he thought you should check out.

Remembering this, you softened quickly after accusing Rick of abandoning, your biting comment causing guilt to swirl in your stomach.

Rick had his reasons to leave, you understood that. He was allowed to live his life. And even though he’d done just that, left and lived his life, he still always managed to keep tabs on you. The two of you hadn’t gone more than a few weeks without letters sent or parcels mailed back and forth since he’d first left home.

Never there, but never gone. Not really.

That was more than you could say for your father.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” you admitted, even though the hurt words you spoke did hold some kernel of truth. “It’s just… I don’t wanna have to start all over somewhere else.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Rick promised, choosing to let the accusation of his abandonment slide. He was sure you'd both get into it more later, considering it was a conversation that was long overdue. “The house is too big for just me anyway, and you know I’m fuckin’ shit at decorating. I’ve basically just been using beer cans for bookends and stuff like that – you could make it look way cozier.”

You laughed, sure your brother wasn’t exaggerating.

Rick was about as anti-capitalist as you could get, and that included being a minimalist when it came to possessions. Give the man a hand-me-down couch, a little TV, some weed, his cassettes, and a subscription to Playboy, and he’d be content for the rest of his life.

You were the opposite.

You loved things.

You had many different collections you’d amassed over the years -- your vast assortment of books had spilled from the two bookshelves in your room to several stacks littered throughout the house, much to your mother's annoyance; your vinyls were shoved into four big storage bins stacked under your octagonal bedroom window, which you draped a blanket over and used as a makeshift window seat nook; your cliques of creepy looking dolls you’d collected from estate sales and antique shops crowded your bed, your vanity, the storage shelf in your closet; the bug assemblages you’d been adding to since your childhood had their own corner of your room, little homes full of ladybugs, ants, and deathwatch beetles.

The idea that you could expand your knack for interior embellishing (hoarding, really) further than the confines of one room was one thing that made you start to consider taking Rick’s offer seriously.

That, and the realization that finally getting the fuck out of Fresno might not be such a bad idea.

Because what did you have there anymore, anyway? Shit grades? A handful of mean exes? A dead-end job?

Was any of that worth staying for?

You thought of your dad trying to reach out to you via telephone, imagined your mother answering and telling him you’d moved away and no longer lived there.

If it were only a few months since Ron had left, you didn’t think you would have gone with Rick back to Hawkins. You would have stayed just for the mere possibility that your dad would show up on the doorstep one day, begging for your forgiveness for leaving you alone with your coldhearted mother.

However, it was over a year now that he’d been gone. One year, four months, and fifteen days... if anyone was counting.

You’d never verbally admit it, but you still were.

There was a page hidden in the back of your diary where you kept track.

Your hopefulness was starting to make you sick.

Maybe a change wouldn’t be so bad.

Going back to Hawkins with Rick sure beat being forced to attend an all girls’ reformatory school, one with a reputation that claimed the headmaster performed shock therapy on students in lieu of giving them detentions.

You were sure that was just a rumor, but still. You didn’t want to take any chances.

“Bean, let me be there for you,” Rick said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his fingers. You noted his nails were painted a lime green. “It��ll be just like when we were kids, except now you’re older and actually cool so I won’t be embarrassed to introduce you to all my friends.” Dipping his head to the side, he wiggled his pierced brows, a grin toying on his lips as he added, “And we can smoke weed in the house.”

Pretending as if that alone was what sealed the deal, you stood swiftly. “Say less. You really should’ve started with that, Richard.” You headed off in the direction of the stairs that led up to your room, glancing over your shoulder at your brother who was staring off after you with a relieved countenance on his face. “Gimme an hour and then we can go?”

Rick answered with two thumbs up before grabbing a slice of pizza, shoving as much as he could of it into his mouth as you disappeared up the spiral staircase.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy x reader #billy x you #mungrove x reader #mungrove #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

[chirpsythismorning]

Rick Conroy's Recent Rentals:

Teen Wolf (1/2/3)

As a refresher, this is a shot from 4x02: Vecna's Curse. Robin, Max, Dustin and Steve are using the video store's database to look through the most recent rentals of all the Ricks in town as hints for which one Reefer Rick is, so that they can get his address and track down Eddie.

Unfortunately for them, this selection here from Rick Conroy didn't give off 'reefer' vibes and so they moved on to the next one.

However, luckily for us, this could very well have been hinting at events that are either already happening in s4, or are perhaps still yet to fully come to fruition in s5.

2. Teen Wolf (1985)

This is easy/hard because although it could be fairly simple, it could also be complex, to the point where it may very well go even further than this film. So I guess I'll just humor the implications, both simple and complex, because why not.

The entire plot of Teen Wolf revolves around a protagonist who is tired of being average, only to find out that he's actually the opposite of average: a frickin' werewolf.

There are a lot of possibilities for where elements of this film could align with certain concepts in the show. I even feel like it could be related to a specific arc on the most basic level (ie. Sixteen Candles = Birthdaygate).

Ironically, something I also noticed related to this, is that in the same episode we get the Rick selection with Teen Wolf, we also see the poster for it in the exact same spot as the Sixteen Candles poster was at the end of s3. We even see the letters ARC(ADE) in the right corner of the frame for both (probably just a coincidence, but a cool one at that).

Notice the pole going straight through the Teen Wolf poster here? More on that later...

Initially, I was going to just associate this film with the storyline related to the basketball team, because we do see a prominent arc related to basketball in s4, and so that felt like an easy way to pinpoint that reference?

However, I did feel sort of inclined to dig deeper, and this is because the other two films from this specific Rick selection connects to Will's character more than any of the other characters arguably.

Basically, after being stumped with the Teen Wolf mention, and intending to just stick with the simplicity of how the reference could apply to s4, I moved on to Romancing the Stone, only to find out it screamed Will, and so a part of me began wondering if it could be more complex than it seems when it comes to this reference.

And so, what exactly would Teen Wolf (1985) have to do with Will and his present/future arc, assuming that these three movies are indeed related to his character?...

Well, Twelvegate.

Just take a look at the film's slogan at the top of the movie poster:

He always wanted to be special. But he never expected this!

Upon rewatching this scene I also noticed there are twelve Ricks total...

As many of you probably know, there has been a decent amount of imagery with Will's blocking being obstructed by rods/poles/stakes, etc. (ie. Phineas Gage). So the fact that a pole interferes with the poster for TW could also be intentional in its attempt to give it some association to Will.

Here are the several other shots we get of the TW poster in this same episode:

I remember so much discourse about how this shot above was foreshadowing Max's confrontation with Vecna, which I do still fully believe to be the case. However, now I'm also rethinking about how that claw representing Venca looks just a little too aligned with the TW poster to not at least be a little bit intentional...

Look at Dustin and Max's bikes! They're blue/yellow directly in front of the poster!

And that's that on that!!

Though, if I’m being honest, this all still felt a little too simple to me.

The poster with Michael J. Fox opening up his shirt to reveal the title Teen Wolf also reminded me of the official reveal that Vecna was 001? Where the UD vines sort of scatter to reveal the number on his wrist...?

While it could be relevant as a potential hint for Will only now discovering as a teen that he has powers/is connected to the lab, similar to the protagonist of Teen Wolf only now discovering as a teen that he is a werewolf, I still want to try to take it another step further.

Now, going back to the basketball plot in s4, because I do think there still could be some connections between the show and the basketball theme in the film, is that there's actually a really layered connection to Teen Wolf going on here. And it has very me intrigued.

Although, this connection can be easily overlooked, as it's not related to the 1985 version, but actually the 2011 drama series, loosely based on the 1985 version, which goes by the same name...

As it turns out, Mason Dye’s most notable role before he was cast as Jason Carver in s4 of Stranger Things, was his role as Garrett in s4 of Teen Wolf.

So I guess the casting department decided to typecast tf out of Mason, by giving him the role of a character in a storyline potentially inspired by elements from the movie Teen Wolf? A role which also happens to be almost identical to his role in the series Teen Wolf?

Jason Carver character description in Stranger Things: popular basketball player ends up hunting down Hellfire Club (ALSO peep his #12 jersey... yep.)

Garrett character description in Teen Wolf: popular lacrosse player ends up hunting down Scott's pack

This also reminded me of the Duffer's talking about the casting of Amybeth McNulty. For those who don't know, Amybeth starred in Anne with an E (2017-2019), which is a drama series based on the book Anne of Green Gables (1908). There's also a well known TV mini-series based on said book which came out in 1985. After casting for Vickie was announced, the Duffers revealed that they were fans of the AOGG book and the mini series as kids (which is why the book was referenced in the show a few times), but also made a point to add that they were big fans of AWAE.

This is interesting to me because I feel like TW and AWAE are the kind of shows that have a bad rep (mostly deserved for TW atp), but specifically because of how they present themselves on the surface?

Werewolf teens and a talkative red-haired girl in braids don't exactly scream quality TV to most people? Which like, fair enough. Not to mention, both adaptations were based on stories that were very popular in the 80's, being modernized for future audiences. And so a lot of people hated them for that reason alone, without even giving them a second glance.

However, within the context of the Duffers, who are well known film nerds, who literally watch anything and everything under the sun, I think it's possible (and even likely) they watched Teen Wolf the series.

Arguably, TW's most impressive narrative moments come from season 3b. Which interestingly enough brings us back to the main focus I had for this post, which is how exactly this could all relate to Will.

Answer?

Will being possessed by the Mind Flayer is EXTREMELY void-Stiles coded:

Void-Stiles is easily recognized as one of the strongest arcs in the entire series, and for good reason. S3b season truly tested the limits of Dylan O'Brien's talent, along with a lot of other elements in the show just really hitting the mark that season. The story-building, the vibes, and the acting from the cast overall was pretty good, making it well regarded as a fan favorite (sound familiar?).

At first it starts with Stiles sacrificing himself, essentially dying for a short period of time, only to come back to life, but to have also left a door open in his mind. This door (ajar) makes Stiles vulnerable to the Nogitsune (an evil spirit that feeds off of chaos, strife and pain), who of course takes advantage and attaches to Stiles.

Slowly, Stiles starts experiencing an inability to focus, sleepwalking, vivid dreams during the day, while also not being able to tell the difference between dreams and reality. Eventually this leads to the Nogitsune gaining control, who then starts to have more influence on Stiles' behavior, leading him to trick his loved ones around him into believing that it's him by acting like Stiles at times, when really it's the Nogitsune. He uses Stiles' body as a vessel to wreak havoc on the town of Beacon Hills, but also specifically Stiles friends/family.

He even goes as far as to make Stiles do things like twist a sword into his best friends chest, then finally detaches himself from Stiles' body only to in that very same moment kidnap Lydia (his love interest), and ending in a battle with him orchestrating the attempted murder of an entire floor of a hospital, along with successfully killing a beloved main character.

While I do think it's possible we could see some similarities between these storylines here (we arguably already have), something I realized a while back when researching for birthdaygate, was that it did remind me a great deal of Stiles' arc in s6a of TW.

What makes this arc kind of ironic in the context of this post, is that there are some parallels to Back to the Future...

Basically everyone forgets Stiles existed, to the point where he's completely erased from reality, including photographs (Back to the Future reference). Other details about him, like his name and his connection to the people around him, is what plays a big part in his return (including radios being used between realms to communicate with him... yep).

As it's happening, Stiles starts going up to everyone he knows, first casual friends, and slowly down the line to people that mean the most to him. Suddenly his best friend doesn't know him, then his dad, finally the only person left who remembers him is Lydia, only for him to be taken and for everyone to forget (including Lydia). And this was basically the big cliffhanger that closed off the first episode of the season, with it being a guiding force to them getting Stiles back in the following episodes.

Now, I just want to make it clear that I do NOT think that this is how s5 is going to play out, like barely, if at all.

My main purpose for this post was to look at the simple and complex in relation to this reference and how it could relate to what is to come, in any shape/form.

Like, we know they draw a lot of inspiration from Star Wars and Lord of the Rings (along with 100+ films and more). And yet still, that doesn't mean we're expecting the show to play out exactly like it does in those stories.

What we're expecting is some inspiration & parallels.

S5 is said to be drawing a lot of inspiration from s1-2, which are two seasons most tied to Wills disappearance and possession.

Clearly in the case of this reference, there are A LOT of possibilities for what this could be hinting at related to Will's arc in particular.

I'm excited, but also terrified to find out what...!

#byler #stranger things #movie inspo #twelvegate #teen wolf (1985) #teen wolf (2011) #ALSO I love how Michael J Fox is just chilling in all these layered references going on here related to Will #just wait until we get to romancing the stone... #also I have a theory that the duffers were big tw stans pre-downfall #that it plays a small part in why they insist on not going past 5 seasonns... bc they don't want their show to go downhill either #they've seen tw and dozens of other shows go from impressive to unwatchable #TW has gotta be the biggest example of this in recent years #i'm not even talking unliked endings #i'm talking UNWATCHABLE endings #i feel like the duffers set themselves apart bc as time went on they actually clued their cast in on the overall series arcs/plans/ending #which made it easier for the cast to stay as opposed to leaving around s3/4 #with the creator of teen wolf he kind of is just allowing the show to go on forever and ever #and so he's sort of been forced to work around the casts desire to even continue participating #and so ever since they lost the bulk of their cast but especially dylan obrien (the heart of the show) #it just become unwatchable #like imagine ST losing gaten but just continuing to roll out new seasons??? #i don't want to imagine it. it would suck. it simply wouldn't be stranger things anymore #and that's also why i think the duffers refuse to kill of their mains for shock value #bc everyone knows the less og characters you have as the seasons go on #the more the show becomes a shell of its former self and what used to make it so good in the first place: #it's fucking characters #i can guarantee you after s5 that this is the end of these characters story forever... #and i'll be fine with that!

[irrelevantwriter]

Reputations

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW (later chapters will contain smut and will be tagged accordingly)

Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use, use of the word freak and slut, a boy with soft brown eyes attempting to flirt (hell yeah)

Word Count: 1662

Summary: Part 1. You and Eddie connect at a party.

A/N: Here’s a series! (as I continuously say I’m not a series writer) It’s the first in my Flattery Will Get You Everywhere series. This is meant to be cute and fluffy and very smutty towards the end (chapters will be tagged accordingly if that’s something you’d be interested in skipping), and it’s meant to show the progression of a relationship between the reader and Eddie. A courtship if you will. The reader has most definitely got confident bitch vibes while Eddie is just being his normal brand of awkward. Add in all the cutesy shit that comes with liking someone and we've got a good fucking time. I hope you guys like it. There are currently seven chapters so be on the look out for those. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗

Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.

*Check out my other Eddie fics here

*Find future chapters here

***********************

You laughed at something one of your friends said, eyes scanning the crowd as the music got louder. Thick plumes of smoke hung in the air, the scent of weed and cigarettes mixing with the array of cheap perfumes and colognes.

Reefer Rick was having a party. His gatherings were known to be epic, usually busted up by the cops early into the morning.

People crowded into his small house while others stuck to the outside near the lake. The house was secluded enough from Hawkins proper and everyone took advantage. The speakers boomed with Ratt’s Round and Round as people took shots and lit up joints, the night just beginning.

You sipped from your beer and watched as Eddie Munson walked in. He greeted Reefer Rick, immediately popping open a beer upon his arrival and downing most of it. You watched the way he animatedly spoke, hands waving in his face as he described some kind of harrowing tale. Least that’s what it looked like to you.

“See something you like?”

You jerked your eyes back to your friends, rolling your eyes as they caught who you’d been staring at.

“Munson? Not really your type,” Brenda added with a dubious arch of her brow.

You shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not cute,” you stated matter-of-fact, not at all put off by their teasing.

“He’s got a nice ass,” Rachel spoke up, her green eyes zeroing on said asset from across the room.

You joined her, unable to deny her statement. Munson did have a nice ass.

“He's a little too sweet for you, no?” Melanie asked, already knowing the answer.

You all had a type. And a reputation around Hawkins. You were the girls mothers warned their sons about. You were fast and loose, according to local gossip. You were involved in drugs, sex and rock n roll; all sins in the eyes of the townspeople. Most of the rumors weren’t true. But some were. You did like to party. And you did like drugs. And you did date men who scared most of the population. But you’d also graduated top ten in your class. And worked a part-time job. And still took classes at the local community college.

You just liked to have fun.

Lots of fun.

“Is he? Isn’t he like a devil-worshipper or something?” you asked the group of girls, not entirely expecting an answer. It wasn’t like you bought into that shit anyway.

“Supposedly,” Brenda said, giggling as her boyfriend saddled up behind her and began kissing her neck.

For the moment, Eddie Munson was forgotten as your beers were replenished and a joint was passed around.

*******************************

Eddie sat perched on the edge of Reefer Rick’s railing outside his house, eyes taking in the view. It wasn’t the lake he was observing. It was the people. One in particular.

He watched as you took a long pull of the joint that was passed to you, your red lips staining the paper. You laughed at something one of your friends said, your breasts bouncing with the motion. He felt like a pervert in the shadows, but no matter how many times he looked away, his eyes always came back to you.

He’d known you when you’d been at Hawkins High. Had seen you around. Was as aware of your reputation as you were his. He was the freak. You were the slut. If he had to take a guess though, that was about as true as him being a vessel for Satan. It was all local gossip. And like him, you seemed to revel in the silliness of it all. Instead of spending your time defending yourself, you lived as if you were unaware. Maybe even encouraging the outlandish rumors.

He admired that about you. Not most had such thick skin for shit like that. Especially in high school. But you did. And you betted on people underestimating you. It gave you a chance to prove them wrong. But that's where you both differed. Because Eddie really didn’t give a shit. As long as he had D&D, his band, and his van, he was good.

He had just taken his eyes off you for what felt like the thousandth time, when suddenly you appeared in front of him. All tight denim and black cotton. You wore an Ozzy Osborne band tee, the front tied around your waist so that he could see a sliver of stomach. Your jeans were tighter than any piece of clothing he’d ever seen. And you were slightly elevated in height by the black slouchy boots that adorned your feet.

You were about as close to a real life wet dream as he could get and he silently thanked the rock gods that they blessed him with such an image.

“Hey, can I bum one off you?”

Eddie’s expression was dumbfounded, confused by your question until he realized he’d taken out his cigarettes.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Here,” he held the open pack to you, your deep red nails picking one from the group. You slipped the stick between your lips, the crimson shade transferring to the paper just like it’d done with the joint from earlier.

“Light?”

“Shit,” he cursed, fumbling for his lighter. He found the silver square and hastily flicked it open, the orange lame framing your face in a warm glow.

You very purposefully grabbed his hand and held it as you inched your cigarette and the light together, smoke immediately coming off the end as it caught. He noticed that you didn’t let him go right away.

“Thanks…Eddie, right?”

He pocketed his lighter after lighting his own cigarette, desperately needing to keep his hands busy. He nodded and sucked in a lungful of nicotine, thankful for the instant wave of relaxation that came with it.

“I’m-,”

“I know who you are,” he interrupted, lips upturned into a smirk.

You caught the action and laughed.

“Our reputations precede us,” you joked, hip now leaning near his thigh against the railing.

He pretended not to notice how close you’d gotten.

“A match made in hell,” he quipped, seeing your lips break out into a smile as you laughed.

You thought he was funny. And that notion made him a hell of a lot more nervous.

“You’re in that club, right? Hellfire?”

He tried as hard as he could to appear nonchalant. The fact that you were asking him about Hellfire was surreal as fuck. Not that he hid his association with the club. He owned that shit. He was just never sure about who was paying attention. Turns out, you were.

“Yeah. It’s a D&D club,” he supplied, blowing out his own stream of smoke as he puffed his cigarette.

“D&D?”

You looked confused, your nose wrinkled and your brows furrowed. It was adorable as shit.

“Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh…the game they’re always talking about on the news,” you said with a nod, the pieces finally coming together.

“That’s the one.”

“So you definitely summon Satan, drink blood, and make virgin sacrifices,” you teased, the playfulness in your voice apparent.

Eddie laughed and nodded, willing to play along.

“Only on Thursday’s.”

“Ah, I see. Very metal of you,” you replied, your eyes holding all the humor.

“I thought so.”

You adjusted your position next to him, a smile still playing on your lips. You now faced the water, arms propped on the railing as you continued to smoke. He took a moment to ash out his cigarette, no longer interested in the nicotine. He needed something stronger.

“And what about you? Is everything they say true?” he dared to ask. He felt like he could. Like you both were already bonded by being society’s outcasts.

You paused before you answered, taking your time in sucking in smoke and then letting it dance off your red-stained pout. When you finally met his eyes, you leaned in close. Close enough that he could smell your perfume.

“Every bit of it,” you whispered with a straight face.

A handful of seconds passed before you were both breaking into laughter.

“All of it?” he asked with faux shock, placing a hand over his chest, pretending to be scandalized.

“All of it.”

“Even the part about Mr. Dennison in study hall?”

“Especially that part,” you giggled, straightening to your full height.

Somewhere in the distance a series of applause and thunderous cheers erupted. Someone must’ve been playing a drinking game. It cut through the lighthearted moment.

You both settled back into silence, eyes focused on different things. You watched the lake. He watched you.

“None of it’s true,” you admitted softly, eyes not moving from the water.

“It rarely is, sweetheart,” he sighed, seeing the momentary sadness dance across your features before it was wiped away.

“You’re alright, Munson,” you said with a gentle smile, bumping his leg with your hip.

He pretended he didn’t die at the feel of you so close. He pretended it didn’t resonate with him at all.

“Yeah, sure. Bum a cigarette and then use flattery,” he teased with an over exaggerated eye roll.

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

You had just opened your mouth to say more when your name being called from across the room interrupted the moment. You turned and acknowledged the girl calling you, holding up a finger to signal you’d be over in a minute.

Eddie felt a sudden wave of disappointment at your inevitable departure. He cleared his throat while you took one last inhale of your cigarette before trashing it in a beer bottle nearby.

“I gotta go,” you gestured behind you to your friends and he nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks for the cigarette. And the conversation. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a scoff as you began to slowly back away towards the house.

“I’ll see you Thursday for the blood sacrifice?”

“I’ll save you a seat.”

And with that, you were gone.

He needed a fucking shot.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things

[watercoloredlie]

So I read Flight of Icarus and it wasn’t that bad.

I love that Eddie got his love for music from his mom. She sounded like a cool lady gone too soon. It’s cute that he shares her initials.

Al Munson can rot.

Wayne should be protected at all costs. I hate how people lump all the Munsons together when Al is the only real bad one. Wayne always had Eddie’s back and I love that.

Higgins can rot too. I hate that stereotype of the jocks getting away with bullying while their victims get in trouble.

Bev is cool for the most part. I didn’t mind the idea of Eddie also working at the Hideout.

It was cool to get a glimpse of another Hellfire campaign with Eddie as DM. Also kind of cool to get a glimpse of earlier versions of the characters we saw on the show.

Ronnie was cool. I can see why she and Eddie were compared to Robin and Steve. Love that Granny Ecker was cool with Eddie too. At least until he upset Ronnie. It was cool to see Ronnie not backing down to the bullies.

Paige. I expected her to be terrible given everyone’s reactions to her, but she really isn’t that bad. Eddie was his cute dorky self with her. I was surprised that she bailed him out after their argument though. It’s funny that people think Eddie was a virgin with no game. Man had Chrissy skipping up to his doorway. He had her smitten with him in the woods. But I digress.

Chrissy my love. She was so badass standing up for Gareth and Eddie. This book just made me love her more. I loved the flashback to the night of the talent show. She and Eddie were adorable.

Reefer Rick was pretty much just how I had headcanoned him.

Eddie meeting the Byers boys and protecting Will was awesome. I love that Will got the first invite to Hellfire. I wish Eddie knew how the boys didn’t want to play DnD with Will in season three. Oh he would have reamed them out.

I appreciate the Warners for being welcoming to Eddie. Props to Mr. Warner for calling Wayne a good guy. Sure, Eddie had to downplay stuff a bit, but it was nice to see a family like Paige’s not immediately brush off Eddie as no good.

Eddie deserved to live and to graduate. This book just made it clear how even more unfair it was that his storyline ended the way it did. There was a lot of foreshadowing to it in the book too.

It was also pretty cool to see Corroded Coffin band moments. I still think Dougie is the unnamed member of the band since they did say their rehearsal space was in his garage and that kind of does match up with what was shown in Season 4. Although he’s supposed to be a senior in the book so that doesn’t line up. I don’t really know if he is the unnamed band member or not.

Also unless I read wrong, did they really mess up Gareth’s wrist when he’s a drummer? Only to have Jason mess up his hand in season four? That was uncalled for. Leave Gare alone.

I appreciate how understanding Hop was with Eddie. I think deep down even he knew Eddie was a good kid for the most part.

Eddie’s LOTR monologues were just so Eddie lol. It was cool to see Ronnie try to help him with his studies though. Hurt to see him call the assigned reading for English bland, but I get it. There were some books we had to read for English that I didn’t like either.

It was a nice touch that they mentioned Eddie enjoying comics. Especially the Xmen ones since it kind of confirms he got the Hellfire Club name from the Xmen comics.

All in all, not a bad book. Third ST novel I read. Lucas on the Line was really good despite the descriptions of Eddie not really being accurate. Also read the Hopper book which was pretty good too.

#eddie munson #flight of icarus

[stficblog]

The New Girl (part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Description: You find Eddie after the events of episode 1.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Ok I guess I’m not ending the series with part 6. This story keeps going in directions that I wasn’t planning and I’m just along for the ride. Also thank you to the handful of people who have left me kind words about this series. I appreciate you more than you will ever know.

You lay on the couch at home, finally feeling better after two days of being ill. The TV chattered in the background, but you weren’t really paying attention. You were worried.

Eddie didn’t show up last night to tell you how D&D went. He didn’t even call. For the last two days, he had come over after school just to sit by your bed while you slept. It wasn’t like him to disappear like this.

“We don’t have a lot of details right now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning.”

You turned towards the TV with a frown. The Hawkins curse had struck again. But wait… that was Eddie’s trailer.

Panic gripped your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Eddie couldn’t be dead. It couldn’t be him.

~

Wayne Munson knew you as “Eddie’s girl,” although Eddie had insisted multiple times that the two of you weren’t dating.

He liked you. His nephew had a tendency to put up a theatrical front around other people, but he never did that with you. Now, he studied you as you stood before him.

“Eddie,” you panted, “is he…?”

“Eddie ain’t here, girl,” Wayne said, grinding his cigarette butt out on the table, “haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

A wave of relief washed over you.

“You mean… he’s not dead?”

“Not yet,” Wayne scoffed, “but he will be when the townsfolk find him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone thinks he did it. That he killed that poor girl in cold blood.”

Eddie wasn’t a violent person. He wasn’t even an angry person, despite what he always said about hating society.

With renewed hope, you rushed away to find him.

~

You checked everywhere. Jeff wasn’t home, and when you found him with the rest of the band in Gareth’s garage, none of them knew where Eddie was. You wracked your brain for ideas.

Reefer Rick’s. Eddie had brought you there once to buy weed with him, and you knew he sometimes crashed there when the two of them hung out together.

It was already night by the time you started heading to Rick’s. Oddly enough, there was another car going the exact same way as you, all the way to Rick’s house. You grew tense, thinking that this could be a hunting party of angry town citizens.

You got out of your car, brandishing the umbrella that you kept under the passenger seat. Gripping the umbrella with both hands, you braced yourself for a fight.

It was Dustin Henderson, the freshman that had joined Hellfire Club at the beginning of the year. Three other people climbed out of the car with him, all carrying flashlights that they now trained on you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Dustin lowered his flashlight.

“What,” you fired back, “are you doing here? And who are they?”

“I’m Robin,” one of them piped up.

“We’re looking for Eddie,” Dustin explained.

“So am I,” you said cautiously, “but I’m not reporting him to the police when I find him!”

“Neither are we!”

“You don’t think he’s guilty?”

“No! Eddie could never kill someone!”

You lowered the umbrella. You knew that Dustin looked up to Eddie. He was an honest kid, too.

“Alright,” you said, “we’ll look together.”

~

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson,” Steve said as he jabbed at the tarp with a wooden oar, “but considering everyone in this room besides Y/N has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-”

Suddenly, Eddie burst out from under the tarp, pinning Steve to the wall with a broken beer bottle at his throat. There was a moment of chaos as everyone tried to figure out what was happening.

“Eddie! Eddie, stop!” Dustin stood back, trying to show Eddie that he meant no harm. “It’s me! It’s Dustin! This is Steve! He’s not going to hurt you. Right, Steve?”

Steve dropped the oar. The sudden loud noise further aggravated Eddie, causing him to press the broken bottle harder against Steve’s throat.

“Eddie,” you said desperately, “look at me.”

Your familiar voice pierced through the haze of Eddie’s fear, and he slowly turned to you. He had a crazed look to him, like an animal caught in a trap, but his eyes softened when he saw you.

“Y/N…?”

“It’s me,” you breathed, “let him go, Eddie.”

There was a moment of silence as Eddie seemed to process what was happening. Finally, he released Steve and slid down against the wall. You noticed him shaking and crouched in front of him, taking his free hand in both of yours. Next to you, Dustin crouched down as well, watching Eddie with concern.

“Eddie,” he said quietly, “we just want to talk.”

“We want to know what happened,” said Robin.

Eddie looked up, still shaking.

“You won’t believe me.”

~

You stayed with Eddie while the others left to get groceries. He had tried to convince you to go home, but you wouldn’t budge.

“My parents will be fine! A little worrying won’t kill them,” you argued, “and I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone, pendejo!”

Eddie battled with his conscience. He wanted you by his side more than anything but allowing you to stay could bring serious consequences for you. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted because you were hell bent on staying with him.

You never left his side and he was grateful for it. The two of you lay curled up in the boat, covered by the tarp. It was cramped and you were practically on top of each other, but you both secretly relished the closeness.

You weren’t quite sure when it started, but over the past year you had found yourself getting butterflies every time Eddie touched you. Your heart skipped a beat every time he said your name. You couldn’t help staring at him sometimes, as if he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Slowly, quietly, you had fallen in love with Eddie Munson. You never meant for it to happen but now that you were here, limbs tangled with his while you hid from the world, you were glad. He was the one person who made you feel the safest.

Gravel crunched outside as a car pulled up to the house. Instantly, Eddie threw the tarp aside and snatched up the broken bottle that he had left on a nearby table. He peeked out the window, gripping the bottle with white knuckles.

In your shock you remained sitting in the boat. Eddie glanced at you, then at the window. If someone attacked, he would do everything in his power to protect you.

The door slammed open to reveal Dustin and the others with their arms full of grocery bags.

“Delivery service!”

~

You and Eddie sat squished together in the boat, passing a box of Honeycomb cereal back and forth. Eddie hadn’t eaten since the day before and was ravenously stuffing handfuls of it in his mouth.

“So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news,” said Dustin, “how do you prefer it?”

“Bad news first,” Eddie said through a mouthful of cereal, “always.”

“Alright, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro,” Dustin started, “and they’re definitely looking for you. Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” added Max.

“And the good news?” You piped up.

“Eddie’s name hasn’t gone public yet,” said Robin, “but if we found out about him, it’s a matter of time before others do too and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for him.”

Eddie stiffened next to you.

“Hunt the freak, right?” He had a bitter look on his face.

“Exactly.”

“Shit.”

~

Dustin and the others left to investigate a commotion down the street, which turned out to be another death. This time it was a boy who worked with Nancy for the Hawkins Tiger. Robin relayed all this information to you and Eddie through the walkie talkie.

Eddie had a hollow look in his eyes, and you could tell he was remembering Chrissy’s death. You took his hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“The way she hung there,” Eddie said shakily, “and the sound… the snapping…”

You pulled him in for a hug and he buried his face in your shoulder, holding you tightly as if he was afraid that you would start floating toward the ceiling like Chrissy had.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, “don’t you worry.”

Little did either of you know, you were going somewhere, and quite soon too. You’d had a headache for the past several days that wouldn’t go away, and you kept waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. You had attributed all of this to your illness, even though that had only lasted two days.

Your days were numbered. In blissful ignorance, you held your best friend, wishing for his nightmare to end while your own nightmare was just about to begin.

Part 7

Tag list: @totallynotkaibiased​ @hurricane-abigail​ @slytherinintj13​ @are-y0u-sirius​ @ttyrannosauruslex​ @f0undations-0f-decay​

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

[sourstiless]

i want to preface this before i say what i say, because i don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. i am not an advocate for killing characters off for shock value, or using death as the only way to wrap up a character’s redemption arc. in most cases i really hate it, and i’ve actually stopped watching shows for it. that being said, i really do think that the only direction for steve’s character is death.

putting it under the cut because it got longer than i intended. spoilers for all of s4 under the cut.

i don’t like the idea of it, because he’s had such great development and redemption, and he’s become such a beloved character, and like i said before i don’t like using death as the only way to wrap up characters like steve’s arcs. but, honestly i feel like there’s nothing else to really do with steve in terms of furthering the plot. in season 1, steve served as the antagonist. he was a catalyst in getting nancy and jonathan together (inviting nancy to the party, nancy bringing barb, barb cutting her finger, jonathan taking pictures of said party and catching a pic of barb by the pool before she died, nancy sees said pic, and we all know what happens after that). he then served as nancy and jonathan’s savior by using the nail bat to hit the demogorgon, saving jonathan so they could then set it on fire.

in s2, steve is used to further nancy’s character in dealing with her guilt regarding barb, pushing her to investigate it further because he wants to just be stupid teenagers. after they break up, steve serves as the “babysitter” for the younger kids, protecting them from demogorgons and keeping them safe from billy and the tunnels (something they couldn’t have otherwise done because billy is much bigger than them, and we see in the tunnels that steve is the reason they’re able to get out because he boosts them up). he also serves to help support dustin’s character and his confidence.

in season 3, he is a driving factor in the group discovering the russian base. he’s the only one to pick up on the ride music in the mall, which is how they discover that the russians are using the mall as a front in the first place. and yeah, this could have fallen on dustin or robin, but i do think this was significant because i think it’s used to show how the logic driven characters can often overlook little details that seem unimportant. the others were so focused on the actual words and translating them, but we all know steve isn’t really the academic type, so it does make sense that he would choose to focus on the music in the background instead. the scoops troop are then huge players in the overall plot, as they’re the ones who discover the russians have reopened the gate to the upside down.

but in season 4, we start to see that the writers don’t really know what to do with steve. max is the one who discovers eddie may be hiding out in reefer rick’s place, while steve is the only one who isn’t actively looking for eddie and instead tending to the customers. dustin is the one who is connected to eddie, and able to get through to him. max and nancy are the one who have a connection to vecna. lucas and el were driving forces in saving max from the first time vecna took her, not steve. and yeah, you can say that they needed him to find the gate, but as we see in episode 6 when he gets dragged through the gate, the others are able to find it and save him without any trouble. i think it’s a cute headcanon to believe that steve’s relationship to dustin is the reason he heads him from the upside down, but the others are also able to hear dustin when they come back down. it’s shot in such a way that makes it easily interpreted as steve hearing dustin because he was the only one to linger downstairs, and not because of any emotional connection they have. in volume 2, steve, nancy and robin didn’t really do all that much until the end of episode 9 when they set vecna on fire, and that only slowed him down, it didn’t him. most of steve’s scenes were him pining over nancy, which in my opinion was insignificant and unnecessary. the plot would have been exactly the same without it.

because they don’t know how to develop his character further, they’ve instead elected to water him down to someone who only cares about things like romance and finding a partner. and that’s not a bad thing, i do think a core part of his character is wanting to love and to be loved, but the way they wrote it made it seemingly stunt his growth rather than develop him. a huge part of why steve did what he did in s1 was because he thought nancy was cheating on him, and it would be regression to have him then, in s4, be or want to be a homewrecker to nancy’s other relationship.

so to recap, in s1 he was the antagonist, in s2, the babysitter, in s3, he played a huge part in discovering the gate and what happens to hopper because of what they find, but in s4, they start to lose him. and yeah, you can say they could send him to college, but i don’t think they can. they’ve implied multiple times that he was “too dumb” and didn’t have the grades to get into college (which is such bs, but a conversation for another day). they could’ve gone the route of him deciding that college wasn’t for him, or that he decided to take a gap year, but they didn’t. they’ve specifically alluded to him not being smart enough for it, even way back in s2 when nancy was editing his essay. he can’t just move out of town unless his parents do because he doesn’t have the money. the first job he ever had was scoops ahoy because his father wanted to punish him for not getting into school. we can assume it’s a minimum wage job, like family video. places run solely by teenagers are usually paying minimum wage form my experience, or under in some cases. it’s only been a year since the end of s3 and the beginning of s4, and we know enough time passed between the time the mall was destroyed and getting the job at family video for his face to heal entirely, meaning it had to be at least a week but probably more. with steve being around in hawkins at the end of s4, we can assume his parents aren’t moving.

basically what i’m saying is the writers don’t know what to do with his character and have boarded up and cut off all the good, or at least decent endings for steve. him dying seems like the only way to keep his character “important”(i put that in quotes because he will always be important to me). they used eddie as a cop out death in place of steve. eddie had the same relationship to dustin as steve had, meaning it would pack the same emotional punch without having to kill off one of their main characters. like yeah we love him as the babysitter, but the kids aren’t kids anymore. they don’t need a babysitter. he’s developed past being an antagonist, and he’s graduated from high school, he’s not the cliche high school bully anymore. jonathan and nancy are still together, the very relationship he inadvertently helped set up. and the rest of the people his age are planning on leaving and going to college. there is nothing else for him to do. narratively speaking, they have set his character up to die, whether they know it or not, because they have made it so there is nowhere else for him to go. narratively speaking, his relevance to the plot is fading because of the way they have written the show, whether we like it or not.

and obviously, this doesn’t mean he’s going to be killed off, but what it does mean is that i would be more satisfied with him dying than him fading into obscurity or simply just not doing anything important because the writers didn’t know what to do with his character.

#anyway #i have lots of thoughts about this #i would stop watching the show if steve died #i’ve done it with many shows before #but i don’t see any other way for his story to end #not with the way they have set him up #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4

[zenosanalytic]

People What Aint From Round Here Is The Problem...

So I just watched Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood and I have THOUGHTS:

Ive read a few reviews&ruminations on this film at this point and I can’t believe that none of them got(or at least, mentioned explicitly) the primary thesis of this movie, spcl given that Tarentino flatly states it out the mouth of his primary protagonist within, like, the first 15-20mins of the film: “...most important thing in this town is when you’re making money you buy a house in town. You don’t rent... Hollywood real estate means you live here. You’re not just visiting, not just passing through. You fuckin live here.” i.e., the most important thing in Hollywood, to Hollywood, is the people FROM Hollywood; Everyone else is just a filthy, trouble-making tourist or profiteer who is “Passing Through” and “Doesnt Get It” and  “Is Fucking It Up”(It being the film industry), and probably “Secretly Hates Movies”. There are places and aspects of this movie that are basically a Nativist Angeleno rant, written by a life-long Angeleno film-nerd-turned-film-maker, against Hollywood’s critics(and his critics which he just totally conflates with the former), and probably non-Angelenos(and non-Californians?) in general.

There are two ways to read this thesis: Straight and Subverted/Satirized.

The evidence for reading it straight is pretty plentiful. Lots of reviews have puzzled at where the line connecting the constant hippie-bashing, the weird focus on knocking Polanski’s Polishness & preference for shooting in London, and the inexplicable pot-shot at Bruce Lee is, and I think this is it. “The Hippies” are repeatedly presented as a corrupting force: digging through trash, living in squalourous filth at the Spahn Ranch dragging members of “Old Hollywood” like its owner into it with them, selling drugs, and using sex to “control” men. And attached to this is presenting “The Hippies” as foreign; not only from another place, but refusing to assimilate with the LA way of life and hostile to it. The Manson family are the only explicitly identified “Hippies” in the film(other than, possibly, the one who sells Cliff an acid cig). The only “positive” portrayals of Bruce Lee in the film are silent ones of him teaching anglos kung fu, which has some fairly obvs and well-understood Implications.

But there’s also good evidence for reading it as subverted and satirized. Both Tate and Dalton are NOT from California, let alone LA, and Booth’s origins are left unclear. Dalton’s the only one of them explicitly id’d as being from elsewhere(Missouri), but Tate’s easy to google and she was a military kid who grew up all over the place. When Dalton returns from Italy, that sequence and his look in it are VERY reminiscent of the scenes introducing Polanski at the beginning of the film. The side-characters around Tate, perennially shown in a positive light, are also non-Angelenos. Doing Spaghetti Westerns revitalizes Dalton’s career, despite his disdain for Italian cinema. Tate and her crew, while not explicitly ID’d as “Hippies” and often shown in Mod and other fashion styles, are also presented in “Hippie” fashion, shown listening to “Hippie” music, smoking the “Hippie” Reefer(Im sorry, but Comedy Demanded this phrasing and I am Devout u_u), and implied to be living a polyamorous “Hippie” life.

It really is difficult for me to say which predominates. On the one entirely metaphorical hand, the ways in which Dalton’s Angeleno chauvinism are subverted and mocked are fairly obvs, but on the other emh, the film is FILLED with LITERALLY GLOWING nostalgia for this pre-Hippy, pre-Lefty, pre-70s, Conservative and Republican California&Los Angeles. Dalton’s focus on property-ownership&the film industry in the opening thesis could easily be seen as resolving these subversive contradictions to allow for a straight read(ie: Tate, Booth, and Dalton are “Hollywood People” who’ve both bought real-estate in LA, and who’ve grown up in film or film-adjacent fields and choose to center their adult lives in the film industry). So much, in fact, that I kinda started to wonder abt QT’s politics while watching it. And, if it WAS satirical, then what’s the point of the knock to Bruce Lee and focusing criticisms of Polanski on his Polishness and shooting in London? Is that just meant to characterize Dalton and Booth as nativists and racists?

It really cannot be said enough that there are REALLY MORE APPROPRIATE CRITICISMS to make of Polanski than 1)begin Polish, 2)possessing boyish effeminacy, and 3)preferring to shoot movies in London instead of LA. Which are this movie’s only problems with him(though it also takes the time to show him bitchily smoking a cigarette in an evening gown while being rude to a dog). Obvsl I dont object to villainizing an ACTUAL REAL LIFE VILLAIN like this shitstain, but I DO object to being asked(albeit gently) to participate in this film’s understated nationalist bigotry.

It’s possible that Cliff’s turning Pussycat down during the drive to the ranch was intended to be this but I highly doubt it. And if it was it’d be misrepresenting Polanski’s misdeeds enormously, considering that Pussycat, the too-young girl, is the sexual instigator in this film. Polanski liked to manipulate, drug, and rape underaged girls(he pulled the same shit with models in Europe before getting busted for it in LA, btw, then continued doing it after fleeing back to Europe); really not the same situation.

There’s another irony in that, while the film goes out of its way to call Polanski “boyish” and imply that makes him feminine and that this is Bad, there’s also a subtle under-current that... Tarentino sees himself in his youth the same way? He’s certainly never been short like Polanski and Jay Sebring are/were, QT’s 6 1, but the actors he cast to play them and the description made of the pair in-film are more than a bit reminiscent of how Tarentino looked&was discussed in the press back in the 90s when he was starting out. AAAaaand the film explicitly calls that Tate’s “Type”; leaving me with the question: would Tarentino be able to stop himself from implying a dead starlet would have been attracted to him? I leave the answer to your imaginations, Dear Readers u_u

Having said all that it IS a really good film, which I liked, I dont think it’d be very hard to set aside this political stuff while watching, the driving sequences are especially emotive&exhilarating, and there’s some seriously great acting in it. IDK if I’d say I liked it more than the recent Emma movie, tho.

I feel like each of the trio, Tate, Dalton, and Booth, were meant to symbolically Embody LA/Hollywood/California? Like Pitt especially seemed to be channeling movie characters and CJ from GTA: San Andreas throughout his performance, while I couldnt help but think of Ronald Reagan watching DiCaprio(spcl given the character’s likely politics). So there’s this sense in which the film is a fantasy of “Old Hollywood”, embodied by these three, Vanquishing its “Enemies”, represented by The Hippies(moralizing, pretentious, gross leftist) and potentially Polanski&Lee(foreign film ppl who refuse to integrate into the LA scene). Again, given the political history of Cali after this era, this embodiment raises some questions for me abt the film and QT’s politics(particularly in re: misogyny and feminism).

Also DiCaprio is totally going to get pitched a Reagan biopic off of this role and I sincerely hope he has the good sense to turn that shit the fuck down.

Circling back to the ranting at his critics, this movie was definitely and consciously a response to them. Like: up until the last 5-15 minutes of the film, and aside from a handful of too-lingering too fetishistic too on-the-nose creep shots of the female cast that Tarentino simply could not stop himself from making, OUATiH is precisely the sort of “Serious” film Tarentino’s critics have been saying he should make for decades now(of course he did Jackie Brown, which was that and which he blew Completely out of the park). And then there’s that bloody, gross-out, exploitation-movie ending. I dont actually think it was as bad as many critics were saying it was? For some reason I was thinking there was gonna be a massacre of the ENTIRE Manson family, which would have been totally out of left-field. But it WAS clearly a stinger of a major tone-shift thrown in as a Fuck You to the ppl who’ve called out his violent and exploitative preferences throughout the years. As for me I generally like his movies and think he’s a great filmmaker but he absolutely does go too far sometimes.

Rick Dalton, in an evening-gown, with a mixer full of iced-margarita in one hand, getting all up in the face of the driver of a loud exhaust-spewing jalope in his PRIVATE STREET was TOTALLY Tarentino himself :| By which I mean NOT ONLY that That’s ABSOLUTELY the sort of cameo he would have given himself 30 years ago and if it made any sort of sense at all in the film(which here it wouldnt have, obvsl), BUT ALSO that I feel 94% confident that Tarentino has actually done that at least once in his lifetime :| :|

I think the monologue&interactions T gives Bruce Lee leading up to the fight were probably more insulting to him than the fight itself. Contrary to popular discussion, it isn’t Pitt’s character totally trashing Lee, he gets in one good throw after Lee repeats a successful attack at his request(which I doubt Lee would have ever done from what little I know about him; not being predictable in a fight was his whole Deal), but rather an even duel between them(most of the fight is just the two blocking each others’ attacks). I dont think the film was trying to say “Lee was full of hot-air”, if it wanted to say that it’d have shown him getting trounced instead of showing him knock Booth down then trade him blow for blow, but more “Lee was pretty arrogant and a bit pretentious”.

OK, that’s abt all that I can think of right now: thanks for reading ^v^

#Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood #Quentin Tarentino #Long Post #Cinema #zA Reviews #Movie Reviews #zA Commentary #zA Opinions #analytic posts

[blockheadbrands]

Cannabis And Cancer Care: What The Science Says

The Emerald Tribune Reports:

With legalization on the horizon in Canada, dispensaries are marketing marijuana as a cure for what ails you – including cancer. Do the claims hold up? Adriana Barton takes a closer look at the science behind cancer and cannabis

In a lab at the University of Nottingham in England, brain-cancer specialist Richard Grundy is growing cells from children's brain tumours to see if cannabidiol – a compound in marijuana – can kill them.

Brain-tumour cells rarely thrive outside the body, though, so he'll be lucky if half a dozen cell clusters survive long enough to study the hunch. Even if the compound snuffs out cancer cells in the lab, there's no guarantee it would do the same in humans. "But," he said, "one has to start somewhere."

That sums up the current stage of research on cannabis and cancer – it's at the start. Compelling stories of patient recoveries, combined with laboratory evidence of possible cancer-fighting effects, have spurred researchers worldwide to put cannabis to the test. So far, scientists have observed anti-tumour activity in cells cultured in Petri dishes or grafted onto mice. But mice and people are different beasts. Plenty of experimental cancer therapies have shown promise in early studies – such as dichloroacetic acid (DCA) – only to fail in human trials.

But the cautious pace of medical research hasn't stopped Canada's unregulated marijuana dispensaries from marketing cannabis as a cancer cure. Some sell it with a veneer of science, quoting Harvard University researchers out of context as saying cannabis "significantly reduces the ability of the cancer to spread." Others link to a video with 1.2-million YouTube views featuring Rick Simpson, a Canadian living abroad who claims homegrown cannabis oil cured his skin cancer. Several websites take a conspiracy-theory approach, describing a high-potency cannabis oil called "Phoenix Tears" as "the cancer cure the government doesn't want you to know about."

As Canada hurtles toward new legislation to legalize marijuana in 2018, the buzz has left many Canadians wondering whether medical cannabis can help them recover from cancer. "It's a very common question we do get," said Robert Nuttall, assistant director of health policy at the Canadian Cancer Society, which outlines the facts about cannabis and cancer on its website.

No one can blame a cancer patient for wanting to try anything possible to get well – or at least take the edge off chemotherapy-induced nausea and other nasty side effects.

But when it comes to treatment, scientists have yet to determine whether marijuana's unproven anti-tumour properties outweighs the potential harms of consuming high-potency cannabis oils and extracts. To make sense of the evolving science, The Globe and Mail combed through the evidence and spoke to authorities in medical marijuana research. Here's our take on the burning questions about cannabis in cancer care.

What are cannabinoids? How can they help cancer patients?

Cannabinoids are the compounds in marijuana that have drug-like effects. THC, short for tetrahydrocannabinol, can dull pain and make people "high," while cannabidiol (CBD) may lower pain without psychoactive effects. These and other compounds in marijuana bind to receptors on cells throughout the body, including the brain, immune system and central nervous system, instructing cells to perform specific functions. In cancer patients, some of these instructions may help relievechemotherapy side effects such as nausea, vomiting and appetite loss.

Do cancer patients have to smoke marijuana to get the benefits?

No. In fact, inhaled cannabis has shown mixed results in studies of chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting. Instead, a doctor may prescribe an edible oil containing THC and CBD from a licensed medical cannabis producer, or a synthetic cannabinoid such as nabilone, an anti-nausea drug that mimics THC.

Before using cannabis in any form, Nuttall said, patients should discuss it with a medical doctor or oncologist to avoid side effects or possible drug interactions with their cancer treatments.

What are the upsides of medical cannabis for cancer symptoms?

Certain pharmaceutical drugs may be more effective in treating individual symptoms, such as chemotherapy-related nausea. But when doctors prescribe a different drug for each side effect, the pill count adds up, said Vincent Maida, a palliative medicine specialist at the University of Toronto and co-author of a 2016 guide to cannabinoid therapies in oncology published in the Canadian journal, Current Oncology. Since medical cannabis can relieve multiple symptoms, "we're able to help the pain, the nausea and the anorexia [appetite loss]."

Cannabinoids may also reduce dependence on opioid painkillers, said Maida, whose research is not funded by the medical cannabis industry (although he does accept occasional speaker's fees). Maida cites data showing that cancer patients on high-dose opioids are at greater risk for metastases (cancer spread), infections (opioids suppress the immune system) and opioid addiction. Expanding the use of cannabinoid therapies "can be regarded as an overall risk-reduction strategy."

What about a cure? Doesn't cannabis kill cancer cells?

Certain chemicals derived from cannabis may kill tumour cells in a Petri dish, but so does bleach. That doesn't make bleach a cancer treatment. Testing compounds in Petri dishes, known as in vitro research, helps researchers gauge whether a substance shows enough effects to justify animal testing. But both in vitro and animal studies represent the earliest stages of medical research.

So far, the only published human trial of cannabinoids for tumours involved nine patients with terminal brain cancer. In this 2006 study, Spanish researchers injected medical-grade THC through a catheter in patients' brains, "which is different from people smoking a joint," Nuttall said. The researchers found signs of reduced tumour growth in cells taken from two patients, but all nine patients died from their tumours within months.

The authors emphasized they could draw no conclusions about THC's cancer-fighting potential based on the pilot study. There's a chance, in fact, that cannabis may have the opposite effect. In one in vitro study, published in 2010, researchers found that cannabinoids, under certain conditions, could interfere with the immune system's tumour-suppressing role. In a 2004 study and a 2005 study, cannabinoids appeared to stimulate cancer-cell growth.

It will take scientists years to figure how different types of cancer respond to specific compounds in marijuana, said Rukiyah Van Dross-Anderson, an associate professor of pharmacology and toxicology at East Carolina University. In 2016, she co-authored a review of dozens of studies looking at the effects of cannabinoids on cancers of the brain, digestive system, breast cancer, prostate, lungs, thyroid and skin. In a phone interview, she described the research as "promising," but added that so far "there is not enough evidence for any of the cancers to state confidently that it is effective and safe."

What about cancer patients who have gone into remission after using cannabis?

These are anecdotes, not evidence. In California, a cannabis company called Aunt Zelda's is building a database of reports from patients who say cannabis therapies helped them recover from cancer. But without rigorous medical documentation, no one knows whether the patient got better because of the cannabis, previous radiation and chemotherapy, or some other factor in the patient's life.

Rick Simpson of "marijuana miracle" fame may have bounced back from skin cancer, but a single remission hardly makes cannabis a one-size-fits-all treatment for the many different diseases we call cancer. Even the most promising findings suggest cannabinoids may shrink tumours, not eliminate them, Maida said. Hypothetically, if patients were suddenly free of cancer, "I would suspect that they were spontaneous remissions," he said. "And not an absolute cure induced by cannabinoids."

I have late-stage cancer. What have I got to lose?

For patients in end-of-life care, medical cannabis may reduce pain, help with sleep and improve mood. But as a "Hail Mary" treatment for terminal cancer, unregulated cannabis products can backfire. Marijuana dispensaries typically recommend extremely high doses of concentrated THC and/or CBD for cancer patients. These high-potency oils have no proven benefits over licensed medical marijuana – and may decrease quality of life, Maida said. At these levels, "you're going to make [patients] completely psychotic and sedated."

Do-it-yourself cancer therapy using products such as "Rick Simpson oil" or Phoenix Tears – sold as high-potency "cure-alls" through dozens of Canadian dispensaries – can easily cost more than $1,000 a month. But the biggest risk, particularly for patients with vulnerable immune systems, may be infection from bacterial or fungal contamination, or exposure to carcinogenic pesticides, Van Dross-Anderson said. Using a regulated product is the only way to ensure contaminants are removed. "I can understand people's desperation," she said, but instead of taking a chance on dispensary products, "it would be better to enroll in a clinical trial."

So what's the good news?

As marijuana loses it reefer-madness stigma, researchers are having an easier time securing funding and regulatory approval for research on cannabinoids, said Van Dross-Anderson, whose lab is studying the effects of a cannabinoid derivative on melanoma skin-cancer cells.

At the University of Canberra in Australia, researchers have gathered funding to conduct a human trial of cannabis therapy on patients with melanoma skin cancer, providing they produce safety data from animal trials and obtain ethical and regulatory approval. In Britain, GW Pharmaceuticals has completed a phase-two trial of cannabis compounds, combined with chemotherapy, in patients with glioma, an aggressive type of brain tumour. The company released initial findingsin February, but the results have not been peer-reviewed or published in a medical journal.

Van Dross-Anderson speculates that cannabinoid treatments for glioma brain cancers – the most widely studied to date – may not be far off: "We could be looking at 10 years."

Grundy is more circumspect, but emphasizes the urgent need for more research. Parents of children with brain tumours often feel pressure from friends and family to give cannabis products a try, "even though there's no real evidence for it," he said. "I think it's a question that needs answers."

TO READ MORE OF THIS ARTICLE ON THE GLOBE AND MAIL, CLICK HERE.

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