#At least that's what David used to say.

[ask-ruth-weaver]

do you know what a dilf is?

Yeah. Isn't it like an acronym for Damn I Love Fishing?

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

see there’s kinda an issue with the doctors being named after the actor because hurt’s and martin’s doctors already have alternate names without a number plus then you have to use numbers anyway for tennant’s 3 doctors

I mean, I think the war and fugitive doctors having those unique names isn't necessarily an argument against just using the actor names, necessarily. I think it is v polite of them to fit into the catalogue of doctors without fucking up the numbering of the doctors.

Whereas if you consider stolen earth tennant doctor and journey's end doctor to be 2 separate doctors, well then you're just causing problems on purpose, aren't you,

[heroesriseandfall]

Cass is not a human lie detector…

[ofyorkshire]

small open because bj should talk about things he likes more lol

          "He really gets me," BJ said, more to himself than to them, though, that could be the teenage-esque dreaminess in his voice. He was sprawled out on the couch, pillow cradled under his chin, and watching Labyrinth. Sarah, the film's heroine, had just met her questionable love interest and antagonist, Jareth the Goblin King. BJ, clearly, was more focused on the latter.

          "Look at him," he hummed. "The hair, the makeup... the way he carries himself. Bowie makes anything he wears look like it's wearing him, and this 'fit is tame for him." BJ pulled his knees up to his stomach to give them room to sit if they wanted, but spared them only a second of his attention away from the screen. "I wish I had that. Imagine being that fucking free."

          Of course, he knows it's not quite that simple. David Bowie was a rock star, and the crazy looks, the confidence, the eye-catching power was just part of the glam rock scene. He could wear a full-body chicken suit and the world would scream to him. BJ was just another weird guy on the street with no fame or talent, and society was rarely as kind to other civilians who didn't fit their conventional mold.

[navree]

i don't think people understand that when i say i have an augustus biopic show in my head i mean that so sincerely, i can plot the entire thing out for you season by season, almost episode by episode, not even kidding

[roanofarcc]

FUNNY BUSINESS

pairing. tyler owens x boone’s sister!reader

summary. boone was a laid-back guy who only really had one, long-standing rule: his sister was off-limits to the wranglers. But tyler had a bad habit of rule-breaking.

 warnings. a curse or two, fem!reader, mentions of drinking/being drunk (not reader), suggestive jokes, bed-sharing.

word count. 4k || masterlist

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Dani said, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the side of the rig alongside Tyler and Boone. She and Tyler had their sights set on you as you concentrated on the options of the vending machine, oblivious to their attention. 

Boone furrowed his brows, having just been focused on the camera in his hands. “Who?” 

“You,” Dani answered. “You brought your hot sister all of the way out here to help us, and then tell us she’s off-limits. It’s cruel and unusual punishment, if ‘ya ask me.” 

A laugh bubbled up from Tyler’s throat, earning him a glare from Boone. “It’s not my fault none of you assholes can keep it in your pants.” 

It was Tyler’s turn to glare, playfully. “I’m a gentleman, Boone. Is it a crime to get to know her, you know, considering she’s a part of the team now?” 

With a sigh, Boone shook his head. “Just no funny business.” 

Tyler mock saluted. “Scouts honor.” 

Tyler was a gentleman; his momma had raised him as such. And despite his teasing, he did want to respect Boone’s words. But at the same time, you were the newest member of the Wranglers, and Tyler did want to get to know you since you’d be hanging around for at least that season. 

Boone had suggested to bring you on to help with the charity aspect of their storm-chasing. The t-shirt and other sales they made from their online audience went mostly to help victims of the storms they chased, and the rest went back into making the merchandise to sell. Boone said you’d be a good addition to help out with the business side of things, and he’d been right from what Tyler had seen so far. You were smart and quick, and were able to keep up with the rest of Wranglers as if you’d been a part of the team since the start. Tyler was impressed. 

But what really impressed him, was how caring you were. It was the first time you’d come along with them to help out a neighborhood that was hit hard by a tornado. Houses were leveled and the devastation was thick in the air from the moment they arrived. 

The Wrangler quickly got to work. Lily and Dexter started making sandwiches. Dani started walking around and passing out water bottles. Boone helped the injured to the ambulances that arrived. Tyler started making rounds, helping families find their missing pets or important objects in the rubble. But as he did so, he couldn’t help but watch you interact with the victims as well. 

A couple of kids from the neighborhood sat together in a clear patch of grass while their parents tried to salvage some of their belongings and figure out what to do next. They all looked teary-eyed, and faces pulled in frowns as they sat quietly, clutching stuffed animals or picking at the wet grass to distract themselves. You approached them, sitting down in the little circle they formed. 

Tyler couldn’t hear what you were saying to them, but your started to look more and more animated and the kids cracked small smiles. After a couple more moments, the kids’ moods looked to shift into something lighter despite the devastation around them. The somber air slowly became filled with giggles and kids’ voices overlapping excitedly. 

Tyler found himself smiling softly at the sight before he ventured over. “How’s it going over here?” he asked, earning your attention. 

“David here is telling us a very interesting story about a space alien,” you said, earning an enthusiastic nod from one of the younger boys in the circle. “You guys keep telling stories and I’m gonna go make sure no one else needs help, okay?” 

The kids all shared a series of ‘okays’ and ‘thank yous’ before you moved to stand up. Tyler outstretched his hand toward you, and you took it with a smile, letting him help you to your feet. Once you stood directly in front of him, he felt himself clam up slightly. He and Dani had made jokes in hopes of irritating Boone in regards to how attractive you were, but seeing you that close, in the after-storm sunlight, Tyler’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“Thanks,” you said, dropping your hand back at your side and gazing around at what else there was to be done in the neighborhood. 

He cleared his throat. “That was smart, keepin’ their minds off of…” he vaguely gestured around them, feeling a knot in his gut of pity for the poor families affected. 

You smiled sadly. “My parents used to do that with Boone and I. When we’d have to wait in the cellar, we’d all tell stories until the storm passed. The more outrageous the better,” you explained. 

“It seemed to work,” Tyler said, glancing at the circle of kids all sharing outrageous stories with laughter and smiles instead of the frowns they held a couple minutes ago. 

“Yeah, at least a little bit,” you said. There was a beat where Tyler didn’t know what else to say. Something over his shoulder caught your eye before you looked back to him and said, “I’m gonna go help Boone.” You sidestepped Tyler and left him in a slight daze. 

He whispered a string of curses under his breath once he was out of earshot of the kids, and hurried back to the camper where the Wranglers were handing out food. 

“I’ve got a problem,” he muttered to his friends. 

Lily handed out another sandwich before eyeing him oddly. “A problem-problem or a you-problem?” 

“A me-problem.” 

“Ah,” she said. “Shoot, cowboy.” 

“It’s Boone’s sister,” he whispered, ensuring that only Lily, Dexter, and Dani heard him. “She’s…”

“Attractive? Yeah, I thought we already established that?” Dani said, opening another case of water. 

Tyler rubbed his forehead, an odd feeling twisting around inside his stomach. “It’s not just that,” he said. “She’s pretty, sure, but-” 

Lily cut him off with slightly wide eyes. “Oh no,” she said. 

Dexter furrowed his brows. “Oh no? Oh no, what?” 

“Tyler only, and I mean only, calls women ‘pretty’ when he has a crush on them. Some ole’ woman at a bar that’s makin’ eyes at him, he’ll call her ‘attractive’ or ‘easy on the eyes’ never ‘pretty.’ Pretty he saves for the ones he’s got a big fat school-boy crush on. And normally that’s all fine and dandy, but this is Boone’s sister we’re talking about, Tyler.” 

He hated how well Lily knew him. She read him like a book. 

Dexter whistled lowly. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“What’s unfortunate?” Boone said, approaching the group with you beside him. All of the Wranglers, aside from you two, looked at Tyler, which was anything but helpful. 

Boone was one of Tyler’s best friends, and he knew it was the right thing to listen to him. Besides, Tyler hadn’t known you long so maybe his ‘school-boy crush,’ as Lily had put it, would fade once he got used to having you around. 

Clearing his throat, Tyler shook his head. “Nothin’ important,” he said. “Let’s pass the rest of this food out before we head out for the night.” 

You adored your brother’s friends more than you thought you would. You’d watch the Wranglers’ livestreams, but it was different being around them in person. Their passion for storm chasing was admirable and how they helped those affected by the very storms they were in awe of was amazing. 

When Boone asked you to help out, you jumped at the opportunity. You certainly didn’t regret your decision, but you greatly underestimated the charm of Tyler Owens. You’d read the comments online, all ogling at the storm chaser, but it wasn’t just his looks that made him incredibly attractive. Tyler’s charm entered everything he did and said, but it was especially enticing when he talked about storms. When he got particularly excited, he spoke with his hands, lips pulled in a grin that was ridiculously mesmerizing. You could have listened to him talk about the weather forever, which was a problem. 

It felt foolish on your part; not only was Tyler one of your brother’s best friends, but you thought he was miles out of your league. He had people practically drooling over him in the comments of his videos and making eyes the second he stepped into a building. He was a personality, wild and loud, but with a sweet side to make him even more likable. You told yourself the little crush would pass, but you worried that if Tyler kept being so damn nice to you, it’d be years before that happened. 

“So, this is how storm chasers spend their off time?” you said, propping your elbows up on the bar before something sticky touched your skin. You recoiled in a grimace. 

A chuckle sounded from Tyler as he handed you a napkin. “Here,” he said. “And yeah, it’s the perfect way to unwind. Though, word of caution, don’t drink too much. Storm chasing hung-over is a different kind of hell.” 

You wiped someone’s spilled drink from your elbows and nodded. “Noted.” There was still a lot you had to learn about the ins and outs of storm chasing, but you were excited to learn. A silence passed between you two, the space filled with the bar chatter. The place was busy for it being in the middle of nowhere; the Wranglers said it was because most people were either dedicated locals or fellow storm chasers looking to relax a little. 

Your brother and the rest of the team were at the old-timey jukebox, picking out songs that they then danced to, loud and rowdy as ever. But Tyler didn’t join them. Instead, he sat at the bar nursing a beer. Before you arrived, he was talking to an old man on the other side of him, cracking jokes like he’d known the stranger for years. 

It was like each minute you were there with them, you uncovered something else about Tyler. And maybe it was a couple of sips of alcohol that were already affecting your system but felt like he should know that. 

“You know, you’re a little different than I thought you’d be,” you admitted. 

He studied for a moment with a gaze that made you nervous, but not in a bad way. “Oh yeah? How’d you think I was gonna be?” 

You shrugged. “I watch the lives, mostly to make sure Boone is okay, but online you seemed…” You weren’t sure of what the right word to use was. You settled on, “More intense, I guess.” 

A smirk crept across his lips. “And I am not intense enough for ‘ya?” 

Your face felt hot, and the busy bar wasn’t helping. You adverted your eyes down to your drink and tried to laugh off your fluster. “I just mean, I thought you’d be like all of the time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up and you’d all think I wasn’t a good fit.” 

The smirk fell from Tyler’s face and was replaced with a furrow of his brows. “Are you crazy?” he said. “We needed someone like you on our team. I know you just started, but I think you’re the best fit we could’ve picked.” 

“Careful,” you teased. “Too many compliments like that might go to my head.” Even though you were pretty sure he was just trying to make you feel better, there was something in his tone that was convincing. 

“What are y’all doin’?” Boone’s voice filled your ears and suddenly his arm was slung around both your and Tyler’s shoulders, forcing you two to lean in a little bit closer to one another, but with Boone sandwiched in the middle. Your brother’s breath smelled like beer and there was that goofy smile on his face he always got when he had one too many. “The party’s on the dance floor!” 

You glanced over at the ‘dance floor’ which was a little space the Wranglers had carved out in front of the jukebox. A couple others joined them, but it wasn’t anything too wild. 

Tyler shook his head and finished his beer. “Your ass is gonna be sorry tomorrow, Boone. I told you we’re leaving bright and early.” 

Boone patted Tyler’s cheek. “I’ll be just fine.” 

Boone was not ‘just fine’ the next morning. What he was a pain in Tyler’s ass, which resulted in him being demoted to the backseat and you prompted to the passenger seat. Maybe that wasn’t the best move for Tyler because while he was driving, he found himself slightly distracted by you. 

You sat with your attention fixed out the window, watching the plains roll by with admiration. Every so often you fiddled with the radio per Lily’s request, but other than that you were quiet, observing. 

“Can we take a pit stop?” Boone moaned. Tyler glanced at in the rearview mirror, face paled and eyes squeezed shut. 

Tyler sighed. “I swear, if you throw up in my truck, Boone…” Tyler muttered, straining his eyes down the road for any sign of a gas station, but there didn’t look to be anything close. 

“There’s not another stop for half an hour tops,” you said, searching on your phone. 

“Great, cool, yeah,” Boone said. “Then you may wanna pull over or else everyone’s about to have a real bad time in here.” 

Tyler quickly pulled off to the side of the road and Boone scrambled out, across the road to empty his stomach. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve got to tell him,” Tyler sighed. 

“He won’t listen,” Lily said, unbuckling and sticking her face between you and Tyler. “I’ll make sure he’s all right. You two keep an eye on the weather.” She hopped out, leaving you and Tyler alone. 

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, wracking his brain for something to say to you. Normally he had no issue talking to people, but he found himself second-guessing his words when it came to you. But you beat him to the punch. 

“He’s never been too good at holding his alcohol,” you said. “I can’t tell you how many times I had to pick him up because he got sick at some friend’s bonfire back in high school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get hangovers so badly.” 

“All a part of his charm, I guess,” Tyler joked. “Does it run in the family?” 

You shook your head. “No, neither charm nor hangovers. Boone’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.” 

Tyler steadied himself a little, finding that thread of confidence in the back of his mind. He gazed at you, taking in the pretty features of your face. “I think you’re wrong on the charming bit.” 

You looked surprised, eyes a little wider. “Me? Charming?” You scoffed. “No way.” 

“Charming, smart, pretty…” Tyler trailed off, waiting for a reaction from you to let him know if he had swung and missed. You looked down, averting your eyes and clearing your throat. Out the windshield, he saw two figures moving in his peripheral vision and before you got the chance to say anything back, Boone and Lily reentered the car. 

“That’s my bad, you guys,” Boone said. 

You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your brother. “Feel better?” 

“Oh, yeah. Ready to chase this son of a bitch!” And you all were off again. Tyler wished Boone and Lily had held out for one more minute. He wanted some kind of response from you, even if it was one telling him he had no chance. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and one he felt bad about having, but he couldn’t help it. You were something new, a little unknown, and unpredictable. If there was one thing Tyler was good at, it was chasing through his apprehension. But instead of a tornado, you had quickly become the storm occupying his mind. 

You knocked for the fifth time on Boone’s door and tried calling him again, but one thing about your brother was that he was one of the heaviest sleepers of anyone you’ve ever met. That paired with his hangover from the night prior left him not answering you. You cursed under your breath, ready to set up camp in one of the rickety pool lounge chairs. 

There was an unpleasant pair of cockroaches in your motel room and the thought of sleeping with them scurrying about was out of the question. Since none of the other Wranglers had left their rooms, you wondered if you were the only one to notice them or the only one who had them. Whatever the case was, you couldn’t sleep in your room and apparently, you couldn’t sleep in Boone’s either because he was fast asleep. You couldn’t remember where Dani and Lily's rooms were to ask to bunk them. 

It seemed like you were out of luck until the door next to Boone’s opened and a groggy Tyler stepped out. “What’s goin’ on?” he yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. 

You hugged your arms closer to your body. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“Sorta,” he answered and you felt immediately guilty. “But it’s all right. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay out here. What’re you doin’ up anyway? It’s the middle of the night.” 

“There are cockroaches in my room,” you sighed. “I was trying to see if I could crash with Boone, but he sleeps like the dead.” 

Tyler chuckled. “That he does.” There was a beat and silent contemplation. You were about to tell him you’d crash in the camper or the truck, but he nodded his head back toward his room. “Come on,” he said. 

You stood, confused for a moment. “You can crash with me. I don’t think my room has cockroaches but for both our peace of mind, I wouldn’t look around too hard.” 

You weren't sure if you were elated or embarrassed. Overall, you were tired, exhausted even, and any thought of declining fled your mind the second Tyler turned to walk back inside, assuming you were following. So, you did. 

Tyler patted the edge of the bed. “It’s all yours,” he said, gathering one of the pillows in his arms. 

“What’re you doing?” 

He tossed the pillow onto the floor. “Praying for no cockroaches for the next couple of hours.” 

“No, wait,” you rushed out. “You can’t sleep on the floor.” 

“It’s all good-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“No way. I’m not kicking you out of your bed in your room.” You glanced at the bed, feeling your face grow hot at the thought of what you were about to suggest, but you couldn’t let him spend the night on the floor. “We can just…share.” 

Tyler stared at you for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say. He shifted his gaze between the pillow on the floor and the bed before landing back on you. “Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Hesitantly, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off your shoes, trying to ignore the shift of weight on the mattress as sat down opposite of you. It wasn’t as big of a deal as your mind was trying to tell you it was. It was just two co-workers, borderline friends, sharing a bed so no one had to face any cockroaches. That was all it was. But even in the darkness of the motel room, you couldn’t help the quick beat of your heart as you crawled under the covers, with your back facing Tyler. He did the same and before you could convince yourself what you were doing was not a big deal at all, Tyler’s soft snores filled the room. It was oddly reassuring. You fell asleep not long after him, a clear space between you but something in the air that wanted to draw you two closer. 

For a moment, when he woke up, Tyler thought the exchange he had with you in the middle of the night had been a dream. But when he rolled over to find your sleeping face inches away from his, he realized it was very much real. Your eyes were softly closed and your lips slightly parted as you slept. He found himself admiring you for just a moment, until there was a loud knock on his door, forcing him to get up. 

He threw it open without thinking much about it. Boone greeted him with a slightly worried expression pulled on his face. “Hey, man what’s-” 

“Have you seen my sister? She called me last night a bunch of times, but I didn’t hear it. And when I went to her room no one answered,” Boone said, quickly cutting Tyler off. 

“Boone?” Your voice sounded from behind Tyler and as soon as he saw the several emotions flicker across Boone’s face, he realized he may have made a mistake. 

Boone’s gaze flickered between you sleepily sitting up in Tyler’s bed and Tyler. “Dude!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is going on here?” 

It must have registered with you too how the situation looked. You hurried out of bed and stood at Tyler’s side. “Wait, hold on-” 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said to you. “I said no funny business,” he then said to Tyler. 

“It’s not like that,” Tyler rushed out. “I know that it looks like that, but it’s not. I swear.” 

“He’s right,” you added. “It’s not. I needed a place to crash because there were bugs in my room, and you wouldn’t answer your phone. Tyler offered to let me stay in his. That’s all.” 

Boone didn’t look too convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, blowing air from his cheeks. “You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you arrived,” Boone said. Both you and Tyler tried to defend yourself, even if Tyler hadn’t been super subtle about his ‘googly’ eyes. But Boone cut you both off with a wave of his hand. “Save it. I know both of you. You,” he pointed to Tyler. “Are the least subtle person I know. And you,” he pointed at you. “Have been talking about him since I started chasing with him.” 

Your eyes widened almost comically as you sputtered over your response. “I-I have not!” 

“Look,” Boone started, taking a deep breath. “You’re both adults. But if you’re gonna get into any funny business, for the love of the Lord himself, do not do it around me. Got it?” 

“Okay,” you answered, catching Tyler off guard. He expected you to brush your brother off and force Tyler to face the reality that you had no interest in him, but you didn’t. 

Boone looked to him for his answer. “Y-Yeah.” 

“Good,” Boone said. “We’re leavin’ in fifteen.” He turned on his heel and left the two of you in the doorway. Once he was out of earshot, a laugh sounded from your lips, a sweet sound he wasn’t expecting. 

“God, that was embarrassing,” you said, still laughing at the situation. 

Tyler couldn’t help but laugh too, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone in his motel room once more. “Is that true? You talk about me?” 

You hung your head, sheepishly and shrugged. “Maybe.” The idea of you talking about him made him feel on top of the world. “Is what he said about you true? Are you really not that subtle?” 

“I did invite you to sleep with me,” he joked, taking a step closer to you. You didn’t move away but instead closed the distance between you two even more. He searched your eyes for a sign that you were thinking the same thing he was, and when your gaze flickered to his lips for only a second, he got his confirmation. 

Tyler hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards just slightly as he leaned in. He kissed you slowly, sweetly as you hung your arms around his shoulders to bring him in even closer, the two of you pressed chest to chest. He felt you smile against his lips, a blissful feeling he didn’t to end.

[hell0mega]

hmmmm

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve’s parents send him on a gap year after high school in hopes that it’ll get him ready to apply to colleges and become a proper adult. They let him choose any of their three vacation homes so he chooses their condo in Paris.

He’s expected to find a job and himself.

The bakery down the block from the condo is owned by two old men who don’t wanna open anymore because they like sleeping in and sipping on their coffee on their balcony. Steve is happy to take over.

Especially when he sees the guy who works at the wine store across the road.

He’s in by 8 every morning, waving to the people coming in and out of the bookshop next to him and the bike repair shop next to them. His smile is contagious, and Steve often finds himself completely distracted by it even if he’s helping customers.

His long hair is always down when he gets there, but by the time Steve sees him leave in the afternoon, it’s pulled up and he has a sweaty sheen across his skin.

Steve decides to visit on his day off, maybe grab a bottle of wine even though he hates every wine he’s ever had to sip on at family functions.

But the man isn’t there when he stops by, or at least not at the counter. An older man is there, wrapping a bottle in paper for a customer who seems like they visit often.

It’s a small store, no bigger than the bakery, so it’s not like the guy could be hiding somewhere.

“Looking for something?” The older man asks as he walks around the counter towards Steve with a smile.

“Oh. Um.”

“You’re lookin’ for Ed right?” The old man’s smile turned into a smirk. “Ed! Customer!”

The man Steve had been seeing every morning and afternoon was suddenly rushing from the back of the store, clipboard in hand, hair sticking to his neck and forehead.

“Hi! What can I help you with?”

Steve could think of quite a few things he could help him with, but it probably wasn’t appropriate to say in front of someone else in his place of work.

“Sorry. Do you need me to speak French?” The man, Ed, asked in flawless French.

“No,” Steve assured. “I work in the bakery across the street. Just wanted to come by and say hi.”

Ed’s brows furrowed as he turned to the older guy who was already back at the counter trying to look busy.

“Does David need a bottle for something? He usually has Wayne pick his pairings.”

Steve shook his head. “No, not that I know of. I’ve just…um. Well, this is actually weirder now that I’m here. So I think I’ll go. Sorry to waste your time!”

Steve turned to go, but a hand grabbed his arm, tugging him back.

“Are you always this awkward?” Ed asked. Steve looked up from his feet to see him smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“Steve.”

“Steve. How about you come taste our sample bottle for the day? Maybe it’ll take the edge off,” Eddie offered, gesturing towards a side table that had an open bottle of wine and small sample glasses. “You like rosé?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Then let’s find out.”

Turns out Steve didn’t mind rosé that much, but maybe that was the company. The flavor was a bit less bitter than he was used to, going down much smoother without leaving a burning sensation on his tongue.

And later, after Eddie had talked to him for nearly an hour about himself and the store and his uncle who took him in and worked for him, Steve leaned in and got a taste of the rosé on Eddie’s tongue.

Steve decided he liked wine more than he thought.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Harpercollins wants authors to sign away AI training rights

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/18/rights-without-power/#careful-what-you-wish-for

Rights don't give you power. People with power can claim rights. Giving a "right" to someone powerless just transfers it to someone more powerful than them. Nowhere is this more visible than in copyright fights, where creative workers are given new rights that are immediately hoovered up by their bosses.

It's not clear whether copyright gives anyone the right to control whether their work is used to train an AI model. It's very common for people (including high ranking officials in entertainment companies, and practicing lawyers who don't practice IP law) to overestimate their understanding of copyright in general, and their knowledge of fair use in particular.

Here's a hint: any time someone says "X can never be fair use," they are wrong and don't know what they're talking about (same goes for "X is always fair use"). Likewise, anyone who says, "Fair use is assessed solely by considering the 'four factors.'" That is your iron-clad sign that the speaker does not understand fair use:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

But let's say for the sake of argument that training a model on someone's work is a copyright violation, and so training is a licensable activity, and AI companies must get permission from rightsholders before they use their copyrighted works to train a model.

Even if that's not how copyright works today, it's how things could work. No one came down off a mountain with two stone tablets bearing the text of 17 USC chiseled in very, very tiny writing. We totally overhauled copyright in 1976, and again in 1998. There've been several smaller alterations since.

We could easily write a new law that requires licensing for AI training, and it's not hard to imagine that happening, given the current confluence of interests among creative workers (who are worried about AI pitchmen's proclaimed intention to destroy their livelihoods) and entertainment companies (who are suing many AI companies).

Creative workers are an essential element of that coalition. Without those workers as moral standard-bearers, it's hard to imagine the cause getting much traction. No one seriously believes that entertainment execs like Warner CEO David Zaslav actually cares about creative works – this is a guy who happily deletes every copy of an unreleased major film that had superb early notices because it would be worth infinitesimally more as a tax-break than as a work of art:

https://collider.com/coyote-vs-acme-david-zaslav-never-seen/

The activists in this coalition commonly call it "anti AI." But is it? Does David Zaslav – or any of the entertainment execs who are suing AI companies – want to prevent gen AI models from being used in the production of their products? No way – these guys love AI. Zaslav and his fellow movie execs held out against screenwriters demanding control over AI in the writers' room for 148 days, and locked out their actors for another 118 days over the use of AI to replace actors. Studio execs forfeited at least $5 billion in a bid to insist on their right to use AI against workers:

https://sites.lsa.umich.edu/mje/2023/12/06/a-deep-dive-into-the-economic-ripples-of-the-hollywood-strike/

Entertainment businesses love the idea of replacing their workers with AI. Now, that doesn't mean that AI can replace workers: just because your boss can be sold an AI to do your job, it doesn't mean that the AI he buys can actually do your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/25/accountability-sinks/#work-harder-not-smarter

So if we get the right to refuse to allow our work to be used to train a model, the "anti AI" coalition will fracture. Workers will (broadly) want to exercise that right to prevent AI models from being trained at all, while our bosses will want to exercise that right to be sure that they're paid for AI training, and that they can steer production of the resulting model to maximize the number of workers than can fire after it's done.

Hypothetically, creative workers could simply say to our bosses, "We will not sell you this right to authorize or refuse AI training that Congress just gave us." But our bosses will then say, "Fine, you're fired. We won't hire you for this movie, or record your album, or publish your book."

Given that there are only five major publishers, four major studios, three major labels, two ad-tech companies and one company that controls the whole ebook and audiobook market, a refusal to deal on the part of a small handful of firms effectively dooms you to obscurity.

As Rebecca Giblin and I write in our 2022 book Chokepoint Capitalism, giving more rights to a creative worker who has no bargaining power is like giving your bullied schoolkid more lunch money. No matter how much lunch money you give that kid, the bullies will take it and your kid will remain hungry. To get your kid lunch, you have to clear the bullies away from the gate. You need to make a structural change:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Or, put another way: people with power can claim rights. But giving powerless people more rights doesn't make them powerful – it just transfers those rights to the people they bargain against.

Or, put a third way: "just because you're on their side, it doesn't follow that they're on your side" (h/t Teresa Nielsen Hayden):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/19/gander-sauce/#just-because-youre-on-their-side-it-doesnt-mean-theyre-on-your-side

Last month, Penguin Random House, the largest publisher in the history of human civilization, started including a copyright notice in its books advising all comers that they would not permit AI training with the material between the covers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/19/gander-sauce/#just-because-youre-on-their-side-it-doesnt-mean-theyre-on-your-side

At the time, people who don't like AI were very excited about this, even though it was – at the utmost – a purely theatrical gesture. After all, if AI training isn't fair use, then you don't need a notice to turn it into a copyright infringement. If AI training is fair use, it remains fair use even if you add some text to the copyright notice.

But far more important was the fact that the less that Penguin Random House pays its authors, the more it can pay its shareholders and executives. PRH didn't say it wouldn't sell the right to train a model to an AI company – they only said that an AI company that wanted to train a model on its books would have to pay PRH first. In other words, just because you're on their side, it doesn't follow that they're on your side.

When I wrote about PRH and its AI warning, I mentioned that I had personally seen one of the big five publishers hold up a book because a creator demanded a clause in their contract saying their work wouldn't be used to train an AI.

There's a good reason you'd want this in your contract; the standard contracting language contains bizarrely overreaching language seeking "rights in all media now know and yet to be devised throughout the universe":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/19/reasonable-agreement/

But the publisher flat-out refused, and the creator fought and fought, and in the end, it became clear that this was a take-it-or-leave-it situation: the publisher would not include a "no AI training" clause in the contract.

One of the big five publishers is Rupert Murdoch's Harpercollins. Murdoch is famously of the opinion that any kind of indexing or archiving of the work he publishes must require a license. He even demanded to be paid to have his newspapers indexed by search engines:

https://www.inquisitr.com/46786/epic-win-news-corp-likely-to-remove-content-from-google

No surprise, then, that Murdoch sued an AI company over training on Newscorp content:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/oct/25/unjust-threat-murdoch-and-artists-align-in-fight-over-ai-content-scraping

But Rupert Murdoch doesn't oppose the material he publishes from being used in AI training, nor is he opposed to the creation and use of models. Murdoch's Harpercollins is now pressuring its authors to sign away their rights to have their works used to train an AI model:

https://bsky.app/profile/kibblesmith.com/post/3laz4ryav3k2w

The deal is not negotiable, and the email demanding that authors opt into it warns that AI might make writers obsolete (remember, even if AI can't do your job, an AI salesman can convince Rupert Murdoch – who is insatiably horny for not paying writers – that an AI is capable of doing your job):

https://www.avclub.com/harpercollins-selling-books-to-ai-language-training

And it's not hard to see why an AI company might want this; after all, if they can lock in an exclusive deal to train a model on Harpercollins' back catalog, their products will exclusively enjoy whatever advantage is to be had in that corpus.

In just a month, we've gone from "publishers won't promise not to train a model on your work" to "publishers are letting an AI company train a model on your work, but will pay you a nonnegotiable pittance for your work." The next step is likely to be, "publishers require you to sign away the right to train a model on your work."

The right to decide who can train a model on your work does you no good unless it comes with the power to exercise that right.

Rather than campaigning for the right to decide who can train a model on our work, we should be campaigning for the power to decide what terms we contract under. The Writers Guild spent 148 days on the picket line, a remarkable show of solidarity.

But the Guild's real achievement was in securing the right to unionize at all – to create a sectoral bargaining unit that could represent all the writers, writing for all the studios. The achievements of our labor forebears, in the teeth of ruthless armed resistance, resulted in the legalization and formalization of unions. Never forget that the unions that exist today were criminal enterprises once upon a time, and the only reason they exist is because people risked prison, violence and murder to organize when doing so was a crime:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/11/rip-jane-mcalevey/#organize

The fights were worth fighting. The screenwriters comprehensively won the right to control AI in the writers' room, because they had power:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/01/how-the-writers-guild-sunk-ais-ship/

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Eva Rinaldi (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rupert_Murdoch_-_Flickr_-_Eva_Rinaldi_Celebrity_and_Live_Music_Photographer.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[cordspaghetti]

embarrassingly long post incoming but i have a quastion. can anyone who knows stuff about tailoring/clothing design speak on gerard’s suit jackets from the last leg of the mcr tour because i know in an interview marina toybina said she was really particular about those outfits and i feel like there is some cool & kind of unusual work there but i am So uneducated.

like they obvs have lots of waist suppression for thee lovely hourglass silhouette but another thing i noticed is that i feel like both men’s & women’s suit jackets are meant to lay as flat as possible across the chest as a sign of a Good Fit and these tend to not do that. they have the top half of what i saw one random website call “the dreaded X” creases that form around the button when the fit is too tight, but they don’t actually seem to be too tight because the lapels don’t pull way to the sides with arm movement like you’d see for even a good fit (i think…?)

it looks like the button has a kind of medium to low position with the waist taken in far enough that it has to ride up higher than usual to close (or at least rides up super easily, idk, this is my Guess), creating an excess of fabric around the lapels that either folds over or sticks out forwards

and it does this without deforming the shoulders/collar & also while keeping the lower front panels nice and flat—there’s extra fabric in the one area, but everywhere else the structure of the jacket is maintained. which is alllll to say this seems to me like a kind of subtle, “natural” way to add volume to a flat chest without using methods that would be read as drag or otherwise costume-y within the context of a stage performance, like padded undergarments or smth like that.

soo i am wondering if any of you think this is at all a plausible explanation for how the jackets are designed to fit and the illusion they’re meant to create or if it’s probably unintentional slash just a side effect of the jackets being manipulated by arm movements etc.. or if it is in fact possible but being achieved a different way, like with the darts. or if i’m just pointing out the obvious ?! maybe this is just how women’s suit jackets fit & move?

either way… wow what lovely work thank you marina toybina for Everything

(first two pics are by justinmaphoto and then gavin lloyd(?), last pic is by david watson, the others i’m not sure abt im so so sorry they’re from the dregs of my camera roll)

[ellsarchive]

Theo Nott Headcannons!! *.•

*.-{{ellsarchive}}-.*

Rebelogs are appreciated <3!!

Either sleeps for at least half of the day or never sleeps at all. This man has never had a normal nights sleep.

—> once, the Slytherins won the house cup. I kid you not when I tell you he didn’t sleep for two days and then slept for 20 hours straight.

Has never been angry in English

—> stubs his toe? Italian. Betrayed? Italian. Someone acting up? ITALIAN.

His arm WILL be around you at all times times whether you like it or not. Whether that’s an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the halls, a hand on your waist when you sit together, or arms wrapped around you as you sleep, is for you to find out.

Actually very loyal when in a relationship, but if he’s hung up on you whilst single he’s the most promiscuous man known to the wizarding world. It’s one of few distractions, in his eyes.

Speaks to you in Italian, saying the words he can’t bring himself to tell you in a way you’ll understand (assuming you don’t speak the language).

He knew he was in love when he found himself scribbling words on to a paper, his quill seeming to know nothing but your name and the way his soul screams it.

—> he’s never considered himself much of a writer. He took up the hobby after falling for you.

His mother taught him to play the piano as a child.

I wouldn’t say he “didn’t believe in love” before you, moreso he wasn’t sure if it was made for him. If he was meant for it. You made him feel so wrong.

Struggles with depression, it gets especially worse when his dad reaches out more.

He cried in the washroom when you took him to meet your parents.

—> your dad loved you despite you taking different paths than him, and your mother is still there. There’s nothing more to ask for. ‘Maybe that’s why he turned out him and you turned out you.’

—> Not long after, he received another letter from his father, and found himself crying into your arms for hours. He couldn’t even explain why, but you didn’t ask. You just held him. In that moment, he was sure his mother had brought you to him.

Offers you a smoke whenever he lights one, but not necessarily because he wants you to take it. He just feels wrong if he’s not offering you what he has.

Actually really nice, despite his sarcasm and apparent coldness. That may be who he seems to be, but anyone who bothers to look further will see what lies beneath.

Not necessarily quiet, but the most reserved of the group. Everyone knows him, but barely anyone knows him.

Lwk Noah (the notebook) coded, but in the “Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing. So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day.” Way.

Reads when he actually has the time, like when the dorms aren’t being used like a frat house and his life actually seems normal. He keeps it to himself, though.

Ended up buying his own first aid kit because you were always in his dorm patching him up.

—> what can he say, though? Mattheo’s always fighting, and he’d be a bad friend not to jump in. Don’t even get him started on when he fights for you, either.

When he fights, no emotion is poured into it. Instead of red hot anger that shoots through his veins and into his knuckles, he’s ice. Face straight as he beats men into the infirmary.

Dresses like if Jacob Elordi, David Beckham, and Brad Pitt had a fashion baby.

Never makes his bed (he’s not leaving it half of the time anyway)

Always says his favourite food is pasta but will DEVOUR a grilled cheese like no other

Loves chocolate chip cookies, holds a particular hatred for oatmeal cookies.

Dreams of people he loves being ripped away from him, and all he can do is beg for it not to happen.

—> sleep talks. Sometimes you’ll hear his faint pleads, and all you can do is hold him tighter and hope it ends soon. You never mention it after because he’d be embarrassed.

A broken, broken boy whose light shines through the breaks in his heart. He’s scared to glue it back together in case it will block out the light, but you’ve made him sure you’ll shine through him no matter what.

“Blue - Billie Eilish”

_.•*

Also please comment recs for a playlist I’m making for him, or if you’d like more! <33

[infizero]

quiet reserved voice shadow ALWAYS superior to shouty snarky hissing edgelord voice shadow. it just fits him so much better im sorry

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

"How dare you, now we're on a slippery slope to acknowledging that Tom is also not really an Animorphs character, he's a 98% hypothetical brother that Jake used to have before the series started" BUT ACTUALLY

I've had this thought in my head for months and never spat it out anywhere: tumblr girlies love to freak out over the whole "haunting the narrative" trope and that's what Tom is. Elfangor too in the more classic sense, but Tom is the fun new twist in the sense that we basically never get to interact with him in canon. He's at least mentioned in almost every if not every book and his body's there plenty, sure, but not him.

That is such a good point. Like, part of what I find so fascinating about Tom is that he witnesses huge chunks of the story, but does almost nothing because he has 0 agency. He's the only non-Animorph regularly present for battles and for the downtime in between, the only person period who has his level of insight into the Animorphs themselves (Jake especially, but also Rachel and Marco) while also having his level of insight into Yeerk Empire leadership.

He sees almost everything. He's there for the Animorphs' first mission and their last. He's there when the yeerks get the morphing power, when David kills Saddler, when Jara and Ket escape, when the taxxons go rogue. He's there, but he isn't.

Jake tells Ax in their first conversation: "I've lost a brother too" (#4). He says it to the reader: "I don't have a brother anymore" (#47). And then he doesn't, not anymore. Crayak said it all along: "Have you killed your brother yet?" (#27). Tom haunts the narrative, well before his death.

[hothammies]

definitely one of the best things the bear has done was equate claire to chef david and sydney to chef terry bc it makes it so much more obvious where they're going to go with the story - even though claire and syd have "ambiguous" roles of who is better in carmy's life (even if it's extremely obvious to us who is), the juxtaposition btwn chef david and chef terry is so stark and obvious to everyone about who's better it's not even funny 😭

they even gave sydney and chef terry matching headbands btw LMAO

the fact that they also had the guy who physically got carmy out of the fridge be named terry as well, while chef terry's talk to him in s3e10 was what got him partially out of the fridge mentally is... wild to say the least. making the conscious effort to name the characters like that was definitely a choice

also sydney waiting for him by the door after he got out when claire left while he was still in it? that's some delicious storytelling right there

[thevoidstaredback]

Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out!

The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.

"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.

"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.

"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.

Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!

The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.

"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.

Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.

Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!

"Slow down," Wonder Woman tried to placate, "What's going on?"

Now it was Constantine's turn to talk. "The US Government are more aware of magic then any of us-" He clearly meant the JLD. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they somehow hid it until now is baffling."

Since when is the US Gov. aware of anything? Flash quietly wondered.

Deadman, visible to everyone and slightly calmer than before, said, "It's been brought to my attention that your government as been targeting my people." He held up his hand and raised his voice to stop anyone from interrupting him before they could. "They've taken a child."

This time, both the ghost and the occultist allowed the noise to overtake the room. Superman was the one to put a stop to it by directly asking the two, "What do you mean they've taken a child?"

Zatanna, fashionably late, entered the room and clicked on the projector like this entrance had been practiced. If Flash didn't know any better, he would've thought she had practiced it. As the screen lit up, she took place beside her two teammates. "Phantom is a small time hero in a nowhere town in Illinois - at least, it usually sticks to Illinois - called Amity Park. We've been keeping tabs on the place, though Deadman here is the only one to have ever had repeated contact."

On the projector screen was the picture of a child near or in his mid-teens. He wore a black HAZMAT suit with white accents, white knee high boots, and white elbow gloves. His hair was white and his eyes the colour of cartoon radioactivity. He was snarling in the photo, obviously having been taken during a fight, if the ready stance was anything to go by.

When Zatanna moved to the next slide, it was an overshot of a place that was somewhere between being a town and a city. It was big enough that not everyone could possibly hope to know everyone, but small enough that everyone knew someone who knew someone. Based on the experience of several heroes, as well as several different statistics, it didn't look like the kind of place that would have a lot of police needed crime, let alone a dedicated hero.

"Several World Ending events were started and stopped here." Constantine continued, "Remember six months ago, when natural disasters erupted all over the planet? We tracked the epicenter to here. Same as four months ago when three quarters of the planet's population took an impromptu nap."

The slide was changed to show an empty field. "Two months ago," Deadman picked up, "The entire town and everyone in it disappeared off the face of this planet." Again, he waited out the uproar from the Justice League, continuing as though uninterrupted after they'd quieted down. "Three days later, it all reappeared," The picture was replaced by another overshot of the town, but there was a green tint to it. "A week later, I was called back to my home in the I̷͈̋̿̀̚n̶͙̙̲͇̤̪̅͋͘f̶̟̰̬̤̀̉̕i̵͕̫͖͔̟͝n̸̮͙̋̎̆̈́̂̈i̷̬̫̤̱̱̒͌͌t̷͉̪̐̂̿͝è̴̙̊ ̴̪̠͍̞͆̌̀R̵̻͙̺̯͌e̸̫͉̖̙̖͐͆͊͠ȧ̵̭̻̩̙͇̔͜l̴͔̝͒m̸͖̦̟̠̭̥̄̇͆̀s̶̢͉̳̪̦̹̑͠. That is where I offically met young Phantom."

"Why is it green?" Aquaman wondered.

"Were you keeping tabs on the place before or after this all happened?" Batman asked over him.

"Before," Zatanna answered, "An interdimensional rift opened up in the town eleven months and five days ago. A second one opened up in the same town ten months and two days ago."

"Why didn't we know about it?" Flash asked, nothing else joining the pure curiosity in his voice. "This kinda seems like something all of use should've been told about."

The magician shook her head. "Because this is our area of expertise, not yours. None of you could've done anything except make things worse if you knew."

The speedster nodded, accepting the answer easily. He didn't like working with magic. He didn't understand it, and it took way too long to actually start believing in the stuff, but he knew there was no way he'd be useful in situations that relied on magic. Best leave that to the professionals.

"I went to the town to scope things out and met Phantom," Constantine said, the slide changing to show another picture of the young hero. He was hiding in an alley, staring at his hands with something akin to fear in his eyes. "He let me take a look at the rift, explained a few things to me, and then we set up a means of contact, though he only ever talks to Deadman."

"Wait," Robin spoke up from where he was beside Batman, "I know that place!" Batman didn't show any reaction other than turning to look at his protege. Robin, for his part, glided smoothly past the look from his mentor. "Me and the rest of my team passed through there about three months ago. We met the town hero, but it wasn't Phantom."

"What do you mean?" Wonder Woman asked.

"The town's hero is called Red Huntress. She's helped out the Young Justice a few times in the past few months with some supernatural issues. She deals mostly with ghosts, though."

Deadman bristled, obviously not liking something that the boy had said.

"Oh?" Superman asked, "What did she tell you guys?"

"That Phantom's one of her rogues." Robin said, "Apparently, he causes a lot of property damage and doesn't stick around to help with relief efforts. She told us that he also kidnapped the mayor, and has attacked the local high school too many times to count."

"That's a load of shit," Constantine muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "Phantom has only ever worked to protect his town. Red Huntress didn't show up until two months after he started his work!"

"We wait to act until we have more information," Batman, the paranoid bastard, ordered, "As soon as we know exactly who we can trust and what we're going into, we'll stick to recon."

Deadman slammed his hands on the table. "You're government took a child! This is not the time for recon! This is time to act!"

"Recon." Batman stood. "Robin, I want a report from you about your team's interactions with Red Huntress, as well as a report from herself. Constantine and Zatanna, I want a full report on everything you know about Amity Park and whatever's going on there. Dismissed." Then, he walked out of the room, Robin trailing closely after him.

"Um, Bat?" Fash stood, stopping Batman and Robin in the doorway, they both turned to face him, "Maybe we should hear them out? This sounds serious."

Batman stared at Flash for a moment longer before walking back into the room. He gestured for the three present members of the Justice League Dark to continue.

Deadman had a small look of relief flash over his face. "Your government's been sending ghost hunters to Amity Park for the better part of a year now. They were dead set on catching Phantom, and now they have. We don't know-" He cut himself off. After a few seconds, he disappeared completely. Constantine's and Zatanna's phones both went off. Nearly an entire minute after Deadman disappeared, the alarms in the Watchtower went off.

"Fuck," Flash swore.

Part 2 Part 4

[greenfiend]

The Significance of Lover’s Lake and Byler (Theory)

'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact

Yes we're lovers, and that is that (Heroes by David Bowie)

Part 2 here

(Warning: This post has mentions of sex (nothing graphic)… if you’re uncomfortable with that please do not proceed.)

So, Lover’s Lake has existed within the show ever since season 2, when Will mapped out the entirety of Hawkins. The lake is shaped like a heart (keep this in mind for later) thus the name “Lover’s Lake”. Makes sense within the town of Hawkins, but does not provide an explanation on a subtextual level. None of the “lovers” existing within the show has been associated with the lake (you could say Steve/Nancy but honestly it’s a stretch since they never actually rekindled their romance.)

This leads me to the question… why call the lake “Lover’s Lake” without associating any lovers to it?

Because maybe, there will be lovers connected to it… but they aren’t lovers… yet.

Okay, let’s get back to the shape. A heart. ❤️ Hm. Now which character within the show is most associated with hearts? Which character is even referred to as the heart by their love interest?

Mike.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he’s one part of the “lovers” here. Thus ruling out many other romantic pairings within the show. Leaving only two pairings: Mike/El and Mike/Will. I won’t go into detail on why I believe Mike and El will inevitably break up, you can read a lot of different analyses for that. So that leaves… Mike/Will. Not lovers yet.

Okay, here’s the part where I may get crucified. The definition of lovers.

Please put your pitch forks down for this.

Lovers usually refers to two people in a sexual relationship outside of marriage.

With all the subtext (and actual text) around sex and sexuality, and how we see Will struggle with his own sexuality, there is a likely conclusion here. He’s going to confront his sexuality. To do so, he will have sex. With whom? Well, with the one person he loves the most, the one he affectionately refers to as the heart… his best friend… Mike.

Now, where’s this going to happen? What better location than somewhere empty and secluded.

Reefer Rick’s lakeside house.

Now, who is “Reefer Rick”?

Also known as, Rick Lipton, Reefer Rick is a drug dealer who’s closely acquainted with Eddie.

He’s an enigma. We never see him. All that is known about him are the things mentioned by other characters.

He’s currently in jail apparently for dealing drugs. Also, he seems like a town pariah.

Also, he isn’t too keen on Fast Times (returned on time), at least not as much as “Cheech and Chong” (returned late each time.) That shot at 53 minutes and 5 seconds in Fast Times doesn’t do it for him, I guess. Unlike watching two guys get high.

His name choice is an interesting one.

“Reefer” Rick Lipton.

“Reefer” is a synonym for “marijuana cigarette”. Okay, makes sense, he is a drug dealer after all. But why the term “cigarette”? Well… there’s this other word that also happens to be a synonym for “cigarette”…

Then Rick… short for “Richard”. Richard is one of the few names out there with a nickname that is also slang for male genitalia… “Dick”.

Then finally… Lipton.

As Robin says, spelled like Lipton tea. Now, why would the writers use the name “Lipton” and even reference the tea company if there were no significance to it? They wouldn’t. We know this about them.

So why “Lipton”?

Let’s do a bit of research here, shall we?

The founder of Lipton tea was a man named Thomas Lipton.

Thomas Lipton just so happens to have been a closeted homosexual man who had a long term relationship with another man whose name is… *drumroll please*

William Love.

Okay, that can’t be just a coincidence right?

So moving on to Reefer Rick’s house.

We see glimpses of his living room, kitchen, and briefly his bedroom.

Jason and his buds are searching for Eddie and this involves looking under the mattress? As if, Eddie could successfully hide under there? Haha okay sure.

The angle of this shot is interesting too, because the bed is essentially being shown off to us.

This bed with a blue blanket and yellow sheets. Hm. Interesting.

Keep in mind this scene is essentially unnecessary. They could have easily shown Jason et al searching for Eddie without creating an entire new set for a room that’s only used in one single insignificant shot. Therefore, I do not think it’s unreasonable to believe this is used for foreshadowing.

Then we also get this shot from outside the window into the bedroom.

Look familiar? I thought so too.

Okay. Now for my theory/prediction.

As I mentioned earlier, Will is currently struggling with his own sexuality and feels a lot of shame and internalized homophobia. There’s also a lot of evidence that Mike is experiencing the same thing. Unlike Will, Mike conforms to the society’s expectations. He dates El, performing as her boyfriend. This is comparable to Nancy’s arc in season 1. She also conforms, and like Mike, leaves her best friend behind. We all know how that ended.

Now, what better way to wrap up the show than to have Mike correct his sister’s mistake? To have Mike reject societal expectations in favour of his best friend?

Okay so this is my theory.

Mike and Will have their first kiss an episode or two prior to 5x07. Tensions are high, but they’re busy fighting interdimentional monsters along side their friends.

Then comes 5x07 which somehow leaves Mike and Will alone by Lover’s Lake. The tension between them reaches an all time high, leading to a passionate kiss and then… more. Let’s just say it involves that blue and yellow bed.

At the same time as these two become the lovers they were meant to be, another character is being saved, or perhaps being brought back to life. Perhaps another red head, one we all know and love. Yes, a major parallel and contrast to Steve/Nancy’s sex scene in season 1, which featured Barb dying. But because Mike is rejecting conformity and being authentic, another character lives instead.

I mean, what better way to represent the beauty of the love and intimacy between these two boys? Their love is literally bringing back life to the world.

So yeah, basically I’m saying that Mike and Will expressing their love for each other will save Max.

This also wouldn’t be the first time that Max’s survival is correlated with their relationship. As I doubt that it was merely a coincidence that in episode 4x04 we have Mike’s genuine monologue to Will, then we have Max surviving Vecna. In contrast to 4x09, which features a forced monologue from Mike to El, followed by Max losing to Vecna and barely surviving.

So, as their bond strengthens, Max’s life bar goes up (so to speak). If something interferes with their bond, Max’s outcome is more dire.

The writers have also been associating Mike/El with death…

[Tumblr only allows a limited number of images so pretend we have one of El holding dead flowers and another image of the cut scene from 3x05 with Mike/El having a moment cutting to a dead body on the hospital floor]

Mike/Will on the other hand have been associated with life. The birds chirping in the background of their final scene together, the flowers blooming between them as they stand together. Plus, blue plus yellow does equal green after all. Which is the most commonly associated colour with life.

🌿🌱🌳

To conclude, I just want to say that I personally think this would be a nice way to end their arc. I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with associating Mike/Will with anything sexual… but the show has been doing this already. Whether you like it or not, Mike and Will have been shown implicitly and explicitly that they desire each other both romantically and sexually. The fact that they have sexual desire for each other does not minimize or trivialize their friendship and love, it’s an aspect of it… adding another dimension to their relationship.

Do I think or hope they would show anything pornographic? Absolutely not (do I even have to say this?) But explicit like Steve/Nancy? Yes. Do I think they’ll be only 14/15 years old when this occurs? No. This will likely happen after a time jump.

Being authentically yourself and not conforming is overall a major theme of the show. I mean it’s called Stranger Things after all. Will people be upset by the ending of this arc? Bylers included? Absolutely. Many people within the town of Hawkins and people watching the show will both show disgust for it. But that’s the point. It’s not “normal” and that’s okay. Different is good, and can be a beautiful and wonderful thing. We all just need to open our minds and hearts a bit. I’m not just talking about the GA; many Bylers are also closed minded and stuck in their ways too. Let’s all try to work on that, shall we?

Despite the opinions of others, Will and Mike will choose to love each other which will inevitably lead to their defeat of Vecna. Love concurs all. It may be cheesy and cliche but personally? I think that’s a beautiful thing. We all can learn to love more.

Anyway, would love to know your thoughts on this.

Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

Part 2 here