#IT RELEASED IN 1986 OKAY

[fizzseed]

"who wants to live forever" by queen playing while the party enters the upside down for the last time, ready to end this once and for all.

there's no chance for us / it's all decided for us / this world has only one sweet moment set aside for us / who wants to live forever?

who dares to love forever / when love must die?

we can have forever / we can love forever / forever is our today

the instrumentation and percussion would work so well, you wouldn't even need to remix it!!!

[steviewashere]

Thinking about a fic idea right now where Steve comes out (maybe with a little Steddie...maybe; might be best to start them pre-relationship in this). Walk with me here.

Steve Harrington who has always been a huge Wham! fan. And then eventually a huge George Michael fan. He's got all their albums. Collects magazines with interviews in them (y'know, if there's a U.S. release). So, he's pretty much up to date with all news, music info; that kind of thing. He's always on the money about when interviews are.

George Michael who comes out publicly in 1998 after his arrest. Which, you can watch the clip from the interview here. He's thirty-four at the time, had been private about his sexuality and romantic life up until then.

Steve who's freshly in his thirties.

He's thirty-one. He's had some thoughts in regards to his sexuality for years now. Since Robin came out to him in 1985, he's thought about little things. The way certain guys walked that caught his attention, maybe the plushness of their lips, how they styled their hair. She's introduced him to queer culture at the time—pride parades & protests, some lingo, the handkerchief code, etc. So, he's well aware of a lot of things before the CNN interview airs. He hasn't made any hard connections between his sexuality and the thoughts in his head; maybe he's had a few, soft, questioning moments like: Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Is this what I really think or am I searching for something I don't actually want? Am I just being too observant?

(Okay, thinking about pre-Steddie now. And a lot of platonic soulmates Stobin. Also, I totally (accidentally) half-wrote a fic. Stay with me here.)

Eddie's been a part of Steve's life since 1986. Somehow he survives (don't ask me the fine details, I don't know). And Steve tries his hand at being Eddie's friend because he kind of—no, really—wants a guy friend who's around his age. Cue their shenanigans: the chaos they cause together, the pranks they pull on their other friends, the shit Eddie makes Steve get into (drag racing (cars), stealing scrap from the junkyard, throwing rocks over the quarry to guess the impact they made, other little town shit). Eddie who learns that Steve's a true ally to Robin, so he comes out to Steve, too. They all form a very great, deep bond of solidarity. Become roommates outside of Hawkins, somewhere a little more progressive. They protect each other. Listen to each other.

Cue the day in 1998 when the CNN interview is being aired live, unseen up until then. Steve's already ready to watch, having taken up the middle cushion on the couch. Robin's on his left, criss-cross and making a set of beaded bracelets for the three of them. Eddie's on Steve's right, uncapping a couple bottles of beer to pass over. And they're watching with Steve because Steve likes George Michael and, well, they like Steve and his interests. So they're all there when George Michael comes out. They're all there when the words are said live.

Robin and Eddie are wide-eyed, then laughing something a bit triumphant, high-fiving over Steve's head, maybe chanting something: "One of us! One of us!" Maybe becoming huge George Michael fans as they speak. But, Steve's silent. He's sitting on the edge of his cushion, palms down on his thighs, staring off into nothing. All the celebration stops as the interview continues, words being missed. And Robin and Eddie share an odd glance, a questioning one. Until, finally, Robin asks, "Steve-O? You OD over there?"

Steve blinks back into existence. Mutters, "Did George Michael just come out on live TV?" Eddie answers him truthfully, voice a bit soft and concerned. Steve licks his lips, doesn't move his eyes from his socked feet. "...He knew for a little while," he comments. "Right? He knew for a while."

"Sure, Steve," Eddie answers again. "He probably knew about himself for a long time. Probably...Honestly, probably while he was still in Wham."

Maybe Steve nods at that. Maybe he just stays kind of stoic, thinking too hard. "He's thirty-four," Steve points out.

"That he is," Robin answers this time. "Thirty-four and proudly out."

Steve hums some sort of acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the TV, moment drifting away. He sort of watches in a daze. Up until he turns in for the night. Well after Robin has slumped over on the couch and Eddie's gone to bed earlier—because he has work, or so Eddie's said. And Steve maybe sits in his bedroom, up at his headboard, looking down at his albums. At his Wham! and George Michael albums. Turning the tapes over in his hands, reading the track lists, maybe tracing the edges of the cases with his thumbs. Thinking about how George had said he was telling his life story, even through some of his earlier solo work. He's thinking about how successful George Michael has been. And then he thinks about how George Michael came out later in his life. In his thirties, not in his twenties, not in his teens. Sure, yes, it was definitely more negatively criticized to do so, but it means something to Steve. To be thirty-four and freshly out. And he thinks, too, about being thirty-one and things clicking into shiny clarity—he's into guys, too. He's into women, but he's into guys. That word, "bisexual" looking like the final jigsaw piece. To be thirty-one and proudly out, too.

And he's comforted in that thought, as he drifts off to sleep.

And when he wakes up in the morning, he bustles around Eddie and Robin in the kitchen. They make a shared breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast with jam. They sit at the dining table, forks against plates, shooting the shit back and forth.

Steve cuts a slice of sausage, puts it in his mouth, eats as usual. And just as the conversation is beginning to drift again, he finally speaks what's on his mind. "I'm bisexual," he's able to proudly state.

Maybe Eddie and Robin cheer, too for that. They ask him for his taste in guys. Maybe they tease him a little. Maybe Eddie realizes he fits the bill a little; maybe he waits a little bit before taking a shot, but he still does eventually.

And right before they head off for their respective, regular lives outside of the comfortable space of their apartment, Robin knocks their shoulders together. "Proud of you," she states. "Thirty-one and proudly out. How does it feel?"

They're in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes because Eddie left for work already with a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. They're in the kitchen, the lights a little fluorescent like the Starcourt bathroom. They're in the kitchen, in each other's orbits, two friends who've seen it all and will continue to see the world together.

"It feels...I feel good. Excited."

Robin smiles at him, something soft and understanding. And as his focus goes back to the plate he's about to hand off, she snorts. "So, Eddie, huh?" And he scoffs, rolling his eyes. She just laughs to herself. Then, when she's calmed a little bit, she states, "He kind of looks like Rowlf. You and I have a thing for Muppets, Stevie. Muppets."

And after their laughter dies down and they live out the rest of the day, Steve thinks about how he can send a letter of thanks to George Michael. And maybe he cherishes those albums a little closer. And he is confident in himself for the first time in a while, all because the representation he didn't know he was seeking, is finally right in his face.

Sorry that got long. But I'm just thinking about Steve who comes out later in his life. Maybe he couldn't make those connections because he didn't have the safe atmosphere to do so; feared the worst if his parents ever realized he didn't care too much about women sometimes, if his eyes drifted to men a little too much, fearing that they'd catch his contemplation. Maybe he found his safe space through Robin and Eddie, but needed a little more of a push and he just didn't find it yet. Up until now.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟻

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), language, sexual tension, misogynistic language, toxic masculinity mentioned, some fluff

Word Count: 4777

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

1986

Ben took a firm hold of your throat as you hung onto the table underneath you and continued to pound you with forceful movements with his cock. With one strong thrust in between curses, his fingers around your throat from the back grew even tighter until he began to spill inside of you, releasing a loud growl on top of you. He then pressed his hips against your ass. You were convinced that, if you were a regular supe, you would break under the intense pressure he applied to you as he continued to penetrate you while he choked you hard.

That was just one of those moments when he didn't really care if you came with him or not.

When Ben finished spilling inside you, he gave you a very hard spanking on your ass after withdrawing his hand from your throat. “That felt good, but you need to learn how to stay silent and stay still when I fuck your cunt,” he grumbled. 

You muttered, “I don't like it when you're being too harsh on me,” as he stared in awe at the thick ropes dripping from your swollen pussy. 

He whispered, “Come on,” planting a kiss on your forehead before gathering his cum and inserting it into your pussy. “You're a supe; you can't even feel sore; you heal in seconds.”

“Yes, but in any case, I don't like it. You could try to be a little more kind.” 

“You're complaining way too much nowadays.”

“I simply want you to be a little more sympathetic. Is it too much for you?” As you waited for him to finish, you looked at him with a pained expression.

“Are you angry because I didn't let you come?” showed his amusement at your sour attitude.

Since you knew Ben's character from the start and you didn't voice any complaints for months, Ben failed to understand the recent change in your attitude. But he felt a little uncomfortable because you were attempting to get closer to him throughout the sexual interaction lately.

“It's difficult to resist giving you a quick fuck when you're wearing that sexy suit, as it makes me so fucking aroused. You already know that I'm not easy to handle, but I'll do my best to be gentle, okay?” he said, since he did not want you to leave his van with a sad face after a satisfying sexual activity. After all, you were trying your best to satisfy his needs.

He kept his cum within yours and played with your clit a little bit longer as you remained motionless. Given how often you had sex in a single day, you were fortunate that your superior genetics prevented you from being pregnant. 

You asked him, “Will you be joining the after party when Gala is over?” as he tucked himself in his pants. 

Ben said in a harsh voice, “Of course,” watching you adjust your skirt and pull up your soaked underwear while avoiding eye contact. “But I need something to do first.”

You answered, “Okay,” knowing that he wouldn't answer any more questions. 

He noticed that you were wearing an unhappy expression as you hurriedly fixed your messy hair, and he gave you a long, gentle kiss on the nape of your neck while giving you a warm hug from behind. “I'll be more gentle next time.”

“You say the same thing every time, yet every time you get harsher with me.” You said in an icy voice, “I'm not sure if you're trying to beat me or fuck me, Ben.”

Ben immediately turned you toward him as his body tensed. “I'm not trying to harm you in any way, of course. I just know that you are extremely strong. Nothing is capable of harming you.” 

“Well, my body might not be vulnerable, but my feelings are,” you said with a sigh. When you realized he had no idea how harsh he was on you, you attempted to break free of his hug. 

Ben tightened his hold around your abdomen to keep you from escaping him. “Okay, I got the message. The next time, I'll be as slow and gentle as you wish.” 

You just gave him a nod.

He felt a little guilty for being too harsh after seeing the hurt expression on your face, so he kissed you gently on the lips and ran his fingers over your cheek. 

“I'm not trying to harm you in any way. It's just difficult to maintain control when I'm with you, but I promise I'll do better. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Ben,” you said in a whisper as you gave him a quick kiss in return and gave in to his hug. 

As he began to dance with you and spin you around, he grabbed one of your hands. He leaned back and kissed you firmly in between your giggles, saying, “I'll be a good fucking gentleman when I'm dancing with you tonight, though you don't know how to dance properly like me.” 

Ben entered Stan Edgar's room, took a quick look around, and then sat down in front of the large table in front of the chair. 

Ben lit a cigarette inside the room and asked, “Why did you invite me to your feet this time?”

“Let's just have a nice little conversation,” he stated, casting a disapproving glance at Ben's cigarette. 

“About?”

“How is Payback doing overall? I heard that you haven't been as excited to go to film events lately.”

“Who fucking told you this?” Ben inquired, annoyed that people were constantly informing him about his behavior as if he were just a kid. 

“Remember that everyone is constantly watching you, so try not to get too worked up too soon. After all, you're the biggest and strongest Supe ever—Soldier Boy.”

Star Edgar said, “How's your relationship with Y/N?” when Ben didn't respond and kept smoking. 

“What relationship?” Ben, displeased with Stan Edgar's cunning tone, asked aggressively. He was constantly up to something.

“You don't need to keep it a secret from me. My eyes are always on everything, all at once, as you are already aware. You're continuously in her van, or she's in yours. I'm not even mentioning that you've been practically living in her place for the past month. You've been neglecting your duties to our country a little too much recently, Soldier Boy.”

Ben's mouth clinched at Stan Edgar's remarks since he detested being searched out, watched, or having his behavior analyzed, and that's exactly what he was doing to him at that moment.

“Are your incompetent staff members spying on me in order to increase their pay? Do they also give a head to you under your stupid desk?”

“You're going too far. All I'm asking is that you fulfill your duties.” Stan Edgar got up and grinned while sipping his coffee. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“For your own sake, you had better not provoke me. You're pressuring me to give you a hard punch right now, and you know I'm not that patient.”

Stan Edgar went on, "It's about the mission I gave you and Y/N last month,” disregarding Ben's threats. “You were told to kill everyone there, but you didn't.”

When Stan Edgar mentioned that stupid mission, Ben's body tensed up, but he waited for him to continue while maintaining the same attitude.

“Y/N persuaded you not to kill them there, according to one of my soldiers. It wasn't right of you to leave them alive.”

Ben excused himself by saying, “There were kids among them.” He couldn't decide if you had persuaded him to make the choice or not. “I'm not a bad person.”

“You're not, of course. However, a mission is a mission. It's never easy to be a soldier, no one ever said. Nobody knows this better than you. However, this was not the first time. She has been supporting you in making decisions similar to those in certain situations. Am I wrong?”

Ben ignored him and kept smoking weed in the room. “We are a fucking team.”

“But you're the leader,” Stan Edgar said. “People began arguing that you're listening to a woman's orders, which you may not be aware of. It's been said that a lady controls the most powerful Supe on the planet. Do you even know whats going on around you?” 

“I'm not fucking listening to anyone, you fuckface.” Ben angrily rose up and gestured to Stan Edgar's face. “If I fucking held your head and squeezed my hand a bit, your useless brain would be all over the place, so don't push my fucking nerves.”

“I'm not indicating, of course, that I agree with them. But you have to stop allowing people to say stuff like that. Our nation's soldiers look up to you; they idolize you, and their kids dream to be just like you. However, how can men or soldiers in our nation ever respect Soldier Boy if they believe he is listening to a woman during a crucial mission?”

Ben remained silent and stood by the window, surveying the yard. 

“Never allow a woman to control or manipulate you. Even if you're not really acutely aware of it at the moment, that is what she is doing to you. I spoke with Crimson Countess a few days ago, and I've already decided that she will soon join your team. Undoubtedly, your squad will be asked if they want her on the team or not. She will be obedient and docile, and this is an excellent opportunity to reveal your real self to the world once more. You need to put things right again. It's vital for safeguarding your image.” 

Ben just said, “Fuck you and everyone,” since he didn't want to say anything more, but his mind was racing with thoughts that were about you.

“Be the hero everyone needs.”

Present

Ben was thinking about how you were struggling with your powers and what had happened in Herogasm when he woke up quite early in the morning. Nothing was going as he had anticipated, and things were just getting worse than he had planned. He began to feel a little insecure, though he didn't show you. He was used to getting what he wanted, after all. 

In spite of everything, he felt comforted to see you resting sweetly in his bed because you chose to, rather than because you had to, as you had been forced to do weeks earlier. Ben couldn't contain his excitement at the idea. 

He couldn't help but smile a little when you whined in your sleep, but he did his best not abuse the fragile trust you had  by firmly resting his side on the bed and not touching you, watching your back. 

Your ass had other ideas while you slept soundly, though. Unavoidably, Ben's cock disagreed, as his hardness was evident from your ass' forceful contact with his cock like you were trying to get him to take action. 

Your ass was practically rubbing against him as though he tried to think something else. Ben tried to ignore his aching erection, kept his eyes closed, and didn't touch you, even though he wasn't sure if your sleeping body was trying to relax or reach an orgasm at this time. 

But he opened his eyes as he smelled the blood all over the room. 

When you heard Ben calling your name, you mumbled something in an angry tone.

Ben said, “I guess you're bleeding down there,” and you opened your eyes right away. 

You muttered, “Oh, fuck,” as you swiftly moved on the bed and checked between your legs. You felt ashamed and disgusted when you saw your bloody underwear and the bed. “I'm sorry.”

Ben continued to stare between your legs and the blood all over the sheets before saying, “Hey, it's alright. Our life is now a bit more colorful.” 

As you struggled to get out of bed without making more mess, you couldn't help but smile at what he said. But when the truth set in, you realized that you hadn't had your period for quite a very long time. 

“Ben, can you check there to see if there are any peds around?” you said after you failed to find any in the restroom. 

“Sure. But what does it actually look like? Of course, I'm familiar with women's underwear, but not with pussy protection.”

“Haven't you seen one before? You'll know when you find one,” you said, pressing your smile.

“I wonder if they upgraded peds too,” Ben muttered, and hurriedly went through every part of the wardrobe before finding the winged pussy thing and handing it to you.

Ben couldn't help but smile as he observed the blood on the bed. It was just like the first time he took you in as a coach, only with a lot less blood, of course. Time flies. He quickly gathered all of the bloodied sheets, exited the room, and placed them in Frenchie's room's washing machine.

You began to feel a little better after seeing Ben already changing the sheets.

He asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly to him. “I guess I should have slept in my own bed.”

Ben instantly replied, “Of course not,” as he started to get dressed. “That you slept here pleases me, actually. In any case, your bed is excessively small and completely useless. You're welcome at any time, baby.”

“I guess it is,” you said with a small chuckle as you examined his massive muscles flexing as he put on a shirt.

He turned to face you and asked, “Do you still want to do some training?” He repressed his smile when he saw you checking his body.

“Yeah, of course.”

Ben walked slowly toward you and said, “We can delay to tomorrow; you don't have to push yourself.” He spoke in a sympathetic manner. He did not want you to push yourself too hard during intense training when your body was more vulnerable than usual.

This time, you couldn't stop laughing. “I'll be bleeding tomorrow too, Ben.”

He couldn't resist a grin as he saw your amusement. “Well, sweetheart, I'm not the best pussy health expert, it seems.”

“It seems so,” you said, smiling shyly at him.

Butcher questioned, “Something happened last night?” out of the blue as you were enjoying your breakfast peacefully.

“Like what?” Your face reddened, quite unsure of his question.

“Damn, don't get too excited. As reported by Frenchie, you vanished for a bit, and your t-shirt was torn. To develop a strong connection built on trust, it would be preferable if we didn't hold any secrets. Don't you think?”

After exchanging glances with Ben, you at last spoke: “I fought Noir. He watched us from a distance, and I tracked him. As you may know, he was a former teammate of mine; in fact, we were very good friends. Despite my attempts to communicate with him, he persisted in his attacks, so I just defended myself until he gave up. That's it.”

Ben's body stiffened when you told Butcher how near you were to Noir. Talking about him always made Ben furious, and he couldn't help but feel envy welling up within him once more. But at least you two were no longer on speaking terms, so he restrained himself from saying something sour, which would make you feel uncomfortable.

“Fuck me,” Butcher whispered in shock. “Only God knows what he is up to now. It would have been best to slaughter him there. You are the strongest Supe woman, right? Am I mistaken?” You gave Butcher a stare as he inquired, taking a hostile posture.

“Why in the world would she murder that dumb puppet? For your own benefit or in order to get greater public attention? Go fuck your face and fuck, no.” Ben got frustrated in less than a second and added, “Don't get her involved in your stupid stuff.”

“Calm down; I'm not interested in anything more than learning about her abilities. I find myself wondering all the time if she is stronger than Queen Maeve.”

Butcher was undoubtedly skilled at inciting outrage quickly.

You arched an eyebrow and confidently leaned back in your chair, asking, “Are you still on Temp-V?” You always welcomed challenges with open arms.

Butcher smiled at you and said, “I think I have one or two more hours left, babygirl. Do you feel like fighting or something?”

Ben cut him off, saying, “Will you stop fucking calling her names?” Butcher gave him no reaction. When he did his best to enrage Ben, you couldn't tell if he was being too bold or too foolish.

You crossed your arms over your chest and said, “I'm waiting; do your best shot.”

Ben gave you a serious glance and said, “Hey,” but you just nodded to let him know that you were perfectly fine.

“As you wish.”

As you waited patiently, Butcher lasered your left cheek without warning. You gasped, having never seen such power among the supes before.

You said, “Ow.” Finally, it didn't hurt, showing your power, but you gasped in surprise because you hadn't expected such a thing from him. It felt as gentle as a tickle.

“You okay?” Ben asked, gently brushing your chin with his thumb before you could even react.

“Definitely,” you answered. You undoubtedly felt more at ease knowing that Butcher's abilities had no effect on you.

Butcher said, “Guess you're still worthy,” and got to his feet. “Anyhow. I'll be out of the house for a few hours. Will you two please behave and not ruin the house again?”

You noticed Butcher's red and exhausted eyes and somewhat sluggish heartbeat as he put on his jacket, and you asked, “Are you okay, by the way?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked jokingly, taken aback by the question you asked.

“You appear somewhat ill. Additionally, your heartbeats are abnormal. I think you should see a doctor soon,” you said, but all he did was smirk, put on his jacket, and light a cigarette.

He continued, “For your information, darling,” after glancing at Ben's bitter expression. “I'm not into supe women; they are too tough to handle, okay, so we can't work out. Stop worrying about me,” he said, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at him and didn't make any further comments.

Make sure you use your GPS, Bluetooth, and Internet to find Mindstorm while you're away." Ben stated in a commanding voice, "I've got things to talk to him," obviously giving Butcher instructions as he wore a haughty expression. He was not open to any arguments.

Butcher grumbled, “He's not easy to find,” but Ben didn't seem to give a damn. “Hughie and Starlight are already putting in maximum effort. We have other things to take care of, and we know they're just as vital as cleaning up the mess you made.”

“We made a deal. A deal you wanted it,” Ben remarked angrily. The way Butcher was acting irritated him.

“Yeah, let me remind you, mate; you couldn't kill Homelander yesterday, right?”

“You fought Homelander?” you asked Ben as your eyes widened in shock.

Ben said that. “Well, yeah.” He was a little uncomfortable not telling you sooner. But yesterday, when you were having a small talk, he showed no interest in Homelander at all. “Your baby boy couldn't find the Twins and brought them to me, okay? He fucking ruined the mission. That's not to say I couldn't murder Homelander. Therefore, quit fucking blaming me for your own failures.”

"What is done is done," Butcher simply said. “I don't think he'll show up anytime soon, but we have to find him and kill him as quickly as possible. By now, the little bitch must be scared to death. He has no idea what's going to happen next. I'll locate Mindstorm in the meantime, alright?”

Ben finally gave him a nod and you watched him Butcher to leave.

“Why didn't you tell me you fought Homelander?”

Ben responded, “I don't know,” as his fingertips slid across your chair. “It didn't seem more important than blowing up Herogasm and you fighting Noir.”

You muttered, “It is, of course, important. He must be indeed powerful judging by you and Butcher combined couldn't finish him, huh?”

Ben chuckled a little, but it was obvious he wasn't laughing because his confidence had been shaky over the last few weeks. He was ready to deny it and give you a proper explanation when he gave you a sly look. Instead, he said, “Baby, it's even difficult to cum twice in a raw. After blowing up the whole place, I ran out of energy in a matter of minutes.”

You laughed at his defense. “Well, I think it seems those trainings will be beneficial to you too, then.”

Ben said, “If you are ready, I am always ready,” and then he got to his feet and stretched his muscles.

As soon as he took off his t-shirt, you couldn't help but stare at his muscular, broad physique. You knew he was doing it intentionally, but instructing him to put on his t-shirt would just make him egotistical and cocky. You were aware of it, and he knew you knew.

“Are you absolutely sure your bleeding will not be an issue?” Ben questioned you, gazing at you and focusing on the space between your legs and shorts.

You answered, “No, Ben,” as you slightly adjusted your shorts and extended your muscles.

Ben noticed that you were shifting your hips to the sides, and he licked his lip. He then arched an eyebrow and said, “Well, baby. Can we prevent demolishing the walls once more?”

“I wasn't planning to send you against the wall,” you said in a innocent manner.

You raised your hand abruptly and moved to punch him, but he blocked your strike and remarked, “You almost got me there, baby.”

He caught your fist in his large palms as you attempted to hit him again, and you lifted your other hand to strike him. But he held both of your fists tightly in his palms, forcing you to exert a little more effort.

You lifted your knee to go between Ben's legs as he opened his mouth to speak, but he immediately stopped you again by the legs.

He winked at you and said, “Not there, sweetheart,” as he rearranged your posture and moved you so that your back was to his chest while he continued speaking into your ear. Even though he wasn't pushing himself, you could feel him getting harder on your back as he continued to place his hands with yours on your stomach.

As of right now, it appears to be somewhat difficult to beat him in battle. But, as usual, you had different plans.

You took a few long breaths, laid back into his chest, and relaxed a little. It was clear from his gasp that he hadn't anticipated that movement of yours. Breathing deeply, you sensed Ben's touches around your fists becoming softer.

Once you had waited enough, you eventually managed to break free from his tight hold by turning around and hitting him to the floor very harshly, which managed to crack it enough.

Ben said, “Oh, fuck,” as he observed you circling him while grinning proudly.

“It was quite simple,” you grinned. “Maybe you're the one who needs some training, Benjamin.”

He dragged you down before you could even finish making fun of him, causing your face to come into contact with his sweating chest. Your hands paused on his chest as he grabbed you firmly around the waist.

“We need to practice your defense techniques for sure, sweetheart. You're becoming more proficient at attacking, though; I am sure of that.” Ben smiled slightly and murmured, “We're even now.”

“Not yet.”

You waited on top of him, feeling his hardness between your legs, and for some reason, you moved slightly. Perhaps you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing against his hardness below you because you didn't touch yourself enough or because of the hormones brought on by your period. It felt as though your body was screaming for you to give yourself in already.

You felt a slight pressure on your pussy through your panties, and your lips parted. There were obstacles between you, yet you could still feel his hardness.

But you weren't sure because you were still bleeding, so you glanced back at Ben to see whether he was showing signs of disgust or anything else. Due to your supe genetic background, you rarely got your period in the past, and it never caused you any problems since you never got your period while you were with Ben. However, Ben had only yearning in his eyes when you looked at him.

Ben held you in place as if you would reconsider, his hands tightening on your waist. Even though it was difficult, he waited patiently because he didn't want you to make you move on and destroy the fragile trust you had in him.

Your hands moved to his packs on his muscular chest and remained there. Ben's fingers also moved to linger on your bare legs, slid from your legs into your shorts, and softly touched your underwear, causing you to gasp.

When you began to rub against his erection and his fingers tightened around your flesh beneath your shorts, you couldn't help gasping a little.

The pressure of his enormous cock was enough to give you shivers, even though it was difficult to feel him completely because of your underwear, peds, shorts, and also his sweatpants. There was too much between you. You continued to grind against his cock in order to get pleasure, nailing his belly each time, your movements becoming more rapid and powerful.

As you were grinding against Ben's cock to trigger an orgasm and nailing his abdomen, he was struggling to contain himself and not cum inside his sweatpants under you. The fact that you were on your period and bleeding while moving your body over him made the situation even hotter. His body was screaming at him to switch positions, take his aching cock from his boxers, and slide it inside your bloody pussy immediately, but he maintained his composure and allowed you to enjoy yourself on him as you pleased.

Ben groaned, “Come on, baby,” noticing that you were struggling. “You are almost there.”

You said in a whispering voice, “Ben,” not quite sure why you were beging him.

Ben's hand grasped your hips and urged you to keep moving on him as soon as he noticed your pleading eyes and realized you were slowing down because there was not enough friction.

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he pressed your body on his hard cock and made you move on top of him, taking control, and your hands trailed wildly over every inch of his chest.

Ben groaned loudly, feeling your back arching finally. “Let it go, baby,” he said. “Yes, fuck! Cum to me.”

Your walls began to clench around nothingness as you let out a low gasp as your orgasm hit hard. Your head leaned back, and you nailed his abdomen as your body shivered on top of him. You were unable to control your moans while your walls kept clenching as you rode your orgasm.

Ben couldn't help but smile as he watched you pant harshly on him and listen to your soft moans. He knew it was something more intimate than anything you had ever experienced together because he felt so close to you in that moment, with your hearts beating wildly behind your chests.

His hands lingered around your back, softening on your waist.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

When you rode your orgasm completely, you came to your senses, and your eyes met Ben's green ones. He was breathing heavily under you, though he didn't cum. In addition to strong desire, there was something deeper there that was difficult to describe in the way he looked at you. You didn't know how much time you spent staring at each other.

Next Chapter

A/N: We are almost there now. Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  I’m very curious about what you think about this chapter in general, hehe

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeeeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @purplerosequartz @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28 @mystic-mara @tranquilty @winchesterwild78 @jennifer0305 @ultraviolencexs @thecutestaaakawaii @justtnat

@babythe67chevy @multifandomdiva @hey-there0-0 @shadowghoul2525 @darkqueen1995 @jenn-777q @certifiedhaters

* I made a Playlist for 'Losing You'. There are the songs I got inspiration from while writing this series. You can click here to see it. <3

[steddieas-shegoes]

disposable hero

for @steddiesongfics using the song disposable heroes by metallica released (appropriately and specifically for eddie munson to come back) in 1986

rated m | 1919 words | cw: implied sexual content, temporary character death, implied violence, blood, mind/body control | tags: kas!eddie, the good guys win, getting together, reunions, first kiss, hurt/comfort

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

Eddie woke to nothing.

Well, there was something. There were things.

But nothing that led him to believe he was safe, or even alive.

He was cold. He was pretty sure if he was dead he wouldn’t feel cold. Or maybe he would. Maybe this was his own version of hell: darkness and a cold that lingers in your bones, seeking sunlight it will never find.

Time doesn’t seem to pass, but he knows it is. The solitude only adds to the lingering emptiness in his chest.

He yearns for warmth, yearns for a friendly face, someone to talk to. He isn’t sure where he is. His last memory was Dustin crying, and he thinks he can vaguely remember someone else yelling his name and apologizing, but he can’t be too sure of anything in this place.

There isn’t much to do except wander, hope for someone or something to appear to make some sense of where he is.

He’s alone.

He’s scared, but trying not to be.

He’s pretty sure he’s been abandoned, but is trying so hard not to let that bother him. The weight in his chest at the thought of everyone moving on isn’t quite as heavy as the weight at the thought of him being dead.

Eventually, the knowledge that he was being watched was all he could focus on. He couldn’t figure out who it was, where they were, or what they were hoping to see.

He kept wandering, hoping for any sign, communication, a way to get back home.

A voice in his head told him to prepare, but he didn’t know what for. The voice told him to be ready for blood, to be ready to taste.

The voice told him he’d be on the frontlines, but frontlines for what?

He wasn’t reliable under pressure, as evidence clearly showed. He didn’t feel like he was capable of what this voice wanted.

But he felt the compulsion to listen, to do what the voice asked. Something in the back of his mind pulled until he lost the ability to reason against the voice.

His time blurred even more, the darkness became a background thought as the voice spoke to him, spouting words that would sink deeply into his hindbrain.

********

Eddie heard voices, something different from the voice telling him to prepare. He could recognize them vaguely.

One voice in particular, though this time it wasn’t crying and begging him to be okay.

Henderson.

The voice in his head pulled him away, made him ignore the freedom in that tone.

He didn’t feel anything for a while. He didn’t see anything. He wasn’t anything.

And then he heard it.

His name.

He saw Steve standing in the corner of a completely destroyed house. The room was unrecognizable but it vaguely resembled a bedroom.

“Eddie. Please. This isn’t you.”

What did that even mean? Of course it was him. He was Eddie.

He looked down at his hands, bloody and shaking, claws covered in unrecognizable debris. His clothes were torn, his body was sore, bruised in places he didn’t realize he could.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie did. He could listen to this voice. He could let this voice drown out the other one, the one trying so hard to control and push and shove him into a battle he didn’t want to be a part of.

“You’re okay. You didn’t hurt any of the kids,” Steve was holding his hands up as he came closer, slowly. “You won’t hurt me, right?”

Eddie grunted.

“You’ll be okay. I promise. El is helping and we’ll get you home. You wanna go home, right?”

Did he? Up until now, he didn’t know going home was an option. He didn’t even know there was a home to go back to.

What was home? What did he remember?

Steve’s hands covered his, and Eddie tried to pull away.

“Blood.” Eddie’s voice was barely more than a whisper. He wasn’t even sure if Steve heard.

“I don’t care,” Steve reached for his hands again. “It’s been a year of wishing I could fix what happened. A year of wanting to know what your hands feel like when you’re not dying in my arms.”

Eddie felt a strange whimpering noise bubble out of his throat as he took in the state of Steve.

He couldn’t remember everything, but he knew this wasn’t the Steve that he went into the Upside Down with. This was a shell of the Steve he knew. Dark circles under his eyes made him look pale and withdrawn, and his hair had been cut shorter. He seemed thin, missing some of the muscle in his arms and legs.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’m gonna keep you safe. You’re gonna stay here with me until I get a signal that El is done with what she needed to do.”

“Safe. Steve safe?”

The beaming smile on Steve’s face seemed out of place, but Eddie couldn’t help giving what he hoped was a decent smile back. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to smile.

“I’m safe. We’re gonna keep each other safe now.”

The voice in his head was white noise compared to the soothing words coming from Steve.

Minutes passed, and Eddie found it easy to be present with Steve, taking mental note of every movement.

Steve had pulled off his jacket and used it to wipe off as much of the mess coating their skin as he could, only pausing for a moment at the sharp claws replacing normal fingernails on Eddie’s hand.

A flash outside the window followed by a silence made Eddie look at Steve with a silent question in his eyes.

“Alright, we gotta go.”

Steve pulled Eddie along, out of the house that didn’t fit in Eddie’s memories, down the road and towards a set of bikes laying on the ground.

“Kids should be here any second-“

He was interrupted by yelling.

“Eddie!” Dustin and Mike were the first ones to them, but Steve held his hand up to stop them.

His other hand stayed locked with Eddie’s.

“Don’t overwhelm him. One at a time. Slow.”

The kids listened, and something in Eddie’s brain was shocked at that. Were they bad kids?

Dustin hugged him, but Eddie could tell he was holding back. He wrapped his one available arm around him and awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Henderson.”

Dustin looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. “Yeah, man. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Wheeler.” Eddie looked up at Mike, who was very obviously struggling to maintain composure. “Taller.”

Everyone laughed and Steve squeezed his hand. Mike leaned in for a hug, but was interrupted by yelling.

“Eddie!” Lucas barreled over, ignoring Steve’s too-late warning to take it easy.

That’s okay, though. Eddie was pretty strong now.

He held all three of them against him, not letting go of Steve’s hand the entire time.

Warmth flooded back in, pushing the cold back to where it belonged instead of inside him.

********

“What is he?” Eddie overheard Dustin ask Steve outside the bathroom.

“Not sure. Alive, though. That’s the most important thing.”

Eddie had been ordered to shower, but he’d been quick, and they hadn’t shown him how to turn the water off. There were at least six different knobs or dials that didn’t make sense. He was just standing there with a towel over his shoulders, naked, listening to their conversation.

“Do you think he’s still dangerous?”

“I don’t think he was ever a danger to us. He would’ve hurt us-”

“He hurt you.”

Eddie let out a whimper before slamming open the door.

“Oh, God, dude! Clothes!” Dustin yelled before turning and walking away.

Steve pushed him all the way into the bathroom and closed the door, pointedly not looking below his chest.

“Let’s get the towel on you,” Steve suggested, tugging it off his shoulder and trying to wrap it around his waist without looking.

Eddie could care less about the towel. He knocked Steve’s hands away and tried to look over every inch of visible skin.

“Hurt?”

“Only a little. I’m okay. You stopped,” Steve tried again to get the towel around Eddie for his modesty, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“Fix it.”

Steve felt his eyes water. “It’s just some scratches. They’ll heal quick.”

“Fix.”

Steve pulled his shirt up and Eddie saw the “scratches.” They were more like gashes, one even maybe needed stitches.

“Always a hero.”

Steve snorted, pulling his shirt back down. “Pan meet pot.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. Steve waved it off.

“Anyway, I can clean it up as soon as you’re done. You look done. Are you done?”

Eddie wasn’t letting Steve brush him off. The more aware he became, the more he remembered, and he knew Steve was the type to brush off even the worst injuries.

“Fix. Now.”

He pushed Steve against the counter as gently as possible, pulled his shirt off over his head, and dropped to his knees to look at the bloody lines along already-healed scars.

“Eddie-” Steve sounded breathless.

Eddie looked up at him, hands gently covering his hips. “I did it?”

Steve’s breath left him in a rush as he pulled Eddie’s hands away and fell to his knees in front of him.

“Vecna did it. He used you to hurt all of us, but you only got me a little before you realized.” Steve was warm, always so warm. Eddie had a hard time focusing on his words when the heat from his skin was calling out to him louder. “You stopped on your own. I’m okay.”

“Warm. Mine.”

If Steve wasn’t warm before, he certainly was now.

“Eds, you’re, um. You should get dressed.”

“No. Warm.” Eddie pulled Steve into his chest and held him there, letting the warmth take over completely.

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” he breathed out, voice shaking. Eddie could feel his breathing where their chests were touching, uneven and borderline panicking. “Missed you so much.”

“Here now.”

“Yeah,” Steve let out a small laugh. “You are. Can’t believe it.”

“Yours?” Eddie felt exhaustion seeping in where the cold had been present before. He wasn’t sure if he was even coherent enough for Steve to understand.

Steve’s lips brushed against his bare shoulder before he pulled back. “Yours like…a boyfriend?”

Eddie wracked his brain trying to figure out what exactly a boyfriend was. He never had one, he didn’t think.

But he remembered thinking as he was dying the first time that Steve would be a good boyfriend. He remembered feeling like he could be a good boyfriend for Steve.

“Hold hands?”

Steve giggled. “Yeah, we could do that. Like earlier?”

“Kiss.”

Steve’s smile faltered. “Yeah. Could do that if you want.”

Eddie felt his own smile growing, watching as Steve blushed.

“Kiss?” He asked this time, wanting Steve to be able to say no. He didn’t want Steve to feel like he had no choice, not when Eddie knew firsthand what it was like to have your choices taken from you.

Steve nodded, leaning in to gently press his lips to Eddie’s.

“I should shower,” Steve said against his mouth.

“Me too.”

“You already did,” Steve snorted.

“Again.”

“Even when you don’t have words, you’re a menace,” Steve shook his head fondly before pecking his lips again. “Fine, but the kids are all downstairs and they will check on us soon if we don’t come down.”

“Later?”

Steve nodded. “Later,” he promised.

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay, Matrix plagiarism case postscript

One thing I didn't answer is how she got the Wachowski's timeline wrong. I still don't know, but it appears she essentially shifted their lives back a decade

She says less than a decade ago they were running a construction business, but actually, working at a construction company is what they were doing in 1986. In 1976 Lana and Lilly were eleven and nine years old respectively. I can't explain why she messed this up, beyond having to age them up a decade for the story to work

But this screencap also brings up another thing she mentions repeatedly that I didn't mention - the smoking gun in her claim is that...the Matrix ripped off her words verbatim for its opening crawl. The opening crawl...to The Matrix.

Huh?

So her story is - and unsurprisingly the timeline here is jumbled, for instance, citing production interviews from 1997 when the film wouldn't enter production until 1998 - the original version of The Matrix contained a Star Wars-style opening crawl, and this was the most directly plagiarized part of the film.

She claims this opening crawl was, in fact, in the theatrical release of The Matrix and only removed when it came to home media, because she. Because she called the FBI on the Wachowskis for stealing the idea of opening crawls from her

The theatrical cut does differ from later versions slightly - most infamously the Wachowskis made the green color filter much more green in the second DVD release, to make it consistent with the style of the sequels - but if there was a opening crawl mandated by the studio, nobody but her has mentioned it, and I find it hard to believe critics wouldn't mention it.

Because this is Dark City. She's clearly confused The Matrix with stories about the studio's meddling with the 1998 film Dark City.

Dark City was the dystopian sci-fi film that had a opening narration explaining the whole plot foisted on it by the studio, and critics mentioned it. Basically every review mentioned it (some even suggest covering your ears or muting the film the first time you see it, at least until the Director's Cut removed it). Meanwhile, reviews of The Matrix praised its opening from the very beginning: how it drops you right into things and lets you find out about its world as Neo does. It's just not possible that the theatrical release has a opening crawl no one mentioned when I can pull up full comparisons of theatrical vs first DVD vs second DVD vs Bluray. Whatever story she read either was about Dark City, or was a Wachowski saying in passing "yeah the studio wanted us to add one but we didn't".

Another thing I didn't touch on is just how much it hypes her up as a untouchable genius of cinema. For instance, she claims to have come up with the effects of The Matrix in 1983 too

(one funny part is how little she brings up The Terminator at all? She just threw it in as a bonus I guess)

I looked up how they did the bullet time effect in particular and...it would have been impossible in 1983. It's not just high speed photography; it's entire banks of cameras, placed in the right place by computer previsualization, their sequence programmed, and with all the elements composited together by CGI. Even stylistically - the true creator of the effects cited Akira as a influence, and Akira the movie didn't exist in 1983. Neither did the type of Hong Kong action film that heavily influenced it. I guess it would be possible to write down "someone goes really fast and we depict it like they slowed down time", concepts of a plan etc

But like.

She's destined to be one of the most profound master writers of the 21st century. This is a book proving she's never written anything. It has a pitch for The Third Eye, it has a second film treatment tacked on at the end, and it has copyright registrations for her sequels to Terminator and The Matrix. M. Night Shyamalan's character in Lady in the Water was destined to be a great writer too, but he actually wrote a book. He didn't put out a book with a decades-old synposis that was never finished & reams of legal documents and a bio saying, I'm one of the greatest authors of all time. Because who needs writing when you have destiny, God, and the ancient superrace living in the Pyramids on your side?

This is my for real last post on this since I ended up just depressed about it in the end. I think the worst part is, she knows she lost. But she still goes to the press telling a story she knows isn't true, and people believe her. Some of it is transphobic - "stop saying it's a trans allegory when they stole it"; some of it runs with the Christian oppression narrative (full disclosure, I was inspired to look for her book again bc while looking up another crank, I saw an interview with her in the sidebar of a religious website); but a lot of it is just people who innocently want it to be true.

One of the few pieces debunking her story is on a website called Black Excellence - it doesn't even have a byline - said this:

"There are many people, especially Black people, who wanted the story to be true. It symbolized a Black person, especially a Black woman, finally winning against the system. When Sophia Stewart spoke about how mainstream media would not give her the time of day because almost all of them were owned by Warner Brothers, some Black media embraced her. Blogs spread her story, especially the initial story on Globe that contained errors about the case.

"But the story is not true. Sophia Stewart did not become the richest Black person in the country. But that did not deter her from going on several shows and publications to tell her story."

She took advantage of people's urge to root for the underdog against a corporation - and seized on a lack of mainstream coverage to claim her story was being suppressed. But it just isn't true. Also yeah she ridiculously claims that Warner Bros owns every news website and newspaper and that's kind of funny I guess. Well, that's it. I'm never doing this again

[twizzytalks]

GUYS. I just read a freaking amazing batman issue, that I think everyone would enjoy, so I'm gonna try to spread the word.

It's from Batman issue #150, the main story called "Be Better". It's written by Chip Zdarsky, with pencilling by Denys Cowan and Jorge Jiménez, and was released on July 3rd, 2024.

This story is a great character piece, exploring Gotham City from the street-level perspective of somebody who actually lives there. And specifically, it's the life of a low-level thug-for-hire that actively contributes to the suck and corruption of the city.

If you're someone who doesn't know a lot of Batman lore, you know that thing that happens, how if you think about the Batman world for longer than like 5 seconds, you get a lot of practical questions about how everything works? "Okay, but like, why do people even work for these villains? Or, what's the thug employment scene like? Or, how does literally nobody know Batman's identity??" Well, all of these questions and more are explored and/or answered.

This story is a great way to expose people to Batman comics without overwhelming them. I read a lot of Batman comics, and to be honest, a lot of storylines I don't even care about, because they're just like.. action movie fight scenes. And idk about others, but to me, that stuff gets really boring really quickly, and sometimes I straight up just skip over pages of fight scenes if there's no interesting dialogue going on. The Batman stories I REALLY care about, are the ones like this, that explore the mindset, experiences, and perspectives of the characters.

It has *practically* zero required reading, or previous knowledge required. I know, literally the first page has an editor's note referencing events from a recent storyline called the Gotham War, but ignore it. Literally just ignore it, I promise you, it doesn't matter at all going forward. It also references recent stuff going on with the Penguin, but you don't really need to know that either. Stay strong, shrug your shoulders, ignore it, and just keep reading, I know you can do it.

The story will introduce you to some characters that you're not gonna recognize, and you may feel like you're supposed to know their deal, but you're not. Half of the guys introduced are new throwaway characters created just for this one comic, and you don't really need to know anything about anyone that pops up, beyond the most basic core Batman lore that everyone knows.

A big challenge for people curious about Batman comics is that it's really difficult to find an easy, accessible, current, modern, interesting entry point. And I really think this is one of them.

If you ask a Batman fan where to start reading, nine times out of ten they're gonna tell you to start with Batman #404, which is the first chapter of the Batman: Year One storyline, which is undeniably phenomenal, but it was published back in 1986, and lots of people don't want to start with a story from nearly 40 years ago. Also, it's a take on the Batman origin story. Everybody knows how Batman started. Maybe they don't want to start with an origin story, maybe they want a story set in the present, that is perfectly standalone.

So yeah, pleaseeeee everyone check this out! Not just new readers either! 10/10, amazing story.

(Also, I'm only talking about the main story, not the backup story that starts in the last quarter of the issue that's called "Brick by Brick", that one is very caught up in current lore, and is Very Scary, stay away from that one.)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Diamonds on the Soles of His Shoes

May Prompt: Song Released in 1986 | Word Count: 2000 | Rating: T | Characters: Eddie, Steve, Robin | CW: Language | Tags: Post S2, Pre S3, Eddie POV, Pre-Steddie, Pre-Platonic Stobin, Eddie & Robin From Band, Graduation Party

For a song released in 1986, I picked Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes by Paul Simon.

Partially hidden behind the trees, Eddie looks at the house, large and looming. Sure, he's been by it before, did a bit of trick-or-treating here in the rich neighborhood, but he's never actually been inside Steve Harrington's house. Never stepped foot over the threshold, beyond those red double doors.

Said doors are standing wide open tonight, inviting the whole world inside. 

Steve Harrington's graduation bash. Everyone's invited. That's been the mantra all week. 

Everyone. 

Eddie's not so sure that everyone really includes him, and he didn't even graduate, anyway. Not even on his second try, and he's dreading the idea of spending a third senior year at Hawkins High. He'd be able to run Hellfire Club for one more year, but that's about it. The silver lining, small and weak, compared to the dark storm cloud that is the prospect of another year in that hell hole. 

He sees a girl from band, Robin Buckley, also lurking and lingering at the edge of the driveway. 

"You goin' in?" Eddie asks, sidling up to her, making her jump.

"Uh, maybe?" she says, but doesn't sound sure about it. 

"You know Steve Harrington?" Eddie asks.

"Only the back of his stupid head," Robin answers, snarkily. 

Eddie laughs, agreeing, "Yeah, same."

But she doesn't move, and he doesn't either, "Why are you here, Robin from Band?" he asks, like that's her legal name.

She doesn't seem to care, just saying, "Reasons," and it's just cryptic enough that he's curious.

"Do you have a crush on Steve Harrington? Gonna make a move before it's too late and he's off at Harvard or Purdue or wherever daddy's money bought him a spot?"

"More like Roane County Technical College," Robin mumbles under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she says, then turns and looks at Eddie, "just. I saw him applying to Scoops Ahoy, you know, the ice cream shop in the new mall? I don't think he's going to college."

"Maybe it's just a summer job," Eddie says, but that doesn't sound convincing even to his own ears. Why would Steve Harrington need a summer job selling ice cream?

"I don't think so," Robin says, and she's holding back. He can tell.

"Spill it, Buckley."

She cuts a look back at the house, then back at him, "Like, okay. You cannot tell anyone I know this, because, like, I took an oath–"

"You took an oath?" he asks.

"Okay, I didn't take an oath. But there was a lecture. A big lecture, about not repeating anything about what I saw cross the guidance counselor's desk, you know? I was her aide, fifth period."

"Okay, well, what did you see?" Eddie asks, because now he's curious. Very, very curious.

"Steve Harrington didn't get in anywhere. Nowhere at all. And now he's trying to sling ice cream all summer. With me."

"No way," Eddie breathes out, loving that he has this dirt on the little rich boy. Harrington's crown has been repeatedly tarnished this year, and Eddie's enjoyed watching the fallout from afar. 

"You didn't answer my first question: Do you have a crush on Steve Harrington?"

"No," Robin says, and Eddie follows her line of sight. Oh, ew. 

She's looking at the instigator of at least ninety-seven percent of the fallout King Steve's suffered, as he's holding court at the front door, like this is his party instead of Steve's. Billy Hargrove, surrounded by girls. Some freshly graduated, like the perpetually tone-deaf Tammy Thompson.

Eddie rolls his eyes. If he had to choose between the lesser of two evils, he'd take Harrington. 

"Hargrove?" Eddie asks, not even trying to hide his disgust at her bad taste, "I don't even really know you, Buckley, but you can definitely do better."

Robin laughs, but it sounds kind of sad, "I'm not interested in Billy Hargrove, either."

Eddie doesn't get it, then. If she's not here for Steve, and she's not looking at Billy, she's looking at…oh. 

No way.

He should have realized, should have seen himself mirrored in her or some shit. But he says nothing. If he's right or wrong, he'll never know, because it's just not discussed. 

"Glad to hear it, Robin From Band," Eddie says, and offers her his arm. "Wanna go in with me, then?"

And he's surprised when she slides her arm through his elbow.

Robin finds some girls she knows from her own class, and Eddie slinks off towards the pool. He can smoke a cigarette and see if there are any customers out there, so he can make a little bit of money, selling off his shittiest weed.

No such luck, it's strangely empty. Pool drained, even if it's getting warm enough for swimming, especially if it's heated. 

Eddie walks over to the diving board, and tests it, making sure it's not too bouncy. He doesn't want to take a header into the empty concrete, that's for damn sure. It seems safe, so he shuffles out until he can sit on the edge.

Lights a cigarette, and swings his feet.

The party inside is loud, and jam-packed, and Eddie is sure coming here was a mistake. There's nothing for him here, not at Steve Harrington's house. He should have rounded up Jeff and Goodie and found something else to do tonight. He's sure Gareth would have hung out, if he could get his mom to extend his curfew.

"What are you doing out there?!" The question comes, so sharp and hard, that it startles Eddie so much he nearly topples into the waterless void.

He grips the edge of the diving board, but loses his lit cigarette into the pool. Into the pile of dry leaves from last fall. Shit.

"Um, trying to burn your house down?" Eddie teases, and when he looks back, Steve Harrington is standing there, annoyed.

"Get off of that," Steve says, arms crossed across his chest like he needs to protect himself. From Eddie? In what world?

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Eddie taunts, batting his eyes.

"Please get off that," Steve says, dry as dust. No humor to be found. Which is odd. Eddie went to school with Steve for a long time, he is funny, as loathe as Eddie is to admit it.

He crawls off it.

"Just let me get my cigaret-"

"Leave it."

"But-"

"Don't go down there, Munson, are you stupid?" Steve snaps, and Eddie takes a step back. He's not stupid, but he's pretty pissed off now.

Eddie narrows his eyes, "Yeah, I have to repeat my senior year for a third time, Harrington, we all know that already," Eddie snaps, but rapidly loses steam. Steve Harrington's face says he didn't know that, not until Eddie told him. 

Fucking idiot, opening his own goddamn big mouth.

"Uh, well, um…" Steve trails off, "I'm sorry? I didn't get into any colleges if that makes you feel better. I was probably one D-minus in Mrs. Click's class from joining you."

"Ms. O'Donnell is the one torturing me," Eddie answers, off-kilter that he's even having this conversation with Steve Harrington.

And Steve smiles, "Yeah, I hear you. I think she only passed me because of my last name."

Eddie is taken aback, Steve Harrington is aware he gets special treatment? Aware of the diamonds on the soles of his shoes, as well as the noses so far up his ass they'll never see sunshine again?

Well, hell. It isn't good ammo to know Steve Harrington can't get into college if Steve's willing to tell him that himself. Kinda takes all the fun out of it.

"Heard you might be the new King of Scoops Ahoy," Eddie teases, and it is teasing, now. Not taunting.

And that must read, because Steve smiles.

"I'll look great in a sailor suit. I hope we get tips, because I'll kill it," Steve says, hands on his hips. But he doesn't look aggressive, he looks amused. 

And Eddie did that. Hot damn.

"What's up with the pool?" Eddie asks, and wishes he hadn't, when the black cloud passes over Steve's face.

"You know, Barb," Steve says, so soft that Eddie almost doesn't hear him.

Eddie's only heard rumors and gossip. That she went missing. That she didn't, and was instead found killed by everything from monsters, to Steve himself. The former seems more plausible than the latter, and isn't that ridiculous? 

"Did she die in your pool?" Eddie asks. Maybe she drowned.

Steve just kind of shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe. Where you were sitting was the last place she was seen alive, though."

"You're shitting me?" Eddie asks, but he's pretty sure Steve's not kidding.

Steve shakes his head. 

"Sorry, I didn't know," Eddie says.

"I know you didn't," Steve says, "it just scared me, seeing you sitting out there. All alone. Sorry if I was a bit of a dick about it."

And hell has frozen over, Steve Harrington is apologizing to him. 

"Um, you weren't. It's okay. Sorry I just made myself at home."

And Steve laughs, "Well, that's fine," he says, waving his arms around, "look at everyone else."

"And why aren't you with everyone else?" Eddie asks.

"Like who? My only friend these days is thirteen-years-old."

"Say what now?" Eddie asks, because that sounds creepy. Is Harrington, like, a pervert now? He'd heard rumors last winter about Harrington hanging around Hargrove's little sister, but he hadn't given them much credence. He knows the rumors that go around about himself, and the vast majority of them have no basis in reality either.

"Long story," Steve says, "long, long, story. I'm, like, his babysitter? Him and a bunch of other street urchins, I guess?"

"You're a babysitter?" Eddie asks, disbelieving.

"It's as shocking to me as it is to you. I'm not bad at it, though," Steve says, and he smiles.

"You're not like…messing with underage girls?"

"Jesus Christ, no, what kind of freak do you take me for?" Steve says, and he sounds so disgusted that Eddie's sure that's the truth.

"Sorry, I had to ask."

"Unless you mean, like, Nance?" Steve asks, brow furrowed, like he's really thinking this through.

"I do not," Eddie says with a laugh, "I thought you were broken up, anyway?"

"We are," Steve says, "definitely. We are. What about you?"

"Am I broken up with Nancy Wheeler? Yep, have been for as long as I can remember, anyway," Eddie snarks, and Steve Harrington laughs. An ugly, open-mouthed bray.

It's dorky, but real.

And Eddie's heart does a thing that he definitely didn't give it permission to do in his chest. Flipping and flopping, all willy-nilly.

He's not supposed to like Steve Harrington. 

Harrington's a rich boy, who doesn't try to hide it. And Eddie's poor as a pocket, with nothing to lose. 

But right now, standing out here in the near dark, he does like him. God help him.

"Word of advice, from one freak to another, stop saying it like that, or people will think you're a perv. Lead with the babysitting part."

Steve nods.

"If none of these people are your friends, why have a party? Why spend money on assholes that don't deserve it?"

Steve shrugs, "Habit, I guess. Won't be like this much longer, though. My dad's pretty mad about college. He's cutting me off."

Eddie blinks. That's…unfathomable, really.

Steve keeps talking.

"So, I got a job at the ice cream place in the mall. To learn my lesson. Earn my keep, whatever. You should come by, I'll hook you up," Steve offers, and Eddie feels insane. That can't possibly be a thing that they'll ever do. 

Then, Steve tries to sweeten the pot, "Pretty sure I'll be wearing a funny hat."

"And working with Robin From Band," Eddie says, and Steve just shrugs, like he doesn't know who that is. 

Poor Harrington, Buckley'll eat him alive, given half the chance.

And maybe, just maybe, Eddie will swing by to see that happen, live and in person.

Free ice cream and a show. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

Notes: Oh, these kids. If they only knew how important they'd all be to each other just a short time later.

[alpaca-clouds]

The Thing About The Age of the Characters in Digimon

Okay, let me talk about one thing in the western Digimon Fandom, that has always bothered me. And it has to do with something very weird: The age of the characters in the first four seasons.

See, in a lot of western fandom discourse there is this idea that the main characters in Tamers are 1 year younger than the characters in Adventure, 02, and Frontier. This mostly originates with one thing: The Japanese dub of the other three seasons do not give any age for the characters, as they introduce themselves saying just their grade in primary school. Tamers meanwhile gives official ages for the characters (with pretty much everyone but Shaochung and Ryou being 10). While the western versions of the other seasons gave an age for the main characters, making the Goggle Boys 11 years in their respective seasons.

However... This does not make them a year older.

See, most of the main characters in the first four seasons of Digimon are 5th graders. This maintains to Taichi, Sora and Yamato in Adventure, to Daisuke, Hikari, Takeru and Ken in 02, the entire main cast in Tamers, and Takuya, Izumi, Kouichi and Kouji in Frontier.

What does this mean for age? Well, basically it means that these characters should have been 10 by the 1st of April of the year that they entered 5th grade. To be exact, it means the birthdays should be like this:

Taichi, Yamato, Sora: Between April 1st 1988, and March 31st 1989 (through Sora's birthday being recent in movie 2, which takes place during spring vacation, we can assume her birthday is in March 1989)

Koushirou, Mimi: Between April 1st 1989, and March 31st 1990

Jyou: Between April 1st 1987 and March 31st 1988

Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke, Ken: Between April 1st 1991 and March 31st 1992

Iori: Between April 1st 1993 and March 31st 1994

Miyako: May 21st to about June 21st 1990 (we know her star sign is Gemini)

Takato, Jianliang, Ruki, Hirokazu, Kenta, Iori: Between April 1st 1990 and March 31st 1991 (this should also be true for Junpei in Frontier)

Shaochung: Between April 1st 1993 and March 31st 1994

Ryou (Tamers Version): Between April 1st 1986 and March 31st 1987

Takuya, Izumi, Kouichi, Kouji: Between April 1st 1991 and March 31st 1992

Tomoki: Between April 1st 1994 and March 31st 1995

And yes, if you have autistic knowledge of this franchise, you will know that there is in some cases stuff that does not make sense.

Notably the fact that within the old Artbook with the character reference pictures 02 Sora is referenced to be 14 years old. However, that book has been released years later, and the information came from Seki Hiromi, so I am fairly certain this is just her not quite realizing that Sora's birthday is somewhat confirmed to be in March through movie 2. (The same is also true for Ruki, who also has her birthday in movie 6, which also takes place during the spring vacation. However, other than with movie 2, which is confirmed as canon for the series through 02, the canonicity of movie 6 is a lot more doubtful, as there are several ways in which it contradicts the canon of the show.)

The other thing is one very specific for Tamers.

See, Tamers is unique in giving the ages of the characters. And in fact with every screenplay of the series (which have been digitally distributed and are most available and actually super interesting for some background information) in the list of characters showing up in that episode most ages are given. This is why we know the ages of the parents in Tamers. However: Tamers takes place over the time between April 2001 and late February or early March 2002, so over the course of a roughly year. And even in the last episodes the ages for all characters are still the same as by episode 1. However, I assume this is just simply an oversight, that nobody has thought about. At least this is a lot more likely than none of the main characters (including the adults) having had their birthday before March. lol

So yeah. Generally speaking: All four goggle boys are 10 or 11 in their respective season. 5th graders at the very least.

[rikomoriyama01]

Hey! As We know, Our Ravens have a lot of memorabilia. I figured that after the team's disbandment (💔) in 2007, it would be good to keep track of it all for archival purposes. Hold onto those items, they will for sure go up in price as time passes! (Or give them to me!). Let's start with Anniversary badges! There are three! Starting from when the team was founded in 1977, they were released every 10 years. 10th anniversary

My favourite one !!! 20th anniversary

30th anniversary

Yeah this one ..... looks unfortunate We missed the 4th anniversary in 2007 🥺 Okay now team logo badges! The logo went through a lo of changes over the years. 1977-1980 Our original Raven was designed by Tetsuji Moriyama himself!!!! That's something!!!! Right?

1981-1983 The next design is much more safe, it's cute how he holds the ball in his beak! 😳 ... yeah this was unfortunate choice as well. That's why it lasted barely 2 years.

1984-1985 Guys, Ravens were not a cult, I swear!

It's one of the more unusual logos. I wish they had kept it longer!

1986-1988 From three headed raven to three legged one! Meet Yatagarasu, a mythical crow from Shinto mythology! (Again, they are all so cool!!!).

1988-2007 Back to the basics! Personally I prefer the symmetrical logos more, but people seemed to be fine enough with this one, and so it stayed with us for better and worse.

Now last but not least, some miscellaneous badges! There are some very fun ones!

First of all, Evermore badge! It's badge given to all graduating Ravens, who aren't Ravens anymore (Which is all of Ravens ever existing, since the team is no more F)

This badge started fun tradition of ex players getting a raven skull tattooed on their left arm! I wonder if Jean got his?

Nevermore badge is twin of their previous one. This one was given to all Ravens who were on the lineup in 2007, when the team was disbanded. Nest ❤️ is cute little badge that was keeping our Ravens company during away games! Home sickness can get to anyone!

Evermore Stadium badge! It's cool (Have we finally agreed if it's a castle or not?)

Raven King memorabilia badge was made and distributed for all Ravens who played or trained with Riko. Anyone want to part with theirs? They refused to give me mine 😟.

Special thanks to @noomyart and @deadliestpieceontheboard for help with dates and spelling ! Look forward to more in future <3

[acowardinmordor]

The bedtime angst idea that showed up on my way home after yet another appallingly long day. Heads up, this one is dark. like. Major character death, unhappy ending, horror, maybe, and not in a fixable way. DD:DNE in the original meaning. I'm not kidding about those warnings.

Platonic Stobin, Robin&Eddie, Steddie

---

It didn't happen until November of 1986.

At first it was just the proximity of government quarantine for the five of them that went through the gate. Then the shared annoyance of recovering from bat bites. Then the joys of physical therapy. They got close. Closer, for those that were already close. Eddie got to know Nancy and Robin beyond vague concepts in the hallways. He got to meet Steve properly, and then really get to know him. And then, for some reason Eddie still couldn't fathom, he and Steve got to really know each other.

They hadn't said it yet, but Eddie loved his boyfriend, and he'd known from the moment he woke up in quarantine wrapped up in the same bandages as Steve, that Robin was part of the set. Loving Steve meant loving Robin. Not in some kind of weird 'accepting their failings' way. The two of them weren't kidding about being platonic soulmates. They shared a brain, shared jokes, could talk silently.

Of course Eddie loved Robin too. He may not have known her in all the ways he knew Steve, but just shy. A lot of jokes were made about how he bought a boyfriend and got a lesbian for free.

He knew them both. So well. Too well.

Back in the start of their quarantine, after they'd all gotten rabies vaccines, Robin's most pressing fear was that the Hive Mind was inside them, that Vecna could get into them, control them. Terrifying, yes, but the million tests by doctors convinced them all it was fine. Eddie knew it was impossible, trusted the doctors as much as he could. He was still a storyteller though. If Vecna or Henry, the Mind flayer of the hivemind itself wanted a host, then the guy who died and came back to life in that place was the victim.

It was a bleak thought, but there was a comfort to it. Better him than one of the others.

All through the summer after they were released from quarantine, g-men requested blood samples weekly. Dustin was the only one of the five who appreciated the scientific merits of it all. They couldn't get an explanation of what they were checking, but fine, okay. The government gave them each five million dollars; they could have some blood in exchange.

None of them were healthy, but no one was turning into a demo-whatever. Eddie made sure he paid attention and kept track. The headaches Steve got were debilitating, but those weren't new, just worse. Robin had an occasional tremor in her hand because of some nerve damage from the vines. Eddie had vicious scars. Dustin had a limp from what he'd done to his hip. Nancy had some hearing loss. They all had properly diagnosed PTSD.

For a few weeks, it seemed like Steve and Eddie were trading off nightmares. Back and forth, one or the other would get stuck in something horrifying that left them shaking and sick when they woke. Eddie could never quite remember what it was he saw. All that was left when he woke was the fear.

Then came November. The government doctors suddenly asked to take blood samples more often. Twice a week. They'd mentioned, casually, that they might ask for daily samples if tests showed something abnormal. That was more than enough to put the Party on high alert. It was enough to make Eddie sick to his stomach. He considered pulling back, but knew that was more dangerous for himself and the rest of the town.

Nancy was off at college, but always a phone call away. She demanded that all of the older kids keep weapons on them until they knew what was going on. She would be home in a few more days for Thanksgiving break, and they'd start to build a plan.

It happened two days before she arrived.

Eddie had heard the full story of the last few years from Dustin. It was never really over. It came back every year. Nancy was right to worry, and prepare for the next round. Eddie was right to trust his gut about something wrong lingering out of sight. It's just that he wasn't quite right either.

But this time, the Upside Down didn't start by picking at the edges. It didn't start softly, subtly. There was no wondering if they were imagining things.

One minute Eddie was on Steve's couch, waiting for Steve to come back with pizza from the oven, so Robin could restart the movie. The kids were around a fire on the patio, studying. If it weren't for the weapons sitting nearby all of them, or in holsters within reach - Nancy gave them each lessons, lists, and gifts after all - it would have looked like a boring midwest evening.

Steve came back and froze in front of them. Just a moment as his eyes rolled and his head dropped back, just long enough for both Eddie and Robin to notice. A sound, some tortured thing stretching to fill the gap between a chitter and a scream dragged out of Steve's body. Robin was already on her feet when Steve lurched towards Eddie. His eyes were still rolled back, but his face came forward, unseeing. His hands raised and cracked, like the bones were lengthening. His nails distorted.

Pinned against the wall before he knew it was happening, Eddie couldn't fight back, struck stupid and useless by it all. It was Steve and it wasn't. It was human and it wasn't. His jaw was open, a silent shriek that, at first glance, seemed to have too many teeth. Another glance and it was blunt human teeth. Another and his face seemed to split, craning forward above the hand that had Eddie by the throat. Teeth and pain, and breath that reeked of that place and trailed motes of fetid dust over Eddie's face.

He only noticed the sound of Robin's frantic yelling, that had started the moment Steve's body attacked, after the gunshot clapped.

After she killed Steve.

After the gun cut off her voice.

Eddie collapsed, unable, at first, to look away from Steve. Steve again, the monstrous thing he was a moment before gone, save for the way his blood leaked into a thick black pool. It wasn't real yet. It wouldn't be real for days and months.

Loving Steve meant loving Robin. Knowing Steve meant knowing Robin.

Nothing he felt, nothing he knew, got close to how they were about each other. Steve didn't have to speak for Robin to know he was upset. But they also talked for hours. Big topics and small. Bickering about burger toppings and the moral quandry of being proudly queer and firmly closeted.

Robin knew Steve better than anyone.

Everyone who knew him knew that Steve would never forgive himself if he truly hurt his friends. If he killed one of them, there would be nothing left.

Eddie loved Steve enough to let himself die.

Robin loved Steve enough to kill him.

Eddie looked away from the body as the patio door slammed open. He looked at Robin. Looked, and saw and knew her.

Knew what her only choice would be now.

Eddie knew Steve enough to know what to do.

Robin's hand still tremored sometimes, even months later. As she was turning the gun, Eddie reached her, stole the gun and her choice away, and clung as hard as he could, trying to keep her from shattering. He didn't try to stop her screaming.

Behind them, the kids were radioing Hopper, calling Nancy, cursing and yelling that this wasn't real, this wasn't Steve, that the black blood proved it, that they needed to find him, that they needed to same him.

Robin and Eddie didn't move beyond gasped breaths to continue their keening screams.

It was Steve that entered the room, and it was something else a moment later. They loved him, so they knew him. It was him, right until it wasn't. Not something else, not a replacement, not an exchange. Something that was no more. He was no more.

They loved him. Robin loved him. So she saved him from his worst fear.

Eddie couldn't have done it. Wouldn't have.

But he could do this, and hold Robin together, the way that Steve never would again.

--

I'm not coming back here, but you can do with this what you will.

[jaidens]

He Got That Boyish Look That I Like In A Man

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : nothing! | this really sucks 😭 I just wanted to release something cuz I've been lacking on yall

a/n [s] : requests are open! [ALSO! should I challenge things? like flufftober??]

Whenever your job offers you a raise to become an Automotive Director of Engineering for the dealership in Reseda, California you take it without warning. In an attempt to get away from slushy winters in the small state of Connecticut, you moved swiftly to a small apartment with lovely neighbors and a new life. You had been to California on some vacations with family, but living here had never crossed your mind.

You walk into your office that smells like fresh paint and cleaner, and set your books and purse down on the dark-oak table. The company had hired some individuals to work for you, which felt weird to say, as you used to be the same person. Your assistant walks in with a tap on your glass door, and she walks in. “Hey! I’m Shannon. Anything you need, I'll be across the hall. I've already started on the connections with Toyota and Nissan!”

You smile at her and shake her hand that she was holding out for you. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Y/N L/N, but I assume you already know that!” You laugh and let go of her hand to hide any awkwardness and anxiety you had about being in such a high position.

“Okay well, I'll see you! And, someone has already set up a meeting with you!” Shannon says before walking away and shutting the door behind her.

You rub sweaty hands against your clothes and turn on your heels. The air-conditioning rumbles on and you wrap the small cardigan you had brought around you and begin staring at the paperwork that was placed in front of you. You start the work: scribbling works and many, many signatures with red pens and black pens. A knock is gentle against your door and you look up, and see Shannon and a very recognizable man standing there in a Navy suit and a smile on his face.

“This is Mr. Daniel Larusso. He owns Larusso auto parts and he said he wants to speak with you,” Shannon says, pushing her glasses up her nose and walking away.

The name sends a shiver down your spine as you hear it, and the face is suddenly very recognizable. The fateful summer vacation of 1986, fifteen-years old and young, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You're sitting on the bench near the beach in a swimsuit and a big t-shirt, peeling through the boom. you had brought to your family vacation. Your family is on the beach setting up the tent and towels all across it to mark the place on the beach. The warm sun heats your skin up as you lay against the bench and continue flipping through your book that suddenly becomes boring.

A tan boy emerges from the water in orange trunks and black hair slicked back with salt water. An older and shorter man follows him up the coast and talks to him. You stare at him with your eyes following each of the tan’s movements. He notices your staring as he stares right back at you, eyes piercing into yours deliciously. His smile exposes his teeth and he knocks his head to the side and waves at you. The older man slaps the side of his head and scolds him.

You laugh at him before he tells the older man something then jogs over to you. His warm skin is a bronzy, and you swear there were twinkles of gold mixed in his skin shining against the light. “Hey, I’m Daniel. What are you reading?” The New Jersey accent rings out and you can't help but feel warmer.

“Oh some dumb romance. My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you Daniel. Is that your Grandfather?” You cover your book up subconsciously to attempt to not get embarrassed, and point at the older man who seems weirdly angry next to the old car from the 40s.

Daniel shakes his head in response. “No, no. That’s Mr. Miyagi, he's my karate sensei. Is your book good?” He asks and you nod at his explanation, showing him you agreed.

“Yeah, my book is pretty good. You like karate? That's pretty awesome.” You tell Daniel and stare into his eyes. They're a soft, dark brown with a puppy-look inside of them. He looks your age, as he gets thrown a West Valley High soccer shirt that's bigger than him as he shrugs it on over his shoulders.

Daniel leaves with the older man after inviting you to the beach for a party held by the Football team and Cheer Team. You showed up in a baggy sweater and a pair of shorts. Daniel waved at you whenever he saw you, as he kicks around a soccer ball impressively on his two legs. You walk over to him and he laughs and kicks the ball over to you, and you catch it and throw it back to him with a shared laugh with him.

He sits down in the sand and you scoot closer to him. You're handed some hotdogs and sticks to cook over the fires made on the beach. You start one and hold a conversation about where you're from, why you were visiting, etc. The conversation was long, and filled with laughter and glances held longer than usual. Daniel handed you a drink and you declined, and he didn't drink as well.

You and Daniel just talk; it feels quite amazing. You haven't had a conversation like that in a long time, but everything falls out and you let your hand fall into his as you star-gaze further away from everyone else who was drunk and half-a drink away from throwing up on the beach. You almost find yourself staring at him more than the stars, admiring him underneath the full moon and stars. He looks beautiful both times: morning and night.

How are you supposed to leave Reseda and not think about Daniel when you leave back to Connecticut?

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to see you again.”

[hungwy]

So for the last few hours I've been looking into the intellectual history of those "12 Jungian archetype" mandalas like above. You'd assume by name that it was Jung who even thought up this wheel of personality types, but it's not.

A psychoanalyst by the name of Carol Pearson released a book in 1986 called "The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By", a work which combined Jungian archetype theory with Joseph Campbell's monomyth theory, building up six archetypes (the Innocent, the Orphan, the Wanderer, the Warrior, the Martyr, and the Magician). Now, Jung does identify a few archetypes in his works, but from skimming Jung epubs I can't really find why just six archetypes would be justifiable for Pearson through Jung. She states in this book that "Although quite a large number of archetypal plots may be available to us, most do not influence our development as much as these six." Like okay... where do they come from? Since these six correlate much better with the fantastical themes of Campbell -- who admittedly I don't really know too much about -- maybe the answer to what decides six archetypes specifically (rather than say four or five) is within his work.

Anyway, about five of these six archetypes were later integrated into her 1991 book "Awakening the Heroes Within: Twelve Archetypes to Help us Find Ourselves and Transform Our World" (note that we've doubled our archetype count). It's in this book that Pearson gives archetypal pairings: "Security" is made up of Innocent and Orphan, "Identity" has Seeker and Lover, "Responsibility" has Warrior and Caregiver, "Authenticity" has Destroyer and Creator, "Power" has Magician and Ruler, "Freedom" has Sage and Fool, which creates a nice and equal basis for the circular mandala structure of the archetypes we have now. But I don't think there are any mandalas in this book, just tables. Well, so far so good, we are now at twelve archetypes, and they are grouped up in a certain way, but we don't have them positioned just right yet, and are missing the core of our mandala. But Pearson has other work to consider.

In 2001, she collaborated with Margaret Mark for "The Hero and the Outlaw: Building Extraordinary Brands Through the Power of Archetypes" to produce "the first system for the management of meaning", coining the idea of brand stories by way of Pearson's Jungian and Campbellian influences. It's interesting to note that they also explicitly link consumer motivations with Maslow's theories of motivation (which is related to his hierarchy of needs). This is where the Stability/Control and Risk/Mastery axes are transformed into the four core terms of the stereotypical 12-archetype mandala (but you'll see below that I think she had the idea for this probably before this book with Mark).

In 2002 or 2003 she collaborated with a guy named H.K. Marr to create the Pearson-Marr Archetype Indicator (PMAI). Apparently they had worked on this test together for "several years", so this was almost certainly being produced at the same time or even before Pearson's marketing/branding work, so it's hard to say which came first.

All that said I still haven't found out how exactly this mandala has come to be. The mandala form is obviously Jung-inspired to begin with. The 12 archetypes as presented certainly come from the PMAI test. The four core aspects/archetypes come from Maslow's motivational axes, which as far as I can tell was only integrated in her 2001 book with Mark, so whoever made the mandala must've been aware of that work as well. I don't know. Nothing's been answered and I have more questions than when I started. But it was fun

[queenofglassbeliever]

Has anyone figured out the Twilight movieverse timeline? It's way more confusing than it has any right to be.

For starters, Twilight (2008) starts around two months later than when the book begins. (Which is January) And is presumably set in the same year as it's release.

According to the official wiki, James is killed in Spring 2008 (in movie).

Okay, I'm with it so far. First movie takes place in 2008. And the rest follow the timeline of the books, but in 2008/9 instead of 2005/6. Right?... Right?

Bella's 18th birthday will be Sept. 13 2008 instead. But that's on a Saturday. And Bella went to school on her birthday and on the day after.

Wait, doesn't Edward say his age in New Moon? He does!

And we know what year he was turned and how old he was when he became a vampire.

Some quick math. 1918-17=1901. 1901+109=2010.

Wait, does the start of New Moon happen in 2010? Did Twilight happen in 2010?

Let's check Bella's birthday again. September 13 falls on a Monday in the year 2010. So she'd be at school on her birthday and the next day.

Riley's wanted poster in Eclipse (2010) also gives a clue.

Riley's birthday was changed from October 8, 1986 to April 10, 1990 for the movie. According to his missing person poster, Riley was last seen on Friday, May 21, 2010. And Charlie and Riley's parents have been searching for him for over a year. So, Riley must've been turned in to a vampire in 2009? And in the book timeline, Victoria changed Riley around a month after James's death. Is that the same for the movie? That would mean the Twilight movie, and the beginning of New Moon, takes place in 2009. But that math doesn't math with Edward's age. And doesn't fit Bella's birthday.

If the date that Riley was last scene coincides with the date Victoria bit him, then that works with the idea of Twilight happening in 2010. Riley would have been turned in May 2010 and James would've been killed in April. Bella's 18th birthday would fall on Monday, September 13, 2010. Then most of the rest of New Moon would happen in 2011. As would Eclipse and the Breaking Dawn movies. Which works out with the date printed on the wedding invitations.

Saturday, August 13, 2011.

But back it up to Eclipse for a minute. Rosalie's newspaper, the one she reads as Carlisle wraps Bella's hand/wrist. It's Friday, June 18, 2010.

This newspaper sets Eclipse in 2010. So the wedding invitations should have been dated 2010. Or the newspaper should be dated Saturday, June 18, 2011.

The movieverse timeline is pretty unclear, but I think there's enough to support that they mainly take place in 2010 and 2011.

[xo-myloves]

This is really random but can you tell me as much as you can about Izzy Stradlin rq? .. i'm doing research! (For private purposes hehe)

Shit man, I know a lot but I’m bad about being on the spot, I’m literally gonna put all the shit I know and put it in a chat gpt summary so it makes more sense! I hope that’s okay!

Izzy Stradlin, born Jeffrey Dean Isbell on April 8, 1962, in Lafayette, Indiana, is an American guitarist, singer, and songwriter. He is best known as a co-founder and former rhythm guitarist of the iconic rock band Guns N’ Roses. Stradlin played a pivotal role in the band’s early success, contributing significantly to their songwriting and distinctive sound.

Early Life and Career:

Stradlin developed an interest in music during his teenage years, influenced by bands like The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith. After moving to Los Angeles, he formed several bands, including Hollywood Rose with his childhood friend Axl Rose. This collaboration eventually led to the formation of Guns N’ Roses in 1985. As the rhythm guitarist, Stradlin co-wrote many of the band’s classic songs, including “Sweet Child o’ Mine,” “Paradise City,” and “Patience.”

Personal Life and Relationships:

Stradlin is known for maintaining a private personal life. He was previously married to Aneka Kreuter; their marriage ended in divorce in 2001. As of 2016, Stradlin was living in or around Ojai, California. 

According to available information, Stradlin has been in relationships with several individuals over the years, including Angela Nicoletti (1986–1987), Desi Craft (1985–1986), and Pamela Manning (1984). He has also had encounters with Suzette (1987), Monique Lewis (1985), Valeri Kendall (1984), and Adriana Smith. Details about these relationships are limited, reflecting Stradlin’s preference for privacy. 

Friendships and Collaborations:

Throughout his career, Stradlin has maintained friendships with several musicians, most notably Axl Rose, with whom he formed Hollywood Rose and later Guns N’ Roses. Despite leaving the band in 1991, Stradlin has occasionally reunited with his former bandmates for performances. He also formed the band Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds, collaborating with musicians like Rick Richards and Charlie Quintana.

Current Life:

Stradlin continues to lead a low-profile life, occasionally releasing solo music and making guest appearances. His preference for privacy means that detailed information about his current personal life and relationships is scarce.

In summary, Izzy Stradlin’s contributions to rock music, particularly through his work with Guns N’ Roses, have left an indelible mark on the industry. Despite his fame, he has managed to keep his personal life largely out of the public eye, maintaining a level of privacy that is rare in the music world.

(Now looking at this, I could’ve fucking wrote this, I’m just lazy and doing smut 😔🙌)

[ngalu]

Stranger Things 5 time jump.

See the update below.

Okay, hear me out! I think I figured out the time jump situation for Season 5! (I might be a little late on this but whatever)

Everyone's already figured that there is going to be some kind of time jump after the end of season 4. And if you haven't been following the news as I have, I think the new photos of Gaten Matarazzo as Dustin Henderson should make that pretty clear.

Now, Season 4 left us on a cliffhanger sometime in March of 1986. But last year in November, we got some leaked photos from on-set indicating that Christmas was coming up or had passed in season 5.

Among these photos was this picture. But look at the bottom right corner: There is a date!

Saturday, November 21. That exact date occurred in the year 1987. But there's more! Here is a more recent photo from the Stranger Things 5 set.

In the corner is a book that @joycelhopper over on Twitter did some digging on, and it's called "Planning, Shaping and Slotting". And get this: It was released in 1988.

This could mean that roughly 2 years have passed between the end of season 4 and the start of season 5.

Major Update!

Alright people, I just saw the new Stranger Things 5 set leaks and I need to talk about it. You might think I'm reaching but I hate being wrong so better safe than sorry.

There are a few pictures out including some of Dustin and Mike but that's another post. But I wanna talk about this Coke can picture that was included among the leaks. Just a couple of props - no big deal, right? WRONG! Because this Coke can is ⭐Special⭐

A quick Google search will show you how Coke can designs have changed over the years and you'll notice how this particular Coke can was released in a certain year.

This might be a reach, HOWEVER, Given all the leaked info I now believe that it's possible that Stranger Things 5 could take place in 1989 (rather than 1988 as I once predicted).

AND given all the other set photos, Stranger Things 5 could also take place around the Fall of 1989 specifically. BOOM!

[ericdeggans]

Purple Rain at 40: Speaking with The Revolution on the film which made Prince a pop superstar and changed my life

I sat in a darkened movie theater 40 years ago, transfixed by a story that felt like it was centered on my pop culture life. Only years later, would I wind up living a reality that felt imported straight from the film’s narrative.

The movie was Prince’s introduction to superstardom, Purple Rain.

That film is now celebrating its 40th anniversary – the actual date was Saturday – and to mark the occasion for NPR, I caught up with two of Prince’s bandmates from The Revolution, guitarist Wendy Melvoin and drummer Bobby Z Rivkin -- with Morris Day, lead singer/leader of the Purple One’s funk band offshoot The Time chiming in through email. (read the story here)

Back then, I was a straight up disciple of Prince’s Minneapolis sound – a fan after listening to his 1981 album Controversy, I sifted through albums like 1999, Dirty Mind and For You for the funk bits that made an aspiring drummer sit up and take notice. To be honest, like a lot of Black folks back then, I was little more into the hardankle funk of The Time, with me and my friends growing up in Gary Indiana regularly sporting the Stacy Adams shoes and baggy pants favored by the group.

So imagine my surprise when I saw all that pop culture uniqueness splashed all over a movie screen in July 1984 courtesy of Purple Rain. Prince charged through scenes on a custom-made, lavender colored motorcycle like a guitar playing superhero, thundering through dazzling musical sequences like a new school James Brown, while Day and his onstage foil Jerome Benton provided the kind of comic relief needed to keep the whole scene from taking itself too seriously.

As someone who had just started a funk band in college at Indiana University, I was in awe of the powerful pop tunes and kinetic, sharp performances in the film’s musical moments. And backstage scenes where Wendy fought with Prince – known only as The Kid onscreen – urging him to play a song she and her girlfriend/keyboardist Lisa Coleman had written together, felt like 100 arguments I’d seen in all the band I’d ever played in.

“It was sort of the perfect mix of time, place and people,” Wendy told me a few weeks ago, when I interviewed her by Zoom about the experience of making Purple Rain. “They wanted the dynamic to be as real as possible. So they did, when they were writing the script, come to us and say, okay, what would you say if this situation happened? Or how would you act if that happened? So they were able to capture a kind of authenticity and put in into the script.”

The film turned Prince into a superstar, powered by a simple story: The Revolution is on the verge of failure until The Kid agrees to play Wendy and Lisa’s song – Purple Rain, of course—at the legendary Minneapolis club First Avenue. His emotional performance kicks off a scorching finale that galvanizes the crowd and saves the band.

Just a few years later, I would live that same storyline when the group I co-founded in college, Voyage Band, was on the verge of failure, rescued by a hit single written for a charity record that exploded over local radio in 1986. When we played a show at a local club that we expected to be lightly attended, and the place instead packed with fans who sang along with our song when we played it onstage, I felt like I was living the story of Purple Rain in real time. Eventually, we signed contract with Motown Records, though our record was never released - the song Strange Situation, can be heard here.

Back in the mid-1980s, MTV had only recently begun playing videos by Black artists. And there was nothing like the level of information available to fans now about their favorite performers via social media. So seeing music videos and a film that provided a fictionalized history for Prince – showing him struggling with an abusive father and navigating tensions with his band – felt like a brief window into an artistic world fans had previously only seen through listening to the music and poring over album liner notes.

All of it was shrouded by a mystique in which Prince and his collaborators rarely talked with the press, which helped stoke interest in the work, but also made it tough for some musicians from The Revolution when Prince decided to disband the group in 1986.

“I kind of resented the fact that, you know, people just thought I turned on a machine and went to play and then turned it off,” said Bobby, who began working with Prince in the late 1970s and stayed friends with him until the pop icon’s death in 2016 of an accidental fentanyl overdose. “There was a lack of transparency about how it all went down…But I knew the mystique was cool…definitely didn’t want to blow that. And he trusted us to not give out the secret sauce.”

I actually met Prince months before his death at his home studio in Minneapolis, Paisley Park. He had invited the National Association of Black Journalists, which had a conference in the city, to his facility, sitting down with a small crowd of us to talk passionately about the need for artists to retain control of their work in the face of the streaming revolution (here’s the story I wrote for NPR about it).

Wendy says The Revolution had talked with Prince about year before his death about reuniting; her last conversation with him was about plans to visit him at his home studio Paisley Park with her young son. Bobby recalls hearing local news reports in Minneapolis about an ambulance called to Paisley Park and then later learning of Prince’s death.

“This shy kid that I met…turned into one of the greatest entertainers of all time,” Bobby says. “I got to know him. He was probably my best friend….someone that people just revere and are mystified by and I got to have an intimate relationship musically and personally [with him.] He changed the world. And it’s just incredible to have lived that moment with him.”

All of this explains why Purple Rain was such a landmark for me personally and pop music in general. It’s an achievement worth remembering, at a time when the march of technology and pop culture too often threatens to erase the memory of how we all got here, in the first place.