#raw deal (1986)

[80smovies]

[sesiondemadrugada]

Raw Deal (John Irvin, 1986).

[apicturespeaks]

Raw Deal, John Irvin

[peter-ash]

[vilebird]

FUNERAL AFTER A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE

a painting of a pale sky and bright blue sea crashing onto dark rocks and foaming. it's oriented the right way. - Day, by Frederick Judd Waugh

"and the man looks me in the eyes and he points to the blue-orange vault over heaven's gates and he says the face of everyone you miss is up there and i know i know i can't see them but i know" - And What Good Will Your Vanity Be When The Rapture Comes, by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib

"i've cut myself off. i can feel the place / where i used to be attached. it's raw, as when you grate / your finger. it's a shredded mess / of images. it hurts." The Door, by Margaret Atwood

"i found you / i found the door / but when i stepped through / there was no floor" I want you, by Mitski

a still from a video of a bright setting sun against a dark orange sky and dark blue sea, with the caption "don't cry" - The Green Ray (1986)

"i feel dead. / i feel as if i were the residue of a stranger's life" - The Lost Pilot, by James Tate

"the shuddering moan of blood, a song to calm the sacrificial, the loss across the river. the way a dying animal will look at you is seared into me. we tie together and all over again." - i cant remember what this one is sorru

"i am feeling numb. it's a curious feeling, and i get it all the time. my attention to the world around me disappears, and something starts to hum inside my head. far off, voices try to bump up against me, but i repel them. my ears fill up with water and i focus on the humming inside my head. / i am inside my skull. it is a little cave, and i curl up inside it. below it, my body hovers, unattached." - Madness: A Bipolar Life, by Marya Hornbacher.

"-though we're dry and waiting. part of me died here so another could go on. the body i raised-" - When They Say you Can't Go Home Again What They Mean is You Where Never There, by Marty McConnell

text: "there'll always be a few things / maybe several things/ that you're gonna find / really difficult to forgive" image: a black silhouette of a minotaur sitting on top of a pale pillar rising out of a pale maze, looking out at an orange sunset over an empty desert beyond the walls of its maze. the text is black letters on white pasted in strips over top. - Up the Wolves by the Mountain Goats and Minotauro by Jordi Garriga Mora. collage put together by @scatterghosts

"i know there are things i haven't survived." - Lord of the Butterflies, by Andrea Gibson

"it seems to me that the dead only return for love or for revenge. who did you come back for?" - White is for Witching, by Helen Oyeyemi

a painting of a bright white bird on a background split between dark blue and black - Promised Land (2013), by Michael Creese

"and with or without your support, i will continue / what im trying to say is you never know what you've been through / til you pause and cough it out" - Cough It Out by The Frontbottoms

"painting all the mirrors black / i won't see you staring back / i'm getting lost forever / searching in the broken glass / trying to ignore the past / and put myself together" - Mirrors by 8 Graves

"saint calvin told me not to worry about you / but he's got his own things to deal with / there's really just one thing we have in common: / neither of us will be missed" - Saint Bernard by Lincoln

"so many bright lights to cast a shadow / but can i speak? / well, is it hard understanding / that i'm incomplete?" - Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance

"being in a completely normal nonthreatening scenario & environment and thinking 'i have GOT to get the fuck out of here' with the intensity of some trapped neurotic prey animal" - tumblr post by user @greelin

"but you know me / what can't i conjure into hysteria / and longing? / any place is a funeral as soon as i get there. / of course i'm the disaster / but you're the one foolish enough / to learn my name." - The Next Time We Talk on Facebook, by Clementine von Radics

"if your wounds are still open, trust / they are the doors to an answer, / and walk through." - You Better Be Lightning, by Andrea Gibson

text: "what a tremendous thing to learn from" image: black text on white strips across a blue-orange gradient - i forgot this one too sory

"when the body remembers, it bucks wildly / when we try to heal, the phantom smell returns / while in the shower, you break down / while you wash your body you realise it is not your body / and at the same time, it is the only body you have" - Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head, by Warsan Shire

"that was the thing. you never got used to it, the idea of somebody being gone. just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking." - The Truth About Forever, by Sarah Dessen

"the spirit is so hurt / it don't know the / body / it / looks in / the mirror / and asks, who is it?" - On/My/Aging, by Carolyn Marie Rodgers

"could we sit together in new bodies, shoulder to tender / shoulder, / the lovely and the thorned, the bitter and the failed, / the grave to the left of us, the sea to the right?" - 8, Always a Rose, by Li-Young Lee

"the fact of the matter is / you survived, / it's what you do. / death and you / walk side by side / all sigh and scythe / you stay alive. / and you have the right / but struggle to believe. / you're still allowed / to be alive. / it feels inappropriate." - It's What You Do, by Lena Oleanderson @lena-oleanderson

a painting of a bright orange sky at sunset, sun nowhere to be seen, over a pale sea crashing onto dark rocks and foaming. it's oriented upside down. - Night, by by Frederick Judd Waugh

[theactioneer]

Raw Deal (John Irvin, 1986)

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Fire Island Fics (1970s Era)

An assortment of fics prominently featuring Fire Island and/or the 70s era… not necessarily together. Some time travel or fics that span decades including the 70s or Fire Island adjacent.

✨ Show the authors some love with your comments and kudos after reading. Likes are lovely, but please reblog this post to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🔥 Only Himself to Blame [E, 1K] by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🏝️ Balls deep [E, 2K] by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter Sorry, but that coked up threesome from Episode 7 refused to leave me. Exploring what Hawk really wanted that night... Added a Chapter 2 that shows Tim's perspective.

🔥 gold-skinned, eager baby [E, 10K] by @lispenard-street | lispenardstreet Tim sets out for Fire Island with a single goal: to dig Hawk out of his pit of self-destruction.

As it turns out, Hawk is after something else entirely.

A 1979 fix-it… of sorts.

🏝️ Just Like Church [E, 12K] by @bre1995 | bre_thomas & @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) It starts with a postcard. With Skippy, I need you. It starts with Tim arriving on Fire Island. Where it goes, only the Island knows.

A retelling of White Nights, with some tweaks.

🔥 'I Look at You' [E, 2K] by @bre1995 | bre_thomas Tim and Hawk have an intimate and peaceful conversation over dinner. When old feelings start creeping back in.

🏝️ I'm Sorry [M, 8K] 💠 by arrowtheapollo Set on Fire Island in the 1970s. Tim finds his way back home after the T party, and he and Hawk have a heart-to-heart that they should've had years ago.

🔥 I Have You [NR, 1K]  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific  After receiving a cryptic postcard, and hearing from Lucy that Hawk's in trouble, Tim takes a trip back east to find out for himself.

A different version of the events that unfold on Fire Island, told from Tim's perspective.

🏝️ To Have And To Hold [M, 945] 💠 by Joycee What could have happened between Hawk’s breakdown and the talk with Tim by the pool on Fire Island.

🔥 a place to be [E, 5K] by @satelarry | satelarry Tim and Hawk spend a week at their house in Fire Island. The brown haired man's been fantasizing about something that his boyfriend is happy to oblige.

🏝️ this time imperfect [M, 16K] by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup 1986. Marcus arrives at Hawk's house and gives him a box. Marcus doesn't know that the paperweight in the box is a time traveling device. Will Hawk change anything, given the chance? We'll see.

🔥 My Friend Tim [G, 2K] 💠 by Joycee Hawk’s explanation to Lucy & Kimberly when he returned from Fire Island.

🏝️ something i can't go without [E, 8K] by @satelarry | satelarry Hawk goes to Fire Island to escape dealing with his feelings, but that isn't far away from Tim's kind heart.

Perhaps he doesn't want it to be.

Or, The Meat Rack AU.

🔥 It's more than just words, it's just tears and rain [E, 2K] by @fuddlewuddle | Fuddlewuddle “Why didn’t you let me just carry on trying to drink myself to death?”

Tim jolts from the doze he’d start to fall into it at Hawk’s question, brow furrowing as his sleep fuzzy brain tries to process the words; before sitting up suddenly, because what the fuck?

🏝️ There's no place I'd rather you be than with me. [E, 719]  by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes

Their embrace was raw and primal, fueled by the angst of wanting each other but being afraid to admit it.

🔥 in the night when I start to miss you [E, 2K] by @alorchik | alorchik One night, a shared fantasy, and two souls, entwined across time and space.

🏝️ Constant Craving Has Always Been [M, 4K] by @kayleebye | kayleebye I've always wondered what happened between Hawk and Tim after their heart-to-heart poolside in episode 7. This is my version of what transpired between them after they left the poolside and the next morning when they had a big fight and Tim says "It meant nothing to you. Everything we said last night. Everything we have been through...." and storms out.

🔥 too late to run for cover [NR, 3K] by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords Lucy's done with Hawk's drinking and tells him to leave, so he buys a house on Fire Island and decides to fully integrate into the lifestyle at great detriment to his own well-being.

Part 1 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles

🏝️ to share a kiss the devil has known [NR, 8K] by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords After the loss of his son, Hawk is dancing close to total self-destruction and begging for Tim to come to him. It takes everything in Tim to say no, to keep his distance, but how long can that possibly last?

Part 2 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles

🔥 nowhere's home and i'm all wrong [M, 3K] by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords Hawk wants to make dinner for Tim in order to convince him that everything is fine, when it's clearly not. He can only keep up the facade for so long. Part 3 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles

🏝️ Spaces Between Us [T, 3K] by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific Hawk finally opens up about Jackson, and Tim gives him a bit of tough love advice. An extended scene, if you will, or a canon-divergent exploration of the late-night poolside conversation.

Part 1 of Fire Island Ever After

🔥 Pretty Weeds [T, 7K] by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific Hawk has really put Tim through the emotional wringer this weekend, and he seems far too nice to deserve any of it. Rafael tries his best to give his new friend a warm send-off and a few words of wisdom.

Or, the walk to the ferry from Rafael's POV. Chapter Two: Rafael gives Hawk some tough love after he returns from seeing Tim off on the ferry.

🏝️ hold on (i'm coming) [NR, 2K] by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords Hawk's nightly phone calls become increasingly desperate until Tim has no choice but to go to him.

🔥 Craig [E, 2K]💠 by arlenejp Craig was searching for another male to love but found Hawkins Fuller. I had to fill out this person's story a bit so we could understand more about why Craig was around Hawk on Fire Island.

(Not Quite) Fire Island, Adjacent and other 70s Era Fics

🔥 Cutting this short would be most logical option [T, 4K] by @timothydavidlaughlin | mauralabingi It's a lovely day in 1980 and Tim's enjoying a quiet day off. Then there's a knock on his door.

🏝️ He tried---He really tried. But Lost. [E, 6K] by @arlenejp | arlenejp Since there is no backstory as to who or what Craig is, I decided to write something about him. Something about his feelings toward Hawk and their Fire Island escapades.

🔥 Don't leave it to the last dance [M, 2K] by @fuddlewuddle | Fuddlewuddle Tim is in hospital. Hawk brings him his mail. One letter is not like the others.

🏝️ a man i once knew [T, 3K] 💠 by vexinganthony It was the sort of love you read about in novels, none of which Tim had read, but he didn’t need to. He still felt it in his bones, a feeling so potent and alive in his blood, in every breath that he took, every beat of his heart.

It called out just one name.

The name of the man currently standing mere feet away from him with his wife and daughter.

Or, Tim and hawk find themselves at a charity gala in 1974.

🔥 Too old to play (and too young to mess around) [M, 60K] by @bejeweledmp3 | ninav Kimberly Fuller goes on a two-week vacation to San Francisco, in which she: drinks excessive amounts of tea, gets betrayed, cries more than she should, eats donuts, and seeks out truth with the help of a man she only knows from a presentation card; not necessarily in that order.

But mostly, she finds her father in every least expected place. And learns to make her peace with what that means.

🏝️ we'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac [M, 4K] by @jesterlesbian | captainquint He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had.

The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket.

An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one.

“What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?”

Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco.

🔥 I Reach for You (And You Bring Me Home) [M, 1K] by @misstwentyynine | misstwentyynine In 1952, Hawk and Tim meet for the first time at a bar located in the enigmatic paradise of Fire Island, forging a powerful connection that continues to bring them together as their story progresses through space and time.

Or, The San Junipero AU

🏝️ The Crumbling Beard [M, 30K] 💠 by AnonymouslyUnknown1900 What was happening with Lucy while Hawk was with Tim for who knows how long in San Francisco? What was going through her mind during the days of no contact with Hawk? What eventually caused her to divorce the man she's been married to for 31 years?

After a phone call with her distant brother (who is now a porn producer) Leonard, everything ends up coming together. Videos from "Fire Island", and other discoveries that the two siblings made after reuniting is unearthed, which not only causes them to bond closer, but it puts a permanent end to Hawk's relationship and ties to the Smiths.

🔥 Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps It’s Real [NR, 35K] 💠 by drabbleswabbles And then it happened. The metallic screech of the gate, the shuffle of men stepping out beyond the prison walls. And suddenly there he was. His hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it. And his glasses were different. But it was him. Their eyes met. Tim stared at him in wide-eyed shock before recognition melted his features into a confused outrage.

Basically a fix-it in which Hawk finds himself back in the early 70s.

But wait... there's more! Check out Part Two here.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn't linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked already, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

[gerrystamour]

i could be honest, i could be human [Chapters 9 & 10]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST PART ] [ PREVIOUS PART ] [ NEXT PART ]

When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly. “What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in. “Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Chapter Nine: March 1986

It took Robin until the spring of the following year for the stars to align in a way for her to figure Steve’s crush out, and by then he thought he’d largely gotten over it.

Between graduating and working full-time, he hadnʼt actually seen Eddie since that night over the summer. The only times he would was while he was dropping Robin off at school and picking her up, and the other man was usually too busy with his friends to notice him. Part of him used to wish Eddie would notice him, look over and see his Beemer and wave, maybe even walk over.

But he never did, and they stopped running into each other in public, so Steve put his thoughts and energy elsewhere. No use pining over someone he wasn’t even brave enough to be friends with. Things with his dad were more tense than they had ever been, and Steve didn’t want any of his rage directed at Eddie if he could help it.

After the fight over the summer,  Robin instated a new rule and enforced it ruthlessly: Steve was never to go back to his house alone. It was tough to keep the reason for the rule a complete secret, so eventually Steve sat down and talked about it to Nancy. It had been a rough conversation, one that left them both raw and feeling guilty for things all over again. But once it was over with, Steve had another ally in his corner, another person who saw him and loved him all the same.

When his parents were in town, Steve was either at Robin’s house or he would crash in the spare room at Dustin’s. Over the years, Claudia had grown increasingly fond of Steve and he had dinner with them multiple times a week, especially after he “saved” Dustin in the mall fire. It wasn’t long until Claudia gave Steve a spare key and told him to come and go as he pleased, that her home was his.

The last time Steve went to the house in Loch Nora was to pick up the rest of his clothes and the handful of keepsakes he actually cared about. His next stop was the post office to have his mail forwarded to Robin’s address.

Steve knew he wasn’t free yet, that he would have to actually deal with his parents eventually, and he knew his every action was likely still reported back to them by some nosy gossip, but he felt free.

It wasnʼt a surprise when Steve started seeing the Freshmen following Eddie around eventually. He was even less surprised when Dustin started talking about him constantly. Eddie was exactly the type of person Dustin would latch onto and become obsessed with.

It was… annoying, if Steve was honest. 

For one, Steve felt an intense jealousy when he listened to Dustin talk about Eddie; over the fact that Dustin could hang out with Eddie so often or because Dustin seemed to like him more than Steve, Steve couldn’t tell. Secondly, there really was a limit to how many times someone could tell the same story about the same person before it got old.

So yeah, Steve was over Eddie. He even took several very successful solo trips to a bar in Indianapolis and felt like he really figured himself out. It felt… nice to be around a whole new group of people and to be wanted for simply being himself. No one there knew him as King Steve, or that he came from money. No one knew his father and avoided him. Steve was just some small-town pretty-boy and he liked the anonymity in that.

While he wouldn’t call himself experienced, it was enough that Steve knew what he enjoyed when he slept with other men. He liked to think he didn’t have a type either when it came to men either, just like he didn’t think he had a type of woman. Just because the men he ended up going home with had longer hair, calloused fingertips, and a preference for wearing leather and denim didn’t mean anything. They always just happened to be the men brave enough to approach him. 

One of the bartenders told him it had to do with his whole Good Boy get-up, and she’d laughed when Steve informed her that he was wearing his normal clothes. That was an enlightening night, as she had taken him home after the bar closed and he learned just what was possible even when sleeping with a woman.

It was through his experimentation and flirting at the bar that Steve realized that Eddie was possibly actually interested in him at some point, or at the very least attracted to him. There was something about the way the men he slept with would touch and look at him, before they were kissing or falling into a bed together that brought back little moments with Eddie. It was a bittersweet thing to realize, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

Eddie Munson would always be Steve’s wakeup call, and he would always be grateful for that, but Steve learned his way through a whole new aspect of his sexuality on his own. 

And again, he felt that he was well and truly over his crush.

So in March, when Steve recognized the trailer behind a reporter describing a gruesome murder that took place and the kids burst through the front doors of Family Video demanding use of their phones to find Eddie, he didn’t have to try that hard to be nonchalant about the whole situation. Nevermind how deeply invested he was in the search, even as he tried to ignore them and instead do his job.

It wasn’t until Eddie had pinned him to a wall with a broken bottle against his throat that Steve realized his crush was very much alive and thriving. He knew it was inappropriate, especially given that Eddie had clearly been crying and looked close to doing just that again. But Steve had still blushed a bit, glanced at Eddie’s mouth, and then blushed even more.

Quickly regaining his composure, Steve looked over Eddie’s shoulder at Robin to plead for her help in calming Eddie down, and to his dismay there was a thoughtful expression on her face. It was just a second of her glancing between them, and then it was replaced with wide-eyed understanding. Thankfully she exercised some rare tact and focused on helping Dustin talk Eddie down, but she gave Steve a look that clearly said, ‘You will not hear the end of this for the rest of your life.’

As they left the boathouse after debriefing Eddie on the horrors that lived under Hawkins, Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled him to a stop. Max and Dustin continued without them, bickering about their next move.

“We’re going to talk about that,” she said firmly, but there was a smirk threatening to overtake her mouth.

“Don’t you think we have bigger problems, Buckley?” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Hell-ooo! Lovebirds! We’re kind of in a hurry!” Dustin yelled, practically shrieked from the car.

“Henderson, can you lower the volume?” Steve hissed, gesturing around them at the darkness before turning to look back at Robin. “See? Bigger. Problems.”

“Of course,” she agreed before she started walking again, quietly adding, “we can’t have your boyfriend framed for murder by an evil wizard from a shadow dimension underneath Hawkins, right?”

Steve let out a long-suffering moan, trudging along behind her. “Ugh, can you shut up?”

❖

Steve sat in the back of the RV, struggling with removing the scraps of Nancy’s sweater from his injuries. They were looking pretty bad after several hours of not cleaning them out properly. That wasn’t even mentioning the injuries on his back that largely went unattended. Plus his throat hurt from being strangled, and the taste of the Demo-bat’s blood wouldn’t leave his mouth, no matter how much he brushed his teeth or tried to wash it out.

Altogether, Steve was not having a great time. Why was he always the one who got beat up every time the world ended?

He knew the answer to that before he even finished asking himself the question. Maybe if he stopped throwing himself between malevolent beings and his loved ones, he would come out of these situations looking a lot less like he had been processed through a meat grinder. However, Steve knew that the only way he would ever stop is if it actually finally killed him one day.

A noise caught Steve’s attention, and when he looked up he saw Eddie sitting in one of the front seats. They were still pulled over at the field, preparing for battle, and Steve hadn’t realized Eddie had gone inside at all. When their eyes met, there was something about Eddie’s gaze that seemed… weird, but he schooled his expression before Steve could figure it out.

“You need help?” Eddie offered, gesturing at Steve’s pathetic attempts at first-aid.

Steve knew it was probably a bad idea to let Eddie put his hands on him. He knew it wouldn’t help his sad, wishful thinking at all.

“I can’t get to all of the injuries,” Steve admitted, and he put down the gauze as Eddie got up and stepped closer.

Neither of them said anything at first as Eddie took stock of the injuries around Steve’s middle. When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly.

“What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in.

“Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Steve barked out a laugh, even as a spike of heat lanced through his gut, and rolled his eyes. “I’m still trying to figure out the cover-story for these bad boys,” he joked, gesturing vaguely down at the angry wounds and keeping his thoughts as clean as possible. “Ask me again after the government finally shows the fuck up with the confidentiality paperwork.”

Eddie chuckled lightly even as his frown deepened, and he got to work. “Was… were all the other times cover-stories, too?” he asked after a few minutes.

“What?” Steve asked, wincing as Eddie worked.

“The other times you were injured. I’m just—I’m thinking about the timeline you guys gave me and now I’m just—did you actually get beat up by Jonathan Byers?” he finally asked outright, and Steve laughed.

“Yes, I actually got beat up by Jonathan Byers,” he confirmed, sighing. “He accepted my apology after I saved him from the Demogorgon, though.”

“Ah, okay. Him forgiving you makes a lot more sense with that context,” Eddie murmured teasingly, and Steve gasped in mock-outrage.

“Hey man, my apology was very sincere. I’m sure that would’ve done the trick, too,” Steve insisted petulantly, and as he’d hoped, Eddie smiled.

“Hey, y’know, I actually ran away? The first time the Demogorgon came?” Steve admitted and Eddie snorted. 

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed and Steve shook his head with a grin.

“Seriously, I made it through the first attack, had a freak-out, and when it came back…” he trailed off at the memory, shuddering a bit as the vague memory of his gut wrenching fear came back. “Nancy told me to leave— I mean, she pulled a gun on me—”

“She what?” Eddie exclaimed, looking up at Steve with his wide brown eyes that always made the butterflies in Steve’s stomach dance. 

“I was freaking out pretty bad,” Steve offered as an explanation, shrugging when Eddie’s brow pinched together skeptically. With an embarrassed roll of his eyes, Steve continued, “then I ran. Made it to my car and everything. Almost got in and drove away, too.” 

“What stopped you?” Eddie asked quietly, blinking up at him. 

“I, uh, dropped my keys. When I got to my car, I mean, and I donʼt know, stopping like that gave my brain enough time to think,” Steve explained, grimacing as he thought back to that moment when he stood in Jonathan’s driveway and watched the lights start flickering. “I realized I was just gonna go home? And Nance and Jonathan were going to fight this… fucking demon? And they might die?”

“You were what, seventeen?” Eddie asked, standing up to meet Steve’s eyes properly. “It would’ve been normal to fucking run, Steve.”

“Almost seventeen, yeah,” Steve replied flippantly before he looked at Eddie pointedly. “Still. I couldn’t just leave them. Just like you couldn’t sit tight and hide. Or stay in the boat.”

Silence lapsed between them again as Eddie mulled that over, his cheeks turning a bit pink under Steve’s attention. Clearing his throat finally, Eddie glanced away. 

“And the next year, did Billy actually try to kill you?” he asked after a bit, and Steve sighed.

“Yeup. I basically told you the whole story. Max was afraid he’d kill her, and he was actually going to kill Lucas,” he answered as if it was not a big deal, and to him it wasn’t. It all felt like the bare minimum, even in retrospect. “I was with the kids because Hopper was taking Eleven, y’know, the—”

“The girl with the psychic powers, yes,” Eddie interjected with a chuckle. “You’ve mentioned her.”

“Yeah, he was taking her to close the portal. Ms. Byers was dealing with Will, who was possessed by the Mindflayer.”

“Jesus,” Eddie hissed as he moved around Steve to clean up the wounds on his back. There was a long pause before Eddie asked, “And the mall fire?”

Steve tensed up at that, the entire Starcourt mess being the memory he wished would go away the most.

“Russians,” Steve said after a bit before elaborating, “My injuries, I mean. Russians. They tortured me and Robin, almost killed us. Dustin and Erica saved us. The mall fire was us fighting a giant flesh monster with fireworks.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie muttered, and Steve startled when the other man rested his forehead on the back of Steve’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, that’s just a lot to take in,” he said, clearing his throat and lifting his head again.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Steve laughed, shrugging, his skin still tingling where Eddie had rested against him. Clearing his throat, he gestured at the denim vest on the table. “I think your vest is toast, I’m really sorry.”

“Nah, man, don’t be sorry,” Eddie said softly, and suddenly he was resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder and grinning sidelong at him. “It demands payment in blood, and only that of idiot pretty-boy jocks will appease it after the first bloodletting, so really, you’re doing me a favour.”

Steve stared at Eddie out of the corner of his eye in confusion, a deep blush on his face at how close they were to each other, and then the memories finally came to him and he snorted unattractively. “Shit, sorry, I kinda forgot this isn’t the first time I bled on it,” Steve admitted while he laughed, and Eddie joined him quietly.

“I remember that day vividly, Harrington,” Eddie admitted as he backed away to get back to cleaning and dressing Steve’s injuries. “I think about it a lot.”

“Same, I mean thinking about it. A lot of details are really fuzzy, and there’s kind of… gaps in the memories,” Steve confessed quietly. “There’s a lot that I don’t remember from the aftermath, y’know? Maybe this time it’ll be different because so far, no concussion.”

“Okay, but you were strangled and oxygen deprivation—”

“Let me have this win, Munson,” Steve whined with a grin on his face, and Eddie laughed.

“I meant what I said down there, in the Upside-Down,” Eddie said suddenly after a short silence. “That you’re a good guy, even if that pissed me off at first. More than that, you’re amazing Steve. You’re funny, you’re actually kind of a nerd, and you’re a hero. I’m… really glad I got to know you, even if the world is ending tonight.”

Steve had been thinking about their conversation down there since it happened, and it had been gnawing at him the whole time. Having Eddie pushing him back toward Nancy had been frustrating at the time, nauseating even. 

Of course, Steve knew why people always jumped to that conclusion. 

She was his first love, his first real long term relationship and Steve hadnʼt been successful in the dating world since. Even his trips out to Indy werenʼt yielding results outside of casual flings and learning more about himself. Even Robin asked him one night when they were a little bit tipsy if he was still in love with Nancy. There was a part of Steve that questioned himself after a particularly long series of swings and misses. 

Nancy had been, at one point, his everything. Steve had seen a future with her that was within reach, something he might have been able to make even his dad at least tolerant of, and then he lost her. She was a bright spot, a candle in his lonely, dark world and when Steve fucked it up, he was left stumbling alone.

If Nancy was a candle, though, Eddie was the goddamn sun.

Eddie brought a warmth and brightness to every space he entered, and Steve desperately wanted to bask in it for the rest of his life if he could. Steve wanted Eddie, and he wanted to actually be with him. His need for the other man went so deep, it had become painful to keep it buried inside himself.

Steve didn’t want to— no, couldnʼt go back to the Upside Down with Eddie thinking he wanted anyone else, especially his ex-girlfriend. He wouldnʼt march dutifully toward what might be their deaths without telling Eddie.

Even if Eddie didn’t feel the same way, or he was never attracted to him at all, Steve had to let him know.

“You got something wrong down there, though,” Steve started.

“If you even try to downplay how fucking brave and selfless you are, Harrington, I’m—”

“I don’t want to be with Nancy anymore,” Steve said, turning to face Eddie properly. “And yeah, Nancy loves me, but not like that. We’ve been through too much together to not love each other. She jumped into the water because she knows I would’ve done the same. Any of us in this group would.”

Eddie stared down at Steve, the frown on his face deepening a bit. “Okay?” he said after a minute.

Steve sighed heavily, trying to quiet the butterflies in his gut, and then reached out to cup his hand around Eddie’s jaw. Eddie froze, wide-eyed, and Steve waited for Eddie to do something before continuing. After a few moments of Eddie’s huge brown eyes searching his face, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When Eddie relaxed and tipped his head minutely into his hand, Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped a bit closer to Eddie.

With another deep breath, Steve hooked a finger into one of Eddie’s belt loops and tugged on it a bit. When he looked up through his lashes at Eddie’s face, the other man didn’t look confused anymore; he looked hungry and Steve let himself bask in it for a second. 

There was a small part of Steve that couldn’t believe his luck, but he wasn’t going to question it either. He wanted Eddie so much, and it appeared that Eddie was into him as well. 

Steve was allowed to have this.

Breathing in sharply, Steve tipped his mouth up, close enough that he could feel Eddie’ breath on his lips, and started to say, “I’m saying all this right now because—”

The door to the RV banged open and the kids piled in, laughing and goofing off despite the situation. Steve would have been happy to hear it if they had waited maybe ten more minutes.

Eddie apparently had the same thought. “Jesus H. Christ, your timing!” he lamented, having already jumped out of Steve’s space, leaving Steve standing there with his hands awkwardly in the air for a second. “Can you guys just go back outside real quick, for five more minutes? Stevie’s still not decent.”

“We’ve all seen Steve with his shirt off,” Lucas said, his tone disgusted as he looked Steve over.

“And we don’t have five more minutes. Time to put your shirt on, Steve,” Dustin commanded, and Steve sighed as he grabbed the shirt he picked up at War Zone and put it on.

When Steve turned around, Robin was looking at him wide-eyed, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen when they all stormed in. Steve shrugged and put the leather jacket he bought back on and then, looking over his shoulder at Eddie again, he grabbed the battle vest and shrugged it on over top. Glancing down at himself, he definitely saw the appeal of wearing an outfit like that.

When he met Eddie’s eyes again, there was a moment where it looked like he was about to do something about Steve, their audience be damned, and Steve just raised an eyebrow.

The world was about to end, who cared anymore?

“Steve, come on, we’re losing daylight,” Nancy said urgently, an eyebrow raised high as she looked back and forth between him and Eddie. She was in the middle of setting down the weapons and organizing them. “What are you even doing?”

Steve turned away from Eddie fully and headed to the front of the RV, smirking slightly to himself as he heard Eddie cursing up a storm behind him.

Robin followed Steve to the front seat and smiled politely when she shoved past Nancy to take the passenger seat. “I’m invoking Best Friend Shotgun Privileges,” she said when Nancy looked like she was about to argue with her.

At that, Nancy just raised her eyebrows, glanced between the two of them then threw her hands up in surrender before wandering to the back of the RV to sit next to Eddie.

“Is Steve being weird right now?” Steve heard Nancy ask Eddie.

“Oh, Nance, you have no idea,” Eddie replied, and when Steve glanced back, Eddie was grinning and doing that thing where he hid his mouth with some of his hair while he looked out the window next to him. 

Steve smirked a bit and got to hot wiring the RV again like Eddie showed him.

Once they were on the road again and the noise of the RV blocked any conversation from the front reaching the back, Robin leaned over and rested her chin on Steve’s outstretched arm as he drove.

“Please tell me we didn’t interrupt what I think we just interrupted,” she begged softly and Steve laughed.

“You want me to lie to you, Robs?” he asked, raising an eyebrow down at her and she groaned.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine, you didn’t know,” Steve reassured her, lifting his other hand to pat her head. “Honestly, I didn’t know I was going to say anything until right before I started to say it.”

“You were just going to blab?” Robin asked, lifting her head with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, actually. I figured there’s a very high chance at least one of us might not make it out of this mess, so…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, now you’ll both just have to survive, won’t you?” Robin said, and while her tone was teasing, there was a desperate edge to it.

“Yeah, Robs, we will,” Steve said, smiling over at her before smirking again. “I think I got my point across anyway.”

“Oh, yeah? You have telepathy now, Steve?” Robin said sarcastically and Steve snorted.

“It’s called body language, Robs,” Steve replied, looking sidelong at her while she made a face up at him. “Is he still blushing?”

Robin looked back and snorted. “Oh yeah, and he’s gotten not only Nancy’s attention, but Dustin’s as well,” she explained and Steve just smiled broadly.

“Still got it,” he teased, winking over at Robin. 

She laughed out loud and began digging around the glove box until she found a clean napkin and a pen that worked. Then she spent the next little while scribbling while angling her body so Steve couldn’t see what she was doing. Finally, out of the corner of his eye he could see her cap the pen and then fold the napkin in a way that it hid what she wrote, like the notes that girls used to pass around class.

Leaning over, she slid the folded napkin in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Promise you won’t look at that until this is over and we’re all alive, okay?”

“I promise, Robs,” Steve said, smiling gently at her when she rested her chin on his arm again.

They were going to make it, Steve decided, because he had a boy to get and a note to read.

Chapter Ten: B-Side

The battle vest was ruined, Steve knew it was.

Just the blood from his own poorly tended wounds would have been enough to call it. But then he had to haul Eddie out…

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Steve shook his head and submerged the vest in the bathtub again for another soak. He had already tried the steps he knew for removing blood from denim, but that was drops from a nosebleed, or a skinned elbow.

This was from someone bleeding to death. This was from the boy he cared about so deeply it hurt bleeding out.

Another sharp inhale, another violent shake of his head, a slow breath out.

The water in the tub wasn’t even changing colour anymore, at least not by any amount that mattered. Steve would wring it out one more time and figure something out if it didn’t work. He’d let it soak for the time being, and maybe this was the time that the stain would just lift right out. It just needed patience and perseverance.

Steve’s fingers were almost painfully wrinkled with how long he had been working at his lost cause. He knew he didn’t have to hold the vest under the water, but there was something grounding about the pain of the cold water when Steve would submerge his hands for just a bit too long. Whenever he’d get too far inside his head, he would lean over the edge of the tub and hold the battle vest under the water until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Distantly, he heard the egg timer go off behind him and inhaled sharply before he lifted the vest out of the tub.

The water in the tub was practically clear.

Steve wrung the vest out as much as his numb fingers could manage, and the water in the tub stayed clear. Steve sucked in a breath through his nose, and it stuck in his chest, his throat filling with glass as he tried blotting the vest with a rag, but nothing was happening.

The battle vest was ruined. Steve couldn’t fix it, just like he couldn’t protect Eddie and Dustin, and he couldn’t stop Vecna before Eddie decided to be a hero, even after he promised.

There was a part of Steve that recognized he was barely keeping himself from having a breakdown on the bathroom floor of Claudia Henderson’s master bathroom. He had to get up and deal with the vest, to do something with it that wasn’t another soak-wring-blot cycle. He had to get off the floor and do something.

Distantly, he heard a vehicle out front and told himself that it was time to move. Steve couldn’t stay on the floor like that, it would upset Dustin. Claudia would be mad that he was in here; her hospitality would only go so far, he was sure, and this was her private space.

Steve had to get up.

The weight of everything—Max almost dying, Eddie bleeding out, almost failing to kill Vecna—kept Steve on the ground holding the ruined battle vest. Everything went blurry and a sob shuddered out of his chest, followed by another.

It sounded muffled, but he heard the front door open and shut, a voice call out and then footsteps thundering down the hall.

Steve could tell Claudia hadn’t taken off her shoes and he had to get himself under control. He bit his cheek hard enough to make it bleed, trying to use the pain to snap himself out of it, but he was too far gone.

The bathroom door opened, and Steve could hear Claudia say his name as she stopped the egg timer quickly.

“I’m fine,” he tried to choke out, but it came out as a garbled mess around a sob. “I’m sorry,” he tried, and he managed to make it understandable.

“Oh, Steve, sweetie,” Claudia cooed, and Steve realized she was kneeling next to him on the floor and rubbing his back.

He leaned toward her before he could stop himself, something inside him aching for something it had never received. Claudia didn’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on top of his head.

“You���ve been so brave through so much, haven’t you?” Claudia sighed, petting Steve’s hair. “I’ve got you, sweetie, don’t you worry.”

Steve couldn’t have pulled himself together after that if he tried. He just sobbed, letting all of his fear, anxiety, and grief out while he held the battle vest to his chest. It felt like hours that he sat there on the floor, crying his eyes out while Dustin’s mom held him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, he wore himself out, either running out of sadness or tears. Taking a deep breath in, he released it in a shuddering sigh.

“There it is,” Claudia said happily, patting his back carefully and pulling back to smile at Steve.

“There what is?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse, and he frowned at the tears on Claudia’s face.

“I like to call it the ‘first free breath.’ When you finally let out all the hurt and the sadness, and then you can breathe,” she replied, and she said it like it was so simple.

And yet, it was easier for Steve to breathe, easier than it had been in years, perhaps his whole life even. As if there had been something around his chest, slowly getting tighter every time he breathed out for as long as he could remember. Now, it was gone, or at least loosened.

“Now, what’s this?” Claudia asked, gesturing to the vest Steve was still holding tightly to his chest.

“It’s… my friend’s battle vest. He made it himself, and I was—he was bleeding a lot when—I wanted to fix it for him,” Steve answered, and it felt like he should be crying again but his body couldn’t muster the tears. “I wanted to fix it for when he woke up.”

Claudia searched his eyes and face for a long time. “Is this the young man that’s in surgery right now?” she asked, and Steve nodded quickly, opening his mouth to defend Eddie if she brought up the murders. She reached up and patted his cheek, shaking her head. “Dusty cares about him a lot, too.”

“He’s great with Dustin, Mrs. Henderson. You’d love Eddie, and I really hope you get to meet him,” Steve insisted quickly, and Claudia smiled warmly.

“I’m sure I’ll meet him. Can I see the vest, Steve?” she asked, holding her hand out for it, and he immediately passed it to her. Humming thoughtfully, she turned it over in her hands. “The vest is probably ruined, but a lot of the patches are fine, and the others might be salvageable. You get changed into some dry clothes, okay?”

Steve blinked at her a bit dumbly but nodded once. Claudia pulled him into one more hug before she got up and hurried out of the room. Doing as he was asked, Steve got into new pajamas and then went to Claudia’s bathroom to drain the tub and clean up the mess he made with water on the floor.

When he came back out, Claudia was sitting at the kitchen table with a seam ripper and carefully removing one of the patches. On the table were several Polaroids of the vest from all angles, and draped over the back of the chair next to her were a couple jean jackets.

When she glanced up at him and saw him frowning at the pictures, she smiled. “We’ll use the pictures to put them back where they belong,” she explained, gesturing between the vest, the pictures, and the jackets next to her.

Steve knew he should understand what she was getting at, but thoughts were moving through his head like molasses, and he couldn’t connect them. “What?” he asked softly.

Claudia looked up at him and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m used to talking to Dusty—you know how he is,” she laughed fondly before she looked up at him properly. “We’re going to make your friend a new one with as many of the old patches we can save, okay?”

Steve crumbled all over again, but this time it felt a lot less jagged.

Stepping closer, he wrapped Claudia in a tight hug and let out a sobbing laugh. “Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” he murmured.

“When are you going to call me Claudia like I keep asking you to, Steve?” she asked with a chuckle, carefully rubbing his back. “This is your home if you want it, for as long as you want it, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m just your host.”

Steve thought about that, and about this house being one of the only places that had ever felt like home to him. He thought about how he felt safe there, wanted, and even loved. Then he thought about how he intended to tell Eddie about his feelings as soon as he woke up and could handle a conversation like that. Steve didn’t want to live in a house where he had to hide parts of himself again.

He had kept himself formal around Claudia to keep his distance, like if he talked like she was a host it wouldn’t hurt as much once he overstayed his welcome. It wouldn’t hurt as much when she inevitably turned on him.

But she was insistent, and Steve wanted to stay here, and he wanted to know that if he did stay, he could bring Eddie around and not hide what they were to each other.

Pulling away, Steve sat down on one of the other dining room chairs and looked down at his hands while he thought about what he was going to say.

“Eddie isn’t my friend, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve said after taking a deep breath, and he flinched at his wording. “I mean, he is, right now because everything happened before I could tell him my—that I like him. That I might be a little in love with him.”

Silence followed his confession, and Steve cleared his throat.

“Is that okay?” he asked quietly, balling his hands into fists.

Claudia put the seam ripper down and took his hands in hers, encouraging Steve to relax his fingers. “Sweetie, I know why you think you do, but you don’t need my permission to love anyone. I want you to know that I will never tell you who you can or cannot love, do you understand?” she asked gently, and Steve nodded frantically.

“But it won’t be a problem if I bring him around? Or you see us holding hands?” Steve pushed, needing to be sure.

“It won’t be a problem, as long as he makes you happy, sweetie,” Claudia said so sincerely, Steve couldn’t find a single part of him jaded enough to doubt her.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers as he said, “Thank you, C-Claudia.”

The grin and hug he was rewarded with were huge, and Steve felt a properly happy laugh bubble up out of his chest.

❖

The next day, Steve returned to the hospital feeling a bit less like he was drowning. Eddie was stable and in recovery. The wounds themselves were relatively superficial, there had just been so many, and he had lost so much blood before he received treatment. At least that had been roughly what Wayne had explained to him on the phone that morning.

When Steve arrived at the hospital, he stopped to visit Max first like he always did. Ms. Mayfield was asleep on a cot next to Max’s bed, so Steve was quiet with his greeting and little updates. It broke his heart seeing her like that on the bed, quiet and pale, barely any movement aside from her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

Once he finally arrived at Eddie’s room, he was surprised to see Wayne still there. He knew the man worked nights, so he figured he’d need to be sleeping.

“Hello, Mr. Munson,” Steve said awkwardly as he shuffled over to the other available chair.

“Harrington,” Wayne greeted, looking him up and down with an unreadable expression.

Steve settled as comfortably as he could in his chair, trying to ignore Wayne staring at him while he pulled a book and a pair of glasses out of his backpack. He had the new battle vest in his backpack to work on since Claudia taught him how to do some basic stitches, but for some reason he was nervous about doing that in front of Wayne.

“What’re you doing here, boy?” Wayne asked, and Steve looked up at him, wide-eyed. Steve appreciated that Wayne at least tried to hide his disdain, but it was impossible to ignore.

“Sorry, I’ll leave,” Steve said quickly as he put his book away, even if leaving made a hollow feeling settle in his gut. “I’m sorry for—”

“I didn’t tell you to leave. I asked what you were doing here,” Wayne interrupted with a sigh, and something relaxed in his jaw.

Steve couldn’t think of a good answer, not sure what Wayne knew about Eddie. Then again, Steve was largely assuming that himself based on several years of too-gentle touches and one kiss that nearly happened.

But even if Wayne knew about Eddie, what should Steve say here? That he wanted to be there the second Eddie woke up so he could breathe properly again? That he wanted to be here to see Eddie’s smile and hear his laugh, to finally confess the feelings he had been building gradually inside him until they were spilling over? That he waited until the last possible moment to drum up the courage to say something, and then the moment passed, and he almost lost him forever?

“I care about him,” Steve said, and it felt woefully inadequate. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“You care about him,” Wayne responded thoughtfully, skepticism lying thick under the words. “What does that mean?”

Steve frowned at Wayne, knowing the man was challenging him. This was some sort of test. “I’m—I might be in love with him, Mr. Munson,” Steve replied, his heart pounding hard enough in his chest that he was sure Wayne could hear it.

As it was, Wayne’s eyebrows shot upward on his forehead at the confession. That was a bit satisfying, all things considered.

“What would your old man think about that, kid?” he asked after a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s face.

“Pardon my language, Mr. Munson, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks,” Steve replied firmly, shrugging with one shoulder. “The people who actually matter know about my feelings for Eddie. Richard Harrington can shove his thoughts about it up his ass for all I care.”

Steve ignored the flash of fear that went through him saying that. It frustrated him how scared he still was of his dad when he hadn’t even seen the man in months.

Wayne was looking at him, assessing him, before he relaxed fully in his chair. “Does he know?” he asked, nodding in Eddie’s direction.

“I think he does,” Steve replied sadly, slouching in his chair. “I tried to tell him, but I waited too long, and then everything happened. We just… ran out of time.”

Wayne nodded, rolling his eyes skyward. “I’ll make sure you’re allowed in here, no matter the time, alright?” he said after a bit and his gaze met Steve’s again. “You better make good on your plan to tell him, got it? I’ve had it up to here with his lovesick pining for you.”

“Wait, what—?” Steve started, completely baffled, but Wayne just groaned loudly as he stood up and stretched.

“Keep an eye on him, would you? I’m going for a smoke,” he said and then left the hospital room.

Once he was alone in the room, Steve looked at Eddie and his heart ached. He looked so small and frail, his face gaunt and white as a sheet. But he was breathing on his own and Steve would take that as a good sign. He allowed himself a small smirk.

“Lovesick pining, huh?” Steve asked the sleeping form on the bed as he reached into his backpack and pulled out the new battle vest and got to work.

[ NEXT ]

[ AO3 LINK ]

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[binaural-histolog]

Storytelling Is Too Effective

There's a podcast I listen to, If Books Could Kill. Every episode, they review a book -- usually popular science or psychology, but sometimes political -- and they poke holes at it. They go back to the original papers that the book cites, they cross reference claims made between chapters and point out inconsistencies, and they draw from other studies and theories to provide contrast and context. It is entertainment, but it's also an appeal to critical thought.

One great thing that the podcast does is to track down anecdotes back to the original newspaper articles, and then point out how the book misquotes or misconstrues the event to serve the narrative. It can be jaw-dropping to hear what some books do with their source material. And yet, this is believable. These books, and these stories, are believed.

But I'm only talking about popular science books that present studies and supporting anecdotes as the truth. There's another category of book, the books that present the argument purely as story.

Who Moved My Cheese is a popular book about workers who have to deal with organizational change, including layoffs and cost-cutting measures. It was famous at the time, and consists almost entirely of made up conversations between mice, detailing how the mice should think about these changes. The podcast takedown is brutal and recommended.

Part of the reason that the book is so effective is that it's entirely story. The mice say what they're told to say, and the arguments are set up to make the right mice look smart and the wrong mice look dumb. The book wants you to engage and believe the argument even though the support is entirely illusory or relies on social pressure. And people believed it.

I think there's a natural tendency for people to believe books when they are storytelling -- either as stories or narrative as dialogue. The mortar that holds storytelling together is belief, and belief by its nature is credulous. You are not invited to review the raw data of a story, or examine the statistics for data dredging. You can't reproduce the results in a double-blind experiment. Story is story: you either believe it or you don't.

And that made me wonder.

What would If Books Could Kill say about Frogs into Princes or My My Voice Will Go With You?

Frogs into Princes is a dialogue about NLP. It's supposedly a transcript from a seminar. It's super effective.

The dialogue based format is effective in part because it's off the cuff --it doesn't come with footnotes or cite references, because who does that in the middle of talking? No-one in the seminar calls them out or challenges them on where they got their results or their thinking. Bandler talks about a therapist repeatedly removing and putting back back a phobia in a single session. Terms like "transderivational search" are dropped in (even though the word "transderivational" is a linguistics term) and no-one blinks an eye. The concept of preferred representational systems (PRS) is introduced, which even Bandler revised as no longer considered an important component in 1986. The audience believes all of this. You are expected to believe all of this.

And yet, if you dig into NLP and Bandler more specifically you find that much of this doesn't actually work and PRS is invented from whole cloth, with no linguistic evidence behind it.

According to Weitzenhoffer, "the major weakness of Bandler and Grinder's linguistic analysis is that so much of it is built upon untested hypotheses and is supported by totally inadequate data."[24]

But the point isn't truth. The point of NLP is to sell NLP, and it does very well at that; the conferences are very successful and disturbing to attending journalists.

My Voice Will Go With You is slightly different. It is the teaching tales of Erickson, written by Sydney Rosen. Erickson presents a series of stories showing how he solved a patient's problems using hypnosis and metaphor. Erickson was a natural storyteller, and because of that, the books present him as a protagonist.

But if you look at Erickson as a whole, his methods and philosophy are not about truth -- Hilgard gives several examples. Erickson never cared about truth. He cared about belief.

His habit of utilization meant that he would not only utilize behavior to point out that they were going into trance. He would utilize any improvement in his patients lives to point out his successful intervention. He was clear that he would lie to his patients for the sake of the case, and it's pretty clear he was lying or exaggerating some of his cases. He projected an image, and his image was so effective that it meant people would uncritically repeat what he said and fail to check and verify his accounts.

Cardena even called out Erickson's approach.

To muddy the waters even more, why have not some of the followers of a therapist known to fabricate false past stories to achieve therapeutic goals wondered whether he used that same technique in his writing and teaching?

And the problem is, some of it appears not to work for anyone else.

The research reviewed simply does not support long-held beliefs by Erickson or those who practice Ericksonian approaches to therapy. [...] Although there are impressive and dramatic clinical anecdotes cited in the literature about Erickson and his work, there is no compelling need to invoke any sort of special curative processes active in Ericksonian approaches beyond those already documented as active in any form of effective psychotherapy (e.g., relationship, expectancies, construction of a compelling narrative, active client involvement). Unlike hypnosis as an adjunct to cognitive-behavioral therapy, it is not clear that hypnosis adds anything to this approach.

When indirect suggestions are tried in experimental hypnosis, they don't work as well as direct suggestions.

The best controlled studies provide no support for the superiority of indirect suggestions, and there are indications that direct suggestions are superior to indirect suggestions in terms of modifying subjects’ experience of hypnosis. Nevertheless, the overriding conclusion is that differences between a wide variety of suggestions are either nonexistent or trivial in nature. (p. 138)

The reason that people still believe in Erickson and in NLP is because the way that the books present the argument is through storytelling. Storytelling requires belief and inhibits critical thought. We are set up to believe: hook, line, and sinker.

[captain-price-unofficially]

RAW DEAL (Irvin, 1986)

[almeriamovies]

RIP Sergio Donati writer and actor, known for Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), Raw Deal (1986) and Duck, You Sucker! (1971). He died on 13 August 2024 in Mentana, Lazio, Italy.

[uttersorcery]

10 Horror films for Halloween

By David K Frampton

The Curse Of Frankenstein (Terrence Fisher 1957)

Hammer’s classic features a fine pair of performances from Chistopher Lee and Peter Cushing.

It also features the first time in cinema history to feature red blood. It’s so atmospheric and deep

And I love the way that Dr Frankestsein (Peter Cushing) becomes more and more evil as the film progresses yet somehow we still care about him. Classy early Hammer with tons of charm, atmosphere and darkness.

Les Yeux Sans Visage (Georges Franju 1960)

This French horror from the late 50s pioneers body horror. Beautifully shot and featuring some of the most haunting imagery of the era. There are some heart in mouth moments and a powerful performance my it’s cast…

Lake Mungo (Joel Anderson 2008)

This Australian horror flick might be the most terrifying movie I have ever seen…at least the most upsetting. But it is extremely well made and realised. A mockumentary with an edge it recounts the last days of a persons life. The gut wrenching finale is unforgettable and truly deeply scary.

Skinamirinck (Kyle Edward Ball 2022)

For true fear and originality try Skinamirink this film utilises atmosphere and tension to build a truly terrifying portrait of a young girl alone in her house. Too say anything more would spoil it but from a technical perspective this film uniquely creeps it’s way into your mind through showing and hiding key information leading to a disorientating and captivating stew of pure dread.

Raw (Julia Ducourno 2016)

Sometimes horror needs to be gut wrenching to truly have fun. And it doesn’t get much more gut wrenching than Raw. What makes this horror film so elemental is that this sort of pairs up as a coming of age tale as much as a cannibal horror. Beautifully shot and finely acted by Garance Marillier).

Jennifer’s Body (Karyn Kusama 2009)

Megan Fox arrived in this sensational witty and huge fun demon flick alongside Amanda Seyfried, writer Diablo Cody and director Karyn Kusama. The film deals with themes such as female sexuality, male gaze and the occult. It’s great fun, very bloody and somehow strangely moving.

From Beyond (Stuart Gordon 1986)

It’s always a pleasure to see some good old 80’s slime in a horror movie. This “slime classic” from Stuart Gordon is fun to watch, intense and woozy. When a scientist opens a portal to hell it is up to Jeffrey Combs to try and close it with disastrous results. This is a staple in the body horror diet as we witness flesh giving birth to flesh.

Audition (Takeshi Miike 1999)

Japan’s “Audition” is about as extreme as it gets as a film maker holds a fake audition to find a wife with terrible consequences. Takeshi Miike’s skill is to never let go of empathy for all of the characters leading to a finale that is both visceral and horrific aswell as heartbreaking. Essential horror.

Prevenge (Alice Lowe 2016)

If like me you think Alice Low is a genius then you’ll truly love her take on the slasher genre incredibly written and directed when she was pregnant. This movie contorts gender roles of men and women into new shapes as one nightmare situation bleeds into another. It’s dark…very dark but also shot with blackest humour. Stunning cinematography by Ryan Eddlestone.

Thanksgiving (Eli Roth 2023)

Eli Roth likes to make horror movies. He’s very good at them. And this is his best yet. My final entrance is a bit of fun. This slasher movie gets more and more crazy and gory as it progresses..almost a love letter to slasher movies the kills get more creative…and he keeps it in at a tight 90 minutes. It’s exhilarating, a little bit exploitative but the tension throughout is crafted immaculately.

[fetznerdeathrecords]

Possessed - Live at Balboa Theatre, January 1986

Death Metal from San Francisco, California, U.S.

One of the most influential metal bands ever, is without doubt Possessed. Didn’t they create an entire main genre in extreme metal? The Possessed demo ‘Death Metal’ from 1984 was ground breaking and led to a deal with Combat Records. Debut album ‘Seven Churches’ was released late 1985 and influenced many, if not all, extreme metal bands up till today. Live at Balboa Theatre, January 1986 was the gig they performed the ‘Seven Churches’ album. That night the bill was Exodus, Possessed, Dark Angel, DRI & Death Angel. All tracks are carefully restored and remastered by Achilleas Kalantzis (Vio Lence, Defiance, Varathron). Extensive liner notes / interview with Jeff Becerra. Rare, never before published pictures. Cover and booklet art by Thomas Pinheiro (Malevolent Creation, Defiance, Lobotomy). Official live album. No ultra fancy polished sound, raw as hell, the way early death / black metal was suppossed to sound, this was 1986!

Themes: Satanism, Occultism, Anti-Christianity, Murder, Death

1. The Exorcist 04:47 2. Pentagram 04:10 3. Satan's Curse 04:44 4. Holy Hell 04:43 5. Burning in Hell 03:28 6. Evil Warriors 04:13 7. Seven Churches 03:37 8. Death Metal 03:59

Release date: September 21st, 2024 via @vicrecords_official

[mystery-moose]

DEATH STRANDING (Feb 27th)

In my quest to write down thoughts about art this year, I recently completed Hideo Kojima’s Death Stranding for the first time! I had started it twice already, but stalled out both times because I got distracted or moved onto other things.

Kojima has always been a problematic fave of mine, but Death Stranding might be my problematic favoritest of his work.

The raw gameplay loop is as perfectly calibrated, engaging, and compelling as it was when I first played it back in 2019. It is, as Tim Rogers put it, the Gran Turismo of walking simulators, though I would probably put it more accurately as “the world’s best hiking and logistics simulator.” Trekking across Icelandic wastelands and haunted volcanic plains and up and down mountains is alternately so meditative and so tense that even after a cumulative hundred hours in my save file I was still doing optional deliveries just because I enjoy traversing the world. It’s so singular and unique in the thing it’s attempting to do, and in particular with the atmosphere it’s trying to cultivate, that I can say honestly that I’ve never played anything like it. And that’s a wild thing to say about a game with a big budget these days!

But that’s what you get with Kojima. Especially with Kojima these days, unfettered by corporate oversight or monetary concerns. He wants to communicate something, and by god he’s going to do that whether you or anyone likes it or not. That’s a big reason he’s gotten the reputation he has today. And we can argue about auteurship and how it’s bullshit in collaborative mediums all day (and that’s a fine argument to have) but it’s not like Kojima didn’t put in the hours -- the dude’s been making games since 1986, and been a project lead since ‘87. We can say he got lucky once, maybe twice, but we gotta say he’s worked for his pedigree at this point.

I mean, the man made an entire game about nothing but fetch quests, and he made it fun! What the fuck, right?

That’s to say nothing about the use of music, which introduced me to some tunes that still live on my phone! Or the stark, utilitarian-but-inventive mechanical design of Yoji Shinkawa. Or its story, rooted in absurdist silliness, Tarkovsky-esque surrealism, and bizarre metaphysics, bluntly hammering its central message home even as it weaves numerous other threads (heh) into its narrative through its use of visual symbolism, textual analysis, and iconography.

Of course the pacing is a nightmare, though -- so much of the story is backloaded in the final few hours of the game, including numerous revelations that would be better served earlier in the story. And his treatment of female characters, while much better here than Metal Gear Solid V, is... well that bar is beneath the floor, frankly. I do like the women of Death Stranding, in particular Fragile (yes that’s her name, every character is named like that) but the way the camera treats Fragile in one scene that would otherwise be really powerful, and the way Mama’s subplot goes and what Kojima’s even trying to gesture towards, and then the whole deal with Bridget and Amelie... it’s all just kind of a mess.

Which is basically the story of the story of Death Stranding, really! It’s a mess! A frequently fascinating, rarely insightful, occasionally quite powerful mess, but a mess all the same. Whether or not you can look past the stuff that doesn’t work to examine the stuff that does, or are equally interested in failures and fuckups as successes, determines whether you’ll enjoy the story here. That’s how Kojima rolls, though, has been since Metal Gear Solid 2, though that game probably remains his high point for thematic fascination, if not dialogue or character writing. (Including women! Seriously, he’s only been good at it like one time!)

I’ll say, too, that if you care little for story and want to run purely on vibes, then Death Stranding might very well be for you! The vibes here are totally unique and absolutely immaculate, particularly in the audio-visual department. There is nothing quite like when one of those Low Roar songs kicks in while you’re descending a mountain toward a new city, or Silent Poets coming in as you march across a blasted plain. And again, it all feels so personal; you are listening to Kojima’s personal mixtape, a set of bands he heard that he loved and which he associated with this game he was making, and getting that kind of truly personal touch from a big-budget experience is almost impossible to find in games.

Everything in Death Stranding, for better or for worse, is the product of one man’s mind, a snapshot of the things that move him, scare him, fascinate him, make him think and feel and wonder. And they’re all things he wants YOU to think about and feel and wonder. Some of them are stupid, for sure! Others are obvious or shallow. But more than anything, they’re all honest. Death Stranding is one of the most earnest, sincere artistic expressions I’ve seen in any big-budget media, and if that interests you at all (or you’re really into traversal mechanics in games) I’d absolutely recommend it.

Or if you like to point and laugh at the man who put a guy named “Die-Hardman” into his story. Rest assured that Kojima is absolutely laughing too.

[kaospheric]

Raw Deal (1986)

[thejacksmit]

First Take at LYIFF: The Way to Happiness - a delicatessen themed around film, taking its owner on a very personal journey

SYNOPSIS: Saül Birnbaum is a “hidden child”, separated from his parents at the age of 6 to escape the upcoming Shoah, sent by a Kindertransport abroad, from Vienna to Brussels. In 1986, Saül is on the road to resilience, he tries to reinvent his life, to re-enchant it. On the stage of the Délicatessen he owns, the 7th Art triumphs every day. With his protégé Joakin, a young Chilean director who fled Pinochet, they decide to write the story of Saül’s childhood and make a film of it. But love comes knocking on his door and confronts him with his past.

It is a common understanding that cinema has the power to change lives. This film, screened as the second feature of this year's Lytham International Film Festival, came in from Luxembourg from director Nicolas Steil - and while it is a heartfelt piece of filmmaking that has good intentions, based on the general audience response, and reading some of the Letterboxd comments, it feels like some elements may have been lost in translation.

English Language Subtitles available on this trailer - click the CC button to turn them on.

Steil uses a lot of the knowledge he gained making his first feature Réfractaire (The Undercover War as it is known in English territories, another World War 2 inspired piece) in 2009 and the many years of experience he's had in the film and TV production industry to turn in a relatively well paced 1 hour 52 minute feature, that gets a lot right, but in terms of the execution of a pretty heavy plot, does feel a bit of a mish-mash of ideas. Henri Rouanne-Rosenblatt adapts his own book very faithfully to the best of my knowledge, working with Michel Fessler, but the multiple stories ongoing at the same time probably didn't land as well with a British audience as well as it would've done elsewhere - there's the story of back in the war, then back to 1986, then back to the war, again, showing the TV influence of the director more than anything. It's shot well by Pierre Milon, and the original music from Kyan Bayani just about does the job for a film like this.

As for the cast, Simon Abkarian and Django Schrevens are two very likable leads, Pascale Arbillot plays the love interest (central to Abkarian's character Saul going on this journey to discover his past really well), Andre Jung provides comic relief following some of the heavier moments that the film deals with, and rounding out the cast is Eric Caravaca, Helena Noguerra, and Mathilda May. All things considered, the message of the film certainly landed even with it being a subtitled screening, but the general style of the film and how it does the story of 'finding the past while making a whole fictional movie about it' did take a bit of getting used to.

THE VERDICT

The Way to Happiness is a well made, poignant, and very raw tribute to not only what film can do for escapsim, but also what it can do to rediscover the past - I can see why the LYIFF panel selected it, especially as it followed a workshop (for which a lot of what was said in terms of personal films being the hardest to make), but crucially - it has some serious potential on the festival circuit.

RATING: 3.5/5