#time to '86' this joint

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[steddieas-shegoes]

AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

[loveshotzz]

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Melt With You

summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.

A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.

mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃

Steve was close. Too close.

His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.

The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close. 

The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.

When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin. 

“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”

The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?

Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.

“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”

There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.

“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.

“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”

He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his. 

“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.

Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there. 

“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.

It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck. 

The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.

Cozy. Too Cozy.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted. 

Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.

God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.

The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession. 

Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now. 

The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet. 

“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”

Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow. 

“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.

“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?” 

Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most. 

“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”

You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow. 

“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.

“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.

His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh. 

“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.

Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight. 

“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”

Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated. 

He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black. 

The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed. 

Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.

The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground. 

It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.

“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.

“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.

The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.

“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.” 

“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.

“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’

“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”

“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon. 

So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.

“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.

“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,

“Abso-“

His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.

“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.

What was going on here?

[cambion-companion]

“Just let me finish this and I swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.” (144) lets get down to bussines

Part 2 of "Spray of Blood"

Word count: 2724

reader gets lost trying to run back to King's Landing and Aemond, still splattered in blood, has to find her and bring her back to safety.

haha this is a joint effort it seems! Also I have wanted to write reader sitting on Aemond's face so thank you for #86

28. i’m just getting comfy

74. “Do you want me to stay?”

86. “don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs”

Aemond x wife!reader | smutty ending | 18+ only | fluff and a sprinkle of angst | Aemond isn't super happy lmao

You were lost.

Cursing, you stopped in the middle of the empty street, turning on the spot, surveying your unfamiliar surroundings.

"Fuck me sideways." You muttered, taking a moment to rub your aching temples.

You had indulged in too much spiced wine at the festival, muddling your already questionable orienteering skills.

"If the lady insists." A hissing voice accompanied a slender man emerging from the shadows of a stone building.

He held no weapon, seeming to think you easy prey as he strode forward, already unbuckling his trousers.

You still held the stone you had picked up when Aemond had confronted the men in the market, and so you collected your frayed nerves, taking careful aim as Aemond had taught you.

You threw the shard of brick, it struck true with a dull thud to the man's head. He went down like a sack of flour, hitting the damp cobblestones with a dull thud.

Shaking, you hurried on your way, in the direction you hoped the Red Keep was in. At least you were still walking uphill, that seemed to be a good sign.

After a few minutes of meandering, warm yellow light fell upon your face, a tavern in front of you that appeared cozy and welcoming. As you entered, you noticed a few other patrons, but the dining area and counter was mostly empty. A squat looking man was stacking dishware behind the bar counter as you took a seat.

He gave you a cursory glance with a raised eyebrow, you shifted to hide the fine fabric of your dress beneath the cloak you still wore. You pulled back your hood, wanting to be recognizable if Aemond passed the window searching for you.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked in a gruff baritone, seeming not to care what brought you to his establishment so long as you had gold.

"Do you have hot tea? Or something non-alcoholic?" You asked. "I just came from the fire festival and had a bit too much to drink there."

"Ah I see!" The man smiled, his ruddy cheeks reflecting the candlelight. "Yes, I can get you some green tea brewed up. Does wonders for a hangover."

"Thank you."

Minutes passed, turning to hours as you sat at the uncomfortable wooden table. You drank several mugs of steaming earthy tea, enjoying the way it warmed your body from the inside out.

"Are ye waiting for someone?" The bartender looked at you quizzically, clearly wondering why you were remaining for so long. All the other patrons had left for their homes by now.

"Yes, my husband."

"You're lost?"

You shifted uneasily in your seat, casting him a wary glance.

He raised his hands, a towel draped over his shoulder. "I mean you no harm miss, but if you'd like directions, I can give them." He glanced outside at the dark streets. "Though perhaps it best if you wait here, it's not safe for anyone to be wandering about right now."

"Where am I?"

He chuckled looked at you with a fatherly smile. "Outskirts of Flea Bottom."

You groaned.

"Not where you intended to be I expect. Not wearing a dress like that."

You shifted your cloak to cover yourself better.

"You have nothing to fear from me." The keeper reiterated. "I'll not cast you out till your husband comes to fetch you."

"Thank you." You lay your head upon your hands, staring glassy eyed out the window, praying to all the gods Aemond would find you.

You had fallen into a doze, jolted awake by the sound of the inn door slamming open and the exclamation of the barkeep still behind his counter.

Aemond, glorious with his shining hair and piercing violet eye, strode into the tavern, his gaze locked onto you.

"My-my prince! What an unexpected..." The tavern keeper trailed off as he watched Aemond walking purposefully toward you.

You rose from your seat, throwing your arms around Aemond's neck as he pulled you against him, his hands at your back, stroking soothingly as he kissed your ear.

You tried your best not to sob. "Aemond, I got lost."

"You're the wife of Aemond Targaryen?"

The two of you broke apart to turn to the front of the room, where the keeper was bowing low.

"He helped keep me safe." You interlocked your fingers with Aemond's.

Your husband stepped up to the rough wood counter, depositing a bag of clinking coins onto its surface. "You have my gratitude."

The man continued to bow, averting his gaze. Aemond made a soft "hmm" in the back of his throat, guiding you out of the warm room into the cool night air.

You didn't get far before he pulled you to a stop, his taut face illuminated silver in the moonlight. "I've been searching for you for hours, Y/N."

"I-"

He held up a hand to stop you from speaking. "You were not in our rooms. So, I returned to the square as quickly as I could, asking anyone still outside if they had seen you."

You looked down at your feet guiltily as Aemond continued.

"Imagine my surprise when I find a man collapsed upon the ground, a stone beside him and a lump on his forehead."

"He...had ill intentions." You whispered, still studying your shoes.

"Hmm. A shame I left him alive then." Aemond's fingers hooked under your chin, pulling your face to look up at him. "However, that is how I found you sitting in that tavern."

You slowly moved forward, tentatively wrapping your arms around Aemond's waist. You could tell how worn and anxious he was, specks of blood still upon his tunic from the men he'd dispatched earlier that evening.

"Aemond, I'm sorry for getting lost. I...was panicking and a little drunk." You smiled weakly as his face softened, his lilac eye roving your features as you rubbed small circles to the small of his back.

"I had intended this to be a relaxing evening of fun." Aemond said, giving a short laugh of derision. He cupped your face in his hands. You noticed they shook slightly. "I was beside myself with worry, Y/N." He brushed his soft lips to yours gently. "This is not a place for a woman to wander alone."

"You have me safe now, Aemond."

"And safe is where I will keep you."

He kissed you firmly, slanting his mouth over yours, his fingers tangling in your hair as you made a soft noise against him. In the tension of his body against your own you felt how worked up he was from the events of the night, the intensity with which he kissed you promised bruised lips in the morning.

“If we weren’t in public right now I'd have my head between your legs."

"Aemond." You whispered, shocked, as you checked over your shoulder for anyone listening. The streets were luckily empty, though several windows were wide open.

"Come." The prince grasped your hand firmly in his and began leading you in the correct direction of the Red Keep.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the welcome sight of your chambers, lit with the orange glow of a blazing fire in the hearth that you immediately crossed to stand before, warming your hands.

Your large, clawed bathtub sat full of steaming water in the middle of the room.

Aemond came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I had the servants draw a bath for your return, we are fortunate it seems to still be hot."

You felt him beginning to loosen the ties of your dress. "Do you want me to stay?" He asked, nuzzling into your neck. "I'd understand if you need to be alone. It has been a...difficult evening."

"Please stay, Aemond. I need you with me, especially right now."

He kissed your neck and resumed undoing your dress. You smiled to yourself at his evident eagerness to see you laid bare before him.

The fabric of your dress and undergarments pooled around your feet, you leaned into Aemond's warm touch as he fondled the curves of your ass and hips with one hand, his other reaching around to stroke at your breasts.

You turned to him, allowing his gaze to roam your firelit body. "You are still covered in blood, my lord husband." Your wandering fingers began undoing the clasps of his own clothing, shedding each garment with tender care until he was as naked as you, his thick member already standing at attention.

You smiled coyly at him, allowing him to support your balance as you stepped into the hot water of the bath. You sank down into the silken water, scooting forward enough for Aemond to take his place behind you.

You pressed your back against him, your hands running along his legs as they caged your body, his arms wrapping around your torso.

"I'm just getting comfy." You murmured, leaning back so that your head rested against Aemond's chest, looking up at his adoring gaze.

He had removed his eyepatch, the sapphire gemstone glittering dazzlingly by the reflection of firelight against the water that now lapped against the edges of the wooden tub.

The two of you rested like this together, rubbing each other down with soap and wash cloths. You took your time cleansing Aemond's skin, feeling the knots in his tense muscles and kneading them loose, his eye fluttered shut at your loving attentions.

Only when the water had cooled and the two of you began to shiver, did you exit the bath, helping each other towel down until you were relatively dry. Aemond grabbed your waist, pulling you in for another scorching kiss, one of many he'd bestowed upon you that night.

"Lay on the bed for me."

You obeyed, perhaps misinterpreting his meaning as you wrapped yourself in your nightrobe before getting comfortable in bed. You watched Aemond from your cocoon of blankets as he busied himself trying to get the stains out of his tunic and undershirt.

"Aemond..." You called quietly, trying to entice him over with the lilt of your voice.

"The blood has set into the fabric long enough, Y/N. Give me a moment to try and lift it."

"Aemond." You wiggled beneath the covers, seeking to draw his gaze.

“Just let me finish this and I swear I'll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

"If you don't come over here now, I'm going to start touching myself."

You knew just what to threaten.

With a growl, Aemond threw down his ruined shirt upon the sofa, striding to the bed and throwing the blankets off your body. "Take that off." His dilated eye took in your tantalizing curves wrapped up in your fluffy nightrobe.

"I'm cold."

"Do not tease me anymore this eve." Aemond crawled over your prone form, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip. "You heard me. Take. It. Off."

You undid the tie around your waist, shifting the fabric off, exposing yourself once more to your husband's eager touch. His fingers rolled your pebbling nipples, tugging at your flesh, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as you arched into him.

"Already so wet for me." Aemond murmured against your lips, his hand cupping your sex, feeling between your slick folds.

You gasped at the feeling of him exploring you. In a fluid motion, you rolled your entwined bodies over, shifting to sit on his torso, looking down at Aemond's face, his curved lips parted in surprise.

"I want to be on top." You could barely speak, so entranced you were at the sight of him laid beneath you, his silver hair spread out atop the pillows. "Let me do this, please."

You rocked your hips, feeling his hard arousal beneath you as you stroked your vulva along Aemond's shaft. His eyelid fluttered at the sensation, his hands rising to grip your hips as you lost yourself in the feeling of him.

"Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

Your mouth parted, Aemond tugged you a little forward by his grip on your hips. "Are-are you sure I won't suffocate you?"

Aemond laughed. "If you do, I couldn't think of a better way to go."

Heat pooled in your belly as you scooted forward, bracing your hands against the bedframe as you hovered on your knees over Aemond's face. "You're sure?"

"Y/N."

Aemond rose just enough to tease your entrance with his nose, nuzzling against your swollen clit. You gasped, lowered yourself rather gracelessly onto his angular face.

You quivered, feeling Aemond's tongue working against you as you rocked gently against him. His chin, his nose all pressed against your most sensitive parts. The wet sound of him lapping up your essence filled the darkened room.

"Oh Aemond." You gripped the bedframe tighter, making sure to not actually suffocate your husband with your cunt no matter how he tried to pull you more against his searching mouth, his fingers pressing deep against the flesh of your thighs.

He grunted, the vibration of his voice causing you to clench around the tip of his tongue as he fucked it into you. His nose continued pressing and rubbing against your clit, Aemond moving his whole face with your movements as you began to grind down on him, losing your self control.

His name spilled from your panting mouth, your climax rushing over you like waves upon the sea cliffs. Aemond drank you down eagerly, his tongue lapping you up as though you tasted of the finest wine. You rode out your orgasm on his face, your legs shaking as you lifted yourself off him, collapsing to the mattress as your husband rolled over you once more. His hair was a mess, his lips and chin soaked from your juices. You bit your bottom lip at the lewd sight, his eye tracking the movement.

Aemond kissed you, more gently than you had anticipated, his tongue searching your mouth, allowing you to taste your own release as he lined his cock to your entrance. You gripped the back of his head, gasping against him as he sunk slowly into you. Aemond's breath filled your lungs as his cock stretched you out deliciously, filling you until he was fully seated within your still quivering walls.

Aemond broke your kiss, pulling away enough to watch your face as he began rutting into you. His gentleness gave way to a rougher, more desperate pace, his cock brushing your cervix with every punishing stroke. You clung to him, your legs rising instinctively to allow him deeper access.

"Y/N." Aemond breathed your name like a prayer, his chest still flush against your own as he nibbled the shell of your ear. "I can feel you tightening around me." You cried out as he increased his pace still more, fucking you deep into the mattress. "I need you to come. Show me you're mine." His cock twitched inside you. "Mine alone to claim."

"I am yours, Aemond." You felt your second orgasm of the night begin to rush through your body, your spasming quim already beginning to milk his member. "Forever yours."

Your name, so sweet on Aemond's tongue, filled the night air, mingling with your wordless moans of ecstasy as your husband spilled his hot seed within your clenching cunt. He pushed himself as deep into you as he could, remaining rooted there until you had both come down from the high of your climax.

Your legs were shaking in earnest now, Aemond reluctantly pulled away, his cum spilling out of you onto the now ruined bedsheets. Exhausted, satiated, and heedless of the mess you'd made, Aemond pulled you against him, encasing you in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you made a pillow of his chest, his legs still tangled with your own.

Sleep took you quickly, a lock of Aemond's silken hair wrapped around your forefinger as you had a habit of doing when seeking comfort.

Aemond lay awake for a long while after you had drifted off, his mind still alive with the fear and rage that had consumed him mere hours before. Bedding you had taken the edge off, however the many gruesome possibilities of what could have happened remained unbidden and unwelcome.

He held you tighter against his lithe body, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of your chest on his, the light snores emitting from your slack mouth. Eventually exhaustion overtook Aemond, his eye falling closed, his lips still pressed to your head even in sleep.

[riality-check]

for the mini fic thing! 17 with Steve & Eddie? i love your drabbles!!

This is exceptionally late, and I'm slightly adjusting the prompt, but here you go!

17. "Things I wish you hadn't said"

"You know you gave me the nickname, right?" Eddie says.

He does that a lot, Steve has learned. Starts conversations in ways that sound like the middle of them. It's one thing among many he's noticed about Eddie, since March '86.

"What?" he says, half to make sure he heard him right, half because he's a little slow from the joint they've been passing back and forth.

"The Freak," Eddie explains. He says it like he's talking about the weather and takes another drag of the joint before he passes it back to Steve. "You regretted it right after you said it. Well, right after Carol shouted it loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear. Could see it right on your face."

Steve remembers that day. His sophomore year, so Eddie's junior. Daniel McCain had gone up to Eddie, angry as anything about something Steve just had to know about.

He's glad he's not that guy anymore.

"Do you know why he came up to me? Danny?"

"No," Steve says. He interrupted that would-be conversation before he could hear any of it. He had to make himself the star of the show, all the time.

A sophomore, and already king.

He was such a prick.

He passes the joint back to Eddie without taking another drag.

"Do you remember my nose being broken?"

Steve has a flash of a memory, of a younger Eddie with hair curling just under his chin, bandages on his bruised face.

He nods.

"I kissed him the day before," Eddie says. He extinguishes the joint in favor of picking at his fingernails instead. "He didn't take too kindly to it."

Oh, shit.

"And you asked him what he had to talk to The Freak about."

For probably the hundredth time in his life, Steve hates the person he used to be. Because not only did he give Eddie the nickname that stuck with him all through the rest of his high school career, not only did he add insult to literal injury, but Steve couldn't even remember this particular cruelty in a sea of cruelties.

He wants to go back in time and shake that kid by the shoulders until his head's back on straight.

"I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't said that," he says, and it doesn't sound like nearly enough.

Eddie waves him off. "Can't go back. Besides, if you didn't say it, someone else would have. Probably me, to be honest."

Steve leans back, propping himself up on his elbows on Eddie's bed. He looks up at Eddie, sitting near his nightstand, cross-legged and still in a way that he never is when he's sober. The way he's backlit makes his hair seem like a gold halo, makes every stark detail of his silhouette stand out in a way that keeps Steve from looking away.

Not that he wants to.

He doesn't think that logic holds up. It's not worth thinking about "what-ifs," but he can't help it. He can't help the thought that if he had watched his mouth for once in his life, Eddie wouldn't have been tormented with that particular phrase.

Eddie doesn't seem to resent him for it, though. Robin always says that no one is as hard on Steve as he is, and this seems to line up with that.

Still.

"If you're not mad about it, then why-"

"I couldn't think of a better way to tell you I like boys," Eddie blurts.

Oh.

Steve has had plenty of people interested in him. He knows how to flirt back, even when they're as awkward as Eddie is, eyes burning a hole through his mattress.

It's not often that he's interested back. Really interested back.

Huh.

Guess I like men, he thinks to himself, and while thinking can wait for the morning, when he's sober, he knows that what he feels isn't going to fade along with the high.

And he knows exactly which moves to pull.

He sits up and moves a little closer to Eddie.

"Why do I need to know that?" he teases.

Eddie's head snaps up. He studies Steve's face with slightly reddened eyes, and when he finds, or doesn't find, what he's looking for, he relaxes. "Because I like you."

"You gonna do anything about it?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, leaning closer. "I'm gonna kiss you, and I hope you won't bre-"

Steve runs out of patience. He grabs Eddie's face with both hands and pulls him in.

It's a good kiss. Definitely not one worth punching over.

"You asshole!" Eddie laughs when they break apart. "You didn't let me finish my line!"

"Are you mad about it?"

"A little!"

"Too mad to kiss me again?"

Eddie pauses, grabs Steve's face, and kisses him fiercely.

Something tells Steve the answer to that last question is a resounding, "Not at all."

Prompts here.

[livwritesstuff]

The first pair of shoes Eddie purchased for himself when he started rebuilding the life he’d lost when his trailer was destroyed was a pair of Doc Martens.

They were new (well, not new – he’d still thrifted them, but they were barely worn, probably surrendered by some yuppie who liked the style but couldn’t handle the pain of breaking them in) and big and black and heavy with steel toes and thick woven laces.

Those boots went everywhere with him – navigating those first few years of recovering from all the trauma he’d suffered in ‘86, finally leaving Hawkins in 1990, his move to Washington in ’94 to live with Steve while he finished out his psych program, their joint move to Boston a couple years later, his first book release in ‘95 and his second in ‘99, not to mention all the countless big and small adventures that filled in all those gaps.

When Eddie and Steve’s daughter Moe was born in 2001, Eddie temporarily retired the boots.

There was a period during those first few years of her life when she was both very small and always underfoot, a combination that meant concerns about tripping on her were high enough without Eddie adding steel-toed boots larger than his kid into the mix.

So for a while, the boots sat on the floor in his and Steve’s closet collecting dust.

Then Moe got a little bit older and the boots started collecting other things.

“Ed, come look at this,” Steve snickers.

He’s in their closet, trying to tackle the cataclysmic mess that has accumulated over the last year and a half, because trivial things like cleaning had kind of taken the backseat the second they met Moe – as they should; Eddie maintains that there is literally nothing he’d rather do than spend time with his daughter, bar none. Alas she does need to nap sometimes, and he supposes that’s when all the other shit gets done.

He joins Steve in the closet to see that he's holding one of Eddie's Docs.

“Look what Moe did,” Steve continues, holding out the boot.

Eddie takes it, immediately noticing that it’s even heavier than usual. He peers inside to see that it’s filled to the brim with stuff – a small wooden car, a travel deodorant from his last trip to New York for work, a pair of socks, sunglasses, several loose bandaids, one of Steve’s combs, a roll of Smarties (it’s a wonder she didn’t eat them), a veritable cache of treasures in the eyes of their eighteen-month-old. 

The other boot is pretty much exactly the same.

“Oh my god,” Eddie beams, “She’s fucking incredible.”

“She’s inheriting your raccoon behavior," Steve replies with a wicked grin.

“Alright.”

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Zombie Stomp

Prologue: Fade To Black

I’m an attention whore, so any thoughts from anyone are greatly appreciated :)

Ao3 Link

Eddie moves his body awkwardly to his Uncle’s old boombox. His palms sweat as his fingers slide over the buttons, a soft clicking noise leaving when he presses down.

Behind him, on his bed was one of the first breathtaking boys he’s seen in a while. Eddie’s standards may be low as Robert was the new line cook at Benny’s. Eddie couldn’t be picky. He was a gay man in Hawkins, Indiana. It wasn’t every day you saw an out-and-proud queer walking down the street. Or have one that isn’t out in your bed possibly leaving a grease stain on your mattress and your record.

The Gays flocked out of Hawkin’s faster than they came. Eddie would too if his Uncle didn’t live here.

Uncle Wayne was currently on an overnight shift, thank god. The stars seemed to be aligning for Eddie to get laid, finally. At twenty he was going to lose his virginity. Thank Fuck. ‘86 was going to be his year. He was sure of it.

Turning away from the box he starts to go through his cassettes. In the movies, they normally had music playing in the background. Even in the limited amount of porn Eddie’s seen, there was some tune on.

With that knowledge, Eddie doesn’t think he has a good cassette for this setting. That was a strange realization for him as his music normally fit everything he did. So unless Robert could get it up to Black Sabbath he was out of luck in the music department.

“You like Black Sabbath?” Eddie asks, his voice scratchy from nerves.

Eddie was sure he was going to somehow fuck this up like everything else he did. He turns his body at a slight angle to look at Robert, trying to distract himself from overthinking.

The other man was tilting his head around inspecting his room. Eddie rarely had anyone in here. He was nervous the mess would disgust Robert.

“Uh… who’s that?” Robert asks in a tone that almost turns Eddie off.

Eddie bites his tongue, holding back a sassy remark. He didn’t want to be a dick to what may be his only opportunity with another man. This was his shot to lose his virginity before he was legally able to enter a gay bar. He wanted a little experience under his belt before he had anything else underneath him.

“Um- It’s a uh…” Eddie’s voice cracks. He clears his throat before beginning again. “It’s a band from the seventies. You may have heard of the lead singer. Ozzy Osbourne? That guy who bit a bat’s head off,” Eddie rambles.

“Never heard of her,” Robert admits, beginning to chew on his gum obnoxiously. Eddies suspicions that the other wasn’t listening to him were proven correct.

The longer Eddie spent time with Robert the more annoyed he got. The guy didn’t seem all that interested in Eddie. Not like he had been at the restaurant.

“Hey man, I don’t care what you put on. It’s not like I’m listening to it anyway,” He snorts slightly.

Eddie was starting to think that Robert might be one of the most unattractive men he’s ever met.

“Yeah, alright- alright, yeah, no. No music should be fine then. Silence is probably better than what I have here.” He jokes, cringing at himself feeling like he just disrespected the metal gods. He just wanted to break the awkward tension that was slowly beginning to fall over them.

Eddie moves away from his cassettes, still fidgety and unable to stand put. He knows his nerves made the antsy feeling that never let him sit still worse. Normally he would smoke a joint, but his gut told him that he shouldn’t get high right now. Not with this man who could barely pay attention long enough to get Ozzy’s pronouns right.

Robert responds with a soft grunting noise. Eddie’s body tenses up. He was slowly starting to think that Robert didn’t want to be here. It had been his idea in the first place, now he was acting like Eddie’s pulling his teeth.

“Robert, do you even-” Eddie starts as Robert speaks.

“Why don’t we get this show on the road, huh?” Robert hums out, unbothered that he interrupted Eddie. He doesn’t apologize or wait to hear what Eddie has to say.

That doesn’t sit well with Eddie. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit he would stop this entire thing. He couldn’t. Not while Robert was giving him that look. The same one that led them here after closing Benny’s, and was beginning to spark Eddie’s interest again. Despite all the warning signs pointing to a terrible first time.

The other man begins to pat his lap suggestively. Eddie’s unsure whether he was feeling uncomfortable, or realizing this was all a phase. He did know he wasn’t enjoying himself like he thought he would. He also knew that the voice telling him to get this over with was the devil on his shoulder. He pictured a little demonic queer on his right and a perfectly straight angel on his left.

He moves forward, carefully placing himself in Robert’s lap. He begins to chuckle awkwardly as he realizes he doesn’t know what to do with his limbs, expecting instruction. Instead, Robert moves forward beginning to mess with Eddie’s belt silently. The only noise was the gentle clinking from Robert struggling to get his belt undone.

This is when Eddie realizes that he isn’t hard. He had been earlier when Robert pulled him behind his van to whisper about what he wanted to do to him. Now, his Dick wasn’t responding and Eddie doesn’t think it could be brought back to life. Not even with mouth-to-mouth.

Robert doesn’t seem to be bothered by this, he just begins to kiss up Eddie’s neck. Eddie scrunches his nose up in disgust at how sloppy the other was being. Plus he didn’t see Robert pull his gum out. That made Eddie uncomfortable, worried that the other might get gum in his hair.

After a moment of hyping himself up, Eddie opens his mouth to speak. Robert interrupts him again.

“Gotta relax baby.” A soft chuckle tickles Eddie’s neck before Eddie begins to feel the other’s tongue.

Ok, Eddie thinks he might throw up.

He pushes back with the other still stuck to his neck like a leech. As if he was trying to suck the fruitiness out of Eddie, he was currently succeeding. Not in a good way.

Eddie’s about to rip Robert a new one or consider setting him on fire when his door flies open.

“Eddie pack your shit we-” His Uncle was now in his doorway looking distressed.

Eddie freezes in Robert’s lap. He's starting to believe that God put a curse on him. First, he’s a gay man trapped in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Second, he couldn’t even find a decent gay to fuck around with. To top it all off his Uncle, who was supposed to be at work, was currently standing in his doorway seeing him in all his faggot glory.

Eddie’s eyes are wide. His heart beats fast in his chest, possibly skipping a few. He can’t bring himself to move from Robert. It was like his limbs were frozen.

Robert on the other hand doesn’t waste a second. He shoves Eddie onto his ass and to the floor. He buckles his belt, which Eddie didn’t realize was undone, before frantically pushing past Wayne. The front door softly shuts behind him.

Wayne doesn’t break eye contact. Eddie’s ears begin to ring. His head went light as his hands shook. All he was able to process was, “...Pack your shit…”

Eddie Munson was getting kicked out, again. You would think he would be a pro at this. But no, he sat there on his ass having a panic attack.

Only if his father could see him now. Probably would call him a little bitch like he had when he kicked Eddie out.

His body goes on autopilot, suddenly standing up and picking clothes off the floor. Eddie doesn’t know when he grabbed his duffle bag, the one he saved for this exact purpose, but he was now stuffing clothes inside it.

Eddie had always expected this to happen when Wayne found out. What he didn’t predict was how hurt he was going to feel. He promised himself after his father that he wasn’t going to let anyone see him like this ever again. Yet here he was, crying like a little bitch.

Eddie could barely feel the tears running down his face. Nor did he feel Wayne’s hands move to his shoulders until they lightly squeezed. A feeble attempt to grab Eddie’s attention.

“Eddie,” Wayne’s voice was soft. Whatever he came in so distressed about was forgotten for just a second.

Eddie’s shoulders tense, and he clenches his jaw preparing to hear his Uncle become a bigot right behind him. His hands stopped doing what they were doing. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands in hopes that it hurts more than this.

He doesn’t turn his head around, not wanting a black eye if that's what Wayne wants to give him. His snot rolls down his face and pools above his lip. He sniffles loudly, wiping the snot from his face into his sleeve.

Eddie was a wet mess. Not in the way he had expected or wanted.

“I- Uh,” Wayne pauses to clear his throat. “I love you, Eds.” The words come out awkwardly and foreign.

Eddie flinches expecting to hear something else. Furrowing his eyebrows confused he turns his head to look at his Uncle. Within the time he has lived in this trailer, Wayne has never spoken those words to him. They knew they loved each other. It was left unspoken and in a grey area, they avoided.

“You.. you what?” Eddie asks stunned. His eyes were wide and puffy as he blinked slowly, feeling as if he was hallucinating. Was this entire scenario just him having a psychotic break? Or was he having a sick nightmare in some conversion camp right now?

“I love you, Eddie,” Wayne speaks, his voice growing more confident as he says it. “And I don’t care who you’re uh,” He pauses awkwardly.

“Who yer romantically involved with. Just as long as you wrap it, and I don’t hear you doing your thing.” Wayne coughs a little. His face was going a light pink, the color reaching to the top of his head.

“You don’t care that I’m a faggot?” Eddie asks in disbelief. “A raging homo, a queer, a fairy, a…” he begins to ramble out. He wants it to be clear what he is to his Uncle. He may have not enjoyed Robert like he had thought he would, but he still got pretty worked up over Ozzy’s chest hair. There was fruitiness a foot and inside Eddie.

“Boy,” Wayne’s voice raises to what Eddie thought it would when he first found him. “If I ever hear you talk about yourself like that ever again, I’ll - I’ll make sure to - well I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll make sure you won’t be talking like that ever again.” Wayne huffs out.

A determination in his eye that Eddie hasn’t seen since he first moved in. Wayne had sat him down all of those years ago. Looked him in the eye like he was now and told him he was never going back to his father. Not if he was still breathing and around to have any say about it.

Eddie opens his mouth, feeling like a goldfish trapped in a bowl. Nowhere to go or hide.

“Now, you do need to pack your shit,” Wayne says seriously. “That thing making people turn on each other is in Hawkins. And people already give you enough shit for DnD. Don’t need you getting eaten alive just because they think you’re the devil reincarnated.”

Wayne pulls his hands off Eddie’s shoulders. Then moves calmly to his bedroom door, though something is still off with him. As if he knew something Eddie didn’t.

Eddie just nods his head dumbly, not questioning it. He didn’t want to push the limited amount of luck he had. He was grateful that he wasn’t covered in bruises and on the side of the road again.

****

The man’s face had been covered in so much blood that there was no way of identifying him. Eddie had been carrying the last of their packed bags out to his van when he saw him. The man walked around like it was normal to be covered in blood, nothing frantic in the way he moved. That was the first alarm bell that should have gone off to Eddie.

Eddie was too focused on trying to recognize who it was, so he could ask him if he was alright. It could be Jim, from two trailers down; a man who used to babysit Eddie. Though going off from the limited amount of hair it was more likely George, a middle aged man who was always walking his dogs Or Liam, a police officer that lived closer to the entrance of the trailer park and once busted Eddie for dealing.

Eddie shakily breathes, feeling as if his chest was going to explode. His ears were ringing, his head was foggy and for some reason all he could see were the man’s eyes. They were bloodshot, as if he had or was still crying. His eyes were wide, afraid of something. Of what Eddie hadn’t known. The red was slowly beginning to leak into the man’s iris. Eddie wondered how he was able to see.

Eddie felt his bones ache, reminded of the sound the man’s jaw had made. The loud cracking noise as if it was dislocating itself. The bottom jaw had moved and fell open, the man having no control of it. Though at the same time it looked like he was trying to speak. His face pinched up as a pained groan left him.

From where Eddie stood he could see bits of meat stuck in between the man's teeth as his mouth opened further. Blood slowly dripped down his chin. Instead of words a soft clicking noise came out. Eddie was slowly starting to panic. There was something off about this man. It didn’t seem like he was trying to come over to recieve help.

“Eddie.”

The more Eddie watched him, the more suspicious the other was becoming. From how he walked something didn’t seem right, as if the man hadn’t been a human a day in his life.

Eddie doesn’t believe in skinwalkers. He’s heard a tale or two from his uncle warning him how people could be possessed by one but he never believed him. Now, watching this man he can’t help but believe that this may be a skinwalker. It was irrational and not logical but there was nothing rational with how this man walked.

The bones in his legs were visibly sliding through his skin. The more Eddie observed that’s when he catches the huge chunk of meat slowly sliding behind him. How he hadn’t noticed sooner was odd.

“Boy,”

How could anyone not notice that they were leaving a bloody snail trail behind them? What was scarier than the leg was the noises he made.

The more he moves the louder the groans become. Each time the man tilted his head a soft clicking noise would follow and his eyes would begin to squint.

Eddie took a step back from the van, hearing the trailer door opening with a loud creak as this man or thing came towards him.

“Eddie!”

Eddie could hear his Uncle yelling as the man started to stumble forward faster. As if he was finally processing Eddie was there.

A sudden bang echoed in the trailer park. Eddie doesn’t get enough time to even process that his Uncle was the one who shot the man thing before the loud ringing began. It’s so loud it makes his eyes go foggy and he isn’t even sure he’s really in the trailer park anymore, or if he even had been. Time was moving slowly and then fast forwarding on repeat.

It seems like forever before Eddie’s eyes slowly begin to focus again. The ringing stops. The only sound he could hear was loud breathing. He barely recognizes that it was coming from him.

“Ed’s?” Wayne was leaning over the van. His hand was awkwardly floating an inch above Eddie’s shoulder as if he were afraid to touch him.

Eddie blinks confused. He wasn’t sure what just happened or how he got in the passenger of the van. He had been outside of their trailer just a second ago. Watching as someone’s head gets blown off by Wayne’s shotgun.

He glances around, looking out the window, trying to place where he was.

They were now pulled to the side of the road, right in front of the ‘leaving Hawkins’ sign. It was as if Eddie lost a portion of time. Where it went he was unsure. What he did know was he needed to get out of this van.

Before his Uncle could stop him he’s standing on the side of the road. Dropping to his knees, not caring how bad the pavement hurt. Crouching forward he aims for the grass before he begins to throw up. Tears fell down his face as his throat began to burn. It was painful enough that he had to cough in between small breaks, before he was hurling more.

He lets out a pathetic whine before he vomits each time. Feeling his hair being pulled back with a slight tug. A hand, which he assumes is Wayne’s, begins to rub gently at the knots of his now tense shoulders.

When he’s finished he’s pretty worn out. He could barely keep his eyes open. He leans back, scrunching his nose up before he’s moving to stand. Stumbling into Wayne, before pushing himself away from the other.

He opens his mouth, his hair falling back down his shoulders. Eddie’s looking at his Uncle and he doesn’t know what to say. He just watched his Uncle kill someone and he doesn’t know how to react.

“Wayne,” Eddie’s voice cracks. Tears were rolling down his face. He was having some difficulty breathing or getting words out.

Trying to compose himself he takes a deep shaky breath that hurts his chest.

“You killed him.”

“Eddie-” Wayne starts, hands moving in the air in an ‘Everything is alright’ gesture. He tries to speak but Eddie doesn’t let him.

“No Wayne, you killed that man. What if he had children?” Eddie hisses out. Stumbling back a little more. He felt drunk with how bad his balance was.

“Kid, will you listen to me.” Wayne pleads, “That wasn’t no man anymore. You’ve heard the radio talking about people going nuts. How they’re biting chunks out of people.”

Eddie listens. He has no choice but to. He thinks back to that guy's mouth. How it was covered in blood, mixed with fresh and dried. The way he barely reacted to a piece of his leg dragging behind him. Not only that but for a split moment Eddie had thought the man was a skinwalker. Something that Eddie has been arguing wasn’t real to his uncle for years.

Everything Wayne was bringing up was making since, as Eddie did hear those news reports. Even heard stories from kids in school.

Eddie’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. His mouth opens, trying to make a small attempt before it closes. A moment of uncertainty falls over the two of them before Eddie decides he believes his Uncle.

He moves forward without thinking, not afraid to bury himself in his Uncle's arms. Both of them have tears rolling down their faces. Neither of them would ever mention it. Instead, Eddie focuses on the soft, warm breaths that tickle the top of his head. How his arms wrapped tightly around Wayne’s middle. The way Wayne returns the hug, holding Eddie tightly as if he were afraid Eddie was going to disappear.

Eddie squeezes the other gently, as a reminder that he was there and very much real. When they finally separate Eddie looks his Uncle in the eyes. He may not know much right now, but does know he can’t ever lose Wayne. No matter what.

[hippiepowrs]

weed smoking boyfriend

eddie munson x gn!reader

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared i had a lot going on but i could not miss this special day so here's a lil blurb for all who celebrate. idk if 420 was popularized by 86/87 but since it originated in 71 we're going to pretend, okay???

warnings: weed. a lot of weed smoking. r and eddie both very very stoned. fluff. established relationship. making out but nothing bad.

wc: 562

Eddie isn’t exactly a holiday guy. Sure, he likes a good day off from school or work, but he doesn’t love the capitalistic ideals that seeped their way into every holiday that could’ve been enjoyable to him. 

But Eddie will never, ever give up an excuse to get stoned off his ass. 

He’s lucky that Wayne will be out all day. Even if that man put up with a lot, Eddie would probably get his ass beat for hotboxing the entire fucking trailer. 

The two of you are on his bed. Eddie, sat against the headboard, and you on the foot of the bed, laying on your stomach. A foggy haze covers the entire room, a result of the nausea-inducing amount of weed the two of you have smoked. You went between joints and his bong, just to have some variety. 

Now, both of you lay there, absolutely blasted out of your minds, barely able to conjure up a single thought. 

“Baby,” he giggles, “do you think that, like,” he pauses, “I don’t know.” 

Thinking that he’s the pinnacle of comedy, you silently laugh so hard that tears form in the corners of your eyes. 

“Come here.” He puts out grabby hands towards you, urging you to lay next to him. 

Obliging his request, you crawl your way up the bed and lay your head right next to his, staring right into his sleepy eyes. 

“Your eyes are, like, so brown.” You say in awe, quickly devolving into yet another fit of giggles. 

“Yours are, like, uh, they’re really pretty?” He says, seemingly unsure of his words in his inflection. The goofy grin plastered on his face speaks differently, telling you he is totally infatuated with the way your eyes looked, looking at his own. 

His eyes dart down to your lips, signaling to you that he wants to kiss you—which you’re able to pick up on, no matter how high you are. 

The kiss is gentle, yet sloppy, the two of you so uncoordinated that spit is getting all over your faces. Eddie’s hands quickly find their place around your waist, pulling you on top of him as you begin to make out. 

Every touch feels like heaven. Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp, which causes Eddie to let out the most pathetic of moans you’ve ever heard in your life. 

“Mmm, love you.” He mumbles into the kiss, the words so slurred they can barely be made out. 

“Love you more.” You murmur back. Drowsiness begins to take over for the two of you, and the draw of sleep doesn’t take long to cause you two to pass out, lips still smushed against each other’s faces. 

The morning light comes in no time, shining through the curtains and directly onto your faces. Your drool is sticky on Eddie’s chin, still laying exactly how you fell asleep. 

Lifting your head, you wipe your chin in confusion. 

“Jesus Christ, babe, what the fuck happened last night?” You ask, still a little giggly from the pure volume you smoked. 

“Hmm?” He tries to act like he knows exactly what’s going on, but is too asleep to comprehend your words immediately. 

“Oh.” His fingers touch his chin, which is covered in mostly dry, but some wet, spit. “A lot of fun, I think.” His signature sleepy morning grin covering his face. 

[rainbow-nerdss]

In the summer of '86, Steve looks around at his friends, his kids, his hometown, all beaten to a pulp and barely recovered.

Nothing is open in Hawkins anymore, so he packs them in between his car and Nancy's and drives them all out to the next town over.

There's a new movie out, called Ferris Bueller's Day Off -- no monsters or demons or anything of the sort, he'd checked. He's going to give them a day of being normal kids for once in their damn lives. He buys the popcorn, Robin and Nancy go halves on the tickets, Eddie gets the drinks while Jonathan and Argyle are treating everyone to pizza afterwards.

The kids make a beeline for the best seats in the back row, while Steve files in next to the older kids about halfway back. He's between Robin and Eddie, Nancy on Robin's other side, Jonathan and Argyle next to Eddie.

The lights dim, the movie starts to play, and Steve feels Eddie's hand slip into his.

This is still new, only a few weeks since Steve had done the same while Eddie was still in hospital, not realising Eddie was awake until he squeezed back.

Steve doesn't know where they stand, but he knows he likes Eddie. He knows he likes this.

The movie is fun for the most part, but when Cameron comes on the screen, Steve feels... A familiarity which isn't exactly comfortable. Something about him digs at a soft patch in Steve's chest that he usually keeps shuttered away.

"The place is like a museum." Ferris says about Cameron's home. "It's very beautiful and very cold and you're not allowed to touch anything. Can you appreciate what it must have been like for Cameron to be in that joint as a baby?"

Steve's brow furrows. It isn't all that bad, is it? It sounds a lot like Steve's house, and Steve is--- well he's not fine, but he always figures the uosode down is the main culprit for that. His folks are dicks, but they haven't had that much of an effect on him, right?

The first tear falls when Cameron looks at that painting in the gallery. The face of the child in the painting grows less and less distinct the longer he looks until it's just a mess of colour, with no substance. The image burns itself onto Steve's retinas and he squeezes Eddie's hand so tight, Eddie looks away from the screen, face falling at the sight of Steve crying silently in the theatre.

"Are you okay?" He leans over and whispers it in Steve's ear so as not to bother anyone. Steve just blinks away the tears and nods. It's a comedy movie. Just a movie.

And Steve enjoys it, he really does. He thinks it might be a new favourite actually, Ferris is funny and kind of an asshole in a lovable way, the way Steve always aimed for in high school but never quite achieved. Ferris hijacks a fucking parade to cheer up his friend, Ferris is what Steve always wanted to be, but Cameron is who he is.

Steve wonders if Eddie would hijack a parade for him. He thinks maybe he would.

Steve watches as Cameron loses it, goes into shock, and later when he kicks his asshole of a dad's car into the trees, Steve feels a sort of secondhand catharsis.

"You gonna tell me what's up?" Eddie asks, idling in the car outside of Steve's house after the kids are all dropped home.

"I think I wanna fuck up my dad's car?" Steve says, aiming a sheepish look over at Eddie.

Eddie grins, leans across the console and kisses Steve for the first time.

"Fuck, yeah. You still got that bat?"

[tboybuck]

36 and 7 could be a fun Steddie combo!

hiiiii sav!!! i hope you're feeling a little better - this is for you!

36. "You were put on this earth to give me a headache" 7. "It could be worse" cw: injuries

It happened so fast. Steve doesn’t even know how it happened, just that it happened so. Fucking. Fast. One minute Eddie was at the top of the stairs and the next he was at the bottom, flat on his back with his… oh, no, with his ankle bent at a weird angle.

Eddie was groaning in pain, propping himself up on one of the stairs by the elbow, looking at his ankle with a look of horror on his face. And Steve was in crisis aversion mode. He was at Eddie’s side in the blink of an eye, his focus narrowed to the rapidly swelling joint, the heat radiating off of Eddie, the tremor in Eddie’s voice as he asked if it was broken.

“Yeah,” Steve told him. “Yeah. Eds, it’s probably broken. What were you doing?”

“Nothing!” Eddie insisted. “I swear, I think I just missed the top step.”

“Okay, well maybe try paying attention to where you’re putting your feet next time, yeah?”

“That’s not the problem, Steve.”

“Sure it isn’t. Because you’re always so spacially aware, huh?”

“Jesus Christ, now you sound like Jeff. Why the fuck are we fighting right now? Can you please get me up and take me to the fucking hospital?”

“I swear to god it’s like you were put on this earth to give me a fucking headache.”

“It could be worse,” Eddie said with a shrug as Steve hauled him to his feet. Eddie winced but he kept his weight off of it. “At least this time it’s a normal injury instead of a supernatural one.”

“Small miracles,” Steve muttered.

And the thing is… yeah, it could have been a lot worse. Eddie was clumsy, and Steve was forever the one paying the price for it, but this was the first time he’d broken a bone since everything with the Upside Down. His first major injury, really.

And Eddie didn’t complain the whole drive to the hospital, even though Steve knew that Eddie hated the hospital - hated the way that it smelled, hated the way that it reminded him of the three weeks he spent there in the spring of ‘86. It had been years now, and they weren’t even living in Hawkins anymore and the hospital they were driving to wasn’t the same one that Eddie spent all that time in. 

Something like that never really leaves a person, though. It would never leave Eddie and it would never leave Steve. And whenever they had to make a trip downtown to the emergency room - much more common now that they were on their own, for whatever reason - they would both put on a brave face and suck it up.

Eddie really was put on this earth to give Steve a headache some days, but it was a headache Steve was willing to live with. 

help me kick writer's block in the mf teeth

[radiojamming]

How do we think John Hartnell got his injuries? They say he had a compressed vertebra, an injured ankle, a foot infection, and a shoulder injury. There doesn't seem to be any record of how these happened, and they didn't mention anything about it during his exhumation.

YES I LOVE THIS QUESTION

So there actually are some records of what happened from his forensic report from the '86 exhumation! Like a lot of things about him, it does take some guesswork until we build a time machine and study him like a bug the way I've always wanted.

Here are some selected parts of the autopsy report, which we can use to reconstruct what might have happened to him:

[About the cervical spine compression:] However, there does appear to be some compression of the superior end-plate of the body of C6, consistent with mild fracture, probably representing subacute injury. Cervical alignment is normal. There are no arthritic changes.

[About his upper shoulders and arms:] On some projections, the left acromion appears slightly tapered, possibly due to old trauma. A small spur off the posterior aspect of the left olecranon is also likely to be post-traumatic.

[About the wrists:] The wrists and hands are unremarkable, except for diffuse muscle wasting. There is mild bilateral negative ulnar variance (the distal ulna lies more proximal than the distal radius at the distal radioulnar articulation; if severe, this misalignment may predispose to avascular necrosis of the lunate). No evidence for fractures or arthritis was found.

[About the lower extremities:] The femurs appear normal. Hip and knee articulations are preserved. However, there is a slight widening of the medial aspect of the left ankle joint, raising the possibility of ligamentous injury. No fractures are noted. The talar dome and tibial plafond show no evidence for osteochondritis dissecans, an occasional sequel to subchondral injury. A few growth recovery lines (Harris lines) are noted in the lower tibial shafts. There is also some spurring off the anterior articular lip of the distal right tibia, and probably post-traumatic in origin. A more curious finding is a possible focus of cortical demineralization in the plantar aspect of the 4th metatarsal shaft of the left foot, best demonstrated on oblique projections. Actual disruption of the cortex may be present and could represent osteomyelitis. However, there were no overlying superficial ulcers or open wounds.

OKAY SO we have some key parts of these selections (parts I omitted included stuff like saying how Hartnell looked better than Braine; RIP buddy), and we also have to consider a few things in addition to these: Jartnell had already been exhumed twice before (1852 and briefly in 1984) and the earliest exhumation had done damage to his body, he had some obvious wasting from being stuck in the ice for 140+ years, and tuberculosis can damage far more than just the lungs.

What we can't be completely sure of is his family medical history, although the Inglefield & Sutherland exhumation attempt remarked that tuberculosis was "a malady to which it was further known that the deceased was prone." I haven't been able to find a clarification for this comment—I took it to either mean it was known that he'd died of TB, or it was known that he'd had TB in the past. (See: what I think his dad died from.) But we also can assume that the Harris lines in his legs show that he'd gone through some period of undernourishment at some early point in his life, which isn't too out of pocket for a Victorian working class person. Granted, he was nearly six foot tall and his brother was 5'8" (both taller than the average Victorian-era man), so his growth wasn't too arrested.

All to say that some of his forensic oddities may have come from an earlier time in his life, like an injury or a previous condition. The injury in his elbow, for instance, sounds like it came from earlier in his life. He had been a sailor on a multi-year voyage on the HMS Volage in the past, and went from a career of a shoemaker (which involved inhaling some gnarly chemicals like green vitriol/copperas, as well as repetitive motion injuries) to a full-time sailor without the benefit of training like his younger brother had. Some of those past injuries might have come from this time—workplace injuries, essentially.

The newer injuries, like the one in his neck, could have come from a wide range of sources. Consider that he did have a zinc deficiency, and some of the symptoms of this include night blindness, fatigue, and poor wound healing. He might have been more susceptible to falls, or had a delayed reaction time. The ankle injury, for instance, sounds like a bad sprain; there are a ton of different ways to screw up your ankle on a ship like that (swinging boom accident? fell off the rigging?? slipped on the ice???). The osteomyelitis in his foot might have had a correlation to this, or might have come from an older, poorly-healed injury.

However, he was healthy enough early in the voyage that he wasn't sent back to England during the check-up near Greenland. Either he hadn't presented all of these symptoms yet, or he was really good at hiding them.

This is all a long-winded, infodumpy way to say that our boy here had a medical history that would make you wince and give a sympathetic "oooooh". He was a working-class Victorian man with working-class Victorian injuries and maladies, and it's completely possible that his family history didn't help.

[kleopatra45]

I'm so scared because it's my 8th house profection year (20 years), my Pluto and vertex are there...

Could you talk more about the profection year of each house and what we can expect?

Annual profections are a traditional astrological technique used to predict themes and experiences that may be prominent in a particular year of your life. The concept is simple: each year of your life corresponds to a different house in your natal chart, and the affairs of that house take center stage during that year.

The house that is activated is called the "Profection House," and the planet ruling that house, called the "Time Lord," is considered especially significant during that year. The activated house and its ruler provide clues about the areas of life that will be particularly active, challenging, or rewarding.

1st House Profection Year (Ages 0, 12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72, 84, etc.)

- Themes: Self-identity, personal growth, health, appearance, and overall vitality.

- Expectations: This year emphasizes your relationship with yourself. It's a time for self-discovery, redefining your identity, and focusing on your physical body and personal goals. You might feel more motivated to take control of your life and make decisions that reflect who you truly are.

2nd House Profection Year (Ages 1, 13, 25, 37, 49, 61, 73, 85, etc.)

- Themes: Finances, personal values, material possessions, self-worth.

- Expectations: This year centers around your resources and what you value. Financial matters come to the forefront, as well as questions about what makes you feel secure. You may focus on earning, saving, or re-evaluating your material and emotional security.

3rd House Profection Year (Ages 2, 14, 26, 38, 50, 62, 74, 86, etc.)

- Themes: Communication, learning, siblings, neighbors, short trips.

- Expectations: Expect increased activity in your immediate environment. This year is often marked by a desire to learn new skills, engage in more communication, or connect with siblings and neighbors. Writing, teaching, or learning could become prominent.

4th House Profection Year (Ages 3, 15, 27, 39, 51, 63, 75, 87, etc.)

- Themes: Home, family, roots, emotional foundations.

- Expectations: Focus shifts to your home life and family matters. You might move, renovate, or explore your ancestry. Emotional security and your relationship with your family take precedence. This is also a year to establish a strong foundation for the future.

5th House Profection Year (Ages 4, 16, 28, 40, 52, 64, 76, 88, etc.)

- Themes: Creativity, romance, children, pleasure.

- Expectations: Creativity and self-expression are highlighted. This could manifest as artistic pursuits, romantic relationships, or activities that bring you joy. Children, whether your own or others, may also play a significant role this year.

6th House Profection Year (Ages 5, 17, 29, 41, 53, 65, 77, 89, etc.)

- Themes: Health, work, daily routines, service.

- Expectations: Health and daily routines come into focus. You might adopt new habits, address health issues, or find yourself focusing more on work and service. This is a year for refining your routine and improving your day-to-day life.

7th House Profection Year (Ages 6, 18, 30, 42, 54, 66, 78, 90, etc.)

- Themes: Partnerships, marriage, one-on-one relationships, contracts.

- Expectations: Relationships take center stage. This could be a year of marriage, forming new partnerships, or renegotiating existing ones. It's a time to focus on how you relate to others and the dynamics of your significant relationships.

8th House Profection Year (Ages 7, 19, 31, 43, 55, 67, 79, 91, etc.)

- Themes: Shared resources, transformation, death, taxes, intimacy.

- Expectations:Matters involving shared resources, such as joint finances or investments, are prominent. This year may also bring a focus on deep psychological transformation, confronting fears, or dealing with endings and rebirths.

9th House Profection Year (Ages 8, 20, 32, 44, 56, 68, 80, 92, etc.)

- Themes: Travel, higher education, philosophy, belief systems.

- Expectations: This year is about expanding your horizons, whether through travel, education, or exploring new philosophies. You may be drawn to new ideas, spiritual pursuits, or cultural experiences that broaden your understanding of the world.

10th House Profection Year (Ages 9, 21, 33, 45, 57, 69, 81, 93, etc.)

- Themes: Career, public image, authority, long-term goals.

- Expectations: Your career and public life come into focus. This year often brings changes or advancements in your professional life. You might gain recognition, take on more responsibility, or work towards long-term goals that define your legacy.

11th House Profection Year (Ages 10, 22, 34, 46, 58, 70, 82, 94, etc.)

- Themes: Friendships, groups, aspirations, social networks.

- Social connections and friendships are highlighted. You might become more involved in groups or organizations, or work towards goals with others. This is also a time to focus on your hopes and aspirations, often within a community context.

12th House Profection Year (Ages 11, 23, 35, 47, 59, 71, 83, 95, etc.)

- Themes: Solitude, spiritual growth, endings, hidden matters.

- Expectations: This is a year of introspection and possibly retreat. You may feel the need to withdraw and focus on your inner world. It's a time for spiritual growth, healing, and dealing with subconscious or hidden issues. Often, this year can also bring closure to certain chapters in your life.

After determining which house is activated, identify the ruling planet of that house in your natal chart. The condition and aspects of this planet will offer further insight into what the year might bring. Look at how current planetary transits are affecting the activated house and the Time Lord. This will add more depth to your understanding of the year's themes.Reviewing previous years when the same house was activated can give you a sense of recurring themes or lessons. Understanding the house profections can give you a roadmap for the year, helping you navigate challenges and make the most of opportunities aligned with the themes of your activated house.

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch. 86-90

The shocking answers to all your existential dancing questions INSIDE!

Okay, so last time Makima basically laid out her true agenda, which is to either take control of Chainsaw Man's reality altering powers, or to die to Chainsaw Man in the attempt.

According to her, the Chainsaw Devil was the one even other devils feared, because when Chainsaw killed one of them, they stayed dead, instead of reincarnating. But devils in this world are manifestations of humanity's collective fear of a particular thing, so the only way to destroy a devil forever is to also destroy the very concept they embody. So in this universe there used to be a historical event called "World War II", which gave rise to a "World War II Devil", I guess. Then Chainsaw Devil killed that guy, and now World War II never happened.

Makima, aka the Control Devil, seems to be the only one who remembers these changes, and she knows Chainsaw Man is responsible for them, so she wants to take that power for herself and control it, natch.

I am not sure if she actually knows how to accomplish this. The Chainsaw Devil became Pochita and merged with Denji back in Chapter 1, and Makima seems to view this as an obstacle. Everything she's done since chapter 1 has been designed to undermine the contract between Pochita and Denji, but they're still combined, you know?

Also, Makima admits that she might lose and get destroyed by Chainsaw Man, so there's a sense of fatalism to her campaign. She's just sort of doing stuff and it's not clear if she cares if it works. She ordered Chainsaw Man to save her from the Hell Devil, and then he got cast down to Hell, and then he made it back, but then he attacked Makima instead of saving her. So I'm not sure what to make of it.

None of this really explains why Chainsaw Man is terrorizing a fast food place in Chapter 85. I think the idea here is that Denji is taking a back seat in this merger, and now we're seeing a more "pure" version of the Chainsaw Devil, without Denji's humanity to temper its actions. It still has Pochita's desire to experience Denji's dreams, though, and Denji once expressed a desire to eat a burger, so I think this is Pochita trying to do that on his own. The problem is that the Chainsaw Devil can't talk or do much of anything without carving up everything around him.

Coincidentally, Kobeni works at this burger joint, since she resigned from Public Safety. I'm not sure she recognizes this new (old?) version of Chainsaw Man, but either way, she's too afraid of it to serve it hamburgers without tripping and dropping the order. Her boss wonders if this is all an elaborate Candid Camera bit, because... well, it probably would make more sense than what is actually happening. Chainsw decapitates him. I'm not sure if this is accidental or not.

Kobeni finally manages to get the food to Chainsaw, who eats it, then recalls Denji's longing to go on a date. Chainsaw would like to do that too, but where would he find a girl to go out with him? Oh, there's one on his left. Perfect!

The bigger question is: Why is Chainsaw bothering with this at all? I think the idea here is that he lacks the sapience that Denji had. Not that Denji was a genius or anything, but he would probably understand that he didn't actually finish off Makima earlier, and he wouldn't just wander off to fool around with Kobeni. Then again, maybe seeking out Kobeni is exactly what he'd do in this situation. Just about everyone else he knows is dead. Denji and Kobeni were never close, but who else has he got left?

Anyway, he makes her dance on some arcade machine and when a Devil Hunter shows up to intervene, he kills that guy. I'm not sure he was in Public Safety or just a civilian hunter, but he had no idea what he was getting into.

Then he just sits around on a rooftop and Makima confronts him again. I think she's been following him for a little while now, and he's finally realized it. Or maybe all that stuff with Kobeni was just him killing time while he waited for Makima to make a move.

This time, Makima has a new squad to back her up. Some of these faces are familiar. Qwanxi, Reze, and the sword guy who was the grandson of the Yakuza guy Denji used to work for. But there's four others making their debut here.

This kind of irritates me, because the returning characters all seemed to be dead, and the implication here is that the other four were also guys we've seen before. I thought the girl was Angel Devil because of the hair and the jacket sleeves flopping around, but she's got her arms crossed and she's just wearing the jacket like a cape. And I thought the blonde guy might be the one who used the Stone Devil Power from a while back. But no, they're all new characters, yet they're presented like callbacks we're supposed to recognize.

Also, it's unclear whether Reze, Quanxi, and the sword guy are back from the dead or simply got brainwashed like everyone else. I enjoyed Reze and Quanxi from before, but this comeback is kind of weak because they're just stooges for Makima now, with no interest in their original motives.

Makima explains this, although I'm not sure Chainsaw is really capable of understanding what she's saying. It sure seemed like Reze and the others had a similar deal to Denji, where they weren't devils or humans or fiends, but a secret fourth thing. Makima confirms that they are indeed a secret fourth thing, and the reason it's a secret is because Chainsaw Man erased that secret fourth thing the same way he erased World War II.

Except... he kind of didn't, because Reze and the others are still here. The name was erased, but they're still around, somehow. The Chainsaw Man wiki calls them "hybrids", so that's as good a name as any. Maybe that's how they survived the erasure. Devils can merge with living humans, clearly, but maybe there's more than one way to do it, and Chainsaw erased one method but not the other. These seven hybrids and Chainsaw Man still exist because they were created with that other process, and Makima isn't aware of the distinction.

Or this erasure thing is bullshit. I mean, Chainsaw Man killed the Gun Devil, right? But there's still guns. Kishibe's group shot Makima earlier today. Chainsaw Man killed the Zombie Devil, but everyone still remembers zombies. Hell, some of Zombie Devil's own zombies were still around weeks after that battle.

So is there some loophole to this? Did Chainsaw Devil's erasure power only work before Pochita merged with Denji? Is that why Makima is trying to separate them? It's the only thing that makes sense to me. She already had Denji under her thumb before, so all of this would have been unnecessary if Denji could fit into her plans.

And maybe this is why Pochita merged with Denji. Perhaps, instinctively, he realized that the hybrids are indestructible enough that they can survive erasure, so combining with Denji would thwart Makima's plans.

I say this because Makima speaks of a battle between Chainsaw Devil, the "Weapon Devils", and the Four Horsemen. I'm pretty sure "Weapon Devils" refers to the seven hybrids under her control right now. As for the Four Horsemen, I went ahead and looked that up on the Chainsaw Man Wiki, and found out Makima is one of them. I wasn't entirely surprised to find that out.

Okay, some Bible triva for you: The Four Horsemen are not "War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death", as depicted in popular culture. The ones depicted in the Book of Revelation are actually named "War, Famine, Conquest, and Death." Conquest has been interpreted as Pestilence over the centuries, and I'm probably not qualified to weigh in on that discussion, but it's pretty clear that Makima is more akin to a conqueror than an infectious disease.

The reason it doesn't surprise me too much to learn all of this is because when Makima explained her plan to Kishibe, she spoke of using Chainsaw's power to erase other problems faced by humanity: war, hunger, and death. It seemed kind of odd to me that she name-dropped three horsemen without the fourth. I'm kind of a mark for this sort of thing so it sticks out when I see it. And it dawned on me that Makima wouldn't want to eliminate conquest because it's kind of her whole thing. So maybe that makes her the fourth horseman. Turns out I was onto something.

And I suppose Makima does sort of tie in to pestilence since she uses vermin to spy on her enemies, and she has that contract with the Prime Minister of Japan to undo her own deaths in exchange for the lives of random Japanese citizens. That's kind of like a plague.

Where was I? Oh, right. So Chainsaw Devil was fighting those eleven guys, then diapered. Makima says they couldn't find him, and that was because he had changed into an unrecognizable, near-death form. This was almost certainly Pochita, and that probably explains why the li'l guy was wounded when Denji first saw him.

So now, Makima can pick up this battle where they left off. Well, without the other three horsemen, apparently. You'd think they'd take an interest in this business, especially since Makima is actively plotting to eliminate them.

I have to say, this battle is kind of... blah for me. Reze and Quanxi were awesome, but Makima's brainwashing just makes them ordinary, especially with five other goons using the same kind of powers. These designs are pretty decent on their own, but part of what made Quanxi work was the way she was totally nude and her arrow stuff conveniently covered up her naughty bits. Reze fought in her barista clothes and then her undies, which was also kind of unique in this series. But now everyone's in a suit and tie, and it kind of falls flat.

The concept here is stretched kind of thin, because all eight of these characters are basically the same idea: a human figure with weapons for their head and arms. Gun Fiend was basically the same deal too, so that makes nine. It reminds me of that joke about how death metal bands all have white logos written in an illegible font. There was a list of bands at some show, and the only one you could read or really notice was "Party Cannon", which had this cutesy colorful logo because it was a My Little Pony reference.

And right now, Makima is Party Cannon, because she's literally the only one in this battle who doesn't look like a scribbly figure covered in screentone. Chainsaw defeats some of the hybrids, but the rest of them combine their attacks and Makima uses her own fingergun thing to try to drive him higher and higher into the air.

So she's going for a Battle Tendency strategy, which I certainly appreciate, but does she seriously expect Chainsaw Man to asphyxiate up there? I mean, if it was this simple, why not lure him into an enclosed space full of nitrogen? He'd suffocate before he realized anything was wrong.

But it's not that simple. Chainsaw just rips his own heart out and tosses it back down to the battlefield. On the way down, it grows back a new everything and I guess the old body dies or whatever.

Once he gets back down, he snares the remaining enemies in chains and...

Hooray, he won! Well, no. He didn't. None of this battle really mattered.

Chainsaw goes right back to where he left Kobeni and makes her dance some more, and then Makima shows up and asks why he doesn't eat her? Wait, is that how it's supposed to work? Chainsaw Devil has to eat a devil to erase what it stands for? No, wait, it can't work that way, but we'll get into that later.

So it's a stalemate, or so it would seem, except Makima has another card to play. Kobeni's fear of Chainsaw Man has diminished somewhat, and this is important because...

... the rest of the world really loves Chainsaw Man. By now, news has spread that the Gun Devil is finally dead, and everyone is grateful to Chainsaw Man for finishing him off. He's a hero! But if devils get their power from humanity's fear, then that means...

Yeah, Chainsaw Man is losing strength. All Makima has to do now is... the exact same thing she did before... and she'll win, because Chainsaw is too weak to resist.

Well, not the exact same thing. This time she just uses Angel Devil's power to make super weapons and throws a big spear down at Kobeni. She knows Chainsaw will step in to protect her, and that takes him down. So it's over, right? Wrong.

Remember Power? She's dead, though. Well, not quite, and Pochita asks her to help.

A while back, Power had Denji drink some of her blood, and this blood is still inside Denji's body, so even though Power's body was destroyed by Makima, a small portion of her lives on inside Denji. That won't last for long, but Pochita proposes that she drink some of his blood, which will... gee this is confusing.

Oh, okay, this is like how devils would eat the Gun Devil flesh to get a power boost. Power is weak, but if she eats some Chainsaw Man flesh she'll get strong enough to help. And she readily agrees because...

... Denji is her buddy. See, this is a really beautiful moment, because the two of them were assigned to work together by Makima, as part of her master plan to build up and tear down Denji's happiness and self-esteem. But what she failed to consider was that their friendship would also change Power into a better person, someone who would upset Makima's plans when she least expected it.

So Makima advances toward the fallen Chainsaw Man, who coughs up blood that turns out to be... whatever this is. Well, it's Power jacked up on Chainsaw Man flesh, but wow.

Makima gets the HOT TAG and she's a HOUSE OF FIRE, but it doesn't take long for Makima to take back the initiative.

She summons zombies to attack and I guess Makima was in control of the Zombie Devil too? All I know is that I don't like what that one zombie is doing near Makima's crotch.

Soon, the tide turns against Power, and Makima commands her to surrender Chainsaw Man to her. Power... agrees immediately. Aw, you let Pochita down! Or did she?

[babil-plush]

being gay is bad btw

Yeah ok

But have you heard that Ace Attorney[a] is a visual novel adventure video games franchise developed by Capcom. With storytelling fashioned after legal dramas, the first entry in the series, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, was released in 2001; since then, five further main series games, as well as various spin-offs, prequels and high-definition remasters for newer game consoles, have been released. Additionally, the series has seen adaptations in the form of a live-action film and an anime, and has been the base for manga series, drama CDs, musicals and stage plays. The player takes the roles of various defense attorneys, including Phoenix Wright, his mentor Mia Fey, and his understudies Apollo Justice and Athena Cykes, who investigate cases and defend their clients in court; they find the truth by cross-examining witnesses and finding inconsistencies between the testimonies and the evidence they have collected. The cases all last a maximum of three days, with the judge determining the outcome based on evidence presented by the defense attorney and the prosecutor.

While the original Japanese versions of the games are set in Japan, the series' localizations are set in the United States (primarily Los Angeles), though retaining Japanese cultural elements. In the spin-off series Ace Attorney Investigations, the player takes the role of prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and in the prequel series The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles, of Phoenix's ancestor Ryunosuke Naruhodo.

The series was created by the writer and director Shu Takumi. He wanted the series to end after the third game, but it continued, with Takeshi Yamazaki taking over as writer and director starting with Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth (2009); Takumi has since returned to write and direct some spin-off titles. The series has been well received, with reviewers liking the characters and story, and the finding of contradictions; it has also performed well commercially, with Capcom regarding it as one of their strongest intellectual properties. The series has been credited with helping to popularize visual novels in the Western world. As of June 30, 2023, the game series has sold 10 million copies worldwide.[3]

information.[75] Dual Destinies also introduces "revisualization",[76][77] where the player reviews vital facts and forms links between evidence to reach new conclusions.[76] Spirit of Justice introduces "divination séances", in which the player is shown the memories of victims moments before their deaths, and must find contradictions in the victim's five senses to determine what has happened.[78] Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney introduces simultaneous cross-examinations of multiple witnesses, with the player being able to see and hear reactions from the different witnesses to the testimony and using this to find contradictions.[79] The Great Ace Attorney introduces "joint reasoning", where the player finds out the truth by pointing out when their investigative partner Herlock Sholmes takes his reasoning "further than the truth".[80]

The Ace Attorney Investigations spin-off series splits the gameplay into investigation phases and rebuttal phases, the latter of which is similar to the courtroom trials of the main series.[81][82][83] During the investigation phases, the player searches for evidence and talks to witnesses and suspects. Things the player character notices in the environment are saved as thoughts; the player can use the "logic" system to connect two such thoughts to gain access to new information.[81][84] At some points, the player can create hologram reproductions of the crime scene,[81][85] through which they can discover new information that would otherwise be hidden.[86] Ace Attorney Investigations 2 introduces "logic chess", where the player interrogates witnesses in a timed sequence that is visualized as a game of chess, with the player aiming to destroy the other character's chess pieces. To do this, they need to build up their advantage in the discussion by alternating between speaking and listening, and then choose to go on the offensive.[83][87][88]

The protagonist of the first three games is the defense attorney Phoenix Wright (Ryūichi Naruhodō in the Japanese version), who is assisted by the spirit medium Maya Fey;[89] in the third game, Phoenix's mentor Mia Fey is also a playable character.[57] In the fourth game, the protagonist is the defense attorney Apollo Justice;[90] in the fifth, Phoenix, Apollo and the new defense attorney Athena Cykes are all protagonists;[91] and in the sixth, Phoenix and Apollo are the main protagonists, while Athena is playable in one case.[92] The spin-off The Great Ace Attorney is set in England near the end of the 19th century, and follows Phoenix's ancestor Ryunosuke Naruhodo.[93]

Phoenix's childhood friend Miles Edgeworth, who is the protagonist of the Ace Attorney Investigations games,[81][83] is a recurring rival prosecutor character; in addition to him, each new game in the series introduces a new rival:[89] Franziska von Karma is introduced in the second game,[94] Godot in the third,[95] Klavier Gavin in the fourth,[96] Simon Blackquill in the fifth,[97] Nahyuta Sahdmadhi in the sixth,[98] Barok van Zieks in Adventures,[99] and Kazuma Asogi in Resolve.[100] Most of the prosecutor characters are portrayed as powerful and arrogant characters of high social status and who care about keeping perfect-win records in court, and even may favor convictions over finding the truth, although most have secret motivations and sympathetic backstories and typically help the protagonist at the game's climax. Similarly to real Japanese prosecutors, the prosecutors in the series often directly oversee investigations, issuing orders to the police. Japanese attitudes towards the police force are reflected in the series, with the police being represented by incompetent characters such as Dick Gumshoe, Maggey Byrde and Mike Meekins.[101] In the world of Ace Attorney, trials only last three days, and usually end with a "guilty" verdict, with trials taken up by the protagonists of the games being rare exceptions.[89] The outcomes of cases are decided by a judge, based on evidence provided by the defense attorney and the prosecutor.[101

between games: art from the first game for main characters such as Phoenix, Maya and Edgeworth was reused, to avoid having the previous games look outdated in comparison to newer games in the series; and no new gameplay mechanics were added for Trials and Tribulations, as Takumi was happy with the gameplay after having added the psyche-lock mechanic for Justice for All.[108]

For the fourth game, Takumi wrote the scenario and took on a supervisory role.[55][109] He had wanted the series to end with the third game, as he felt Phoenix had been fully explored and that his story had been told; he said that it is important to know when to end a story, that he did not want the series to become a shadow of its former self, and that he did not see any reason to continue it.[110] Despite this, the spin-off series Ace Attorney Investigations was created, being directed by Takeshi Yamazaki and produced by Motohide Eshiro;[111][112] Takumi returned to the series to write the crossover Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney.[113] He also directed and wrote The Great Ace Attorney, which was described as being the first entry in a new Ace Attorney series.[41] He said that he has mixed feelings about the series being developed by other Capcom staff, comparing it to a parent sending their child to their first day in school.[114] Yamazaki and Eshiro went on to direct and produce the main series entries Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice.[115][116][117] Due to exhaustion after working on Dual Destinies, Yamazaki split direction responsibilities with Takuro Fuse for Spirit of Justice, with Yamazaki working on the scenario, and Fuse on the art and gameplay.[117] In 2020, Yamazaki left Capcom.[118]

Games through both the Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice series were created using two-dimensional sprites, initially due to the limitations of the hardware. The developers had discussed switching to 3D computer graphics ahead of the first Apollo Justice game, but it was not until the Professor Layton crossover, which used 3D to a limited extent, that they realized the Nintendo hardware could now easily support 3D. Dual Destinies was developed around the use of 3D graphics, which remained a staple for future games in the series. Similarly, Level5, the developers of the Professor Layton series, also started using 3D graphics after the crossover title.[119]

The localization of the first game was outsourced to Bowne Global, and was handled by the writer Alexander O. Smith and the editor Steve Anderson. While the Japanese version takes place in Japan, the localized version is set in the United States: because one of the episodes involves time zones, they had to specify where the game takes place, and chose the United States without thinking a lot about it.[120] The Japanese justice system of the original still remained intact in the localization, as changing it would have altered the entire game structure.[121]

The change in the series' setting became an issue in later games, where the Japanese setting was more obvious.[120] Starting with the second game, the series localization direction has been handled by Janet Hsu;[94] One of the first decisions she had to make was how to localize Maya's hometown and the mysticism of the Fey clan. She came up with the idea that the localized versions of the Ace Attorney games take place in Los Angeles in an alternative universe where anti-Japanese laws like the California Alien Land Law of 1913 were not passed, anti-Japanese sentiments were not powerful, and where Japanese culture flourished. This dictated what should be localized and what should be kept Japanese; things relating to the Fey clan and the Kurain channeling technique were kept Japanese, as that was Maya's heritage, while Japanese foods that were not widely known in the West were changed, such as changing Maya's favorite food from ramen to burgers. That particular change was mocked by players as the dish later became more well known in the West, and was lampshaded in the English release of Spirit of Justice, where Maya is described as liking both ramen and burgers.[94][122]

Character names were also localized to use double meanings similarly to the Japanese names;[121] the name puns were based on the characters' personalities or backgrounds, or were visual gags.[123] Several English names were based on their Japanese counterparts, but for some characters the names had to be altered heavily compared to the Japanese versions.[121] Smith and Anderson had a lot of freedom when localizing the names of minor characters in the first game, but discussed the names of the main cast with Capcom. Phoenix's English surname, "Wright", was chosen as his Japanese name, "Naruhodō"—meaning "I see" or "I understand"—was frequently used as a joke in the script.[120]

Dual Destinies was given a digital-only release in the West as to release the English version as close to the Japanese release date as possible while maintaining a tight development schedule.[30] Its follow-up, Spirit of Justice, was released in the same manner. Although Ace Attorney Investigations 2 has not been officially localized, an English fan translation has been made.[40] Both The Great Ace Attorney games were released in the West with English localization in July 2021 as part of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles,[53] making Ace Attorney Investigations 2 the only game in the series to remain a Japan-only release.

The Ace Attorney series has been well received by critics,[124][125][126][127][130][133] and has performed well commercially: in December 2009, it was Capcom's 9th-best-selling series of all time,[135] and in October 2010, they called it one of their "strongest intellectual properties", with more than 3.9 million units sold worldwide.[136] By December 2013, the series had sold over 5 million units.[137] In the United States, the first game became surprisingly successful, forcing Capcom to prepare at least three additional runs to meet the demand.[138] By June 2018, the series had sold over 6.7 million units.[139] As of June 30, 2023, the game series has sold 10 million copies worldwide.[3] Geoff Thew at Hardcore Gamer said that the "craziness" of the game world makes the cases entertaining, but also that it "resonates on a deeper level" due to its connection to the real Japanese legal system, making the setting still feel relevant in 2014.[89] Bob Mackey at USgamer said that the Ace Attorney games were among the best written games of all time, and that the series' strength is how each game builds up to a "stunning and satisfying finale".[140] Thomas Whitehead at Nintendo Life also liked the writing, praising its balance between "light-hearted nonsense" and darker, more serious scenarios.[141] Several reviewers have appreciated the series' characters;[83][89][140][142] Thew said that Phoenix and Maya's banter is among the best in video games, and that Edgeworth's character arc is one of the most compelling parts of the stories.[89]

Reviewers have liked finding contradictions;[1][143] a common complaint, however, is the games' linearity,[56][144][145] as well as how the player sometimes has to resort to a trial-and-error method due to the games only accepting specific pieces of evidence, and how testimony statements sometimes need to be pressed in a specific order.[57][70][143][146] Some reviewers have criticized the lack of changes to the gameplay and presentation throughout the series,[81][16][145] while some have said that fans of the series would not have a problem with this.[83][145]

Several reviewers have praised the series' music.[89][140] Geoff Thew said that the greatest aspect of the series is its audio design, with the first three games using the Game Boy Advance sound chip better than any other game for that platform; he called the music phenomenal, with the exception of that in Justice for All, but said the sound effects are what "steals the show".[89] Mackey commented that the games' small amounts of animations for each character are used well for their characterization.[140]

The Takarazuka Revue, an all-female theater troupe, has adapted the series into stage musicals: 2009's Ace Attorney: Truth Resurrected, which is based on the last episode of the first game;[147] 2010's Ace Attorney 2: Truth Resurrected Again, whose first act is an original story, and whose second is based on the final episode of the second game;[148] and 2013's Ace Attorney 3: Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, which is set before the events of Truth Resurrected Again.[149] A stage play based on the series, titled Gyakuten no Spotlight, ran in 2013, and was written by Eisaku Saito.[150] A 2012 live-action film adaptation of the first game, titled Ace Attorney, was produced at the film studio Toei and directed by Takashi Miike.[151][152] A 2016 TV anime adaptation of the series, Ace Attorney, was produced at A-1 Pictures and directed by Ayumu Watanabe.[4]

Kodansha has published several manga based on the series: a short story anthology was published in Bessatsu Young Magazine in 2006; Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney and Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth were serialized in Weekly Young Magazine in 2007 and 2009, respectively; and another manga, which is based on the anime, was published in V Jump in 2016.[153] A novel based on the series, Gyakuten Saiban: Turnabout Idol, was released in June 2016.[154] Ace Attorney drama CDs,[155][156] soundtrack albums,[157][158] and figurines have also been released.[159][160][161]

Ace Attorney characters have made crossover appearances in other video games. Some Ace Attorney characters appear in SNK vs. Capcom: Card Fighters DS.[162] Phoenix and Edgeworth make a cameo appearance in She-Hulk's ending in the fighting game Marvel vs. Capcom 3: Fate of Two Worlds;[163] in the game's update, Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3, Phoenix appears as a playable character.[164][165] Phoenix and Maya are playable characters in Project X Zone 2, while Edgeworth makes a non-player appearance.[166] Phoenix, Maya, Edgeworth and Franziska were all playable in the mobile game Monster Hunter Explore in 2017, as part of one of its temporary crossover events,[167] and a Phoenix transformation is available for a companion character in Monster Hunter XX.[168] Music from the Ace Attorney series is featured in Taiko Drum Master: Doko Don! Mystery Adventure, with Phoenix making an appearance in the game's story.[169] In April 2021, Ace Attorney was introduced to Teppen alongside the Dead Rising franchise with the "Ace vs. The People" expansion.[170]

In 2015, GamesRadar+ named Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney as the 55th-best video game of all time.[171] In 2016, Famitsu readers voted Gyakuten Saiban as the second-most memorable Game Boy Advance title (behind only Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire) and Gyakuten Saiban 123 as the tenth-best Nintendo 3DS game.[172] In 2017, Famitsu readers voted Gyakuten Saiban the third-best adventure game of all time, behind only Steins;Gate and 428: Shibuya Scramble.[173]

The Ace Attorney series has been credited with helping to popularise visual novels in the Western world.[174][175] Vice magazine credits the Ace Attorney series with popularising the visual novel mystery format,[176] and notes that its success anticipated the resurgence of point-and-click adventure games as well as the international success of Japanese visual novels.[177] According to Danganronpa director Kazutaka Kodaka, Ace Attorney's success in North America was due to how it distinguished itself from most visual novels with its gameplay mechanics, which Danganronpa later built upon and helped it also find success in North America.[175]

The Ace Attorney series has also inspired many video games. The 2008 Capcom title Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law, based on the animated series, shares many elements with the Ace Attorney series.[178][179] The 2013 title Socrates Jones: Pro Philosopher keeps the Ace Attorney format but swaps law for philosophical argument, and the 2015 adventure game Aviary Attorney features similar gameplay but with an all-bird cast of characters.[180][181] The 2016 video game Detective Pikachu, which received a 2019 film adaptation, has also drawn comparisons to the Ace Attorney series.[182][183]

Ace Attorney is referenced in several anime shows. In a murder mystery arc of the 2006 anime series Haruhi Suzumiya, the show's titular character mimics Phoenix Wright during an episode.[184] The 2014 anime series No Game No Life also pays homage to the game during an episode.[185]

In early 2021, a user on Reddit created a bot that took selected Reddit forum arguments into short movies fashioned after Ace Attorney courtroom battles between the games' various characters.[65] A similar bot was later created for the platform X (commonly known as Twitter).[186]

Later that year, the San Francisco Chronicle took note of its queer inspiration and influence: the first game inspired a great deal of fanwork featuring same-sex pairings and developers in turn took inspiration from boys' love in writing the sequels' characters.[187]

[crappymixtape]

crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that are on my reading list or have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ “i’ll miss your forever” – @andvys ( you are winning the battle against Vecna but you are also losing as you get closer and closer to death • eddie x reader )

❤ “i’ve got you” *18+ only – @chestylarouxx ( TW: drugs // you go to a party, grudgingly, and find that maybe that joint you smoked wasn't just the weed you expected. an old friend takes care of you • eddie x reader )

❤ “star of the show” series – @supernovafics ( TW: asshole!steve // you're hoping for the best, perhaps even some sort of miracle, but from the first phone call to the first meeting, it's pretty clear that everything that has been said about him is oh so true • modern!actor!steve x reader )

❤ “can i try one” – @inkluvs ( request prompt with a cw: reader is a bit ditzy? a luna lovegood type beat ; petnames • steve x reader )

❤ “get off – the v-card” *18+ only – @palmtreesx3 ( steve and robin get jobs at a sex shop, ie. buckle the fuck up, omg • steve x reader & robin x oc )

❤ “’rari go fast, i know you like it” *18+only – @superblysubpar ( steve takes you for a ride after closing a big deal at dinner • rich!steve x reader )

❤ “all i really want is you” blurb series *18+ only – @loveshotzz ( TW: age gap // in between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love )

❤ “sugar meets spice” series – @lofaewrites ( the summer of 86’ brings eddie munson 3 things- a diploma, an actual job & a pretty girl who seems to like him just as much as he likes her – needless to say, life is good • construction worker!eddie x waitress!reader )

❤ “if tomorrow never comes” series *18+ only – @sweetsweetjellybean ( TW: smut, mentions of self-harm & death // trapped in the upside down, steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story? • steve x reader )

❤ “half my heart” – @steveharringtonscarkeys ( very sad and kind of out of context steve angst and sadness • steve x reader )

❤ “a study in self-sufficiency” series – @sattlersquarry ( steve’s parents have plans for his future, but he’s starting to think he wants something else • steve x reader )

❤ “to be drunk and in love” – @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ( drunk confessions, best friends to lovers, eddie being a menace and friends who are extremely touchy and too dumb to realise it's because they're in love • eddie x reader )

❤ “to be alone together” *18+ only – @katsu28 ( steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be • steve x reader )

❤ “hugs” – @sigh-mon-says ( TW: implied homophobia // steve Harrington hated hugs until you came along • steve x reader )

❤ “colorblind” – @livingintheupsidedown ( TW: trauma, panic attack, S4 spoilers // you can't decide if you should tell Steve how you feel or not, he makes that decision for you • steve x reader )

[usafphantom2]

How the sixth-generation fighter jet will upend air warfare

Stephen LoseyFriday, Jul 19, 2024

The next generation of fighter aircraft could bring greater speed, range and ability to penetrate deep into enemy airspace — and it might even feature a revolutionary new type of engine, experts and retired U.S. Air Force officer say.

The aviation world has seen five generations of fighters, ranging from the subsonic F-86 Sabre after World War II to the current, stealthy F-35 Joint Strike Fighter. Now, militaries around the world are working on jets they believe will represent technological leaps significant enough to qualify as sixth-generation aircraft.

And while the precise definition of a sixth-generation aircraft isn’t set in stone yet, experts agree on some common attributes, retired Air Force Lt. Gen. Clint Hinote told Defense News.

The Air Force’s effort to build a sixth-gen fighter family of systems is known as Next Generation Air Dominance, or NGAD, and experts say the platform will be asked to do a lot of things.

“You want it to be fast, you want it to fly high,” said Hinote, who was the Air Force’s former deputy chief of staff for strategy, integration and requirements. “You want it to fly a long way. You want it to be as stealthy as possible — not only in radar frequency … [but also] in the infrared spectrum as well.”

Hinote and Heather Penney, a retired F-16 pilot and senior resident fellow at the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, said speed, stealth and range will be among the most crucial elements of a sixth-generation fighter — particularly if it is needed to cross long distances in the Pacific and enter Chinese-controlled airspace.

“Range and the ability to penetrate will be absolutely critical for sixth-generation aircraft, especially given that we’re looking at the Pacific theater and China as our primary pacing threat,” Penney said.

Fifth-generation aircraft such as the F-22 and F-35 were conceived at a time when the United States military still had a Europe and NATO-focused mindset, Hinote said.

“The [F-35] requirements were basically developed right after the Cold War,” Hinote said. “It’s a short-range fighter. That makes total sense in NATO, where you’ve got hundreds of runways everywhere to operate off of. It makes no sense in the Pacific, where the situation is much different [and] you only have a few runways to operate off of.”

It needs to be able to communicate without giving its position away, Hinote said, and it must be able to carry larger payloads than fifth-generation aircraft carry today.

“That allows you to get to a position in the battlespace and the airspace where you can enforce your will through the use of force, if necessary, the concept of air superiority,” Hinote said.

A B-21 Raider conducts flight testing, which includes ground testing, taxiing, and flying operations, at Edwards Air Force Base, California. The B-21 will interoperate with our allies and partners to deliver on our enduring commitment to provide flexible strike options for coalition operations that defend us against common threats. (Courtesy photo)

And the ability to maintain a plane without damaging its stealth coating will be crucial, Penney said.

Early versions of stealth technology on aircraft such as the F-117A Nighthawk and B-2 Spirit bomber were delicate and difficult to maintain, she said.

Stealth has made considerable leaps forward over the years to be more practical and reliable, Penney said, and a sixth-gen fighter’s stealth capabilities also need to take another step forward to be maintainable and provide better performance.

Hinote and Penney said the next generation of aircraft must both take in large amounts of detailed data and fuse it in a way that sorts out the battlespace.

A sixth-gen aircraft “should be able to not only have those advanced sensors, not just forward looking, but side and aft, looking across [multiple] phenomena” such as radar, infrared and other frequencies, Penney said.

And the Air Force wants NGAD to team up with AI-operated drone wingmen known as collaborative combat aircraft, or CCA, as part of the “family of systems” concept. CCAs could carry out strike missions, jam enemy radars, conduct recon, or even serve as decoys.

The Air Force has so far planned for NGAD to have a new type of propulsion system known as an adaptive engine, which can shift to different, more efficient configurations depending on the flying situation. Pratt & Whitney and General Electric Aerospace are each developing their own adaptive engines as part of the Next-Generation Adaptive Propulsion program.

An adaptive engine, however, would be very expensive, Hinote said. And with serious budget crunches prompting the Air Force to reconsider its plans and designs for NGAD, the service is considering whether to scale down its engine to bring NGAD’s price down.

Air Force Secretary Frank Kendall said in a June interview with Defense News that making NGAD’s engine smaller and less complex is an option being considered.

But better dogfighting ability would likely not be on the wish list for sixth-generation fighters, Hinote said. He does not expect those aircraft to have advancements in slow-speed maneuverability or an emphasis on cannons that would allow fighters to go toe-to-toe in relatively close quarters.

“The F-22 can get a high [angle of attack] in ways we’ve never seen,” Hinote said. “The Sukhoi Su-57, same thing. I don’t think it’s relevant for enforcing air superiority in the Pacific.”

The Defense Department does not keep a hard-and-fast taxonomy of aircraft generations. But in 2017, a spokesman at Joint Base Langley-Eustis in Virginia took a crack at it.

In his column, Jeffrey Hood of the 633rd Air Base Wing’s public affairs office said the first generation of fighter jets that emerged following World War II took advantage of novel jet technology and swept wings, as opposed to the perpendicular wings that were previously standard. But those fighters, such as the F-86 Sabre, were limited to sub-sonic speeds and machine guns.

All that changed after Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier in 1947. This opened the door to a second generation of jets, such as the F-104 Starfighter, that could break Mach 1 and even Mach 2, and carry on-board radar and air-to-air missiles, Hood wrote.

The third generation — which included the Vietnam-era F-4 Phantom — incorporated advanced radars and better guided missiles that could engage enemies beyond visual range. After that came the F-14 Tomcat, F-15 Eagle, F-16 Fighting Falcon, and F-18 Hornet — fourth-generation fighters that can maneuver at high G-forces, use digital data links to share information, track multiple targets, and strike surface targets using lasers or GPS guidance.

In a 2016 study published by the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, now-retired Gen. Jeff Harrigian said fifth-generation fighters such as the F-22 and F-35 include stealth, improved self-defense, sensing, and jamming abilities, integrated avionics, and more.

And depending on one’s perspective, the first sixth-generation aircraft could already be flying.

Northrop Grumman has touted its B-21 Raider bomber as the first sixth-gen aircraft. In an interview with Defense News before the B-21′s 2022 rollout, a Northrop official said the bomber’s cutting edge stealth, use of open systems architecture, and use of advanced networking and data sharing technologies to connect sensors to shooters across multiple domains make it “the first of the sixth-gen systems.”

Those abilities are probably enough for the B-21 to qualify as a sixth-generation aircraft, Penney said, though she said its high levels of classification make it hard for outside observers to gauge whether it lives up to the hype.

Hinote looks at Northrop’s claims with a bit more skepticism and thinks it’s more of a marketing angle, but notes these generational definitions are largely matters of opinion.

“If they want to call it sixth-generation, sure,” Hinote said. “I don’t necessarily believe that the stealth characteristics and the open architecture of the B-21 automatically makes it a generational change in what we’ve got. It’s an incremental step, it’s a good step, I’m glad that we’re doing it, but it’s probably not so big that it’s truly generational.”

Stephen Losey is the air warfare reporter for Defense News. He previously covered leadership and personnel issues at Air Force Times, and the Pentagon, special operations and air warfare at Military.com. He has traveled to the Middle East to cover U.S. Air Force operations.

@Aviationweek via X

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