*sings* 🎶likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶 likes are okay but reblogs are slay 🎶
Eddie is live-streaming his current obsession (making beaded animal keychains) in his studio while Steve and Robin drink wine and grade papers in the background. They are at the bottom of their wine bottle when Steve - a little drunk, a little tipsy - is like, “I don’t know why your fans hate me so much. We should get along ‘cause they want you to do things that I also want you to do. And I can actually get you to do it so they should be nice to me. It’s like, mutually intrusive.
Robin: Inclusive
Steve: That’s what I said
Eddie: No one can make me do anything, babe
Steve: I can! I can in *counts off his fingers* twenty words
Eddie: Oh, can you? How?
Steve, counting as he goes: Jeff is my favorite because he sings songs about how much he loves me.
Eddie:
Eddie: Those are my songs. And that’s only fourteen words. Need six more
Steve: But you never sing to me
Eddie:
Steve: *smiles*
Eddie, sighing: *gets up to get his guitar*
Steve, to the camera: See, mutually intuitive
Robin, narrowing her eyes: You’re doing that on purpose
HAMBURG I: It's not just that the narrative becomes so ridiculous, it's that as usual all the other evidence we have contradicts it. George talking about punching Stuart. Stuart's letters. The sourcing voids. “The logbook recorded” nonsense, but a few pages before that the “logbook” is long lost, “unfortunately.” It's like Lewisohn forgot his continuity notebook.
But mostly it's the pictures that put the lie to “Stuart was all and Paul was off moping in a corner.” (And incidentally, very jealous of Pete getting all the best birds.)