#When Eddie went bring the stone he had no idea what was going on

[non-cannon]

If you think about it, technically Rufus did his job as the Osirian in the season two finale. When he took the mask from Nina he protected the Chosen One from going to the afterlife, and with Senkarah following the mask he also sent the evil being harming/threatening the Paragon to the (probably technically not hell) bad afterlife.

[trashmouth-richie]

this promot was sent in by my lovely @joejoequinnquinn here.

prompt words were: chair, belt, “good girl” and smut 🧐

18+ no minors, talk of bdsm, two idiots in love, drug use, steve is mentioned in this off handedly, (i love adding him in at random) eddie, once again, talks about his dick, fluffy smut, Journey slander 😩, high activities, smut! be aware that the dialogue probably doesn’t make sense because they’re jenelle evans from teen mom 2 high

<1.3k eddie x fem reader

a trip to skull rock with a shared joint and a random piece of furniture, what could go wrong?

“Is this your idea of bdsm?” 

Eddie tightens the belt around your wrists, a joint hanging slack from his lips, his eyes squinted with concentration, “FM?—the radio station?” 

Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best idea to get higher than a kite on Easter with your boyfriend and then try to seduce one another. But alas, here you were. 

The drive to skull rock was interesting to say the very least. Eddie claimed he knew how to get there only to have you traveling fifteen miles in the wrong direction— the ‘come back soon!’ sign should have been a giveaway. 

“It’s an acro—af-ro—” your tongue felt like a piece of rubber in your mouth, you’d already mistaken it for gum once tonight, “Dan Aykroyd?” 

“That guy from Ghost?”

The giggles took you over making you lose balance and tipping over the chair you were supposed to be sitting in, hitting the dirt with a soft little thud, hands still tied behind your back. 

Eddie sat in the chair, looking down at you and shaking his head, knowing full well you both shouldn’t have smoked that last blunt. But you were so cute when you begged, he could never deny you. 

“BDSM,” you continue, managing to sit up right, “it’s an acronym… but I dunno what for.” 

“Oh, yeah—” Eddie scratched his head, eyes red and hazy, “I mean Harrington said it was pretty easy, and chicks went nuts over it, calling him ‘daddy’ and shit, begging to be choked.” 

“‘Sir’ suits you better.” 

“How about ‘Master’?” 

“Now you’re pushin’ it.”  

You’re intrigued. interests officially peaked as your scraped dirt under your nails, attempting a castle behind your back. 

“Would I get a title? Is the peasant whore royal enough for such luxuries?” 

Eddie frowns and puts the joint to your lips, “don’t call yourself that. I could punish you y’know.” 

Your eyes widen as they follow the circle of smoke into the air, Eddie’s finger dancing around the center of it as if it were a ring. 

He sighs audibly, loud like a bored child. Suddenly fixated on the chair he was sitting in. 

“Did we bring this?” 

You both burst into laughter, scaring away birds and monsters alike. Disrupting any bit of peace the forest animals had before two stoned idiots stumbled into the wilderness with a plan they had zero idea on how to execute. 

BDSM in the woods, only Eddie Munson would think that was sexy. 

He hoists you up, loosening the belt that was barely held on, holding your dirty hands in his, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his narrow slutty boy hips. 

Onyx would be jealous by your eyes alone, and Eddie’s looked downright demonic. Demon eyes in a cherubs face, that was your Eddie. 

One of your favorite parts of being with him is how his weirdness meshed with yours. Whenever you got this high you could spend hours staring at his porcelain skin, wondering how in the hell he was crafted, molded, carved from the rarest of granite and marble stones and that he was yours— all yours. 

Your hands walked across his face, counting his eyelashes to ten and starting again. 

“Your lips are squishy,” you announce after a while of staring and not blinking,, “like gum— spongy, pink, could be almost made of cake.” 

Eddie adored you, the way your eyebrows quirked like a cartoon when you were deep in thought or admiring his face. 

“Definitely not cake, but you could taste them if you’d like?” 

“Does it hurt?” you ask, removing your fingers from his mouth and squishing his cheeks. 

“The boner you’re sitting on? Yeah, a bit.” 

Your eyes widened in honest horror, “swear to God— I thought it was a flashlight.” 

“Nope,” Eddie attempts a wink but ends up shutting both eyes for a collective six seconds, “that's all me baby.” 

Hands lacing around his neck you grin stupidly into him, pressing your lips to the pretty plush that makes up his mouth. Pecking them with soft chicken like kisses. 

His hands work the globe of your ass, squeezing, rubbing, spanking, as you bite along his collar bone, keeping your teeth marks printed into his skin— your own method of claiming him. 

Buttons scatter along the dirt floor as you rip his shirt open, desperate to see the black widow that had been teasing you, the grotesque demonic zombie head that called the left side of his chest home. He promised someday the right side would be all yours. 

Tracing your name into the blank space with your finger nail, Eddie lets out a low groan. Hooded eyes stare at you and his mouth is on yours before you can finish taking a breath. 

It’s hot, uncoordinated in every way as the two of you claw at each other's pants in the mile high condition you were both in. 

“Why…” you grunt struggling against his zipper, leaning backwards towards his knees, “..is this so difficult.” 

Eddie looks down and grins lazily. 

“Here, lemme help.” He unfastens the button on his jeans, wiggling his hips to shove hia jeans down enough so his cock stood like a tent in his checkered boxers. 

“A picnic?” You gleam with red stark stars in your eyes, “for me?” 

He pulls you forward, “oh baby, take all that you want.” 

It’s quick, dirty, every bit of clumsy filled with shared laughs that were laced with whimpering moans as your bodies rock together, coming together so hard you nearly break the chair. 

You buckle into him, fingers digging into his shoulders to hold yourself up. His spend on the belly of your shirt and the top of the waistband of your ‘easy access’ cotton shorts. 

Nestling into him further you inhale the scent from the sweet burn of weed and sex clinging to his skin and the toothpaste that dribbled down his neck that wasn’t wiped off well enough. 

His hands stroke your back lazily, lips pressed to your shoulder, cock softening on your thigh. 

“What time is it?” 

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t read my watch right now if I tried—everything is spinning.” 

His face is pale, neck clammy with sweat. 

“Gonna puke?”

“Tryin’ not—” 

Holding tight to your waist and moving you over, he throws up the breakfast you had made at two in the afternoon. Eddie hurled and hurled until he shook from the ache of dry heaving.

Leaning back in the chair that you both couldn’t remember the exact whereabouts of how it appeared— he yawned with exhaustion.

“Let’s go home, take a hot shower, have a little nap?” 

He nods and you help him up, pulling his hands until he’s flat footed, and you’re stumbling your way ahead of him. 

“Jesus, I fucking came and barfed on your shirt.” 

You shrug, slurring, “it’s okay— it’s yours anyway.” 

He scoffs in bratty metal fashion, offended by your music knowledge or lack thereof, “I don’t own a ‘Journey’ shirt.”

Eddie pulls you back by the waist and examines the shirt, flipping the collar to see a sharpied ‘WM’ on the tag. 

He geeks out a smile, the color of his irises bleaching back to dark brown, “better get that ‘good girl’ act ready— because Wayne is going to lose his fucking mind.”

[matchingbatbites]

"Now I have to remember you for longer than I have known you" Sorry, I make my self sad imagining Steve standing by the grave stone they put up for Eddie even though they couldn't bury him

GOD Anon just stab me next time, it would be kinder. (Jk jk I love this actually, thank you for blessing me with it) I've never cried while writing something until now, so I hope you're proud of yourself. Somehow this ended up being 1.1k so it's going under a cut. <3 This one does not have a happy ending folks, it's all just Steve being sad at Eddie's grave.

Steve feels almost awkward as he stands before the makeshift grave. He says makeshift because- can it really be a proper grave when there's no body to inhabit it? When it's just a slab of stone with some words on it, marking an empty plot of land?

He doesn't think it does, but it will have to do, will have to be good enough to bear the weight of their grief.

He'd brought Dustin by earlier, had stood off a little ways as the kid sat and talked to the stone, just like he had watched Max do- God, last month. Just last month when they'd nearly lost little Red, and the thought of that is what kept him closer to Dustin, the latent paranoia clinging to him like a second skin at just the idea of it happening again.

But Dustin is fine. He'd talked to the rock for nearly half an hour before Steve drove him back home, left him with his mother and a crushing hug. And then Steve had- gone back.

It's only been a week since it's been set into place, a chunk of stone resting on solid ground that the others have all visited in turn, trying to turn their grief for their lost friend into words, trying to unload their emotions onto something tangible.

This is the first time Steve has been here alone, and he- he doesn't even know if he should be. He hadn't known Eddie, not like the boys had and- and maybe that's the problem. For the first time in his life, Steve feels like something has slipped through his fingers, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

He sits on the grass, cross-legged in front of the stone, and reaches out to brush his fingers over the granite.

"Um, hi Eddie. I know everyone else has kind of had their turn just, uh. Just sitting out here and talking to you. I know we weren't really friends, but- but I wanted-"

Steve frowns, his fingers press into the stone as his free hand clenches around nothing.

"I don't- I'm not great with- with words. Not like the way Dustin described you. Fucking wordsmith he called you, whatever- whatever that actually means. And that- that's what fucking sucks about this whole thing, is that I won't- I'll never get to see that in action myself. Dustin talked about you so much, always saying how great you are- were-"

The slip-up stops him cold, and he sniffs, brings his free hand up to rub at his nose and keeps the other firm against the headstone.

"I have this, uh, memory. Of you. Right after you transferred into Hawkins Middle, and you were just so quiet and- and you got picked on, of course, because you were new, you were a stranger. And then one day you jumped in front of Danny Matthews who was just going crazy on this 6th grader, and you-"

Steve stops to laugh wetly, the memory still so vivid, even to this day. "You fucking bit him, and you told him that you had rabies and he- he went fucking crying to the principal. You got in so much trouble, but from that day on you never let that stop you from standing up for other kids.

"I was thinking about that the other day. How I've known about you for years, but never interacted with you. I was always too worried about what people would say about me. You know, Dustin is the one who really, finally broke me out of that mindset. And yeah, okay, he was trying to talk me into dating Robin, but- He's right, that little shit. It doesn't fucking matter anymore.

"So when- when everything went down with you- When we found you, I kind of had that in the back of my mind, because you were- you were both the kid I admired and someone I didn't know at all. And then I got to spend that week getting to know you, like for real, and you were everything Dustin said and more, and now-"

He takes a shuddering breath and scrubs at his face, finally lifting his hand from the stone to wipe at the tears that are starting to fall.

"Now I have to remember you for longer than I've known you, and it's not- it's not fair, Eddie."

A sob rips through him unbidden, and the floodgates open with it. Steve curls in on himself as his chest heaves and he gasps into his hands. He speaks around it as best he can, needing to get the words out before he drains himself completely.

"It's not- it's not fair that you can just come in- into my life like a fucking whirlwind before just- just vanishing. You gave me just a fucking taste of what it's like to know you, and that- that's what I have to live with for the rest of my life."

Steve sobs into his hands as he thinks about the what ifs, the impossible possibilities that have plagued him for weeks since they were forced to leave Eddie's body behind in that absolute hellscape. The 'Maybe's and the 'I should have's and the 'If only's that have been growing and stewing inside of Steve finally take their chance to claw to the surface, ripping out of him in something that grows too close to hyperventilation, but he doesn't fight it.

He lets it happen, lets every little want and wish and regret flow through him here, lets them all drip down between his fingers to land on the gravestone of someone who should not be dead. Who should be alive and happy and with Steve. He cries for something he lost before he ever even got close to having it.

At the end of it all he feels hollow, like a deflated balloon that's been discarded, just waiting to be trampled on. And yet. He's also lighter, like something inside him has shaken loose and he's finally able to breathe freely for the first time in weeks.

He cleans his face on the sleeve of his jacket, makes a mental note to wash it when he gets home, and just. Looks down at the slab before him. It's pretty traditional, and Steve thinks Eddie might hate how boring it is, but it's enough for now. It has to be.

Steve presses a kiss to the tips of his fingers before he reaches down and brushes them against the marker, smiling softly at the "Son, Friend, Rockstar" that adorns the stone. "I'll be back next week, Eddie. See you then, okay?"

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

New post: "EDDIE REDMAYNE & GAYLE RANKIN BRING AUDIENCES INTO THE KIT KAT CLUB"

FRANK DILELLA | FEBRUARY 6, 2024.

Starting April 1, a hearty “Willkommen” awaits at the enticing and electrifying Kit Kat Club (a.k.a., the August Wilson Theatre) on 52nd Street on Broadway. The London transfer of the 2022 Olivier Award–winning revival of Cabaret is one of the most highly anticipated musicals of the spring season. Tony-winning actor Eddie Redmayne is set to reprise his performance of the Emcee, a role he won an Olivier for when he opened the show in the West End. He’ll be joined by actress Gayle Rankin, who is new to this production of Cabaret, taking on the show’s leading lady, Sally Bowles. Entertainment journalist for Spectrum News NY1 Frank DiLella caught up with both Redmayne and Rankin to talk their love of Cabaret and much more.

Eddie, congratulations on the Broadway transfer of this brilliant revival. How are you feeling knowing you’re once again taking on the Emcee in Cabaret?

EDDIE REDMAYNE: Thanks so much. Honestly, this is one of the pieces that made me fall in love with theater as a kid, so the fact that I got to play this iconic part on stage professionally in London was truly a bucket-list moment fulfilled. But when I was about 9 or 10, I became oddly obsessed with New York. London was home, but I was always looking at photographs of New York, researching the place. When I eventually came to the city and went to Times Square, it was one of those completely overwhelming sensations. I remember my whole body reacting. So the idea that I now get the chance to play this part in this show that I’m so passionate about in the mecca of musical theater — which is Broadway — is beautifully daunting and also 100 percent thrilling!

Gayle, Cabaret seems to be your show. You were part of the 2014 Roundabout revival with Alan Cumming — you played Fraulein Kost.

GAYLE RANKIN: I can’t tell you how moving it is to have worked on Cabaret a decade ago, and after lovingly letting it go, it’s come back to me with the gargantuan gift of Sally. [Laughs.] It is my show! I feel wildly privileged to be able to say that. I know I have to continue to earn that privilege because of what the show is and what it means. But I have never felt more ready to do that now, inside of this amazing production and with this incredible group of artists.

Eddie, when were you first introduced to Cabaret?

ER: I was first introduced to it when I was in school; I was around 15 or 16, and there was a little production being done at my school. And that was the first time I listened to the music. I remember hunting down all the possible CD versions I could find. I remember looking for a production to see, but there were none playing in London, so the very first production I ever saw of Cabaret was, randomly, the Spanish version in Madrid — and it was the Sam Mendes version, but in Spanish! I was 19 and completely blown away. Since then, I saw Emma Stone and Alan Cumming do it brilliantly in New York, and of course Rufus Norris’s version in London. I’m a sort of Cabaret junkie.

How about you, Gayle?

GR: The first time I was introduced to it was when I was in a musical-theater program in Scotland and one of the other young women had been given the song “Maybe This Time,” and I remember being like, “Wow! What a song!” That’s when I was introduced to Cabaret as a property.

Eddie, it’s my understanding that you were instrumental with making this production of Cabaret take shape.

ER: Ha! It’s been a long old road. After I did Cabaret in school in my late teens, there was an amateur production of Cabaret going to the Edinburgh Festival, and I got cast in that, and the venue that we were doing the show in was called The Underbelly. It was dark and damp and people were sitting around tables. I loved every minute, and it affirmed my want to be an actor. The guys who set up that venue became producers professionally and the Underbelly transformed to become a brilliant venue and producing house in the U.K. They approached me about seven years ago and asked if I would ever consider doing Cabaret again. It had always been on my bucket list, and I thought long and hard about it — as I said, it’s dream territory. Then Jessie Buckley leapt into my mind, who is an extraordinary actor and singer, and she and I plotted together. We both approached the brilliant director Rebecca Frecknall, and piece by piece this thing built momentum. But it had been done so beautifully and vividly before, we only wanted to do it if we could find a new way in, something that perhaps hadn’t been explored before.  And with Rebecca, the brilliant Tom Scutt, Julia Cheng, and Jordan Fein — our designer, choreographer, and prologue director — we took on this idea of inviting an audience through the underbelly of the theatre, taking them through this experience so by the time they arrive in the theatre, they’ve truly left all their troubles outside.

Eddie, you’re taking on one of the great roles of the musical theater, the Emcee, and I have to say, having seen you on stage in London, your Emcee is different compared to Joel Grey’s and Alan Cumming’s.

ER: I think one of the reasons he’s such an appealing part is because he’s one of the most enigmatic parts that I’ve ever read, witnessed, or experienced. The Emcee was a part that was created by Joel and Hal Prince [director of the original Cabaret] to join scenes together. He has no literary basis. So in some ways, the part exists in an abstract way. One of the things that I tried to do when I first started was I attempted to rationalize him and create a backstory. But the second you try to pin him down, he falls flat — he’s too quixotic for that. In the end it became trying to find a way into him physically and through instinct alone. It felt like a high-wire act. But a thrilling one.

Gayle, Sally Bowles is one of the great female roles in musical theater. Who is your Sally?

GR: My Sally is close to me. I think she’s only to be known truly by me. Sally can infamously live in a space where she can be pitied to people, and I don’t think that’s the whole story. There’s more to be told about her. And I feel compelled to take that on.

Do you feel that your experience of doing the 2014 Cabaret revival with Alan Cumming, where you played a Kit Kat Club girl and Fraulein Kost, prepped you for Sally?

GR: How could it not? For something to live inside of you both consciously and unconsciously — I hope I’ve evolved as a person and as an artist, and I feel like I’ve never been more ready to take Sally on. And I feel like I’m a big enough girl to admit the 2014 production — I was not in a place or was the right person to play Sally even though I had the time of my life with that show.

Sally gets some amazing musical moments. “Maybe This Time,” “Cabaret,” “Don’t Tell Mama” … Favorite tune in the show?

GR: It’s always been “I Don’t Care Much” [sung by the Emcee]. Sally’s songs are almost too meaningful; I can’t pick one, they’re like children. [Laughs.] But there’s something about “I Don’t Care Much” that’s so essential to the conversation and the story and lives inside of all those characters. This longing for hope during so much horror. That song just moves me.

Gayle, take me to your opening night, when you take your bow as Sally Bowles.

GR: [Laughs.] Frank! What a question. Now I’m crying. My niece will be there, and she’s 12, and I’ll probably be looking at her. I’ll probably be tired. [Laughs.] I think I’m going to be really happy.

This show is quite the experience. Give a little preview of what New York audiences can expect once they enter the Kit Kat Club.

ER: I can’t paint that picture for you just yet because it’s in the process of being built and designed by Tom Scutt. Tom Scutt is one of the most thrilling creative minds I’ve had the privilege to work with. What his plans are for New York are completely captivating. The idea is that you’re brought in as an audience not through the conventional way of the theatre — you’re met by an entire prologue cast of dancers and musicians. You are submerged into the world of Cabaret from the second you pass the threshold. For me, I hope it makes the experience — you will feel like you’re part of an all-consuming event. You will also get to witness Gayle’s Sally — Gayle is a volcano of talent — Bebe Neuwirth’s Fraulein Schneider, Ato Blankson-Wood’s Cliff, Steven Skybell’s Schultz. A staggering ensemble — the list goes on. So many exciting things.

Eddie, you’re following in the footsteps of two celebrated actors who played the role of the Emcee: Joel Grey and Alan Cumming. Any interaction with them?

ER: I haven’t with Alan since I’ve played it. I met Alan in Los Angeles years ago and he’s just an extraordinary talent. Joel, I had never met, but then I got through the first act of Cabaret on opening night in London, and at the interval some flowers arrived and I opened the card and it was from Joel Grey. And in the midst of our opening night show, opening his generous card was one of the great moments.

I was so haunted by this production when I saw it in London. The time feels right to see and experience Cabaret.

ER: There is something so searingly relevant with this piece. And I feel like whenever Cabaret is being done, it’s relevant. But with what’s going on in the world today, I feel like it’s a cautionary tale — it sings loudly and clear and it’s this idea of the fear of the other. The political gain of “othering” people. And that constant repetition of scapegoating and hatred is what we’re seeing in our politics now.

GR: I’m not sure what John Kander and Fred Ebb and Joe Masteroff were channeling when they were writing this — they were able to tap into something that’s so cyclical. And as a humanity, I think we all hope that Cabaret becomes not as relevant as it is.

---

[rainbowinthedark98]

Chapter 2: Come Crawling

Chapter 1

Eddie had been watching from the woods the past two nights as Steve sat stone-faced on the long lounge chair, smoking a joint and dozing off. Steve had been good about putting the joint out before getting comfortable, but tonight he’d dozed off quickly after taking more hits than usual. The joint smoldered between Steve’s fingers, the cherry becoming precarious over his hand. Eddie quickly closed the distance between them, and snatched the joint from Steve’s hand. He stubbed the joint out on the ground, and quickly retreated. His new supernatural speed and agility allowed him to complete this feat in a matter of moments. Steve shot up, looking confused by the stubbed out joint. He then shuffled into the house, swaying lightly. 

Now, Steve snored lightly on the sofa where he was sprawled. Eddie clucked his tongue at the boy. “First you fall asleep with a lit joint, and now you fall asleep with the door wide open with an open gate in your backyard? Stevie, Stevie, Stevie.” Steve mumbled in his sleep, turning toward Eddie. “Morning, Big Boy,” he said, and Steve’s eyes opened drowsily. 

“Eddie? No, tha’s not right. Eddie’s gone. We weren’t fast enough. I’m dreaming,” Steve mumbled, rubbing his face and talking himself through the facts like he’d been doing for the last year.

“Sorry, Stevie, I may be the man of your dreams, but I am no dream. I’m here, and I need your help,” Eddie said, leaning over the back of the couch to stare down at Steve. He grinned, and Steve’s now wide-open eyes immediately zeroed in on the sharp fangs Eddie’s smile now showcased. Steve screamed. Eddie sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Wha- what is going on?” Steve fell off the couch, and stood quickly, holding his hands in front of himself defensively. “Y-you were dead! We checked! And then when we went back for you, you were gone! We had a memorial, man! How? How are you here right now?” Steve demanded, becoming hysterical. 

“I was dead. Those bats did a number on me. Bled me out. But as it turns out, those bats had a venom in their fangs. I-”

“But I didn’t grow fangs! They tore me up too!” Steve interrupted.

“As I was saying, I died with their venom in my blood. Which is how I woke up with my new pearly whites and a sun allergy,” Eddie explained, exasperated. “Which brings me to you, Big Boy. I-“ Eddie was once again interrupted when Steve started crying. Actual sobs, giant tears rolling down his cheeks. “Hey, hey it’s okay, I-“ 

“So, what? You’re a goddamn vampire now? Is that what you’re telling me right now?” Steve demanded, and began pacing the living room. “You’ve been alive for a year? A fucking year! And now you’re a vampire, and- wait. D-do you… are you going to” Steve mimed a pair of fangs with his fingers and stabbed them toward his jugular. 

“If you would stop interrupting me for a minute, I’ll tell you what’s going on!” Eddie exclaimed, flopping onto the now-vacant couch. “Sit!” He ordered, and Steve immediately sat on the very edge of the recliner. “Yes, I am a vampire now. Yes, I drink blood to survive. No, I don’t kill people to do it. Don’t look at me like that, Harrington. You’ve got no idea of the hell I’ve gone through in the last year.” Steve quickly schooled his judgmental expression. Eddie was right, Steve had no idea what the past year had been like for Eddie.

“When I woke up in the street, all I knew was that I was so thirsty it hurt. I rolled over, and I was in a puddle of my own blood. I’d never smelled anything so good. I- I’m ashamed to say that I licked the fucking pavement. And then those goddamn bats showed up. I was so fucking scared, man. But they didn’t attack me. Just stared at me, like they were waiting on me. I was so thirsty, and my teeth hurt. I- I um, I grabbed a bat. It only struggled a little, but the others just watched while I drank its blood.” Eddie shuddered. “And then I was in excruciating pain, like I was biting myself. I let the bat go, and it just rejoined the group. 

“I didn’t know what to do, so I just kind of wandered around, and everywhere I went, the bats followed. Then, a few bats would take off, and when they came back, they were carrying small rodents from the Upside Down. They dropped them at my feet like offerings. I- when I drank them, it didn’t hurt. I drained like ten of those little creatures. My throat didn’t hurt so bad after that.” Eddie paused. “You okay, Harrington? Looking a little green around the gills,” Eddie asked. Steve looked sick. “Sorry. Fewer details from now on, promise.” When Steve nodded, Eddie continued. 

“As I kept walking, I felt stronger, faster. I could see everything. Before, I needed glasses. Never got any, but I knew I needed them. But now, I can see so far, all the little details. I can see each hair on your head from over here.” Eddie’s eyes became fixed on Steve for a moment before exhaling with a breathy laugh. ”Anyway. I kept walking through the Upside Down. Then I was attacked by this huge, nasty-looking dog-thing. Thought I was a goner for sure, but when it lunged for me, the bats swarmed it. Tore it to shreds, then dropped it at my feet. I flinched, and said, “I don’t want it. Get it away from me.” And Steve, they did. They all picked this beast up, and flew away with it, and when they came back, it was gone. They listened, Steve. Like I was their commander, or something.”

Steve slowly raised his hand like he was in class. Eddie chuckled, and nodded. “Yes, Steve?”

“The bats, they’re not here, right? Like they’re not in Hawkins, are they?” There was so much fear in Steve’s quavering voice. 

“No, Steve. Don’t worry, they’re safely tucked away in the Upside Down, waiting for me to come back,” Eddie assured him. Somehow, Steve’s face became even paler.

“You’re going back?” Steve croaked, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes. “You- you’ve been gone for a year, and you were just going to pop in, say “hi,” and disappear again?” Steve demanded, eyes full of sorrow and rage.

“I’m here because I need your help, Steve,” Eddie sighed, his gaze on the beige carpet. “The more I feed on the creatures in the Upside Down, the less human I feel. Like I’m losing myself. I was half-feral when I crawled through the gate in your pool. Luckily you weren’t out there when I did. I really did a number on the local fauna around here. The more I’ve fed on animals here, the more I felt like myself. My heart started beating again, Steve.” Steve was startled when Eddie was suddenly in front of him, grabbing his hand and holding it to his chest. Sure enough, Steve could feel Eddie’s heart beating, although markedly slower than his own racing heart. 

“What do you need me to do?” Steve whispered, looking directly into Eddie’s brown eyes, which now had scarlet rings encircling the irises.

***

“I wish this was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” Steve muttered as he spray-painted the small windows in the basement black. He and Eddie were working to sun-proof the basement so that he wouldn’t be burned to death in his sleep. 

“Hey man, at least we don’t have to drag a coffin down here. As cool as that would be, I’m glad it’s not a real requirement for vampires,” Eddie joked as he slid the pool table into a corner with ease. Steve’s face became grim at the thought of seeing Eddie in a coffin. “Sorry,” Eddie apologized softly. 

“It’s alright, just too real, you know?” Steve replied, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “That should do it. Let’s go get the bed frame.”

“We can just put the mattress down, you don’t have to do all that,” Eddie began to argue.

Steve’s fists were on his hips when he turned to look at him. “Eddie, you’ve been sleeping god only knows where in the Upside Down for a year. The least I can do is bring a bedframe down here for you. Especially since you’re sleeping in the basement.” There was no arguing with Steve when he assumed the power stance. Eddie held up his hands in surrender, and followed Steve up the basement stairs, and into the first floor guest room.

Eddie let out a low whistle at the elegantly decorated beige room. It was spotless, and looked like no one had ever slept in it. “Entertain a lot of guests?” he chuckled, and Steve scoffed.

“Yeah right, my mom created this whole house from a freaking catalog. I grew up in a museum where I couldn’t touch anything, and wasn't allowed to sit on the sofa… stupid.” Steve had his fists on his hips again, and after a few moments with his eyes closed, he let out a huge sigh. Then he began stripping the unwrinkled bedding off the bed. Eddie moved beside him, and they flipped the full size mattress and boxspring up, revealing the black metal frame. Together, they hoisted the frame and moved toward the door. “Shit. This won’t fit through the door, it’s too tall. I’ll be right back,” Steve said, and began walking down the hall. Eddie followed, and Steve was startled when Eddie was suddenly by his side.

“Sorry, I’ve pretty much been alone for the last year,” the brunette mumbled, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink, which made Steve’s brain short circuit a little.

“Oh, yeah, makes sense,” Steve said, and bumped his shoulder against Eddie’s. The duo then made their way into the attached garage, and Steve immediately went to a perfectly organized tool bench, which looked as though it had only been used a few times. “Shit, did you happen to see what kind of bolts were in that frame?” Steve asked, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“Uhh… I think they were like hexagons or something like that, Eddie said, drawing the shape in the air with his finger. “Like the ones that take the ‘L’ shaped tools?”

“Allen wrench!” Steve exclaimed proudly, snapping his finger into a finger gun at Eddie, who laughed at Steve’s exuberance. Steve moved to the toolbox under the workbench. After a bit of drawer opening, he held the pack of tools aloft in victory. Eddie’s chest warmed at the sight, and when Steve saw the soft smile on Eddie’s face, he found himself blushing furiously. Steve coughed, and quickly turned and went back into the house, and to the guest room.

It took a few tries to find the correct size tool, but once they did, the frame was quickly taken apart into two smaller, more manageable pieces, which they each carried down to the finished basement. Once the frame was put back together, Steve carried the boxspring, and Eddie carried the heavier, more unwieldy mattress down to the basement. A few more trips later, Eddie had his own bedroom set up, complete with fresh bedding, a nightstand with a lamp, and the boombox from Steve’s room.

Eddie flopped down onto the full size mattress, his feet hanging over the side. Steve flopped down beside him, and sighed. Then he immediately shot back up and onto his feet. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, in a defensive stance. “What?” Eddie demanded, eyes darting around the basement for a threat. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Sorry. I just remembered something. I’ll be right- actually, come with me,” Steve said, and Eddie rolled his eyes but relaxed anyway. Eddie followed Steve up the stairs to the second floor, and into Steve’s room. “Sit down and close your eyes,” he directed Eddie, who did as he was told, a sly smile on his face.

“Harrington, are you trying to seduce me or stake me?” he laughed, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up.” Steve laughed as he dug a box out from under his bed. He set the box in Eddie’s lap, and sat down beside him. “Okay, open it.”

Eddie opened his eyes, and carefully removed the lid from the white shoebox. Inside, carefully packed in alphabetical order, were all of Eddie’s cassettes. Some of the cases were cracked, but Steve had painstakingly taped them with clear tape. Eddie opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. 

“I um, I went back for them, after we couldn’t find you,” Steve explained sheepishly, cheeks burning. “Wayne has your guitar, and-” his words were cut off abruptly when Eddie wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Eddie choked out the words, eyes stinging with tears. When he tried to pull back, Steve held him even tighter. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back. I- I knew I was a monster. I couldn’t bear the thought of coming back and not being in control of myself. Of hurting Wayne. Or the kids. Or you,” he whispered the last bit, When Steve pulled back to look at his face, Eddie’s eyes were full of pink tears. “Don’t mind the bloody tears,” he choked out a laugh. “I don’t drink much water these days, anymore, so….” Steve nodded in understanding, and gently wiped the tears from Eddie’s face.

As they stared into one another’s eyes, Steve’s watch began beeping, breaking their trance. “Sun will be up in twenty minutes. Why don’t you go shower, and then you can get some rest,” Steve said, standing up from the bed. At Eddie’s nod, he began gathering some clean clothes for Eddie to sleep in, then went to the closet outside the bathroom, where he pulled out a towel, washcloth, and a new toothbrush. Eddie followed behind to the bathroom. “I’ll be right outside the door,” he assured Eddie as he closed the bathroom door. 

The water turned on a moment later, and another moment later, Steve heard Eddie let out a groan. “God, I missed hot water.” Steve slumped against the wall, and rubbed his face, then pinched his arm. The painful sting assured Steve that Eddie Munson really was not only alive (sort of), but he was currently showering a mere ten feet away. 

Steve’s watch beeped again, indicating that there was only five minutes before sunrise. The water cut off as Steve’s fist was a centimeter from knocking on the door. Eddie opened the door a moment later, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, hair rolled up in the towel on his head. He finished brushing his teeth, then towel-dried his curly hair before hanging the towel on the empty hook next to Steve’s towel. A huge yawn escaped Eddie’s lips, putting his fangs on full display. “Guess it’s bedtime,” he laughed, and Steve nodded.

“It is. Let’s get you downstairs before you turn extra crispy on me,” Steve chuckled.

“Why? Don’t think I’d be finger-licking good?” Eddie retorted, but his eyes immediately widened at the accidental double entendre. Stevechoked, laughing in shock. The whole exchange left them both blushing. Eddie cleared his throat, and turned to walk downstairs. Which is when Steve noticed that the sweatshirt he’d grabbed was actually his old basketball sweatshirt that had “HARRINGTON” written across the shoulders. Seeing Eddie in his clothes was already doing weird things to his brain, but seeing his last name on Eddie? His brain short-circuited. He managed to snap out of it, and followed Eddie down.

Eddie had already turned on the lamp, so Steve turned off the overhead light in the basement. Eddie crawled into the bed, getting comfortable before letting out a contented sigh. When Steve sat on the end of the bed, his brown eyes slid open. “Thank you, Steve. For… everything. I know this is a lot to take in, and I appreciate you so fucking much,” Eddie said, stifling a yawn.

“I thought you were gone for a year, Eds. Giving you a place to stay is not a big deal. If I would have known you were still alive out there, I would have-” 

“Been torn apart. By me or god only knows what. You kept living, like you were supposed to,” Eddie interrupted, voice quiet but fierce.

Steve was staring at his hands in his lap. “Speaking of things we’re supposed to do, I distinctly remember telling you not to be a hero. I-” Steve’s words were cut off by the beeping of his watch, which was accompanied a moment later by Eddie’s soft snores. His gaze softened, looking at the sleeping man. Sighing, Steve pulled the covers up to Eddie’s chin, then inspected the windows to make sure no sunlight was finding away inside. Then Steve settled into the leather armchair, and closed his eyes.

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch. 3 (ronance fic)

this is chapter 3 of an ongoing fic, you can find all previous chapters here. 

word count: 2,310

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After soundcheck Robin made her way back to the dressing room areas. She needed to drink water and ice her wrists with what little time she had left. She knocked on the first dressing room door, hoping Steve would be inside. 

“Come in,” she had heard his voice from the other side. 

Relief flooded through her just at the sound of her best friend's voice. She pushed the door open and groaned. As she shuffled into the room, Eddie was already holding a bottle of water out for her. She grabbed it thankfully and plopped down on the couch next to Steve. “Well, how’d it go?” He asked. 

Robin waited until she had drunk almost half the water before answering. Trying to decide what to say. “It went well. I wasn’t expecting Nancy Wheeler to be there. Why didn’t you say that?”

“Well, I just know tensions used to be high between the two of you. I was afraid you might turn the offer down had I told you beforehand.”

Robin cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked Nancy. Sure, we may have not been compatible friends back in the day but.. I’ve always respected her as a person and not to mention she’s a hell of a writer.”

Eddie lifted his water, “Cheers to that.”

“It was nice though. Nancy asked me questions that mattered and that were centered around what I had to offer to men. It was a really good environment. I fear the pictures might look… Well, I don’t know.” She looked in the large mirror across from them. The lipstick didn’t look bad. She didn’t look bad. “Okay, fine. I look great. But, I just feel like posing is hard. I probably look like a stiff board.”

Steve laughed then patted Robin’s knee. Robin’s thoughts drifted back to the last question Nancy had asked her. “What do you guys think about me coming out?”

Steve tilted his head but it was Eddie who spoke first, “To who?”

“Like everyone?”

Robin could feel her cheeks heating, “It was just an idea. I just thought maybe,” she started but paused to hear any protests. But they both were silent and listening closely. “Well, you know the point of this is to like, be a role model right? Women for women and such. It’s important for young girls and women to have women in all industries they can look up to.”

“Okay, go on,” Steve encouraged. 

“But, what about queer women? Like sure there’s representation with me doing an article cursing the patriarchy but what about what coming out could do? I just think of someone who was like me. Young, confused and just wanting someone to look to. I just-” she choked. Why was it so hard to say? “I just think coming out could give hope to people out there. Not just gay women, but anyone in our community. I’m just afraid of opinions.”

“Opinions of who? We already know your gay, babes,” Eddie said. 

“Well, what about Nancy? Will she even publish a story focused on a gay woman?”

Robin bit her nail but Steve smacked her hand away from her mouth. “We just painted those.  But, no? Why would Nancy care?”

“Well, because, well-” But Robin had nothing to add to that. Of course an all woman magazine would be progressive. 

“I think you’re more scared of yourself than anyone. Why?” Eddie asked. 

Robin rolled her eyes. She hated when Eddie spoke deeply and started making sense. “I’m not scared.”

“Really? You’ve only ever had one girlfriend and you wouldn't even bring her on a double date.”

Robin threw up a hand, Steve had no right to bring that up. “I was young! I’ve been busy. I’m not dating because I don’t want to. I just can’t right now. I’m focusing on this band, obviously.”

Eddie and Steve exchanged a silent look and Robin groaned. She hated when they spoke with their minds. “Nevermind, just forget it.” 

She stood up and grabbed an extra water. Before she made it to the door Steve stopped her, “Robs. You know we are proud of you no matter what. We will always support you and stand behind your decision. You can come out in this article or months down the road. Don’t ever ask us how you should do it. We are standing behind you no matter how.”

Robin’s chin quivered and she nodded, “I know that. I love you guys and I’m very thankful for you both. I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll know after the show.”

Robin followed the hall down to where she knew dressing room ‘C’ was located. She tapped on the door twice and pushed it open before hearing a response. Gareth was sitting on the sofa, tapping drumsticks against a practice pad. He looked up and smiled, “Oh hey, Bubs. How did the interview go?” 

Robin took a seat beside Gareth and sighed dramatically. She laid her head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her. She couldn’t remember when Gareth had given her the nickname but it had been years of him using it. Their practice sessions had led to them becoming very close. He was practically her best friend after Steve. “It wasn’t bad, was it?” 

“No, no. It was fine! Nancy Wheeler was actually the person interviewing me.” 

“At least you knew someone. Did they take photos?” 

Robin nodded, “They did. I felt sort of silly alone but I think it’ll be okay. The work they’re doing is great.” 

“That’s good, I know how much it means to you.” 

That was true. Robin was very grateful for all of her bandmates. On more than one occasion they had stood with her, signs held high at different protests. Not only gender equality protests but also LGBT protests. “I think it’s going to be good. Nancy is a phenomenal writer.” 

“One of the best,” he agreed. Robin notes his silence and he knew he was thinking of her article she wrote for Eddie. Truly she deserved a large portion of credit when it came to Eddie’s name being cleared. 

The door swung open quickly and Nancy’s head popped in. Her eyes went big, “Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I just missed something but,” Nancy looked down at her notes, her brows furrowing. “Uhm, I’ll just find you after the show.” 

She turned and shut the door behind before Gareth or Robin could respond. “That was weird. Maybe go talk to her?” He suggested. 

Robin debated it for a moment then stood up, letting out a small sigh. She exited the room and saw Nancy standing at the end of the hallway. She held the notepad in her hands but was looking straight forward at the wall. “Uh, Nancy? What did you miss?” 

“Oh! Oh, uhm,” she paused. She looked down at the notes and sighed, “Nevermind. I had read it wrong, I thought I missed half of the answer to the growing up question but I drew an arrow to the margin and for some reason I missed that.” She inhaled, “Sorry I stormed in. I didn’t mean to interrupt your privacy. Steve just told me where to find you and,” she shook her head then smiled. “Please tell Gareth I’m sorry.” 

Robin raised an eyebrow. Nancy was acting like she had walked in on something scandalous. “Oookay. It’s not like either of us were offended. He was just asking me about the interview.” Robin took another step toward Nancy, “You said you’re going to stay for the show?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Steve said it was fine and I wanted to take some notes to maybe have some stuff to fluff up your article. Is that okay?” 

“Do whatever you want,” Robin gave a smile then thought again about what she had discussed with Steve and Eddie. “How long does it take to run an article?” 

“Well, we’re hoping we get this one bumped to the issue that drops in two weeks but it really depends on the printers. It may be next month's issue.” 

“Okay, cool. Does that mean we could change some things around?” 

Nancy raised an eyebrow, tucking her notepad under her arm. “Like what?” She smoothed her shirt down and Robin noticed now she was wearing a short gray skirt, almost the color of her shorts. “Was there something you didn’t like?” 

“Oh, no! Everything was great! I just feel like I could have answered one of the questions differently. You know,” Robin paused to take a breath. Her chest felt funny as the internal debate with herself started again. What would the outcome of this be? Would it have the impact she thought? And why did she feel the need to have validation? “Maybe I’m just overthinking stuff. Everything was great.”

Robin rocked back on her heels and Nancy looked at her curiously. She needed to change the subject so she clapped her hands together. “Have you ever been onstage before a show? The doors open soon but we have enough time to take a tour. Would you be interested?” 

Nancy’s face cracked into a smile and she nodded, “Yes! That would be perfect!” 

“Come on,” Robin motioned for Nancy to follow her. 

They walked through the hall staying silent, Robin was unsure of what to say. It was nice though, she has to admit. Being around someone from her past and a woman at that. 

As they approached the black curtains that separated them from the stage Robin quickened her step to go and hold them open for Nancy. 

Nancy stepped out on the stage slowly with Robin following. She turned taking in the whole venue. “Holy shit,” she said almost breathlessly. “It always seems so big when you’re out in the crowd but seeing it from this angle?” 

Robin watched Nancy as she stepped towards the middle of the stage. With the overhanging light above, Robin could see the colors she had added to her hair better. There were blonde streaks but also reddish brown ones. “This many people? All around America? Incredible.” 

The room had an upper balcony seating with back of house seating in the back as well. The pit stretched to the seats in the back making the venue able to accommodate nearly five thousand people. Tonight was a sold out show. One of the largest they’ve played. 

Robin took her usual seat at the drum kit, “London. Mexico. Brazil. We’ve been a little bit of everywhere now.” 

Nancy shook her head as she turned to look at Robin. “That’s so crazy. It seems like just yesterday we were still in Hawkins. Now you’re on planes, touring the world.” 

“Plans suck. The worst. I have to be medicated just to step on one.” 

Nancy chuckled, “Really? I don’t think they’re that bad. I kind of like being that high up. It’s nice looking down at the world.” 

Robin shook her head, “You’re bonkers. I can’t even look out the window when I’m on one.”

She laughed softly before sitting at the edge of the platform Robin’s drums were on. She stared out at the empty room for a long moment before Robin saw her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I’m really proud of you and the rest of the guys. It’s so crazy, don’t you think?” She turned to look at Robin and the light caught the glitter in her eyeshadow, “You guys started playing music and now you’re doing it. You’re living out people’s dreams.” 

Robin nodded, “You are too. I mean, you always wanted to write, right? And I mean, all those times you were dismissed and made to be a secretary? Now look at you! You own your own magazine and employee only women. That’s so fucking bad ass.” 

Nancy’s cheeks turned pink and she nodded, “I think we both turned out pretty badass.” 

“Doors in five!” A security guard shouted toward the stage from the back of the room. 

Robin gave a thumbs up, hopping off the platform. She offered a hand to Nancy to help her up. Nancy pulled herself using Robin for support. “Thanks for showing me this. It was super neat.” 

“Are you going to watch to watch the show from side stage?” Robin led them back behind the curtain and towards the dressing room areas once again. 

“Well, I actually got Steve to agree to an all access pass. I’m going to watch from the barricade.” 

“Nancy Wheeler,” Robin said in sort of shocked but delightful tone. “I did not take tour for a barricade kinda girl.” 

Nancy made a snorting noise, “Okay, one thing about me? I love live shows. Another thing? Stepping Stones to Hell? Favorite song ever.” 

Robin felt a small bulb of pride fill her chest. Gareth had actually written that song with Eddie. It was her favorite to play because she had an extended drum solo while the rest of the group paused for water. “Well, Wheeler, that just happens to be the best song we play live.” 

The two them entered a room where there were more snacks and refreshments. They both took a water then sat down across from one another at a table. “Are you supposed to have favorites? Isn’t that biased?” 

“I think you’ll know why after you see it tonight.” 

“Alright then, looking forward to it.” 

“As fun as this has been, if you want barricade you better be getting down there. It’s going to fill in quick once the doors open.” 

She stood, finishing off her water then bowing her head slightly. “Thank you for the advice. Im looking forward to your show.” 

“At least you know it’s mine and not the guys,” Robin said jokingly. 

Nancy shook her head with laughter, waving at Robin before hurrying out the door. 

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Don’t Tell Me,You Didn’t Know: Eddie Vedder

Eddie Vedder Masterlist 

word count: 1k

description: Just your basic friends to lovers situation. You and Eddie both like each other more than friends but then there’s a miscommunication that almost ruins things between you.

Venus sighed as she took a sip of her drink, not even sure why she was here at this party as she watched Eddie and some girl flirt with each other. She had been in love with Eddie since they met and had somewhat thought that he might like her back until of late he had been talking to more girls and going out on dates more and it was killing her.

"Hey what are you doing over here by yourself?" Chris asked standing in front of her.

Chris was both her and Eddie's friend, who had introduced the two when Eddie moved to Seattle and he knew how much the two idiots liked each other and wish that one of them would just confess so he could stop hearing about how much the other is in love with the other.

"Planning my escape." She said making him laugh until he realized that she wasn't laughing.

"Oh because of what's happening over there?" Chris asked tilting his head towards where Eddie and his newest girl were.

"Yeah, something like that." She said quietly as she took the last swing of her drink.

"Come on I'll take you home." Chris offered wrapping an arm around her knowing how heartbroken she must be right now.

The two of them made their way out of the party and out to Chris's car where he dropped her off first and then drove a few houses down to where he lived. Venus let out a sigh as she entered her house and kicked off her shoes before heading upstairs to get some sleep.

The next morning Venus shut her alarm off and got ready for her shift at the record store where she prayed that Eddie wasn't today. She had just finished putting her boots on when she heard a honk letting her know that he was here, so she grabbed her bag and made her way outside to his car.

"Morning loser." She said climbing into his car.

"Morning ugly." He said making her laugh as they drove to the record store.

Venus was in her office working on the flyers for the store's newest release when she heard a knock on her door made her look up and see Eddie the very man she had hoped to avoid today.

"Hey sweetheart, missed you at the party last night." He said making Venus heartbreak, did he really not see her at all?

"I was there for three hours, which you've known had but you were busy with other things, if you don't believe me ask Chris or stone because they all came up and talked to me while I was there." She said bitterly.

"You were?" He asked shocked because he didn't see her at all.

"Yeah but like I said you were busy and that's fine. So if you don't need anything, I need to get back to work."  She said getting irritated with Eddie.

"Are we okay sweetheart?" He asked as she sighed feeling her true emotions threatening to spill out but thank god Chris came to save the day and got Eddie back to work.

After that day, Venus purposefully changed her schedule so that her and Eddie wouldn't work together, and she kinda stopped hanging out with the guys but as soon as they found out they would come to hang out with her without Eddie. Meanwhile, Eddie was missing her a lot and he couldn't figure out why she was pulling away from him, so he went to Chris knowing he had to know what was going on with their friend.

"You seriously have no idea?" Chris asked him confused as Eddie shook his head no.

"Dude you went from being in love with her and flirting with her 24/7 to going out and bringing new girls back and ignoring her. She's hurt because I had put in a good word that you actually liked her like that and then you go and do that." Chris said as Eddie's eyes widen.

"She likes me back?" Eddie asked shocked.

"Yeah, didn't you know? Come on you had to know she gets all smiley and heart eyes when she's with you and I've had to hear about you and how wonderful you are and how you might or might not love her. Seriously dude I can't believe you didn't know. " Chris said making Eddie smile thinking that Venus actually said those things and that you liked him back this whole time.

"The whole reason I started dating and bringing other girls around, is because I didn't think she liked me back in that way. Oh god I've screwed up so bad." Eddie said groaning into his hands.

"No you haven't. Look let's run to the store and grab her some flowers and I'll drop you off at her house and you can talk to her and be honest with her about everything." Chris said squeezing his friends shoulder sympathetically.

The two of them climbed into Chris's car and drove to the florist which earned them some looks but the florist came over and helped Eddie make the most beautiful arrangement to convey how he felt about Venus.

"Alright now, just go in there and be honest with her. You got this bro!" Chris said hyping his friend up.

Venus groaned as she heard someone knock on the door for the second time. She set her paintbrush down and paused her music before walking down the hall to answer the door, shocked to see Eddie on the other side with flowers.

"Hi Ed's." She said.

"Hi sweetheart, I got these for you. I was hoping we could talk about what's been going with us." He said nervously as Venus looked over his shoulder and Chris encouraging her to say yes.

"Uh thanks and sure thing. Come in." She said stepping aside so he could walk in as she waved Chris off.

"So what did you want to talk about Eddie?" She asked taking a seat in the couch next to him.

"Us. Sweetheart I need to be honest with you, I've been in love with you since Chris introduced us but didn't know how to tell you without scaring you off even when you were apparently flirting with me according to Chris which is why I started being the girls around hoping to get my mind off of you but it never worked. Sweets I'm in love with you." Eddie said as Venus hear swelled at his confession.

"You are? Your not just saying that because Chris told you how I felt about you?" She said nervously.

"I'm not, you sweetheart have been haunting my mind for the past six months and I hope that I haven't ruined my chance with you." He said squeezing her hand.

"You haven't Ed's. I really like you too and would very much like to see where this goes." She said to him.

"I like that too sweetheart, can I kiss you?" He asked as she nodded her head and soon felt his lips on hers.

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 6]

Birds Of a Feather

Look who Monty the cat dragged in! Hope you guys are fine and are gonna enjoy this, let us know what you think about it ✨

(In the previous chapter: despite their mutual attraction, Layla and Eddie decided to spend some time together in a platonic way; Stone wasn’t able to make Sara come out from the bathroom but has instead confessed her his feelings; Jeff has seen his bandmate go inside the bathroom and he knows Stone is with Sara, but what he doesn’t know is that the two of them are making out)

Seattle, 31st December 1984

“Here you are! Thought you had deserted us�� Sara snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Jeff’s voice coming from behind: she turned around as he was already strolling in her direction, and she immediately felt her mouth dry. “I’m sorry, I-I came here to get some fresh air – I thought I was about to faint inside” the girl stammered, pointing at the room where It’s My Life was playing out loud “The balcony seemed like a clever idea” “It was, just like me bringing you some fruit punch” Jeff grinned, handing her a red cup that she gladly took. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you” “No problem” he went to sit on the railing, next to where now Sara was chewing the edge of her paper cup “Penny for your thoughts?” “Just a silly recollection…” the tips of her ears instantly reddened “You’d make fun of me” “I would never! I won’t, I promise” “Well, I was thinking about last New Year’s Eve, wondering how I spent it” “And…?” “... and I just realized it was probably me still crying because Dennis Wilson had died a couple of days before” she rested her elbows on the railing, then leaned her cheek on a hand “You know, Beach Boys’ drummer? And a year later I’m at a party, but I fled to the balcony because inside there’s too many people I don’t know… so yeah, a year may have passed but I’m still socially awkward, ugh” “Hey, I wouldn’t call ‘socially awkward’ someone who’s having zero problems chatting with a guy she’s known for seven months” “What, you’ve been counting or something?” she smirked at him, her voice showing amusement at his corniness. “Every single day” “Oh, shush” the girl immediately flushed, and Jeff couldn’t help but grin triumphantly because she was trying so hard not to smile but the half dimple on the right corner of her mouth said otherwise. “No, but seriously – you’re doing great” he was quick to make himself clear “I mean, you said it yourself: going to a party full of people you don’t know, with other people you barely know? In my book you sound like a total badass” “You think so?” “I do” he looked her in the eye “But that doesn’t mean that last year you were an utter loser because you spent New Year’s Eve crying over some dead musician… sounds like he meant a great deal to you”   “He does, yeah” “I know my Brian Wilson and my Mike Love,” he began, while she frowned at the last person mentioned “but the other members… not so much, I’m afraid – except for the drummer’s association with Manson, obviously” “Yeah, I guess that’s public domain” Sara wrinkled her nose “Well, Dennis was the first one in the band to come out with a solo project, which I think has to be one of the saddest albums ever… still beautiful, though I haven’t been able to listen again to it after last year” “Understandable” “And he also made a movie with James Taylor that I have yet to watch but my father tells me it’s great – kind of a road-movie, made in the early ‘70s” “Sounds like something I’d like” “I think so too; he also wrote some pretty cool songs for the band, but he was obviously overshadowed by his brother” she sighed “Anyway, it’s all over now so I guess it doesn’t matter anymore” “It matters to you, that’s what’s important” She adjusted her scarf, avoiding his glance, then abruptly changed topic: “I listened to your tape” The bassist almost lost his balance but was able to recover at the last second: “Yeah? Verdict?” “You should seriously start to listen to some good ol’ folk, you can’t live just with punk music” “... that’s your feedback?!” this time he had begun to fall backwards, so he wisely jumped off the railing. “Yeah, that’s it” “Uhm, I-I guess I can see your point, but I also put Bowie and Beth by KISS! C’mon, you can’t tell me they’re punk, that’s-” “Honestly? That’s the sweetest thing somebody has ever done for me – and my dad is a worthy opponent in this competition, but you beat him anyway” the girl winked at him “You could have made a Barry Manilow compilation and I would have appreciated it all the same, because in any case it would have been something you made thinking of me” “Woah, I-uhm… thank you? I mean-” “Anyway, I need to lend you some tapes that I think are fundamental in the education of a person – especially for a musician like yourself” Sara kept on talking, then noticed he was giving her a funny look “What, what did I say?” “Nothing, just… I’m happy you liked it, I was hoping the tape could make you understand what you mean to me” Even though her feet were on the ground, the girl was still able to trip over an invisible obstacle. “Errrrr, thank God I didn’t drink the vodka they offered us before, otherw-” she babbled, but was interrupted by Jeff moving closer. “... Wanna go out with me?” “Like, right now? We shouldn’t ditch the others, it wouldn’t be f-” “No, silly!” the guy chuckled, the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes instantly giving her butterflies in her stomach “I agree with you, right now it would be really improper: wanna do this next week?” “You’re… serious” “Why shouldn’t I be? We can go to the movies and then grab something to eat” “Just the two of us?” “Unless you want that pain in the ass of Stone to tag along” he joked, trying to ignore the annoying thought of his friend being the third wheel. No words came out Sara’s mouth, so the guy panicked. “... you know what, I didn’t want to mess this up – just forget it” he dismissed the previous idea with frantic gestures of his hands “I’m sorry I embarrassed you, I-” “I’d love to” the girl had come closer and taken his hands in hers “I’m sorry if I made you believe I didn’t wanna go out with you, I just… I’m surprised you invited me, that’s all” “Hell, to be honest I’m surprised you accepted” Jeff let out a nervous chuckle, squeezing her hands in return “You sure? Just the two of us?” “Just the two of us” she said in a resolute tone, grinning at him, and he finally mirrored her relaxed smile. 1985 was about to start in the best possible way.

♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️

Seattle, VedderAment’s place, 31st December 1990 (but not for much longer) “It’s barely a couple of minutes to midnight!” Layla yelled into Eddie’s ear as they held to each other and swayed to the music. <Excuse me, Miss Boulais, is it midnight? I’d check my watch, you know, but I just can’t take my eyes off you… JEEZ, I DIDN’T SAY IT OUT LOUD, DID I?> Eddie had a mind full of cheesy kissing pick up lines as it often happened when he was drunk or stoned. “Really? Uhm we’re almost there then hehe” he awkwardly replied as he couldn’t say if he was more inebriated by the booze, the song’s atmosphere, Layla’s delicate flowery perfume, the warmth of her breath against his face or her body pressed against his. “Yep!” Layla knew she should have said something earlier because now, right in the middle of the party, it was impossible to have a proper conversation about anything or even say anything more than best wishes. She tried to tell herself to enjoy the moment, which wasn’t bad at all, but she couldn’t help but regret her lack of courage. She was an overly worried type of drunk. <I’m here, slow dancing with a nice guy, who also happens to be very hot, and instead of just enjoying it, I keep on brooding over what I did and didn’t do...> 10! 9! 8! They kept dancing without saying a word, until Chris started shouting the countdown and everyone at the party followed him. Eddie and Layla stopped but were still holding each other as they were howling every number too. 7! 6! 5! <Wanna start the new year with a bang?> he couldn’t help thinking as they smiled at each other during the count. 4! 3! <Ok, that’s enough, I’m done! I’ll kiss him! Just like that. But what if he doesn’t want to? What if he pulls away? How can I save the situation? I could kiss him and make it seem like it was a mistake. Like I could be aiming at the cheek and then oops! And then just see where it goes from there… If he gets into it, that’s great, but if he doesn’t I can always say “sorry” and laugh about it and pretend nothing happened then go cry about it in my room later> Layla’s train of thoughts was very fast in those two seconds, as she pondered about her kissing attempt. 2! 1! <Can I be your first mistake of the year?> Eddie was disgusted but also surprised by his own creativity for pick-up lines as the last seconds of 1990 were ticking away. HAPPY FUCKIN’ NEW YEAR!!!!! Cornell screamed from the top of his lungs as chaos started around in the apartment at the stroke of midnight, so much that the music was barely audible, although Chris had turned back up at maximum volume. “Happy new year, Eddie!” Layla jumped and cheered and went to kiss him on the cheek. Right, on the cheek. Her previous determination gone out of the window, as always. Eddie kissed her cheek in turn and stood staring at her with a drunk smile, considering telling her that, talking about new year’s resolutions, he had a new one now and he was looking at it right at that moment. “Thanks, happy new year to you too” he said instead, keeping some dignity. <Why can’t I be uninhibited drunk instead of overthinking drunk?> Layla sighed internally as she took in Eddie’s disheveled beauty right in front of her and regretted their loser-style new year’s kisses. “1991 will be great for you and the band, I just know that!” the girl shook him by his shoulders and it was like he snapped up from sleep. “I trust you. You know, talking about resolutions…” Eddie started saying and it was like he could hear himself talking but couldn’t do anything to prevent it and was terrified of all the stupid shit that could come out of his mouth. “Yeah?” she asked as Eddie wouldn’t go on but just started dancing with her instead. “Uh, I have a new one. I didn’t mention it before because, well, it’s new” he said after Layla’s encouragement and was already saying a silent goodbye to his dignity. <I just hope she had enough alcohol to believe I’m charming and cool> “Ok, that’s great” “Yeah” he said as he kept swaying in time with the music. “And what is it?” she prompted him to talk as she thought the booze was probably starting to kick in and have the best of him. “Not be a loser anymore” he spoke into her ear as he stopped moving and subtly tightened his hold on the girl’s hips. “Oh. Well, that’s, that’s good” “Pucker up now, please” he looked up into her eyes and she saw an extremely serious expression on his face. “Wha-” Layla didn’t have time to understand what Eddie was talking about before his lips met hers in a sudden kiss. Layla wanted so badly to let her mind wander and mull over what was happening and the possible aftermath and consequences of it but she just couldn’t. The kiss was so surprising she was caught off guard and it was just that deep type of kiss that leaves little room for thought. The rush of sensations crawling across her body was the only thing she could focus on, together with the taste of him. Eddie pulled away only to look at her face, searching for reassurance, any hint or reaction that could tell him whether he had just fucked up big time or she liked being kissed. He had his answer in a couple of seconds, when the silent double stare broke into a mirrored dumbstruck smile. “... Fuck it” Layla said and he thought that it was serious if she used the F word. He managed to smirk before the girl decided that whatever it meant, whatever the consequences might be, whatever his lips were bringing, she wanted more and pulled him into a new kiss. They were lost in each other’s lips and it was like the outside world had ceased to exist. That was until a loud crash that sounded like an explosion broke the air and their kiss and brought them back to reality.

♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️♣♦️

“Jesus H. Tap-dancing Christ, what the hell was that noise?!” Sara startled, then finally realized what had been happening for God knows how much time and immediately pushed herself away from Stone. “Sounded kinda like the roar you hear during an earthquake...” he casually observed with a smirk, touching his lips without taking his eyes off her. “Oh, that’s magnificent… fuckin’ A, we’ll be the first ones to drop like ants!” she growled, then kicked him in the leg “What the fuck are you waiting for?? Stand up, I need to go out!” “After all the trouble I went to come here? Over my dead body, missy” “You’re asking for it” she kicked him again “I’ve got zero problems with killing you to save myself: you’ll be just a fatality caused by the earthquake” “Only if you’re gonna cry at my funeral – first row, with a Hepburn LBD and this exact perfume” he went on, grabbing her ankle and trying to pull her close. “... you’re a sick motherfucker, you know that?” Sara shook him off, pushed him aside while he was guffawing and finally reached the handle “I’m not done with you” “That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say, Scout” “Go eat a dick, Boo Radley” she gave him a last fake smile then stormed out the bathroom with her ears and cheeks boiling. <Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, let’s hope nobody noticed my absence… that son of a gun needs a good kicking> The girl stopped for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and wondering if her lipstick had survived the havoc that Gossard had bestowed upon it, then craned her neck to see if anybody had seen what she had been up to, to no avail: the hall was empty, because apparently everybody had gathered in the living room. “Ames, I already told ya I’m fuckin’ sor-” “What the fuck should I do with your apologies, Chris?? Wipe my ass, that’s what I’m gonna do!” Jeff was shouting at his (ex) friend “What am I supposed to tell the landlord?? ‘My friend thought that shooting a goddamn confetti cannon against the ceiling would be a brilliant idea’?! That would surely make everything easy for me, yes sirree!” <Do not think about that idiot’s ass, Fancini, and focus on the main news: no earthquake and Mr. Montana’s imminent ass-kicking provided by his landlor-fuck, I thought about his ass, didn’t I?> Sara looked up, first of all trying to figure out how much did Chris actually fuck up and also to take her mind off the bassist’s butt. She noticed quite a large hole in the ceiling and a few confetti remains hanging from it. “You can always say it’s installation art” Steve suggested as Lukin on his side couldn’t seem to take off his squinting eyes from the confetti cannon disaster. “Yeah, it surely… uhm, transformed the perception of the space” Layla remarked, as Sara briefly looked at her friend and couldn’t help but notice Eddie’s arm looped around her waist – she didn’t think too much of it. “Sure! And it will transform the landlord’s perception too as he won’t hesitate invading our personal space to kick our asses!” Jeff flailed his arms around in frustration, while Sara silently cursed him for mentioning his cute ass once again. “Come on, it’s not bad! I mean, it is bad, but not that much. Nothing that can’t be repaired” Matt pointed out, trying to save his bandmate from the homicidal instincts of Ament. “Sure it can be repaired. At our expenses, of course” Jeff rubbed his face with his hands, trying to stay calm, but the people around him didn’t help. “Oh! You could ask the construction company that’s fixing our apartment! They’re not too expensive” Layla thought this would cheer the guy up a little but apparently she was wrong. “Well, thanks a lot, Four Eyes! They’re cheap and all but considering how quick they’re working at your place, do you think they’ll have the fuckin’ hole fixed on time for the next New Year’s party?” “Come on, Jeff, let’s not ruin the party now” Vedder exchanged a reassuring look with Layla and went to lighten up his bandmate’s mood. “Me? It wasn’t me, Chris ruined it” Ament shrugged and Cornell rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. “How many times do I have to apologize to you?” “Listen, we’ll think about something tomorrow, I’ll try and see if I can do something. Tomorrow, though. Today we’re celebrating, ok?” Eddie went on and his attempt at keeping his friend calm wasn’t totally uninterested. <The sooner Jeff relaxes, the sooner we’ll all go back to the party and the sooner I’ll go back to the smooching> he thought, hoping he was really just thinking and not saying the word smooch aloud. “How sweet of him, improvising as a mason… I bet he’d pass himself off as a firefighter or a fuckin’ astronaut just to resume his favourite activity” Turner murmured under his breath, still bearing a sort of grudge against him because of Layla. “Hey, what’s happening he-OH. Jeffrey, how many times did I tell you not to do jumping jacks at home? You know you’re not exactly as light as a feather” Stone appeared out of nowhere and Sara had almost forgotten their escapade and was chuckling at his joke – at least until she turned to look at him and noticed a faint trace of her lipstick in the corner of his bottom lip. “HAHAHAHA OH, SHUT UP GOSSARD, GIVE HIM A BREAK!” the girl laughed exaggeratedly and shoved her hand upon Stone’s mouth as to playfully shush him up, but actually to subtly remove any evidence. <A flamethrower would be more effective but this will do for now> she thought as she felt a sort of satisfaction in almost suffocating the guy. Stone didn’t lose his composure and with a quick move he took her wrist, twisted it lightly, kissed her hand and smirked. “As you wish, Miss! How can I say no to such a gentle request?” Everybody turned to look at them with their faces scrunched up like crumpled paper; the color drained immediately from Sara’s face when she realized that all her previous caution had just been destroyed by the cocky attitude of her ex-friend. Silence was reigning until Ament cleared his throat: “Ok ok, considering everybody’s at least as wasted as Stone, we clearly can’t do anything now anyway” he paused and looked at Stone and Sara with a weird feeling gnawing at him that he couldn’t put a name on “You’re right, Ed, we’ll think about it tomorrow” “... Confetti hole” Lukin said out of the blue, while Chris turned the music back up and everyone went back to their own business. “Yeah, 1991 started with a bang” Steve snorted. “It looks like the sun” his friend said seriously. “Midnight sun” “Confetti sun, like it looks like the sun but it’s fake” “Uh-uh” “Confetti hole sun. Wouldn’t it be a great song title?” Lukin’s face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah yeah, sure. Come on, let’s go have a drink” Steve shook his head and led his bandmate to the kitchen as the party slowly started again.

[thenightlymirror]

Stephen King exhaustively goes into every conceivable idea of who The Other might be in mid-80's society. He begins humbly with completing the system of German Idealism and talking about the Ground. Gets right into those chthonic gods of the unconscious and the most fundamental Id. And it's just the smell of a basement, the poetic ineffable fear. Then he brings it to the level of society. Derry has lynched a gay man. He starts with queer character as an androgynous clown, and then goes into the history of the town's gay bar, the couple before the murder. Flips it over. Humanizes them.

Whether or not King is a homophobe sort of depends on where you are in the book. It just occurred to me that the empathetic scenes about Adrian Mellon could have been written as an afterthought and placed in the beginning to offset the rest. Imagine It without that murder. You have the bum harassing Eddie for a blow job. Stan unable to climax, unable to father a child. You have the most psychopathic, disturbing character in the entire book: Patrick Hockstetter, who one-up's the previously most-evil character by asking to blow him. What else would the most evil child in Derry want to do? And then there is the revelation that Pennywise the Clown is a woman. Which is a twist, how?

There is a kind of point to that twist. Unrelated to the homophobia.

I feel like the more information we get about Pennywise, the more abstract the character actually becomes. I kept thinking about the (awful) interventions of birds over and over again in the book, and I had the strange thought, "What if birds were all really aliens that flew here from somewhere else? We see them as conventional animals, but they're from beyond." And wondered if these were the first clues that Pennywise was an alien.

100% Correct.

First, there is It the Underneath. And then there is The Transcendental It. And they are the same Other.

See, there is a great thing that King does, where there are a few purely intuitive leaps toward the climax of the book. First, they build a smoke hole and draw blue matchsticks to see who has to guard the bunker. The burnt matchstick disappears, and Beverly goes in with the rest of the boys. When Richie and Mike are cheeching the bunker, they go back in time to the Ago, which anyone who has been catastrophically stoned and found themselves with the profound feeling of being back in personally-ancient time understands. When they see It's spaceship, it's described as being like a burning match head with electricity and blue bullwhips coming out of it.

The burnt blue matchstick disappeared, went back in time, and fell out of the sky as It's interstellar ark.

Does that make sense? No, but it's suggested.

Also, after the Ritual of Chud and the description of (the dead lights) and the boundary of the cosmos made out of an infinity of imaginary stakes manifested by eons of impossible children fighting impossible vampires, in the unmentionable scene which is also the whole point of the book, does Beverly get pregnant? No. It gets pregnant. And who has to kill the babies? Ben. But. What's one of the main coincidences between all the Losers? They didn't have kids. But they did. That's all on purpose. They got It pregnant.

I have no idea what this means.

In the unmentionable scene, sex is described as the absolute negation of (the dead lights). "They break through into the lifelight together." The tunnel to It becomes the wormhole connection between the innermost, hitting the back walls of the outermost. So to speak.

It's possible that Stephen King is just accidentally inventing dialectics while trying to describe some kind of Yin and Yang of the imagination. Like when in interviews he references Marianne Moore's description of poetry as "imaginary gardens with real toads in them". He's both using this as a rule of thumb for how to write horror sincerely, powerfully, insightfully, but it's also a meditation on imagination itself. Horror and utopian joy mirror each other strangely.

It occurs to me that bird is also a stupid slang word for girl, and the implication might also be that Beverly is herself an avatar of It. But I want to make it clear I hate this theory and it annoys me that I thought of it.

I love Ben. I strongly identified with him when I saw the made for TV movie as a kid. His character gets totally sidelined towards the end. Stan gets sidelined for the entire fucking book. Mike is there and isolated from the group almost the entire story, but I suppose in mirroring ways.

It could be a really cool book entirely about the horror of racism in America. It practically is. And it is COMPLETELY insane that every adaptation of the book so far has just decided to forego all of that, all of Mike, the whole deepest point of It, the middle points, where society is It. The amazing chapter that introduces the adult Beverly through her abusive husband's eyes and she is It. The terrifying chapter about Stan and his wife, where her body is It.

The wealth of those societies in which the capitalist mode of production prevails, presents itself as “an immense accumulation of It's."

I think the strange empty romance of Bill and Bev, which is dumped for no reason at the end so she and Ben can be happy ever after, is also on purpose. There were the mere agents of cosmic designs, and they served their purpose. So suck it up.

I've barely mentioned Eddie or Richie. Eddie's scene where he confronts his mother is at that second apex of the book where there's a bunch of great chapters. Richie is so fucking annoying haha. Does racism have to save the day every time? He is also the only character that seems to have been influenced at all by the counterculture of the 60's.

King said that the inspiration for the story was walking over a bridge, and imagining the troll underneath from Billy Goats Gruff. King imagines memory as a precarious bridge between adulthood and the land of childhood/the past. We don't see under that bridge at all, to the 60's and 70's, except through Richie's rock and roll, suggestions of college radicalism. The hallucinations of It have a deep shadow, which is any familiarity with alternatives to established society. That might just be Stephen King. But there's the murdered union men. The "commies" mentioned by Georgie in the first chapter. Bev's feminist friend. I guess the focus on Blacks in the 20's and gays in the 80's is sort of more illuminating that the usual weight given to white navel-gazing in the 60's and 70's.

But the main aim of the book seems to be a classic modernist one. It's about memory. It's about the powerful presence of forgetting, especially. Forgetting has a spooky omnipresence in life, ordinary life, American life. You really can't address it honestly without addressing it's unconscious. Which is why so much of the book resonates, despite not being able to tell exactly why.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Steddie x Reader ft Kas!Eddie Imagine Part 2 - Finally Home

It was a few days after encountering a feral Eddie and being hurt by him. Steve had been by your side most of the days and you loved him for that but it stopped you from going to look for Eddie and you were itching to find him.

Over the past few day, during the evenings it always felt like eyes were watching you from trees but you went to look, the feeling disappeared. So when Steve went home, you took your chance to go find Eddie and roped Dustin into coming with you, it wasn't that hard.

You felt terrible for not telling Steve but you knew he would stop you, like any good person would, but you wondered if bringing Dustin was the best idea but you also knew that Eddie saw him as a little brother, so you were hoping that the two of you could get through to him.

While working through the forest, you both were throwing ideas out on where Eddie could as well as some theories, like if he need somewhere dark to stay during day like vampires, did silver and crosses work on him, did he actually need blood to survive or was it just a reaction he had, or could he still eat human food, you both just keep going back and forth on these theories.

It was getting starting to get dark, and you still hadn't had any luck in finding Eddie. Surely trying to find someone with large wings would be easy, was this how bigfoot hunters felt.

You had to stop and sit for a moment, as your body begins to ache as it still recovering. Looking at the sky, you knew it was time to head back and make sure Dustin home safely. so you herded him back through the forest to your home.

Not being able to find Eddie, you felt a little a defeated but you knew he was out there, and you were going to find him. Once back home, you took the map Hawkins and the area around it, that you had out and marked off where you and Dustin looked to today, as well as marking the gates and other places were important.

You spent the rest of the evening, looking at places on where Eddie could possible be, you were sure the Rick house was destroyed cause of the water gate but maybe that was good place look. You wrote down all the places you through were a good idea to look.

So each day, you would go to the locations that you had written down, but so far each one ended in a dead end. You were sitting outside at night with the radio so you could get in touch with Dustin, watching for any movement you might see in the forest.

On one of the evening you were sitting outside, you fell asleep for about 30 minutes, not realising just how tired you were, so when you woke up to a blanket over you, you were confused and wondered if Steve had popped over, but you turned around to looking the house and didn't see him, so quickly looked towards the forest, trying to find him.

You radio Dustin, relayed what had happened and told him you were going into the forest. You got him coming through calling you stupid for going on your own, but you told him, he was coming with you via radio and shhed him when he was being loud.

You didn't know how long you had been walking through the forest before getting home, but when you arrived Steve was waiting out back pacing, using the radio you called Dustin a snitch. You and Steve did get in fight, him calling you a few name and what would happen if you were attack something, and you told him you weren't a child, and he respond by telling you to stop acting like one. That fight left you both not speaking to each for a quite a few days.

You spent the following days using your anger to search the forest and any abandon building, that you come across that could possible hold Eddie. One of the afternoon all your emotions just get the best of you, so you scream, cursing at Vecna and Eddie (cause he hiding from you), you just screamed to heavens and just threw sticks and stones till you just felt nothing.

You headed home, and like normal you sat outside and staring into the forest. You called out once, telling Eddie if he was out there, that he was coward for hiding from you and that you going to find him, so he better stopping hiding or he's going to regret it.

You then headed back inside, and looked at the map of Hawkins again. You picked up a knife and threw at the map, and where it landed was where you were going to look in the morning.

So when morning came, you thought of radioing Dustin but didn't. You were surprised to see Steve at the front door, you told him you had places to be and Steve knowing what that mean just followed behind you, telling you that he coming with you to protect you.

You and Steve started to head down the street before walking into the forest. It was quiet between the two of you for a good while, you wanted to say something but was unsure of what, especially after the fight but you wouldn't apologise for trying to find Eddie.

Finally reach where the knife landed, Hawkins Trailer Park, you knew that Eddie's and Max's Trailer were completely destroy, but this was home to him, so maybe he came back here, to somewhere he knew well and best places to hide, plus who else would think to check a destroyed trailer park.

The both of you looked round for awhile, looking into some of the trailers that happen been destroyed, trying to see if there any signs of Eddie being there. You both spent a good hour looking around the park and nothing, you were so close to admitting defeat again when Steve called out and pointed to something that was being hidden away.

You both made your away over to find it was a trailer, that was so close to the forest, that it had been taken over plants. Something was telling you this was it, your heart started beating so fast and grabbed Steve hand, to ground yourself.

Steve pulled his ever trusty baseball bat out, and you both got to the door of the trailer, with Steve pushing the door open with the bat and stepped in first, pulling you in after him.

There was nothing in the area that you stepped in and began to wander through till you reach back room and there seem to be something on the walls, but didn't know what it was, so you went to touch but Steve stopped you and pushed the door open.

Seeing the door open fully, you almost gasped when you saw two wings, wrapped around something. You stepped in front Steve and put hand up to stop him, then straighten up your back and took a breath and called Eddie by his full name in a stern voice.

You stood your ground as everything happened so fast, as wings unfurled and there was growling in your face as well as two very sharp fangs. Steve pressed himself against your back, ready to help if it was needed.

Eddie took a step backward, his wings furling up, seemingly disappeared, all the while his eyes going back and forth between you and Steve.

He then stepped forward again, standing in front of you before he reached out and grabbed Steve by the collar, pulling him forward and kissed him.

Both Steve and you were in shocked. You were just kept blinking as your brain caught up and you then clapped your hands, getting his attention, telling him off and that he should be apologizing for staying away from you and his friends, not kissing your boyfriend no matter how handsome he was.

Steve just stood there with a red face, brain trying to process that Eddie had just kissed and he had enjoyed it.

You asked Eddie if he had to break Steve with in less than 5 minutes and you pulled Steve through the trailer and sat him down in a chair, as he started to come out of the fog.

You sat next Steve, with Eddie standing in front of you, looking more like the Eddie you knew, the slightly awkward nerd in these situations, unsure of what to do or say.

There was a sudden banging outside and in a split second Eddie was back to his feral side, his wings unfurled, from where you were still figuring that out, with his mouth open and growling lowly.

Both of you still watched him and after a few moment he wings, disappeared from view, and turned to look at you both, ready to see scared or frighten looks, but neither you or Steve had one.

You stood up and took his face in your hands, staring at him for a few moments before kissing him, finally being able to kiss him again was better than you thought, it was different with him having fangs now.

Once you finished the kiss you moved back and stood in between both of them, and said that you weren't going to choose between them, you loved them too much be able to choose. It was clear that Eddie was into Steve as well and didn't mind this, but Steve was unsure at first but willing to try for you.

This was defiantly the start of something beautiful you knew but you also hoped that would help bring back more Eddie, so that when Vecna did attacked next, Eddie would be fighting on your side.

Now that Eddie was back, you had to tell everyone and slowly reintroduce them to him. You also really wasn't looking forward to the lecture you were sure Hopper was gonna give you and Steve, for this.

[demieddie]

forever is the sweetest con

teen, no archive warnings apply, m/m - buddie, ~13k

summary:

After multiple failed employment attempts, Eddie and Christopher are living in LA with barely any income and measly insurance. When Eddie is introduced to the world of swindling Southern California’s elite, he knows his life has been changed. He just doesn’t know if it was for better or worse.

Or, a conman/cowboy like me AU

thank you so much @cosycrescent for betaing this fic, it literally would not exist without you

[read on ao3]

The dark stone of the bar’s counter is cold against Eddie’s arm as he swirls his glass in his hand. He’s perched sideways on a barstool, still partially facing the bar, but mainly looking out at the suits and evening gowns gliding across the room.

“Hello,” a deep voice says from behind him. Eddie jerks in surprise, spilling his drink all over his hand, but luckily not on his pants, before turning around to face the man. Eddie’s ready to give him the full spiel about sneaking up on people, when he finally gives the man a good look.

Eddie was expecting someone older, considering the average age of the room. Probably in a black suit, maybe grey if he was adventurous. Definitely expecting to be called out on some piece of etiquette Eddie doesn’t know. Instead, he’s staring at a young blond man. Hell, the lady Eddie was just talking with probably would have called him dashing. He’s in a deep blue suit with a baby blue tie and Eddie wouldn’t normally be the person to notice stuff like this, but the way it brings out the man’s eyes is impossible to ignore.

“Uh, hi,” Eddie finally says. The stranger smiles.

“You’re here with Mrs. Eadburg,” he notes. Eddie feels his blood run cold. That was his one rule when Lena first introduced him to this: no married women. Or men. No married anyone. “Don’t look so scandalized, she’s a widow. Has been now for almost a decade—heart attack, the poor man. Can I sit?”

The man gestures to the place where Judith Eadburg—Mrs. Eadburg, apparently—had vacated. Eddie nods.

“She just went to ‘reapply her makeup’,” Eddie offers.

“Yeah, you should get used to that,” he says. He lounges on the bar stool and Eddie realizes just how long his legs are. How anyone can sit like that and make it look both effortless and comfortable is beyond Eddie. “All of them do it at least once a night. Means you’re doing something right.”

The man honest-to-god winks. Eddie has no idea what to make of this whole interaction. There are a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but the man straightens up like a shot.

“I need to go,” he says, urgently standing. He leans into Eddie and quickly whispers, “Tell her your Thoroughbred has Potomac horse fever and she’ll give you thousands on the spot.”

“What—You—How did you know?” Eddie says but doesn’t know what he’s asking about. He has so many questions. Mainly about who this man is and how he figured Eddie out so quickly, but also a few about this horse information. The man, evidently, thinks he’s asking about clocking Eddie.

“Your suit is too loose in the shoulders and no amount of polish can hide how beat up your shoes are. Anyway, I need to leave now. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

The man leaves in the same direction he came from, slipping into the crowd after only a second. Barely a moment has passed before Mrs. Eadburg reclaims her seat, having returned from the opposite direction. Eddie smiles at her, but even he can feel that there’s no joy behind it. Mrs. Eadburg—to her credit—notices as well.

[read the rest on ao3]

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 15

delirium / fever dreams / bees

Also partly inspired by a fun fact prompt that I received AGES ago from @oatflatwhite who told me something frankly horrifying about ants. (I’m not responding directly to that ask because you deserve something nice so I’m gonna do something nice with the other prompt you sent <3)

***

Day One:

Everything hurts. But Buck knows this is the most energy and mental capacity that he’s going to have until this thing is over and he can’t afford to waste any time. Screaming as he does, Buck tries to pluck the stone and debris out of his right arm where he’s split wrist to elbow before slathering it in antibiotic ointment and wrapping it up in gauze. There’s no bone showing, but the cut is almost too deep for the Neosporin to be a good idea. Buck would prefer to wash it out with water except that he doesn’t have any.

Landing on his backpack probably saved his life, but Buck can’t help but be devastated that his hydration pack popped like a water balloon when he landed on it. He has a life straw and water purification tablets, but neither of those is of any use without a water source and the next one is six miles up the trail. A trail he’s not even on anymore, he reminds himself, looking up, up, up at the blue sky and the canyon rim that he tumbled from, hitting every ledge on the way down. 

Of course his phone is signal-less. He’d known it would be as soon as he got more than half a mile away from the Jeep. There’s a circled map on the front seat with his route and a matching one at home with Eddie and that might be comforting except that it’s going to be at least 36 hours before anyone notices that he’s not where he’s supposed to be. 

Buck tries not to think about that part.

Day Two:

It took some doing with only one good arm and one good leg (nothing broken, but his right elbow and his left leg from ankle to hip are bruised nearly black; the left ankle is already the size of a softball and Buck doesn’t dare take his boot off to inspect it), but Buck managed to make a lean-to with his striped blanket. He has one end of it secured on a rock with his backpack and the other end precariously pinned with his trekking poles to the canyon floor. Eddie gave him the hardest time about his plans to cowboy camp on this trip, but Buck doesn’t think he could have gotten a tent assembled anyway.  

Of course when he wakes up in the morning, the blanket is gone and he’s staring up at a ruthless sun that’s already started cooking his pale skin. Still half asleep, Buck leans on his right arm to push himself up and a scream rips through his dry throat as the pain burns like fire through all the nerves of his forearm. He tells himself he’s allowed to whimper all he wants as long as he doesn’t stop. He can bitch and moan and cry, but he has to find out where his blanket, his only protection from the desert sun, has blown away to and he has to bring it back.

He also has to force down the melted pack of peanut MMs from his backpack and the orange he was supposed to have for dessert last night. He has a bag of granola too, but it crumbles like sawdust in his dry mouth and while Buck knows it isn’t actually going to make him more dehydrated, he gives himself a pass on eating it for now. 

It’s only for today. Eddie won’t hesitate to pull the trigger on calling search and rescue when Buck doesn’t check in by three. Buck just has to hold on for today.

Day Three:

He feels, simultaneously, like the body in the Operation board game and the person holding the tweezers. Every movement Buck makes seems to provoke a loud, emphatic error response. Screaming instead of buzzing. When the sun went down last night, he screamed for what felt like an hour, yelling for help that was nowhere around and apparently not coming. What he got for planning a hike on a Tuesday. The last names in the trailhead book before his own had departed on Saturday and on such a little known trail, Buck didn’t expect any to follow him until Friday. 

Tomorrow? 

He doesn’t like that it takes him a minute to remember what day it is.

He doesn’t like the angry red lines radiating from the cut on his arm. Buck manages to change the gauze, but he doesn’t have enough left to do it again. The skin and exposed muscle beneath is obviously infected, but apart from another layer of the useless Neosporin, there’s nothing he can do. 

After he loses the feeling in his left toes, he kicks his boots off to find that the swelling is as bad as he’d feared. No longer sure that it’s not broken, Buck doesn’t dare to put any weight on it at all and he hobbles around his right, leaning hard on one of the trekking poles, as he chases down the blanket again.

When he makes it back to his rock, panting, dizzy, and not sweating nearly as much as he’d like, Buck gives up on the idea of a shelter and just wraps the blanket around his sunburned shoulders. 

Day 4: 

He’s such a fucking moron. He’s wasted all of this time and he should have tried to climb out of the canyon when he had a chance instead of sitting around waiting. “Hug a tree” was advice for toddlers like “don’t talk to strangers.” Adults were supposed to rescue themselves. Buck should have been able to rescue himself. 

As the sun rises, he paces along the canyon wall, looking for any sign of footholds or paths. He screams until it feels like his throat is bleeding and his racing heart pounds in his head. When he tries to swallow the granola, it comes back up in a mushed mass of oat and stomach acid. His piss is burnt orange and he tries and fails to catch it in his hands anyway, desperate for a drink. Fucking Bear Grylls would have climbed out of the canyon. 

He has the blanket with him and he pulls it over his head to protect his shoulders and the back of his neck, but the sun sneaks in anyway. Blisters pop up on Buck’s collarbone and on his forehead and when he sits down to cry, his eyes are too dry for tears. He can’t stand up afterward and he crawls on his hands and knees back to his rock.

The battery on his phone is dying so even though Buck is sure is going to live--he has to live-- he drafts a few text messages. To Maddie. To Eddie.  I love you I love you I love you I love you. I’m trying so hard. I love you I love you I love you.

Day ???:

Eddie had been worried about the mountain lions. Buck laughed at him as he rolled up his sleeping pad, telling Eddie that a tent wasn’t the protection against a mountain lion that he thought it was. Buck’s main concern right now are the ants. They seem like they’re swarming everywhere. Big golden ants with mandibles like the jaws of life. They didn’t have ants like that in Pennsylvania. 

Buck brushes at them furiously as they crawl all over his arms and legs. They don’t bite but the incessant march of their feet itches. Buck claws at the gauze on his arm, scratching and scratching and the previously white cotton is stained with blood and dirt and it’s on fire. When he pulls at the bandage, something gummy holds tightly to it and Buck decides to leave it alone if only to keep the ants out of it. 

Some of them look as big as scorpions. Eddie had been worried about scorpions too. Eddie worries a lot. He wanted Buck to bring an inReach but they’re expensive and by the time he brought it up, Buck didn’t have a chance to order one anyway. 

You should have listened to me, Eddie says, leaning against the rock as Buck lays beneath it. 

“I know,” Buck answers. “I’m sorry.” 

Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just scared, Buck. I don’t know where you are.

“I don’t know where I am either.” That’s a new thought and it’s scary. Buck is next to the rock and he’s in a red canyon under a burning sun and there are ants crawling all over him and he doesn’t remember how he got there. 

I’m looking for you.

A dry sob echoes in the canyon.

You’re holding on for me, right? Stay in the shade. Wear your blanket.

“It’s hot.” Too hot. His skin is burning from the inside and the outside and every part of it is red and warm and itchy and Buck’s not sweating anymore. An ant bites his arm and he smacks it hard, forgetting about the wound beneath. He wonders if the ants are crawling there on purpose.

People used to use ants as stitches. They’d let them bite right into the edges of the wound and then pull their bodies away. Buck doesn’t know why the ants held on after they died. He doesn’t know who thought to try that and why bandages weren’t enough. He imagines what it would feel like. The hundreds of ants he’d need in his arm. Inside for the muscle and outside for the skin. Imagines their mandibles sinking into him. Imagines the pain of it. Imagines what would happen if one of the inside ants wasn’t decapitated properly and it was let loose and crawling inside his arm and it carved deep tunnels in there and laid eggs.

“Don’t let them put ants in my arm, Eddie.” 

I won’t, Buck.

“Don’t let them do it. I don’t want them to bite me, Eddie. Eddie.” 

What if they’re in there already? Buck starts unraveling the gauze ignoring the howl of pain up his arm and the black spots dancing in front of his eyes as he forces himself to sit up. The gauze rips away from his skin and the wound below is white and yellow with pus and there aren’t any ants in the world big enough to close the cut. 

The gauze is a tangled mess and he can’t put it back on so Buck wraps his arm in the blanket and squeezes tight to keep the ants out. He can’t hear Eddie anymore. He can just hear the ants. Marching. Marching. They’re climbing down the canyon walls. They’re coming for him. Buck shivers and shakes and waits for them. He has to survive. He has to. He has to. 

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

I'm positive that brother comment was on the prompter because there been interviews where he supported buddie but so cause access interview he did march 2020. Where he brought that eddie/buck where tvguide tops ships etc (really proud) and to see where they go

Hi, Nonnie! I figured as much, but I always try to look at it objectively and I don't begrudge anyone their opinions (if that had been what it was, which based on what you said, it obviously wasn't but scripted), I just respectfully disagree when I don't agree. But I am glad you told me about the interview he did back in 2020 because I had no clue. So thank you for telling me about that.

You know, it's funny, I remember after watching the series for the first time a couple of months ago, I remember looking up the Eddie Diaz tag on this site and seeing how some people were assuming that Buddie would never happen because of Ryan, that he was actively against it while Oliver remained open to it. I didn't know anything about Ryan at that moment or anything about Oliver, personally or professionally. Then I saw that video of them driving around set and I heard Ryan mention that they were shipped every second but it was just a casual mention, nothing defensive or irritable or exasperated about it. Then I saw a couple of interviews with him and Oliver and both of them seemed fine. Not that they talked about Buddie specifically, but they just seemed like two easygoing guys just talking about the show, their characters, how much respect they had for Angela and Peter, etc. At the time, I had no idea what had happened with Ryan and the 2020 incident I guess you could call it, but I remember going into the Buddie tag and still seeing some posts that kept talking about how Ryan was going to prevent Buddie from happening, because he was so against it, because he insisted that Buck and Eddie were just brothers. That they were worried and had no expectations of Buddie going canon because of it. Not because of a decision Tim made (or would make), not because of something in the story that occurred (like Ana or Taylor coming in), not because they personally didn't see it, but because of Ryan. And I got frustrated because #1 I didn't see that at all, #2 that's not how it works, and #3 how demoralizing and invalidating for those who believe in the pairing and want to see it happen (especially since it makes sense in the story), for these naysayers to keep publicly purporting the supposed narrative of Ryan's opposition to it. I ended up writing this very long post that broke down all of these points, that Ryan doesn't have that kind of authority when it comes to his character's story, to even defending him and asking how people actually know that he's against it since I hadn't seen anything thus far of him being quoted (or posting) that he was indeed against the pairing. But, it was a long post and I kind of went off in it so I decided against posting it. I only wanted to bring positivity to the Buddie tag, not keep the other stuff going, you know? But I do remember thinking at the time, 'this is just ridiculous'. Even if Ryan was stone cold against it (not that I saw any evidence pointing in that direction), it wouldn't matter. If the show decides Buck and Eddie are going in that direction, it won't matter what Oliver or Ryan wants. They may be able to negotiate physical affection scenes but ultimately, if the show wants Buddie to be an official thing, it will happen. Oliver and Ryan know this, just like any other actor or actress that takes on a role. And Oliver and Ryan don't strike me as the kind of people who worry about their own image when a decision is made in the story for their characters. As long as it remains true to the character, I honestly believe they would have no issue at all should the story go in that direction. (and now, based on what Oliver has said in the past and what you just said, that confirms for me that my belief is correct)

So, long story short, I am so glad you told me this because it gives me even more hope. Going back and rewatching the series, they definitely have implied not only Eddie's feelings for Buck (as far back as season 3) but also something about Eddie's own character (starting in his first season) and Ryan imho is playing that beautifully. There are things that he did so subtly and so perfectly that when going back to rewatch, I'm now seeing even more of it and I'm so appreciative of every little aspect, every little nuance he's put into it. Before 911, I didn't know much about his career except The Boy Next Door. But now, I have to say I really do appreciate his read of the character of Eddie and how much he has put into it. I could never imagine anyone else playing this role. He is Eddie Diaz. So hearing this on top of all of that, to me, it just makes this experience with this show and this ship even better. So, thank you. =)

Thanks for the ask, Nonnie! I hope you have a great rest of your weekend!!! <3

[mookie--jam]

Chapter 5 (Part 4): Paris and Waits (Empty Canvas)

Eddie and I walk into the living room. But only after I made him triple check I didn’t look like a mess. I’ve known him for two days and he’s already taking over Jeff’s job as my personal checker. 

“You sure I don’t look like a raccoon?” I asked him. There was this weak smile on his lips, probably caused by pity for the crying girl and nothing more. 

“You look a little more punk than usual, but far from a raccoon. And trust me no one will notice, they’re all too drunk to do so.”

And with those last words of reassurance we went back into the living room. He was right about the drunk part, or at least intoxicated. Cornell was sitting on his couch, stoned to the bejesus. Corrine is in Jeff’s arms on the other side of the couch, both fast asleep. And Gossard is dancing to Donna Summer, all by himself. Normally I’d join him because I fucking love Donna Summer, but I’m not really in the mood right now.

“Where’s the Pizza Van Driver of Doom?” I ask Eddie, inquiring about our ride home.

“Ah, yes, Michelangelo. He’s drunk out of his mind, cuddling Jerry in Chris’s bathtub”, Eddie explains. 

“So basically we’ve got no ride home”, I point out.

“I’m afraid you’re right”, he says, scratching the back of his neck, a gesture I’ve become already very fond of.

“In that case we’ll be walking”, I simply state and I’m already heading towards the kitchen, where Cornell put all our jackets in his broken oven. At least now he gets some use out of the damn thing. Eddie’s right behind me.

“You sure you’re able to?” he asks me as I hand him his sleeveless leather jacket and extra flannel.

“To walk? Eddie, I was just crying, it’s not like I twisted my fucking ankle. I’m perfectly capable to walk”, I snap at him. I shouldn’t have done that. He spent the last half hour consoling me without even having a fucking clue about what I was crying about. Now we’re walking home together and the only thing I can do is snap at him. Fuck, Lola, keep up like this and he’ll soon enough hate your guts. 

“I was just asking, also to make sure if you knew the way”, he says as he’s putting on his flannel. If only he knew how many times I’d walked from my place to this place. I would be able to find my way here blind folded.

“Sorry…” I mumble, “But yes, I know the way. Don’t worry.”

We’ve now both put on our jackets and turn to face the living room again. Donna Summer’s voice has faded away. The only sound that can be heard now is the needle scratching the end of the vinyl. Stone has collapsed next to Cornell, he’s kind of cuddling up to him. If I only I could see their faces when they wake up practically kissing each other. I would be pure comedy gold. But I want to go home. I need to go home. Every minute I’ve spent in this apartment since my break down has felt like agony. Like something is slowly crushing me, pushing all air out of my body. 

“There’s no point in waking them up, let’s go”, Eddie says reading my mind. He puts his hand on my shoulder and guides me out of the door. 

We spent our way down the stairs in silence and the same goes for the first minutes of our walk. We’ve got about half an hour to go. Even though it’s only October, the temperature at night feels like the middle of the winter. Especially with the foggy rain that has started falling. It’s the kind of rain that doesn’t feel wet, but slowly and surely will get you soaked. 

“You’re shivering”, Eddie points out. I had no idea I was until he said so. My arms are wrapped around myself, hugging my torso tightly trying to get some heath through the thin leather jacket I’m wearing. I don’t go out this late much any more, I’ve forgotten how to dress for it.

“I’m fine”, I mumble, rubbing my hands on my upper arms, trying to warm myself by the friction. Eddie abruptly stops walked and places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me as well. 

“No you’re not”, he says and takes my hands in his. 

“Your hands are like fucking ice cubes”, he states, trying to rub some warmth into them. He brings them up to his mouth, blowing on them a little, the warmth of his breath warming them up ever so slightly. 

“Eddie…” I try to tell him I’m fine again but he’s not having it. He drops my hands and opens up his jacket, taking it off and starts taking of the brownish-green flannel he’s wearing underneath. He hands it to me.

“Put this on underneath your jacket”, he instructs me, a level of seriousness is evident in his voice. I’ve never really heard him like this before. I do as he says and take off my jacket to put it on underneath. He puts his jacket on as well.

“It looks good on you”, he says, the seriousness gone now. It’s replaced by a smile. I look down at the outfit. The black floral dress with red roses on it, indeed somehow works with the flannel and my leather jacket. Though it’s way too big for me. I should have expected that. He has quite broad shoulders and likes to buy his clothes on the big side. It’s almost as long as the dress I’m wearing. But I’m much warmer already. 

“It kinda does, but are you sure you’re gonna be fine. I mean you’re not really used in cold weather like this in San Diego. You’re gonna get sick”, I state following after him as he’s already started walking again. 

“I spent half of my life in Chicago. I’ll be fine”, he states, looking at me. In the moonlight his blue eyes seem darker than usual, but still as mesmerizing as ever. 

“You lived in Chicago, I didn’t know that”, I say kind of surprised. I just always saw him as this California surfer, not as someone who walked the icy streets of Chicago during winter.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me”, he says and there’s the heaviness in his voice I can tell his thinking about something dark. “There’s also a lot I don’t know about you”, he adds after a short silence, adding a smile.

“Yeah that’s kind of true. But it’s weird. Even though I’ve known you for such a short time, it feels… It feels like…” I can’t get the words out of my mouth, afraid he’s gonna laugh at me.

“Like we’ve know each other so much longer”, he says turning to me. There’s this sparkle in his eye. 

“Exactly, I have the same thing!” Thank God he somehow feels it as well. I thought I was going insane. We’re both smiling at each other like two crazy people, probably both feeling like a lunatic as well, but we’re not scaring each other away. 

“Maybe we knew each other in past lives”, Eddie suggests out of the blue, laughing, he’s got a great laugh. 

“Perhaps we did”, I say. I’ve now looped my arm through his and I’m kinda leaning into him. Partially because of the cold, partially because I want to be closer to him. He doesn’t seem to mind. “Okay, who do you think we were?”

“Who?” he asks looking down at me, a little confused. 

“Who were we in our past lives?” I say hesitantly. Maybe I should not push this thing too far, because I’m risking sounding like an actual lunatic.

“Hmmm…. Let’s think we need something good”, he says, agreeing to go along with my thoughts, which makes me smile.

“Indeed we do”, I say pondering over the possibility of a past life with Eddie, or just a life with Eddie in general, now in this moment. But I can’t, I can’t let him in too much. For my own good and for his as well. Us two would just lead to misery… Or maybe it’d lead to something wonderful. I shake my head internally… It can’t. You’ve already had your shot.

“We were a pianist and an artist in Paris during the roaring twenties”, Eddie suddenly says excitedly. It felt like he hit the hammer on the head. It made complete sense. 

“Yes! I could see that. You played Jazz in clubs like le Chat Noir and I was a painter up in Montmartre”, I say, slowly starting to sketch the image that is taking form in my head. I let go of my fear of sounding crazy. In the worst case scenario I can always blame it on a lack of sleep or alcohol.

“We met up every morning in a little café. We sat outside no matter what kind of weather, just to smoke and watch the people pass by”, he adds without even having to think that much. The thing is that I could see us do that now. Just going to a coffee shop and sitting on the terrace, having a smoke and a cup of coffee. Talking about nothing and everything at the same time. 

“And we went out every night and were friends of Hemingway and Picasso”, I say. I’ve noticed that through our excitement we’ve started walking faster. But I don’t want to get home.

“I bet you looked gorgeous in a flapper dress”, he says chuckling a little. “Also you desperately tried to cheer up Hemingway, sensing that he was coming down with some kind of depression.” I laugh out loud at that last comment and he does the same thing. God we’re awful people to laugh about such a thing, the man ended up killing himself. 

“And you tried to do the same thing for Zelda Fitzgerald”, I add. She also died horribly, but it wasn’t suicide. She died in a fire in a mental institution, where she was being treated for her own suicidal tendencies. Talk about irony.

“Do you think we were lovers?” Eddie asks out of the blue. Thank God it’s dark outside because  the thought alone makes me blush a little.

“I don’t know, we might have been”, I say hesitantly, waiting tot see where he’s going with this. 

“I can see that”, he says and it puts this stupid smile on my lips. I can’t, please don’t. Please. “We used to come back from a partying to your place in Montmartre or wherever the fuck my place was and then stay up all night talking… Making love…” That last one he adds hesitantly and I give him a gentle jab with my elbow before looking up at him. He’s already looking at me, a smile plastered across his face. 

“I obviously had one of those long satin robes”, I say kind of drifting away from the insinuation of us making love. I love that he said making love instead of fucking. Though honestly, fucking would’ve been fine. 

“I unfortunately had nothing as such, so I’d just be naked all the time”, he says laughing once again. Well past me certainly wouldn’t have minded it. Present me neither. 

“Sheets wrapped around you like a toga”, I add laughing, trying to lighten the mood again. Not that the mood isn’t light. It’s just that I practically can hear Johnny’s voice in the back of my head going: “I swear to God, you should’ve seen the two of them, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”  But the thing is you can’t. There’s no sexual tension. Well maybe from my part yes, but certainly not from Eddie’s part. He certainly doesn’t see me in that way. 

“Oh yes, how very Greek of me, though I’d mostly just try to keep that robe on the ground, because that is where it looked best and also so that I wasn’t alone in my state of nudity.” No he’s just joking, we are only joking. He doesn’t want to sleep with me. I mean look at him, he can get way better than me. 

“Scandalous…” I mumble my reply.

“Speaking of scandalous”, he practically immediately adds. Oh god, where is he going with this? “Past me will have made an honest woman out of you, considering the times and that he was madly in love”, he says matter of factly. I probably shouldn’t go further with his, or I’m gonna actually make him think I’m crazy.

“Well how did he ask?” I ask, not being able to hold back my curiosity. This is the first time anyone has ever discussed the possibility of me being proposed to. People generally don’t perceive me as girlfriend material, so let alone marriage material. I’m curious.

“Well on one of those nights, lying in bed together, that’s for sure”, he says immediately, before pondering for a bit. “I think past me would’ve gotten past you one single peony and tied the ring to it with a little bow or something.” For fuck’s sake can he even get any more perfect?

“Good move, past me certainly wouldn’t have declined”, I says smiling just at the thought of it all. Then reality hits me again. No, this is not yours to have. You had your one chance and it was taken from you. No one could ever be that lucky to get another one. And even if I were, it’d only end in sadness again. I can just feel it.

“Do you think we lived a long and happy life”, Eddie asks me after a bit of silence. Somehow he must’ve been thinking of something sombre as well, since the excitement in his voice is gone. He now sounds more melancholic. 

“Longish but not too long”, I say quickly.

“Why not long?” he asks me puzzled, a bit of sadness even in his voice.

“Because both of our past lives died in the sixties in order for us to have been born”, I simply explain. Past Eddie died in 1963, leaving past me to live the last five years of my past live all alone. Lucky her, only five years. My solitude will be much longer.

“So where are you from”, he asks out of the blue, completely changing the subject. Maybe for the better or I might get stuck in the fantasy. 

“Huh?” I ask, not completely getting where he’s coming from. But then I remember how the whole past lives conversation started. With him saying he lived half his life in Chicago.

“You’re not a Seattle native, that I know from Stone, so where are you from?” he asks me again.

“New York”, I simply say and I notice we’re nearly home. I lean into his side a bit more, trying to get as much out of these last minutes as possible. 

“Really?” He sounds very surprised. Most people do. “You don’t have the accent.”

“What do you expect me to do? Pull a Dustin Hoffman and shout out ‘I’m walking here’” I exclaim giving my best (which coincidentally is also my worst) New York accent. He laughs, but stops once he realizes we’re in front of the gallery. I’m looking for my keys in my bag. I can’t see a damn thing in thing in this darkness.

“Lola?” Eddie says softly and I pull my head out of my bag to look at him.

“Yeah”, I say as I keep rummaging around the bag without looking.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it right now. Maybe you’ll never want to talk about it. But know that if you ever feel the need to let it all out, I’ll be right there if you want.”

I find my keys during this statement and start unlocking the door. I just nod at his comment, afraid that if I start talking everything will come out right in this instant and he’ll be scared away. I eventually manage to open the back door to the gallery and we both walk in. It’s not until I turn on the lights in the halfway that I notice that we’re both absolutely soaked. The droplets of rain haven’t soaked Eddie’s hair though, they just softly lie on top, like morning dew. There’s this one curl that’s plastered against his forehead. Before realizing what I’m doing I gently tuck it back into the rest of his mane. We just stand there silently for a bit, soaking in the warmth of the building, meanwhile looking at each other with our saying a word.

“Want to come up for a cup of tea?” I eventually ask. I can’t help myself. I don’t want this night to end yet. I haven’t had enough of him. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.

“That’d be great”, he says ever so softly, his lips curling into a smile.

We make our way upstairs on the creaky steps that lead up to my apartment. Once inside I drop my bag by the door and take of my jacket, deciding to keep Eddie’s flannel on for a bit longer. I put the jacket over my desk chair and Eddie puts his over mine. At the same moment we both decide to sit down on the floor to take off our Docs. He laughs a little and shakes his head. We’re both probably thinking the same thing. Doc Martens, great fucking shoes, such a fucking pain in the ass to take off. 

Once I’ve managed to remove both my shoes, I stand up and head towards my record player.

“Music?” I ask, even though I know the answer already.

“Yes, please, but something calm. For once I my life I don’t feel like listening to blazing guitars”, he says still sitting on the floor, struggling with the double knot on his left shoe.

“Tom Waits?” I ask already pulling out the record.

“Never listened to him much, so yes”, he says and even though I’m not looking at him I can see him smiling. 

“You’ll love this, it’s called Blue Valentine”, I say and put it on. I get up and now head towards my stove top to put on the kettle. I start preparing the two mugs, putting a bag of tea in each of them and a spoon. I decide to put some honey in them as well. It’s silly but honey always helps me sleep, I guess it’s a remnant of my childhood.

I’m completely lost in Tom Waits’s voice until I hear the ping of the kettle, telling me that the water is now done. I pour it into to the two mugs I’ve prepared and turn around, holding one in each hand. Eddie’s lying on my bed, ever so peacefully. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep”, I say nudging his side with the tip of my toe.

“I’m not falling asleep, I’m just enjoying the music”, he says. He opens his eyes and looks at me. There’s a little sparkle in them. He pats the space next to him on the bed.

“Come and lie with me for the sake of our past lives”, he says. One part of me wants to laugh and tell him he’s being silly. Yet another part of me just wants to lie there and listen to the music. To his deep breaths and his heart beat. But I can’t. One thing is gonna lead to the other and soon enough I’ll be hooked on him, maybe even worse than I was before. And that’s all fine, until everything inevitably ends.

“Eddie…” I want to tell him I can’t. I want to explain him my fear. I want to let it all out, and yet at the same time and I want to say nothing, because I’ll scare him away.

“Come on…” he says, the corners up his mouth turning upwards as he sees me contemplating.

“Fine”, I say as I put the two mugs down on my night stand and crawl into the bed. 

He’s flat on his back and I’m on my side, his arm wrapped around me, his other hand is playing with my hair. I’m drawing shapeless shapes on his chest, leaning into him. I can hear his heart beat. It’s surprisingly fast, for someone in such a seemingly relaxed position. 

The third song on the record comes on and shivers run down my spine.

“God I love this song”, I whisper into his chest.

“What’s it called?” he asks and I can feel his head turning towards me. I look up at him.

“Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis.”

“That’s a mouthful”, he says, chuckling a little before going back to his completely relaxed state.

And we just lay there, listening to Tom Waits sing the letter from the hooker aloud. I don’t even hear the end of the song, because by the end of it I’m fast asleep in Eddie’s arms. 

[frankiefellinlove]

THE STEVIE FILES PROUDLY PRESENTS - THE AMAZING ROCK & ROLL ODYSSEY OF STEVEN VAN ZANDT

From The Source to Soulfire via Springsteen and Sam & Dave

Recorded, transcribed, edited, written, produced, mixed and mastered by MIKE SAUNDERS

SIDE TWO (1975-1983)

Track 6: Miami Steve, The Asbury Jukes, Tenth Avenue and Hammersmith

In early 1975, Steven returned to New Jersey from Florida, inappropriately dressed for the winter weather. “I came back with the flowered shirts and the Sam Snead hat and continued wearing them in the snow.” For the next seven years, he was known as Miami Steve. He joined Southside in the Blackberry Booze Band and within weeks they’d altered and expanded its line-up (adding keyboard player Kevin Kavanaugh from Middletown and bass player Alan Berger from The Dovells’ backing band), transformed its musical direction, changed its name to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes (referencing their mutual hero Little Walter’s band and first single release) and established a successful three-nights-a-week, five-sets-a-night residency at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park.

“Just before that, me, Southside, Bruce and Garry went to see Sam & Dave. A life-changing moment. So me and Southside basically decided we were gonna be the white Sam & Dave, with rock guitar. So the horns came in and although we didn’t know it, we would change the entire concept of what a bar band sounded like and the respect a bar band would get by making it creative, soul meets rock. ‘Bar band’ was an insult. ‘You’re a bar band,’ which means you can’t make it in the real music world. After the Jukes, they started using ‘bar band’ in reviews and they meant it as a compliment, with Graham Parker and Elvis Costello and Mink DeVille. We changed the way people thought about these things.”

The Miami Horns were a vital component of the new band. Steven composed the horn arrangements, but although he’s always possessed a natural ability to imagine horn parts, he doesn’t read or write music (“never have”) and has always required a little help from his friends to transcribe them. “I have people write ‘em down, to this day. I like that actually. You have to do a lotta things yourself so any excuse I find to collaborate I do it. I find other people will bring something to the party usually. That’s why [I’ve] used Eddie Manion for I don’t know how many years. He knows how I like to voice things. Once I think of something and create the parts, I get bored if I have to voice every part, exactly right. If I hear a voicing I don’t like, I will change it, but I get bored by the mechanics of everything.”

While the Jukes were building their reputation and growing their audience, Bruce invited Steven to hang out at the Born To Run sessions in New York, where he was working on “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” David Sanborn and The Brecker Brothers had been hired to play the horn parts, but Steven created a spontaneous new arrangement. He’s told this anecdote countless times, but I ask him to repeat it because it provides perfect examples of his innate musical talents in action (“I can hear the parts, who knows why?”), the nature of his friendship with Bruce (“I still am the only human being not afraid of him”), and his no-bullshit attitude (“I didn’t know anything about diplomacy”).

“So he says, ‘Whaddya think?’ I said, ‘It sucks, that’s what I think!’ I didn’t know how uptight everybody was. I didn’t give a fuck either. The managers and producers were all afraid of him already. He asked me a question, I’m gonna be honest. I’m trying to help my friend here, not make points with some fucking record company guy. Moment of silence. ‘He just said it sucks, which means we all suck.’ Bruce [says] ‘Alright then, go in and fucking fix it.’ So I did. I went in and sang the [new] parts. I didn’t know they were the most famous [session] guys in New York. It wasn’t insulting them, the chart was ridiculous. That was my thing, just from the Jukes being around maybe six months.”

“I wasn’t really feeling the pressure that Bruce was at the time. I didn’t realise his life depended on this album. His first two records hadn’t done very well. They wanted to drop him. I don’t know how aware I was of any of that. He invited me into the session and I’m laying on the floor. All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Soon after making his instinctive artistic contribution (and singing backing vocals on “Thunder Road”), Steven was invited to join the E Street Band. It was a chance to complete the circle, play with his old friend again and settle any unfinished business from three summers earlier, when he’d been sent packing at the Greetings sessions. He made his live debut on the opening night of the Born To Run tour, which ran until New Year’s Eve. His input and influence over the next decade, onstage and off, would prove invaluable. (Bruce even began playing The Dovells’ “You Can’t Sit Down” as an occasional encore). In the fall, the tour took everyone to Europe for the first time, where the culture shock was off the charts. “There was no hamburgers, no peanut butter. The only place you could get a hamburger in the whole of Europe was the newly-opened first Hard Rock Café. There was a line around the block even then.”

Culinary deficiencies aside, Bruce also had to endure the overblown hype surrounding his first UK gigs at London’s Hammersmith Odeon, where Columbia had displayed the legend “Finally London Is Ready For Bruce Springsteen” on every available surface prior to his arrival. “[It was] completely obnoxious,” says Steven. “[Bruce] spent half the time ripping down posters. It was an embarrassing time for him, between that and Time and Newsweek. He didn’t like that stuff. You wanna be in charge of your life, that’s why we get into rock ‘n’ roll. Suddenly it was slipping out of his control. We made the mistake of playing a place with seats. It just made the show that much harder. But by the end, we got ‘em outta the seats. We went to Amsterdam, Stockholm, and back to London. The second one was a bit easier.” The experience had a prolonged effect on Bruce. “He was uptight in those days and would remain so through Darkness into The River, until he asked me to produce the record and we found a way to have some fun.”

Track 7: Epic Records, Steve Popovich and The Stone Pony

Back on the shore, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes continued the Stone Pony residency throughout 1975, gradually consolidating their line-up. For the next three years, between Springsteen commitments, Steven worked as their producer, arranger, manager, part-time guitarist and principal songwriter. In early 1976, after circulating a demo tape, they signed a recording deal with Epic, with assistance from Steve Popovich, the label’s Vice-President of A&R. “I Don’t Want To Go Home,” the song that Steven had kept in his back pocket since his days on the oldies circuit, became the title track of their debut album and their first single. Ben E King’s loss was Southside’s gain.

“I produced [the song] in a way which was appropriate for the Jukes. They didn’t have a big background vocal thing going on,” explains Steven. “I was very conscious of being able to try and do most of it live, although I put strings on it, on my very first production! There was no synthesiser in those days that could play strings. That’s why I re-cut it [on Soulfire] the original way I pictured it, with the singer and background vocals answering. That idea of writing for someone else is extremely important, critical and essential. It changes the way you write completely, from when you think of writing for yourself, which is extraordinarily complicated and confusing. It’s not easy, but easier, to write for someone else. There’s their identity in your mind at least. I’m writing them a song. That’s a wonderful exercise for songwriters.” I Don’t Want To Go Home was released in the summer of 1976 (“I’ve never received one penny of royalties, but whatever!”). The Jukes later began their first national tour and made their European debut in 1977.

Recommended by Bruce, Steve Popovich was one of a kind. “The last of the real music guys in the business. The only other person I can compare him to would be Lance Freed on the publishing side, who’s unique. He’s actually into music and songwriting and the things you’re supposed to be into when you have a job description like that. And Frank Barsalona, the only agent who really did his job and would set the standard for everybody to follow. Those three guys, really quite historic. [It was] Popovich’s idea to launch the record with a broadcast from the Stone Pony. Never been done before. Popovich loved the local scene idea and he largely made it happen. It never would have been recognised nationally, I don’t think, if it hadn’t been for Popovich, who had the vision to say it’s cool if you’re not from New York. Rather than being embarrassed if you’re not from New York, LA or Nashville, it’s actually cool.”

Track 8: Production Credits and Political Awakening

Steven developed his talents as a producer and songwriter with the Jukes in the late 70s, following I Don’t Want To Go Home with This Time It’s For Real and Hearts Of Stone. Successive releases featured greater quantities of his original material, which included “I Played The Fool,” “This Time Baby’s Gone For Good,” “Take It Inside” and “Some Things Just Don’t Change,” apparently written for another of his heroes, David Ruffin of The Temptations. During this period, he also produced the “Say Goodbye To Hollywood” single for Ronnie Spector and the E Street Band and provided production assistance on Darkness On The Edge Of Town. His relationship with the Jukes ended when they left Epic for Mercury in 1979 and he went on to co-produce The River and two comeback albums for Gary US Bonds, Dedication and On The Line. It was an impressive fast-track apprenticeship. Steven had no production experience when he began. He acquired the skills and learned from his mistakes in the studio. “That’s why all three Jukes albums are different,” he says. “By the time we did The River, I knew what I wanted to do. I got it all down by then. That’s how I tend to do things. I can picture what I want. Jump in, do it, let’s see what happens.”

Steven also kept his promise to himself to bring his musical heroes out of obscurity, initially as guests on the first two Jukes albums. “I did what I could, but I wanted to do so much more,” he admits. “First time I get in a studio, got Lee Dorsey out from under a car, where he’s a mechanic. Got Ronnie Spector out of retirement. Second album, we reunited The Coasters, Drifters and Five Satins. Me and Bruce worked with Gary Bonds. We got Ben E King and Chuck Jackson on that record. Those artists had a talent level noticeably above everybody that followed. I wish I’d been insistent on doing more of them. In those [early] days, you actually had to have talent to make records. You had to be able to sing a song, beginning to end, perfectly in tune, perfectly the right melody, and if you fuck up one word, you gotta do the whole thing again. Couldn’t do enough for those people, they were so much fun to produce.”

In addition to his studio accomplishments, Steven played more than 300 shows with Bruce and the E Street Band between 1976 and 1981, primarily on the Darkness On The Edge Of Town and River tours. The majority took place in North America, but the River tour included a European leg that took the band away from home and out of their comfort zone for nine weeks. Much longer than their previous visit in 1975, it was their first significant experience of foreign countries, languages, cultures and political perspectives. They received rave reviews wherever they played, but Steven gradually became aware that not all Europeans viewed the United States in a favourable light.

One particular encounter was pivotal in dramatically reshaping Steven’s worldview. “A kid asked me, ‘Why are you putting missiles in my country?’ I said, ‘I’m not, I’m a guitar player.’ I realised, for the first time in my life, at the age of 30 I’m embarrassed to say, that I’m an American. What the fuck does that mean? I managed to grow up in the middle of civil rights, the Vietnam War, demonstrations about every fucking thing and had no interest in any of it. Amazing when you think about it. Redefining tunnel vision. Suddenly, the tunnel is gone. We’re now successful. Who would have ever figured that would happen, right? Now it’s like, uh-oh, what did I miss, the last 20 years?”

Track 9: Men Without Women, Motown and Mixing In Mono

This revelation accelerated Steven’s growing political awareness, one of two important developments in 1981 that would change the course of his life forever. The second came when he returned from Europe and was approached by EMI America about making a solo album. Having spent six years producing and writing for others, he welcomed the opportunity to have his own creative outlet, which soon expanded into a separate career. In the fall, he enlisted musicians from the E Street Band and the Asbury Jukes to record most of the material for his debut album, Men Without Women, using his established rock-meets-soul sonic blueprint. Including “Lyin’ In A Bed Of Fire,” “Princess Of Little Italy,” “Angel Eyes” and “Until The Good Is Gone,” it remains an undisputed career highlight for Van Zandt devotees, but Steven feels that an outside producer might have helped him make a more commercial record.

“Conventional wisdom is you never should produce yourself and I have to say that’s correct. The only exception I can think of in the history of the business was Prince, who was an extraordinary genius, but other than him, I don’t know anybody who successfully produces themselves.” Describing himself as “extremely schizophrenic, I’m twelve different people, never mind two,” Steven explains how his inner producer failed to control the whims of his inner artist. “Without knowing it, the artist takes over. I was into this extreme naturalism, no logical reason why. I did the whole album live in one day. Came back the second day, did it again, beginning to end. Couple overdubs, that was it. There’s one guitar. The horns aren’t doubled. Nothing’s doubled. Bruce did all the harmony on that record but we couldn’t use his name. We [did] a similar thing with Born In The USA, where we just recorded live in the studio.”

“I made Bob Clearmountain mix ‘Forever’ in mono, to try and achieve the perfect Motown record. It’s never gonna be exact and it shouldn’t be exact, why should it be, but I wanted to capture a Smokey Robinson Motown record. The only way I could do that in my mind was to make it completely mono. He was so good in those days. I mean Bob’s still the best, but in those days he was beyond the best. He was something else when it came down to that Neve board that wasn’t automated, and he’s feelin’ those faders. I made him do something he’d never done before, which requires a whole different way of thinking. You’re now thinking depth-wise and vertically, not horizontally.”

“That’s where my head was at. Can I achieve the emotional communication that my heroes had provided me? My heroes being Motown in general, 10 acts there. Or my heroes at Chess, another 10 acts. Sam Phillips did ‘Rocket 88’ for Ike Turner (Jackie Brenston) and ‘How Many More Years’ for Howlin’ Wolf, three years before Elvis Presley. Unbelievable genius. [I’m] trying to achieve that level of quality in my own world, in my own little bubble, which has these ridiculously high standards. I’m absorbing the 50s and 60s and then trying to integrate them in my head and reproduce them in my own way, not the least bit interested in what’s going on in the 70s or 80s certainly, because it was shit to me, comparatively. An interesting moment here and there. Punk was certainly interesting. But mostly it’s all coming from what I call the renaissance period, ‘51 to ‘71, where it all was created. And that’s true to this day. That’s all I was interested in and that was enough for 10 lifetimes. I didn’t need another bit of input after 1972.”

Track 10: Little Steven, Little Richard and Bob Dylan

In 1982, after recording with Bruce and Gary US Bonds, Steven completed his album, formed the Disciples of Soul (which included Dino Danelli from The Rascals on drums, Jean Beauvoir on bass and Eddie Manion, Mark Pender, Stan Harrison and La Bamba on horns) and played a debut concert at New York’s Peppermint Lounge. Released in October, a month after Nebraska, Men Without Women preceded his first national tour and was credited to his new professional name of Little Steven, which would be used for all future solo activities. “I just wanted separation [from] being the sideman,” he explains. “Each of my personalities required a different name, in order to keep it straight in people’s heads and my own head.” The name referenced his early heroes Little Walter, Little Anthony and Little Richard. In his role as an ordained minister, the latter officiated at Steven’s wedding to Maureen Santoro in New York on New Year’s Eve. Percy Sledge sang “When A Man Loves A Woman” as they walked down the aisle and the reception included performances from Gary US Bonds, Little Milton, The Chambers Brothers and the wedding band from The Godfather. “Little Anthony was doing a cruise at the time or he would have been there.”

“All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Steven toured internationally in 1983, then dropped the horns, adopted a more contemporary rock sound and made his second album, Voice Of America. It was an explicitly political record that featured “Solidarity,” “I Am A Patriot,” “Out Of The Darkness,” “Los Desaparecidos” and “Undefeated.” Triggered by his River tour experiences in Europe, this radical transformation was completed with a long period of self-education. “I read every book about post World War Two [US] foreign policy. [It was] shocking how often we were on the wrong side. All of these bad things were happening behind the scenes and nobody was talking about them. No political consciousness whatsoever in the country. I decided I have an obligation to say something about this stuff that we’re all paying for with our taxes.”

“Being conscious of the fact that everybody needs their own identity, I figured who the hell needs another love song from a fucking sideman? I’ll be the political guy. Nobody else is doing it. There were people demonstrating of course. Jackson Browne, John Hall, Bonnie Raitt, Graham Nash, those guys. The Grateful Dead were doing a benefit every week, but rarely did it end up in the work. In general, people weren’t putting much politics into the lyrics of their songs.” For artists with commercial aspirations, he concedes, that’s a smart move. “Jefferson Airplane being an exception with ‘Volunteers.’ Big exception, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, with Neil Young’s ‘Ohio.’”

Steven contends that Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” introduced the idea of political consciousness in rock ‘n’ roll. “His first electric song. It’s not given enough credit. The first sentence from Bob Dylan’s electric period, ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine, I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ What? You’re doing what? You’re thinking about the government? Excuse me? Who does that? Whoever did that before, in a song, no less? There in that one sentence, Bob Dylan communicated what his entire career was gonna be about, which was having fun with language, with inference, symbolism, metaphor and nonsense lyrics that rhymed. ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine,’ what does that mean? It means whatever you want it to mean, right? Then ‘I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ Holy shit! You mean we’re supposed to figure out the government? That, to me, is the most important sentence in all the history of rock ‘n’ roll, right there.”

All photos below by Mike Saunders

[exploding-carrots]

I’ve been wanting to draw or write out my ‘future’ Bottom ideas for a while but haven’t gotten around to it. So here’s a long post of some head canons and a general story line of them vaguely developing as people at some point set after the live shows. If anything this is just sort of my personal AU for the characters getting together. Mostly focused on the progression of Richie and Eddies relationship and my thoughts on both of them being trans

- They’re both trans, (a lot of Ades characters give me trans dudes vibes but that is 70% me wanting to time travel and body swap w the man) Eddie is a bi trans dude (who medically transitioned young, but is not necessarily out as either) and Richie is a closeted/repressed bi trans woman who begins to come to terms w it during the whole island era

- Richie is also intersex, which while yeah is sort of canon in a mean way, is sort of important to me for the character 🤭 However she is not aware of the fact

- Eddie is dyslexic and has ADHD which both contribute to him struggling on and off (which was really just a gag they went with when funny) with reading/writing depending on how well he can focus on it at any given time (example: the Edies Bra sign vs the grave stone). I am not even going to attempt to say what is going on w Richie but the woman is a mess of unresolved issues and trauma complications

- After everything they go through in the live shows they do somehow make it back to the flat which is unexplainably the exact way they left it.

- Every single joke about Richie going off and fucking dudes from the live show is taken as fact. It is the most poorly kept secret amongst the cast. They literally do not talk about it unless Eddie is trying to make a point or piss off Richie

- Eventually Eddie IS trying to piss off Richie and does bring up everything about her sex life and the clothes, and... well everything else. After a ridiculous fight it somehow turns into an almost semi-serious conversation. Eddie makes the assumption that Richie is gay and Richie counters with the fact that she is genuinely interested in women but it’s a hell of a lot easier to get attention from specific types of men. Gets some wheels turning in both of their heads

- Personality wise they never really calm down, but they do start to slow down a little bit as it takes them longer and longer to recover from their fights. Obviously there is still the odd dart to the forehead or gentle push down the stairs but the ridiculous games and completions they make up take center stage

- they get weed at some point (Dave Hedgehog and Spudgun seems like a feasible source, because let’s be honest if Richie and Eddie tried to buy weed it would not work) that leads to all sorts of embarrassment because Eddie gets crossfaded as all get out and starts hitting on Richie. Which while having a precedent in their history (I mean, the first episode gives us that right away) takes on a new sort of meaning once the concept of bisexuality has been rolling around in their heads. Nothing particularly saucy happens at this point Bc they are high, drunk, and old but all of the actual acknowledgement of feelings start to really develop after this point

- in an attempt to do something with her time Richie picks up sewing and picks up where she left off with the wrap skirt and rubber underwear she made on the island. Starts to really develop the little wardrobe she wears when she’s alone. It’s a mix of the same awful button up shirts she always wears and some dresses and skirts along with a couple pairs of sexier (for Richie at least) under garments

- eventually Eddie comes home while Richie is still in her feminine clothing. Eddies Reaction is different from the first time he saw her dressed up that way since now there is a precedent. Eddies approach is much more “playful teasing” and fake surprise than it was previously.

- Slowly Richie starts dressing up around the flat more and more often as opposed to just when alone. Eddie ramps up with the pet names and husband/house wife dynamic they already had going on.

- THE MOMENT is when Eddie is leaving the flat to go to the bar and there is an ‘accidental’ kiss on the cheek along with his usual good byes. Eddie realizes what has happened immediately and bolts before Richie can say anything. Richie has a moment of “teehee that was nice” still in her little fucking house wife head space before it catches up w her.

- Richie panics, paces around the flat, gets changed like 8 times, cooks dinner, throws it away, takes it out of the trash, paces more, breaks like 8 things, and essentially just fluctuates between “Ooo Eddie fancies me” to “oh fuck the bastard is making fun of me again” to “it was an accident and Eddie is going to make it into a fight” back to “ooo Eddie fancies Me~”

- eventually Eddie comes home, pissed to hell and back way later than he’d normally come home. Richies passed out on the couch. Eddie wakes her up by pushing her over on the couch so he can sit. Eddie says something along the lines of “I’m fucking drunk so I’m only going to say this one” before saying some incomprehensible drunken rambling and pulling Richie into an awkward full kiss. It’s a nice moment for maybe about 5 seconds before he stands up again, pulls a pint out of his jacket, chugs it and says something about drunkenly passing out before doing just that across the coffee table.

- Richie just sort of gawks at Eddie sleeping across the table before giddily tossing a blanket over him and heading off to actually go to bed.

- relationship wise this really just sort of introduces a sexual/physical dynamic to their relation while ramping up their camp version of domestic life

- it’s Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog who actually say something to Eddie about it. They’ve always been in on the “oh look, it’s Eddies terrifying wife” thing. Probably only actually say something about it after the 2nd or 3rd actual display of physical affection they witness. It’s more of one of them asking Eddie if Richie really is his wife (in that half aware sort of way they observe things). This alone doesn’t change much, but it does takes a lot to get through to any of these repressed bastards

- Richie grows accustomed to the more feminine/soft pet names that Eddie uses for her. At one point Eddie uses more traditionally masculine terms which sets off “oh actually I am not a fan of that” in Richies head and leads her to asking Eddie to not refer to her that way. Leads to an awkward half coming out on Richies part. Eddie does genuinely switch up how he refers to Richie at this point and her gender just sort of becomes an silent fact that they both respect. Everyone else sort of knows them as those weirdos who have some sort of common law marriage going on and it’s not really questioned. This is the point where Richie starts to earnestly medically transition without really saying to much about, canonically she has been on estrogen pills before (even if it was a ‘mistake’)

- End game is essentially just them being casual about their identities and relationships in a unspoken sort of “well that’s just how it is” way that naturally sort of bleeds into a the other aspects of their lives.

- Additional note on Eddie being trans: Richie is already vaguely aware of this fact Bc obviously they’ve been seen what the other is working with at one point or another but the fact that she is unaware that she herself is intersex and has a skewed sort of idea about genitals and peoples bodies Richie genuinely does not think about it all too much. Eddie assumes that she knows, especially as they get older and casually refers to being trans (in my mind probably during the entire “Edwina” disguise thing. I imagine Eddie wearing the dress came down to the clothing size and some off hand comment about him “having experience”, which is total shit Bc even before he transitioned Eddie never presented that way). That’s probably around the point that things start to click in Richies head about Eddies identity and she starts comparing and contrasting Eddie to other ppl and such.