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total-dxmure · 3 months

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ೃ࿔ "MARLEY AND ME" MASTERLIST

you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care of a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

total word count: 17.1k

✮ chapter one- ellie somehow manages to embarrass herself a total of four times in front of the prettiest girl she has ever seen in her life. the upside is that you don't seem to mind. you don't seem put off by the fact that she's a total loser and she sees no issue that you're a young mother. the only thing that is proving to be quite the problem is her lack of a gay-dar. ellie has no clue whether or not you're interested in women. . . and she's far too shy to come out and ask straight away.

✮ chapter two- ellie had all but given up on the idea of ever seeing the beautiful stranger again. she had your number saved in her phone but had been too terrified to reach out to you. rejection is a bitch. it's a miracle when you run into ellie at the grocery store. . . or just dumb luck. you land yourself an explanation for her lack of communication and she lands herself a date. . . or so she hopes. she still hasn't gotten that gay-dar fixed yet.

✮ chapter three- who knew a broken screen door could somehow be the best wingman you could have ever asked for? seven stitches and an urgent care visit later, the two of you find yourselves well and truly aquatinted with one another. (smut warning)

✮ chapter four- you aren't the only person in your household that is absolutely besotted. your daughter has taken quite the shine to ellie as well, and you couldn't be happier. though the two of you haven't put a label on things, you're starting to believe that the two of you don't really need to ask the dreaded "what are we" question. you and marley are ellie's girls. . . and she hopes it always stays that way.

✮ chapter five- to be continued. . .

ೃ࿔ fic “soundtrack”

poison tree - grouper

grace - jeff buckley

locket - crumb

crazy for you - slowdive

clementine - elliott smith

when you sleep - my bloody valentine

luna (moon of claiming) - cemeteries

into you - glare

undenied - portishead

drifting - night tapes

be my angel - mazzy star

take care - beach house

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smeddiemunson · 1 year

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(part 1 here) (part 2 here)

Gareth, in a feat of truly impressive self-restraint, lasted all the way through their band practise before asking.

The four of them packed into Eddie’s van. Gareth had ultimate dibs on the front seat since he’d known Eddie the longest, despite being in different grades.

“So,” he said, breaking the expectant silence. “Steve Harrington?”

Eddie groaned and let his head thunk against the steering wheel, not even flinching when the horn sounded. “Please don’t.”

“Nah, man. It’s all good,” Jeff soothed as he leaned through the gap between the front seats. “We’ve not got a problem with it, but Harrington? Really? Not exactly your type.”

Eddie laughed humourlessly. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Gareth turned in his seat to share a loaded look with the two sat in the back as Eddie started the van. They were planning to find out the all of it.

“And you guys just don’t have a problem with it?” Eddie asked once they were well on the road to Loch Nora. “I know you don’t exactly have the best memories of him from school.”

Eddie tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in a rhythm that didn’t even match the tape that was playing quietly. He was nervous and Eddie hated being anything other than completely sure of himself.

“You’re right, we don’t have the best memories of him, but the guy saved your life, Eddie,” Gareth reminded him gently.

It was the worst phone call he’d ever received in his life. He couldn’t imagine getting another one like it. Wayne on the other end, breathing shakily as he told Gareth that Eddie was in the hospital, that he wasn’t waking up but that he was going to be okay and that he thought Eddie would really like it if his best friends, his brothers, were there when he woke up.

It had been hard seeing Eddie like that, small, frail and paler than usual, no rings or battle vest, no Eddie. Steve and Wayne had been sat at his bedside, both just staring into the middle distance, when they had filtered into the room. Gareth remembered so vividly the sinking feeling that he felt at the quiet. Eddie hated the quiet, he was never quiet.

And maybe it had been the wrong thing to do, to interrupt Steve and Wayne in such a way, but Gareth knew Eddie. Wayne, for all he tried, never really understood his nephew and Steve was clearly a new development.

So he started talking. He talked about school, about the assignment he was working on, and he talked about the girl that worked behind the counter of Camelot, and he talked about his mom chewing him out for almost crashing her car. Jeff and Grant, who knew exactly what he was doing, picked up the thread when it sounded like he was running out of steam.

He just couldn’t stand to let Eddie exist like that.

Gareth owed him that much. Gareth owed him everything.

Eddie who had stood on lunch tables and made himself the centre of attention, the target, when Gareth couldn’t fight off the tears after getting an F on his history midterm. Eddie who got them their first paying gig as Corroded Coffin and pushed them all to take their music seriously.

He joked about them being his sheep, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Yeah, man,” Grant doubled down. “We can’t hate him anymore. Without him you wouldn’t be here. And you trust him?”

“With my life,” Eddie confirmed with conviction.

“Then that’s good enough for us. It’s all water under the bridge,” Jeff concluded. “Now turn that fucking music up, I don’t want to cry in the back of your shitty van, Ed.”

Eddie cracked the music up with a blubbery laugh and all four of them yelled along with Ozzy for the rest of the drive.

The door to the Harrington house was opened before they even got out of the car. Steve stood there, excitement buzzing around him.

"Ed," Gareth stopped him with a hand on his arm before Eddie could scamper off. "Do they know about you?"

Eddie shook his head. "Only Buckley."

Gareth nodded once and jumped out of the van. He was still too short to climb out normally, and at seventeen, he didn't have much hope for a late growth spurt to help him out with it.

“You been waiting for us all this time, Stevie?” Eddie teased as he slammed his door shut.

Steve laughed, stepping out the door with bare feet on the porch so he could accept Eddie’s hug. He didn’t have a shirt on, pink scars on full display, and short yellow swim shorts on. It was nothing short of a miracle that Eddie still had the brain cells to flirt.

“We could hear you guys coming all the way up the street.” He explained as Eddie let go of him. “Ozzy?”

“Oh for fuck sake,” Jeff muttered from his place at Gareth’s shoulder. “How is Ed not seeing this?”

“He had to do senior year three times, dude.” Grant fired back from Gareth’s other side, but still not loud enough for Eddie or Steve to hear. “Steve could plant one on him right now and he’d still find a way to make it a just friends thing.”

Steve, having finally managed to pull his focus away from Eddie long enough to see his other guests, waved them over. “Come on in guys.”

Gareth made sure to share with Steve what he hoped past for a friendly, macho and athletic half handshake as he passed him to go through the door.

“Thanks again for having us. You really didn’t have to invite us,” Grant said, using the good manners his father taught him.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “No way, man. I’ve been trying to get Teddy to bring you guys over for ages. He talks about you all the time.”

“You talk about us, Ed?” Gareth asked with a shit eating grin.

Eddie pushed at his shoulder, sending Gareth stumbling towards the open french doors. “Yeah and I’ll talk about Tammy Thompson if you don’t shut up.”

Jeff and Gareth snickered together. They knew all about Gareth’s benadryl induced dream about Tammy Thompson because when he told them he was still half high on the same benadryl.

Gareth huffed but didn’t say anything. He didn’t doubt that Eddie would follow through with his threat if pushed.

Out in the garden, it seemed that the party was already in full swing. There were scattered cans, Robin and Nancy were giggling together at something, and s portable stereo playing The Cure.

Steve smiled shyly. “We got started without you.”

His voice seemed to draw the attention of the other four people. They all stopped in the middle of their conversations.

“Whoa, dude,” The guy with long hair that Gareth didn’t recognise said to break the silence. “Your cult looks super culty.”

Gareth froze. Jeff and Grant did too.

But Eddie, determined to always surprise them, just laughed. “Not a cult, my man.” He kicked his shoes off by the door (surprising how little care he paid them since he sulked for a week straight when Jeff accidentally scuffed them) and started making his way over to the sun loungers. “This the legendary Corroded Coffin. Gareth, Jeff and Grant.”

He pointed them out each in turn then shucked off his shirt and started working the intricate handcuff clasp of his belt.

Gareth pretended he didn’t hear the strangled noise that came from Steve’s throat.

“And guys, this is Argyle. You know everyone else.”

Gareth waved politely but awkwardly and it was returned by a chorus of ‘hello’s.

Once Eddie had divested himself of his jeans, the black swim shorts he had forced underneath them sitting starkly against his pale skin, he dipped back in his jeans pocket to pull out two perfectly rolled joints.

“I brought party favours!” He waved them in front of Argyle’s face how he would sometimes play with the stray cats that skulked around Forest Hills.

Grant groaned. “Eddie, you know I can’t afford weed right now.”

Eddie scoffed at him. “These’s ones are on the house, Ad-Grant-age. This is a party after all.”

Steve, somehow having forced himself out of the trace that Eddie’s torso had put him in, was the first to start moving. “You guys can change inside if you want. There’s bedrooms upstairs or the bathroom just past the kitchen. I’ll get some more drinks. Can we switch this tape?”

The rambling did nothing to hide the redness of his cheeks. If anything it just brought more attention to them.

“Your tapes are shit, Steveo,” Robin informed him happily. “But this one is also awful, so yes I will change it just for you.” She ignored Jonathan’s annoyed hey and beckoned Steve to follow her.

Eddie settled on the sun lounger next to Argyle, already having pulled a lighter from somewhere.

Gareth took that as his cue to drag Jeff and Grant inside to change.

Jeff, as soon as they were out of hearing range, asked, “When has Eddie ever given us free weed?”

Gareth shook his head. “I’ve known about this crush for less than a week and I’m already tired of it. We have to do something to get them together.”

Grant narrowed his eyes. “You already have a plan, don’t you?”

He pushed them both towards the bathroom. “Get changed, our work starts today.”

(part 4)

#steddie #eddie munson #gareth emerson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #bit of a longer one but Gareth was having feelings and i needed to let him have his feelings #pool party/ operation get steve and eddie together planning party next part #again if you asked to be tagged; i don't do that because it makes me anxious and i wouldn't write anything #so figured it was better to write the stuff and not tag people than force myself into anxiety and never post anything again :)#my fic

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chainkeepustogetherr · 5 months

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BROKEN DOWN N’ HUNGRY, JEFF BUCKLEY ONESHOT

synopsis: in which, it simply isn’t too late to pay your ex-lover a surprising visit.

genre: angst i think? lil bit of fluff as-well!

IT HAD PRECISELY only been a matter of weeks, but it sure as hell felt like months since you and your now ex lover amicably decided to end things. Needless to say, you regretted it almost simultaneously. The lack of warmth on the left side of the bed every morning seemed to materialise it.

You woke up each morning with a sense of misery, almost emptiness within each pass of sunrise, day in and day out.

To make matters worse, the weather soon became rather drowsy and depression enduring, which seemingly added to your sense of blues, considering rainy days tended to be you & Jeff’s favourite kind of days to spend together, often humbly wrapped up within each other, simply devouring every savouring moment you two would spend together.

Looking out the small window located on your door, you observe the hues of grey and black painted on the clouds outside, delicate falls of rain cascading down below those very clouds. You stay seated and ponder on the fact that maybe you both were simply just too young to keep your love from going wrong.

You begin to wonder where Jeff is and how he's doing, if he could be missing you anywhere near as you are him. You'd heard through the grape vine that he'd been back out around town, seemingly carried away in his own world having his fun, a stark opposite of yourself who seems to spend most of her days pondering on the rather daunting & thought inducing would've, could've, should'ves this situation poses.

You wonder, what would happen if you simply returned? If you knocked on his door, what would come of it? Would a sense of shame wash over you as you realize he simply doesn't care anymore? Or is it not too late to rekindle things?

Although, little do you know, Jeff has been experiencing the exact same in return. Although he has been seemingly out and about, he often spends most mornings discomforted due to your absence. He spends most of his nights in despair, constantly tossing and turning due to the lack of sleep he faces. He imagines your silhouette smiling softly against him, the scent of comfort and vanilla overwhelming his senses. The fantasy constantly brings him to the verge of tears, simply wishing he had you with him. He feels as if he’s broken down and hungry for your love, yet feeling as though theres no real way to feed it. He ponders, wondering it he will ever feel the bliss of your sweet return.

It feels as if you've been gleaming out the window, looking for some form of metaphorical answer to your unresolved queries for hours and hours on end, but in reality, its only been about half an our or so. You come to the conclusion theres simply not much you can do, considering you remain unsure of if you're willing to deal with any negative consequences if you were to knock on Jeff's door, the humiliation seems too much for your currently sheer broken heart.

You decide to simply go for a drive, hopelessly leading to no where in particular in some form of effort to clear your head of any trace of Jeff. Yet, you feel yourself driving through a rather familiar road, though your mind doesn't seem to register what exactly you're doing & where exactly you’re travelling to.

Within minutes, you pull up to the familiar house that you've spent hours upon hours in, finally realising just where you are. You stay seated in the car for several seconds, realising you had no exact plan on what to do, nor say.

“Fuck it" you whisper under your breath, deciding to simply wing it and air out whatever thoughts previously on your mind earlier in the evening.

You slowly step up the stairs of Jeff's home, letting out a small unsteady breath you weren't aware you were holding in. Knocking three times, you begin to feel a swarm of anxiety take over your stomach, comprehending the fact that this could go extremely right, or extremely wrong.

The door steadily opens, a disoriented Jeff stands before you, a sense of weariness and lack of sleep apparent within his chocolate tinted frames.

His mouth slightly agapes open, his eyes widening slightly in a display of shock, it seemed. “Oh uhm... hello" he speaks, rather softly, yet cautiously.

“Can we talk?.. please?" you say, attempting to hinder the urge to formulate tears from cascading down your face.

“Yeah, yeah of course, come in, the place is a bit of a mess" he replies, a slight hint of embarrassment presented in his voice.

Though you simply nod in silence, unable to find the correct words to say.

"Do you uh, want a tea or a drink? or anything?" he asks, attempting to find a trace of emotion within your face, hoping and praying he isn't dreaming this current moment, due to his lack of sleep.

“No, I'm okay, thank you" you say.

"I think i understand why youre here, but i think i need to hear the words and phrases come out of your mouth, n’ not give into the thoughts that my mind is practically screaming right now " he says, anxiously laughing towards the end of his sentence.

"Yeah, well i just" you pause, attempting to find the right phrase to say without attempting to come off in a hasty manner. "Im just, having a real hard time with this, you know? I really, like really fuckin' miss you and i, just don't know what to do about it anymore”you speak, holding your head within the palms of your hands to hide any trace of emotion painted within it.

“I know i shouldn't come here and i know i should just let it go but i cant. I feel like pure shit everyday, especially when everyones telling me you're doing fine without me n’ i'm sitting in bed, unable to pin point what exactly went wrong" you continue, praying to god you haven't stated your emotions too strong.

A strong, rather unsolicited pause soon follows, allowing you to contain your thoughts in some sense of the word. Though within each growing second, the silence begins to haunt you in a manner, causing your stomach to undergo several different twists and turns, in a similar sense to a rollercoaster of the sorts.

“Don’t believe all the bullshit stories people feed you, okay? Look at my eyes, i look a mess, no? Like i haven’t slept in days?” he rhetorically speaks, not exactly anticipating a response. “I spend my nights awake reminiscing on the times we shared, reminiscing on you. I spend my nights writing endless amounts of poetry, journal entries and songs about you, and god, when i finally do get an ounce of sleep within my system, my dreams always revolve around you in one shape or another” he explains faintly, feelints of passion, yet great sadness oozing from within his tone.

“I consistently think about us and how much i regret the decision we made, its like it fucking haunts me, n/n” he furthermore continues as minor formations of tears begin to brim within the corner of his eyes.

“I really, really, truly did and do love you, you know? Honestly, i believe a fragment of me always will, no matter how close or far set we are apart” he formulates, withholding a strong gaze.

You bite down on your now shaky lip, both attempting and hoping to suppress any tears of your own from manifesting.

Though, a strong sense of relief soon overcomes all five of your senses, a feeling of existential bliss soon following as you ground yourself down to reality, realising Jeff’s words are true and arent a figment of your imagination somehow.

“God, i love you too, Jeff. You’re ‘boutta make me cry, asshole” you playfully jester, wiping away the newly devised tears.

“C’mere sweetheart, wouldn’t want that, would we?” he retorts, inching closer towards you, soon following by wrapping his delicate arms loosely around your frame in a tender manner.

“We’ll sort all this out in due time, okay? No rush, it’ll eventually unfold. I love you too much to let you go this easily, to let this go too easily” he enunciates, though the volume becoming slightly muffled due to his cheek being positioned in a scrunched manner alongside the tip of your hairline.

He furthermore places a delicate kiss along your shoulder, the feeling causing several fragments of goosebumps to arise upon your skin levels as you nod in response to his prior confession. The warmth of his kiss upon your body, the delicacy of his embrace and the scent of him sending a dizzying effect to your mind-frame, the only thoughts occupying your mind being ones of relief, bliss almost. You truly missed the raven haired, chocolate eyed boy beyond belief, beyond words could truly and coherently verbalise.

#jeff buckley fanfic #jeff buckley angst #jeff buckley fluff #jeff buckley oneshot #jeff buckley imagine #jeff buckley fanfiction #rock fanfic #90s rock fanfiction #rock fanfiction #rock oneshots #rock imagines

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sempersirens · 7 months

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rules: spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters

thank you sm for the tags @persephone-girl @mandoisapunk @ilovepedro i really appreciate u all still including me in tings even tho i haven't been active, my heart is sooooo big

bless the telephone - labi siffre

romeo and juliet - dire straits

englishman in new york - sting

a house is not a home - dionne warwick

knee socks - arctic monkeys

francis forever - mitski

a&w - lana del rey

sun bleached flies - ethel cain

tender - blur

across the universe - fiona apple

turbines/pigs - black country, new road

just crazy love - fleetwood mac

oblivion - grimes

everybody's talkin' - harry nilsson

lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley

smackwater jack - carole king

tagging: anyone who hasn't done it yet! just tag me in urs so i can be nosey xxx

#tag games #my heart flutters whenever i get tagged in these

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sophaeros · 2 years

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— Tamino for M Le Magazine du Monde (x)

English translated text under the cut:

With "Sahar", Tamino makes its velvet revolution Four years after a first noticed album, the Belgian singer returns with a record imbued with sweetness that mixes rock, pop and oriental influences.

By Stéphane Davet Published on September 18, 2022

He was a flamboyant revelation of the European scene in 2018, thanks to a first album, Amir. Here it continues in the same romantic vein mixing rock lyricism and oriental roots. Always of a haughty presence, with his slender waist, brown curls and aquiline nose (his mother had chosen his first name in reference to the hero of The Magic Flute), the Antwerper of Egyptian origin bets, at 25, on the intimate depth of sounds and feelings to illuminate Sahar, a superb second album dominated by acoustic heat and a song of proximity.

After two years of emotional tours, Tamino did not apprehend confinement and forced return home as an ordeal. "I lived these two years devoted to my art as if I were on a mission," says Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad, son of a Belgian anthropologist and an Egyptian show producer. “But, far from your loved ones, you end up being cut off from real life.”

After long periods on the road, some artists feel lost in resuming their daily lives, deprived of their technical team and their group. Tamino, on the contrary, has regained its bearings, delighted to reweave its friendships and share new ones, despite the context of the health crisis. "I felt more isolated on tour than during the pandemic.”

Caressing confidences

Unable to compose when concerts follow one another, he finds in his small house in Antwerp the cocoon necessary for creation. After the time of writing comes that of the models. "These recordings are imbued with the acoustic softness of these pieces," says the singer. If he then found his musicians in a large studio in Brussels to decorate Sahar with classy chord arrangements and a multitude of sound details ("which shine on the disc like particles suspended in a ray of light"), the original velvet of the demos has been preserved in many pieces.

"I have never used music for political purposes but to express emotions, feelings.” Tamino

Those on the first album, mostly written in late adolescence, vibrated with torments pushing Tamino to move from the deepest bass to the most crystalline treble. A way of flirting with the celestial and twilight that earned this former student of the Amsterdam Conservatory to be compared to the late Jeff Buckley.

Managing his doubts more serenely, the one who wrote his first song at the age of 14, following a heartache, no longer feels obliged to vocally play extremes. "I wondered if these vocal acrobatics would be missed by the listener," admits Tamino, "but it is the songs that dictate the interpretation. One way of singing should not become a gimmick.” The English-speaking Flemish now puts his velocity at the service of caressing confidences.

Paternal inheritance

The same sobriety prevailed to bring its cultural diversity into its diversity. If the first album scripted its origins by spectacularly crossing electric guitar and orchestra of Arab musicians, Sahar delicately merges acoustic guitar and oud. Tamino, who began his scales on the classical piano, started playing the guitar at the age of 14-15, after discovering, during a trip to Cairo, in an old wardrobe, that of his grandfather, Muharram Fouad (1934-2002), a star of Egyptian cinema and music.

This time he wanted to master the Arab lute in tribute to this paternal heritage."Piano and oud were the first instruments in my environment," he recalls. “My parents separated when I was 3 years old and I didn't see my father until long after. But he had left with us an oud with a broken handle. This mysterious object has always intrigued me. As if he were inviting me to play.”

He learns the rudiments of oud thanks to Tarek Alsayed, a Syrian musician who took refuge in Belgium. Under his fingers, the instrument sways subtly into titles such as The First Disciple or A Drop of Blood. "Music has always been what connected me most naturally to my roots," analyzes Tamino. “I don't speak Arabic, I spent little time in Egypt or Lebanon, the homeland of my paternal grandmother. I still have everything to discover about these cultures, but I have always felt close to this music that my mother listened to.”

A Radiohead to the rescue

Should we see a political message in the way it mixes cultures and influences? "I have never used music for a political purpose but to express emotions, feelings," he says. His mother introduced him as much to Arabic music as to the Beatles, classical music, jazz or folk song. In this second album, we will find references to Leonard Cohen (The Flame), but also to the Latin lounge atmospheres (Cinnamon), dream pop (a vaporous duo with his compatriot Angèle, in Sunflower) or the rock of the 1990s (the training single Fascination).

Fan of punk pop (Sum 41, Linkin Park, Blink-182), then grunge (Nirvana, Pearl Jam and, above all, Soundgarden) as a teenager, Tamino then for the first time formed a musical culture far from the maternal disco. Some haunted melodies (The Longing) or a suspended piano (You Don't Own Me) will also recall the introverted lyricism of Radiohead, another flagship formation of the "nineties". It is no coincidence that Colin Greenwood, the bassist of the British group, intervenes (on bass and rhythmic programming) on most of Sahar's songs.

"Before the first album, he came to one of my concerts in Antwerp, thanks to mutual friends," recalls Tamino. As he was particularly touched by one of the songs, Indigo Night, I invited him to participate in his recording. We got along so well that he joined the group on tour. "On Radiohead's forced vacation (whose last album dates back to 2016), Colin Greenwood - "so humble, so passionate despite his long career" - was not asked to invest in Sahar.

Sahar, from Tamino (Virgin Records/Universal). November 21 and 22 at the Trianon, in Paris (complete).

#my screenshots #musicians #tamino amir #dawg i cannot believe i deliberated for so long and finally spent real actual money on these (admittedly it was just. one euro. but MORE #IMPORTANTLY) i betrayed my PRINCIPLES for this and for what. no new photos #but the interview is cool so #tamino

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dreamsister81 · 1 year

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"I think it was in '93 that Jeff came to our house for Christmas. My wife, our two young boys, and Jeff. He shows up a couple of hours late in the afternoon wearing a top hat and a fur coat. It was the first appearance of the fur coat; he had just purchased it. I think he had just gotten some money from Sony. He bought a top hat and this fur coat. I think the left sleeve was held together by safety pins. He appeared at our front door. Our sons Nick and Ben were one and three years old at this time. He was leaving later that day to England to visit people, visit some friends. He showed up at our house carrying an open, half-used Christmas basket which he had gotten for a gift from Columbia Records. This was his offering to the Christmas festivities at our house that day. There was a Christmas tree and he put the open basket, with half of the stuff in it eaten, under the Christmas tree, which I thought was really nice. He was sharing his booty. And I thought that was very sweet. That was just a great day, a lot of lying on the floor playing with the kids. He exhibited something that day which I had never seen before. It's late in the afternoon, now the television is on and Warner Brothers' Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons were on and my three-year-old son was sitting on the couch. All of a sudden Jeff got up and stood next to the television, just to the side of it. He was word-for-word miming these cartoons, and these are some maniacal music and maniacal songs with extremely complicated rhythms to the soundtracks and the pratfalls. He knew every beat and every word. My son Nick, who always spoke very well, he kept looking at Jeff, and looking at the TV and looking at me, and this went on for a couple of minutes and Nick finally went, 'Dad, how is he doing that?!' And I said, 'I don't know, Nick. I don't know...Just sit down and watch him.'"-Steve Berkowitz from A Wished For Song

"Somewhere I might have a video. My sons Nick and Ben, are four and two, says Steve Berkowitz. "They would watch Silly Symphonies and Merry Melodies while Mom and Dad made dinner. Jeff was over, lying on the couch watching these cartoons with the kids, and then, all of a sudden, he is standing next to the television and mouthing all the words and music of the cartoons and acting them out and being silly. Nick looks at me and says, 'Daddy, why does he know that?'

"'I don't know why Nick, just watch him...'-from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah To The Last Goodbye

"We first met while he was staying with a friend in London during the Christmas holidays in 1992, at what was once the Dome cafe on the corner of Kings Road in London. He was a fairly penniless musician at the time, so I bought him lunch. The first meeting was almost like going on a blind date, not romantically, but we got on so well immediately. He wasn’t the most gregarious person, but we clicked and connected: we were similar ages and were both just starting out. I think we were in the cafe for about four hours.

"During that first meeting, he said to me that he’d never want to play an arena, and if I expected to make any money off him, I was talking to the wrong person. He loved playing small rooms, which is why when we met he laid down the gauntlet for me to find tiny venues for him to play. I remember him saying to me that when people are talking in a venue he would try to use their noise to become part of the song, so the whole thing would blend together. But the reality is that nobody ever did talk at his gigs. They were completely silent. People would listen and watch with their mouths open half the time."-Emma Banks of Creative Artists Agency, and Jeff’s UK live agent, via The Guardian, 8 Mar, 2016 (I believe the year was actually 1993, not 92 due to Berkowitz's anecdote above, Jeff was still with Rebecca Moore in 92 and naturally would've spent the holidays with her-though technically they could've sent him as a matter of business, but still, 92 would've been a bit too soon after he'd been signed, and it obviously makes more sense he'd go to London to meet with Emma that year as he was due to return in March of 94.)

Just before this trip, he had been to England for a week over the New Year, to visit Elizabeth Fraser, the singer with Cocteau Twins, whose voice, he told me, stopped him in his tracks. "It sounds like light," he said.-Dave Lory, from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah To The Last Goodbye (the trip mentioned would've been in January, 94, the start of the Sin-é solo tour) 📷 Merri Cyr/Nicola Dill

#jeff buckley #mylove #supremebeing #favorite #music #merry christmas

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mutenized · 2 years

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Here’s to New Beginnings -Chapter 2

1731Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Synopsis: After being the new kid all your life, you finally have a taste of normalcy when you move to Hawkins with your brother. Your senior year of high school and still the new kid, yet this time it feels different. Like you were meant to be in that small town in Indiana.

A/N: Hey! here’s a continuation from the other nights drabble. Let me know if you’d be interested in this series because it’s def something I’d be interested in continuing! I’m still dusting off my writing In this chap

Notes/Warnings: Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 1.7k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! Click HERE

MASTERLIST

Read chapter one here

“Well god damn, who knew I gave off cheer team energy.” With a giggle, you sit down at the lunch table that Eddie guided you to before placing the plastic tray with less than appetizing food on it. Tugging the sleeves of your sweater once more, you looked over to the group of guys that started to sit around you. It had been about three weeks since school started, and you made a comfortable home between the so-called nerds and Robin Buckley. Poking at the food in front of you with a displeased look on his face, Eddie dramatically sighed before leaning his back onto your side.

“How can they think this shit is even good to sell to America’s youth!? Look at how rancid this is! They’re going to rot our bodies!” With a flourish of his hand, the boy to the left of you, Dustin, couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatics the older male put on. “But Y/N,” with a huff, Eddie shot a not-so-serious glare to the curly haired 15-year-old, “could you blame them? They need the fresh blood of a newcomer and you’re a proper candidate.” With a roll of your eyes, you couldn’t help but match his energy. Baring your teeth like a stereotypical vampire type in the horrible films you and Eddie rented from the Family Video down the road from your house, your hands quickly snatched his arm before going to bite at his wrist.

“Be careful, I had garlic noodles last night you blood sucker.” Thumbing at his notebook that held the ever-evolving plotline of the new D&D campaign that Eddie’s club Hellfire was going to delve into. Letting go of his arm with a huff that matched the similarity of a whine, you poked at the inedible food that sat before you before picking at a carrot or two from the lunch that Mike’s mom packed before the back of your hands were met with gentle slaps of protest. Pushing your tongue out at him, you chomped on the vegetable with glee all before turning your attention to Gareth you had cleared his throat. Raising a brow as if to say, ‘go on,’ your eyes rested on one of the members of Corroded Coffin with intrigue.

“Well,” clearing his throat, Gareth’s eyes darted between Eddie you before continuing, “well, we all were talking after last weeks Hellfire meeting and um, Eddie really wants this plot to happen but we um, we need another player.” Wringing his hands together anxiously, the awkward teen’s shoulders that were raised to his ears drooped once you nodded with a small smile. “And I suggested we ask you to join. Everyone agreed, especially seeing as you have a great imagination. Remember when you helped Eddie write about the siege that an ogre was going on in last weeks adventure? How Dustin’s powers couldn’t affect the monster like normal and actually absorbed into its skin?! That was genius!” It was now your turn to become timid, your eyes flickering between the club members. From Mike to Dustin, Dustin to Lucas, Lucas to Jeff, Jeff to Gareth, and finally from Gareth to Eddie. Each one had a hopeful and enthusiastic grin on their faces, but it was the dungeon master’s gaze that threw you through the biggest loop. Usually, Eddie would be relaxed, almost like he was unmoved by the inquiry, but when your eyes landed on his figure, he seemed more alert, eyes filled to the brim with hope. It wasn’t a secret that ever since that fateful day where Eddie Munson was waiting begrudgingly by your locker with ever intention to hate you, you and he were bound at the hip. Whether it was a movie night in the basement of your house or sitting in the back of his van parked in the forest outside of town and smoking whatever he had to offer herbal-wise, you two would always include one another. This even caused him to be serious about his second senior year, helping you study which, in turn, made him study as well. Maybe you were still riding the high of a new friendship or maybe you were being a bit delusional, but you thought by the end of last night’s smoke session you saw Eddie’s eyes linger on your lips a beat too long and that his thumb started to rub calming circles on the top of your hand when he caught a playful punch you sent his way. With the nibble of the inside of your cheek, the decision was seemingly made as you pressed your hands flat on your thighs. “Well duh, I’ll join. I’ll need Edward here to help me understand the entire concept, though.” Gazing back up to him, you saw that his gaze had softened and had the starry-eyed look he usually got when writing lyrics or musing about his dreams to graduate and finally get out of Hawkins. The use of ‘Edward,’ however, pulled him straight out of whatever daydream he was in and made his softened features go rigid with a playful rage. You knew it, he knew it, and that’s all that matters. Everyone at that table knew if they dare speak his full legal name their bloodline would end right that moment, but with you it was different. “Well welcome to Hellfire, you scoundrel.”

Jeff was the first to call Eddie out on his favoritism while setting up the theater with the draping fabrics and fake cobwebs the older male had gotten on a five-finger discount. Gareth was busy unfolding the long, plastic table to coherently take part of the conversation, though he wouldn’t want to if he was fully checked in. “I’m just saying, Eddie,” Jeff groaned as he overstretched his arm to hang up the last of the decorations, “usually you wouldn’t let anyone see your old campaigns, let alone character sheets from when you first started playing but you’re going to show Y/N? What happened when that one kid wanted to join but needed to be shown the ropes? The one you sent running with a piss stream down his leg?” Eddie’s brow arched as he finished organizing the plotline for tonight’s adventure, taking in what his other Corroded Coffin counterpart was saying. Shaking his head while the tip of his tongue peaked out in focus, he looked to Jeff with a quick, dismissive, roll of the eye before cracking his knuckles. “Its not favoritism, asshole. She’s new! This is the first time she’s felt wanted anywhere in a school setting, so I want her to continue feeling that way.” Helping Gareth now spread the map of the land drawn onto the fabric of a thrifted white tablecloth, Eddie looked over to Gareth before Dustin bounded in with Mike and Lucas in tow, a heated conversation between the three going on. “Anyways, you both know what it’s like to find a new group of people after feeling alone for what seemed like forever! Why would you attempt to call my charitable kindness,” with a groan, the two other members of Corroded Coffin knew Eddie was revving up his tearful dramatics just for show, “favoritism!? Have I not shown the same kindness to you? Taking you under my wing and guiding you to success in your ventures?” Acting like an arrow was shot through his chest, the man flung himself back into his throne – a crappy prop chair from last years musical that he decorated with furs and warped plastic that was spray painted to fit the theme of the campaign – with a hand clenched his heart. The three younger boys stood steps back from the table, their faces contorted in confusion as they watched their DM go on and on about how unfair it was to doubt his integrity. However, Dustin was the first to speak out to cut Eddie off. Looking around the theater for any sign of you, Dustin shot Eddie a cheeky grin before propping himself in his designated seat and pulling out his dice set from his bag. “Well to me it would seem like you may have a little crush on her.” With a chorus of ‘oooooo’s and laughs, the oldest out of the group looked bewildered before trying to look stone faced. “Dustin, your girlfriend,” making air quotes with his fingers as he said girlfriend, “lives in another state. She might not even be real, we never met or even talked to her so shut it.” Huffing back into his chair, the lanky brunette’s head popped up as the heavy doors were pulled open and you ran onto the stage while looking a bit disheveled. Your favorite sweater was off your shoulder and the spaghetti strap of your tank top with it whilst there were stains of what could be oil pastels on the thighs of your dark wash jeans that were obviously well worn. Flinging your bag onto the floor at the only empty chair, you look around to all the members eyes on you. “What..am I really really late? I’m so sorry, Ms. Azria kept me late in art because she wanted to talk about my finished art piece!” Picking at your fingers, Gareth smiled up to you from across the table while shaking his head. “No no you’re ok, we all just sat down.” As those words left his lips, your shoulders relaxed, and you fixed yourself before sitting on Eddie’s left side where your chair was. Looking over to the messy haired man, you offered a smile and a look as if to ask if he was okay in which you got a nod in response. The art of wordless communication was one that you both mastered by the first week of being friends with one another. Sometimes words seemed to fail between you two when the high kicks in, giggles and coughs overtaking you, mostly. So, some kind of nonverbal code was created and used since, eyerolls and furrowing of brows showed concern and annoyance whereas brows raised, and hidden smirks were a sign of amusement and stifled laughs. “Okay good, um,” pausing, you pull out the sheet that Eddie drew up at the end of lunch and placed it in front of you. With regained composure, Eddie handed you his D20 and smirked with a tilt of his head.

“Well... let’s see who you truly are.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson my beloved #fem reader #Stranger things #Stranger things fanfic #stranger things drabble #stranger things s4 #eddie x you #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #corroded coffin

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sweetdreamsjeff · 4 months

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IN A SAD STATE OF GRACE

DROWNING CLAIMS SINGER JEFF BUCKLEY AND STILLS ONE OF FOLK ROCK'S MOST PROMISING YOUNG VOICES

By David E. Thigpen

Monday, June 16, 1997

When he decided to escape the muggy Memphis heat with a quick plunge into the Wolf River, singer Jeff Buckley had every reason to feel buoyed by good fortune. At 30 he was signed to Columbia Records--the home of Bob Dylan and Miles Davis--and had just settled into a cozy old house in town to begin recording a follow-up to Grace, his powerful 1994 debut. That album, a darkly romantic and stunningly original blend of folk, blues and alternative rock, had earned Buckley a reputation as a superstar in the making, much as Greetings from Asbury Park did for Bruce Springsteen in 1973. Buckley's rise was tinged with poignancy. Success promised to lift him at last out of the haunting shadow of his father, the brilliant folk singer Tim Buckley, who died of a heroin overdose in 1975 at age 28.

But on the evening of May 29, after driving to the Memphis marina with a member of his road crew, Jeff inexplicably waded, fully clothed, into the muddy river. As the roadie watched from the riverbank, Buckley swam far out. When the wake of a passing boat splashed ashore, the roadie turned away for a moment to move Buckley's guitar and radio to safety. When he looked up again, Buckley had disappeared. He never came back up. After six days of searching, police last week pulled his body from the water near Beale Street, Memphis' music row.

News of the accidental drowning unleashed an outburst of grief that attested not just to the tragedy of a young man's life cut short but also to the uncommon force of his music. In the hours after his disappearance, fans from around the world--Canada, Australia, the Netherlands and even Singapore--inundated his record label with worried messages. In New York City's Greenwich Village, Buckley's home turf, scores of fans brought candles and flowers to Cafe Sin-e, the former coffeehouse where he first drew crowds with his spiraling voice and captivating intensity. "His music was so beautiful it made the hair on your neck stand on end," said a weeping fan. "He was special," said Columbia Records president Don Ienner. "We saw the future in Jeff."

That Buckley's life ended in awful symmetry with his father's was a painful irony. The younger Buckley had long struggled to escape the label of "Tim's son." He had met his father only once, at age 8. Tim Buckley left home the year his son was born, a fact that may have fueled the melancholy, beauty and despair that swirled within Jeff's songs. In one of his own final acts of grace, Buckley said to a close friend, "Remember that I forgive my father, and I just have to move on." He seemed to be doing just that when he was pulled under.

--By David E. Thigpen

#jeff buckley #In a sad state of Grace #David E. Thigpen #Time Magazine #DROWNING CLAIMS SINGER JEFF BUCKLEY AND STILLS ONE OF FOLK ROCK'S MOST PROMISING YOUNG VOICES #June 1997 #June #1997

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bloodfreakcastiel · 8 months

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[every single time i hear lover you should come over by jeff buckley] you don’t understand. its literally never over. ITS NEVER OVER. cas told dean i love you and dean is still in that room, he’s still on that floor, his tears are still breaking the silence that cas’ presence once filled. it’s never Over. dean is always in that car, he’s always driving down that road, he’s always looking, waiting, driving, and secretly wishing that he was able to lose his mind in heaven if it meant he could see cas walking on the side of the road from the corner of his eye. its never over. he never said it back. it’s never over, it can’t be over. he told mary he was looking for his family. he’ll find him, HE’LL FIND HIM.

anon how dare you come into my house and make me have feelings like this 😭😭 i also think about Them™️ when i hear this song OUGH yeah babes fucking yeah

#asks #ask.anon

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taminoarticles · 2 years

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— Tamino for M Le Magazine du Monde (x) (Original French text)

With "Sahar", Tamino makes his velvet revolution

Four years after a first noticed album, the Belgian singer returns with a record imbued with sweetness that mixes rock, pop and oriental influences.

By Stéphane Davet Published on September 18, 2022

He was a flamboyant revelation of the European scene in 2018, thanks to a first album, Amir. Here he continues in the same romantic vein mixing rock lyricism and oriental roots. Always of a haughty presence, with his slender waist, brown curls and aquiline nose (his mother had chosen his first name in reference to the hero of The Magic Flute), the Antwerper of Egyptian origin bets, at 25, on the intimate depth of sounds and feelings to illuminate Sahar, a superb second album dominated by acoustic heat and a song of proximity.

After long periods on the road, some artists feel lost in resuming their daily lives, deprived of their technical team and their group. Tamino, on the contrary, has regained his bearings, delighted to reweave his friendships and share new ones, despite the context of the health crisis. "I felt more isolated on tour than during the pandemic.”

Caressing confidences

"I have never used music for political purposes but to express emotions, feelings.” Tamino

Paternal inheritance

A Radiohead to the rescue

Should we see a political message in the way he mixes cultures and influences? "I have never used music for a political purpose but to express emotions, feelings," he says. His mother introduced him as much to Arabic music as to the Beatles, classical music, jazz or folk song. In this second album, we will find references to Leonard Cohen (The Flame), but also to the Latin lounge atmospheres (Cinnamon), dream pop (a vaporous duo with his compatriot Angèle, in Sunflower) or the rock of the 1990s (the training single Fascination).

Sahar, from Tamino (Virgin Records/Universal). November 21 and 22 at the Trianon, in Paris (complete).

#tamino #tamino amir #m le magazine du monde #article #interview #french #2022 #with photoshoot #english translated text

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umflowers · 1 year

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I would love to know your answers to the music questions your reblogged!!!

apsdiofhpasdf all of them? o_o i'm putting this under a cut so my moots don't kill me 😭😭

1: a song you like with a color in the title: tom waits - blue sky 2: a song you like with a number in the title: robert johnson - 32-20 blues 3: a song that reminds you of summertime: mungo jerry - in the summertime 4: a song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about: sia - fire meet gasoline 5: a song that needs to be played LOUD: the amity affliction - all my friends are dead 6: a song that makes you want to dance: none, i don't dance :p 7: a song to drive to: roger miller - king of the road 8: a song about drugs or alcohol: janis joplin (originally by buffy sainte-marie) - codine 9: a song that makes you happy: the beatles - blackbird (jack's song for me 💙) 10: a song that makes you sad: janis joplin - little girl blue 11: a song that you never get tired of: bob marley - redemption song 12: a song from your preteen years: spice girls - spice up your life 13: one of your favorite 80s songs: grateful dead - ripple 14: a song that you would love played at your wedding: george strait - i cross my heart (my song for jack 💙) 15: a song that is a cover by another artist: janis joplin - summertime 16: one of your favorite classical songs: yiruma - kiss the rain 17: a song that you would sing a duet with on karaoke: i don't sing in front of anyone but jack, ever x) but one of my very favorite songs to sing is coal miner's daughter by loretta lynn 18: a song from the year that you were born: bobby mcferrin - don't worry, be happy 19: a song that makes you think about life: pink floyd - hey you 20: a song that has many meanings to you: my chemical romance - welcome to the black parade 21: a favorite song with a person's name in the title: grateful dead - stella blue 22: a song that moves you forward: the amity affliction - don't lean on me 23: a song that you think everybody should listen to: bob dylan - tomorrow is a long time 24: a song by a band you wish were still together: jimi hendrix - valleys of neptune 25: a song by an artist no longer living: jeff buckley - hallelujah 26: a song that makes you want to fall in love: led zeppelin - thank you (jack's other song for me 💙) 27: a song that breaks your heart: a perfect circle - judith 28: a song by an artist with a voice that you love: bring me the horizon - the house of wolves 29: a song that you remember from your childhood: deana carter - strawberry wine 30: a song that reminds you of yourself: buffalo springfield - bluebird

#lovely people being lovely <3 #ask #answered

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brooklynislandgirl · 1 year

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From my beloved @mouthoftheocean Optional tag: Music-fiends, you know who you are. 1. a song you can listen to on repeat Red Right Hand || Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Whatever It Takes || Imagine Dragons 2. a song from one of your favorite albums Alive || Pearl Jam - 10 Levon || Elton John - Madman Across the Water 3. a song you loved when you were a teenager or kid Mr Brownstone || Guns N Roses Me and Bobby McGee || Janis Joplin The End || The Doors 4. a song that makes you feel strong The Warrior Song - Leviathan || Sean Householder Wolf Totem || The Hu 5. a song that makes you sad Indian Sunset || Elton John The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald || Gordon Lightfoot Pirate’s Plea || The Musical Blades 6. a song that cheers you up Can’t Stop || Red Hot Chili Peppers Mwahahahah || Ookla the Mok Survivor Evolved || Neebs Gaming ft. JT Music {{RIP Thick44}} 7. a song that reminds you of your friend(s) Lux Aeterna || Clint Mansell Throw Your Arms Around Me || Hunters and Collectors Sugar in the Hold || The Jolly Rogers Friends in Low Places || Garth Brooks 9. a song that reminds you of yourself Texas Longhorn || Django Walker Closer to the Heart || Rush A Pirate Looks At Forty || Jimmy Buffet 10. a song that brings back good memories Get the Funk Out || Extreme Amarillo By Morning || George Strait Sex Type Thing || Stone Temple Pilots {feel free to ask why} 11. a song that grew on you Smooth Criminal || Alien Ant Farm {cover} On a Boat || The Lonely Island 12. a song from a musical Music of the Night || Michael Crawford - Phantom of the Opera Right Hand Man || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles - Hamilton You’ll Be Back || Jonathan Young - Hamilton Falcon in the Dive || Terry Mann - The Scarlet Pimpernel Into the Fire || Douglas Sills and Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Madame Guillotine || Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Stars || Phillip Quast as Javert - Les Miserables 13. a song with a great music video Sweep the Leg || No More Kings Jack Sparrow || The Lonely Island 14. a song that’s better as a cover Temple of Love || Johnny Hollow The Plagues || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles -Prince of Egypt Old Town Road || Richaad EB and Jonathan Young 15. a song that’s better acoustic Down in a Hole || Alice in Chains Radioactive || Daughtry {cover} 16. a song with great lyrics Anybody Listening? || Queensryche Comfortably Numb || Pink Floyd 17. a song for summer Santeria || Sublime When the Sun Goes Down || Kenny Chesney Toes || Zac Brown Band 18. a song for heartache Snuff || Corey Taylor {Slipknot} Fuck You || Cee Lo Green and Daryl Hall

19. a song for car rides Life is a High Way || Rascal Flatts Free Fallin’ || Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Calypso || John Denver 20. a song for the rain Featherstone || Paper Kites What Kind of Love || Childish Gambino Nocturne #20 in C Sharp Minor || Chopin 21. a song for dancing Can’t Dance || Cooper Allen Rodeo || Garth Brooks What I Love About Sundays || Craig Morgan 22. a song for making out Hole-Hearted || Extreme More than Whiskey in Mind || Christian Kane Bad Romance || Lady Gaga 23. a song for a lover Hallelujah || Jeff Buckley A Thousand Years || Christina Perri I’ll Be || Edwin McCain 24. a song from before you were born White Rabbit || Jefferson Airplane Killer Queen || Queen 25. a song from a band that’s no longer together Blow Up The Outside World || Soundgarden Big Empty || Stone Temple Pilots 26. a song you’ve seen live Operation LIVEcrime || Queensryche {{yes the whole album/show}} 27. a song you want to see live Hollywood Pirate || The Musical Blades House Rules || Christian Kane 28. a song by a band you don’t usually like Bang Bang || Jessie J, Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj 29. a song you recommend Montero || Lil Nas X

#Turtle Music #If you know...you know and msg me

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iamdexter123 · 1 year

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For the songs game: 4, 19, 27!

4. A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget

Lies by Marina and the Diamonds

I was in my late teens and ended up in a years long lover-style scenario with the manager of my local pub (it was a cool pub, btw; all the creative artsy young peeps hung out there). At some point I was at his house after he finished work, and as we always did we listened to some music and had a drink before heading to bed. This acoustic version of the song came on and I said, “this song reminds me of you,” and he actually listened to the lyrics and said, “I make you feel that way?” And it was probably the most honest we’d ever been with each other, apart from the end of everything when he finally confessed that he could be happily married for ten years and still want me but I’d never be his girlfriend because I ‘challenged’ him. I’d rather forget it because for years afterwards that’s what I viewed myself as: the girl who couldn’t be loved because it was too hard to. Boy did I make some interesting life decisions suffering under that narrative 😂

19. A song that makes you think about life

Satisfied Mind, cover by Jeff Buckley

I am an absolute sucker for the blues, and I want this played at my funeral. It is my life motto in a song.

27. A song that breaks your heart

Unknown Road (Piano Version) by Pennywise

A strange addition; my brother was into punk/ska for a time and this was a hidden track at the end of the Unknown Road album and I used to hear it through my bedroom wall. The song was a tribute to a band member that had died during the recording of the album, I think (maybe someone’s brother? I can’t remember). Anyway, I love that it is a live recording, complete with occasional background studio noises and off-note fuck-ups. But I listen to it and I imagine some heartbroken musician just letting it all pour out the only way they know how. I think it’s around the eight minute mark there’s a build-up that I cry at every single time; it moves me in a way that’s beyond myself. Like I don’t think about my own heartbreak, I think about someone else’s.

Thanks so much for the ask JD, and if you listen to any or all of these, enjoy the overrepresentation of minor chords 😅

#ask games #song asks

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cchapsticck · 1 year

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UNTITLED RECORDING ca. 1987-1988 (32709 words) by cchapsticck Chapters: 12/13 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Jeff (Stranger Things), Gareth (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things), Robin Buckley, incidental OCs Additional Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Recreational Drug Use, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Neurodivergent Eddie Munson, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period Typical Attitudes, Internalized Homophobia, Vignette Narrative Structure, Eddie Munson POV, Character Study, Relationship Study, Discussions of Parental Neglect, Self Referential Homophobic Language, In This House We Handwave Away The Vecna Situation Conclusion, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits To Lovers But No One's Saying It, Implied/Referenced Parental Death, Implied/Referenced Addictive Behaviors, Descriptions of Healing Injuries, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Body Dysmorphia, Blood and Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Mild Sexual Content, Unhygienic Tattoo Practices, Implied/Referenced Childhood Homelessness Series: Part 1 of METALHEAD Summary:

He’s been chain smoking on the bar roof for, like, 45 minutes because he knows he fucked up and doesn’t really know what to do about it. He’s not like. Great at apologizing. Spent a huge chunk of his life steadfastly refusing to do it, actually. Had an aversion to it for some reason. The set’s over, been over, a set he spent slingshotting between feeling like a kicked dog and righteously outraged, but he doesn’t really think he’s got the spine to crawl back in there and like. Explain himself or even muster the audacity to just act like he didn’t absolutely lose his fucking shit at Steve during set up. So instead of his usual post-set route over to the merch table to hassle Steve he just booked it straight up the back steps and hoped no one noticed. Always running, you motherfucker.

Like, they’ve argued before, right? Over dumb bullshit when long stretches on the road in an enclosed space turns you into a little bit of an animal because everything’s moving too fast for you to get a hold of yourself. At least that’s how he feels sometimes. And its been a long week of overnight drives and venue issues and parking lot fist fights and not totally atypical fighting with Gareth and stolen shit out of cars and the checks and balances he’s got to maintain to keep himself feeling like he’s a human fucking being are all in fucking shambles. Like at the car is crashing and the only thing that’s at the wheel anymore is the part of his brain that has a lot of opinions about things.

And he’s tried hiding a lot of shit from Steve about himself - the stuff that makes him feel defective standing on his own two feet next to Steve who’s seemingly defective in an effective way - even if Steve’s no stranger to this particular monster. Their introduction understated and mundane in Wayne’s kitchen; when Steve reached across the counter to pour coffee into the mug Eddie never washes, just rinses in the sink and Wayne, who sees everything, had simply said he likes to do that himself, son and left it at that.

#steddie fanfic #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve x eddie #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steddie fics #stranger things #steve x eddie fanfic #eddie munson #sometimes you are an ugly and unlovable animal #fic: metalhead

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