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whats-9plus10 · 9 months

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Venture Bros.: Radiant is the Blood of the Baboon Heart commentary and extras.

This is what I gathered during my first watch. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload the audio bits like I did for seasons 1-7 eventually! I'll catch all the little details then 💛

Let me get this out of the way. They did not answer the most important question of all.

In the past, Doc and Jackson have said that what they say in the commentary isn't necessarily canon. What is canon is what's in the actual show, not what they explore outside of the show because they're always changing their minds. Sometimes they disagreed while answering questions. Take that as you'd like.

Jonas didn’t abandon The Monarch after the plane crash intentionally. He assumed he died or he ran away before he got there. They hinted that Jonas downed the plane himself.

When asked if Jonas loved Rusty they say he’s a bad person, the villain of the show, and a monster. Jackson thinks he might have been a boy adventurer himself. They compare him to baby boomers forcing their children to live the lives they wanted themselves.

Does Rusty have the other twin killed when only one dies? Jackson says only when they witness the death. He referenced Ice Station Impossible. Brock has done it before.

Ritchie Valens refused to join The Guild and Red Mantle and Dragoon’s (Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper) initiation was to kill him so he wouldn’t tattle.

Doc says the second sons are the ones who succeed in The Guild, not the first sons, because they’re most likely to become evil and that’s why Dean was chosen as The Guild’s successor.

Doc described two episodes he would like to do: 1. "Heads in the water." Which is the heads of characters bobbing in the water after a crash for the entire episode. An all dialog bottle episode. 2. An episode that starts off like a regular Venture Bros episode. Then a henchman dies and everything pivots. 21 calls his wife and says “Real sorry but your husband died in service” (Doc put on his 21 voice here). We then see the wife and daughter (from another marriage) and follow them in their lives.

What is The Monarch's favorite ABBA song? Doc thinks Waterloo and Jackson thinks Take a Chance. They riff as Monarch and Dr. Girlfriend for a few seconds.

Gary's a big Sneaker Pimps fan.

Rusty doesn't have a middle name. If you ask Rusty he'll say the S stands for sexy or science or SUPER science. Rusty’s favorite musical is Starlight Express or RENT (Jackson disagreed). He's never actually watched them but he likes the advertisements.

Brock Frog is the guy that "brings in bagels". A 3rd generation Italian American from "bricklayer stock." He fell out with his dad because he wanted to bring bricks into the future. He teamed up with Professor Vigo Dale, who screwed him out of half of the company after Brick Frog gave him all of his brick ideas.

Mantilla has the ability to make things invisible by touching them but claimed it was teleportation. “It’s all bullshit…and she had money from her past”

Mantilla has been "garbage picking" from The Monarch’s trash, such as Dr. Mrs.'s costume ideas in season 3 that she had thrown away and their wedding invitation.

The guys in the warehouse with Jefferson were all roommates in the 90s.

We would have had a full episode of Force Majeure and Jonas Venture's rivalry.

We would have had another episode of Billy and Colonel Gentleman "John Wicking" after Mischa was found dead right before a doggy costume contest.

Matt Berry was supposed to voice Force Majeure.

Why does The Monarch hate Doc so much? Jackson says “Obviously it (the thought that Debra left him for Rusty) bothers him a little more than he said.”

They called Gary's hair “the popular millennial cut” and made him "half Glen Danzig half Wolverine."

Doc has drunk his own urine multiple times because they pee in bottles in the Astrobase. "Recently".

During the last scene in the movie when everyone is talking, Gary and Hatred were talking about a loofah. Hatred asked Gary "Ah...you use a loofah?". Dr. O was talking about intermittent fasting.

24 made a guest appearance in the "Fan Questions" extra for a few seconds.

They refused to answer the questions about Scare Bear and what Rusty and Billy were doing in the time machine in case they're able to continue the story.

They made a joke about telling people just enough in the commentary to get them excited and want more. (A “joke” haha)

During Prom, Pete and Billy would have studied the Push It video extensively. Pete would’ve entered the dance floor and “boxed it out” to make space. Billy would’ve walked in the circle nonchalantly. Then they would have recreated the entire dance.

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whyiliketitantvman · 3 months

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poisonous take over..🌀.The biggest Art gift I've ever made.

Oh no! Foxhypno foxglove has poisoned all of the critters! And some characters! And Them do her bidding!

Captain Star smile better go stop her before things get worse!

Edit: I don't know how much days I've been working on this sorry I'm bad at remembering sometimes... ;-;

Also the rest of these characters are mine!!!

The blue wolf yellow sheep And Mr. nightWolf belong to @syazam-whazam !!

Dragonjoy Q&A fox Fancygoatgoo grumpy lamby nicely niret naughty nasel and spooky spoody belong to @krislgfox !!

WoolyMelody belongs to @leonakamura

PlatyWally and SoalaSpace Kooky and Kalyganroo belongs to @valentinbelleyh5

Connaxolotl and Retrorabbit belong to @blo0st4r !!

DeerDelight belongs to @jade-green-butterfly !!

Bloom Bloomingbee belongs to @sugary-knacks

Ottersea ottertin belongs to @borisvonshweet !!

valene valixen belongs to @meercat55

batty symphony belongs to @eun-oof !!

positve puppy belongs to @suncatstudiosyt !!

✨so credit to all these amazing creators and their amazing smiling critter OC's✨

Also some of the characters that were poison and hypnotize was

Barnaby (from Billie bust up)

Bob velseb (from spooky month

Black hat (from villainous)

bittergiggle (from garten of banban)

And now I present... ✨ the most low quality doodle of Foxhypno foxglove and Captain Star smile✨

✨So yeah credit to all of the creators and their awesome smiling critters OC's and their amazing talent!!✨

#smiling critters #foxhypno foxglove #captain star smile #doddle #THE LOW QUALITY DOODLE IS XD #At least I tried my best drawing ngl (⁠T⁠T⁠)👍#billie bust up barnaby #bob velseb #black hat #villanos #bittergiggle #HOW TF WAS FOXHYPNO FOXGLOVE ABLE TO HYPNOTIZE BLACK HAT!? O⁠_⁠o

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months

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Charles Kaiser on Bob Dylan.

‘Life is about creating yourself’: on Bob Dylan: Mixing Up the Medicine

[The Dylan Center in Tulsa offers a read as endlessly fascinating, as vital to the American story, as its subject himself]

Charles Kaiser

Ten years before he became Bob Dylan, 10-year-old Bobby Zimmerman had his first mystical experience. Wandering through the house his father had bought in Hibbing, Minnesota, he discovered a guitar in one room, and then “a great big mahogany radio” with “a 78 turntable when you opened up the top” in another.

Sitting on the platter was a country record called Drifting Too Far from Shore. The record with a prophetic title “made me feel like I was somebody else”, Dylan remembered. “That I was maybe not even born to the right parents or something.”

A couple of years later, the young radio addict began to imagine the person he was supposed to be when Little Richard’s cleaned-up version of Tutti Frutti seized the airwaves with its unforgettable “a-wop-bop-a-loo-mop-alop-bam-boom” refrain and became the founding song of rock’n’roll. (Bobby’s high school yearbook would announce his ambition: “To join Little Richard.” His girlfriend then was Echo Helstrom, who might be the subject of Girl from the North Country.)

When Buddy Holly released That’ll Be the Day, Bobby got his next inspiration. The gangling, goofy-looking six-footer with horn-rimmed glasses and the irresistible aw-shucks charm of Lubbock, Texas, made two appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show. For the boy from Hibbing it was love at first sight. From the moment he heard him, Bobby felt “akin, like he was an older brother. I even thought I resembled him. Buddy played the music that I loved – the music I grew up on: country western, rock’n’roll, and rhythm and blues. Three separate strands of music that he intertwined and infused into one genre. One brand. And Buddy wrote songs that had beautiful melodies and imaginative verses. And he sang great – sang in more than a few voices.”

A songwriter who fused multiple registers, and delivered them in multiple voices: the perfect model for a nice Jewish boy obsessed with music who was only a couple of years past his barmitzvah.

A year after Buddy’s second TV appearance, Bobby drove to Duluth (his birthplace) to see his hero in the flesh. The 17-year-old fan was thunderstruck.

“That was a few days before he was gone,” Dylan remembered. “I had to travel a hundred miles … I wasn’t disappointed. He was powerful and electrifying and had a commanding presence. I was only 6ft away. He was mesmerizing. I watched his face, his hands, the way he tapped his foot, his big black glasses, the eyes behind the glasses, the way he held his narrative, the way he stood, his neat suit. Everything about him. He looked older than 22. Something about him seemed permanent, and he filled me with conviction.

“Then, out of the blue, the most uncanny thing happened. He looked me right straight dead in the eye, and he transmitted something … and it gave me the chills.”

Three days later, the V-tailed single-engine Beechcraft aircraft Holly had chartered to avoid another freezing eight-hour bus ride crashed in an Iowa cornfield, killing him, Ritchie Valens, JP Richardson and the 21-year-old pilot. But the transference to his apostle was real.

So far, it has managed to keep Dylan performing for seven decades.

#Bob Dylan #music #words and writing #songs #songwriting

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morallyandrogynoussandwich · 27 days

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3, 5, 6, 12!

Sweet girl!

3) a song that reminds me of summertime

Springsteen - i'm On fire. Lol

The Byrds - I Am a Pilgrim

Lily Allen - Smile

5) a song that needs to be played LOUD

Rush - Tom Sawyer

Bon Jovi- Blaze of Glory

Ritchie Valens - La Bamba

6) a song that makes me wanna dance!

Tracy Byrd - Watermelon Crawl

Unforgettable - Nat King Cole

Asi, Asi - La Onda

12) a song from my preteen years

Haaaa. My dad playing all sorts of music that one wouldn't expect him to...but maybe most of all, the one that sticks out: Lou Bega - the Trumpet (Part IIl). Honorable mention to Erasure - Always and Bob Marley - No Woman, No Cry

You're wonderful. Thank you for these. 😘💚

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ltwharfy · 3 months

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oooh tell me about “The Best of Valen-times” for the ask game, please!

So, this would be a story focused on one of my absolutely favorite minor "Bob's Burgers" characters- Jen the babysitter! I love her so much, I just want to applaud every time she appears on screen! She consistently cracks me, and I love her combination of sweetness and weirdness.

This idea would basically be building off of the story of Jen and Christopher the Notary from "Ferry On My Wayward Bob and Linda"- I imagine it being kind of a character study of Jen ( a bit of background about unsuccessful past attempts at romance), a little backstory of her Christopher prior to the episode, and then ending up picking up after their story ends in the ends in the episode, because I can't resist doing a little episode tag/missing scene stuff.

So, it's not really a well-developed idea, but I do love it. I hope I write it, or at least that we see some more Jen representation in fanfic!

Thanks for asking!

#fic stuff #writing stuff #wip game #thanks for the ask!

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davyrp100 · 1 year

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1970s and 1980 we didnt start to fire

Ralph Macchio Mike Nesmith Peter Tork Micky Davy Jones the Fonz Billy The Kid Buddy Holly Scott Baio Penny Marshall Goodbye We Didn't Start the Fire It was away burning We Didn't Start the Fire john travolta olivia newton john Davy leaves The Band Paul Leaves the beatles hippie War Starts Happy Days Laverne and Shirley Mork and Mindy Piano Man Elton John Michael Jackson David Bowie Diana Ross Oliver & Company Bob Dylan Disney land halloween Full House Friends Friday the the 13th We Didn't Start the Fire We Didn't Start the Fire we try to fight it The Outsiders barbie Dolls Who Framed Roger Rabbit Robin Williams Basses ball Star wars hurts Ritchie Valens Buddy Holly killer clowns mafia bored games hasbro nothing else cute dress prom John Lennon Hot Food cute boys The Karate Kid We Didn't Start the Fire Lennon Passes away What else do I want to say We Didn't Start the Fire it was away hot We Didn't Start the Fire Elvis is still gone Miss him a lot cool Rock Friday night football Jonnie Loves Chachi Passes away Cold war I cant take it anymore We Didn't Start the Fire it was away burning We Didn't Start the Fire

#for school #i didnt make it #billy joel #cover

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candyflossfairy · 1 year

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𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 (𝑒.𝑚. 𝑥 𝑠.𝘩.)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Eddie and Steve exchange Valentine's gifts.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, nipple piercings, cock piercings, oral (m recieving), anal stretching/fingering, fuck machine usage, "Daddy", face slapping.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2.8k

“Baby… wake up…”

“Mmm?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Eddie gently stirred from sleep, rolling over to koala himself back around Steve who yelped as he was forcibly pulled against Eddie’s chest. Eddie rubbed his stubbled chin against Steve’s head, sighing sleepily.

“Eds, c’mon,” Steve hummed, kissing Eddie’s bare chest, “I made breakfast.” He bribes quietly, his hand sliding around Eddie’s lower back.

“Mmm..tired.” Eddie yawned in response. He’d gotten home late last night from work, so Steve definitely understood.

“You don’t want your present?” Steve chuckled softly.

“Pres…?” Eddie slurred, humming shortly after.

“Yeah,” Steve grinned, pressing a kiss against Eddie’s chest, “Present, baby.”

Eddie groaned in response, Steve gently pressing kisses down his chest before he pressed a hand against Eddie’s shoulder to roll him onto his back. Steve’s lips slid down Eddie’s abdomen, just delicately brushing his skin. He tugged Eddie’s boxers down and kissed his cock. It twitched in response.

Steve grasped it in one hand and gently stroked it before taking it in his mouth. He gently suckled the tip, his hand working the rest of his length.

“Steve, mm..” Eddie sighed, reaching down to grab a handful of his hair. His other hand rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was definitely more awake now.

Steve hummed around him in response, looking up at him as he bobbed his head down to take more of him into his mouth. His tongue flattened against the bottom of his shaft, rubbing up and down and brushing against his pierced slit.

Eddie squirmed slightly with every brush of Steve’s tongue against him. He had been more sensitive there ever since he’d gotten the head of his cock pierced. It was funny how that worked, but neither of the men complained about it.

Nor about how sensitive Eddie’s nipples were, now that they were also pierced.

Speaking of, Steve’s free hand slipped up to tweak one of Eddie’s nipples, causing the older male to moan louder, his back arching slightly.

Steve took all of Eddie into his mouth, Eddie’s cock hitting the back of his throat. They both moaned, Steve from the feeling of Eddie’s stretching his throat and mouth, and Eddie from the feeling of Steve deepthroating him.

Eddie held his head down by his hair, pushing himself impossibly deeper into Steve’s throat before he let him go, Steve sputtering softly as he caught his breath. He was a trooper, though, he went back down immediately, now bobbing his head quickly as he gently played with Eddie’s balls.

He wanted his cum. Desperately.

Steve hollowed his cheeks as he went back up, sucking. Eddie’s moans urged him on as he continued his movements until Eddie was bucking up into his mouth.

Shortly after, hot cum was shooting into the back of Steve’s throat as he kept going, milking Eddie’s cock for all he had.

He swallowed as he popped off, swiping his lips with the back of his wrist before crawling up to kiss Eddie.

“Mmm… good morning.” Eddie sighed, a little spent but very relaxed.

“Good morning, baby. Happy Valentines Day.” He kissed his cheek before hopping out of bed.

“Happy Valen— where are you going?” Eddie whined.

“Breakfast. I told you. It’s ready.” Steve winked at him, before leaving to go to the kitchen.

Eddie begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed. He yanked his boxers back up and followed Steve’s lead, his hair a puffy mess around him.

They ate breakfast, leaning against one another as they munched on toast and chewed on their eggs, and soon hopped into the shower together.

They’d both taken off work today. Steve had demanded it. He had plans.

The shower was fairly uneventful, just soft kisses and whispered sweet nothings as they washed each other up. As they toweled off, Steve grinned excitedly at Eddie.

“Are you ready to exchange gifts?” He asked, hanging his towel back up.

“I am, if you are.” Eddie grinned back at him.

“Let’s go.” Steve said, a little hop in his step as he left the bathroom and walked into their bedroom.

They each grabbed their present, Steve’s being a light-weight box wrapped in red heart paper, and Eddie’s being in a soft pink bag with red sparkly paper on top.

“You go first.” Eddie said, which completely worked in Steve’s favor.

He pulled the paper out, effectively getting sparkles everywhere. They shared a laugh as Eddie reached over to try and rub some of it off of Steve’s face; to no avail—it stuck. Steve pulled out a large heart-shaped box of chocolates, a new bottle of cologne, and —

“Eddie, you didn’t.” He laughed loudly, pulling out the black, lacy lingerie.

Lingerie wasn’t uncommon in their sex life, but this particular set was one that Steve had been looking at. It was strappy, lacy, and the bottom was just big enough to fit Steve’s cock. The ass was out, so it was free fucking without having to deal with clothing burn on Eddie’s cock.

“I did, sweetheart.” He chuckled, winking at him.

Well, they’d get good use out of it. Not even just today.

Steve passed Eddie his box and Eddie shook it with a strange look on his face. It was a rather large box for it to be so light.

“Just open it,” Steve laughed.

He did, tearing open the paper like it was Christmas morning. He reached over on the bedside table for a knife to pop the tape on the box open.

He opened up the cardboard flaps and peered inside.

His eyes narrowed.

“An envelope?” He asked, chuckling. “Why did you wrap an envelope in a box?”

“For dramatic purposes. Open it!” Steve pressed.

Eddie pulled the envelope out and placed the box aside. Inside of the envelope was a small letter.

Dear Eddie —

Happy Valentines Day!

I’m sure you’re confused as to why I gave you a letter as opposed to an actual gift but this year I wanted you to know that I love you so much more than anything in the world. The only way to do that is to not give you a monetary gift, but to write you a letter.

I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You are quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I am so lucky that I have the opportunity and chance to be with you. You are my one and only, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I go to sleep and wake up thinking about you, even though you’re right next to me. When I’m at work I’m wondering what you’re doing, and if you’re having a good time, if you’re happy. That’s all I really want to do is make you happy.

You deserve to be happy, more than anyone else in the world. I’ve never met someone more deserving.

I hope you’ll do me the honor of marrying me one day, because that’s all I want. You, me, and a few little nuggets running around. Maybe a dog, and a snake, or something. Whatever you want.

Love always

— Steve

P.S. I actually did get you a gift. Check underneath the mattress on your side of the bed.

By the end of the note, Eddie was tearing up a bit, and he laughed at the post script before wiping at his eyes. He didn’t care about the present, he leaned over and kissed Steve deeply.

“I love you, so much.” Eddie mumbled against his lips.

“I love you, too.” Steve responded, before gently pushing him away. “Check, I wanna see your face!”

Underneath the mattress was another envelope, to which Eddie glared at Steve who only laughed.

Eddie opened it up, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, and his eyes nearly shot out of his head.

Check the closet.

X.O. Steve

In addition to the little note was a picture. And that picture…was of a fuck machine. Not just any fuck machine, but the fuck machine Eddie had been wanting to get for them.

“You’re serious? How did you get it in there?” Eddie laughed, as he pulled himself from the bed to check.

“Last night while you were at work. You never go in the closet when you get home, so I assumed it was safe.” Steve grinned, getting up to follow him.

Eddie opened the doors to the closet and there the machine sat in all its glory. Steve had set it up and everything. It was ready to go.

“There are other attachments in this box.” Steve pulled it down from a shelf in the closet. “But I figured we’d want to start off easy.”

Eddie grinned at him, widely.

Steve went a little pale.

“Sure, we can start easy.” Eddie chuckled, flicking the dildoed end of the machine. “Let’s give it a try, huh?”

Eddie lifted the machine and brought it over to the bed. Thankfully, their mattress was pretty firm so it was leveled and stabilized easily. He got everything plugged in and set up while Steve lounged back, watching him, his heart beating in his chest.

“Come here.” Steve told him, his voice low once Eddie was finished.

“No, go put on the lingerie.” Eddie laughed.

“Oh, yeah.” Steve chuckled back, getting up and grabbing the fabric. He quickly slid it onto his body and hooked the back. Now he was ready.

Steve climbed back into the bed and Eddie crawled over to him, kissing him deeply. They’d never gotten dressed after showering, so both were still naked — save Steve’s lingerie. Eddie slid a hand down to Steve’s crotch, wasting no time as he gently rubbed him to get him hard beneath the thin fabric.

Steve arched up into his touch, releasing a breath against Eddie’s lips. He loved it when Eddie touched him like that. Well, he loved it when Eddie touched him in any way, at all.

Eddie reached for the lube, dripping some into his palm before spreading it around with his fingers, his lips never leaving Steve’s. Once his digits were slicked up he pressed two against Steve’s hole, gently massaging him open. Eddie was almost always careful when he prepped Steve, but some days he was just a little impatient.

Steve didn’t really mind it when he was impatient.

Eddie pressed a single finger in once Steve’s hole relaxed a little more and pumped it in and out at a slow pace as his tongue massaged Steve’s.

Steve moaned softly into Eddie’s mouth, pressing gently against his hand. He was begging for more with his body, already relaxed around the first finger. Eddie pressed in a second and slowly moved it, fingers crooking around to find Steve’s prostate.

Steve jolted when Eddie’s fingers brushed against it, his toes curling as he broke the kiss to catch his breath.

“Fuck—” Steve gasped, his eyes fluttering.

Eddie chuckled, crooking his fingers into that spot again, making Steve’s cock twitch.

“Good boy,” Eddie hummed, kissing his cheek. Slowly, he introduced the third finger, and spread them apart gently, getting Steve good and stretched for the machine. Steve was beginning to squirm against Eddie’s fingers, a sign that he’s ready for something more.

Not that Eddie hadn’t gotten him off with just his fingers before — he had.

Eddie pulled his fingers from him and kissed his temple before getting up. He grabbed a rope from the closet. “On your knees, hands behind your back.” Eddie told him.

Steve obliged, sitting on his knees with his arms folded behind his back. He was panting softly, worked up, cheeks pink.

Eddie looped the rope around his wrists, around his shoulders, his chest, expertly tying him into a situation he couldn’t easily get out of. He pressed on Steve’s shoulder when he was finished, making his chest flat against the bed.

Eddie spread some lube onto the dildo before bringing the machine closer to Steve. “Scoot back a little.” He told him, and Steve did, a shiver running down his spine as he felt the dido rub against his hole.

Eddie pressed it forward, so the tip was breaching him, Steve moaning in response, before turning it on to the lowest speed.

Steve’s back arched instantly, his head turned to the side and his mouth open wide to allow moans to flow from his lips.

Eddie grinned, watching him. He sat down and pulled Steve’s head into his lap, gently stroking his hair back.

“That’s a good boy,” He hummed, “Taking a toy into your pretty hole, yeah? I know it’s not as big as daddy, but it does the job, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes..” Steve whimpered, his hips rocking back with every thrust of the machine.

“You’re gonna stay on this for a while for me. I’m gonna watch it fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” Eddie whispered to him. “Who knows how many orgasms that’ll be.” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss Steve’s hair.

Steve moaned in response, his legs already shaking slightly.

“What? Are you already almost close? Did I get you worked up that much? Oh, what a silly boy.” Eddie chuckled. “Don’t you cum yet. Daddy didn’t tell you that you could.” He continued stroking his hair.

Steve made an unsatisfied noise, sucking in a shuddery breath as he stilled and allowed the machine to keep fucking him on it’s own.

“Trying to hold back like a good boy? Gotta stop letting it hit so deep?” Eddie cooed.

“Mh—m,” Steve confirmed, panting softly.

“Does your belly feel warm? Are you ready to cum?” Eddie asked.

“Please—” Steve breathed out.

“Mm… nope. I don’t feel like it yet.” Eddie chuckled. He reached over and flipped the machine a setting higher.

“Please, please, please, oh—fuck, Eddie, I can’t—” Steve whined, his body trying to pull away from the machine.

“No, no, you gotta take it, baby. Be a good boy~” Eddie teased.

“Fuck—fffffuck—” Steve’s body shook as his first orgasm hit him in a heavy wave.

Eddie tsk’d at him, clicking his tongue.

“I told you to hold it.” He sighed.

“Shit—Daddy, I’m sorry—” Steve started, but Eddie cut him off.

“You messed up, didn’t you? And you made a mess in your pretty lace that daddy bought for you.” Eddie sighed. He clicked his tongue again, before he lifted Steve’s head by his hair with a rough yank.

Steve looked at him, shocked, the machine still fucking him from behind. Eddie’s hand whipped back, before he slapped Steve’s cheek roughly.

Tears welled in Steve’s eyes, his cheek turning slightly red with a handprint.

Eddie gently rubbed his fingers against the cheek. “Be better. I know you can be.”

Steve nodded, and Eddie returned his head to his lap, gently rubbing his fingers through his hair.

Steve was panting, his body warm all over from his orgasm, but he was already worked up again because he was still being fucked, and he loved it when Eddie slapped him like that.

He moaned loudly, trying to take in large breaths of air to calm himself.

“I’m turning it up again.” Eddie told him, before leaning over to flick it one higher.

Now this, this was the pace Eddie used when he was going for a quick fuck and there was something so inherently dirty about it that Steve was aching on the inside. He wasn’t stranger to having multiple orgasms when they had sex, but this was really different because the machine didn’t get tired.

Eddie did. They had to take breaks sometimes.

Steve’s belly spasmed, he was trying to hold back his second orgasm, but it was harder than the first. He groaned, his ass already sore from overuse.

“You gonna cum again, baby?” Eddie asked him.

Steve nodded.

“Okay… I guess I’ll let you this time,” Eddie hummed, “If you scream my name.” He chuckled.

Steve flushed deeply, but he had no qualms following the direction. He’d screamed Eddie’s name plenty of times while cumming—even though they got complaints from their neighbors sometimes.

“Eddie!” Steve shouted out desperately as he came, panting loudly as he saw stars.

However, the machine kept going, working him fully through his orgasm as his hips pressed back against it.

“I can’t— I can’t—” Steve gasped, “I need a break Eddie, please.” He whined.

Eddie, instead of switching it off, flipped it up to its highest speed. It whirred as it went faster, Steve shaking wildly in his arms.

His balls burned, his ass burned, he really couldn’t take much more.

“Please, please, please, please—” He gasped, his body jolting forward with every thrust of the machine.

Finally, giving some grace, Eddie flipped it off.

Steve panted and shook in his lap as Eddie reached behind him to untie and loosen the rope. He pulled Steve into his lap fully and cradled him, kissing his head.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, nuzzling his hair. “Hmmm?” Steve asked, blearily, sleepy, “Mmm..yeah I am.”

“Wanna soak in the bath?” Eddie asked, kissing his lips quickly.

“Please,” Steve sighed.

Eddie went and ran him a bath before carrying him in. He was gentle as he cleaned him up, letting him relax in the warm water.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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globalfilmlocations · 2 years

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La Bamba (1987) Film Locations

La Bamba is a 1987 American biographical film about the life and career of rock and roll singer Ritchie Valens. The film stars Lou Diamond Phillips as Valens, Esai Morales as Ritchie’s brother Bob and Connie Stevens as Valens’s mother. The film tells the story of how Ritchie became a star with his song “La Bamba” in 1958, only to die tragically in 1959 when he was only 17 years old. Did you…

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#Biographical #california #film locations #La Bamba #Ritchie Valens #Rock and Roll

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naturesfirstgreenisgold · 1 month

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American As Pie-short story-

I awake to my radio alarm playing ‘Peggy Sue by Buddy Holly,but I turn of the radio before the song ends. I quickly shower and get dressed, late for my paper route. I hopped on my red hand-me-down bike and rode to the Whiteridge Press Building to get my papers as soon as I got them, the February Upstate New York wind chilled me to my bone. I looked down to read the headlines and one caught my eye “Three Rock’N’Roll Singers Plus Pilot Die in Tragic Plane Accident” I kept reading “Holly,22, Richardson,28, Valens,17, and Peterson,21. All died in the wee morning hours of February 3rd 1959 due to inclement weather conditions, they crashed in a field in Iowa roughly 30 minutes after take off.” I just froze, it was always my dream to play the guitar like Ritchie or sing like Buddy, but I didn’t have time to mourn now because if I didn’t hurry I’d be late for school too. I quickly got back in my bike with every paper I threw, I reread the headline to ensure I read it right

As I kept throwing the papers I was thinking of Buddy’s wife, The Big Bopper’s wife, and Ritchie’s girlfriend, I thought about how Ritchie was only six years older than me.

After my paper route, I went to class, but I didn’t focus at all, I just wanted to get home and play my old Rickenbacker from when my dad was a kid. And I did just that, I went home and played my guitar every night, destined to become the next great like Buddy, Ritchie, Elvis. Over time my sandy hair grew longer, I got thicker-brimmed glasses, I lost the baby fat, and I’ve gotten good at guitar and new idols: The Beatles, The Doors, Bob Dylan, and The Beach Boys. I’ve met this girl Jane. She’s in my English class and is smart as a whip. I start walking her to class.

“Jane,right?” I asked, knowing the answer all ready but just wanting to start a conversation.

“Yes and you’re Russell, right?” She asks with a smile.

“Yep, that’s me. You should go to the Levee with me and some friends tonight.”

“I’ll see,” she said

“Ok,” I say dropping her at her class.

“Bye, Jane,” I say

“Bye, Russ, see you later” She smiles

I have to run to get to my class on time. All class, I was writing lyrics and daydreaming about her. After school, I pick up my paycheck and call Jane from a pay phone.

“Hey, Jane” I speak into the phone

“Hey, Russ” She speaks happily.

“What did your parents say?” I ask

“I can” She replies

“Okay,I’ll be over in 20 minutes” I say

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then” She replies

“Bye” I say before hanging up

“Bye” she replies

I get in my truck and turn it on, then turn on my radio, and Dion and The Belmonts are playing on in my ‘60 Chevy C10. I drive to her house just listening to the radio and singing along.

When I get to her house, I knock on her door.

“Hello, sir, I’m Russell and I would like to take your daughter out tonight to the Levee with some of my friends and their girlfriends, but before we meet them, we will probably go to get a hamburger somewhere, sir,” I say nervously to her dad who answers the door.

“Do you plan for there to be more of these, young man?” the 6’5 intimidating man asks.

“Yes sir,” I say

I see her come down the stairs and say “Dad, stop scaring him.” She looks gorgeous in jeans and a button-up blouse, her caramel-colored hair wrapped up in a bandana.

“Wow,” is the only thing I can mutter. I lead her to my truck and open the door for her. Then I get in the truck and ask her what she wants for food.

“Ummm, how about that local hamburger place downtown?” She asked

“I pay and you get whatever you want, I got paid today,” I say “I must say you look stunning tonight, not that you don't usually but even more so tonight.

I drive to James’ Hamburger Shack. Everyone knows the story behind it since we are in a small town. The story is that James was fourteen years old when the US got involved in World War Two. He was a generally troublesome kid, but not in the eyes of the law just like a bully. One day, his dad just snapped and enlisted him with a false birthday. The Marines knew, but they needed soldiers, so they didn’t report it.

We get to the hamburger place and get our food.

“Okay, so,” I break the comfortable silence “My friends with their girlfriends are going to meet us at the football field, and then they will ride in the bed of the truck to the Levee. Okay?”

“Okay,” she replies contently

We finish eating and go to my truck. As we drive to the football field, I’m joking and laughing. We get to the football field and my friends and their partners get in the bed of the truck.

“Want to roll down the windows?” I ask Jane.

“Sure,” She replies rolling down the windows

“Tell me if you get cold,” I say while rolling down my window “You are as pretty as American Pie.”

When we get to the Levee, it’s dry. Us guys toss and catch a football in the ‘dry in some spots and muddy in others Levee’ while our girlfriends gossip. After a while, I go to Jane and ask if she's ok.

“I’m fine, but you are super muddy and your mom is gonna kill you” she laughs

“Oh, so that's how it is,” I say trying to wipe mud on her.

She starts running and I start chasing her, we both giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Johnnie’s girlfriend, Carol, taking a Polaroid of me and Jane chasing each other. After about four hours of hanging out, I take everyone back to the football field and they get out, so it's only me and Jane in the truck once again.

“Miss American Pie, did you have fun?” I ask smiling while she's cuddled up to me as I drive.

She just nods not having the energy to speak.

“I’m glad,” I say

“You don’t have to say yes tonight, but...” I interrupt myself “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

She stays silent.

“It’s okay, take your time,” I say softly reassuringly.

When get to her house and as I walk her to her door she said “Yes, Russ, I’ll be your girlfriend”

“Okay,” I say excitedly, “Have a good night and sleep well, bye-bye Miss American Pie.”

“Good night, Russ, I had fun” She replied.

I go home and write some lyrics.

“Did you write the book of love/And do you have faith in God above/If the Bible tells you so?/Now do you believe in rock and roll?/Can music save your mortal soul?/And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”

Around six months later, I was going to surprise her with a locket after she had to tutor this jock in the gym one day. I sit outside the gym and watch them dance with their shoes kicked off not to scuff the wooden floor. When she comes out and sees me, she tries to act like nothing is happening.

“I saw you dancing with him,” I say trying not to act hurt.

“What? We were just studying, we weren’t dancing,” She said avoiding eye contact.

“He’s the reason you haven’t been hanging out with me recently, hm?” I say starting to lose my cool, “Just tell the truth.”

“I一 N一 Yes” She tries to lie but the words won’t come out.

“Okay,” I say before handing her the locket, “I was going to ask you to the Valentine’s sockhop, but never mind.”

I get in my truck blast whatever rock station was on and just drive until I reach the iced-over levee. I toss rocks into the ice, breaking it like my heart, shattering it into one million and one tiny fragments. I threw the pink carnations, I was going to give her into the cold icy water. Then I went home and got out the guitar Jane gave me for Christmas and questioned whether I should keep it or give it back to her, It’s a cherry red Gibson Les Paul Solid Guitar Standard 1962 model and tone like heaven. I sit down on my cold hard floor and start writing

“I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck/With a pink carnation and a pickup truck/But I knew I was out of luck/The day the music died”

Eight years later, I was drafted into the Vietnam War on Christmas of 1969, my mom cried, and my current girlfriend, Betty, cried.

I hug Betty and whisper “It’ll all be okay, I promise. I don’t have to leave until the thirtieth of this month, so until then let’s just relax and play the guitar you got me. Okay?”

She just nods and we go to my room and set up my guitar. Betty watches me play my guitar for a while before I get out my old Rickenbacker that was now beaten up from all the use and abuse it endured from me, so I can teach Betty to play.

I look at her with so much love in my eyes, “When I get back I will marry you, I promise, we will grow old together.” I whisper.

She just looked at me and said “Okay,”

“When do you want to go to your parents for Christmas with them?” I ask

“Whenever you want,” she replies while fiddling with the guitar.

“Okay,” I say “I’m going to start getting on better clothes than what I wore around my family.” I go to put on a button shirt and some nice jeans with a newer Converse.

“Okay, I’m ready if you are,” I say helping her up from the ground.

“Okay,” she says as she pulls up on my arm. I help her in my truck, and then I go to start it. The truck whines for a moment before it starts.

“Come on, baby,” I mutter to the truck as it struggles to start.

“I need to start saving for a new truck, what do you think of a Bronco?” I ask Betty.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll be happy with it” She replies holding my hand when I’m not having to shift gears.

When we get to her house, I slam the car in park.

“Ready, Pretty girl?” I ask. She just nods and goes to get out of the truck.

The week flies by and the next thing everyone knows, I’m at the training getting ready to be shipped off to U-Tapao Air Base in Thailand.

A few months later, I write a letter to her.

“My Dear Betty,

I miss you and I wish I was here to see your college graduating. I hate it here, all of the death and violence. Nothing is like it was, they made me cut my hair. Why, some of these kids here can’t even drink, but they can nearly die for a country that butted their nose in a war that wasn’t their business. The only way I’m staying sane is you and thinking about you. I love and miss you. I wish I had time to write more, but they are keeping me busy. Remember, I love you.

Sincerely, Your Love,

Russ”

My service was up at the end of June of 1970. I walked into the airport after landing to protest the war. I get into my now ten-year-old, which barely starts, it's starting to rust and spit and sputter even more than ever, but I guess what happens when you leave a truck that was ridden hard and put up wet to sit for one year. When the truck finally starts, I take the truck to the Ford dealership to buy a new Bronco two-tone red and white with a trade-in and my Army money. After I buy the Bronco, I go to Betty’s to see her. I knock on her door with pink carnations in my hand.

She opens the door jumps in my arms and screams “Russ, you’re home, I missed you!”

I buckle a little from the onset of weight which hits quickly, I whisper “I missed you too. I’m home. I’m safe, I promise. You are even more gorgeous than I remember.” I rub her back.

“I bought a new truck, you know the Bronco I was talking about, I bought,” I say

After a few moments, we get in the new truck and go ride around the small town just singing along to the radio and talking.

“Do you want to go see if the Levee has water?” I ask briefly taking my eyes off the road to look at her.

“We can,” she replies.

“Want to roll the windows down?” I ask

“Okay, we can,” She said rolling down her window, her perfect coils of auburn hair blowing with the gusts winds with her aquamarine eyes and perfect, wide, white smile glimming with joy.

I roll my window down and just keep singing and periodically looking over at her. We get to the Levee and I go check and I yell back “It’s dry, what do you want to do instead?”

“Do you just want to go to my house and we can just hang out?” She replies

“We can,” I say getting back in the truck.

I drive us back to her place and when we get there, I just start writing while talking to her and strumming my acoustic guitar and writing lyrics in different orders some one hundred different times.

“And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone/But that's not how it used to be”

I turn the radio and barely ever hear Elvis, I hear Bob Dylan more, I ask Betty, “Did Dylan overtake Elvis while I was in ‘Nam?”

She nods “ Yes, he did.” That inspires me to write the next lyric.

“When the jester sang for the king and queen/In a coat he borrowed from James Dean/And a voice that came from you and me”

I turn on the news, It’s filled with Pro-Vietnam or Anti-Vietnam propaganda depending on which of the channels you are on.

“It’s like a jury with no verdict deciding whether this is fair or not” I quietly say to Betty

“I know, I don’t think it is,” she said quietly.

I write down these lines.

“The courtroom was adjourned/No verdict was returned”

“Do you want to take a day trip down to New York City tomorrow?” I ask

“I would love to, Love.” She replies

Around eighty-thirty post meridiem, I say goodnight to her and go to my parents' house.

“Okay, Love, I’m going back to my parents now, I’ll pick you up at eight ante meridiem. Goodnight darling. I love you.” I say kissing her on the cheek and getting up off the couch.

The next morning, I put a New York City tee-shirt tucked into some jeans with a belt with the jeans cuffed and brand new black Chuck Taylor’s before grabbing my wallet, keys, and a drink for the ride. When I get to her house, I knock on the door and she instantly answers.

We drive the two-and-a-half hours to New York City, laughing and smiling with Betty periodically taking pictures of me and the scenery. When we get there she immediately takes multiple pictures of the skyline with the World Trade Center Towers being built and The Empire State Building emerging from the fog whimsically.

¨Look how beautiful, it’s almost as beautiful as you” I whisper into her hair.

She blushes and hugs me, “Stop, you are making me blush, Russell.”

“Mmm, usually I would say yes ma’am but I like making you blush.” I say quietly, “What do you say to a walk through Central Park, M’lady?”

We walk through New York to Central Park, when I see the opportunity to recreate the cover of “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.”

“Betty, will you please recreate this album cover with me?” I ask almost begging.

She does, and then we contine walking towards the park; When we get to the park, I see a quartet practicing, couples walking happily, and people sitting on benches reading books of different varieties. Then I see him, My idol since I was 16, John Lennon reading a book on Marxism. I look over at Betty to see if she notices him too.

She does and she says “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“No, He looks peaceful and I bet he is tired of people coming up to him, I mean The Beatles just ended like last year, you know, so I’m not going to bother him,” I say calmly.

“Okay, love.” She says as we keep walking through the peaceful meadow, which is like a slice of heaven in the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps. We hold hands not possessively but in a peaceful manner that shows we are comfortable and we want to be close to each other while we walk. We get pictures in Central Park, by the Empire State Building, The Dakota Building, and the Statue of Liberty before we start the driving back exhausted, but content.

“Did you have a good day?” I ask her who’s lying across the bench seat with her head in my lap. She just nods and closes her eyes at peace in my lap while I drive. While she sleeps in my lap, I drive quietly humming along to the music, and sporadically look down to check on her.

When we get around five minutes from Whiteridge, I wake up Betty.

“Hey love, we are around five minutes from home,” I say to her.

“Mmmm, okay, what time is it?” She asks as she tries to regain her bearings after sleeping for two hours.

“Uhhhh,” I say looking at the clock, “About 10:30.”

“Okay,” she said sitting up in her seat.

When we get to her house, I walk her to her door and say “Goodnight my love, I love you so much. Sleep well.”

When I get to my house, I go to write lyrics

“And while Lennin read a book on Marx/The quartet practiced in the park/And we sang dirges in the dark”

I think of a time I haven’t in around eleven years, the day Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P Richardson died in the infamous plane crash that fateful February morning, and how now I’m older than Ritchie will ever be and that I’m one month short of the age Buddy was when he died. I write the lyric “The Day the Music Died.”

Over time I just start writing more progressive lyrics, I start writing lyrics about the Cold War and what’s going on in the world. I think back to before I got drafted and I remember the scene the Charles Manson’s murders caused because he blamed The Beatles' song “Helter Skelter” he said the song told him to do it. I write down “Helter skelter in a summer swelter” before turning on the news. As I flip through the news channels, one that catches my eye; I hear American Pinaist and Composer Earl Grant was killed in a car crash yesterday in Lordsburg, New Mexico along in his car was his younger cousin, Roosevelt Woods III. Grant was thirty-nine and Woods was seventeen. I listen to that story flipping to the next channel where they are still talking about the Cold War like they have been for the last twenty-three years at this point. I kind of wish someone would fire already, I don’t remember a time without the news talking about it. I write “The birds flew off with a fallout shelter/Eight miles high and falling fast”. After that lyric, I decide to go to Betty’s house and just hang out with her.

After a good while of just sitting on her couch and watching television, she asks “Do you want to go to the high school football game they are having alumni night tonight?”

“I mean if you do we can, I’m not dressed very nice, but okay.” I say waiting for her response.

“I do.” She replies.

“Wait,” I pull a box out of my pocket “This isn’t as romantic as I hoped or dreamed it would be, but this is as good of a time as ever, I guess.”

She just stares at me dumbfoundedly

I get on one knee in front of her “Nancy Betty Rodgers, Would you do me the honor and make me the happiest man in the world…”

She starts to cry tears of joy

“And marry me?” I contine

“Yes, Yes one million times yes” she holds her hand out for me to slip the ring on her and I do. We both just smile like little kids on Christmas morning opening their gifts from Santa because we are going to be bride and groom.

We go to the game and within the first quarter, Our team the Whiteridge Patriots tries for around six forward passes but our offense couldn’t catch, then I notice why the star player was on the sideline in a cast. I remember hearing about this, the dude, I think his name is Lucas, but his nickname is Shaggy because of his hair, but I digress, he was messing around with some of his friends on a minibike and he flipped in and broke his arm.

Before we knew it, it was halftime and the marching band, The Marching Sargents, took the field, We all got up to dance along to their music, but it was like a time warp we didn’t have the chance to because the team started on the field. The band refused to yield, causing instruments to be broken and people to fall like a car wreck on the field.

On the way home from the game, Betty and I sit in complete comfortable silence, and during the silence, I ponder who I would’ve become if I wasn’t a paper boy and if I hadn’t seen the headline about Buddy’s, Ritchie’s, and JP’s death at the age of eleven at six-thirty in the morning. Would I’ve had my heart broken by Jane, fallen in love with Betty or even been drafted into Vietnam. Would I have learned to play guitar and gotten serious about it or would’ve turned out like every single other guy in this town and worked at the steel mill like my daddy and his before him? I began to realize that if I hadn’t read the paper that day, I would’ve read the paper another day or another and began to realize how cruel the world is. Just that day, that paper, was how I woke up to the real world and started to mature as a person mentally and emotionally. That was my wake-up call and mine was different from Betty’s, Jane’s, Johnie's, My dad’s, my mom’s, or my brother’s.

When I got home, I wrote the lyrics “Do you recall what was revealed/The day the music died?”

A little under a year later, all our friends and family gathered in one place at my and Betty’s wedding. I stand there at the altar as she and her dad walk down the aisle. I begin to cry seeing my bride looking stunning in her white gown, her auburn coils glimmering in the sunlight. The only thing I can even mouth is woah from my mouth hanging open.

As the wedding moves on, the more in love, I fall staring into her wide aquamarine eyes. When the time of the vows comes I say mine first, “Betty, I fell in love with you the first time I laid my eyes on you and have kept falling ever since. Since I was eighteen and you were seventeen to the time we are one hundred and ninety-nine, I will love you until my dying breath, I swear. I will be the best husband and potential father I can possibly be. You could’ve had anyone you wanted in the world with your sweet personality, blinding smile, shining eyes, and heart-stoppingly good looks, but you chose me, a kid with possibly no future, still running the same paper route since he was ten, guitarist, hopeless romantic, with no athleticism, and you stuck by me throughout my grandparents dying, getting drafted for Vietnam and going away for over a year, you stayed, you loved me. And I don’t think I could ever repay, or show you enough attention to even come close to making it up to you, but I’m going to try. I’ll be here through sickness and health, good times and bad, prosperity and poverty. I’ll be here for you. Always and Forever, I love you, I’m here for you, Always and forever. Now and then. Yesterday and tomorrow.”

Her vows aren’t as wordy as mine but you can tell are just as heartfelt.

After the honeymoon, I start writing more lyrics, “A generation lost in space/With no time left to start again/So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick/Jack Flash sat on a candlestick/'Cause fire is the devil's only friend”

I start going to New York City three times a week, trying to get my music heard. I keep growing my hair and swap my thick Buddy Holly-type glasses for thinner metal frames, I kind of look like an off-brand John Lennon.

While in New York, I go to Janis Joplin's memorial garden. When I finally got my music heard, It was almost like I was Robert Johnson, and sold my soul to the devil at the crossroads. My music became popular it felt almost overnight.

And that’s the story of my most famous song American Pie. Betty and I lasted. I’m now sixty-four and she’s sixty-three years old, we have three boys and a girl, Jackson, thirty-six, Joshua, thirty-four, Jeremy, thirty-two, and Julia, thirty. Currently, we have grandkids with 2 on the way, Lennon and Presley, granddaughters from Jackson, Dylan and Marley, A grandson and a granddaughter on the way from Josh, and Jeremy and His girlfriend have a son on his way. I’m still creating music. Julia is a doctor, Jeremy is an engineer for NASA, Joshua is a lawyer, and Jackson is perusing music like I did. I’ve lived through the deaths of my favorite musicians and I love that people especially teenagers still listen to people like The Doors, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Dylan, Presley, Hendrix, or Cobain. I wish after I pass, I still get listened to and loved.

Ten years later, I passed away after a long-term battle with Cancer which I have been hiding since before that interview and is the reason I agreed to be interviewed in the first place. I passed surrounded by the people I loved the most, My dear wife, My four darling children, and their partners. When I died, I didn’t see the Father, son, or the holy ghost, I saw Buddy, Ritchie, and JP.

People call my death the new day the music died. I live through every time my song is even whistled, I live every time I am: heard, talked about, sung, remembered, or hummed. Just because I am not here physically doesn’t mean I am not here spiritually.

“And they were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie/Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry/And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye/Singin' this'll be the day that I die/This'll be the day that I die/They were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie/Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry/Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye/And singin' this'll be the day that I die”

#short story

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