#also its not said because how would Eddie know? but the list of questions in different handwriting is Joyce's
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Porcelain Steve - Part 6
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.
"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.
"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.
"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."
"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."
"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."
Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"
Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."
"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.
"What?"
"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."
"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.
"You are first, I assume?"
"No. Robin is. She got five pages."
That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.
Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."
He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.
Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?
Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.
"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.
Eddie,
I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.
Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.
Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.
Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.
This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.)
Oh. He means us. - El
Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will
Steve laughed and says thanks. - El
I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?
Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.
"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."
Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.
Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)
"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.
Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.
Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.
Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.
"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.
He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.
Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.
"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."
#steddie#my fic#porcelain steve#having steve write letters to everyone was sparked by jonathans even tho the wonder twins dont admit that#it was a passing comment when he walked in on Will explaining the difference between sorcerer and warlock to El and Porcelain Steve#just a quick 'i wonder what steve would have to say about this if he could talk'#and will and el were like! yes! what WOULD he say? El talk to him#and it evolved from there#also its not said because how would Eddie know? but the list of questions in different handwriting is Joyce's#to avoid campaign spoilers for Will‚ el asked joyce to write that part#they go through all the questions but im not writing those#this was mostly to get a little bit of Steve in here#feels weird to write a steddie fic where steve hasnt even spoken until 9k+ words into the fic#especially since i am NOT a slow burn person‚ not that i count this as slow burn#how do you define slow burn? does this count? help a girl out and let me know
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je ne retrette nien by hitlikehammers
@ tumblr
Rating: Explicit
24,799 words, 3/3 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin Makes It ‘Big Enough’, Big Enough to Have Custom-Cast Novelty Dildos in the Merch Store? Who’s To Say?, Yes: That Concept is Straight Out of the Rammstein Playbook—Thanks For Asking, Husbands Who Snark Together Stay Together, Sex Toys But Make It Also Fluffy, Eddie Munson: Rockstar in the Streets; Clingy Fuck in the Sheets, Corroded Coffin Makes Fornication Music For Their Deviant Fans, (Steve Harrington is their #1 Fan), Steve Harrington Remembers How To Play Five Whole Notes on the Piano, (Five Is More Than Enough to Get Him Into Fucking Trouble), (and an album credit—fucking trouble AND an album credit), Borderline Crack Absolutely Treated Seriously, Because These Characters Would 100 Percent Treat It Seriously, Husbands and Metal and Sex Toys: Oh My!, Very Unapologetically Domestic, They Are Husbands: So FEELINGS, They Are Dorks: So HUMOR, There Are Dildos: So PORN, Because Frankly: It Grew More Feelings, and It Grew WAAAY More Porn, (because of the dildos finally making their appearance natch), Just Steve and Eddie Living Their Best Married Lives Really, In Which Their Biggest Problem Is How To Get Steve To Agree To Making A Silicone Mold of His Dick, That Is In Fact The Entire Vibe of This Fic Yes, Just Rockstar/Coupley Things and Stuff, (including cinnamon flavored lube don’t fuckin @ me), (actually that’s not true pls @ me all the time about these dumb rockstar!husbands), (seriously though iltsm)
Summary:
Eddie always said Corroded Coffin was a band that was ‘big enough’—and Steve generally agreed. They were big enough that the core of their fanbase had evolved from late-80s metalheads to include the vaguely obsessive diehards of the internet era who picked apart liner notes like they held the answers to god and the universe and everything, but they still never had to dodge the paps outside their house. It was weird, but the band was fucking weird, and Steve-and-Eddie were likewise pretty goddamn weird, so it mostly worked out fine.
Until the fans started questioning the stupidly out-of-place performance credit listed on track fucking nine once Studio Album Seven finally got its release date.
- - -
Or: it is perhaps deeply unfortunate that, on the album that Corroded Coffin agrees to release a limited edition box set of custom-cast fucking dildos for, Steve Harrington is unwittingly listed as a contributing musician.
Or else: maybe it’s not unfortunate.
At all.
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was crack treated seriously.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#challenge monday#crack treated seriously#crack fic#rated e#future fic#established relationship
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Lean on me
Summary: Steve is too busy taking care of everyone else to remember to take care of himself. Luckily Eddie shows up just when it all becomes way to much.
Content warnings: hurt/comfort, trauma, nightmares, flashbacks, friends to lovers-ish.
Word count: 3966
Ao3 | masterlist
Steve’s mental list of things to do was endless.
It flooded his mind and caused it to start spinning in a way that was impossible to stop, hence why Steve night after night tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep, trying to remember everything that he had to do.
This particular night, the list began with Dustin.
He needed to take Dustin to school, because Claudia's work schedule really wasn’t compatible at all and she wasn't comfortable with letting Dustin bike his way through town with all that had happened.
Steve also needed to look through the schedule at work to see if he could take some of Robins shifts since she confided in him that she could use a break, she really had been having a hard time since they came back from the upside down.
He needed to check in with the hospital about Max’s future discharge date, and the eventually changes that her home would need to accommodate to the state she was in at the moment, unfortunately he didn’t trust Susan Mayfield to ask these kinds of questions.
He also made mental notes to check in with a lot of people, at the top of the list was Lucas, who was processing a lot, trying to find a new normal with Max. Then came Nancy, who made the decision to break up with Jonathan and now felt bad about it even though it was the right decision.
Then there was the other end of the break up that was harder to keep an eye on, so he needed to check in with Joyce, to ask her to keep a watchful eye over Jonathan, cause Steve had seen him a while ago and he had a slumped expression and the reddest eyes he’d ever seen.
Steve couldn’t really tell if it was from weed or because he had been crying, but he guessed that it was a bit of both. He also needed to make sure to ask if he could help her with anything, cause he knew that she counted on Jonathan for a bunch of things and he really wasn’t in a helpful state of mind at the moment, and Steve didn’t want Joyce to feel overwhelmed.
Also whilst he had Joyce on the line he wanted to hear about how Will was, cause Dustin had mentioned that Will was acting kind of odd when they all were hanging out lately.
Steve remembered the conversation he and Dustin had the other day:
“ How were the boys?” Steve had asked Dustin as he hopped into the car outside the Wheeler house.
“They were good… I guess.” Dustin answered and Steve immediately picked up on the uncertainty of the answer and his brain had gone into panic instantly.
“What's wrong?” He asked, masking the panic that was already making his palms sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel.
“It’s just Will..” Dustin began but before he could finish images of Will under the mindflayers control popped up in Steve’s memory which made his heart pound impossibly faster.
“What about him, is he okay?!” Steve asked before he gave himself the chance to think rationally about it.
“Chill out dude,”Dustin said, shooting Steve a confused glare. “He’s fine, just acting weird, like not when its just him and me, then he’s the usual Will that we all know and love you know but its like… I think that he had a fight with Mike or something and its not totally resolved, cause he got really awkward around Mike, like he didn’t know how to act… Can you talk to him Steve?”
Steve had added that to his mental to do list right then and there;
Check in on Will (and find out if he has a crush on Mike Wheeler)
Another one that Steve wanted to check on was Munson, who’s name had been cleared with some help from Hopper, but who still got around town in a weary manner, hoping that not too many people would still view him as a murderer. Let's just say, Eddie kept a low profile. Which meant that no one in the party had heard from him in a couple of days.
That didn’t sit well with Steve, so many different things could happen to him during that time, it made him worry, probably an excessive amount, but who could blame you when it was over a friend who nearly died a few months ago.
Steve had visited Eddie 3 times a week during the time he recovered from his bat bites and had in that time grown strangely fond of the metal head and his antics.
He missed it, the way he could…relax around Eddie was different. He had this aura that sort of made Steve feel safe in his presence.
Steve didn’t know why he felt like that around him and that was why he wasn’t vocal about it.
The alarm clock woke him with a bang at 7:20 am. He had only fallen asleep 2 hours prior and was tired to say the least.
“Fucking hell” he murmured as he opened his eyes and saw the time.
He had the morning shift at 8 and had to give Dustin a ride before that so he was running positively late. Steve threw himself out of bed and shoved the first available pair of pants on whilst simultaneously looking around his bedroom for a shirt.
He was downstairs in record time and was about to head out when he saw the phone in the hallway and remembered that he had to call Robin before she left for school.
He put his jacket on with the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.
It rang for about 30 seconds until a high pitched voice picked up.
“Buckley residence”
‘Great.. Robins mom’. Steve thought as cleared his throat.
“Hello Mrs Buckley, its Steve” he said, trying not to sound rushed. “Is Robin there?”
“May I ask which Steve?” The older woman asked and Steve wanted to let out the longest possible groan into the phone, she had met him multiple times, surely she knew who he was.
“Steve Harrington, Robins co-worker” he said, ‘and best friend’ he thought.
“Oh right,” the woman arrogantly replied, “I’ll go fetch Robin.”
The seconds it took for Robin to reach the phone felt like hours to Steve who by then would be late for work.
“Robin?” Steve heard her say and it became clear to him that her mother hadn’t mentioned his name to her.
“Hi, it’s me” he said and heard Robin let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank god, I thought it was my aunt Mildred again, she’s trying to convince me to come live with them this summer and I’m so not up for it.”
“Ouch that’s sounds unpleasant” Steve said, without any idea of just how unpleasant aunt Mildred really was.
“Tell me about it,” Robin said, “What can I do for you this morning?”
“It’s more of what I can do for you” Steve said, “Í’ll cover your shift today, and I want you to talk to Ms. Kelly at school.”
Robin noticed the change in his tone immediately.
“Steve, you really don’t have too,” she began but Steve cut her off.
“I want too, I can see that you need a break Robin, now don’t even try to argue with me.” He said, almost scolding the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Okay Steve, I won’t, but I’m not sure about ms Kelly, I can’t even tell her a fraction about what we went through” Robin said, her voice turning to a hushed whisper, probably to not alarm her mother.
“We both know you have things that you can talk to her about” Steve said.
Robin sighed, defeated, knowing that Steve was right.
“Yeah, I’ll look into it.”
Steve knew he was doing the right thing by covering Robins shift but by his 10th work hour he was ready to pull his hair out of his skull. The stream of customers was never ending and Steve had to deal with everything from people who thought he care for their movie reviews to mothers who choose movies themselves only to return later and tell Steve off for not warning them that the movie wasn’t appropriate for kids even though the label said just that.
Steve was knackered to say the least, so when Keith finally flipped the sign from open to closed then he couldn’t have been out of there quicker.
He threw his bag into the passenger seat and turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened.
“Of course” he muttered, tears of frustration leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he hit the steering wheel, “please work with me.”
After three tries he realized that the car battery was dead and he had no other choice than to walk home.
Steve thought about calling someone that could give him a ride home, but didn’t want to feel like a burden, so he decided against it.
When Steve unlocked the door to the empty house he couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. He felt so tired.
Exhaustion felt like the norm more than anything else.
Every limb in his body felt heavy, the headache sat round his head like a much too small flower crown, nausea came and went almost daily.
But even with all these signs, telling him that he needed to rest, Steve couldn’t.
He was wired up, tense, on watchful duty, all hours of the day.
Steve couldn’t remember a day past November 1983 when he hadn’t felt like this.
It only got worse.
Even though he had been promised that Vecna was defeated and the gate was closed, he couldn’t truly believe it. Things could still change for the worse. After all, it had before.
Steves stomach grumbled as Steve pulled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. He glanced towards the kitchen, knowing that he should eat something, because the crackers he downed with a glass of water in Keiths office oh so many hours ago wouldn’t cut it.
The problem was the exhaustion, it was draped over him like a wet blanket and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he opted for an early night.
Upstairs, he noticed the walkie talkie that Dustin made him get when he started to get involved in all of it, and something in his mind told him to keep it close, just in case any of them needed him.
Steve grabbed it and threw it on the bed before he got out of his work clothes and into pajamas.
He went through his mental list of things to do and cursed at himself for doing so little. It also dawned on him that when the car was dead he couldn’t take Dustin to school tomorrow.
Tears threatened to spill over once again at that realization. How would he solve this?
That thought haunted him until he passed out, only halfway under the covers.
Steves eyes opened and he was back there.
He was held against the wall by the vines, and infront of him were them all, tormented by their worst nightmare. Dustin, Robin, Nancy, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, Jonathan, Eddie, all shouting with hoarse, panicked desperate voices for Steve, begging him to come save them from the hell that they were enduring.
All whilst a voice that in some ways sounded like Vecna but in other ways sounded like himself, talked to him.
“You enjoy watching them suffer… admit it”
“You’re way too weak to stop anything anyways, so it's just better to let them all perish.”
“You are a sick person Steve Harrington. Watching your friends slowly die”
In the cabin that nowadays housed the two Munson men, a walkie talkie sparked to life in the middle of the night.
Eddie blinked awake almost immediately, cause the sounds coming from it sounded horrifying.
It was short sequences of someone screaming in panic and agony, only for it to be cut off before it reappeared.
Eddie recognised the voice that shouted and whimpered without missing a beat, it was Steve, and something was up with him.
The old truck's engine kicked to life not even five minutes after Eddie had heard the first whimper.
He reached the Harrington house in minutes, finding the door unlocked.
He heard him even though he was on another floor.
“Steve!” He called out, trying to make his presence known.
When he entered the bedroom he saw the man who tossed and turned, his elbow pressing on the button of the walkie talkie.
“Steve, hey, wake up for me,” Eddie said, sitting down on the bed, shaking Steve slightly.
Steve’s eyes shot open and he was shaking like a leaf in between Eddies steady hands who held his upper arms.
He stared at Eddie for a split second as if he recognised him until he seemed to sink into some type of nightmare or flashback again and he ripped himself out of Eddie's grip and threw himself out of the bed grabbing the nailed bat.
Eddie recognised the weapon, he had heard the story about how it came to end up in Steve's possession.
“Steve” Eddie said and took a careful step towards him.
“Don’t” Steve said and tightened his grip on the bat.
”it’s just me, Kay?” Eddie tried to reason. It was like nothing was getting through, Steve was blank behind the eyes, his sole focus was on the monster that he was convinced would bounce on him any second.
“You’re safe Stevie.” The nickname slipped out before Eddie could stop himself. To Eddie it was clear that Steve was having some sort of flashback.
“It’s coming” Steve mumbled, flinching slightly as he heard a branch brushed against his roof. “Gotta keep em safe.”
Eddie realised immediately who he was referring to.
“They are safe, I promise, and you are too.” Eddie reassured. He tried to read Steve’s expression, it still didn’t seem like he truly heard what Eddie said.
Eddie was wrenching his own mind, trying to find a way to bring Steve out of the dreamhaze that he was currently in. The realisation hit him just seconds later, it was dark, the only reason that he saw Steve at all was the soft light from the moon outside.
Eddie moved quickly across the room towards the light switch. The sudden movement made Steve flinch and grip the bat impossibly tighter.
The metalhead sighed at the sight and wished with all his might that the switch of a light would bring him back.
Eddie flipped the switch and waited for the light to flood out of the ceiling lamp. Soon he saw that nothing happened, so he did the rational thing, the same thing Steve had done himself years before at scoops, flipping the switch an insane amount of times, hoping for it to magically turn on.
The noise of the light switch only seemed to make Steve more anxious so Eddie stopped. In the dim light he saw the outright fear in the younger man's eyes and he knew that he had to do something, and knowing it was dangerous he walked towards him.
“Steve, your power has gone out, okay?” He explained. “That’s why it's dark and feels cold.”
Steve blinked a little as to regain focus, but didn’t seem to be all that bothered about Eddie approaching him, so he continued.
“It’s nothing that you have to deal with now okay?” Eddie said. “Wanna go to my cabin?”
Steve wasn’t really all there yet and everything Eddie said wasn’t registering, but he catched that the figure in front of him was Eddie and that he wanted to leave.
Steve figured that it was probably safest for them to leave, so he nodded.
Eddie was thrilled to have Steve give him some sort of response, so he stepped even closer and took a steady grip around the bat in Steve’s hands.
“I can carry this to the car” he said, not bothering to ask, because then Steve could say no.
Steve looked up into the eyes of the slightly older man in front of him and when their eyes met Steve’s teared up. Eddie could tell that he was afraid to let go of the bat, clinging to it like it was his only lifeline.
“The kids” he said, barely audible.
“Hrrm?” Eddie shot back, having not heard exactly what he said.
“Gotta keep em safe” Steve said, moving the bat slightly closer to his body.
“I know, sweetheart” Eddie said, the petname rolling off his tongue in record speed. “I know, but right now we gotta get out of here alright?”
Eddie looked at the teary expression of the man infront of him and hoped that his latest effort would be enough to get Steve moving.
He felt the grip Steve had on the bat that was in both of their hands loosen and took the opportunity to grab it.
“C’mon Stevie” he said with a smile. “Let’s get moving.”
Steve felt like he was walking in a haze, nothing mattered and nothing felt real, but the warm hand on the small of his back felt oddly nice and he never wanted it to be removed from there.
Hence why a slight pout formed on his lips out of habit when he had to get into Eddie’s car.
The heat that flooded from the car, combined with the rocking of Eddie’s slightly wreckless driving and the metal music that streamed out of the speakers, (which Eddie quickly turned down to a low volume.) all woke Steve up a bit and suddenly it all hit him like a truck.
He had not only had another flashback but he had also, somehow, without even realizing it, brought Eddie into the circus, and now made himself into Eddie’s problem.
Now Steve's mind was clouding up with something completely different, his parents and the phrase they used constantly.
“Don’t be a bother Steven”
It was constant, when he had nightmares as a kid, when he needed help or just wanted to talk.
He was constantly made to feel like a burden and a bother.
Right at that moment Steve felt like a burden more than ever.
It was in the middle of the goddamn night and here Eddie was, up,out and driving for no other reason than him.
The sadness that hit him at this realisation was of another kind, it was unstoppable, the guilt he felt was enough to eat him alive.
A heart wrenching sob from the passenger seat almost made Eddie sverve off the road.
“Stevie, what’s the matter?” Eddie said when he regained his control behind the wheel, gently placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.
At first Steve didn’t reply, he simply just sobbed, because of the guilt he already felt and for the worry in Eddie's voice that only spewed on all of this even more.
“I’m sorry” he breathed out as Eddie parked the car outside the cabin he and Wayne lived in.
“For what?” Eddie asked with genuine confusion.
He looked at the younger man with such patience, tucking a loose piece of Steves hair behind his ear in an attempt to read the problem from his expression.
Steve lifted his head and looked at Eddie, as he decided to lay all of his insecurities in the arms of the metal head in front of him.
“I dunno what to do anymore” he mumbled.
Eddie held back a gasp when he saw just how distraught Steve looked. The never ending stream of tears combined with the red, sleepless eyes and the posture that made the man in front of him seem so goddamn small.
“Sweetheart, lets go inside and talk yeah?” Eddie said, and quickly got out the car, opening up Steve's door for him.
“Your uncle?” Steve asked, not wanting to bother another person.
“He’s at work.” Eddie reassured, “just you and me, big boy.”
Eddie could see the small smile that formed on Steve's lips at the nickname, despite the tears.
Inside Eddie led Steve to the couch and had him sit down whilst he got him a cup of water.
He felt Steve’s eyes on him at all times, he glanced at him, flashing a reassuring smile, the younger one on the sofa was softly sniffling, alternating between wiping tears away and fiddling with his own fingers.
Eddie handed Steve the glass of cold water and watched as it shook in his trembling hands.
“Carefully there honey” he said and rested his ring clad fingers on the bottom of the glass.
Steve gulped down the glass, hoping that the water would sooth his headache. He also found that his stomach fluttered and his cheek blushed with each passing nickname.
“Now Stevie, what do you need?” Eddie said after the glass was put on the coffee table to be forgotten about.
This set off another round of sobs within Steve, because the simple answer was, for someone to ask that exact question.
Steve didn’t know exactly how to reply, his already badly upheld facade crumbled completely at the question. Steve's body shook with sob, he wrapped his own trembling arms around himself, hiding his face in the front of his hoodie, trying to find a way to calm himself enough to answer the man who was watching all of this unfold before him.
“Baby,” Eddie said softly at the man in front of him. He couldn’t watch anymore, he could so desperately see what Steve so badly needed. “cmere, lean on me now”
Eddie shifted and rested his back against the armrest of the couch, his entire body facing Steve. He leaned forward and grabbed Steve’s arm, ever so gently tugging the man towards him.
Steve couldn’t help himself, he knew it wasn’t what he was supposed to do, but then again none of this was, so he made his way into the arms of Eddie Munson.
The metalhead wrapped his arms around him, and felt the hot tears drip down Steve’s cheeks, onto the old black sabbath shirt that he was wearing.
To Steve it felt unusual but strangely nice to just be held by someone.
Eddies deep breathing was rhythmic and calming, so to the extent that Steve found himself trying to match his own to it, and soon it seemed like the two were breathing in sync.
It was quiet in the soft lit room where the two sat, only the deep breaths and the quiet sob that didn’t seem to stop were heard.
Steve found himself pushing his face more and more against Eddie chest, as if to figure out if it all still was real.
“I’m here, “ Eddie reassured. “Do you want to talk? Or be distracted?”
He asked the questions whilst trying to catch enough of the younger mans face to be able to read his reaction.
“Uhm,” Steve said, before turning quiet, he carefully grabbed Eddies hand, twirling with the rings.
“What do you need?” Eddie asked softly, “I can tell it’s something.”
“I want to uhm, stay, like this… if that’s okay with you?” Steve asked, his eyes glossed over, almost expecting to get no for an answer.
“Of course” Eddie said. “As long as you need.”
Steve laid his head down on Eddie's chest again.
“Might want to stay here forever.”
Steve closed his eyes and soon fell asleep, this time without fear or worry.
Eddie figured that he could figure out what caused all of this later, right now he was content with the secure grip he had round Harrington and the calming effect it had on the man.
Anything else could wait.
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Speaking of the good comics, which ones are those or what ones do you recommend?
Okie! ✌️ I'll list my absolute favorite ones!
Batman Chronicles #3 (1995) / Riddle of the Jinxed Sphinx.
This one is actually a mini-story in a comic filled with three mini stories. (The other two being about Zsasz, and Croc) - but that doesn't matter. Despite it being a short story, you get a good look in Ed's head. This is actually a take on the "Eddie tries to give up leaving riddles behind". Which there's been at least three of those I can recall. Most people know of the one based on the Animated Series / New Adventures of Batman & Robin. And while that one's good. This one's the best because it focuses on Riddler more rather than Batman and Robin trying to figure out if Eddie's actually giving up riddles or not. It's also more realistic to OCD compared to the other one(s) which does it in a sillier manner. I'd go into depth as to why, but I don't wanna spoil anything.
That being said...
Batman Gotham Adventures #11 (1999) / The Oldest One in the Book!
Even though, imo, it's not as good as above, I still recommend reading it regardless! It has a very emotional ending, and it still has some characterization points I like. (Dealing with Ed's shame regarding his mental illnesses). Which is funny, given that I actually dislike most of the Gotham Adventure comics with Eddie because they also watered down his character to be a money grubby thief and nothing more. (When that goes against everything about Animated Series Eddie from the beginning - who didn't care about money / tried to kill a greedy CEO)
Batman #23.2 (2013) / Solitaire
May be my FAVORITE Eddie comic. Maybe. Also you'll notice it's one of the few recent / post New 52 comics I'll add to this list. It's such a satisfying read.
DC Strange Love Adventures (2022) / Dinner for Two
EDDIE IS CANONICALLY BISEXUAL HELL YEAH. A short story in a comic with many short comics (most of them are Movie Baits) but this one is so so so so fucking good. Probably the best Riddler comic in the last nine years or so (at its time). Which is sad. But it's a comic that truly understands what a lonely person Eddie is. Which I wish more comics would acknowledge that. Amazing read. It's the last one in the book, though.
BATMAN #608-619 (2002) / HUSH
If you read this one expecting Riddler - just know you won't see much of him. But by god, the moments you DO see him? Totally worth it. Jeph gave a new concept for Riddler, and how he could be a WONDERFUL villain. Unfortunately DC discarded all of this.
Batman Confidential #26, #27, #28 (2009)
A Batman and Riddler team up comic! Although there are parts I've felt were contrived, this is a VERY enjoyable one that's three parts. Eddie and Bruce's dynamic is just so fun and hilarious (in a good way!) And Eddie's characterization is also entertaining as hell. It helps show how Bruce and Eddie can help each other, too.
The Brave and the Bold #183 (1982) / The Death of Batman
ANOTHER Batman and Riddler team up comic, though older! This one's also a blast just because, again, Eddie and Bruce's dynamic is so entertaining. But Bruce's patience seems to be much thinner in this one, because he snaps at Riddler A LOT. They also share some pretty hilarious back and forths.
Detective Comics Annual #8 (1995) / Questions Multiple The Mystery
In this one, Eddie finally opens up to an Arkham psychiatrist, and tells his story. Whilst this one, unfortunately, goes with the "Eddie is a cheat and cheated in school" concept - the rest of it makes up for that. I also feel it has some good depictions of his psychosis. May even been the first comic to show him struggling with psychosis? But I can't quite remember that.
Gotham City Sirens #3 (2010)
About a reformed Eddie. And man, he just has some good development in this is all.
Gotham City Sirens #9 and #10 (2010)
This one has many reasons why I love it - like how I love most of these, it's another comic that gets deep into his psychology. And for once, depicts Eddie as beating himself up / talking down on himself rather than the generic "I'm THE GREATEST PERSON ALIVE-" I guess what I'm saying it also feels like a more realistic depiction of NPD.
HONORARY MENTIONS
BATMAN ZERO YEAR (2013) ... YEAH THIS ALSO WENT ON FOR LIKE 12 FUCKING ISSUES
I didn't love this comic. And frankly, it was definitely dragged out waaaay longer than it needed to be. That's because they literally wanted this to go on for a year (as comics release monthly) But imo, it took way too long to start and takes many issues in before it gets actually interesting. But I bother to mention it here just because it's one of the very, very, very few events where Eddie's the main antagonist. (Other than the War of Jokes and Riddles - but you'll never see me recommending a Tom King book) So props to him. And it still has some fine moments.
Batman Legends of the Dark Knight #185-189 (2005) / Riddle Me That
EMO PLASTIC SURGERY RIDDLER. MY BELOATHED. I literally have a love/hate relationship with this one. Riddler's design, and his characterization was just... okay???? And it's way longer than it should be. This was an attempt to rebrand the character to Appeal to the Modern Kids - and kinda spat on Eddie's old design, plus everything Jeph Loeb did with Hush. Which all failed. However, there are still some things I really enjoy in this comic. For one, it MIGHT be the first to retcon the "Eddie's a cheat / Eddie cheated in school" and instead changed it to that he was a victim of gaslighting by jealous parents. I would say it may be the first time Eddie was depicted as an abuse victim - but I don't know if it's credited to this comic, as it seems like that's just an idea DC must've had in general. As Alex Ross' Justice also mentioned him being beaten by his father for "cheating/lying," and Batman 2004 cartoon also depicted Eddie with a bad father (though the abuse was watered down due to being a kid's show) so it seems like that's just something DC told everyone they were doing with Ed's character or something. Anyway, despite having several glaring issues - there are still moments I love in this comic, regardless. Read it with caution, I guess.
JUSTICE #2 (2005)
While part of a short series, I've only ever read this one. It's an enjoyable one! Ed's intelligence is also credited in this one. However, I like it for it also mentions the abuse Eddie went through. It's also where I got my URL from.
Catwoman: Lonely City (2022)
A Catwoman comic? Why? Because Eddie's drug abuse is mentioned (also since it's a future, it's revealed he got clean <3) and he also fucks Catwoman. What more could you want?
There are more I could recommend. But these are, imo, the very best ones. Of course, I will also recommend watching the Animated Series (he was only in three eps </3) as well as checking him out in Arkham City and Arkham Origins - as those are my fav Eddies in those games.
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ASK EDDIE - August 24 2023
FNF prez Eddie Muller responds to film noir fan questions fielded by the Foundation's Director of Communications Anne Hockens. In this episode, we discuss the recent changes at TCM, Eddie’s memories of Robert Osborne, the new Philip Marlowe book, The Second Murder, Poker Face and its inspiration Columbo, female investigators in film noir, and more. We wind up the show with a new game, “Femme Fatale or Not?”. On the cat front, Charlotte is a diva and Emily won’t come out of her trailer.
Want your question answered in a future episode? We solicit questions from our email subscribers in our monthly newsletters. Sign up for free at https://www.filmnoirfoundation.org/signup.html
Everyone who signs up on our email list and contributes $20 or more to the Film Noir Foundation receives the digital version of NOIR CITY Magazine for a year. Donate here: https://www.filmnoirfoundation.org/contribute.html
This weekend’s questions:
1. I am wondering if there's a way to find out which movies screened at the first NOIR CITY. I'm also wondering when you first started distributing those spectacular programs.
Jeannin
2. Would you address the recent cutbacks and layoffs at TCM that are affecting NOIR ALLEY.
Andrew
3. I would love to know about your relationship with Robert Osborne.
Stacy
4. The estate of Raymond Chandler hired Scottish crime fiction writer Denise Mina to pen a new Philip Phillip Philip Marlowe novel, THE SECOND MURDERER was released in August. Have you read it and if so, what did you think? What do you think in general of the practice of having contemporary authors pen reboots based on other writers' classic detective characters? Are there any examples of this that you think are particularly well-done--OR that you think egregiously miss the mark?
Kathleen
5. Have either of you seen the new TV series POKER FACE? It’s not a whodunit. It’s a howcatchem. It’s been said it’s a homage to the old COLUMBO series. Were you two fans of COLUMBO. Was Peter Falk ever in a noir movie?
Alan, San Anselmo, CA
6. Would love to see THE ENFORCER, 1952, starring Bogart presented on NOIR ALLEY sometime soon. I wonder about the film’s backstory. What parts of the film really portrayed the "Murder Inc.", if any?
Victor
7. Since becoming interested in film noir, I have seen several films with Richard Basehart. Did he ever talk about his career in noir films? I saw Basehart live on stage in the late 1970’s playing Macbeth at a theatre near Philadelphia. Did any other “noir” actors perform Shakespeare on stage?
Ed, Washington, D.C.
8. What do you think of Roger Corman's 1962 film THE INTRUDER? And do you consider it to be noir?
Doug, Silver Spring, MD
9. I was curious to hear Eddie's opinion on directors William Dieterle, Delmer Daves, Anthony Mann, Robert Wise, Jean Negulesco and which of their film noirs are worth watching.
Jeff from Montreal
10. I was intrigued by the plot of Joseph Pevney’s UNDERCOVER GIRL (1950) because it centers on a policewoman working. I couldn’t find UNDERCOVER GIRL anywhere- to stream or buy.
My question is two-fold. How rare is this type of character in film noir? And why can I not find this film (and other films like this)?
Kellee, Kansas
11. Was The movie PUBLIC ENEMY recut? I ask because Jean Harlow's role is so short and feels like it was recut. I know that the Hayes code had just come into effect so that adds to my suspicion.
David
12. Anne and Eddie: How many emails do you each get each day connected with movies? Is it overwhelming?
Alan
13. Does Eddie or Anne have a favorite or memorable tagline associated with a noir film? Also, is it Tizzie with an "ie" or Tizzy with a "y"? Inquiring minds need to know.
Timothy, Schenectady NY
14. I’d like to propose a new game: ‘Femme Fatale or Not?’ And start off with one tough (or maybe off the wall) example:
PITFALL (1948) (dir. André De Toth) - Mona Stevens (Lizabeth Scott) is not a femme fatale in this film but Sue Forbes (Jane Wyatt) is. I’ll stop here and see what you and Anne think (about the concept and my interpretation of Wyatt’s character.
Dave in Pie Creek, Queensland
#youtube#film noir#film noir foundation#noir city#eddie muller#anne hockens#tcm#robert osborne#philip marlowe#the second murder#poker face#columbo#peter falk#the enforcer#richard basehart#the itnruder#undercover girl#jean negulesco#public enemy#pitfall#lizabeth scott#jane wyatt
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It's the end of summer 1984 and you wake up in the middle of the night and can't fall back to sleep. You're still anxious about the move from the big city to the smallest city your parents could find on the map, Hawkins, Indiana.
Sitting against your pillows you wonder how they could do this to you just before starting your senior year of high school. You had to leave all your friends behind and hope you meet the criteria to graduate from Hawkins High.
The only upside is all the rumors that Hawkins is Hell on Earth and that makes it somewhat interesting.
Looking at the clock you realize its after midnight and you need some sleep for the first day of school. Closing your eyes you allow yourself to drift into a sleepless state.
Day 1: start of Term
Pulling into a empty parking space near the front of the school you put the car into park and just sit. Breathing in and out slowly you keep telling yourself it's going to be alright and there's nothing to worry about.
You are smart, funny and have always made friends easily so what could be any different about Hawkins High?
While giving yourself the pep talk of the century you didn't notice the blue Chevrolet Camaro pull in next to you.
You open your door to get out and hear a young voice say “ouch”. You look over and see a redheaded girl with a skateboard rubbing her ankle.
“Damn, I must have hit her with my door,” you think to yourself but before you have the chance to say anything a guy with eyes that radiated blue fire and perfect brown hair grabbed you by the collar and dragged you out of your car.
“Hey shit head, you hit my sister with your ugly ass car door, what are you going to do about it?” the guy said, causing the fire dancing in his eyes to flare brighter. Not being one for confrontation you just say “I'm sorry”. The guy just glared at you.
”Billy please it was an accident” the young girl said softly as she slid behind her brother. Billy looked back at the girl who nodded like they had a silent conversation and Billy put you down.
“I'm really am sorry. I wasn't looking, is she ok?” you ask worried due to the girl's reaction.
“Our dad was an abusive asshole so she gets nervous easily, especially at raised voices. My name is Billy and this is Max, what's yours?” Billy asked, wrapping his arm around Max protectively.
Amazed at his gentleness you almost miss the question. “Oh huh sorry my name is Y/N and I'm new here” you reply blushing slightly.
Billy smiles and your heart skips two beats.
“Hey sorry I went off but I am Max’s guardian and I worry a lot about her. Also we are new as well. We can help each other” Billy said, placing a free hand on yours.
Billy removed his hand and said “I will see you later Y/N I have to get Max to the middle school before my class starts” Billy says and the two of them head off.
As soon as they were out of sight, you looked down at the hand he was touching and told yourself that nothing will ever happen because he was pretty much the epitome of Male straightness plus no one could know you liked other men or things will go south, they always did.
The week goes by better than expected. You make a bunch of new friends including the King of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, and his girlfriend Nancy Wheeler. Also, Jonathan Byers, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley, and Barbra or Barb Holland round out your small and comfortable friend list.
You barely saw him again though as you only had one class with him and he was always surrounded by the popular girls.
By the time Friday rolled around you had concluded that he was definitely the straight jock that didn't have any interest in you whatsoever which made seeing him every day seem like a jail sentence.
“Hey, Y/N how would you like to be my wingman to the Halloween party this weekend? I was going to go with Tommy but he got sick. I am going to take down Beer keg king Harrington” Billy said interrupting your train of thought and flashing that smile of his.
I could almost feel the jealousy manifesting from the popular girls. Worried it might make some people question your relationship with Billy you became reluctant to answer.
But when he placed his hand over yours purposefully, you relax and reply “Yeah, I will come”.
“Great, I will swing by and get you at 7pm,” Billy said just as the teacher came in and that was the end of that conversation.
As the teacher discussed the importance of math in the real world your mind went over the million different scenarios that this weekend could lead to, mostly horrible but some really nice.
You dare to look over at Billy and he flashes you that smile that makes you melt and all that worry fades away, well until after class at least.
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6 and 7 for writer asks please!
Yaaay thank you, I am loving these questions!
6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?
I'm not a big fic re-reader, outside of a few staples that I've returned to approximately one billion times. I tend to read once, preserve the moment in crystal in my mind, and then try to find something else that gives me that same exact feeling, only to end up realizing that no, that fic was its own brand of special uniqueness.
Since I'm currently balls deep in writing Hellcheer, I haven't been reading a lot of it, but there are a lot of fics on my TBR list for once I wrap Soul.
(I am also, truly, the worst at bookmarking, so I find myself semi-regularly asking, "oh, God, what WAS that fic?!")
That said, there are a few fics from back in the day that I have saved on my Dropbox because they don't even exist online anymore. A lot of Destiel (I know, I know), some Mulder/Scully stuff, some LOTR stuff, and some early Marvel stuff.
7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?
Outside of the WIPs I've already posted about, I have a vague idea for a Hellcheer fix-it fic, but I also feel like there are so many good fix-its, I wouldn't be adding anything new to the conversation. I've thought about a role reversal as well, but not sure exactly how I'd want to approach it.
I have like ~10 ideas for adult reunion fics, mostly expanding on some of the holiday/Valentine's Day one-shots I wrote.
Oh, and there's still a Robin fic in me somewhere, but I know canon will fuck with whatever I do so I look forward to finding out how the Duffers will kill off whatever girlfriend she gets so I can write a world in which that girl doesn't die.
I have also had a Jopper-era high school fic rattling around my brain for years, but I don't know how to do it without altering canon so Jonathan and Will don't exist, which I cannot do.
AND I have a Chrissy/Eddie/Steve fic percolating, which will probably get as far as the Steve/Jonathan/Nancy fic I tried writing a few years back. I just love a solid OT3, dammit.
(Maybe if I could do some of them as one-shots instead of wanting to write 80k about them, life would be easier. Couldn't be me, tho.)
Fic Asks, Baybee
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Continued from (x) with @tarnishedhalo
The prompt and question earned Ron one of those exceedingly rare full and unguarded smiles that both emphasized that Beth wasn't the only one of the Rileys who was fangy, and that brought to life his own deep dimples. The way he turns his head causes the bar lamps to cast him in golden light, tarnishing his dark hair with its natural blonde highlights. The tip of his tongue rolls against the back of his teeth.
"Yeah, okay, Rawnie," the New York Irish drawl of his friend's name is nothing he can help, but it's still a intimate step-up from the the whole 'Kray' part. As if he's never known anyone to have a given name. Of course Riley keeps a list in his head of qualities both good and bad. Each of them slivers beneath the usually pristine veneer he wears though his hair's getting a touch long, and he's not been too careful with the razor.
"The pro is...I know like hundreds of different love songs, any genre or era you like, an' not just American ones." He spreads his hands on the table-top, gives them a flex. "Acoustic, electric...can play any guitar. Can play the piano, drums ~including the bodhran. Violin. Harmonica. And everyone loves a music man, right? Plus I'm hell in the kitchen, and I'm house-broken." He doesn't elaborate on what that last means but delivers it with a chuckle.
"The Con? I'm old-fashioned. I don't really do one night stands, and I'm very careful who I let in my inner circle. Introducing someone into the family can be hard, what with my sister, and because it takes me a while to get used to someone new. Especially after havin' danced with the Devil and the mess she made when we divorced. Also...I'm told I'm bossy as fuck, take with a grain of salt or three." There's a split second where he's unguarded and there's something fairly young and vulnerable resting against the back of his eyes that shades the rest of his mien. It gets shrugged off with a lift of his whiskey, and a snake-like strike at the next card in the pile. "Hypothetically speaking, if you could ask your future self one question, what would it be, and why?"
Ever the attentive listener, Ron followed the eddies and swells of his pal’s answer with obvious interest - flicker-smiles and little half nods in all the right spots through the narrative. He’d heard enough about the man’s dance with what he called the Devil not to need to ask and ruin the mood. Note of her earned a scowl’s implication, but it died away before it or she could sour the mood. The rest - the pros and the con - were all sunshine and even numbers and known of by the publican too. He and Riley went back a little ways now. He’d met the music man and the master chef, and the bossy fucker too, by ‘n by. And for all there were times they’d butt heads, he did like him.
Ron watched Riley’s hands as he reached for the next card; sipped his drink - G&T with ice and cucumber - as the question on it was put to him. A grinning response came instantly-
“This week’s lot’ry numbahs, aye?”
-and was spoke through as snigger as Ron leaned in a companionable couple of inches, as if he was sharing a sneaky little secret between just them two. That snigger kicked up for a couple’a beats, then eased away as Ron waved the comment off with his free hand. He had no real use for those numbers now, much as the penniless lad he still was at his core would’ve done things unspeakable once upon a time for a sudden lift out of poverty for himself and his family. Now-Ron though, present day Ron-- His wants and needs meandered down different paths and so, because of this, did his curiosities.
“--I fink” he said, the relative slowness of how he shared what he went on to indicative of the depth at which he felt it within himself. “Onest ‘n true ‘n not jokin’ no more...I’d ask if I was ‘appy...Money, yeah?...It don’t bring yah ‘appiness. It...smooves th’way t’makin’ a life tha’ll make yah ‘appy, bu’ it don’t bring it in i’self.” A slight, consideratory pause came on. It bought on a moment’s silence that ended with a fractional nod, Ron’s commentary picking up from where it’d broken off more seamlessly than it often did. “I know tha’ now, where I didn’t b’fore...So I’d wanna know if I made it in a way tha’ mattahs, as well as in a way tha’ don’t mattah so much, grand scheme.”
A sip from his G&T was the period on that thought, Mr Flippant Sniggers coming right on back to the fore as glass met table and Ron went for the next card on the pile between ‘em.
“Right-” A glance at the card over his glasses so he could dictate its query. “-Name one’a your ‘eroes ‘n tell us why they’re one.”
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Rec list for Eddie and Symby being vaguely to very gay?
I'm sorry for coming to you with my monsterfucker agenda 😔👊 (no I'm not)
i mean, i probably could’ve seen this coming.
venom is dominated by two opposing narratives. let’s call this the “relationship narrative” and the “control narrative”. they’re not perfectly separated, like, you’ll definitely get elements of one in the other, but generally one of them describes what the story, at its core, is using the symbiote for.
now comics are an endless tug-of-war at the best of times, much less the gayest and slimiest of times. there’s a neverending backlash and backbacklash going on between these two takes. what you want is the relationship narrative.
everything very much started out with that take. eddie and the symbiote are two characters who forge an evil alliance because it lets them do what they wanna do (kill spider-man, more or less) and they have the same kinds of neuroses and complexes and syndromes. lots of early comics are also very fun about the merged consciousness, merged identity deal. that’s kind of the textbook relationship stuff.
personally i absolutely think the original stories (venom was created by david michelinie) have romantic undertones, even starting in the villainy days. eddie describes their first meeting as “a shadow moved, caressed me.” he takes the rejection of the symbiote still being “in love with” spider-man really hard. he sobs his eyes out when he thinks it’s dead and promises to avenge it bare-handed. they totally expect to live happily ever after on a deserted island together.
then there’s venom: lethal protector, which is cute on its own, but if you’re reading for slime romance, i very specifically recommend the novelisation. i won’t even spoil it. and then, planet of the symbiotes is the first comic that i would say has outright queer themes, intentional or not.
so all those recs until now are collected in this post.
we're trucking along through the 90s, we explore elements of one take and then the other and sometimes we ignore the symbiote completely, but not too much changes, overall. the next BIG stop in Gay Venom is, of course, the hunger.
miniseries by len kaminski, just venom: the hunger. plenty of people have written their essays on it, but what’s always important to me is that it DID NOT come out of nowhere. as said above, it expanded on themes that were there, it references michelinie venom very explicitly, like you get your SECOND “tenderly touching the green glass tube” scene.
but yes this one is specifically about, like, stigmatisation, otherness, mental illness, meeting all those things with care and empathy and optimism, tentacle sex. again, many essays. a venom comic that can go “look at the twisted deviance of this relationship” and then turn it around into “but how are you looking at it” is good. god how good would it be if they also did that to eddie more. anyway.
a few years later you get the first MAJOR fucking backlash, culminating in the SECOND story titled the hunger. spectacular spider-man: the hunger, from 2003. completely reboots venom and retcons their motivations and backstories, makes very spiteful references to planet of the symbiotes and the hunger, like it is not also called that by sheer coincidence. literally starts out, in a comic that wants to tackle and redefine venom, with the line “the PROBLEM is that you guys are like an old married couple”. so the new status quo is that the symbiote only ever used eddie to be with spider-man, and eddie only ever used the symbiote to not die of cancer.
the “control narrative” that really kicks in here uses the symbiote as, you know, a thing to control, eddie’s demons personified or even a completely foreign force to torment him. if eddie is evil, it’s not because of what he thinks and believes and wants, it’s because he couldn’t control the symbiote and gave in to its inexplicable bloodlust.
this is an unambiguous downgrade in terms of complexity, in my humble opinion, completely fucks up eddie’s responsibility themes, and is also a pretty clearly petty reaction to venom’s absolute oversaturation in the nineties. the bitch was everywhere and most of it wasn’t good. so there was LOTS of “look at this creepy loser” content by writers cringing themselves into self-awareness at the time. the 00s were going to be GRITTY and MATURE.
this of course means that we get to see eddie slit his wrists and bleed to death on panel after selling the symbiote to supervillains as an attempted act of redemption???
wild fucking times! it’s not exactly worth recommending as ~shippy~, but the first real backbacklash to this first round of retcons comes from dan slott, who just kind of ignores it all in new ways to die. drags eddie back to the land of the living and relevant, makes the symbiote refuse to let its new host kill him, telling that host, and reestablishing, that it loves eddie. and then, to keep him living and relevant, slott makes eddie anti-venom.
don’t even worry about it. anti-venom is essentially eddie seeking redemption with symbiote powers, but without the symbiote, except he pretty much acts no fucking different at all, just keeps on being a murderous vigilante with cracked ideas about innocence and guilt. people still act like he’s better now because, in its metatextual ways, the hunger was right.
then fucking uuuuuuhhhhhhh. agent venom. symbiote goes to flash thompson and the us military, and the writer, rick remender, goes really, really, really hard on the control narrative. the symbiote becomes a substance flash is addicted to, gives a voice to his past abuse, it’s dark times all the times.
people very much do like that narrative for flash, like at least from that perspective it was worth it. i don’t like it much for the symbiote. for the symbiote, representing everything fucked up with flash and forcing him to murder kill bite all the time is resolved via the good guy avengers literally lobotomising it so flash can wear it without further resistance or input. imagine doing that to a human person. you’re uncooperative so we’re gonna turn off your higher cognitive functions and wear you like a meat suit. happy ending for everybody! truly we’ve conquered our demons this day.
then! at the same time, there’s a cartoon coming out, it’s called ultimate spider-man. THAT one does the control narrative take with harry osborn, but then does the relationship take with flash, making it the only cartoon to outright redeem the symbiote and let it find friendship and be valued as a person.
and people loved it! so brian michael bendis gets it in his head that he’s going to redeem the symbiote and make it partner up with flash. and he does redeem it by the highly fucking questionable means of having it be “cleansed”, aka brainwashed and relieved of its memories and personality. not that it matters for long. nothing fucking matters in comics. take this with you if it’s the only thing.
so then for fun friendship times you get venom: space knight, flash and the symbiote’s adventures in space! and then that gets cancelled. eddie is off somewhere being toxin and hunting carnage (2016). many good comics but you did not ask for them.
and THEN.
it is time for the next MOTHER of backlashes.
flash gets literally discarded at fucking roadside to put the symbiote back on eddie and turn back time on their relationship to RIGHT before the FIRST backlash happened. you know, all those 2003 retcons. gone. ignored. no more. venom’s themes are now those circa 1996 again. full fucking on relationship narrative. ROMANTIC relationship narrative, and that after the symbiote was turned into eddie’s evil shadow, after he hated it and spent a LONG time seeking to eradicate all symbiotes (and not even for the first time).
the COSTA run. venom (2016). reviled and beloved.
like this comic is fucking ANGRY about symbiote treatment. i HAD to tell you all of that so you’d understand ANYTHING it’s doing. the first thing it does is flip it completely around, puts the symbiote on a military guy who’s making IT do bad things, makes his ability to control it horrifying and abusive instead of heroic and admirable. one of the later things it does (in the follow-up venom: first host) is outright feature a villain who lobotomises symbiotes, ending on a symbiote serving him swift and sweet payback by doing the same thing TO HIM. it’s exactly as unsubtle as the hunger (2003) was about its hang-ups.
comics... are a conversation.
flash remains a symbiote friend but still got fucked over big time by it all, symbiote-focused writers slott and costa also kind of use him to literally, in case anybody hadn’t caught on, literally spell out the REAL story that’s been going on in the writer's room for the past THIRTY YEARS:
you’ll notice i didn’t actually list any of the Gay Shit for you, you’ve probably already seen it or you’ll get to see it for yourself. yes, they are deeply in love, yes, it’s fucked up and flawed, yes, it is real and taken seriously and has ultimately redeeming potential. yes the concept of that nearly knocked me off my feet and in front of the subway at one point. yes there’s mpreg
it’s also fucking riddled with events, which spin off into other comics, so either ignore those and rely on the recaps OR click yourself forward through the “next issue (story)” button on marvel wikia to know what to read.
and after that must of course come the backbackbacklash, as certain as death or taxes. in the next run, we retcon everything once more, eddie just needs to control his darkness, the symbiote was an evil abuser all along, nothing on earth is ever new.
i’m not gonna go through it, i’m just gonna point you to the backbackbackbacklash issue that came out during this time: venom annual volume 2 number 1 - it’s confusingly named, it’s the one that has a blue-skinned space lady on it. this one ignores the backbackbacklash going on very pointedly and goes “it’s not ABOUT control” again, it’s pretty explicitly romantic.
and then there’s also marvel comics presents (2019) #5, which, oddly enough, does not particularly feature the characterisation you’d typically see in the relationship narrative? but it does feature eddie and the symbiote literally fucking, so you’d want to know about it.
that’s the overall, like, frame of eddie and the symbiote being in a relationship (nuh uh) (yeah they are) (NUH UH) (YEAH THEY ARE)
some stuff that’s smaller but still notable, uh.
nova (1999) 6 - 7, that’s the “we’re space married”
venom: dark origin, that’s an ALTERNATE (!!!) take on the character, don’t expect a likeable eddie but it’s very darkly funny and gay so what can i say.
venom: the end, which i would absolutely fucking hate to be canon, i think its characterisation is quite regressive, but the symbiote sure is in love, i guess.
venom: separation anxiety, the dawn of the control narrative but eddie’s characterisation did not have to go so wrong from here, like if they’d just figured out AT THIS STAGE that he's STILL acting like venom without it... i digress. it has the symbiote going eddie eddie eddieee
venom: sinner takes all, this is the first she-venom comic so that’s. hm. interesting. healing symbiote blanket
don’t read venom: license to kill just look at this panel with me
if i think of more comics worth adding i’ll add them.
the subtext slash text is heavy enough to be present to some degree in literally every cartoon adaptation of eddie brock. spider-man: the animated series goes FULL control narrative, in fact it started the “the symbiote corrupted peter” take that we to this day cannot escape, but the first few venom episodes are VERY playful about their relationship.
in spectacular spider-man it’s canon, but horrible. eddie’s in love with it, but eddie's a good boy and the symbiote is played very, very, very abusively. i think this is an evil symbiote adaptation that works well enough, at least it’s an actual meaningful character instead of just a malevolent force to resist.
in marvel’s spider-man, the only venom episode worth watching is venom returns.
i’ve actually got every symbiote-relevant episode listed right here from when we did our communal watch-through.
also watch truth in journalism. idk if it’s exactly shippy just do it
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“Small thing” - Alfie Solomons x reader
A/n: So, I failed to post this on saturday but here it is! Thanks again for requesting @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby! I changed a few things however I hope you’ll like this!
Summary: Alfie can’t help but step in when he sees that the man you were talking to was about to hit you. Then, one thing leads to another and eventually it’s your shared love for animals that’s what brings you together.
Word count: 2.2K (roughly)
TW: violence on animal, abusive behavior but fluff overall
Tag list: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @ashesbelle (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)
(this beautiful piece of art was made by @fortunetellingnonesense. she has other amazing art so go check her out!)
“Hey, stop! What the hell are you doing?!" Your voice resounded in the streets, its echo jumping through the buildings amplified. You weren't one to shout, nor did you get into fights easily. But if there was one thing you hated, it was bullying. Especially when those pieces of shit always picked on people half their size or age. It wasn't fair and showed how insignificant they were. However true that might be, the cuts and bruises that their kicks and fists would leave on them weren't insignificant. Especially compared to a smaller body such as the one of this little kitty that piece of shit on the other side of the road had decided to kick.
Unfortunately, it had taken the small kitten cries for you to notice what was happening. But now that you had, you couldn't turn a blind eye to it. Not even if you weren't a strong muscular person and there was no one in the streets could give you a hand. Given the hour, the street was deserted.
"This little shit has decided to pee all over my doorstep. That’ll show him." Not happy with the kick that had probably broken the kitten's ribs, the bloke spat on its trembling body and was about to keep going.
"Don't you see that it's a little kitten? They don't even know what a doorstep is." You pointed out incredulously but wasn't it obvious?
"You almost killed him", you added to show that it was totally unnecessary and simply a dick move.
"I don't fucking care. He peed on my doorstep and I taught him a lesson." His voice became even harsher as he bragged what he thought was a grand gesture. But really, he only proved your point further.
"You're a piece of shit." Simply put.
"Oi, lady, I don't know who the hell you think you are but ain't no one gonna talk to me like that." You could see that he trying to make himself look bigger and threatening but you didn’t expect anything less from him and were set on not let him win.
"If only you cared about yourself just half as much as you cared for others than I wouldn't have to point out the obvious." Dismissing him, you turned towards the poor kitten that was pathetically laying on the floor. Their breath was uneven and you could tell they were having trouble doing so.
Your words must have confused the man, who apparently wasn't accustomed to a more complex way of speaking. You hadn't apologized but he wasn't sure that you had offended him either. By your tone though, he figured out that it must have been the second. And of course, his ego was bruised.
"Right, you sl*t, it seems that you need to be taught a lesson too." Too busy cooing over the small thing, his words didn't even register. It was probably going to be too late once they did but luckily for you, a guardian angel interceded for you.
"It ain't very manly to hit a woman, mate, right." A loud husky voice spoke behind you and you looked up, cradling the kitten to your chest, ready to make a run for it if it came to it. A tall figure of a man leaning on his cane with a big hat that cast a shadow over his face was the newcomer. You had never seen this man before but one look at him was all it took to understand that you did not mess with him. If you didn't want to end up bloodied and broken, that is.
The bully was about to shoot a retort but the burly man spoke again before he could, "Just like hitting small animals. What fucking beast would do that, hm." And then he spoke no more, only stared at the guy. You found amusing how big and mighty the guy was trying to be just a moment early when it had been only you, and how scared and spineless he was being now, under the stranger's unwavering stare.
It only took a minute, maybe even less, for him to lower his head and retreat.
"That's right, no more lesson teaching for you, bastard." You snickered, mocking him. When the man in question turned to send a death stare your way, you shivered and moved behind the stranger's back, just to be sure.
"Keep on going, mate." The stranger said fully ridding you of that menace finally.
"Asshole", you muttered under your breath as the man disappeared into his house. You must have been louder than you thought because that prompted the stranger to look at you.
"What are you doing, lass, getting head to head with a guy bigger than you, eh. Got a death wish?" As you were standing close to him now, you were able to see his face clearly since he was looking down at you for the height difference. What a lovely face. A guardian angel had sent him for sure because there was no way that such a handsome and kind man would stumble into your life by coincidence.
"Look, he almost killed this kitten and was definitely going to if I hadn't stopped him." You didn’t move to put some space between you. His eyes were too mesmerizing to look anywhere but at them and the way his lips trembled before forming a small smirk, was too endearing to miss.
The stranger’s name turned out to be Alfie, but that wasn't the only thing you ended up knowing about him. He was a fellow animal lover and the human of a sweet bullmastiff. He had a trusted vet and offered to take you to him. On the way, you got to know each other. Albeit, he did all the talking, only stopping to let you answer the many questions he asked you, it wasn't annoying as it may sound. His rumbling was… comforting, in a way. It gave your mind no room to think back about what happened or worry about what could have happened if Alfie hadn't shown up. It only allowed you to lightly caress the kitten's fur and hum now and then to what he was saying.
———————————————————————————
And after months of knowing him, you could vouch that it was.
He was an interesting fellow, this Alfie. Such a scaring looking guy, all burly and dishevelled. His cane angrily stomped the ground, his boisterous voice and confident stride successful kept away any wandering eye and unwanted attention despite how difficult it was to not notice them walking down the street. Of course, since you had just met him, you couldn't know that this happened mainly because of his reputation. And you would have never guessed either because despite his rough exterior, there was an underlying tenderness in the way Alfie looked at the small thing in your arms and how quickly and unprompted he had offered to help. It was the recipe for a sweetheart, wasn't it?
"Right, I reckon we should get him some help, don't we?" Alfie couldn’t help but find you amusing and was more than willing to spend a little more of his time with you. His day had been uneventful up until now. Besides, the small thing in your arms did need help.
After the kitten was entrusted to the vet's care and eventually saved, Alfie, moved by your love for animals, had asked you to take care of his boy, Cyril. Of course, you happily took the job. Yes, the money was good and certainly helped but you mainly agreed because of him. As naive as it sounds, Alfie had made a really good impression on you that day and always had been the portrait of the perfect gentleman around you.
He would welcome you in and offer a cup of tea when you’d get to his home in the morning and another one when he'd come home in the afternoon before you'd leave. And whenever he needed to stay at the bakery until late at night, he'd phone and tell you either offering to have someone walk you home or when you'd refused to leave Cyril alone - that was your job after all- he had given you one of the spare rooms for you to crash in and get some sleep, always with the promise of a raise for the inconvenience.
You were titubant at first, yes Alfie had always been nice to you but was it enough to trust him? Eventually, you caved and stayed the night. The door of your room locked and a route for a quick escape already in mind. You'd soon find out that you wouldn't need it though. Alfie had come home a little past midnight and despite the late hour, he didn't go to bed straight away. Instead, you heard some noises coming from the living room.
Curiosity got the best of you and you ventured downstairs. You had cooked a small dinner and left some for him in the oven. Alfie however, hadn't even noticed. The concept of a cooked meal was new and far away from him, his nightly routine mainly consisted of whiskey and the papers he'd brought from the office.
Coming home to someone was also something out of the ordinary for Alfie, so when your silhouette appeared in the doorway he thought he was hallucinating. The whiskey made him a little slow but his mind still worked quickly enough that you didn't notice his moment of disorientation.
That night turned out to be an interesting one for both of you. Looking back to it, it was also a kind of turning point in your relationship. Whiskey proved to be something that made Alfie even more prone to speaking and since the night is young, you two talked a lot, and you inevitably ended up feeling closer to him.
After that night, Alfie made sure to come home a bit earlier so that you could talk a bit before you had to head home. And you ended up spending more nights at Alfie's too.
Today was one of those days when Alfie said he would come home in time for tea. So, as usual, you had got everything ready, the cookies you had just taken out of the oven were nicely arranged on a plate beside the two steaming cups of tea.
———————————————————————————
"We are restless today, aren't we? But we just came back from our afternoon walk, so what can I do for you, eh?" You were sure you sounded utterly ridiculous, using a baby voice with him but you loved doing so whenever you talked to him. And you’d swear that he could understand you.
"A-ha, these are not for you sweet boy," you tutted at Cyril when he tried to help himself to the food.
It felt like a crescendo, your relationship getting out of the acquaintances’ stage and entering something blurry that you still couldn't figure out. All you knew was that it was warm and it felt a lot like home.
"Alright, alright, I'll give you some cuddles." Yeah, maybe you were a little soft on him but how could anyone be anything but when he looked so cute laying on his back with his little paws in the air?
Exactly.
The sound of the door closing caught your attention and you got up from the ground and walked in the hallway to meet Alfie who was taking his hat off.
"Welcome back, Alfie. How was your day?" Walking to him, you helped him take his coat off. After hanging it on the coat rack, you turn back around to listen to his answer. You expected him to have moved away instead you found your faces extremely close after you had turned around.
A gasp left your lips when your noses brushed whereas Alfie appeared unaffected. His eyes flickered between yours, his moustache tickled your upper lip as he spoke, "it's about to get a lot better, it seems pet. What do ya think?" He whispered on your mouth, referring to your previous question.
The kiss was slow at first, your lips were cautious of each other, tentative and shy. Then Alfie’s hand reached the back of your head and it was like a flip had been switched. Only a brief pause to get some air, your forehead touching, before your lips reconnected. This time with far more hunger, like you had been waiting for this moment. And in fact, you had been.
"Look who's decided to join, cheeky bastard", Alfie commented, amused at his dog who was now panting on his leg. Cyril barked as if he had understood his human and you couldn't help but laugh. This dog was something else.
Your hands trailed on his shoulders up to his neck while the kiss grew more desperate and Alfie pushed you to the wall behind the coat hanger. His hands began wandering trailing down on your body and his mouth was about to follow when something humid and wet interrupted them.
Your eyes bore into his then flickered to his mouth, so close to yours, before you answered him. "I wholeheartedly agree." And that was all he needed to hear before his mouth was on yours. A shot of electricity ran through you when he did.
"I'm sorry mate, but this is a dance for two," Alfie gave him a loving pat on his head, "now where were we?" he turned back to you before connecting your mouths again.
#alfie solomons#tom hardy#tom hardy imagines#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy imagine#alfie solomons fic#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons imagines#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons one shot#alfie x reader#alfie solomons fluff#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder imagine
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I think this post I found on an unrelated topic explains why debunking and criticizing the Cap's fic is important. His works, meta or fanfic aren't canon, it's just his interpretation of the game.
Different anon: >claude accused of sexual assault
>dedue beheaded
(Different anon) okay lmao fuck capn. As you said this goes beyond a bad fic. This is just fucking offensive but its praised because "uwu eddy" like holy shit. This isn't "op doesn't like my comfort character burn him" like no its actually upsetting me because of all the bigotry disguised as being woke. No offense to edelgard or her fans. I actually quite like edelgard. But some edelstans need to chill. The lengths they will go to portray their war mongering wife as a saint is disgusting.
Different anon: You know what, I'm gonna dunk on this fic even harder. Okay but in all honesty if this was just some dumb fic I would read it and make fun of it on my own or with a few friends, I wouldn't try to shit on the author or their work publicly or something like that. But when the fic and author in question have played a major role in the fandom, particularly in shaping the discourse and meta surrounding some characters, and promotes several questionable beliefs in the process, that's another story.
*Accused Claude of either being a variety of horrible shit or otherwise willingly working with said horrible shit, to be clear (literally every TWS person we canonically see is guilty of all of what I listed sans sexual assault, so accusing Claude of being one of them very heavily implies that he's also guilty of the same crimes)
Exactly! Like, if this was just some Joe Schmoe bargain bin shit I'd just adjust my tags to blacklist it like I do every other time I come across garbage and go about my day. Going over every single fanfic that makes Edelgard into a hero and demonizes the other characters is stupid and useless - villains are always gonna have their fans who try to erase all of their flaws and make them into uwu darlings. This is such a staple in fanfiction as to have a well-known term for it that it directly related to a character that's has this exact thing happen to them an incalculable amount of times (Draco in Leather Pants), so I literally wouldn't care if this was just that.
But it goes well beyond just making Edelgard into just a poor wittle babby cinnamon roll; as I've already listed, there's misogyny, misandry, racism, ableism, etc. etc. oozing out of the pores, but this is the fic people are saying they are basing their actual view of the actual game off of.
Consistently giving minority race characters worse treatment than that of their majority race peers? Fine! Constantly infantilizing women and taking away any agency they have? Good! Repeatedly painting men as this negative force that taint everything they touch if they don't bow down to the propped up lesbian? Dandy! Portraying the "wrong" mental health issues as making people crazed beasts and/or manipulative villains while portraying the "right" mental health issues as making people weak, helpless, broken victims? So ~brave~ of the author to give such a ~real~ representation of how mental health ~actually~ affects people, not like the stupid game that would dare let people with stigmatized MI be good people with actual agency :)
The 3H fandom looks upon this fic and this author promoting such blatantly rancid shit and said to themselves, "Yes, this is what I should look to for my critical analysis of the game. Not the game itself, but this." This fic and author are, in large part, the reason so many worrying takes have taken off. Like, when someone as big and looked to as Cap'n portrays Dimitri and Rhea are nearly solely mindless animals, it's no shock that the "Dimitri and Rhea needed to be put down" take is what comes of it. Fandom takes this fic as canon + This fic portrays Dimitri and Rhea as animals = Fandom treats Dimitri and Rhea as animals, because hey, "canon" does! So why shouldn't they!
And when people who haven't read this fic and have just the game's knowledge with them - you know, the actual canon with them, not one person's incorrect perception of the game - and they disagree with all the inaccurate (and horrible) shit that the fic posits as true, they get told they're stupid, that they don't know what they're talking about, and that they are the ones who don't understand the game because they aren't taking someone else's headcanon as canonical fact. Dimitri fans get told that they only like him cuz they're horny women who wanna fix the bad boy and that they're fetishizing mental illness. Rhea fans get told that they're supporting eugenics and slavery and feudalism and oppression. Edelgard fans who like her as a villain, like she is are told that actually they hate her and also maybe hate women and/or lesbians (since they don't like Edelgard, which of course they don't, because they call her a villain).
TEatG, I’m sure, is far from the only big-name fanfiction of a fandom to have immensely troubling aspects to it and still be propped as the “pinnacle of analysis;” this isn’t something unheard of, and it also isn’t something that in the past also hasn’t similarly been ripped to shreds by people who looked at it and went “Wow, this is actually terrible.” I’m not about to feel bad for criticizing a fic that has had such lasting and wide-spread negative impact on the game and fandom, just like I wouldn’t feel bad about criticizing someone’s meta post (since this is basically what this fic is).
#ask#anon#o captain my captain#Cap'n and A LOT of other people have the idea that everything in TEatG is based off canon#when in reality this fic is just some guy festisizing ''broken'' lesbians and demonizing men and religion#*fetishizing#with a side helping of racism and ableism#while using the names of 3H characters for his OCs#which somehow managed to convince a LARGE portion of the 3H fandom that he is peak progressive thought#so yeah no I don't care about ripping this fic to shreds because it is largely responsible for the 3H fandom being as ass as it is now
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Not What He Seems (ch.1)
(Prefer to read this on AO3?)
(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)
NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1
Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.
Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.
He was also not cooperating at all.
"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.
Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.
"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."
The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.
"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."
"Is there?"
A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."
Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."
"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"
"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.
The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."
"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."
"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.
Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.
"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"
Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.
Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"
"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."
"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.
Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."
"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"
“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."
With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.
Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.
“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”
“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”
“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”
“Do I want to know?”
“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”
Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.
“He owes me a new shirt.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”
“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”
Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…
Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.
“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.
“Are you offering?”
“For free?”
Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”
Tyrone perked up.
“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”
To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”
“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“
“And she said yes?”
“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“
“Congrats!”
“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”
Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.
“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”
The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.
Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.
“Nothing.”
“You seem upset?”
“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”
“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”
Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”
That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”
“I’m not getting older.”
“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath. “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”
“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”
Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”
“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”
Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”
Oh Stars. “What did you do?”
“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”
Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”
“Define ‘safe’.”
“Tyrone!”
“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”
“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”
Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”
Thomas shook his head, exasperated.
Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.
--------------
The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.
Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.
They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.
Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.
“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.
The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”
Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”
That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.
Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”
#transcendence au#alcor the dreambender#thomas strange#fic: not what he seems#the midway bar#demons#I mean it's TAU so that's a given
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Eugenides, mathematics, and the people that he loves.
or, 12 times mathematics was involved, in some way or another, between our favorite bastard of a king and the people he has made a family out of.
or, that math degree gotta get used somehow
2.
“If you’re going to lurk from the ceiling, Eugenides, you might as well come down and help me,” Eddis said.
In front of her was a string of numbers that should have represented the entirety of her country’s taxes, but none of it made sense to her. She knew all the basics, of course, but they didn’t expect her to be queen, and by the time she was her father’s heir, she was too busy trying to learn everything else that the thought of learning the intricate system of taxes did not even cross her mind.
She was regretting that now.
“Well, it seemed rude to interrupt your brooding session, Your Majesty,” Eugenides said, landing next to her without so much as a whisper of a sound.
She glared at him in the empty room she was in, having already sent everybody out. Her advisors meant well, but they kept talking over each other in their eagerness to explain this to her, and instead of helping her understand it, that just made the numbers seem even more confounding.
“I was not brooding,” she said.
“If you say so, My Queen,” Eugenides grinned. “Now, do you want me to explain this to you, or was this covered in one of the few classes you did not skip?”
She glared again, but she pointed at one entry, embarrassingly high on the list, and said, “Start there.”
8.
“Remind me, Costis,” the King said, “your father is a farmer, is he not?”
Costis blocked the King’s attack— he still insisted on sparring with Costis every morning, even though he now had an abundance of sparring partners to choose from— and replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King hummed, and Costis pushed forward, trying to get at least one hit on Eugenides when he was still distracted. Instead of reaching his target, however, his training sword flew out of his hands and he found himself with a wooden sword placed gently upon his chest.
“My win, I believe, Costis,” the King said with a smile. “I think that’s enough for the day.”
“Your Majesty?” Costis asked, disbelieving.
“Yes, Costis,” Eugenides replied. “Come, sit in the shade next to me, and tell me about your father’s farm. The sun is much too hot today.”
Costis frowned, but he knew already that the best way to deal with his King when he was like this was to indulge his whims. So he took the King’s sword, retrieved his own, placed them where the rest of the practice swords were located, and sat down next to Eugenides, answering all of his questions about the way his father determines how much seeds he should buy and how many people he should hire.
*
Teleus picked up a piece of paper that was not there the last time he left his office, locked with the only key on his own belt.
The paper was filled with numbers and equations from one end to the other, and after skimming it quickly, Teleus can see that it contained the beginnings of a plan on how to sufficiently reduce the Guard with minimal compromises on its function.
Sighing, he picked up the paper and a flagon of wine, and made his way to Relius’s quarters. It would not help the headache that’s already starting to form, but at the very least he would have someone to talk to. And to share wine with.
3.
Sophos,
I think I caught where that extra one half is coming from. Tell the Magus that it is his fault that this equation does not balance. That extra one half is supposed to be there. You can find the proof attached in this letter.
That said, are you getting better at this quicker than I expected, o Useless the Younger? I should write the Magus to tell him to provide you with harder problems to solve. You have not asked for my help even once in the last few weeks.
Your friend,
Eugenides
10.
“What do you think of that new proof from the continent? That you can find distance by finding an area?”
A few short years ago, Kamet would have jumped in shock. Nowadays, however, he was far too used to Eugenides’s antics to be truly shocked.
“I think, Your Majesty,” he said, “that my topic of choice is poetry and history, and that any discussion about mathematics is better done with your youngest attendant. The gods know he could focus on little else.”
Eugenides waved his hand in such a manner as to fully frustrate Kamet. Truly, only Attolis could manage to cause such contempt in such a little movement.
“I will ask him later, when I want my argument ripped to shreds. But I want to know your thoughts, Kamet.”
“My interest in mathematics is in bookkeeping only, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, don’t play coy with me,” Eugenides replied. “I know you better than that.”
Kamet narrowed his eyes, but the arguments are already starting to form in his head. He briefly lamented the fact that he would not be able to finish his translation work today, because from previous experience, once this discussion started, it will not stop until the bell rings for dinner time, and he has promised Costis that he would not work in candlelight only for the health of his eyes.
Eugenides grinned, like he knew that he had already won this battle. He probably did, that little bastard of a king.
“Fine,” Kamet sighed. “I think that it’s plausible. If the speed is constant, then it’s just a rectangle, is it not? We can then infer that-”
They talked long after that, discussing the merits and demerits of the idea. Eugenides disappeared just before the bell rang to call the court for dinner, however, as if he knew Kamet’s thoughts from earlier and decided to spite him even more.
Kamet couldn’t even be mad about it.
7.
“Do you not believe my story, Relius?” the king asked.
A mere month ago, Relius would not have deigned to answer. A mere month ago, Eugenides would not have told the story. But now, in the time when only men plagued with nightmares are awake, Relius said, “I somehow doubt you managed to calculate the volume of that bath in such a short time, Your Majesty.”
Eugenides clicked his tongue, and said, “It’s just a cylinder. Or close enough to one that it doesn’t matter.” He leaned back on his chair and asked, “Surely you know how to do that quickly enough?”
“I confess I have not practiced that in a long time, Your Majesty.”
“More important matters in your mind?”
Court intrigues and spy networks. Letters written in codes that only he can break and knowledge that he has long since imparted to his queen. None of that matters anymore, now.
Instead of answering the question, Relius said, “Maybe I’ll learn how to do that. After.”
“Maybe,” the king replied. He pulls on the blanket covering Relius’s body, adjusting it so that all of Relius’s limbs are properly underneath it. All four of them.
They didn’t talk again for the rest of the night.
9.
“Two of your trousers are currently being mended, Your Majesty, and three more are in the wash, so the choice tonight is between the blue pair or the deep brown pair. I’ve chosen the blue, and paired it with that coat you just commissioned,” Philologos explained.
“That’s good, Philologos, thank you,” the king said, absentmindedly pulling his undershirt off. He unclasped the cuff of his hook, handed them to Hilarion, who was standing next to him, and entered the bath.
Seeing that everything is well under control, Philologos shared a nod with Hilarion, and then turned to go retrieve the aforementioned trousers and coat.
Before he could do that, however, the king called out, “Philologos?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” he answered.
“Two added with three added with two does not make eight,” Attolis said.
Philologos blinked, baffled with the apparent absurdity of the statement. He was just about to chalk it up to Eugenides being Eugenides and simply agree with the king, before he realized what was going on.
He blanched.
“I…” he stammered, unsure as to what to say, when Hilarion also realized what was going on and laughed.
“I thought your education was better than that, Philo,” Hilarion teased. “What would your father say, if he knew that his only heir forgot how to do basic addition?”
“I…” Philologos stammered again, trying to find words to defend his honor, but the king interjected before he could do that.
“I am honored, Philologos, that you have chosen to emulate me in this.” Eugenides grinned, before continuing, “Though I wish that you would have chosen something better than my trousers to steal.”
Behind him, Philologos could hear the rest of the attendants snickering, and that was enough fuel to make him shout, “Four! Four of your trousers are in the wash, Your Majesty!” without even considering what that outburst would cost him. He could feel his cheeks turning red, and he gritted out, “Now, if you will excuse me, I will go and retrieve your clothes for dinner.”
He turned around, fully intending to block any and all comments, when the king called out, “Don’t steal this pair too, Philologos!” adding fuel to the laughter from the attendants.
But when he handed the trousers to the king after he had finished his bath, Eugenides pulled him close, and whispered, “If you’re going to steal any of my trousers, take the red one.” A burst of hot air hit Philologos’s ear, the tell-tale sign that the king is laughing. “The embroidery is in gold.”
4.
“Eight ships,” the Eddisian Minister of War said to his son. “Eight ships, and you asked for?”
“Twenty men,” Eugenides replied.
“That’s,” he paused for a moment to recheck his calculations, “two men a ship.” He looked at Eugenides, frowned, and said, “That’s not possible.”
“I didn’t propose to burn all eight of them. Four,” Eugenides said, lifting up his fingers. “Maybe even five if we’re lucky,” he lifted up the one finger he had left.
His father very deliberately did not look at Eugenides’s other arm, which has no more fingers to lift up. “That is still five men a ship, Eugenides,” he said, “without any scouts or people standing guard.”
Eugenides simply shrugged, and replied, “I can do it.”
A year ago, he could. The Minister of War frowned even deeper, and said, “Thirty. Twenty for your plan, five for scouts, four to stand guard, and one just in case.”
Eugenides’s mouth curled in a discontented line, but he sighed and said, “Alright. Thirty it is.”
6.
“It was the type of wheat,” Eugenides mumbled next to Irene’s ear.
They were tangled together on top of her sheets, their legs twined together and their heads pillowed on the same bed. Wheat was the furthest thing from Irene’s mind, but still, she hummed a note to tell him to go on.
“Artadorus,” her husband continued, his eyes still half closed. “He reported a different kind of wheat than what he planted. You charge a different rate for the different kinds.”
Irene hummed again. She would have found out, eventually. She has many people in her tax offices employed to do just that. One of them would have found out the deceit and brought it to her or Relius, and the fraud would have been exposed, just the same. It would not have been as effective, but it would still have reached her.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that it was not just her who charges a different rate for the taxes, but one glance at his face caused her to remain silent. They could be kings and queens again in the morning, but tonight, they are simply husband and wife.
She rolled over to face him, and said, “Tell me again in the morning,” before kissing him.
He did not say anything about wheat again until the sunrise entered the windows of the room.
11.
"I think a triangle only has three sides, Pheris, and not four," Eugenides said, materializing somewhere behind the young Baron Erondites.
For his part, the Baron Erondites looked at the work he was completing, saw the mistake, and started signing things that he had decided were curses.
Attolis laughed.
"Surely that is not as debilitating as that?"
I would have to redo this whole section, Pheris signed with one hand. The other hand was already scratching things out on his parchment with a speed that truly belies his frustration.
"Oh, I'm sure it's not that bad," Eugenides said, sitting next to him. "You would only have to change…"
A pause, and then Annux of the Hephestian Peninsula hissed out something that would truly shock all the new ambassadors from the Continent and made his wife glare at him for saying that in front of the children. "You need to redo the whole section," Eugenides deadpanned.
Pheris just glared at him, and scratched out, 'I told you so', somewhere in the midst of the mess his parchment was becoming.
12.
"Why do we have to learn this?" the Princess of Attolia complained.
Her brother, also looking dejectedly at his own work, nodded in agreement.
"Because, my little thief," her father said, "one day, you might find yourself on a ledge too far for you to jump, and you have to calculate how many pics you can trust your own skill and how many you have to trust our god for." He turned to his son, and continued, "And you, my future king, will one day have someone telling you that seventeen horses each carrying three sacks of grain somehow amounts to having forty sacks, and you will have to disabuse them of that notion immediately."
The twins looked at each other for a moment, before Hector said, “But we knew how to do that already. That is simple geometry and arithmetics. This is not that.”
Eugenia nodded, and added, “Even Mother said that her own education did not come this far. So, Father, why do we have to learn this?”
Eugenides blinked, before chuckling softly. “I see,” he said, after a while. He sat atop the table that the twins were using to write, and continued, “It seems I have done you both a disservice.
“I ask you to learn this because no matter who you are, whether you are an okloi or a watchmaker or a king or a thief, or perhaps, even the gods themselves, the logic of mathematics will still be the same. There are no lies in mathematics, nor are there deceit.”
He paused there, staring at things that neither Eugenia nor Hector could see. Seconds passed in silence, and Eugenia opened her mouth, ready to bring their father back to the present with a remark, but before she could do that, Hector jabbed her in the stomach and shook his head.
Their patience was rewarded when Eugenides sighed and propelled himself from the table he was sitting on. “But you are right,” he said, plucking the pens from their hands, Eugenia’s first, and then Hector’s. “Both of you certainly already have the skills needed to fulfill your duties. Anything more will just be a fool’s errand.” He jumped up the table again, this time landing feet first and facing them, half-bowing with the pens he took from them just earlier offered in his hand.
“A fool’s errand,” he said, eyes twinkling, “or a quest for the wisest of men.”
Eugenia and Hector stared at their father, and then at each other, before taking the pens from their father’s hand.
5.
In your last letter to me, you told me that a man’s worth is what he is, added to what he does. Then tell me this, Magus. What if that is not enough?
Gen, I thought your knowledge of mathematics is better than that.
If addition is not enough, then try multiplication.
1.
“Ah, no,” Stenides said, looking over Gen’s shoulder. “That three should not be there.”
“No?”
“No,” Stenides answered, pointing at the calculations in front of his little brother. “See how you didn’t carry over that one,” he moved his fingers to the next number, “and so this one should have been four.”
Eugenides looked at the paper in silence for a moment, and then let out a string of curses that he definitely should not have heard yet, let alone repeat. But of course, Gen being Gen, he has, and Sten couldn’t help but chuckle along.
After he finished his string of curses, Gen moaned, “I’m never going to get it.”
“I thought you’re going to be the next Thief of Eddis?” Stenides teased. “How are you going to do that when you can’t even do additions?”
His little brother looked at him with murder in his eyes, however, and Sten quickly raised his hands in surrender. Eugenides’s revenge was already legendary, no matter how young the boy still was.
“I joke, I joke!” he said. Then, he smiled down at his little brother, ruffled his hair, and said, “You’ll get it. I know you would.”
#queen's thief#eugenides#lian writes#alright imma tag every single character#eddis helen#costis ormentiedes#teleus#kamet e dai annux#relius#philologos#hilarion#minister of war#attolia irene#eugenia#hector#pheris erondites#stenides#magus of sounis
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ooh for the july prompt list can you do 28 + buddie
For you, darling, anything!
July Prompt List
28. “Just by existing and by letting me speak to you, you give me an immense amount.”
Without Question
“No, no, I’m serious, Eddie.” Buck let his beer slosh over the coffee table as he emphatically pointed at his best friend. He could clean up later; there were more important things happening at the moment. “You, need to get laid.”
On the carpet across from him, Eddie threw his head back in a groan of frustration. “Not this again, Buck, I told you.” He had, in fact, told Buck three times since arriving and subsequently leaving the bar with their friends, but it bared repeating. “I am not interested in hook-ups. I need a relationship – with someone Christopher would approve of.” At least, Eddie hoped that’s what he said (words were a bit fuzzy in his head at the moment). “I don’t need to get laid; I need to get married.”
That seemed to sober Buck just a little, his mouth drooping downwards. “You’re ready to get married again?”
Eddie found himself doing his best impression of that singing bass (weren’t brains funny at 3am?), thinking of the right answer. “No. Yes? Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it but yeah” he eventually decided. “If I’m going to put myself out there again, it’s going to be with someone I can see a future with.”
“How are you supposed to know that on a first date?” Very good question, Buck. Eddie’s face scrunched in on itself as he sought the answer.
“I don’t know that I know what it would look like to meet that person.” Buck’s eyes were really blue when his face was red from too much alcohol. They were like an ocean in a storm. What?
“Okay.” Buck slammed his bottle onto the coffee table with so much force, it shattered their eardrums but he was already crawling to his feet.
He was halfway into the kitchen when Eddie finally realized that Buck was gone and called out “where did you go?”
Suddenly Buck was back where he started (had he even left?) throwing himself to the ground, now with a pen and a piece of what looked like old mail. “That looks important.”
“This is important-er” Buck insisted, leaning his weight against the edge of the table, giving his full attention to the paper stuffed under his forearm. “We’re going to figure this out.”
“Figure what out?”
Buck rolled his eyes and nearly hit his head on the table in the process. Should they really be doing this now? Well, if not now, then when?
“We’re going to figure out the perfect person for you” he declared with the confidence of a man who would have a splitting headache and a few bruises in the morning.
“You have a rolodex of every person on the planet that we can go through?” Eddie scoffed, taking another ill-advised drink.
Buck stared at Eddie too long for either of them to properly see straight, eyes forced wide before he inevitably fell asleep. “A rolodex? What are you, fifty?” Before he could process Buck’s words, they were moving on. “No, we’re going to write down exactly what you’re looking for in a partner, so that when you do meet someone, you’ll know they’re the one.”
Seemed reasonable enough. Buck was so smart sometimes, but sometimes he was an idiot (like that time he tried to pet a dog after they found it covered in – what they thought at the time was – blood. It turned out to be ketchup from where his owner had collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of making lunch). Buck was probably the dumbest smart person he knew. But in a really smart way.
“Okay.” Eddie leaned forward to match his friend’s position across the coffee table. “What’s first?”
Buck squinted at the paper, waiting for it to reveal its secrets. Just as quickly, he perked up and began to scribble.
“Number one: good looking.”
Eddie scoffed, wiping his spit from the table with his sleeve. “Why is that the first thing on the list?”
“Because” Buck drew out emphatically. “The whole goal is to get you laid. If you don’t find them attractive, then this whole experiment is for not.”
It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes so hard he felt dizzy. “Now who’s fifty?”
In lieu of a response, Buck went back to his scribbling. “Number two: they have to love Christopher.”
“That is an absolute must.” Anyone he was with had to love Christopher the way Buck did – with his whole heart. He really was a great person.
“Three: someone who understands your schedule. Being a firefighter is not a 9-5 thing; they have to be prepared for late nights and crazy danger.” Buck’s face twisted as he wrote, into something Eddie recognized as hurt. It took him a little longer to realize why that sadness was marring that pretty face. He slowly reached out a hand to touch his wrist. Buck shouldn’t feel like he was alone, or that Ali leaving was his fault. He deserved to know that there was someone who wanted to be with him – despite the schedules and the dangers. His eyes really were so perfectly blue; even when they were starring at him hopefully. Especially then.
Eddie opened his mouth but nothing came out so he closed it again, hoping the lack of oxygen would help him remember. He didn’t remove his hand right away.
Buck spent the next forty minutes emphatically telling Eddie exactly what his ideal person would be, with Eddie adding commentary here and there to make sure Buck got the wording right (maybe, things were still a bit hazy).
At the end of everything, there were ten items on the list. Ten items for the perfect partner for Eddie. Now all he had to do was find that person. He stared at Buck, proudly handing Eddie the paper for him to tuck into his back pocket, and something of a smile rose to his lips. Finding that person would be the easy part, thought Drunk Eddie. All he had to do was remember the list and even his sober counter-part (as obtuse as he was – excellent word choice, Drunk Eddie) would able to figure it out.
Just to be sure, Eddie waited until Buck stumbled towards the bathroom for the third time, before he retrieved the list from his back pocket and added an eleventh item.
There. Easy as pie.
Thoughts of delicious, sugar-filled pastries, had Eddie stumbling up the stairs to the master bathroom. Why did he think getting drunk at Hen’s birthday party was a good idea? He was not in his twenties anymore. This shit had consequences.
Of course, he expected those consequences to be a massive hangover and some second-hand embarrassment (which he did have). What he wasn’t expecting, was to wake up with his arm around the waist of a half-naked Buck.
Well that was new.
The soft smile on his face as he watched Buck’s even breathing, so calm and safe, was also…not that new. Certainly not one he’d ever experienced while sleeping shirtless in his best friend’s bed, obviously; but being happy that Buck was peaceful and all right was something Eddie experienced on a daily basis.
He carefully pulled his arm away from that – surprisingly soft – abdomen, and rolled onto his back as naturally as he could without waking the other man. If Buck woke up to them cuddling like that, there might need to be a discussion about why he felt so comfortable like that; and morning afters were not the time for existential wanderings.
Not that this was a ‘morning after’. It was the morning after a night of heavy drinking and clearly neither of them were fit to drive, let alone sleep on the couch without hurting themselves. Buck’s bed was big enough for two grown men to rest comfortably (not that they seemed to be using half of the space) so it made sense that they would share.
Yup, perfectly reasonable. Anything else – like his heart beating out of his chest with longing – was just an aftershock of the abhorrent amount of alcohol they’d consumed.
Who thought any of that was a good idea?
Oh right. Christopher was away at camp and Buck had dragged him to Hen’s birthday party; where she’d loudly declared that for one damn night, she wanted to celebrate everything she’d accomplished with her closest friends, consequences be damned. Which, of course, meant that several rounds of tequila shots were ordered in honor of the birthday girl. He vaguely recalled Karen getting exasperatedly drunk beside her wife, which encouraged Eddie to drink his loneliness away. Which seemed to have led back to Buck’s apartment.
There were definitely some dots missing there.
Namely, why he’d let himself sleep in his jeans but not his shirt (in Buck’s bed!).
Before he could even attempt to make connections, the body beside him began to stir, and the peaceful rest on Buck’s face soured into disgruntled pain.
“What died in my mouth?” He chewed on the words as they left his lips, leaving Eddie to dodge a few flailing limbs as Buck returned to the living. A few more scrapes of his tongue against his teeth seemingly had Buck satisfied that he wouldn’t get the taste out of his mouth without help, so he rolled over to check the time on his phone, only to find a body in the way.
“Eddie?” he groaned against the morning light through his window. “What are you doing here?”
The firefighter tried to shake his head but found it only made his stomach protest harder than it had been already. “We are too old to be drinking this much” he hoarsely declared.
Buck’s reply was swallowed by his retreating form as he stumbled towards the bathroom to empty the contents of his bad decision. Eddie let his head fall back against the pillow, the only sounds in the apartment becoming Buck’s retching, and Eddie’s painful decision to forget everything about last night.
Stumbling through the door of his bedroom a few hours later (Buck had insisted on taking him out for a greasy breakfast before dropping him off at home), Eddie had just enough mental energy to toss his clothes vaguely near the hamper before jumping in the shower and then straight to bed. He had never been so grateful for a day off in his life.
Much like the night before, Eddie remembered very little of the day he slept away; those 24 hours became a blip in the string of time that carried no real significance in his life and was happily forgotten.
When doing laundry a few days later, he did find a piece of Buck’s mail folded into the back pocket of his jeans. So, he tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of things on his dining room table colloquially called ‘things that need to be returned to Buck’s eventually’, and thought nothing of it.
It would be another month before Eddie thought about the letter or the night that time forgot.
Hosting random get-togethers for the firefighters and paramedics of the 118 (along with their families, of course) was practically a bi-weekly tradition at this point. Whoever was available would offer their space, and everyone was welcomed in, bringing food and drinks and games. It was one of Eddie’s favourite things about being a part of the 118: the inherent companionship. He had never been a part of anything where it was just assumed that he would have a babysitter, or someone to barbeque for two dozen people in his backyard, or drive him to the hospital when his grandmother broke her hip. No matter what was going on, they could always rely on each other.
He loved the family he’d built at the 118.
So what if he was a little lonely sometimes; he was never alone and that was just as good. Still, maybe it was time for him to put himself out there again. The idea of dating – of random hookups and dead-end dinners – felt exhausting (and not at all what he needed). What else could he do, though?
Luckily, it was his turn to host, so no matter how he was feeling, it would soon be replaced with joy and contentment and laughter. But first, he needed to clean up.
As was tradition, Eddie grabbed the pile of things on his table lovingly titled ‘things that should get back to Buck’s but likely never will’ and shoved them onto his bed until their guests had left for the evening. One of these days, he would remember to tell Buck about all the things of his that had accumulated at the Diaz house over the years (a spare charger, a hat, a few bits of mail he would bring over when he was helping Eddie with tax season – or Eddie was helping him, they weren’t really sure). Small things that might not be missed, but also a spare tooth brush, a pair of sweatpants, and a book he’d only ever seen Buck read at his dining room table while Christopher did his homework.
Maybe he should just get Buck a drawer for his things and then he wouldn’t have to lug it around every time he had company over.
The doorbell rang, sending Eddie sprinting to throw everything onto his bed so he could answer the door in a timely manner.
He loved having a full house. It made everything feel lived in. Sure, he strived to ensure that Christopher’s room (and any room his son spent a lot of time in) was warm and inviting. But there was something about 20 people crammed into the small sections of his house, filling the air with love, that made his house feel like home.
It also meant that there was a mess everywhere. He really didn’t mind it – part of having a big family was accepting that there would be a mess sometimes. With so many little ones running around, however (especially one who wasn’t so steady on his feet), it was best to keep the floors and corners tidy as much as possible.
That was when Eddie noticed a folded-up piece of paper on the floor of the hallway leading to his bedroom. It must have been a some of Buck’s mail that fell when he ran to get the door. An easy enough fix. Curiously, he unfolded the paper for the first time, just to see if it was something important.
Just a flier for some new gym Buck was on the mailing list for. Nothing special.
He turned it over to see the writing on the back, expecting contact info for a trainer or something equally relevant.
1. Someone good looking (you have to want to bone them or it’s all for not don’t make fun of me for using that phrase it’s rude)
He recognized Buck’s messy handwriting straight away. What he couldn’t remember was why he’d written some sort of list on the back.
2. Someone who loves Christopher (obviously that kid is your whole world so he has to be theirs too)
Okay, so this had something to do with Christopher, it probably had something to do with Eddie, too.
3. Someone who understands your schedule/lifestyle (your job is important to you and you need someone who gets that)
Eddie stared at the page, memories of too much tequila and not enough inhibitions flooded back to him.
4. Someone who will make you a priority (you need to make you a priority too you know)
Buck had written him a list of things he should be looking for in a partner, that much he remembered now. The commentary scrawled beside the list, however, was new.
5. Someone kind (you’re so kind you need someone whose just as kind and appreciates your kindness because you’re so kind)
Eddie found himself dragging his feet towards the sounds of people, eyes still glued to the page.
6. Someone smart (not like a doctor or anything but you have to be able to hold a conversation obviously)
He’d laid it out so simply that night; told Eddie exactly the type of person who would make him happy. How could Buck know that?
7. Someone loyal (you deserve someone as loyal as you Eddie you stick by people even when they’re awful jerks who almost screwed up the best thing they ever had)
Eddie couldn’t breathe, head buzzing with the sincerity in Buck’s words, even sloppily written on the back of a flier.
8. Someone who makes you laugh (I wish you could laugh more I like your laugh)
Someone called out to him – maybe the real Buck – but he was trapped in the memories of this world of possibilities.
9. Someone who can read you (not read to you idiot you need someone who knows what your face means because you don’t always say things out loud but you do say a lot)
The new voice was in front of him now, reaching out to him, trying to pull him to the present, but he refused to leave.
10. Someone who makes you feel safe (you make me feel safe)
And there it was; the list of qualities for Eddie’s perfect partner. The person who he could marry – because he remembered telling Buck that he wanted someone he could marry (that’s where the list had originated). It seemed an impossible task to find someone who fit all ten items on the list.
And yet.
Underneath it all, Eddie recognized his own handwriting, as messy as it was. The note he’d written himself so Sober Eddie would remember who it was that fit every criterion.
11. Someone who’ll stay
When he finally found the strength to raise his eyes to meet the real Buck’s, he was breathless all over again. The concern, the absolute care on his face, tipped Eddie over the edge.
“It’s you.”
Buck ducked his head but didn’t physically retreat; he was still so close, all-encompassing – the same way he’d ingratiated himself into the Diaz family long ago.
“What’s me?”
Wordless, Eddie presented the list for Buck to read. He watched the journey of emotions play through like a slideshow from confusion, to embarrassment, to realization, to confusion once again, mixed with painfully unending hope.
“I didn’t mean me when I wrote this.”
How had he not seen it before? How could Eddie have been so blind?
“But I do.” His eyes really were like the ocean, weren’t they. Even sober, he could stare into them forever.
“Marry me?”
Buck’s chest expanded with the weight of Eddie’s question, eyes wide in a disbelief that made him feel giddy; knowing Buck was just as stunned by these turn of events as he was. The fact that neither of them had run away screaming in horror, had to be a good sign.
“What the hell is going on?”
In hindsight, Eddie should have known better than to have his earth-shattering realization in front of their friends and family. Everyone was too nosey for their own good. Just because he’d suddenly proposed to Buck despite the fact that they were not dating.
He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating.
Athena called out to the boys again when neither answered. “Does someone want to clue me in?”
Buck turned back to Eddie, a calm smile on his face – the same peace that he’d had when they were lying in bed together (visions of memorizing his sleeping face filled his hope to the brim).
“Eddie and I are getting married.” Buck spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, but his announcement was just for Eddie. The only word he had left to describe his beating heart was ‘disbelief’.
He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating. And he’d said yes.
He should be more panicked. He should run away screaming. Ask to take it all back. What the hell was he thinking? Asking his best friend to marry him because of a list that seemed too good to be true. Just because Buck ticked every box that said they were perfect for each other. Just because Buck wanted him back, just as deliriously.
How could he not embrace it all?
The noises that erupted from their family was drowned out by the thrumming of his heart when Buck pulled him in for a kiss punctuated by the infectious laughter bubbling in his chest.
The list floated to the floor as Eddie wrapped both arms around his fiancé (holy shit, he had a fiancé), to be retrieved after everyone had gone home. Buck and Eddie would talk about everything – sit Christopher down with them to make sure he was as happy as he seemed as well – and the list would eventually make its way to their bedside table.
On their first anniversary, Eddie would present it to Buck in a frame, and they would hang it in their bedroom as a reminder of the night their drunken selves figured out what it took them years to discover.
Their perfect partner.
#cj writes things#cj answers things#prompt fill#buddie#buddie fic#911 fox#911 fic#love allie#getting together#love confession#maysgrant
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Celebrate the Olympic Spirit
Sure, the Olympics aren’t a holiday, per se, but the every-four-year, or two if you count both Summer and Winter editions separately, massive international sporting events sure seems like a reason to celebrate, especially given their recent, unprecedented delay. And what better way to get into the Games mood, than by watching a sports movie?
Here are my favorite motivating, inspirational, and aspirational tales of athletic derring do…
Favorite Sports Movies
The Cutting Edge (1992) - This figure skating romance was released around the 1992 Olympics, and actually name-checks that year's winter host city, Albertville, more than once. It's not good in the traditional sense of great storytelling or athletic veracity, but I loved it so very much I saw it three times in the theater as a teen. Watching it at some point during every Winter Games is a tradition for me so, yeah, I can’t help it, I love this silly sports movie/romance, which also features a bit of holiday feels.
Wimbledon (2004) - It's a rom-com. It's a sports movie. It's a rom-com sports movie that really should be better known. Notting Hill but set at tennis' best-known event. Paul Bettany and Kristen Dunst have surprisingly great chemistry, and there's more sports-related tension than you'd think.
Friday Night Lights (2004) - A football movie for people who don't really like football. a.k.a. 🙋♀️. The TV series it spawned is also brilliant (”Clear Eyes, Full Hearts,” indeed), and well worth a watch, but the original movie, starring Billy Bob Thornton, is, honestly, a masterpiece. Definitely Peter Berg's best work and the original book, written by Berg's cousin, Buzz Bissinger, is a great read.
Muriel's Wedding (1994) - You mean you forgot this Australian export, which made Toni Collette a star, was a sports movie? Yep, one of my all-time favorite movies, of any genre, this absolutely brilliant, ABBA-soaked comedy is not only a girls-night go-to, but also a stealth Olympic sport classic.
Remember the Titans (2000) - OK, football isn't in the Olympics, but it sure does make for a good sports movie setting. Even if this early 1970s-set story is most definitely Disney-fied, Denzel Washington, Will Patton, Ryan Gosling and a baby Hayden Panettiere really sell this sort-of true story.
Invictus (2009)-Rugby isn't an Olympic sport, or even one most Americans know much about, but this Matt Damon-led, Clint Eastwood-directed, based-on-a-true-story tale made me care about a sport I'd only tangentially knew even existed before watching.
Hoosiers (1986)-I grew up in Indiana so, by law, I have to include this basketball classic on any "best of" sports movie lists. Also, it actually is really very good.
Rudy (1993)-Ditto the above. But, again, it's hard not to root for Sean Astin (and Jon Favreau!) in this love letter to the Fighting Irish. Plus, there’s no better scavenger hunt task or TikTok challenge than going into a bar and convincing a patron to allow you to put them on your shoulders and march around chanting, 'Rudy, Rudy, Rudy.'
Miracle (2004) - Given how much more popular the Summer Olympics are, it's weird that the Winter Games seem to get all the good movies made about them, but this Kurt Russell-led true tale is another Disney sports movie classic.
McFarland, USA (2015) - Disney, and Kevin Costner, just really know how to make a sports movie, damn it! This movie made me care about cross country for which it, too, could have carried the title Miracle.
A League of Their Own (1992)-The best baseball movie ever. Yeah, I said what I said. Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Lori Petty—even Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell are making it work. 1992 was a weirdly great year for sports movies.
Moneyball (2011) - A movie about baseball, and math, and yet it's also great, I swear. In addition to all of the above, it's also a stealth Christmas movie and maybe Chris Pratt's best non-Marvel, movie role.
Creed (2015) - This surprisingly effective Rocky reboot starring Michael B Jordan as Apollo Creed's illegitimate son has spawned its own movie series which, in many ways, exceeds the original Rocky franchise.
Rocky Balboa (2006) - Maybe it's because I was a toddler when the original Rocky came out, so only saw the ever-worse sequels as a kid, but this mid-aughts return to the character for Sylvester Stallone, as both writer and actor, is a triumph.
Eddie the Eagle (2016) - That Hugh Jackman features in as many movies (spoiler alert) on this list as Kevin Costner surprised me, too. This story of the English ski jumper who became infamous for being, well, less than golden, is one of those non-Olympic triumph stories that really works. If you're going to watch one underdog-at-the-Games movie, I definitely prefer this this to the more ubiquitous Cool Runnings.
Love & Basketball (2000) - Only because I'm an anglophile is this great, chemistry-filled Sanaa Lathan and Omar Epps college basketball romance not my favorite sports-movie-meets-rom-com.
I, Tonya (2017) - Margot Robbie and a nearly unrecognizable Sebastian Stan are perfectly cast in this sarcastic, highly stylized look at the Tonya Harding scandal.
Pride (2007) - Apparently I like this swimming movie, which I think almost no one saw, better than critics, but I found this 1970s-set, Terrence Howard-Bernie Mac-starring story of inner city kids excelling in the pool emotional and entertaining.
Field of Dreams (1989) - This Kevin Costner magical realism baseball classic is often goofy and imminently tease-worthy and yet…It also works. Maybe it's no surprise that someone who loves cheesy Christmas movies as much as I do would have a soft spot for Field of Dreams.
42 (2013) - Chadwick Boseman is absolutely fantastic as legend Jackie Robinson. One of those movies that's ostensibly about baseball, but is really about so much more, except not in a pretentious way.
Race (2016) - Before Jason Sudeikis was Ted Lasso, he was famed track coach Larry Synder in this Jesse Owens biopic that is far from perfect, but still important. Plus, I honestly don't think Stephan James got enough credit for his relatively nuanced portrayal of Owens.
Goon (2011) - This overlooked gem starring Sean William Scott as a semi-pro hockey player whose main skill is his ability to take, and dole out, a beating, is surprisingly great.
Real Steel (2011) - This is a robot-boxing movie starring Hugh Jackman that is basically Rocky meets Over the Top—and yet it's actually really good. Yeah, I was surprised, too.
Forget Paris (1995) - OK, so maybe Billy Crystal playing an NBA referee doesn't really make this a sports movie, but it does begin and end (spoiler alert) at real NBA games, and I will die on the hill that this rom-com co-starring Debra Winger is wildly under-rated.
Bend it like Beckham (2002) - This girl-power sports movie has some highly questionable romantic dynamics (the coach is their love interest???) but this Parminder Nagra-Keira Knightley movie is also a heckuva sports movie and an inspiring immigrant story.
Bonus Pick: The Apple TV+ series Ted Lasso is one of the best things I watched in 2020, and I'm sure of that, because I watched it twice since, just to be sure. Jason Sudekis is absolutely perfect as an American college football coach taking over a UK Premier League team. This sweet show with a heart of gold is smart, funny, and absolutely impossible not to love—even for a cynic such as myself.
More Sports Movies Worth Watching
For someone not very into sports, I am, apparently, into watching movies about sports, so while not a comprehensive listing of the entire, vast genre, here are a few more suggestions I personally think are worth watching.
The Miracle Season (2018) - This movie about high school volleyball champs whose star player dies suddenly stars Helen Hunt and is a lot better than you'd think based on its tiny budget and, honestly, fairly small story. Just missed making my Top 25.
The Way Back (2020) - This Ben Affleck as a drunken high school basketball coach movie is a lot better than expected. Released just as the pandemic kicked into high gear, it was overlooked last year, but worth seeking out.
Fighting with My Family (2019) - Does it count if it's a show, not a sport? Either way (but that's why this isn't in my Top 25), this stealth Christmas movie/love letter to the WWE is a lot better than it ever needed to be thanks to some really great performances from Florence Pugh, Lena Headey and directer Stephen Merchant. Even The Rock reins it in.
Warrior (2011) - You couldn't pay me to watch an actual UFC bout, but this Tom Hardy story of (literally) battling brothers is incredibly compelling and well done.
Win Win (2011) - This movie isn't really enough about wrestling, even though its ostensibly centered around the sport, to make it into my Top 25, but it's still really good, and Amy Ryan gives an outstanding performance.
Fever Pitch (2005) - Drew Barrymore and Jimmy Fallon star in this remake of a UK film whose ending they had to shift when the Red Sox unexpectedly won the World Series.
Fever Pitch (1997) - This Colin Firth-starring, Arsenal-centered original is much smaller, more realistic and arguably better than the big budget Barrymore-Fallon redux.
We are Marshall (2006) - A real-life sports tragedy made into a sports-movie tearjerker starring Matthew McConaughy. And my tears were very much jerked by the end.
Coach Carter (2005) - Samuel L Jackson plays real-life basketball coach Ken Carter and, because it's a Disney movie, doesn't use the F-word even once. Now that's a feat worthy of its own sports movie.
Invincible (2006) - Yes, it's Mark Wahlberg, and another based-on-a-true-story, Disney sports movie that hits all the cliches, but dang it, that works on me. It just does.
Glory Road (2006) - If you're sensing a theme with me and Disney sports movies…Well, you're not wrong. This look at the first all-Black starting lineup at the 1966 NCAA Final Four does, unfortunately, center white coach Don Haskins, played by Josh Lucas (though I always mis-remember it as Josh Charles), making the important story it tells less than what it should be, but it still mostly works.
Million Dollar Arm (2014) - Admittedly one of the lesser Disney sports movie entries, and another that centers a white guy in a film mostly about people of color (not a great look), this Jon Hamm movie about a scout seeking an Indian cricket star who can make it in the Major Leagues still mostly worked for me.
The Mighty Ducks (1992) - One of the few movies on this list aimed directly at kids, this beloved peewee hockey saga actually is cute, and mostly does hold up.
Cool Runnings (1993) - Kind of shocked this movie that is part White Savior-movie and part-wacky kids movie essentially making fun of a real group of athletes of color came out in 1993 and not 1973, but the earnest charm of John Candy and a general Disney gloss keep this from being totally unwatchable and mostly just mildly, rather than extremely, offensive. Not really recommending, but feels like it belongs on an Olympic movie list.
Nadia (1984) - This made-for-TV, mostly true biopic, starring Talia Balsam as Nadia Comaneci, was a Disney Channel staple in that network’s early days.
Munich (2005) - It's a movie with the Olympics very much at its heart—namely the 1972 Israeli athlete hostage tragedy—that isn't really about the Olympics at all, but this Steven Spielberg-directed movie about national revenge is compelling, if problematic if you think about it for too long.
American Anthem (1986) - Is this Mitch Gaylord-Mrs. Wayne Gretzky (a.k.a Janet Jones) starring movie good, realistic and/or well-written? No, no and none of the above. But did I still watch it 8,000 times as a kid on HBO? Yes. Yes, I did.
Men with Brooms (2002) - Once, on a business trip to Canada, my husband was stuck in a hotel that only got three channels, and one of them always seemed to be showing curling, which actually got him weirdly into this obscure sport. This movie wasn't quite as fun as I hoped, but it's still a mostly charming, if slight, Canadian classic.
Unbroken (2014) - The harrowing and incredible real-life story of Louis Zamperini deserved better than this Angelina Jolie-directed movie delivered, but it's still a serviceable version of a worthy tale.
Chariots of Fire (1981) - I remember being bored out of my mind by this movie trying to watch this movie on cable as a kid, but no denying that, if nothing else, the score is iconic and indelibly linked to sports-movie magic.
Without Limits (1998) - Jared Leto’s Prefontaine beat this one to the theaters, but this Billy Crudup-starring film is the better of the two movies about the life of running pioneer Steve Prefontaine. There’s also a 1995 documentary, Fire on the Track: The Steve Prefontaine Story.
Personal Best (1982) - Mariel Hemingway’s story of ambition at odds with love, is a sports and LGTBQ+ classic.
Olympic Dreams (2019) - The story of how this small, meandering movie was made during the 2018 Winter Games is, unfortunately, more interesting than the movie itself, but there is some charm in watching Nick Kroll as an Olympic dentist making his way through the real Village, while interacting with real athletes.
Foxcatcher (2015) - This excellently-acted story is more true crime than sports inspiration, but if you're seeking a look at the dark side of the Games—and don’t want to turn on a doc like Athlete A—this is very dark tale indeed.
Seabiscuit (2003) - Every great athlete deserves to have their story told.
Any Given Sunday (1999) - Oliver Stone and Al Pacino take on pro Football. 'Nuff said.
The Replacements (2000) - I mean, the movie isn't amazing, but Keanu Reeves is super charming and Gene Hackman is always worth a watch.
The Program (1993) - Another bit of a dark-side-of-football take, worth it if only for the fantastic cast: James Caan, Halle Berry, Omar Eps, Joey Lauren Adams.
Everbody’s All-American (1988) - Not a movie I particularly love, but this Dennis Quaid-Jessica Lange football story that spans decades has always stuck in my memory.
Bull Durham (1988) - Just let Kevin Costner play actual baseball already.
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A boy, a girl, and their symbiote...
@tangleweave {{xx}}
It’s quite alright that he laughs ~gently~ at her and not just because she loves the shy sound of it, that she feels she could wrap herself up inside of the sound and experience the same warm comfort as when he allows her to occasionally borrow one of his hoodies. There’s always a reluctance that comes with having to give it back even though she knows he needs it more than she ever will but that’s not really the point. There’s also the fact that she’d been trying to be funny after all and Eddie’s laugh held none of the nastiness she can sometimes hear in other people’s tones when they are trying to be mean right to her face as though she can’t understand what was going on around her. But in all the time she has known him, Eddie has never treated her so shabbily. He has been a gracious friend. Kind. Without the condescending feeling she gets sometimes in the social circles she haunts because she has to. Eddie is different in that he listens to her and to the things she never really says aloud. She doesn’t know exactly how he learned to do that, if it’s a skill he’s taken away from his past or if it’s a natural empathy baked into his very being.
It’s entirely possible that it’s an organic blend of both, something she’ll think about later. When there’s time to breathe and reflect, which she does a little too often. Takes their moments together and strings them together into a mental photo album where she can chart the progress they have made from just this side of naked hostility to genial silence, from avidly engaging each other onto the rooftop to trying to coax him into her home like some feral creature that he isn’t, because she’s worried about how cold it gets and if he’s eaten a good meal. Because she wants to know he’s safe, that he has someone looking out for him. He deserves that much.
And...now.
She isn’t really sure what now is.
She’d never really had the impression that Eddie saw her in this kind of light. None of his actions have ever reminded her of the kind of people who want to capture her like an exotic creature to be put on display until the newness wore off and they found that her meagre charms and her unwillingness to be exactly what they wanted did not hold much value to them. He does not see her as some cute childlike thing that needs protecting from the world and maybe especially from herself, either. She might not feel attraction the way most people do, but she’s absolutely sure that he’s never looked at her in the way that makes her feel like he’s devouring her with a single gaze. So perhaps she’s put it out of mind and got on with being friends, taking delight in just spending time with him, listening to the stories he has to offer, and living in those moments.
This isn’t exactly that, though, is it?
When she thinks of Eddie ~far more often than she has any right to~ she has a distinct mental image. There is a sadness that always seems to linger in the back of his eyes especially when he thinks no one is watching. Which would lead to him lowering his face and staring into his coffee and the way that his hands would wrap around the cup always felt like he was afraid to let go. Gives him the impression of searching though she’s never sure for what. Sometimes she swears he’s having some internal debate with himself that comes across as starts and falters of sound, that soft-spoken tone that sends shivers down her spine in the best of ways, but still never really becoming words. And in her own way, she knows what that’s like, having so much inside but no real way of expressing it.
Lately though, it’s becoming harder to see him that way. It starts with the way he makes her laugh. Something she hasn’t really done in a long time, and then follows up with thought-provoking questions, and not ones from his list which had been terribly fun. The way he offers to walk her home when he realises she’s afraid of the dark fits in as well, followed closely with the way he curls up protectively around her on the bus or cable-cars. Stupid touristy things he doesn’t seem to mind at all. The keen and sometimes biting observations that he makes of people and the world that compel a shift of perspective. Murmured against her ear, a private conversation that has the power to weaken her knees a little.
And more slowly, maybe, she begins to add...other things. How much she likes his smile when he offers it, and the fullness of his lips. How soft they look even when chapped. His eyes again, this time deep and soulful, how they darken in colour, in emotion. How it brings out the sprinkle of the palest freckles across his nose that like hers don’t show very often. She notices how steady, patient, and most importantly, how gentle his hands are. Eddie is, after all, a handsome man if a little rough around the edges. And maybe she really likes those too, a sharp contrast to her own softness. She wants to know what it would feel like to cut herself on them, and if he would kiss the wounds better.
Eddie is an orchid, slowly blooming into a beautiful person right before her eyes. A person she wants to nurture and cultivate. Except maybe those aren’t the right words.
Again, feelings she has no right to want. At what point do those kinds of nascent wishes become pushy? Seems like some kind of underlying motivation that has been so very carefully orchestrated so that she might take advantage of him? This is the critical part of relationships that are unfathomable to Beth, something everyone else seems to be aware of but that she missed out. Like there’s some kind of manual and it’s written in a foreign language that she doesn’t speak. And what good does it do to become aware of being increasingly attracted to Eddie...when he isn’t interested?
She’s never been able to say he’s been less than a perfect gentleman to her. That he doesn’t go out of his way to carefully broach subjects that might make her uncomfortable and then if there’s any hint of distress, to quickly course-correct. If she’s to act in kind, how does she go about asking if maybe he isn’t a little like her? What did her friend call it? A different kind of umbrella, so to speak. She’s never felt an appropriate time has come to try and figure that out in any serious fashion.
Except...
It’s quiet now. The wine still lingers on her tongue and soaks into the back of her mind, easing some of the tension right out of her, even if she’s watching him more intently than she ever has before. Wills him to maybe hear that unspoken question as he sits there, comfortable on the couch because the words escape her. He doesn’t recoil from the tap against his leg. Not that she can imagine he would really do that, but one never knows. And sometimes Eddie has odd reactions to general affection, at least from her and her inability to keep her hands entirely to herself.
And despite the myriad of problems she could catalogue, the subtle vocalisation is enough to have her pause precariously on the edge of the cliff they’re on. She can feel the churning of nerves deep in the pit of her stomach. Rogue butterfly wings pounding to be let out or smothered by any other feeling. By itself it should have no power over her except that it does. Makes her want to hear it again at a much closer distance, letting its echo wash over her. There’s such a power to that, one that gains as much as it gives.
She can feel it dance beneath her fingertips, the way it feels like he almost presses back into them though she knows he hasn’t moved at all. It’s the wild flutter of his pulse, the song in his blood. It would only take a little pressure to have it gush over her lips and she’s very aware of that. Which is why she doesn’t listen to every instinct screaming for her to do so. She doesn’t want to take from Eddie, but to share. That’s an important distinction, the only one that would ever feel right.
His ha comes out hot against her skin, strong. Tells her so much more about him than a hundred conversations, feels like witnessing the birth of islands and the death of mountains, all the life that comes between the two. And just as she’s on the verge of losing herself in the joy and terror of it all, he utters a single word that freezes her to the very marrow of her bones and her heart plunges somewhere down between her knees. Just like that…
Eyes widen as she feels the instant backlash of having made a mistake she can’t take back.
She wants to. She should. She should blame the wine and the proximity and the fact that she read into his query wrong, through no fault of his own. That it isn’t his fault in the least. Anything that might make him laugh again and find her silly and that will make him stay. But before she can get the seeds of her apology in fertile soil he continues on. For a moment she finds herself unable to experience anything that isn’t the exquisite ghost of his touch in return. Pressing hers closer as if for one brief moment they both share the same fear and wonderment. And she has no idea what to do about that.
He’s not pulling away.
If anything, he’s encouraging her.
At least that is what it sounds like.
And it all cascades again.
And she finds herself briefly leaning into that caress, the rough pad of a thumb just cresting the arch of her cheek bone. No satin could compete with the delicate nature, and if there’s one thing that Beth knows beyond any doubt it is that touch doesn’t lie. As long as she’s known Eddie, neither does he. Not to her, anyway. Maybe that makes this all a little more unforgivable, but she will deal with the guilt and the consequences come morning.
No one, even in her wildest fantasies which are very few and far between, more nameless want than anything else, has ever said something so simple but so full of meaning. Or in a way that eats her alive with newly sparked heat. Because the truth is, most people she knows never put her wishes at the forefront of anything, much less something so delicate in nature.
“I…”
She shifts. Rises up from the floor to pour herself over him, one slender thigh on either side of his hips, as best as the restraint of her skirt allows her to. Her other hand lifts to cup the other cheek, brushes across the soft stubble of his jaw and from slightly loftier a height, she finds herself looking him directly in the eye a moment, her voice drying up in her throat, forcing her to swallow. It’s her turn to search for something that lacks all definition, that can’t be given shape in words.
She’s forgotten how to breathe. Or maybe doesn’t need to at all, her gaze scouring every inch of his face before returning to his eyes. Because the question is still there. Does she want to do this? Yes. More than he can know. Does she know how? In the most basic of biological functions, also yes. Her lashes drift down to shutter green and gold from the world before she gets closer, and settles her lips to his.
She catches the lower tier of his lips between her own. There’s still the same heat and the same temptation in doing so, that has not diminished from her earlier exploration but the kiss is far more gentle. Softer. Sweeter. But with a gradation of intensity that mimicked the pounding of bird wings inside of her chest, against the cage of bone surrounding it. Mimicked below as her hips roll into and against his own but doesn’t offer her any more leverage.
#tangleweave#Kaiakahinalii|Eddie Brock#Between Here and There|Eddie and Beth#Testaments They Told|Spider-Verse#Lethal Protector|Venom Verse#Mission in the Rain|San Francisco#California Screaming
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