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#i grew up here til it all went up in flames except the notches in the door frame

vintagewhispers · 1 year

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i grew up here 'til it all went up in flames,

except the notches in the door frame.

#phoebe bridgers #music recommendation #music #spotify #lyrics

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loisinherlane · 9 months

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Kara Zor-El + 50

kara zor-el / garden song by phoebe bridgers

i grew up here 'til it all went up in flames except the notches in the door frame i don't know when you got taller see our reflections in the water

Earth is nothing like Krypton.

Perhaps it is. Perhaps, in the grand scheme of the universe, Earth is very like Krypton. Kara knows there are other planets, and she knows she could travel there and see for herself. If she left and traveled the universe, perhaps, then, Earth would feel like coming home to Krypton. But that would only be in comparison. Earth's blue sky and yellow sun are warm against her skin and bright against her eyes. Kara feels like she is standing somewhere far too real to look like this.

Kal--Clark--had shown her the remains of his ship buried in the Kents' field. That was all the memory he had of the place he'd been born. Kara's rocket had been destroyed when she'd entered the atmosphere. She had no shards to put together, just the memory of her burning planet and her parents shoving her inside the single prototype Uncle Jor-El had left.

The flames must have been hot, Kara imagines. The warm rays from the yellow sun do not compare. As she steps into the shade of the farmhouse porch, she stares at notches along the wooden door frame, symbols she cannot read, as the translator's written component was damaged in the crash.

"Would you like to come in? Ma made cookies," Kal--Clark--offers, stepping outside once again. Kara feels alien in her suit. She doesn't know what to call what Kal--Clark--wears, white and fastened together in the front around his torso, with a separate blue piece around his legs. Kal in her mind is a baby, with soft black curls and big blue eyes. Clark stands much taller than her, the final notch on the doorframe just below his head.

"I don't know what cookies are," Kara says. She doesn't go inside.

#megan writes #oops having emotions about kara and clark hours!

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cas-coding · 1 year

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phoebe bridgers is my favorite poet truthing

like???? can we talk about some of her lyrics??? they are BRUTAL

i grew up here til it all went up in flames // except the notches in the door frame

and it's gonna be just like my recurring dream // i'm at the movies // i don't remember what i'm seeing // the screen turns into a tidal wave // then it's a dorm room like a hedge maze

the doctor put her hands over my liver // she told me my resentment's getting smaller

i swear i'm not angry, that's just my face // a copycat killer with a chemical cut

but you know i'd stand on the corner // embarrassed with a picket sign // if it meant i could see you // when i die

i want to believe // that if i go outside, i'll see a tractor beam // coming to take me to where i'm from

sweating through the sheets // you're gonna drown in your sleep

one hand on the wheel, one in your mouth

so i will wait for the next time that you want me // like a dog with a bird at your door

you are sick, and you're married // and you might be dying // but you're holding me like water in your hands

driving out into the sun // let the ultraviolet cover me up

big bolts of lightning hanging low // over the coast, everyone's convinced // it's a government drone or an alien spaceship // either way, we're not alone

a haunted house with a picket fence // to float around and ghost my friends

and i got out and stared up at the starts // and as meteors dived and shot across the sky // i thought about your sad, shining eyes

i have this dream where i'm screaming underwater // while my friends are waving from the shore

and last night i blacked out in my car // and woke up in my childhood bed // wishing i was someone else, feeling sorry for myself // when i remembered someone's kid is dead

and for generations, they'll romance us, make us more // or much less than ever was before, the chelsea and the floor // make us stand before the masses like two speakers for the poor

anyway she should write a book

#phoebe bridgers #poetry #lyrics #phoebe bridgers punisher #phoebe bridgers stranger in the alps #i love phoebe bridgers #music

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alicornairport · 2 years

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So now that Amphibia's ended, I wanted to make these posts with my playlists for each character. Just cause I always wanted to do this and we all need something that isn't directly related to the finale :p (and by "all" I mean me)

so. very long post.

Anne

vylet pony - we worked so hard to leave and now all i want is to go back

This is an instrumental, but it starts off the playlist because it perfectly captures the feeling in its title---in a style that to me is 1000% Amphibia vibes (or Vylet's style, if you've heard the rest of her music :p )---and I think that feeling (and title) is perfect for Anne: as she leaves the valley with the Plantars, as she comes to earth in S3a, as she decides to cut off her toxic friendship with Sasha, and as she finally leaves Amphibia in The Hardest Thing. It just makes me feel so much...

Phoebe Bridgers - Garden Song

I mean...

I grew up here, 'til it all went up in flames except the notches in the door frame I don't know when you got taller

I mean...

And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up From my phone and see my life And it's gonna be just like my recurring dream

I don't know how, but I'm taller It must be something in the water Everything's growing in our garden You don't have to know that it's haunted

anyway.

Esperanza Spalding - Unconditional Love

Even just from the title and heartfelt melody, this song is completely Anne, but what made me put it in the playlist is the chorus:

We could change the whole story of love Same old play I’m getting tired of No more acting these predictable roles Just us living unconditional love

This, to me, encapsulates why Anne's Heart. She has hope for people. For her friends. She cares about them, not the material benefits of their friendship (Sasha protecting her, Marcy doing their homework, etc.). It's her plea to both of them; it's why they can grow their own lives and friend groups in the timeskip and still love each other more than anything---why they still get together for every birthday.

Esperanza Spalding - Really Very Small

Another instrumental; this is here based completely on vibes. It makes my heart ache with how beautiful it is and I feel like it communicates how Anne sees herself and what she can be and do (at least S1 Anne).

Adam Neely × Ben Levin - Truck

From their made-in-24-hours album, Beautiful And Tragic, Truck is technically about how empty the pursuit of profit is and how capitalism kills empathy (and other things you'd expect from two 30-something music teachers from Brooklyn), but apart from the fact that Anne's both brown and a biologist and therefore hates capitalism (source: me and every other non-white biologist and biology student I know), it's here mostly due to this:

Tipsy truck outline Through the dust we drive Now behind, that’s life People roam, people die...

Sour patch gas stop Filling up, getting lost Scary pump Lost some Still we ridе Still we run

It gives me S2a road trip vibes, creepy atmosphere and all, but I also see it as a metaphor for Anne's mindset leading up to True Colors, especially regarding Sasha---and her mindset at the end of that episode, with all the repressing she did about both Marcy's death and her betrayal: keep moving and then it's okay if you "lose some" (some battles, some friends, some trust). Just run.

Porter Robinson - Something Comforting

She needs a week-long hug, okay?

Also, I put this here while I was still in shock over True Colors, but already watching S3a, and seeing Anne beat herself up over trusting both Marcy and Sasha and then over not trusting them or feeling she wasn't there for them made me think of this:

'Cause getting made you want more And hoping made you hurt more Oh, there must be Something wrong with me [...] Someone tell me Something comforting

; ~ ;

Boy Harsher - Tower

Boy Harsher makes horrorcore synthwave and I love them. They also made this (which is horrorcore synthwave, and heart-squeezingly perfect for Reunion). It's in Sasha's playlist too, but it's in Anne's because of this:

And are you honest? And are you free? [...] And can I believe you? Do I even know how?

(which is like 50% of the lyrics, btw). I think it's mostly self-explanatory, especially with Anne's realization of how toxic their friendship was finally bubbling over in the duel.

Pom Pom Squad - Lux

You can take my peace Leave me rotting like the leaves But I won't ever let you say You cared about me

so.

I let myself get drunk on the idea That you loved mе 'Cause in here I'm suffocating But out thеre I feel so small What a wonder to be anything at all

uh.

When I hear your pretty words I should be listening to the sound Of my feet against the ground In the opposite direction

...how hard y'all cry after Reunion?

Billie Eilish - ilomilo

So, if any of y'all don't know (I didn't before I looked up this song to listen to when it came out), Ilomilo was a Windows Phone puzzle game about braving danger in a strange land to reunite with your friend.

The only way to lose is to stay apart.

Told you not to worry But maybe that's a lie Honey, what's your hurry? Won't you stay inside? Remember not to get too close to stars

Where did you go? I should know, but it's cold And I don't wanna be lonely So show me the way home I can't lose another life

I tried not to upset you Let you rescue me the day I met you I just wanted to protect you But now I'll never get to

King Princess - Make My Bed

Anne, in her room, after True Colors.

Eighteen years I've spent

Waiting for this

Now my mother's home

My sister sleeps

And I'm awake

Making my bed

And our hearts break

'Cause I got lost

I'm awake

Making my bed

I'm posting the lyrics here but you really need to listen to it.

Tasha - Would You Mind Please Pulling Me Close

This is my "nostalgic crying over a fictional character's memories" song for Anne. It also fits The Hardest Thing (pre-timeskip) way too well and I hate that.

Summers hardly feel like summer anymore I can't seem to lift myself up off the floor Please sing to me our old familiar tune Remind me what I've got left to come back to We've less and less and less and less to come back to I'll hold on tight to every last one of you

I'm fine today I'll be fine again I'm fine today I'll be fine again

It's not that I miss home I just miss not feeling so alone I know my aching shows Would you mind please pulling me close?

Pom Pom Squad - This Couldn't Happen

Anne's time in Amphibia is a series of parallels and recurring feelings. Twice betrayed, twice back home, twice forgiven... and well:

Again, this couldn't happen again Again, this couldn't happen again Again, this couldn't happen again

Billie Eilish - my future

But I, I'm in love (Love, love, love, love) With my future And you don't know her (Ooh) And I, I'm in love (Love, love) But not with anybody here I'll see you in a couple years

I'll be crying in the corner until you scroll down to the next one.

Childish Gambino - Stand Tall

A positive song‽ In this (unintentional) angst playlist‽

The Boonchuys make me happy and Anne's relationship with her parents is "unidentifiable squeaking noises from the back of my throat" sweet and I feel like this fits them so well...

I listened to what my father said:

Keep all your dreams, keep standing tall If you walk strong, you cannot fall There is a voice inside us all, so smile when you can... (when you can)

We may cry alone, I feel we know where all of this is headed But my mama said:

I can definitely imagine Bee and Oum giving Anne a collaborative speech that goes exactly like this. I have imagined it. I love them sm.

TV-MA - i want it to hurt

Despite the title, I think this song is super hopeful and it's exactly why Anne was the one person to ever use the gems for good. Why she's more of a fighter than anyone else, despite fighting being her last resort. It's compassion and self-love and the search for meaning

When my friends leave, when I have to let go, when this entire town is wiped off the map...

I want it to hurt. I want it to hurt bad. I want to hold on until I'm thrown off and everything ends

I want to hope again And I want it to hurt Because that means it meant something It means I am something pretty amazing to be something, at least…

It's also perfectly fitting for her conversation with the Calamity Deity (maybe because the lyrics come from another climactic conversation with a cat deity where a protagonist whose starting philosophy can be boiled down to "what's the point in trying"/"always take the easy out" says no to what said deity wants her to do).

half•alive - RUNAWAY (the orchestral version :p)

I swear I put this in the playlist before S3b. But. But. This is it. It's Anne's journey. It's her and what she learns and the entire point of the show and it's prolly the most hopeful and happiest song in the entire playlist but it's still the one that makes me cry the most.

From where we started and immaculate S1 Anne vibes:

I've been searching, nothing’s working I've been tripping, no one's perfect Chasing vision, just the surface Shirt’s on backwards, not on purpose

To changing and growing and becoming more completely a creature of the Heart:

Something's working, heart is turning Vision’s clearing, still I’m learning That what I am, what I am, what I am, what I am Is something more than I can plan

Go, tell me now I don't need to run away

I’ve been standing on a stage with just a mirror, forced to face who I've become Searching for a new escape, I scan the exits that embrace an easy out

To the realization:

I hold my life out in front of me, dreams of who I wanna be I'm seeing every empty page But I find that everything I am is everything I should be... and I don't need to run away

Who are you?

"I'm Anne Boonchuy."

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onlythebrave-91 · 9 months

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Garden Song

Garden Song opens the Mockingjay portion of my Hunger Games playlist. Across all three books, Katniss experiences a lot of really terrible nightmares but in Mockingjay, things get so much worse. Even in her waking hours, Katniss lives a nightmare: being separated from Peeta, knowing Snow is torturing him to punish her, finally getting him back and he's hijacked, Prim dying. Through most of the book it's like she is sleepwalking; going through the motions until she can complete her goal of killing Snow. Garden Song captures this feeling perfectly; the meshing of nightmare and reality.

A song where Phoebe sings about killing her Nazi neighbour, burying him in her garden, and watching roses bloom there is almost too on the nose.

Given love and time, beautiful things can grow out of terrifying memories and nightmares.

"Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

And when your skinhead neighbour goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard then

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

I grew up here til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

I don't know when you got taller

See our reflection in the water

Off a bridge at the Huntington

I hopped the fence when I was 17

Then I knew what I wanted"

----------

"Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller"

#garden song #playlist #hunger games #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #everlark #Spotify #phoebe bridgers

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butterknobsblogs · 2 years

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𝑮𝑨𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮 (𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

THIS IS PART ONE OF A MULTI PART FIC

‘Garden Song’ will also be available on AO3 here

Synopsis: The year is 1991 and Steve Harrington is getting on with his life- a much quieter life since he finished helping save the world. Little does he know that Eddie Munson is about to come back into his life with the force of a human tornado, years after their last unresolved encounter, and under some of the worst circumstances imaginable.

Warnings: Throw the canon out the window, literally pretend vol 2 didn’t happen, canon-typical violence, sexual references, drug use, a car crash resulting in major character injury, this part isn’t explicit but further parts very much will be, Eddie has one leg lol, angst and major mutual pining, slow-burn

General content: named after the Phoebe Bridgers song bc I saw a Steddie edit to it that destroyed me, Eddie and Steve definitely have some kind of unresolved tension in this, Eddie being lowkey bad at reading social cues, Robin is featured a fair bit in this part, Eddie and Steve are great pseudo parents, lowkey a slow ish start but I promise it picks up in the next party sorry!! This is quite long and not 110% proof read so forgive me pls lol

If you enjoy this pls interact <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Someday I’m gonna live in your house

up on the hill

And when your skinhead neighbour goes missing

I’ll plant a garden in the yard then

They’re gluing roses on a flatbed,

You should see it, I mean thousands,

I grew up here til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the doorframe

|Phoebe Bridgers- Garden Song|

Steve Harrington was always prepared for the worst case scenario.

Always.

Which is why when Robin Buckley called the landline phone of his small rental apartment on a Tuesday afternoon in mid June, he was relatively unphased by the state she was in on the other end of the line.

“It’s Dustin,” he managed to make out through the illegible sobbing mess she’d become, the words like a swift kick to the pit of his stomach.

“What- what d’you mean? What about him?” Though the gravity of the situation was apparent by Robin’s inability to even catch a breath through the noises she was making, there was a jovial undertone to Steve’s words that stripped them bare of the worry he’d been struck by. “Robin what’s happened?” He could hear a female voice in the background of Robin’s end of the call, trying to coach her through her breathing which was now coming ragged through great, heaving sobs. Steve was fairly certain he could hear her fighting the need to blow her nose.

“There was-” a gulp of air in, “God Steve. They cut him out-” a shuddering exhale, “Out of the car but they don’t know if- and he’s, he’s in surgery and- but, you he put you down he wanted you called if anything happened to him Steve”.

While Robin spoke, Steve had woven himself and the phone as far away from the wall as its tether would allow him, hooking the receiver under his jaw and against his shoulder while he patted himself down in search of his car keys. He’d spent the majority of his morning on the hunt for supplies for his first teacher’s assistant gig due to start in a week- life skills, a local high school, nothing overly fancy like his parents would have expected of him- and he was dressed simply in worn light wash denim jeans with a grey and green polo shirt tucked in. He’d cut his hair since growing up, though he wasn’t entirely sure when the growing up had occurred, just that it meant his hair was now slightly tamer than it had been in his late teens and smelled faintly of the much too expensive gel that inhabited his top drawer. A few days worth of a 5 o’clock shadow darkened the angle of his jaw, the swoop of his upper lip.

“Okay Robin- Robin,” Steve swung his keys around a finger by the loop they hung off, trying hard to make himself heard over his friend’s understandable hysteria. “Robin, I'm leaving to drive down now. You got my mobile number if anything changes while I’m in the car yeah? Yeah- okay”.

And so Steve Harrington, prepared for anything, began the 4 hour drive back to his hometown in Indiana with nothing but his shitty Nokia, a tiny collection of underground albums and the half full bottle of Jack Daniels that lived in his back seat for company.

/-/

Nancy had been the first to move away from Hawkins after everything was finally done. Followed swiftly by Jonathan, and then, one by one as they got accepted to college or made other paths for themselves, the kids. Max had been the last of them to fly the coop, but it had taken her longer to figure out the logistics of leaving for herself, switching the locations of numerous kinds of physical and occupational therapy she endured for years. Eventually Robin had gone to college in New York, choosing to pursue arts. “Meet lots of other boobie loving lesbians like yourself doing that” Steve had joked, much to her behest. Hopper and Joyce hadn’t moved far, just to a larger house with land that ran the border between Hawkins and the next town over; a fixer upper Joyce had called it when they’d brought a lonely Steve over to show him.

And then it had just been Steve, because Eddie…

The last time Steve had seen Eddie Munson, it had been 1988. All the Chrissy Cunningham shit hadn’t blown over as smoothly as the government had been hoping, but Eddie had fought hard to stay in Hawkins when they’d been forcing his hand to try and get him and his uncle to relocate under new names. Steve was under no illusion that things had been looking up for Eddie, still branded a killer by much of the town despite being proven innocent, but he hadn’t wanted to leave the kids.

Until one day, late October, Eddie had appeared on the doorstep of Steve’s parents’ house- a monolith up on a hill, much too big and eerily quiet- Sabbath shirt and roughed up black jeans doing little to protect him from the bitey Fall chill, and had told Steve he was leaving. Just like that. Their goodbye had been bristling and brief, to say the least. Neither had kept in touch.

Finally, Steve had pried himself out of the clutches of Hawkins Indiana in ‘89, cutting all contact with his parents and relocating to Michigan where he’d been convinced by Robin to pursue the qualifications to become a teacher’s aid. “And who knows then? Maybe you’ll become a history teacher or a basketball coach- the possibilities are endless Stevie!” She’d spun to him over dinner one night. In the end leaving Hawkins had been like ripping off a bandaid. Momentary stinging, and then, nothing but a phantom itch every now and then to remind you that once upon a time it was there, a part of you. He called Jim Hopper once or twice every other week to check in, and that was as much as he had to do with the town where he’d become a man these days.

Now Steve sat in the front seat of his car, hunched over the wheel in a way that had his back crying out in protest, the Hawkins district hospital looming large in front of him. Robin hadn’t called once on his way down- or if she had she’d been calling the wrong fucking number- and he wasn’t entirely sure whether to take that as a good or bad omen.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure he believed in omens really. Omens, or God, or fate, or luck. Not anymore. Perhaps because he’d spent much of his time in Hawkins misinterpreting them. A “good” omen had more often than not meant someone would end up dead, or close enough to it. Like Eddie-

“Oh thank Christ you’re here.”

The passenger side door opened and Steve jumped a little, knees bumping the underside of the steering wheel. It was dark outside now, and he flicked the interior light on so he could clearly see Robin sitting across from him. She’d dyed the ends of her short, light hair a vibrant shade of red on a whim (during a drunken phone call neither of them could really remember all that much of) and she smelled faintly of weed. Her eyes looked swollen and bloodshot from crying, and she sounded congested.

“He’s still in surgery but we don-”

“Robin what the fuck happened?” He pushed some of his brown hair back from his face.

“Dustin and I, we’re down visiting Joyce-”

“I know why you’re here Ro, I don’t- ugh? No, what happened with Dustin?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and waited for her response.

When Dustin had left to go to college (and what a boozy send off that had been) he’d been accepted into Columbia. It was just his luck that Robin was in her second year by that point, her apartment in prime location and on the search for a flatmate. Hence why the pair had been visiting Hop and Joyce in Hawkins together and Robin had been able to make the call.

“He was on his way to his mom’s and there was a drunk driver in a fuckin Honda- he’s dead so good riddance, but Dustin’s seen better days”

“Yeah no shit”.

Steve rubbed his hands up and down his face in disbelief, not quite feeling real as he sat there trying to process what his best friend had told him. It felt, overwhelmingly so, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop somehow.

In silence, they sat for a long time. Robin took Steve’s hand in hers, leant across to his seat and rested her head against the rough shoulder of his polo, placed their joined hands on her chest. Steve snaked his free hand up to her head, looping his fingers softly through the back of her hair to try and bring some semblance of comfort to her day. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there for- a lifetime, an eternity- holding each other in the quiet without moving, but when they finally broke apart and stepped out of the car both their bodies were stiff.

Too fuckin old for this shit, Steve thought to himself, though 24 was not old.

Robin led him through the winding, sterile corridors of the hospital hand in hand, both of them husks of the people they’d been that morning before everything had happened.

Steve was vaguely aware of a niggling, scratching thought at the back of his mind- a memory more than anything. Himself, battered and bandaged, confined to a small section of this same hospital, keeping watch of Max Mayfield’s lifeless body like a dog standing guard, day in and day out. Jim Hopper coming to sit with him, telling him the feds and the government were handling everything with as little grace as they’d all expected, explaining the process to him thoroughly like a father might his own son. The way he would sneak into the small, too cold room they’d shoved Eddie in every waking moment he wasn’t with Max, huddling over his hospital bed and often falling asleep with his head resting against the foot of the hard mattress. Had keeping them all alive really been enough in the end? When it had been his job to keep them all safe. He still couldn’t answer that question.

He found that the feeling of waiting at a hospital hadn’t changed all that much in five years. Just that now, Robin was with him and he was not as afraid as he’d been back then. The plastic chairs were still just as unforgiving on his body though.

Together, Steve and Robin, prepared for everything and nothing always, sat stoic wrapped around each other into the early hours of the next morning, until a doctor came and told them it would be “hours yet at least” before Dustin was out of surgery- if he made it out of surgery- and to go to wherever they were staying and get some rest until a call came through. And for all the times they’d been drunk together since reaching adulthood, they both thought on the winding car trip to the Hopper-Byers residence that there had never been and never would be a time where they were less lucid than now.

/-/

“Oh no Mrs Byers, I’m good thank you”

Slowly, Steve rolled back into the river of consciousness, the living room couch almost swallowing him whole in his attempt to sit up.

“You can call me Joyce, you know? I don’t bite” Joyce was bustling about in the next room- the kitchen- the warm smells of fresh brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafting through to spark Steve’s senses awake.

“Hmm, reckon I’ll still call ya Mrs Byers though”.

Steve knew that voice. Male and light, never without an antagonistic edge to it. He frowned as he swung his bare feet over the couch edge and stood, a headache pounding violently behind his eyes.

Suddenly laughter erupted from the kitchen, Robin’s husky giggle and Joyce’s full belly laugh- along with the soft, deep chuckling of someone else, getting closer to Steve as he stretched out his arms behind his body and-

“Oh. You’re up.”

Where Steve had changed his appearance to feel more grown up, Eddie Munson had metamorphosed into a 25 year old version of the freshly post-teen man he’d been the last time the world had almost ended in ‘86. The unruly mop of his shaggy hair had remained stagnant, however in the light of the living room it looked a shade or two darker than Steve could recall it being- like seeing someone for the first time in decades and realising the picture you’d painted of them had been wrong all along. Oddly, he found, it stung.

“Coffee?” Eddie’s eyes had always reminded Steve of those of a deer, wide and the kind of dark that made him feel like they might swallow him whole any second. As they held each other’s gaze- Eddie just over the living room threshold, and Steve right by the couch- Steve found they had the same effect on him even now.

“When did you get in?” A small look of defeat played across Eddie’s soft features as Steve pushed straight past him, striding barefoot into the kitchen and ignoring the steaming mug held out in those long, ringed fingers like an olive branch.

“About 4. Hop picked me up. Still in bed now ‘cause of it,” Eddie offered by way of response.

“It was the both of you,” Robin said, staring straight down into her plate of maple doused bacon and golden brown French toast as though it might hold the power to remove all the tension that had cropped up from the room, “Dustin wanted the both of you called, if anything ever happened to him, I forgot to mention yesterday- you know how he always had that joke? You guys were like mom and dad?” She huffed a small laugh, though she didn’t really find any of it amusing.

“More like mom and dad in the middle of a bitter divorce settlement- fuck me” Eddie mumbled to himself more than anyone else as he set Steve’s cup down on the bench in front of him a little too loud and moved a little haphazardly toward the refrigerator.

“Anyway,” Robin always knew how to fill an awkward silence by talking, “The hospital called this morning, Dustin’s surgery went fine but he’s not doing great yet. Reckon he’ll be in for a long haul recovery”

“Not surprising,” Eddie spoke around a mouthful of food as he bumped the fridge shut behind him with his ass.

“And where exactly are you these days Eddie?” It was as if Steve was watching himself speak to Eddie from outside his body, screaming no no no don’t do this shit to no avail as he ploughed on, “Because I don’t recall having heard much from you since you left Hawkins”.

Robin had her head in her hands at the kitchen bench, and Joyce had long since taken her leave and fled presumably to lay back down with Hopper in their room on the other side of the house. It was a cozy dwelling, despite its large size- the first homey house Steve had stepped inside that was bigger than a three bedroom. When he and Robin had arrived last night, bleary eyed, Hop had given them a brief tour, showing off the rooms they’d decorated tailored to each of their ‘kids’. The dedication and love that permeated every surface of the home bore deep into the marrow of Steve’s bones, a reminder that he may have found comfort for himself amongst these people, but he would never erase how unwanted he’d been by his own parents.

“Well Steve,” Eddie’s voice held that same antagonistic edge it always had, “I’ve been writing a lot these days and last night I flew in from LAX so, without further ado I’m gonna take a fuckin’ shower”. He wove out of the kitchen and down the hall to the right, booted footsteps heavy and loud as he went, slightly irregular as they receded. Steve downed his coffee in six quick, large mouthfuls, ignoring the way it burnt his throat on the way down.

Somehow he’d thought seeing Eddie again would be easier. Perhaps it was because he’d never thought it would happen- though he supposed that was ridiculous thinking. Inevitably the kids would get married, start families. There would be birthdays to attend, weddings, funerals- they were fated to cross paths in a bizarre do-se-do this way for the rest of their lives. You cannot delay the inevitable.

Over the years Steve had come to terms with his sexuality like he was unpacking a box of old clothing. Trying pieces of it on one at a time until he’d worked the whole ensemble out together. Robin had been there, of course, to help and to console, and to spend far far too many nights drunk and rambling with, and she’d been the one to ultimately introduce him to the label of bisexuality. Steve had never, however, come to terms with the unresolved attraction he’d had in those last few years in Hawkins for Eddie. He’d told Robin of it only once, which he had little to memory of doing thanks to three quarters of a bottle of tequila and a sizable amount of cocaine someone from the Columbia arts department had gifted him for his 23rd birthday. He still had the Polaroid evidence that the night had ever occurred stuck to his fridge door back home.

“I don’t know what’s wrong between the two of you, but either promptly rectify it, or shove it literally so far up your ass that you can forget about it long enough to actually be there for Dustin when he wakes up, because I’m certain he did not leave strict instructions to call you both only for you to be bickering like this the whole time” Robin, still dressed in last night’s clothing, pushed back from her spot at the bench as she spoke, hands flailing expressively in her annoyance. “Also, I’m seeing Vickie today, so it’ll be up to you two to man the fort at the hospital Steve.” She stormed away down the hall, Converse squeaking on the floorboards.

Steve could count on one hand the amount of times Robin had been mad at him. The time he’d left her stranded at the Family Video Store because he’d forgotten to pick her up for four and a half hours after her shift. The time he’d almost broken her leg in the Upside Down. Potentially the time they’d been stuck in the Russian elevator but he was yet to confirm that with her.

Still bristling, Steve poured himself a second cup of coffee, then a third, and added another notch to the tally of how many times Robin had been mad at him in his lifetime.

/-/

The people of Hawkins, Indiana still looked at Eddie Munson like the town pariah. Chrissy Cunningham’s killer. No matter that the government and Hopper had tried their damned hardest to make all that go away as smoothly as possible- it turned out it was actually a lot harder than anyone had apparently anticipated to make years of predetermined judgement fuelled hatred disappear, regardless of someone’s innocence- people still hated him. Eddie hadn’t really been too surprised at the lingering distaste. He had, however, been surprised when Steve Harrington had intentionally attempted to rile him up over breakfast that morning.

Surprised may be the wrong word, all things considered. When Eddie had left Hawkins he knew he’d been the last in a long line of people Steve had cared for who’d simply up and left him. Knew his parents never called when they weren’t home, and were rarely home as it was. Avoided him like a pathogen when they were. Knew that though the kids had all gone off to college, to have the lives they’d all fought to allow them to have, that their absence remained a festering wound in Steve’s life, like a parent left iced out. And yet he had still left all the same. Standing on that doorstep, a chill biting into his body and his right leg fucking aching from the effort of walking all the way there, Eddie had still told Steve he’d be gone from Hawkins two days later. There had been no trace of the man he’d gotten to know so intimately at the end of the world when he’d searched Steve’s face for a response.

Eddie had kept in touch with all the kids, all the adults too. Dustin and El- surprisingly- spoke to him most frequently, Dustin emailing constantly and texting and calling, organising a small handful of DnD campaigns over the years that the kids, all long since adults now, had all attended. The others would call every now and then, but what he loved most was when they all saw him in an interview or saw his work in a store and called him just to extend their fondness.

It had been six months after leaving Hawkins that Corroded Coffin had made their break into the underground music scene, the other members choosing to follow Eddie out of their hometown when he’d pitched his musical scheme to them drunkenly one night in Jeff’s garage, and what a glorious break it had been. By the time Robin was calling Eddie, hysterical, to fly down to be there for Dustin after his accident, he and the guys were working on their second full studio album and had signed on with a major recording company. He’d put it all on hold the second he’d picked up Robin’s call.

“How’s the leg?” Steve was driving them to the hospital, what Eddie thought might have been his fifth cup of coffee of the morning wedged haphazardly into his dashboard cup holder. The younger man hadn’t even showered before they’d made their way to the car together that morning, and he didn’t appear to have any spare clothes on him- just a half empty bottle of Jack, Eddie had observed in his peripherals as he’d climbed awkwardly into the car.

“Hm?”

“Your leg,” Steve mumbled, “How is it these days?”

“Still gone,” Eddie found himself answering jovially, though his ring clad fingers ghosted softly over the spot under his jeans where flesh met metal, just above where the ball of his knee should’ve been. Once was. “Apparently they don’t grow back, so”

“It doesn’t seem to, yknow… hurt you as much anymore”.

When the demobats had literally torn off the lower segment of Eddie’s leg he’d almost bled to death. Obviously. He still had vague recollections of looking up at Dustin’s face above him as they both cried- the boy hysterically, begging whoever else had been there for help, Eddie softly and quietly as he accepted his fate- that drove him from sleep sometimes. No one had ever described it to him, but the small flashes of memory were enough. Dustin with his hands near black from the amount of Eddie’s blood that coated them, the otherworldly chill that had seeped into his bones as darkness lay under him, arms open and waiting to pull him under. The scream that had tore through him as the others had lifted his body up roughly, hands all over him keeping his insides inside of him and clamping down hard on what was left of his right leg. “Can’t feel my foot” he could remember slurring “s’it gone?”. In the end it had been Robin who’d looked at him, unflinchingly calm and said, “Yeah Ed, it’s gone”.

As it turns out, hospital staff are less likely to suture off your fucked up leg stump neatly when they think you’re a cheerleader killer. Eddie had learnt this the hard way upon waking up. It had taken months for the mangled, raw end of his lower thigh to heal enough that Eddie no longer woke multiple times a night, sweat soaked and vomiting from the pain that burnt through his bones and flesh. The government had paid for and sourced him a brilliant transfemoral prosthetic, the black metallic contraption taking him years to be able to use comfortably thanks to the botched repair job that had been pulled on his body. He still fumbled walking on it even now.

“Yeah it doesn’t,” Eddie confirmed for Steve as they pulled into the hospital parking lot, “Doesn’t hurt so much anymore”.

Hospitals made Eddie feel sick.

“Well let’s hope Dusty Bun is still all in one piece hey? One Party cyborg’s enough” Steve exited the car, cup of coffee in hand, and shut the door a little too hard behind himself. Just like Eddie had placed his cup down a little too aggressively that same morning. Vaguely, Eddie had the sense that he’d been called the Party Cyborg in the same tone people used to call him the freak, stepping out of the car and adjusting his worn leather jacket and well loved Iron Maiden shirt in an attempt to appear neater. It didn’t work, and oddly, what Steve had said stung like scraping the heels of your palms against pavement.

The staff overseeing Dustin’s care gave the two men the basic rundown of what to expect before they were allowed through to see the kid. Completely shattered femur, removed his spleen during surgery last night, extensive but now controlled internal bleeding, minor facial injuries, broken wrist, still waiting for the anaesthesia to wear off, please don’t be alarmed by his appearance- he’s not out of the woods yet but he’s certainly better than when we received him yesterday. It hit Steve worst when they entered the room, left him doubled over in the far corner with his hands braced against his knees, Eddie could see it written all over his face. How did they all almost die only to end up back here? How the fuck was that fair?

“Fuck man,” Steve breathed, straightening and stepping toward Dustin’s bedside, “fuck!”

The kid’s appearance hadn’t changed much since he’d been a teenager, though the throes of puberty had left him looking almost mannish in the same way they did to everyone when they were fresh out of teen hood. He’d been stripped of his clothes, his bottom half covered by a sheet and the rest of him ensnared in the labyrinth of wires and tubing that exited and entered various parts of his body. Butterfly bandages held together a split on his lower lip and another through his eyebrow, sutures woven through a puffy, angry looking slash just below his hairline. A steady and sure beeping from the monitors at the bedside was the only assurance that Dustin Henderson was still alive.

“Fuckin’ Honda drivers man,” Eddie said and instantly knew he shouldn’t have. Steve glanced over at him wide eyed and open mouthed, exasperated.

“Shut up Munson”.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when everything with him and Steve had gone so terribly wrong. Not that there had ever truly been anything established about the two of them. For a long time, while the world was ending, they really had cared for the kids like mom and dad, they’d shared clothes and weapons and shifted their sleep schedules to dance around each other’s, and they’d trimmed each other’s hair and shared cigarettes and joints by the fire a lot. They’d touched a lot too, casually, in a weird timid way at first that gained comfortability as it became more common, until it was a daily occurrence. The kids never spoke about it, though they were nosy little fuckers- still were even in their adulthood- and neither had Steve and Eddie. The latter would have been lying had he said he’d never felt anything for Steve Harrington, but then lying had been second nature to Eddie his whole life. Eddie leaving Hawkins had been the final act that unmoored them from their tether. He knew that much.

“I’m gonna go…grab us some chairs,” Eddie said finally, chewing on his fingernail as he spoke before spinning on his heel (the real one) and exiting the room. It was more surreal than anything he’d ever felt, being the one waiting by the hospital bed. Roles inverted from the last time they’d all been here. The feeling curdled sickeningly in the pit of his stomach.

It took Eddie longer than anticipated to find a pair of chairs, though being only a medium sized local district hospital, he supposed that wasn’t necessarily the most surprising thing. When he finally returned, limping a little with the extra weight of the chairs and his still choppy prosthetic skills, he stood by the door just watching through the little window for a moment. Watching Steve knelt at Dustin’s bedside, carefully grasping his cannulated hand in his own and speaking. Eddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he didn’t need to. Steve was the mom. Always had been.

When he finally dragged the chairs in with him, they set them up either side of Dustin’s body, taking a hand each- carefully, so carefully because although the kid wasn’t awake they were both all too aware of how much of a bitch the pain of having shit probing in and out of your hands was- and just sitting with him in silence. It was a heavy silence, and Eddie found himself hating it, but he wasn’t like Robin. He couldn’t fill a silence just by talking and have people not hate him for it. So in silence they remained, for so long Eddie thought it might bleed into his bones. All the bones he still had, that is.

There was nothing pleasant about being stuck in a too small hospital room with Steve Harrington, who everything had gone so totally wrong with in ways Eddie couldn’t even remember. Didn’t even understand. But together they endured it, for now at least. When Dustin finally woke up and they could all breathe easier though, Eddie was going to crack Steve open, spilling him wide onto the pretty floors of Joyce and Hopper’s house and find out what made him tick. What made him hate him so wholly these days.

For now though they waited, dutifully, like dogs, at Dustin Henderson’s beside in silence.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie munson fics #steve harrington #stranger things fic #eddie x steve #angst with a happy ending #multi part fic #fic writing #butterknobs writes🖤#steddie fic #steddie fix it fic #slow burn #lgbt ships #canon divergence #eddie stranger things

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thatsouthernstate · 7 months

Text

September 29, 2023

Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

And when your skinhead neighbor goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard then

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

I grew up here 'til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

I don't know when you got taller

See our reflection in the water

Off a bridge at the Huntington

I hopped the fence when I was seventeen

Then I knew what I wanted

And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up

From my phone and see my life

And it's gonna be just like my recurring dream

I'm at the movies, I don't remember what I'm seeing

The screen turns into a tidal wave

Then it's a dorm room, like a hedge maze

And when I find you

You touch my leg and I insist

But I wake up before we do it

I don't know how, but I'm taller

It must be something in the water

Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller

No, I'm not afraid of hard work

I get everything I want

I have everything I wanted

#today’s vibes #what a day what a day #I was like a drowned little mouse crossing rivers in the streets today #the video wasn’t even the worst of it #but this song is so beautiful #and it makes me feel happy even if this week has been really hard

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dreamertrilogys · 3 years

Text

ON BURNING HOUSES — 1. lois dodd / 2. becca stadtlander / 3. phoebe bridgers / 4. brian luong / 5. louis lanne / 6. troye sivan / 7. morten schelde / 8. richard bosman

[ID: 1: a painting of a house with smoke coming out the top and you can see fire from all of the windows / 2: a drawing of a house with fire coming out of the windows / 3: “I grew up here, 'til it all went up in flames / Except the notches in the door frame” / 4: a black and white drawing of a house alight with flames with someone standing in front of it / 5: a drawing of a small white house with huge amounts of fire coming through the chimney / 6: “I can't even look at you / Would you look at the space just next to your feet? / The wood is warping / The lines distorting / This house is on fire, woo! / Burning the tears right off my face / What the hell did we do? / Tell me we'll make it through” / 7: a red and white drawing of a house that vaguely has the appearance of being on fire / 8: a painting of two silhouettes standing in front a house that is on fire and collapsing /end ID]

#art #parallels #words #lois dodd #becca stadtlander #phoebe bridgers #brian luong #louis lanne #troye sivan #morten schelde #richard bosman #fire tag #house on fire #house tag #*mine #my parallels #w #long post #a

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punkbarbarian · 3 years

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[image id: a two-image digital black and white comic with lyrics from "garden song" by phoebe bridgers.

first image: two panels, one vertical and one horizonal, overlap each other. in the vertical panel there is a close-up of a doorframe with two lines in the sides. one line is labeled 'aelwyn' and the other is labeled 'adaine. the second panel is of a mansion with orange flames coming from the windows and from behind. the lyrics "I grew up here til it all went up in flames / except the notches in the doorframe" are written beside the panels.

second image: three panels, two horizonal and one vertical. the first horizonal panel is a drawing adaine abernant, a high elf. she has short curly hair and bangs and is wearing round glasses. she has freckles and dark circles under her eyes. she is wearing a fur-lined jacket over a t-shirt. she is standing in front of two trees. the second horizonal panel is a close-up drawing of half of aelwyn abernant's face. she is a high elf with long curly hair and freckles. there is mascara running down her face from her eyes. the background is light blue and the whole image is blurred like the surface of water. the vertical panel is another close-up of a doorframe, with six lines in it. from top to bottom, the lines are labeled 'ragh,' 'aelwyn,' 'adaine,' 'tracker,' 'kristen,' and 'fig.' the lyrics "I don't know when you got taller / see our reflection in the water" are written beside the panels. end id]

remember my post about how garden song was an aelwyn song? it's also an abernant sisters song <3

#my art #aelwyn abernant #adaine abernant #fantasy high #dimension 20 #talking #described #fantasy high fanart #dimension 20 fanart #ive been really into phoebe bridgers lately so here is this

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wilder-fangirl · 2 years

Text

Once the footage is out someone PLEASE PLEASE make an edit of the Peter Parker's + Garden song by Phoebe Bridgers

I would do it myself but every time I try making edits something goes wrong I just don't think my computer can handle the video editing software or something

I am literally willing to pay someone to make it if I can tell them all the beats I have in mind

I GREW UP HERE TIL IT ALL WENT UP IN FLAMES, EXCEPT THE NOTCHES IN THE DOORFRAME

I DON'T KNOW WHEN YOU GOT TALLER, SEE OUR REFLECTION IN THE WATER

I don't know how, but I'm taller

It must be something in the water

Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller

The song is literally about your older and younger selves meeting and all the horrors of your own life and somehow moving forward still and wanting the best for yourself then one day kinda living what younger you dreamed about

#spiderman no way home spoilers #no way home spoilers #Spiderman #no way home

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truckergrrrl · 3 years

Text

Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

And when your skinhead neighbor goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard, then

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

I grew up here, 'til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

#girlgaze #35mm photography #dreamy #film photography #35mm film #tumblr art community #analogue #artists on tumblr #tumblr art blogs #art #Nicole dollanganger #angelcore #dirtcore

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floraheart · 3 years

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FIVE SONGS

GARDEN SONG. when your skinhead neighbor goes missing // I'll plant a garden in the yard, then // They're gluing roses on a flatbed // You should see it, I mean thousands // i grew up here, 'til it all went up in flames // except the notches in the door frame

JUST LIKE HEAVEN. why are you so far away, she said // and won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you // that i’m in love with you? // you, soft and only // you, lost and lonely // you, strange as angels // dancing in the deepest ocean // twisting in the water // you’re just like a dream [ by the cure ]

WILD I AM. i always find it hard to ascertain // why it is i feel this way // when my whole life is in disarray // the future makes me feel alive // i’ve always known the romantic side // of not knowing where i’ll sleep at night // i can’t stand when my hands are tied // my bed the ground, my roof the sky [ by vocal few ]

WEST. time moves slow // when half your heart has yet to come home // every minute’s adding up // and leaving a mark on us // i can’t get you out of my mind // can’t get you out of my mind // i can’t get you out of my mind // i solemnly swear // i swear that i’ll never try [ by sleeping at last ]

AFTERLIFE. you and me - we got this // you and me - we’re beautiful, beautiful // we are, we are // we’re gonna be alright // we’ve got, we’ve got // we’ve always got the fight in us and // we are, we are // we’re gonna live tonight // like there’s no tomorrow // cause we’re the afterlife [ by ingrid michaelson ]

tagged by: @hercbled & @aegisheart tagging: @ofhonnleath, @dystcpiia (for whoever you’d like!), @resolutepath (for kiri!), and anyone else who’d like to do it!!

#format later #links to come later #i'm on my chromebook so it's hard to do anything #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ › i feel hope deep in my bones ; tomorrow will be beautiful.#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ooc �� dash games !

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