Come On, Come On, Darling

Summary: A late night out with friends, and an uncomfortably deep talk has Eddie thinking about you. He just hopes you're thinking about him the same way.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, drinking, Eddie being an absolute angel and a gentleman, reader does Eddie's make up (you're welcome), pet names ( I overuse "princess," sue me), the rest of the ST gang all being happy, season 4 never happened here, Wayne being oddly insightful and a good uncle, more plot than anything, but smut will happen in part 3, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Word Count: 4,039

A/N: I started this a while ago, hated it, took a break from it, came back and finished it — bon appetit. Bahaha! No, the break from it was much needed. I think I was tired when I said it was awful, because upon review it wasn't that bad. I love this one, you guys. I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous of the fictional couple that I created. I hope you guys like this one! Part 3 will have ze smut, so you have to be patient and polite as you wait for it hehe. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a singing telegram— really anything. Ok! I love you!

Kisses 💋

—K

Part I. Series Masterlist Part III

The sound of random tinkering and a distant radio at the end of Mack’s Auto Garage welcomed you with a familiar warmth. Cars and trucks littered the parking lot and garage, random parts and pieces that made absolutely no sense to you sprawled out over the work benches. Eddie had a morning shift today, much to his dismay, but when money calls— he answers. Parking next to his decrepit van, you fiddle with the strap of your bag as you meander through the concrete workspace looking for him. You hear him long before you see him.

“Where did I put it? Son of a—“

“Missing something, Munson?” You interrupted Eddie’s nearly frantic search of his locker, his head snapping up in surprise. His normally untamed hair was pulled back into a low bun (with a scrunchie that looks suspiciously like the one you misplaced two weeks ago) with his favorite bandana tied around his brow to keep the sweat off. The dark blue coveralls with his name etched in red thread on his left chest were unzipped at his waist, a plain white t-shirt adorning his chest, oil and dirt smeared into the fabric were he wiped his hands clean on his thighs. 

“Yeah, my freaking lighter. That thing must have finally grown legs and ran off or some shit,” he rambles and resumes to pat down the pockets of his leather jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“You left this in my car,” you slip the silver flip lighter from the back pocket of your black jeans and wiggle it between your thumb and index finger, “figured you’d need it sooner than later.”

“Oh, you’re a beautiful, gracious, and kind woman,” he groans dramatically with relief, happily taking the lighter from you. You chuckle and lean against the hood of the car at his bench, Eddie following suit. He pops a cigarette into his mouth and lights it swiftly, taking a long drag, his eyes shut as he holds it in at the top, and slowly blowing out a wispy cloud of smoke. 

“Jesus Christ, you have no idea how badly I needed that,” he grumbles before bringing it back to his lips, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh. Yeah, you, too, Sweets, thanks,” he teases with a coy smile. You playfully shove his shoulder, making him laugh around the cigarette. “We still on for drinks later with Steve and them?”

“7, right?” He hums an affirmative, “yeah, that sounds good,” you glance at the clock on the wall, “Shit, I gotta go, my shift starts soon.”

“Okay,” he nods, crushing out the partially spent cigarette in the ashtray on his bench as you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket. “Wear that cute top, the black one that hangs off your shoulders,” he calls out after you as you walk away.

“Why?” You chuckle and turn to look at him while you walk backwards, the move alone made Eddie think you were the coolest fucking chick that ever graced this floating space rock. 

“It’s pretty,” he shrugged casually as he slung the arms of his coveralls back on, but you noticed the soft dusting of color along his cheeks. 

“Fine, but only if you tuck your shirt into your pants,” you bargain and point at him from your spot at the mouth of the garage. He groans, making you laugh. 

“I’m going to look like a loser!” He whines, failing to hide his smile at your giggling. 

“That’s the point! I’ll see you then, Gomer,” you tease and finally get to your car, if you stayed any longer you’d definitely be late for your shift at the record shop. 

You heard his van pull into your driveway just as you were finishing the last bit of your eye makeup. You always went light with the mascara and eyeliner for the sake of being comfortable, and it made washing your face a lot easier at the end of the night. The sound of Eddie’s keys jingling was followed by his bright voice calling your name. When you came out of your room, you found him sitting on your counter, munching on a bag of chips. 

“Oo, look at you all prettied up,” he coos around a mouthful of Doritos. You feel your face heat up ever so slightly at his words, you did feel pretty. The knit, long sleeve black top that Eddie had requested clung to your shape deliciously, precisely the reason he loved it so much. The neckline was low enough to show off your collarbones and bits of your shoulder, and gave you the perfect opportunity to show off the pendant necklace that Eddie got for your graduation present years ago. Tight ripped black jeans matched Eddie’s own pair down to the black studded belt, except you swapped out your comfortable pair of converses for a chunky black boot. Eddie was positive: you were the coolest chick to ever live. 

“I was going to say the same thing about you, Munson,” you chuckle and take him in, he does a little twirl. He wore his classic black jeans and handcuff belt, a staple in Eddie’s uniform. A black AC/DC t shirt hugged his sturdy torso and was neatly tucked into his jeans, just like you asked. You gotta admit: he did not look like a loser. He never did. 

“Ya think so? I was worried that my jacket didn’t match my purse,” he jokes. 

“No, no, they do, don’t worry,” you soothe and try to hide your smile. Suddenly, you speak before your mind can catch up with what you’re saying. “Do you want some eyeliner?”

“What?” Eddie chuckles, licking the Dorito dust from his fingers. You swallow and decide, fuck it, you already asked.

“Do you want some eyeliner? I think it would… look nice,” you stutter out as smoothly as you can. He thinks it over for a brief second before he nods casually. 

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Eddie manages to sound calm, much to his surprise. His heart may have skipped a few beats at your small compliment. 

The next thing he knows you have him sat at your vanity, facing you as you stand in between his legs. One hand gently cups his jaw while the other wields a stick of your favorite black eyeliner. You try your best not to get lost in the feeling of his stubble scratching at your palm or the warmth of his hands on your outer thighs, and focus on drawing in the darkness around his eyes. Eddie sits as still as he can, the last thing he wants is to lose an eye. He trusts you completely, it’s his fidgeting that he doesn’t trust. 

“Ok, close your eyes for me,” you say softly, the closeness brought your voice to a hushed whisper. Eddie shut his eyes without a second thought, he listened to the steady inhale and exhale as you stood in front of him. Eddie was unfairly gorgeous, his sweeping eyelashes, the placid expression that soothed his face coupled with the calm trust that surrounded you both made your heart flutter and your knees buckle. Steeling your nerves, you carefully applied the makeup along his upper lashes. “Alright, open. Look up, please.”

Eddie stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to flinch as you brought the product under his lashes. He wished so badly to be able to watch you, you were so cute when you concentrated on things. Your eyebrows furrowed, drawn together in concentration, and your face set in an oddly serious expression. With one last smudge of eyeliner, you pulled back with a smile. 

“All done. What d’ya think?” You ask and put your makeup away as he turns to look in the mirror. 

“Not bad, not bad. What do you think?” He quirks an eyebrow. If you were honest, he was the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and that was without the makeup on. With the dark circles rimming his gorgeous brown eyes, he was deadly. But you couldn’t exactly say that. 

“I think you look super cool,” you say honestly and grab your purse. 

“Metal?” He stood up, following you out of your room.

“Very metal, but if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to be very late,” you chuckle and hand him his leather jacket and keys. Eddie nods and slips one his jacket with ease, the full ensemble complete, and, fuck, did he look hot. He locked the front door after you, skipping quickly ahead to open the passenger seat door for you. 

“M’lady,” he bows, grinning like an idiot when you curtsey back and hop in. 

It was going to be a fun night. 

And it was. 

Steve, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy were sat comfortably at the table when you and Eddie arrived. Jokes were told, laughs were shared, and drinks were poured. Lots and lots of drinks. By midnight, the whole table was on the heavier side of tipsy, if not drunk. Steve and Robin were neck deep in a debate on whether or not Michael Myers was human or not, with Jonathan acting as moderator while Nancy fought through the spins. At some point, you ended up in Eddie’s lap, your arm slung around his shoulders with his own circled around your waist while you both listened and weighed in on what you have dubbed “The Great Halloween Dispute of 1987.” 

Eddie had slipped his jacket off after his second beer, revealing his toned arms (all those shifts at the garage were paying off in more ways than one), the short sleeves of his t shirt rolled up ever so slightly. You toyed with a strand of Eddie’s hair like always and sipped on a glass of water, one that Eddie was quick to swipe from your hand. He took a good gulp without much thought and set it on the table. 

“Well, Princess, what do you think? Should we call it a night?” He slurs his words as he rubs the length of your outer thigh absentmindedly. 

“Yeeaah,” you drawl, your head was starting to spin even from the safety of Eddie’s lap. Looking down at him, you were struck again with the overwhelming feeling flooding your heart. Even in the low light of the seedy bar, he looks like the perfect man that God, or whoever is up there, made just for you. You bring one hand to rest on his forearm, your thumb stroking the bat tattoos you love gently. Eddie tightens his grip on you before giving you that million dollar smile, one that you can’t help but return with drunken ease. He pats your leg, signaling for you to stand, and you do, much to your objection (you were quite comfortable in his lap). 

“Alright, gang, as fun as it’s been, the missus and I gotta head out,” Eddie announces as you slip away to pay for your drinks before he can. A chorus of slurred but friendly goodbyes send Eddie on his way to the bar just as you finish forking over the money for both his and your drinks. “Noooo, you don’ pay for drinks,” he scolds as you put your wallet away, his face scrunched in a pout. 

“Yeah? Who said?” You playfully tease as he slides his leather coat over your shoulders, one glance outside and he knew that you’d be chilly on the way to the van. You subtly breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, the same one you got for his birthday 2 years ago.

“Pretty girls don’ pay for drinks, everyone knows that,” he casually answers, he was much bolder with about 4 glasses of liquid courage warming his blood. You laugh, not bothering to hide the bashfulness in your voice and he smiles at the sound, leading you out to the van at the far end of the parking lot. He saw the way you shivered and pulled the oversized jacket around you tighter. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he opens the back doors and quickly starts setting up the blankets he had stored in the back. You must have made a face because Eddie’s soon laughing and shaking his head. “M’not drivin’ you home drunk, Princess. Could get ya hurt, s’too dangerous. Now, com’on.”

Your heart does a summersault at his words, but that’s just who he was. Caring, sweet, understanding, reliable, trustworthy. That’s Eddie Munson. He sees the fondness in your smile again, his stomach erupting in butterflies. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit, this is where he would tell you how gorgeous you are and kiss you, if you’d let him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he hops out of the van and holds out his hand to help you inside. 

The old mattress he keeps tucked away in the back is draped in blankets, folded as neatly as a drunk Eddie could get them. You sit at the end of the makeshift bed, your legs hanging out the doors to take off your boots. Without a word, Eddie starts untying your laces, carefully undoing the knots, slipping the shoes off your feet and setting them neatly next to the mattress. 

“Thank you,” you meekly reply, the sweet gesture having stolen your voice.

“You’re welcome, Sweets,” he pats your leg, “scoot over.”

He hops in, shutting the doors behind him before double checking that all the doors are locked. You hide a yawn behind your hand as he settles down on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes unceremoniously. You slip off your belt and other jewelry, opting to stay in your jeans for the night. Eddie does the same, slinging his belt into the pile with his shoes before crawling under the questionably clean blanket. He sighs and settles in with a groan, his eyes shutting for only a moment before he’s watching you tuck your earrings into the pocket of his leather jacket. You turn around to find Eddie making grabby hands at you, smiling, you crawl in next to him, letting him pull you into his chest and tuck the blanket around you both snugly. The chill of the van made cuddling a necessity, even under the blanket you could feel the stagnant bite of cold of the coming winter. Letting out a content sigh, you relaxed into the comfortable silence, the world around you only slightly spinning now as sleep began to descend on you. Eddie stares up at the metal roof, his eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier as the moments tick by. 

“I like when you tuck your shirts in,” you sleepily confess, your voice was hushed as you whispered your little secret to your best friend. He can’t help but chuckle tiredly at your words, the sound more akin to a deep rumble as opposed to his normally bright laughter. 

“Yeah?” Is all he can think to say, his face burning even in the chilly van. 

“Yeah,” you shyly confirm, tracing the bats on his forearm once more, the action sends Eddie into a tizzy.

“Y’like when I look like a dweeb?” He jokes with a yawn, sleep fast approaching. 

“You never look like a dweeb,” you mumble just before you drift off, your fingers slowing to a stop on his skin, If he wasn’t tired, he would have teased you to hell and back about it, but all he can do it chuckle lowly in his chest and hold you a little tighter. Why do you have to be so cute?

“I like when we sleep like this,” he rested his cheek on the top of your head, letting one hand stroke your arm tenderly, the action only pushing you quicker towards sleep. He hears you hum in acknowledgement and agreement. 

“Me too, Eds.”  

There’s a few moments of silence before Eddie realizes you’re asleep.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Eddie whispers with a smile and kisses the crown of your head, the sound of your even breaths fill the van and lull him into his own peaceful slumber. 

Eddie wakes up to the sound of your soft snores and the growl of a stray truck chugging down the street. Your back is pressed to his front as you both lay on your sides, his arm under your head like a pillow and out stretched, his other arm was strung across your waist. The warmth of your body pressed against his had fought off the cold of the night exceptionally well, it drew him in for more, so he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The smell of your perfume mixing with the scent of his own cologne had Eddie groaning softly, this was the life. Nothing could bring him down, not even the soft thudding in his head or the dryness of his mouth. 

You stirred next to him, your eyes still shut as you reached out for Eddie’s hand on instinct. When your smaller hand found his, you immediately laced your fingers together. Eddie looked at where your hands were joined and gave a small incredulous scoff and smile, his arm around your midsection squeezed you into him hard enough to force the air out of you. 

“Why are you so damn cute? Huh? Who said you could be this fucking adorable?” He rambled on in a groggy whisper, his morning voice was just as glorious as you remember it being. You giggle as consciousness fills you. 

“It’s a curse, really. Doctors have been studying me for years, it’s a medical mystery,” you joke and carefully rub your eyes with your free hand. You were surprised to find that you felt well rested for having slept in the back of your best friend’s van after a night of drinking with no pillow, in a pair of tight jeans, and no fan. You peek over your shoulder to find Eddie’s puppy eyes already staring back at you. The smudges of eyeliner looked even better in the morning sunshine. You could only imagine how you look right now. “Wanna get breakfast?”

“God, yes,” he mumbles with a smile. He was starving, plus he wanted to pay you back for covering his drinks last night. Reluctantly, he peels his hand from yours to reach for his shoes and keys. You hum and stretch out a little, cracking your back before getting your shoes back on as well. You’re both quick to fold the blankets and get into your seats, the pits in your stomach rumbled and demanded to be satisfied. The drive to the nearest diner was thankfully short. 

Before long, you and Eddie find yourselves tucked into a booth with plates of hot food and even hotter coffee in front of you. The looks you receive from the other patrons did nothing but amuse you both. And what a sight you both were: strolling in at 9am reeking of the drink that Nancy accidentally spilled, last night’s makeup smeared across your eyes, bed hair, both dressed to the nines in black. Compared to the lovely elderly couple on their weekly Sunday morning date, you both looked like bats out of Hell. When you offered the old woman a polite smile, she was quick to return it, her husband was busy staring Eddie down, clearly not a fan of his tattoos or makeup. Soon, the plates were cleared and the cups were emptied, and you both meandered your way back to the van. 

“Alright, Sweetheart, back home, it is?” He asks as he backs out of the parking lot, you scroll through the radio stations, hoping to find something good on.

“Yes, please, I need to shower,” you groan, the longer you stayed in your makeup the more grimy you felt. A hot shower would solve all your problems. 

“Oo, no chance you’ll let me join, would you?” Eddie half jokes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes with a smile and shake your head. “Damn, next time, then.”

Quicker than he’d like, he parks in front of your trailer. You gather your things, double checking that you have everything before hopping out of the passenger side. With a quick goodbye, you’re bounding indoors, making a beeline for the shower. Eddie watches until you’re inside then makes his own way home. He’s surprised to find Wayne’s car parked in its spot in the yard. 

“You just getting in?” Wayne asks as soon as the door opens, Wayne sat at the kitchen table, eating whatever leftovers were in the fridge before heading to bed. Eddie sets his keys aside on the table and nods. “Out with that girl, again?” Eddie gives him a look as he sought out a glass of water, Wayne knew your name but he just liked giving Eddie a hard time, especially when he stays out all night. 

“Yeah, we had some drinks with some friends, it ran a little later than planned.”

“Did you and her…” Wayne trails off, tilting his head to finish his sentence. 

“Oh God,” Eddie sighs and hangs his head. Wayne would ask from time to time, and it never ceased to be awkward as balls. 

“I’m just askin’. If you are, I’d rather you be safe about i—“ he defends calmly. 

“I know how to be safe about—“ Eddie cuts himself off with another sigh, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I know how to be safe, but no. We did not… do things.”

“Ok,” Wayne nods, throwing his hands up in surrender to show that he dropped it. Eddie relaxes and finishes his water, happy to escape the awkward conversation. Or so he thought. “It’s obvious you like her, so I thought it would have happened by now.” 

Eddie sputters a few words, each sentence of denial dying on his tongue. Wayne gives him a look and Eddie just knows that denying it isn’t any good. He flops into the chair on the other side of the table, looking up to his uncle through his lashes. 

“How obvious is it?” Eddie asks softly. In that moment, Wayne sees the years fall away from Eddie and what’s left behind is what Wayne saw all those years ago: his kid nephew, lost and needing guidance. He smiles warmly, a rare sight, and scratches his head. 

“Well, it’s not super obvious,” Wayne grumbles gently, resting his forearms on the table, “but I’m sure some of your friends notice it too.”

Eddie curses under his breath, his face hot with embarrassment. If other people could see how bad he has it for you, then that means you might see it too. 

“Do… Do you think she knows?” He asks shyly, fiddling with the rings on his fingers for comfort. Wayne leans back in his chair, giving a small shrug. 

“She might,” that answer weighs heavily on Eddie but Wayne is quick to try fix it, “but, would that be a bad thing?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know,” Eddie rambles, bouncing his leg as he does the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out if you knew. 

“Personally, kid, I don’t think it would be. Knowin’ that you love her, how could that be bad?” His words knock around in Eddie’s head for a few moments before he speaks in a small voice. 

“It could ruin everything,” Wayne couldn’t help but laugh at those words. 

“Kid, lovin’ someone doesn’t ruin a damn thing,” he smiles and crosses his arms. “If it’s right, then it’s right. If not, then it’s not. But that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.”

Eddie took in his words again, chewing his lip nervously. He hated when Wayne was like this, all insightful and wise. It was unnerving, but at the same time, he always knew exactly what Eddie needed to hear. 

“You do what you think is best, Eddie. I’m gonna go to bed now, I’ll see ya tonight,” he stands and pats Eddie’s back as he makes his way towards the pull out sofa. Eddie mumbles his goodnights and makes his way to his own room, Wayne’s alarmingly wise words knocking around his head as he gets ready for a shower. 

Would it be so bad if you knew? He was going to find out. 

Part I. Part III

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I'm going to combine all of my favorite thoughts together and no one can stop me

Billy doesn't die at the end of S3, and Eddie doesn't die either. Steve grows into a pretty little punk and the three of them have the most confusing dynamic in the entire group. The kids mostly find it entertaining, but Nancy and Robin are slightly worried.

Billy has gotten better, he really has. With him having been dragged into the kid's lives more, he caught Hop's attention more and the man had immediately realized what was actually going on in the Hargrove household. Hop won't suffer an abuser, especially one server enough to producer Billy and has his father arrested shortly before the start of season 3. Billy is still a bit of a dick, but there isn't nearly as much bite behind his bark.

Billy and Steve have an antagonistic relationship that keeps both of them on their toes. Its not exactly playful, they've got too much baggage for that, but they're not really enemies either?

Steve and Eddie get along like long lost soulmates. There's no real reason that they should, bur they see each other in a way no one else really sees them.

Billy and Eddie cannot and should not be left alone together under any circumstances. Too much chaos and not enough braincells. They're smoking buddies, they've got similar taste in music and Eddie intimately understands the rage that lives in Billy, knows he probably would have been just like him if not for Wayne.

When the three of them are all together, its madness. Billy and Eddie act mostly on impulse with Steve being the only thing keeping them from killing themselves on a dare from one another. If Billy gets too hyphy, Eddie can and will tackle and wrestle the violence out of him. Eddie loves listening to Steve and Billy banter back and forth, its one of the few times he just listens rather than rambling on himself. Steve appreciates not being the only person in the group who didn't spend their high-school years being a goddamn nerd even if Eddie looks crestfallen when he and Billy give him twin blank stares when he launches into a DND rant.

The others are happy these three don't seem so isolated and miserable anymore, which is the only reason they're willing to put up with The Tension. They all capitalize it in their heads because its That Bad.

Billy is an incredibly pretty man, everyone knows that. Steve Harrington is also incredibly pretty (more so when he grows into himself) which everyone knows. Eddie Munson is incredibly gay, although not everyone knows that.

Eddie gets distracted by Billy all the time. His eyes are gorgeous and his lips are hypnotizing and hes never wearing enough clothes. Hes also got this fucking thing he does with his tongue when hes ready to fight that Steve is sure has nearly gotten him killed because he was staring at it. Then there's the way Eddie looks when he's shredding on his guitar that makes Billy feel some kind of way he tries real goddamn hard to ignore. Or fuck forbid Steve is wet for any reason.

They're all a mess, and they're all clueless that the others feel the same and it really is painful to watch.

It boils over though when Steve goes punk. Thats the last fucking straw for Billy, who has the impulse control of a newborn. He takes one look at this man in his revamped letterman and his torn jeans, lips glossed and hair artfully tussled, and just loses it. He pins him to the wall of Eddie's trailer and kisses him half stupid.

Eddie stands there awkwardly, feeling a little lie he's dying inside, unable to decide who hes more jealous of and about to to go to the woods for somewhere private to have a smoke and a cry, when Billy pulls off Steve and turns right around to haul Eddie in next. Both Eddie and Steve are baffled, pinned to the wall between Billy's arms.

When he finishes with Eddie, he glances between the two of them with a "Go on, we all know you want to" and waits patiently as they have a silent conversation before falling into each other.

Its odd, definitely, and it takes a lot of talking about (and maybe a bitching match that turns into a kissing match) but they find a way forward, the three of them, thanking God for Billy's shit impulse control every step of the way.

This episode wasn't what I expected and I enjoyed it for the most part.

The Bachelor cold open was super awkward but I loved Maddie, Chim and Josh fangirling about the show. And the shots of Eddie and Buck, precious.

The case with the lady and her son was heartbreaking. And it was interesting what Harry brought up, how Athena acts as a cop even when she should be a mother. Though I'm glad she had Harry's back, ultimately. (And I wasn't aware it was a different actor, so nice soap opera dig there)

Watching Buck being jealous and hurt about the fast friendship between Eddie and Tommy was heartbreaking. And that scene where Eddie asked him to watch Chris while he was going out with Tommy - that was straight out of a fan fiction. I'm pretty sure I read at least fifteen stories with that same scene.

Thought Ravi's Who's Tommy? was my favourite part of it all. Ravi, me beloved. And it was so great to see Buck and Eddie still be so in sync on the job, despite being out of sync off of it.

Loved all the Maddie and Buck scenes. They are such a unit and there for each other. And she can read him so well and be frank but gentle. Sibling goals, right there.

The last scene with Tommy and Buck was a little surprising in the sense that I never once read Buck's behavior as being directed at Tommy. So that came out of the left field. But I don't mind it, as long as Tim was telling the truth and we won't see much of Tommy anymore. I like Lou but I don't care about Tommy one way or the other.

What I'm curious about is Eddie's reaction to this development. Because Buck didn't really seemed surprised so I want to know how it will be played. If it was his first kiss with a man or if he knew before that he was queer but it just never came up. I'm good either way.

I really hope this is not the end but just the next step in Buddie becoming what we know they are - husbands. Family. Soulmates.

Because giving us queer Buck and then just do like Tuxedo Mask and fuck off would be worse than the shit Fox was pulling in the last two seasons.

But we are getting at least another season so I am willing to wait. I now have more hope. And I cannot wait for Buck and Eddie to talk. And to see Eddie's reaction and how he will take Buck dating men and women now. Because while petty Eddie is on thin ice with me, jealous Eddie clears my skin and waters my crops. But I'm willing to be patient and have Buck deal with this situation before we get anywhere with Eddie.

But they better give me my Buddie hug. That one is way , way overdue.

Eddie Munson SFW Alphabet

DON'T STEAL MY WORK. I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY WORK REPUBLISHED.

A/N: All I'm gonna say is I have had an obsession with this man since I finished Season 4. NSFW will be coming soon.

Masterlist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Eddie is very affectionate, let's be honest. Whether it be an arm around the shoulder, a kiss on the head, loves to show you how much he loves you

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Dustin Henderson convinced you to go see his band, Corroded Coffin, with him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh he loves to cuddle and when he lays on top of you and you mess with his long hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He never intended to settle down, especially since he thought he was cursed but you are in charge of cooking cause he has a history of burning food. Cleaning, he's not bad at it, especially when he is frustrated.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd probably leave you a letter because he wouldn't be able to face you at least until you stormed into his trailer asking "What the fuck?"

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He wants to give it time. He feels as if he's cursed in both life and relationships as if it comes from his parents.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He tends to be gentle both ways. When you guys get into fights he doesn't yell at you. It has to be life or death before he yells at you and it has to be the same before he refuses to touch you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs but only hugs from people he likes. His hugs mean something, and smell of nicotine, weed, hairspray and his cheap cologne.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He wanted to say it right away. He knew the moment he saw you that he was in love with you. Love at first sight but he waited till you said it first.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not very jealous, he knows you wouldn't cheat on him but when he is... Oh watch out buddy. It's one of the few situations he will call you a number of names like "my girl" and "Mrs. Munson", and he basically hangs off of you but if they don't get the hint he will make them very uncomfy.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses taste like a mix of nicotine and weed. You really don't mind it. His favorite place to kiss you is your neck. The way your head goes back begging for more... He loves it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He is pretty funny around kids. He likes to take things a little too serious with kids but it makes your heart warm.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

When you guys are together in the morning, you make breakfast and he hugs you from the back.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Smoking a blunt in bed

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Eddie had a hard time opening up to you at first. With his past he was afraid he was gonna scare you off. With everything with his dad, you didn't want to push. So when he finally opened up, you held his hand and listened and was there to support him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

With you... Not very angered. He is a pretty patient person.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He worships the ground you walk on. He remembers everything. He remembers your favorite song, for your one year anniversary he learned how to play it for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you offered to trim his hair because his bangs were getting too long because you had done it on yourself so many times before and you straddled his lap to do it. It turned out okay, he just loved that you offered to do it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's not too protective. He knows you can handle yourself but if he needs to he will step in and kick an ass or two for you. He like to be protected by just standing up for him. He tries not to care that he gets called freak but he knows you care when you stand up for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in the extra mile. He knows you don't care if a gift is expensive but once in awhile he will try and get you something nice but you don't care if it's a ring pop, as long as it came from him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He doesn't wash his sheets after you ask him repeatedly to.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not very, to be honest but don't mess with his hair, it was surprising he let you trim his bangs at all.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh definitely. His uncle and members of the hellfire club have told you that he is kinda mopey when you're not around.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

You had a bad fight with your parents, which was normal but this was different, they insulted Eddie and how much he changed you and it pissed you off. So you decided to hit them where it really hurt. Your hair. You had bright blonde hair, (A/N  sorry) that your parents have loved since you were born. So you bought the darkest hair dye you could find and took it to Eddie's trailer and he helped you dye your hair.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Some one who insulted the people he cared for like the Hellfire club and the members of Corroded Coffin. They are a package deal.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

When you are sleeping together he will dig his head into your chest, as if he is trying to get closer to you than he already is. You love it but sometimes it makes it hard to breathe.

MAKE ME CHOOSE: @phantomqueenmorrigan asked: jealous Eddie or jealous Buck

The look of absolute betrayal on Buck's face in 3x18 when Eddie backs Bobby's play to essentially kill Abby’s fiance to save the girl is just.... so much. 

I mean, this whole exchange between them is loaded, but that bit in particular.... Even and especially when Eddie is explaining "why" saving the girl is better, he sounds so... gentle. Matter of fact, yes, but also like he's breaking bad news to a family member. His speech is clear and soft, his tone almost regretful, and his eyes stay on Buck's face the whole time. 

Because, y’know, that’s usually how you make life or death decisions for strangers when your entire job is based on making life or death decisions for strangers.

I mean, at this point, Bobby (THEIR CAPTAIN) isn’t a part of this conversation at all. At this point, Buck and Eddie are in their own little world, having this conversation and the other conversation right beneath the surface.  This scene isn’t really a “buddie moment” but it’s so... fascinating to me how distinctly not an average call this is to either of them. It’s not an average call for Buck because he’s now confronted with Abby and the whole mess of emotions that comes with that, and it’s not an average call for Eddie because it’s not an average call for Buck but NOT in a “he’s my partner and his head’s not in the game” kind of way, but because now at this point, Eddie is emotionally compromised too.

Buck says to Bobby he’s going to open up the train from the outside and pull the girl out and Eddie’s demeanor changes on a DIME. He goes from being patient, gentle, and understanding, to furious. (SIDE NOTE: It’s very obvious that his fury was brimming just beneath the surface because of how quickly his demeanor changed, but until this moment, he was only angry with Abby. Now, he’s angry with Buck too). 

It’s hard to capture his body language in this scene in screenshots but I’m going to try. So Eddie went from staring Buck directly in the face to:

being unable to look at him

his whole face tightening as he fights the losing battle to keep his mouth shut about Buck’s suicide plan

cutting him off before he can keep talking about his (almost) certain death and his fist clenching as he waits to see if Buck’s going to tell the truth about his promise (this man is literally STRUGGLING to control his anger right now)

and then finally, the absolute disappointment, disgust, and anger that spills out in this famous scene as Eddie removes himself from a situation that was infuriating him

I don’t know, I’ve just honestly found this scene interesting because I know people have said Eddie’s jealous in this episode, and that’s a fun headcanon but I don’t think it’s true, especially not in light of what we know about The Will and how it reshapes everything about Season 3. But it’s not just the will, either. It’s not just that Eddie has made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian only for him to throw his life away, it’s the fact that Buck has no more regard for himself than to throw his life away for a woman who doesn’t even give a damn about him. Because that’s the original source of Eddie’s anger. His anger comes from Abby using that connection, that tether to Buck to save her fiance (nothing against her. God knows I’d probably do the same thing), and while he feels those emotions during the entire rescue, he doesn’t really bleed them until Buck echoes Abby’s unspoken sentiments about his conditional worth and volunteers to put himself in harm’s way for her sake.

I’ve always said that Eddie takes Buck’s self-esteem and mental health personally, and this is the perfect example of that, because at the end of the day, Buck’s mental health is still Buck’s mental health. Whether Buck loves himself or values himself has no real bearing on Eddie’s wellbeing or Eddie’s mood, but he reacts so strongly to Buck’s internal violence and distress like it personally offends him. That’s an enormously deep and strong level of care.

Anyway, I really like this scene even though it’s really angsty. I like how it displays the duality of Buck and Eddie’s relationship too; they’re not just parents/co-parents, and they’re not just friends who are always happy and laughing with each other. They get angry with each other too, for valid reason (and though I’m not really including the lawsuit arc in this conversation which, while I love it, was not a great example of Buck and Eddie being angry with each other while they’re both relatively mentally healthy, I will say that Eddie removing himself from the situation above is indicative of the fact that he is learning, or has learned, not to lash out in his anger like he did at the grocery store in 3x05). 

Eddie Week Day Five: Eddie and His Idiot Husband

Word Count: 2291

Original Pub Date: 19 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz & Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz & Abuela

Author's Note: Me? Writing Christmas fic in June? More likely than you think.

Read on ao3 here

Usual suspects: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck @rebeccaofsbfarm @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly @myemergence

It started out simply enough: Eddie was picking Buck up from the car dealership, taking him to lunch with Christopher while he waited on an oil change. As soon as Buck swung himself up into the truck seat, Chris started giggling.

“What? What’s so funny, little dude?” Buck turns around in the seat to watch him laughing, and Eddie looked up in the rearview mirror to see his son practically doubled over against his seatbelt.

“You-you guys are … you guys are TWINS!” He can hardly get the words out, but as soon as Eddie realizes what he’s said, he glances across the console at Buck

Sure enough, they’re both wearing blue jeans and the same T-shirt: plain black with the LAFD logo on the chest.

It’s an easy coincidence, especially given how many shirts they both have that are identical, city-issued for special events or fundraisers. They’re not technically uniform, but everyone wears them to work, so it only takes a few months to accumulate a pretty big collection.  

Eddie can see the moment when Buck realizes what’s happened, and he feels his heart swell at the way his face lights up.

“Well,” Buck exaggerates the way he winks at Eddie, makes sure Christopher can see the gesture, and looks to the backseat again. “One of us is going to have to change.”  

It happens again three weeks later, just a couple of days after they take Christopher to the aquarium.

(Eddie had tried to call it a “family day,” but he saw the way Buck squirmed at the notion of being part of a family, of having a family so unlike the one where he grew up, one that does things together, has special days and events for no particular reason.  

So he’d dropped it, but knows it’s something that will come up again later, something for them to work on as a family, even if they don’t call it that just yet.)

Because they are a family, and if it weren’t obvious enough, when the got through to the giftshop, Christopher had insisted on a set of three identical Stingray Bay T-shirts to commemorate the occasion. And neither of them have ever been able to tell him no, not for something as simple as that, so Buck had dropped a small fortune on them, insisted on paying after Eddie had bought the ice cream earlier in the day.  

Eddie knows he should have seen this coming, should have anticipated that Buck would show up wearing his stingray shirt on Tuesday when they met at the school to surprise Chris with lunch.  

Buck does this; every single time Christopher gives him something, he makes a point of showing it off, using it when he knows he’ll be able to see how much Buck loved the gift.

So Eddie should have known he’d pick today to debut the new shirt, should have planned ahead and picked something else, literally anything else, from his closet.  

Not that he doesn’t love the idea of matching clothes with Buck, but that he’d at least like to be a little bit more subtle about it than a pair of blue and grey tie-dye swirled T-shirts with bright yellow lettering and a cartoon stingray. He couldn’t possibly be happier than he is when he’s with Buck; the last year and a half have been the best of his life.  

But he’d rather show it off with the way they can't stop smiling when they’re together, the way they’re constantly touching, always seeking each other out. It’s a quieter, more honest demonstration of their relationship.  

But there’s not much he can do about it when he meets Buck out front of the building and they’re both wearing the shirts. It’s not like he has a closet in his truck with extra clothes, so all he can do is grin and bear it.  

It’s worth it though, for the way Buck pulls his sunglasses down and whistles as Eddie approaches.

“Nice shirt, babe. Where’d you get it?”  

“Just this place I know.” Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. “My kid picked it out, and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen bought it for me.”  

“Oh, a hot guy? Should I be jealous?” Buck laughs and pulls the door open, settling his hand low on Eddie’s back as he kisses him gently and walks into the building.

“Only because I’m the one holding the French fries, and you know how Chris picks his favorite dad for the day.”

A month later, Eddie starts a massive load of laundry before he gets dressed for work, having put it off for long enough that he knows it’ll probably need two cycles in the dryer. Only after the machine had started filling with water did he realize that he hadn’t remembered to set aside the least-dirty shirt in the pile so he had something to wear into the station.  

Which leaves him scrambling to find a shirt, any shirt he can wear until he gets to work and puts his uniform on. There’s one left, stuck way at the back of his drawer.  

It’s the very epitome of a Laundry Day shirt, covered in garish black and white stripes. In one of his finer moments as a father, Eddie had let Christopher rope him into dressing up as a zebra for the station Halloween party so he could be a zookeeper.  

(There had been no need to rope Buck in. In fact, the whole thing had been Buck’s idea, after he’d gone with Chris on the field trip to the zoo and sat next to him while they watched the zebra feeding.)

The costume had been great, he has to admit. But as soon as the party was over, the shirt went to the back of the drawer, waiting for yardwork season.  

Or, laundry day.

Reluctantly, he pulls the shirt over his head and hopes that he’s running late enough to make it into the locker room before anyone sees him.  

But why would that go in his favor when nothing else this morning has? Eddie has just made it into the station when he collides with a black and white striped blur.

“What? Ed—” Buck steadies them both and looks Eddie up and down, checking for any injuries. “I leave you alone for one night, and you hardly make it to work on—”

Eddie watches his face as Buck realizes which shirt he’s wearing, and he’s sure it must match his own expression when he sees the same garment pulled taut across Buck’s chest.  

“—time.” Buck finishes, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be running late if someone hadn’t insisted on ‘saying goodbye’ before he went home last night.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and Buck flushes at the memory of how … thorough … his parting kiss had been. “Could’ve had the laundry in the machine last night, maybe even had a regular shirt to wear today.”  

“I’ll have you know that I happen to think this is an excellent shirt on you.” Buck runs his hand up Eddie’s torso to wrap his fingers over his shoulders.  

“Mm, there’s no way it looks better than yours does.” Eddie mirrors the gesture with a smirk. “You know my excuse; why’d you pick it out?”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting Buck to say, knows it’s nothing to do with seeing Chris since he’s at a sleepover after school tonight. But Buck still manages to surprise him when he shrugs, and responds like he’s saying the most obvious thing in the world.

“Couldn’t decide if I wanted to wear a white shirt or a black shirt today. So, both.” With his free hand, he waves up and down his body.

Eddie’s got a response all ready to go, is ready to watch the look on Buck’s face when he asks why he didn’t just split the difference and wear grey, but before he can say anything, Hen rounds the corner and bursts out laughing.

“OK,” She gasps out when she’s finally able to control her chuckles again. “Are you two only going to wear clothes from Christopher from now on? Because I’m telling you both, that is a mistake. He’s a cute kid, but the fashion doesn’t translate well to grown men.”  

Neither of them respond, and she walks away after a few moments, calling out for Chimney, who “isn’t going to believe what these idiots managed today!” Once she’s gone, they look at each other and smile.

“Laundry day?”

“Only way I was going to have a shirt for tomorrow that doesn’t have the style sense of a nine-year-old.”  

After that, the spell seems to be broken, whatever wardrobe-wavelength he and Buck were on shifted far enough that they’re dressing independently again.  

Before Eddie knows it, there’s a chill in the air – as much as there ever is in LA – and he and Buck are taking Christopher back to the mall to see Santa again.  

This year, there’s nothing stopping him from leaning against Buck while they wait in line, no reason for Buck not to tuck three of his fingers into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans.  

While they’re waiting for Chris to come back out of the little cardboard village house, something catches Eddie’s eye in the window of the nearby department store. He turns to face Buck, putting just enough distance between them for Buck’s hand to drop back to his own side.  

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Long as that kid’s list is, you’ll still be waiting, but if not, meet you guys right here?”

“Sure.” Buck smiles, clearly unconcerned as Eddie walks away. He doesn’t waste any time, quickly finds what he’s looking for and waits in a miraculously short pre-Christmas line to check out and join Buck back in the winter wonderland.  

He sits the paper gift bag by their feet, rebuffs Buck’s attempts to find out what’s inside.

“Would you be patient?” But he’s smiling as he nudges Buck away from him. “You’ll find out in … 18 days.”  

“Fine.” Buck rolls his eyes. “But I’m not telling you what your present is either.”  

Eddie picks up a few other things along the way, loves nothing more than spoiling Buck when he has the chance, but there’s no gift he’s more excited about than the one from the mall. It had been such a hit last year that the 118 decides to celebrate en masse again, so he slips the presents into a large box and slides it into the bed of his truck before making sure Christopher's ready to go.

They make it through dinner and two rounds of presents before Eddie can’t wait any longer. When it’s Buck’s turn to unwrap something again, Eddie passes him a slim, flat package.

“Open this one. You’ve waited patiently enough.”

He watches closely as Buck peels away the paper and shakes the box to reveal a silk necktie the exact same color as his eyes. He beams at Eddie, then gasps and stands up in a hurry.

“Bobby! Eddie needs to open the next gift!”  

“Why? He gets to go again in two turns.” Bobby, ever the father figure, has been keeping track, making sure everything is handled diplomatically. Buck steps carefully through the children spread out in the middle of the floor, making his way across the room to whisper something in Bobby’s ear. His eyes widen as he considers whatever case it is that Buck’s making, and he nods. “Alright, I think we can make an exception just this once. Go get your present, son.”  

He bounds across the room and fishes a tiny, firecracker-shaped package from underneath the tree then tosses it to Eddie.

“Your turn, honeybunches.” The over-the-top pet name elicits eye rolls from around the room – Eddie included – and Buck grins as he settles himself back in the seat beside him.  

Eddie turns the present over in his hand, tries to figure out what Buck might have come up with that would be shaped like this. Finally, he gives up on trying to guess and just pulls the ribbon loose at one end, folds the wrapping back to reveal –

An identical blue necktie.

Maddie puts it together first, claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeal.

“You bought me … your necktie?” Eddie holds it up, trying to gauge if they really are the same shade of blue.

“No. Well, yes, I did. But that wasn’t … I didn’t know you’d bought one for me. You just always look at things this color when we’re at the mall, so I figured you must like it.”  

“It’s my favorite color,” Eddie replies, his voice thick with quiet wonder. “It matches your eyes.”

On Maddie’s other side, Chimney leans in to stage-whisper, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Gee, wonder why it’s his favorite. Could it be? Do you think? Nah …"  

She swats his arm and he yelps, but stops talking.

“Your favorite color … is my eyes?”  

“Yeah, they’re ... blue.” There are a million other thoughts going through Eddie’s head, moving so fast that he can’t pin any one of them down enough to elaborate.  

He looks up from the tie, stares into Buck’s eyes and marvels at how a ribbon of fabric was able to match the color so perfectly. As Christmas gifts go, a necktie is pretty unremarkable, but Eddie knows right away that he’ll treasure this one forever.

As the party goes on around them, Eddie’s mind wanders to the little velvet box in his pocket.  

Maybe just once, he and Buck can plan to coordinate their outfits, right down to matching neckties.  

THE LOST CAT PODCAST TRANSCRIPTS: SEASON 3: EPISODE 05:  FIREBALLS

SEASON 3: EPISODE 05:  FIREBALLS

Episode released 26th March 2017

I met a real magician once. He said that magic was real. He said what we call 'magic' was the conscious mind's means of influencing the probability matrices of the quantum plane in order to positively impact the future of that organism. But he did not throw any fireballs, and I left.

THE LOST CAT SEASON 3 BY A P CLARKE, EPISODE 5: FIREBALLS

There have been new arrivals in our neighbourhood. Not ordinary hipsters – they left a long time ago. No: a new kind. Young, and undeniably beautiful, they drifted through the streets wearing seemingly random assortments of clothing that suggested they dressed by having people throw underwear at them until some stuck. Great booming bass would echo about the buildings late at night from secret clubs holding secret parties where these new arrivals would go and do who knows what to who knows what. They would engage people in conversation on the street, often with opening gambits like 'do you more fear death or birth?' and 'what stops you from eating me?'. They walked as if on feathers, and they did not leave dents in cushions. A lot of the local population was deeply suspicious of them, and I saw an aggressiveness in the rhetoric towards these new arrivals I had never witnessed before, and found deeply fascinating. There was one in the pub last Wednesday. He was wearing, as far as I could tell, neon tubing and feathers. He was drinking an iced water, so I went up to talk to him. He said his name was Sparkles. I looked back at the bar, where there staff were giving him dirty looks, and then engaged with him. He said, "Cats? Cats have great ritual power. They contain a strong liminality that connects them to the many layers of our realities." "I can back that up," I said. "We use them in our rituals." "You wait what now?" I said. "Look, we're not just partying. That would be a nihilism. We are practicing our beliefs." "Oh? And what are your beliefs?" "Weeeeell," he said. "Technically we're satanists." "Oh," I said. "Look," he said. "It's not what you think. Try this: what are witches but powerful women the church needed destroyed? What are ghosts but the lessons of the past our leaders need us to ignore? The myths of many cultures are filled with figures of rebellion and truth, villified and tortured to preserve existing power structures. Consider Prometheus, who stole fire from the Gods to help humanity, and consider his vile punishment. What is the devil but a creature who defied God to help humanity? Again and again he tempted Jesus with comfort and again and again Jesus chose pain, so that we would consider pain good, as those in charge inflict hardship upon hardship on us. Comfort is the truth. Joy is the way." "It still sounds a little dangerous to me." "Oh," he said. "It's mostly about sex." "Oh well, that’s OK then." "Look, we’re having a party tonight. Come along, it'll be fun. You'll love it." "And you say you have cats?" "Oh, hundreds of them." "I think I may just do that." And I left Sparkles to his iced water and the huddled stares of the bar staff, and set off to plan. I had the location from Sparkles but I needed to do more than just attend. If I was to investigate their cat-activities I would need to infiltrate them. If I was to infiltrate their group I had to pass as one of them. Now this was not a group that functioned on dusty initiations such as passwords, handshakes, and obscurantist ritual. No, this was a group that identified its members in body language and pheromone. Non-verbal, animalistic, biological. They, who did not tremendously believe in reality, treated altering it in much the same way they approached getting dressed. I was going to have to take Lots Of Drugs. If I was on the same drugs as them, they would simply see me as one of them, and all the doors would open. The drugs would serve the secondary purpose of numbing me enough to be able to stand being in a club. Oh lord the idea of all that noise, and all those people, and all that activity, all bouncing around inside some dark space I could not get out of – the very idea filled me with dread. But I had to do this, I had to do this for my cat, and so I girded myself and set out to acquire some drugs. Which I did by asking my housemate Maupin, who always had loads. She gave me an almighty smirk as I gave her my shopping list. "Are you actually going to try having fun tonight?" "I’m doing this for my cat." "Yes, dear," she said, and handed the pills and powders over. Uppers to get my metabolism going, some MDMA for the emotions and something herbal to take the edge off my rational faculties. I should be fine, and kept a selection of miscies in my pocket just in case I needed to do some fine tuning later. "Umm," I said. "Also could I borrow that sequined blouse of yours?" And she laughed out loud. Well after dark, way after my bedtime, after even the shadows stopped moving, I headed out. Dear listener: do not take drugs, do not worship Satan, and do not own a cat. No good can come from any of them. Nevertheless: I, on drugs and heading off to party with satanists in order to find my cat, followed the bass as it flowed around the buildings, using the tingling in my fingers as much as my ears. It filled up the hollows of my bones and warmed my cold skin from within, as the city melted away and left only light. I followed the brightest and I found a door. As I approached, I was joined by a couple with vertical hair, who waved at a lady who had hooves and the door opened and heat poured out and we all went in and that was that. And I thought to myself 'maybe this will work'. But inside was way more intense than I had anticipated. The noise was like a wall, the crowds moved like paper, they talked like boiling water. I lost the couple. The great hollow of the dance floor was filled with smoke and steam and light and everything bounced. I was not prepared for this. How could anyone survive in such an atmosphere? I made for the back of the room and found the bar. I grabbed on to it like a drowning man grabbing some driftwood, only with a slightly different aim. “A large glass of wine,” I said. But the man behind the bar just stared at me quizzically. He genuinely did not understand what I had said. “Red  or white?” I proffered. He reached behind the bar and produced a bottle of water and a caffeine drink, then waited patiently for my decision. I took the water and nodded sheepishly. He smiled wide and bopped along to the beat, as I went back to the main room and the great void of the dancefloor. And there the music boomed and hissed and everyone gave up their bodies to the great cloud of throbbing steam above them. I staggered and I fell. I bumped in to people who moved with no rhythm I could discern. Already I could see their ecstatic faces turn to concern and confusion as I blundered past. It was not good. It was not right, my body’s metabolism was still massively out of step with theirs. But I could not give in. I would have to do something drastic. I would have to go onto the dancefloor. Horrifying though that was, it had to happen. And so, desperately wishing I had a glass of wine in my hand, and feeling incredibly jealous of anyone, anywhere, who had, I went down on to the floor, and started to dance.

<music starts 'Dance On My Own' written and performed by A P Clarke>

Turn, and then kick, and then burn, then turn around again to the beat, in this heat, I don't think I can go on.

In the black, in the hole, and i'm gone, without a trace a boot beating down forever into my face

Don't dance in my space i'm out of my zone Don't crowd in my face i'll dance my own Get me out of here.

Dead orange lights beat down on me I know that I Can not breathe, i'm a  thousand miles away from home

Don't dance in my space i'm out of my zone Don't crowd in my face i'll dance my own Get me out of here.

I danced and I danced and I danced some more. And the crowd changed around me. No longer was I bouncing off everyone, but everyone flowed around me and I around them in perfect syncronicity. I heard flutters in the music that turned in to words that turned in to stories that lasted for hours. I began to see shapes, swirls of movement, eddies of excitement, and whirlpools of concentration, and the cloud of steam above us was like a galaxy that rained warm stardust down upon us all. I danced and I danced, and it was great. Some unknown hours later, I retreated to have a rest. I was sat with a lady wearing handkerchiefs who was leaning on me while she got her breath back. "It is like all the people are moving as one," I said. "Joined as if by a singular consciousness." "Yeah sure, I guess." "It’s incredible." "Oh," she said, sighing. "It’s mostly about sex." And then I saw a new tide in the crowd. A sweep of movement crossed the dancefloor as the crowd parted perfectly around a man with straight, dark hair down to his waist, and wearing a silk slip and hobnail boots, floating through the space and in to a non-descript door off to the side. As I looked at this current, I could see it begin to glow, as if a red mist were rising from where the man had passed. I could see others start to follow the glowing red path as they picked up his energy. And all these red glows converged on that door off to the side. The lady leaning on me sighed, once more. "I’m going to get  some air," she said. "Are you OK?" And she laughed. "I am  beyond fine, sweetie. Hey, you try and have some fun." "I’ll try," I replied. I stood up and headed back to the dancefloor, slipping in to the wake of the red glow and feeling a warmth that dissapated if I  stepped outside of the main current. I looked down at my hands and I swore I could see a red mist rising up. I walked right through the mob of the dancefloor as if through an empty field, the door was unlocked, and I walked in. On the other side was a long corridor, stretching in to darkness, obscured by curtains of dust that hung in the gloom. And everything felt different. Immediately I was hit with a smell coming up from that darkness. Strong, and musty. And there was a hint of something underneath that smell too, dull and bitter, I could taste it on my tongue. A smell like decay and old blood. And then the curtains of dust began moving towards me as a pale form appeared in the darkness and grew larger and larger. I fell against a wall, and could only feel the cold earth solid all around me. And then I saw the red mist, and the man with the long brown hair emerged out of it and put his arm around me and said “hey man, are you feeling it?” I said “it’s pretty intense down here.” "Oh I hear you, take these." "What are they?" "I’ve been on them for two days." "Oh hey, great," I said, and I took them. He helped me along the corridor. "You got here just in time," he said, sounding excited. "The ceremony is just beginning." The corridor grew narrower. I could not remember if we had made a turn. I did not know how to get out. As I put my hand out to the wall, I swear I could feel smooth rounded shapes embedded. The red mist turned to fog and then we walked through a door in to a candle lit chamber. Wide eyed figures sat all around the edge, a stone altar stood in the middle. To its side a lady in a white gown and lying on its top, a cat. It was asleep, and had heavy gold chain draped over it. It wasn’t my cat, but it was still a cat. The man, bobbing with excitement, gently led me to a space on the floor and sat me down. I swear I could feel those smooth shapes on the ground too. Behind the congregation I could see small, smooth round shapes embedded in the walls. The candles were held on stands made from small, white bones. Hanging from the ceiling were scultpures of small, white bones. The lady was wearing necklaces made of small, white bones and held in her hand a large, golden knife. And the man could barely contain himself as the lady said, "let the ceremony begin!" "Why are you using a cat?" And she stopped, and looked at me from several angles, trying to see me while her eyes changed dilation. She raised her arms again and intoned: "Good friends! And new friends! Language is accident. Reason coincidence. There is no truth, only meaning. And the physical manifestation of meaning is Symbol." And she gestured to the cat as she turned to the room: "The figure of a cat is our most powerful symbol, for its meaning stretches from this world to the next!" The congregation all murmured together. "What are you going to do with that cat?" I continued. With only almost entirely imperceptible dip of her head, she continued. "And by reaching in to this symbol we will bring the next world to us. By taking of this symbol we ourselves will reach into that next world where we will take what we will. For comfort is the truth and joy is the way. The devil is our guide and they will provide." "Are you going to kill it?" And she turned to me, looking me right up and down. She came to some decision and she moved towards me. But back to the congregation she intoned: "The Devil is our guide!" And they repeated this, over and over. "The Devil is our guide! The Devil is our guide! And they will provide!" And then she gave me her full attention. "Who are you?" she said. "I’m just looking for my cat." "Yes, I can see you have a special connection. There is power in you." As she came closer, her eyes got wider apart and then she turned in to a snake, and then turned inside out and became a being of light, and then a butterfly. I blinked and she had not moved. "Are you real?" She beamed: "what is real?" I looked around desperately. I saw the cat begin to stir. She smiled sympathetically “Look: a symbol is an object, and action or an idea that is both understandable to us, here in the reasonable world we inhabit here, and to the  pre-conscious usses in the world of pure physical, biological being. Thus through these rituals, and this joining with the symbol, we can communicate with that world." "OK, but what’s the whole 'Devil' business?" The congregation was still intoning its mantra of ‘the Devil is our guide’ "Oh one god is as good as another. And he plays really well with this crowd. Look, I do the best with what I can get. This is all a means to an end. Maybe don’t call them 'symbols'. Perhaps 'forces' is a better term. 'Things that can affect'. Yes? They make a difference.” "A difference?" "With them we can influence the future." My eyes went wide. And she leaned in really close. "We can get you whatever you want. If you let the ritual carry on. Whatever you desire." "Really?" "What is it that you most want?" "Can it help me find my cat?" She sighed, "you know, this is mostly about sex, right?" The cat on the alter, with the attention distracted towards me, took its opportunity to escape. It bit and clawed at its bindings. And to my eyes the chains burst in to flames as they flew apart. The cat sprang up and bared its teeth and arched its back and every hair stood on end and burnt like fireworks. It looked like the devil and it was the devil and the crowd recoiled from its presence. The lady stood and ran towards it. The cat raised its burning tail and slashed it across the air, cutting great swathes in reality itself. Reality tore and flapped open as the tail lashed like whips upon our world. I could see nothing behind those rends but from within came screams. I looked in to the dimensions beyond and they were made of eyes. A great streak of energy hit the man with the long brown hair fell over on to his hands and knees and his limbs thinned and his spine stretched out beyond his hips and his skull stretched out and his hair was all over his body until he was the shape of a dog, he was a dog. The cat hissed and scratched at him he yelped and ran out on fleshy, uneven legs. And the priestess reared up over the cat and yelled: "no! I am in control! I am the mistress of the ceremony!" And she went for the cat. The cat did not like this and went up on its back legs as its clawed front-paws went for the lady. They met above the altar and the impact tore the remaining tatters of our reality, opening up the dimension beyond as like a great well and the lady and the cat were sucked in. The lady hung on to the altar for a moment, but her body was stretching deep in to the void beyond. As she passed in to that dimension of infinite power, already I could see her eyes light up with an  immense growing energy within. She intoned: “I shall return, and rule you all!” And then she was gone After a moment’s silence, the rends in our world sucked themselves shut and the energy expended was like a sun directly in my face. And then it was all dark. I did not move for a while. And then a sputtering flame appeared, faint and far in the distance before me. My eyes began to centre on it. It formed in to a ball, and it rushed towards me. It grew and it grew until it was right before my face. And my eyes suddenly focused, and I was in an empty room, and Sparkles was helping me up, holding a cigarette lighter up for illumination. He was beaming from ear to ear. "Some party, huh?" he said. I said, "it was magic."

THIS HAS BEEN THE FIFTH EPISODE OF THE LOST CAT PODCAST, SEASON 3, TITLED 'FIREBALLS', WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY A P CLARKE. COPYRIGHT 2017.

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