#Jeff Asher

[pagodazz]

I literally don't know anymore... I'll make more saw memes eventually

[felxxwiw]

M3300WW

L1n3s fr0m th3 s0ng "Angel 92" by M4r3tu

[cynningly]

Hey Slenderverse People!

I made a couple of playlists for series! Two of them have all the canonical music of the series and one is just some music i think fits the vibe of the slenderverse as a whole

^this one has every song outright played on the everymanHYBRID youtube channel (it does not include the songs mentioned on Steph’s blog, unfortunately. This is because there are a fuckton of them, and I could make a whole separate playlist for CANYOUSEETHEWORDS. If someone asked me to, i probably would.)

^this one has every song played in TribeTwelve. If you’ve watched TribeTwelve, you’re probably wondering wtf this is cause there’s rarely any music in T12. Well, you’re mostly right. But all the weird distorted background nonsense? Yeah, it’s all music. So, here it is! (this one does include music outside the youtube channel because 1. the music was less recognizable than in emh where the songs fit the story, and 2. cause it was only like one song; “Blackest Eyes” by Porcupine Trees, which was mentioned in Milo’s Journal as being his favorite song and is now one of mine so you all have to hear it)

***Id also like to say that I did not find all of these songs myself. I simple googled for them and found this webpage, which not only lists the songs, but has them in order. So thanks to whoever figured that out

lastly, here’s just a fan one with a mashup of my favs that are canonically in series and some that i just think fit the vibe of amnesia, hopelessness, not knowing who you are, changing as a person for the worse, having things hunt you, being stuck in a time loop, and all that other fun stuff that comes with being in a slenderverse series

honestly i could go into a deep dive on why every single one of these songs fits, but i’ll spare you. Also i made the cover and i’m very proud of it cause it combines all my faves (the big 5 + Stan Frederick and WhisperedFaith). Also also this is still being added to pretty frequently.

hoping to make an MLAndersen0 one soon 🤞

[disshiza]

I'm sorry but I love them

[burnttoast-deaddreams]

Update ;

I’m free from the wall, likely going to see if Noah or Milo is still alive.. Well as alive as either of them can get. If i can’t find Noah then i’ll ask Incendiary or Rendezvous. The trees have been getting weirder, and i have a feeling they have something to do with it.

[jeffery-emh-pregnant]

who is the father.

Ur asking the wrong question anon! Tha real question is who the mom is!:3c

~SCRINIARII

[reasonsforhope]

Double dose of articles about how crime is actually plummeting

From the UK:

"Seventy-eight per cent of people in England and Wales think that crime has gone up in the last few years, according to the latest survey. But the data on actual crime shows the exact opposite.

As of 2024, violence, burglary and car crime have been declining for 30 years and by close to 90%, according to the Crime Survey for England and Wales (CSEW) – our best indicator of true crime levels. Unlike police data, the CSEW is not subject to variations in reporting and recording.

The drop in violence includes domestic violence and other violence against women. Anti-social behaviour has similarly declined. While increased fraud and computer misuse now make up half of crime, this mainly reflects how far the rates of other crimes have fallen.

All high-income countries have experienced similar trends, and there is scientific consensus that the decline in crime is a real phenomenon.

The perception gap

So why is there such a gulf between public perception and the reality of crime trends? A regular YouGov poll asks respondents for their top three concerns from a broad set of issues. Concern about crime went from a low in 2016 (when people were more concerned with Brexit), quadrupled by 2019 and plummeted during the pandemic when people had other worries. But in the last year, the public’s concern about crime has risen again.

There are many possible explanations for this, of which the first is poor information. A study published in 1998 found that “people who watch a lot of television or who read a lot of newspapers will be exposed to a steady diet of crime stories” that does not reflect official statistics.

The old news media adage “if it bleeds, it leads” reflects how violent news stories, including crime increases and serious crimes, capture public attention. Knife crime grabs headlines in the UK, but our shock at individual incidents is testament to their rarity and our relative success in controlling violence – many gun crimes do not make the news in the US.

Most recent terrorist attacks in the UK have featured knives (plus a thwarted Liverpool bomber), but there is little discussion of how this indicates that measures to restrict guns and bomb-making resources are effective."

-via The Conversation, May 13, 2024

And the United States:

"[The United States experienced a spike in crime rates in 2020, during the pandemic.] But in 2023, crime in America looked very different.

"At some point in 2022 — at the end of 2022 or through 2023 — there was just a tipping point where violence started to fall and it just continued to fall," said Jeff Asher, a crime analyst and co-founder of AH Datalytics.

In cities big and small, from both coasts, violence has dropped.

"The national picture shows that murder is falling. We have data from over 200 cities showing a 12.2% decline ... in 2023 relative to 2022," Asher said, citing his own analysis of public data. He found instances of rape, robbery and aggravated assault were all down too.

Yet when you ask people about crime in the country, the perception is it's getting a lot worse.

A Gallup poll released in November found 77% of Americans believed there was more crime in the country than the year before. And 63% felt there was either a "very" or "extremely" serious crime problem — the highest in the poll's history going back to 2000.

So what's going on?

What the cities are seeing

What you see depends a lot on what you're looking at, according to Asher.

"There's never been a news story that said, 'There were no robberies yesterday, nobody really shoplifted at Walgreens,'" he said.

"Especially with murder, there's no doubt that it is falling at [a] really fast pace right now. And the only way that I find to discuss it with people is to talk about what the data says." ...

For cities like San Francisco, Baltimore and Minneapolis, there may be different factors at play [in crime declining]. And in some instances, it comes as the number of police officers declines too.

Baltimore police are chronically short of their recruitment goal, and as of last September had more than 750 vacant positions, according to a state audit report...

In Minneapolis, police staffing has plummeted. According to the Star Tribune, there are about 560 active officers — down from nearly 900 in 2019. Mannix said the 2020 police killing of George Floyd resulted in an unprecedented exodus from the department...

In Minneapolis, the city is putting more financial resources into nontraditional policing initiatives. The Department of Neighborhood Safety, which addresses violence through a public health lens, received $22 million in the 2024 budget."

-via NPR, February 12, 2024

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter four - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Eddie shows up drunk.

Warnings:

Drinking, Eddie being a perv, angst, secret baby

Word Count: 3k

A/N:

Shout out to @punkrockmlchael for the help with this one!

—

It was a week later, and Eddie hadn’t seen or heard from you again. Not that he had tried. He knew what Wayne thought, what he thought, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone, or drive to your apartment and demand to talk. He was a coward.

Now, he was drinking again, just like he’d done every day since he’d found out.

“Eddie’s here!”

The band cheered as Eddie walked into The Hideout, clearly after already pre gaming at home. He was already swaying as he approached the bar where Gareth, Jeff, and Doug sat, and they noticed immediately.

“Rough night?” Gareth asked with an eyebrow raised as Eddie sat down next to him, ordering a round of shots.

“You have no fuckin’ idea,” Eddie mumbled, downing a shot the second they were placed in front of him. Gareth reached for one but Eddie waved him off. “These are for me, fucker.”

Gareth backed off, hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. What’s up with you?”

Eddie downed three more shots in succession. Jeff and Doug were staring at him, too - sure, Eddie liked to drink, but not like this. Something was obviously very wrong.

“Talk to us, man,” Jeff added.

Eddie ordered some more shots. He would need them. “I got some…news.”

If the boys weren’t concerned before, they certainly were now. “What, are you dying or something?” Gareth asked, genuinely worried for his friend despite his wording.

Eddie laughed, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. “No.”

“Well what’s up then, man?” Doug asked. “You’re worrying us.”

Eddie downed another two shots. He was on his way to a blackout. “I have a son.”

It went silent. Then, the guys all broke out into nervous laughter. “Good one, man,” Gareth said, his voice uncertain. Eddie didn’t look like he was joking, but he had to be. There was no way he had a kid.

“I’m serious,” Eddie said, his eyes locked on the shots in front of him. “I have a son. He’s almost 2. His name is Asher.” He downed another. “And I’ve never met him. Don’t know shit about him, b’sides what he looks like. I dunno what he likes, or if he’s anything like me. I don’t know shit.”

Gareth, Jeff, and Doug were silent. They exchanged a confused look. Finally, Gareth spoke up again. “Ed, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I told you.” Eddie slammed down another shot glass, causing the guys to jump. “I have a kid. A son.”

“Are you being serious?” Jeff asked, nursing his own beer. The guys would all need a drink after this conversation.

“Yes,” Eddie said. “I just found out.”

It was silent for a minute. “With who?” Gareth asked. “A groupie? Or…” It dawned on the group at once. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice slurring even more heavily, “Oh shit.”

“How…what the fuck?” Gareth said, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. “She didn’t tell you?”

Another shot. “Nope.”

“So she just…talked to you while we were gone, and never mentioned anything?” Doug asked.

Eddie laughed humorlessly again, looking down at the empty shot glass in his hand. “I never called her,” he admitted. “Like a fucking idiot.”

“What the hell, man?” Gareth asked, looking at Eddie incredulously. “You never called her? I thought you loved her.”

Eddie waved a hand. “I don’t need the lecture all over again, Gare.”

Eddie drank himself stupid that night. The guys tried to get him to slow down, but he wasn’t having any of it. By the time the other bandmates were nearing drunk, Eddie was beyond wasted, barely able to sit up on the barstool.

“I gotta go,” he slurred, taking multiple tries to stand up.

“Where you going?” Gareth asked.

Eddie didn’t answer. He stumbled his way out of the bar, into the car waiting for him. He gave the driver the address that hadn’t left his head for a single second.

—

Your mind had been racing with thoughts of Eddie since the argument. You thought about calling him, but you felt that it was his responsibility to step up if that’s what he wanted to do. You weren’t going to chase him, that was for sure.

Asher was spending the night at your mom’s again, giving you the night to yourself. Your mom and Dustin loved their grandma and Uncle Dusty time, and you were grateful for the break, because you felt like you’d been going crazy since Eddie came back into your life.

You were just getting comfortable in bed when there was a knock at the door.

You checked the clock on the bedside table. 12am. Who the fuck would be knocking on your door in the middle of the night?

You grabbed the baseball bat Steve insisted you keep for protection and cautiously neared the front door. You peered through the peephole, seeing nothing but blackness. That was weird.

You kept the top chain bolt hooked in as you unlocked the door and opened it the few inches it allowed you. The figure on the other side, who had apparently been leaning against the door, stumbled forward. “Oh, shit,” he uttered, catching his balance with a giggle.

You narrowed your eyes. “Eddie?”

“Hey, baby,” he slurred, some attempt at a flirtatious smirk on his face. “Can I come in?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re wasted,” you remarked, observing how incredibly drunk he looked. He was sweating, his cheeks flushed red, and he smelled like alcohol. “Fuck. Come in, I guess.”

You unlocked the chain bolt and opened the door wide, letting him stumble inside. He knocked over the picture frames by the front door as he came in, and you cursed under your breath as you sat the bat down and picked them up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked him, watching as he collapsed onto your couch with a little “Oof.”

“‘s he here?” Eddie slurred, looking around the apartment.

“Who? Asher?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“No. He’s at my mom’s.” And good thing, you thought, because this was the last way he needed to meet his father.

“Claudia?”

“…Yeah. Claudia’s still my mom.”

Eddie heaved a heavy sigh. “She always liked me.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, adjusting the frames he had knocked over back the way you had them, “a lot has changed since you disappeared on us.”

“‘m really sorry,” Eddie said, catching you by surprise. “I was so stupid. So fuckin’ stupid.” He looked like he might be starting to cry as he wiped at his face. “I missed you every day.”

You felt yourself start to soften, despite your anger at what he had done. “I missed you, too. That’s why it hurt so bad.”

Eddie shook his head, wild curls bouncing. “So fuckin’ stupid. Big fuckin’ idiot. Dumbest person on the planet.”

You sighed, sitting on the couch next to him. He really reeked like alcohol. “It’s okay, Eds. You’re drunk. We don’t need to talk about it right now.”

He turned to you abruptly, grabbing onto your hands and catching you by surprise. “I love you. Y’know that? I’ve always loved you. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

Your expression softened to one of pity and hurt. You’d wanted to hear those words for so long, but not while he was wasted on your couch after not hearing a word from him for two years. “Come on, Eddie. You reek. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You helped him off the couch and to the bathroom. You ran a hot shower, helping peel off his gross clothes. You had seen Eddie naked a million times, so you weren’t bothered. But he kept trying to grab at you, and he was half hard as you got him undressed.

“Not tonight, big boy,” you told him as you pushed him into the shower. Eddie grumbled under his breath.

“Come in with me,” he begged, and you weren’t planning to, but you were getting soaked trying to keep him upright and help him wash. You pulled off your pajamas, stepping into the shower as Eddie gave you a wolfish grin.

“No touching,” you reminded him sternly.

He held his hands up. “Yes ma’am. Looking only.”

You rolled your eyes as you put some shampoo in the palm of your hand and began washing his wild hair. Eddie closed his eyes and hummed as you massaged his scalp, relaxing beneath your touch. He stumbled as he nearly fell asleep from the feeling.

“Woah, I’m gonna need you to stay awake for me,” you told him, pushing him under the stream of water to rinse the shampoo out. “I can’t drag you out of here if you pass out on me.”

“‘m not gonna pass out,” he assured you, but you weren’t sure if you fully believed him.

You lathered conditioner into his hair then put some body wash on your loofah. You scrubbed his whole body, washing away the sweat and alcohol. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as you washed him, but you ignored him.

As you washed his body, you noticed a new tattoo you’d never seen before - your name in a swirling script, right on his hip. He certainly hadn’t had that when he left. Your heart clenched in your chest, but you pushed the feelings away.

You pushed him under the water a final time, rinsing him off, before you switched spots with him and washed yourself, too. Might as well.

You turned the shower head off and climbed out, grabbing three towels. You wrapped one around your body and one around your hair and handed the third to Eddie. He shook his head like a dog, sprinkling water all around the bathroom as you glared at him.

Eddie dried himself off, leaning against the shower wall for support. When he was done, you helped him out and back into the living room.

“I think I have some of Steve’s sweatpants around here somewhere…” you mumbled to yourself as you left Eddie on the couch and walked into your bedroom, digging through your dresser drawers. You felt triumphant as you found the grey sweatpants, returning to the living room with them.

You handed them to Eddie, but quickly found he was too drunk to dress himself. You pulled him up, and he held onto your shoulders as you helped him step into the pants one leg at a time, like you would with Asher.

He fell back onto the couch again. You helped him lay down and covered him with the blanket on the back of the couch. “Get some sleep,” you told him. “You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”

You turned to walk away, but you were stopped by Eddie grabbing onto your hand. You turned, seeing his sleepy eyes looking up at you.

“Please don’t leave me,” he said, sounding pathetically sad. Despite yourself, you felt bad for him.

“I can’t fit on the couch with you, Eds,” you told him.

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?”

Your mouth opened to tell him no, but the words didn’t come out. You thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”

Eddie smiled, and you helped him up and into your bedroom. He fell onto your bed, snuggling into the blankets and pillows. “So comfy,” he muttered, voice muffled into the pillow.

You climbed into bed next to him, even more exhausted now. It was seconds later when you heard soft snores from next to you, and you couldn’t help smiling softly to yourself. It felt so domestic, so familiar, you could almost imagine it was years ago and this was your normal.

But things were different now.

—

Eddie woke the next morning with the worst pounding headache. The sunlight through the window burned his eyes, and he pulled the blankets over his head with a groan.

The first thing he noticed was that the smell of the detergent was unfamiliar. He opened his eyes again, seeing the clean bedroom, the light purple comforter, the framed photos decorating the space. He looked to the side and saw a bottle of water and some Tylenol waiting for him.

He recognized the room immediately. He was at your apartment again. God, what the fuck did I do?

He popped the medicine bottle open and took 3 of them, washing them down with the water. He was shirtless, dressed in some grey sweatpants he didn’t recognize.

He cautiously crawled out of bed, taking the time to make it before he left the room. He found you in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. It smelled delicious, and he saw eggs and pancakes waiting on the counter as you fried the bacon. You turned as you heard his footsteps.

“Good morning,” you greeted, and he couldn’t tell if you were upset with him or not.

“Morning,” he said, tentatively approaching you. “Uh, did we…?”

“No,” you answered simply. You removed the pan from the heat and plated the bacon. “You should eat. I’m sure you feel like shit.”

He definitely did. You made plates for both of you, and he sat at the kitchen table across from you. “What…what happened last night?” He asked, before quickly digging into the breakfast feast you’d prepared.

“Well, you showed up at my door completely wasted,” you said, picking at your own plate. “I gave you a shower because you smelled like a bottle of whiskey. Then you asked to sleep in my bed with me.” You didn’t mention the way he’d tried for more.

Eddie’s cheeks blushed red with embarrassment. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Is…”

“No, Asher isn’t here.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. He would feel even more like the worst dad in the world if he’d met his son for the first time in that state. “Look, I was thinking…”

You looked up at him. “What?”

Eddie took a bite of his eggs, stalling. He realized you’d made them just the way he preferred them, even though you liked your eggs softer. “I’d like to meet him.”

You thought for a moment, pushing your food around your plate. “Yeah. We could do that.”

Eddie was surprised at the amount of relief he felt. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d said no. “Can I ask about him?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah, of course.”

“What’s his favorite color?”

You smiled to yourself. “Blue. Like Thomas.”

Eddie smiled, too. “He likes trains?”

“Loves them.”

“What does he like to watch?”

“Mostly Sesame Street,” you said, “but he’s starting to get into the Ninja Turtles now.”

Eddie laughed. He could picture the little boy dancing to the theme song. “Is he anything like me?”

“God,” you said, huffing a small laugh. “Just like you.”

Eddie felt pride at that answer, for some reason. “Yeah?”

“Hell yes,” you said, shaking your head as you took a bite of bacon. “He’s wild. Loves to climb. He loves music, especially metal. He watches the music videos on MTV and tries to headbang along with them. He’s got the hair for it.”

Eddie laughed hard. “Oh my god. I’ve got to see that.”

It went quiet again as the two of you ate, and Eddie lost himself in his thoughts. He thought about how much he’d missed, how his son didn’t even know who he was. When he spoke up again, his tone was serious. “Does he know he has a dad?”

You paused, thinking of how to answer. “I…don’t think he really understands yet,” you said finally. “I guess he kind of sees Steve as a father figure, since he’s around all the time.”

That made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. The idea of Steve being a dad to his kid made him angry - even though he knew he didn’t really have the right to be. He was the one who left and never called, after all.

“But you know,” you said, sensing the hurt Eddie was feeling, “it’s not too late.”

Eddie nodded. He knew that was true. He had a lot to make up for, but Asher was young enough that he could make up for lost time. And he was determined to.

“When do you think I could meet him?” Eddie asked.

You thought for a moment. “You could come over tomorrow?”

Eddie smiled softly. “I’d like that.” He ate another bite of eggs. “Wayne wants to meet him, too.”

You smiled at the mention of his uncle. “I’ve missed Wayne.”

Eddie snorted. “He’s missed you too, believe me.”

The two of you finished the rest of your breakfast in silence. Eddie washed up after - it was the least he could do, he said, after you had essentially taken care of him last night. When he was done, you met him in the living room with his clothes from last night, freshly washed and dried. He felt guilty and grateful as he took them from you.

He changed back into his own clothes in your bedroom. When he was done, he examined the photos decorating the room that he hadn’t noticed when he’d been here before. There were plenty of Asher - he featured in most of them, in fact. Photos of you with Claudia and Dustin, with Steve and Robin. He even found the photo from when you and Eddie had gone to prom together among them. He smiled at the memory, looking at your high school selves. You looked happy. Happier than he’d seen you since he’d gotten back.

He wondered if he was the one who’d taken that sparkle out of your eyes.

When he left the bedroom, you were curled on the couch, watching an episode of Freddy’s Nightmares. Eddie approached, watching over your shoulder for a minute.

“I should probably get going,” he said, startling you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t hear you,” you laughed lightly. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow? He wakes up from his nap around 2:30.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie headed to the door, and you followed. “I’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Eds.”

“Bye.”

You closed the door behind him, locking it. You’d be going to pick up Asher soon, but for now you’d sit in the peace and quiet. You leaned your back against the door, thinking that maybe things could be okay.

tag list

@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99 @richardsamboramylove55 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @allhailtheslothoverlord @micheledawn1975 @browneyes528 @costellation-hunter @taccobelle

[undying-love]

"The deal was, Lennon was actually under the table taking Polaroid pictures up the skirts of his female companions while Paul lent a hand. Ringo laughed at everything, and Paul’s then girlfriend, Jane Asher, was doing her best to drag him out of there. Paul was ducking under the table himself now, helping John illuminate the proceeding with his disposable lighter, and Jane was searching the booth for her coat as we approached them, with Graham in the lead.

-"I’ll be leaving now, Paul. I’m going home. And I don’t mean your home." She made her way toward the exit as we walked up in a pack. Jim Tucker actually grabbed her army to stop her en route. -"Hey, Miss Asher. Hi. My name is Jim Tucker and I worked with your brother.” He extended his hand, only to have her push him away. -"Piss off, wanker!" Jane just blew him off and brushed past us on her way out of the club. Jim stood there examining his hand for a long moment. -“Jane! Jane! Aw, come on, baby. We’re just having a little fun.” Jane kept walking.

— Howard Kaylan, Jeff Tamarkin, Shell Shocked: My Life with the Turtles, Flo and Eddie, and Frank Zappa etc

[porterdavis]

Facts are stubborn things

Don't believe the MAGA/Fox fear-mongering

Graphic - F.B.I., via Jeff Asher

[felxxwiw]

S0m3 muff1ns f0r t34 :3

[knightofleo]

TRA​И​Ƨ​A by Red Hot Org

"Storied activist and music production non-profit Red Hot presents its latest project, TRAИƧA out November 22nd. With production beginning in 2021, and over 100 artists contributing, TRAИƧA marks one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken by Red Hot - a spiritual journey across 8 chapters and 46 songs, spotlighting the gifts of many of the most daring, imaginative trans and non-binary artists working today. It softens the edges of the world we know, and invokes powerful dreams of the futures that might one day thunder from its cracks. The album's instantly memorable cover speaks to the tension between nature and constructed environments, and the tension of transness in the western gender binary."

Adrianne Lenker, Ahya Simone, Alan Sparhawk (Low), Allison Russell, Am Taylor, Anajah, André 3000, Ana Roxanne, Anjimile, ANOHNI, Arthur Baker, Asher White, AV Maria, Babehoven, Bartees Strange, Belina Rose, Benét, Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Bill Callahan, Blake Mills, Bloomsday, Calvin Lauber, Caroline Rose, Cassandra Croft, Cassandra Jenkins, Ceyenne Doroshow, Christian Lee Hutson, Claire Rousay, Clairo, CLARITY, Cole Pulice, Devendra Banhart, Dirty Projectors, Eileen Myles, Eli Winter, Elizabeth Glenn-Copeland, Ezra Furman, Faye Webster, Fleet Foxes, Frank Cosmos, Gary Gunn, Gia Margaret, Green-House, Grouper, Hand Habits, Heart Shaped, Helado Negro, Hunter Schafer, Imara Jones, Jamal Shakeri, Jay Dee Daugherty, Jayne County, Jeff Tweedy, Jlin, Joy Guidry, Julianna Barwick, Julie Byrne, Julien Baker, Kara Jackson, Kathi Wilcox, Kb Borins, Kelela, L'rain, Laaraji, Laura Jane Grace, Lauren Auder, Lee Ranaldo, Lightning Bug, Lomelda, Lucy Liyou, Lynn Avery, Lyra Pramuk, Mary Lattimore, Mizu, Mojo Disco, Moor Mother, More Eaze, Moses Sumney, Nico Georis, Nina Keith, Niecy Blues, Nsámbu Za Suékama, Quinn Christopherson, Pepper Mashay, Perfume Genius, Pharoah Sanders, Rachika Nayar, Sade, Sam Smith, Sharon Van Etten, SOAK, Soft Rōnin, SKY, SPARKLE DIVISION (William Basinski), Taryn Blake Miller, Teddy Geiger, Time Wharp, Wendy & Lisa, Yaeji, Yaya Bey

[darkpeacemusic]

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕪𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤: 𝔽𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤

Jeff the Killer - Jeffrey "Jeff" Alan Dan Woods

Homicidal Liu - Liuis "Liu" Victoria Woods

Sully - Sullivan "Sully" Akira Woods

Randy - Randall "Randy" Allen Warren

Keith - Keith Harvey Davis-Green

Troy - Troy John Green

Ben Drowned - Benjamin "Ben" Scott Lawman

Jane - Jane Todd Richardson-Vaughn

Mary - Mary Annabelle Vaughn

Ticci Toby - Tobias "Toby" Erin Rogers

Masky - Timothy "Tim" Buck Wright

Hoodie - Brian Hunter Thomas

Skully - Jay Gabriel Merrick

Kate the Chaser - Kate Eleanor Milens-Hayes

Charlie - Charles Matheson Jr.

Laughing Jack - Laughing Jack in a Box

Eyeless Jack - Jackson "Jack" Nicky Nyras

Slenderman - Simon (middle and last name unknown) (Human name prior to his experimentation/death)

Splendorman - Jim (Human name prior to his experimentation/death)

Trenderman - Beau (Human name prior to his experimentation/death)

Tenderman - Cedric (Human name prior to his experimentation/death)

Sally - Sally Maryam Dawn (formerly Williams)

Dr Smiley - Azerael Jesse Smiley

Nurse Ann - Annie "Ann" Lusen Mia

Nina - Nina Selene Hopkins

Candy Pop - Unknown

Candy Cane - Unknown

April Fools - Unknown

Jason the Toymaker - Jason Caleb Meyer

The Puppeteer - Jonathan Cole Blake

Clockwork - Natalie Priscilla Ouellette

Rouge - Heather Bridget Marshall

Wilson - Wilson Liam Marshall (neé Jones)

Zalgo - Z͠a̛'l͘ga̶t҉ot̡h

Queen Blackheart (oc) - Elizabeth Cindy Phillips (name prior to death)

Lazari - Lazari Natalie Swann

Stripes - Eloise Sarah Bellarose (name prior to her death)

Nathan - Nathan Maxwell Lux

Bloody Painter - Helen Delilah Otis

Kagekao - Unknown

Laughing Jill - Laughing Jill in a Box

Sadie - Sadie Marie Bennett

Hobo Heart - Unknown

Cat Hunter - Rodrigo Milo Ortiz

Chris the Revenant - Christine "Chris" Wendy Meyers

X-Virus - Cody Larkin Drake

Dollmaker - Erina Jezebel Kerenzalys

Frankie the Undead - Frankie Hades Asher (his real name prior to his death)

Judge Angels - Dina Angela Clark

Lifeless Lucy - Lucy Ava Jones

Lost Silver - Ethan Kin Fuji (his real name before his death)

Glitchy Red - Red (his real name remains a mystery)

Strangled Red - Steven Garrett Stoughton

Dr. Locklear - Evander Agnar Locklear

Lulu - Lucille "Lulu" Tiffany Greatfeil

Killing Kate - Katherine "Kate" Evelyn Knight

Screaming Dawn (oc) - Dawn Evelyn Woods

Will Grossman - William "Will" Gordon Grossman

Lulling Lauren - Lauren Robyn Ross (neé Evans)

CR - Carl Morton Ross

Emra - Emra Amelia Blake (neé Albridge)

Zero - Alice Marie Jackson

Slendrina - Charlotte (first name prior to death/experimentation)

Lily - Lily May Kennett

Nightmare Ally - Adeline "Ally" Ashley Abendroth

Zachary the Proxy - Zachary Julius Gibson

Oliver - Oliver Gorgon Henderson

Alex Kralie - Alexander "Alex" Joseph Kralie

Amy - Amy Callie Walters

Jessica - Jessica Ellie Locke

Seth - Seth Apollo Reid-Wilson (neé Wilson)

Sarah - Sarah Cassie Reid-Wilson (neé Ried)

Third Base - Richard "Doby" Vincent Doggers

Vailly - Vailly Suki Evans

[burnttoast-deaddreams]

Update i guess?

Ran into Noah a few times, he invited me over for some snacks and coffee, im surprised he could even see me but that was nice.

Also ran into someone named Milo? It seemed like a nice.. thing?? Spirit?? Something.

On a different note; i absolutely HATE cameras. Whenever i see one near me, i just corrupt the fuck out of it, but if i can get close enough; i just try and push it out their hands. I do however seem to induce coughing fits.. That sucks.

[jeffery-emh-pregnant]

Cant do any digital art rn since im @ school, but take this Jeff x Mildew doodle i did in class 4 now!!:3c

~SCRINIARII