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briarberrythornedhart · 2 months ago

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Gone Fishin’

18 plus or DNI

Contains: Sitcom energy, RoNance, Eventual implied Steddie x reader, Matchmaker!Eddie, Eddie & Robin Friendship, Eddie and Mike brother/bully dynamic, discussion of period typical homophobia in late 1980��s, no homophobic acts tho, spicy discussion but no actual smut

“Why are you smiling like that?” Robin asked.

Eddie adjusted his Family Video name tag and boosted himself up to sit on the counter next to the register. He leaned toward Robin, pointing at his face. “Smiling like what? Like this?? This here?”

Robin batted some of his long wavy hair out of her face.

Still grinning like a Cheshire Cat on edibles, He laid right down on his back. A long leg dangling on each side of the counter - sprawled out on top of Robin's order paperwork that was due this morning. He sighed and stretched in apparent satisfaction.

“Eddie, c’mon, less of your disruptive shenanigans would be appreciated today.”

Eddie huffed a laugh and rolled himself back up in order to push off the counter with a little hop.

Robin continued to berate him. “You have been smiling all crazy-like since you showed up. And you're everywhere while also simultaneously Not Actually Doing any Work??? I don’t want to complain about your mood because you’ve been a morose and moribund guy of late so this is a positive change, but today…What specifically gives? ‘Cause you are being a complete menace.”

“Someone is... maybe coming to visit the store today. To bring me lunch. Someone who said when I smile it makes her want to sit on my face.* So I thought I should be ready with generous smiles.” Eddie propped an elbow on the counter and leaned his cheek on his hand, smirking at the world.

“Oh my gawd, why would you tell me that?!?” Robin rubbed her eyes with her palms.

“I thought we were close friends now? Friends share things.” Eddie sounded hurt. But his big brown eyes were still shining.

“Tell Steve the details, you guys can bond over your slutty sex lives…”

“Excuse moi, but I am a one-man woman. That’s not slutty.”

“It’s slutty that you keep bragging out loud about it in public.”

“C’mon Rob, let me have this, it’s been a year since anyone even looked my way. And this gal does way more than look.” Eddie clocked that Robin had one eyebrow very raised in ‘closeted lesbian annoyance. “You know what, let’s find you a nice girl…”

“Will you shut your big-damn-mouth, someone might hear!!”

“No one is in the store, Rob. Look around. And anyway - they should grow up. It’s almost the 90’s for Crissake. Love is love and Lesbians are cool. It’s like Harrington says ‘Everyone loves...”

Robin clapped a hand over Eddie’s yap. “Everyone does not love the b-word that rhymes with tubes. This is a family establishment, Eds. It’s in the name above the door.”

Eddie nodded slowly. She let him go but he immediately popped off with, ”Sure - Everyone doesn’t like the same things, but the selection in the back room suggests common themes. And for the record, I was gonna say the t-word that rhymes with ‘kits’, not ‘boobies’.”

Robin let out a half-laugh half-groan. “That’s not better... ugh....You are impossible.”

“I know, I really am.” Eddie was positively glowing. “So, what we need to do is widen the net for you.”

“Whut??” Robin searched for her pen, she’d had it a moment before!!

Eddie pulled it gently from behind her ear and handed it to her unceremoniously.

“This town is too small to meet Out lesbian chicks or bisexually-leaning chicks, so we need to get you to Indy. Rick says there is a lesbian bar there. We can go this weekend. Keith’s on schedule for Sunday, so...”

“I’m not going to a...” Robin dropped her voice to a whisper, although it didn’t appear that there were any customers in the store. “Lesbian bar with you.”

Eddie gasped in actual hurt surprise. “Why the hell not?”

“Because... I dunno... it’s a Bad Idea tm.”

“Look, if you don’t want to go with me, that’s fine, I’m very hurt, but that’s fine - I know the perfect wingman for you.... Or wingwoman, to be more accurate.”

“Eds. Please. Pleeeease. I need to finish this paperwork and I need you to clean the restroom, can we just focus on work right now??”

“You think this job is more important than love??” Eddie gave her serious side-eye. He hopped over the counter instead of walking to the gate for the register area. He picked up the store phone.

“You, yourself, swore love was naught but bullshit, just last week.” Robin pointed out.

“Wellll...I was full of shit. And I hadn’t found love yet.” Eddie typed something into the computer and then began dialing the phone. “Hey Mikey, Is your sister around? Yes. Nancy, why would I want to talk with your baby-sister??? No. NO. Don’t put her on… Hi.... hi there Holly, how are you? Yeah, I’m fine too. Can you please get your Sister for me? Thank you.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Nancy isn’t gonna want to go...” Robin hissed.

“Hiya Wheeler, can you punch your brother for me? Thanks. No, that’s not why I called...... Okay, soooo... Can you take Robin to Indy this weekend to a bar to meet nice girls?” Eddie tapped out a drum solo on the top of the register. ”Yes? Yeah, I know a specific bar.....Yes? you will? Great. Thank you. Yeah, I know. She does..... You’re a peach, you know that?”

Eddie hung up the phone and smiled again - all benevolence, and bowed. “Thou art welcome.”

“Do I get even A LITTLE choice about this?” Robin asked, head in her hands. “I mean it is MY Life, and stuff, but do I get any say??”

“No, you don’t. It’s for your own good.” Eddie said in a tone that brooked no argument.

*For the record, this is not specifically what you said. You said something more romantic about kissing him all over and he heard what he wanted to hear. He does that. It’s cute, though.

----

1 week later, back at Family Video

----

“I blame you.” Steve poked Eddie dead center of his chest. “This is all because of your meddling.”

“I know you feel some kinda way about your ex and your best friend dating, but you need to put on your big boy pants about it, Harrington. It was meant to be.”

“No, it’s fine, that is fine, I mean, Robin put in her 2 weeks and they are going to France together and talking about getting an apartment near Emerson college.... and a dog when they get back. Already. Last month Nance said she wasn’t ready to settle down and now this?? And Robin doesn’t have time for me at all anymore....”

“I have time for you.” Eddie batted his eyelashes at Steve.

“Don’t. Seriously, dude. You are busy all the time, too, with your perfect girlfriend and I’m once again begging you not to give me the specific details about your sex life, okay?”

“Okay... jeesus. I’ve not been that specific.”

“No you haven’t, it’s just that you are very happy and it’s obnoxious.” Steve was teasing a little. Eddie could hear the bitterness underneath. “She knows you flirt with everyone right? She’s cool with that?”

Eddie cleared his throat. “She knows I flirt with you and she’s cool with specifically that.”

“I guess that’s flattering? maybe??”

“You guys get along, though, right? I mean, she thinks you are great.” Eddie asked.

“Yes, she’s very... great, too, and I’m happy for you. Just please don’t tell me I need to widen the net, I know the sea is full of nice fish - I am sick and tired of meeting chicks from far far away and trying to make long distance work.”

Eddie took a deep breath, rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. “Actually, I was thinking maybe you ought to look closer at your options here. Locally.”

“How locally? I think I may have overfished this particular pond.”

“Very very local.” Eddie licked his upper lip and nudged Steve in the upper arm. “Maybe just expand your horizons a bit. Here??”

“And you’ll set me up on some blind date and it will be a nightmare...”

“Not a blind date... just something you might need to be more open-minded about.”

“If I get any more open-minded, my brain will fall out. Do you mean dudes? Cause I think I might be open to that, I just don’t want any more one night stands, you know??”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, I guess, yeah.”

“Then let’s go out. Tonight.”

“What about your girl...”

“With my girl. Potentially, our girl?”

“Oh? Oh!”

—-

#sitcom version stranger things #ronance #steddie x reader #eddie Munson & Robin Buckley friendship

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usafphantom2 · 7 months ago

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‘Greatest Show on Turf’ – Warbird Night Engine Run at Geneseo

Tom Pawlesh

Thom Richard in his P-40 American Dream, and Lou Horschel in his FG-1D Corsair flying formation for Tom Pawlesh. Photo by Tom Pawlesh

By Tom Pawlesh The National Warplane Museum (NWM) held its annual “Greatest Show on Turf” airshow on July 13 and 14, 2024 in Geneseo, New York. Although this show has a small-town feel, there are always a large number of warbirds in attendance. This is an “open” airshow, meaning the spectators can walk along the flight line see the aircraft up close, and talk with the pilots. With today’s security concerns, the intimacy of this airshow is a breath of fresh air from a bygone era.

Rob Holland in ihs Extra 300, Thom Richard in his TP-40N American Dream, and Lou Horschel in his FG-1D Corsair flying formation for Tom Pawlesh and other aviation photographers in a air to air photoshoot organized by Mike Killian.

With the growing popularity of night engine-run photography sessions, the NWM joined the growing number of airshows that offer this type of event. Aerospace Photojournalist Mike Killian was in charge of the event while pilot/photographer Tom Pawlesh provided the lighting. Not to be outdone by any airshow, the NWM fielded an impressive ten aircraft for the evening. First up was Skipper Hyle in his Stearman followed by the Fokker Dr.I and Dr.VII run by J. B. Aldred and Ruben Alconero, respectively. The NWM’s C-47 Whiskey 7 and the Tunison Foundation’s Placid Lassie, both World War II veterans, were next followed by Thom Richard’s TP-40N American Dream and Scott Yoak’s P-51D Quick Silver. Lou Horschel did a solo run-up in the Corsair and folded/unfolded the wings twice for the photographers. The evening finished with the T-6s of Steve & Juliet Lindrooth and David Steele.

It was a memorable evening that left photographers very happy. We can’t thank the pilots and ground crew enough. It is because of them that this event was such a success. The National Warplane Museum is dedicated to the preservation and display of significant historical and military aircraft and artifacts for the benefit and education of the public. They honor United States veterans for their service and sacrifice. For more information, visit www.nationalwarplanemuseum.com

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starfirewildheart · 1 year ago

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Chapter 9

Scars and Souvenirs

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 1784

Rating: mentions of war; being a POW, death and animal abuse. Nothing graphic I promise but if the fic continues (if y'all like it) I'll add warnings for each chapter.

Sy walked over to where the kid was still giving the cop hell and struggling against Debbie's help. He forced the boy down in a chair then got in this face. He spoke in a calm but commanding tone. “Stop struggling before you hurt yourself worse than you already are.”

“You new here? This ain't over by a long shot,” he huffed but stopped his struggle.

“I'm not a cop,” Sy explained. “What's your name?”

“Screw you,” the kid snapped.

“Little prick never changes,” the officer rolled his eyes. When Sy cut him a menacing look he walked out of the squad room.

Deb opened the first aid kit and approached him again. “My name is Debbie and this is Sy. What's your name?”

“Screw you.”

Sy popped the boy in the back of the head. “You will be respectful to her. You understand?” He growled.

“Owe, yea ok,” he squirmed, wanting to rub the back of his head but unable to because of the cuffs.

“She asked you your name.”

“Mike, my name is Mike.”

“Well Mike, I'm going to clean you up a bit, alright?” Deb asked.

“Whatever,” Mike huffed.

Debbie cleaned him up and put a bandage on the cut on his head before popping an instant ice pack and holding it to his eye.

Walt stomped back into the room still pissed off. “Are you ok Mike?”

“Peachy,” he snarked. “Sweet cheeks here fixed me up. See?”

“Sweet cheeks?” Deb asked, arching her brow at him.

Walt sighed before taking Mike to a holding cell. “I don't get it kid. I gave you a chance last time and you're back here again for theft.”

“I just can't get enough of you, Marshall.” He pretended to swoon, falling back on the cot in his cell.

“Fuckin smartass,” Walt growled before leaving him to go back to the squad room.

“What's with the kid?” Sy asked Walt as he was walking them out of the station.

“Petty theft, B & E, public intox, truancy, fighting, terroristic threatening, smart assed kid.” Walt explained. “I've tried to give him a chance but he just keeps blowing it.”

“What about his parents?” Sy inquired.

“I've met his old man once. He's a piece of work for sure. Runs a pawn shop here in town when he's not passed out from drinkin.”

“What's going to happen to Mike now?” Deb asked.

“Normally I would say he'd go to juvi but after Gains roughed him up I don't know. He's still got charges against him for robbing Samuelson's Market a couple weeks ago,” Walt told her.

Sy opened the truck door for her and shook his head. “I know that look. What are you thinkin darlin' ?”

“Maybe he needs some time working on a farm. Sort of like community service but with safety and food and a good role model,” She bit her lip. “Maybe he needs someone to care about him?”

“Or maybe he's just a little prick who's old man doesn't care enough to rein him in?” Walt crossed his arms over his chest. He'd lost faith in people years ago. The world was bad and so were most of its people.

Sy looked between the two of them. One’s face was hopeful, the other disbelieving and he was somewhere in the middle. He could understand Mike acting out with an alcoholic, possibly abusive father and no one to care for him. He looked at Deb. “So you think he's robbing places because he's hungry?”

“And needs things, yea,” She nodded.

Sy crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Deb looked at both of the big, intimidating men standing side by side staring her down and started to fidget. She felt like a kid who was in trouble. When Sy reached out and took her hand she gasped. He would never hurt her, she knew that but the moment had been so intense it startled her. Neither man said anything as she was pulled along back into the station. “What are we doing “

“Rescuing a new colt for you to rehabilitate,” Sy smirked.

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Nearly three months had passed since they had convinced the chief to let them take on a work probation for Mike, then they had to go to court with him so the attorney could convince the judge it was a good idea. Once everyone was in agreement they had to get Mike's dad to agree.

Mitch Holmes, Mike's father, was a real piece of work. He didn't give a damn about his son but he would spend hours gushing about how they were distant relatives of ‘The’ Sherlock Holmes. Walter went with a counselor to talk to him about Mike and he said the living conditions were horrible. Very little food in the house, roaches everywhere and there were bars on the windows to Mike's room and a lock on the outside of his door.

Walt unleashed on the police that had been on Mike's case before he had gotten to town. Demanded to know why no one had investigated before now. No one ever even made an effort to check on the kid.

While all of that was going on Sy, Walter and Debbie had been setting up video surveillance and listening devices on the S17. Once they started getting data Deb spent a lot of time pouring over it for pertinent information then handing it over to Sy and Walter so they could track shipments and buyers.

Sy yawned and scrubbed his hands over his face. Between work, court and the ranch they were all exhausted. He stood up from his desk in the shared office the department had given them for the investigation and walked over behind Deb. She was sitting with one foot up in the chair and the other on the floor as she read over endless transcripts. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “We need a break, sugar. Let's go get some food. I'm craving steak,” he rumbled against her neck.

She reached up and lightly ran her nails over his head grinning when he almost purred. “Steak sounds wonderful and French fries.”

He kissed her neck and rubbed his short, scruffy beard against her skin loving the way it made her squeak and squirm. “God I love you.”

Deb smiled as she stood up in front of him pressing her body against his. “Love you too baby. More than anything in this world.” Tilting her head up she pressed a kiss to his lips which he quickly deepened. His tounge sought entry into her mouth while his hands slid down her back to grip her ass and press her even tighter to him.

The office door opened and Walter walked in looking down at some papers in his hand. “talked to th…” he stopped when he saw them kissing and blushed. “Sorry I..” he started backing out the door.

Sy smirked and Deb chuckled at him. He was a big, tough cop but so shy and reserved about a lot of things. He and Sy fell right back into that close brother relationship almost instantly. Walt had a shitty childhood and Sy did all he could back then to protect him. They had a bond closer than any blood family had ever been. They were battle buddies. Deb and Walt had gotten close as a result as well and the three of them spent a lot of time bonding too.

Deb gave Sy another soft kiss before pushing away from him and waking toward the door and Walter. “We're going to dinner.”

“Ok. I'll see you tomorrow ,” Walt nodded.

Deb stopped in front of him and shook her head. “Clock out detective grumpy.”

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Sy, Walt and Deb were all sitting at their table drinking a beer and waiting on their food at the local bar and grill when someone tripped into Debbie's chair causing her beer to slosh all over her. She jumped to her feet trying to brush it off as she eyed the blonde woman.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” She gasped.

Debbie looked at her but just forced a smile. “It's OK. It was an accident. No harm done.” She excused herself to go clean up.

“I'm sorry again,” the blonde smirked, winking conspitorily at a woman sitting at the bar before leaving.

When Deb came back from the restroom she saw a woman rubbing up against Sy. He was telling her to leave him alone and that he wasn't interested but she reached down and pawed at his cock grinding her hand against him almost painfully. Deb snatched her by the hair pulling her away from Sy. “What the fuck do you think your doing? Lindi?” She growled.

“Let me go you bitch!” She struggled in Debbie's tight grip.

“He said no and you didn’t listen. Now you'll deal with me,” She growled as she dragged her outside to the parking lot.

“Oh fuck,” Sy and Walt said at the same time quickly following them.

“You will keep your hands off what belongs to me,” Debbie warned her.

“He doesn't belong to you! He's not married to you,” Lindi sneered. “You've been together for five years and he's never committed. He's just fuckin you until he finds the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with!”

The words stung more than she cared to admit and it pissed her off even more. “Maybe, but I know one thing for sure. It's not you!”

Lindi lashed out at Debbie which she quickly realized was a mistake. Deb tackled her to the ground and started wailing on her. Lindy was screaming and begging for her to stop, apologizing and swearing she'll never touch Sy again. Deb didn't slow down; she just kept swinging.

“Ok, enough,” Sy bent down and wrapped his arms around Debbie's waist and pulled her off of Lindi. “Alright sweetheart, enough,” he soothed. She struggled against him and he wrapped her up tighter. “Enough,” he growled in her ear. She stilled for a moment before shoving away from him and trying to walk away. He pulled her back and pinned her against a nearby truck. “Calm down sugar,” he rumbled.

Walter knelt down and checked on Lindi. Her nose was busted, lip bleeding and her eye was already swelling. “You learn to keep your hands to yourself? “

“I want to press charges!” Lindi demanded.

“You have that right but you started this and there are witnesses to this. So she will press charges as well and this will go to a judge. Are you sure that's what you want to do?”

She got to her feet and glared at Walter before storming off.

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@mrsevans90

@summersong69

@mollymal

@warriormirkwood

@bloodyinspiredme

@kneelforloki

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson fluff #syverson x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill characters #syverson

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 years ago

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i'm outta my head over you Pt. 6

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | AO3 | playlist

ok, i really love this one; i hope you guys do too!

today's @steddie-week prompts are: together and Hold the Line - TOTO

C’mon, Munson, get your shit together. You’re the music guy here!’ He tells himself. Okay yeah, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s great about expressing feelings. ‘ That’s what the music’s for, dumbass. ’

Eddie spends the rest of the night and into the next morning pouring over what other songs he could add to the B side of Steve’s tape (and what songs he’s gonna use for the Party Tape…he’s gotta have a blank tape around here somewhere…).

He has a couple contenders, he just doesn’t quite know how they fit yet. Steve had a reason or an explanation for each song on his side, so Eddie wants to do the same. Only problem is that the songs that already do remind him of Steve, are ones Steve’s already put onto the A side.

Fuck, has he been telling him his feelings all this time? The first half of Steve’s side of the tape were his go-to songs whenever they’ve hung out together, while Eddie was recovering at his house.

He goes to sleep that morning with a handful of possibilities, but nothing concrete, then is awoken just before lunch by his phone ringing.

“Shit,” Eddie hops up groggy and disoriented with sleep, but scrabbles down the hall to the phone so Wayne doesn’t wake up.

“Munson residence, the fuck d’ya want?”

“Eddie! Ste– Ok, rude.”

“Rob? What’s up, Birdie?” Eddie scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Steve’s coming back a day early!” Eddie’s hand freezes. “Do you have the tape done??”

“N-no, no I only have three fuckin songs on it! Damn it, I thought you said he was coming back tomorrow!”

“Hence the call telling you he’s coming back early. He’s landing in Indy at noon, will be here by 3, and somehow Dustin’s already found out so now I’m roping you into ferrying Steve’s children to the arcade with us after he’s back.”

“Hey, they’re my children too!” Wait, what? “Wait, I didn’t say that. Why’d I say that? I don’t even want kids.”

“Nope, too bad. You already said it. You and Steve have joint custody of the shitheads.”

“We’re divorced now?”

“You were married in the first place?” Robin snarks back then mumbles, “Didn’t I just have this conversation?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You coming with or what?”

“No, Buck, I gotta finish his tape now!”

“Too bad, you’re coming. And I’m going to tell Henderson you are so he won’t let you back out.”

“Robin don’t you dare-”

What is with her and hanging up on him??

He’d just gotten back to his bedroom door when the phone rings again. Just barely stopping himself from screaming, he goes back to the handset.

“Hello..?”

“Dude. Would it kill you to sound excited?.”

“Henderson, your sarcasm is not appreciated this early in the morning. And why would I be excited about being volun told to pickup you hellions for the arcade?”

“‘Cause you like spending time with your friends, maybe? Now, do you and Max wanna come pick up me and Lucas? Steve will pick up Will and El at theirs, and pick up Robin and Mike on his way.”

“Sounds like you’ve already got everything planned out, Dusty.”

“Your exasperation is not appreciated this late in the morning.”

“...I don’t have to come, you know.”

“But you know you wanna.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. See you at 2:30.”

Just once , Eddie’d like to be the one hanging up on someone else.

Whatever. Looks like he’s got plans this afternoon.

Eddie looks at the clock on the wall above the fridge. Four hours. Now, does he nap, or does he eat and start getting ready?

They’ll probably grab pizza while they’re at the arcade…nap it is.

Eddie wanders back to his room and is out as soon as his head hits his pillow.

—

Miraculously, he wakes up exactly two and half hours later; just enough time for a shower and to get ready before picking up his half the goblins.

He showers, scrunches a majority of the water out of his curls (Steve’d shown him that little trick, would start on about “Eddie, we went over this! You gotta take care of your curls!" and, "They’re so gorgeous and you’re soooo handsome and hot and I totally wanna pull that hair when I fuc—” OKAY maybe that last part was just wishful thinking, but Steve’d definitely have a conniption if he shows up today with flat hair), and gets dressed.

From the extra spluttering their feeble A/C is doing, and the not-at-all refreshing breeze that crawls through his window when opened, Eddie can confirm that it’s definitely too fuckin’ hot out.

He pulls on his most ripped, well loved pair of black jeans, the holes in the knees long since flayed mid-thigh to mid-shin, a sleeveless cropped Metallica shirt, and his vest.

Grabbing up his rings and chain, he leaves a note for Wayne as to where he’s gone, slides his feet into his reeboks, and heads out the door, keys in hand.

He’s just got the back end of his chain hooked around his hip when he makes it to Max’s door.

“Y’ready Red?”

“Just a minute! It’s unlocked!” she calls back through the door (and slightly cracked window over her sink)

“Need any help?” he asks, closing the front door behind him.

“Nope, just gotta get my other shoe on and I’ll be good. Did you bring the van over?”

“I…did not. That’d probably be a good idea, huh?”

Whoops. He spins back around and jogs back across the street to hop in his van. By time he’s parked outside the Mayfield trailer, Max is hopping her wheels over the threshold onto the tiny step outside the door.

“Whatcha want me to do?” He’d learned real quick not to just start doing things for her, no matter how much he assumes they’d help. Max did not like anyone thinking they have to help her with every little thing, so now they all make sure to ask what it is she’d like them to help with before doing it.

“I just need to lock the door and you can help me into the van. You’ll probably have to come back for the chair though.”

“Of course, your highness.” he gives her a low bow while she locks her front door. “Your hand please, m’lady.”

She rolls her eyes, but takes his hand.

Max is able to walk across flat areas pretty well and for an OK amount of distance before getting too tired, but the breaks to her leg really did a number on her.

She’s got steel pins all through her leg, and has just gotten out of her cast so she wants (and needs) to walk more often to get her strength back up, but has her chair to get around much easier.

So until she gets stronger, she needs help going up and down stairs, and will need help getting up into Eddie’s van, but should be okay for a while once at the arcade.

Once she’s settled, Eddie goes back for her chair, loads it into the back of his van, and they’re off to Henderson’s.

He and Lucas are already waiting out front when he pulls up.

“About time.”

“Dustin. It’s literally 2:31. Calm the fuck down.”

“You guys better get all your swearing out before you see Steve again, you know he’ll go all mom on you.” Lucas laughs. “Here, I’ll start. Hey Max, how the fuck are ya?”

They’re all in so Eddie starts off towards the arcade.

“Hey, show some fuckin’ respect for your mother, Sinclair.”

“Shit Eddie, didn’t know you were our goddamn father.”

“Of course he didn’t fuckin know, Steve hasn’t gotten his shit together enough to propose.”

“Damn, alright, calm down”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down! I swear, I’ll put my foot straight up your ass.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuckfuckfuck.”

All four bust out laughing at that, not quite able to catch their breath before one of them is saying some random curse.

They’re all red in the face from laughing so hard by time they pull into the parking lot between Steve’s beemer and Nancy’s station wagon.

Dustin runs in immediately after the van stops, and Eddie slyly leaves his keys with Lucas so he can lock up after helping Max, heading inside himself

Now, up until the exact moment he saw Steve (2 whole seconds ago), Eddie thought he was taking the whole “Steve Harrington has big sappy feelings for you” thing really well. Perfectly, in fact!

No freak out, no huge feelings of doubt, just full focus on ‘responding’ to him.

But now, seeing him again after finding this out…It’s a wonder he doesn’t collapse.

This beautiful, perfect, amazing man standing in front of a whole herd of teens (two of whom are at eye level or taller than he is now) with a scolding glare, hands on his hips, and flanked by the two most badass ladies he knows…wants him.

Eddie Munson.

It still doesn’t seem real.

Eddie immediately wants to be simultaneously on the other side of the planet, and wedged so close to him that they’re basically the same person.

“Pizza in an hour and a half!” Steve yells after the herd as they disperse. Even Robin and Nancy head off toward the skee-ball machines.

“You okay big boy? You look like that trip took a lot outta you.”

‘Wow, nice one. You just got here and you’re asking him why he looks gross? Great job, Doofus.’ Why does his inner voice sound like Robin?

He looks over, and Eddie sees his face light up. “Eddie!” he breathes, pulling him into a tight hug.

Steve lets him go, and reaches up to rake through his travel-mussed hair. “And yeah, it was fine, always nice to see my grandparents.”

“Yeah, Robin mentioned you needing to go over their will or something? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re—“ he cuts himself off with a half-hearted chuckle, “They wanted to meet with my parents and I to let them know that their estate is being split 50/50 between us when they pass. Like, half to me and half to both of them.”

“Damn. It’s nice to know I’m marrying into money.” Eddie jokes, leaning into Steve’s side to whisper: “Max spilled your secret on the way here; I promise to act surprised when you finally get the guts to propose.” he whispers with a wink.

Steve’s face turns bright red, but he smiles all goofy. Fuck, he’s cute.

“Aw shit, I really wanted it to be a surprise.” He says, his voice getting gravelly with how low he’s speaking.

It most definitely does not make Eddie flush red himself, nor do his jeans start feeling tighter, thank you.

Steve gently pushes Eddie back, his hand lingering on the back of his arm a moment too long before his fingers trail down and off his elbow. He starts again, back at a normal volume. “But yeah, Richard and Denise were not happy; I was surprised, though. I’m really appreciative that my grandparents would do that for me.”

“Okay, so it was good news! Why the…” Eddie gestures to all of him. “…glum.”

“It was just the plane ride man, I flew from Cali to Indy with a screaming baby next to me. It was hell let me tell you.”

“I bet.” Eddie winces.

“Plus, Robin stole my favorite tape while I was gone so I couldn't even listen to it on the way here. And that’s been like, the soundtrack to my life lately. Felt weird coming home and then not having it in my car already.” he shakes his head “I dunno, it's dumb, but they are my favorite songs.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie nods, his heart in his throat. “Can't you just like, go get it back from her house?”

“She’s ‘gotta find it’.” He sighs, throwing up air quotes around Robin’s flimsy excuse. “Which for her, is code for ‘I lost it.’. It's no big deal though, it’s just music.”

“Nah man, music is important, you can communicate a lot with it.”

Steve just shrugs again, a good ol’ ‘What can ya do?’ , so Eddie pats Steve’s shoulder sympathetically and walks over to the far wall of machines. He leans up against the one that Max is bashing away at and looks around the side, like he’s watching what she’s doing.

“What’re you doing over here? You’re not gonna beat my score, Munson.” she snarks from her perch on one of the arcade’s few padded stools.

“Huh?” He looks at the cabinet. Dig Dug. “Oh. Wouldn’t dream of it, Mad Max, just came over to try and look cool, scope out the scene,” ‘Scope out the scene’?? WHO ARE YOU?? “Don’t mind me.”

She just rolls her eyes, “For some reason, Steve already thinks you’re like the coolest guy in the world. You don’t need to fake it.”

Eddie blinks down at her. “OK, seriously, how do you know so much?”

“I dunno; something about losing one of my senses? Or maybe my brush with death left me wise beyond my years…” she sighs wistfully.

He snorts, “Oh yeah? Then I should be way smarter.”

“Yeah, you should be.” She fights to keep a straight face after that one. Damn that was slick.

“Good one, Red.” he pats her once on the shoulder, then goes back to watching her play. It’s actually pretty impressive being that she’s got brand new coke-bottle glasses she should be wearing.

“I’m not gonna wear ‘em. I look like a doofus when I do.”

“Aw, I thought you just said I was cool!” he pouts.

Her mouth twitches up at that. “No, I said Steve thinks you’re cool. I think you’re a Doofus.”

“Exactly! And if the big man himself thinks I’m cool, then you’d definitely be cool.” He leans in and looks around conspiratorially, “and I have it on good authority that the rest of these goblins think whatever he thinks is cool, is cool too.”

She smiles, and her game bleeps to an end. “Yeah, they all do think he’s like, the greatest ever.”

“And you don’t?”

Her face blushes a soft pink. “Shut up, Munson. How do you know so much?”

He stands up straight and grabs hold of his vest lapels like some stuffy professor. “I’m smart ‘cause I died,” he says in a haughty tone “...or something.”

A couple of unhinged barks of laughter burst out of her. “I’m gonna go with ‘or something’.”

Eddie spends the next hour trying to mess up the other shitheads’ games.

Smack a wrong button here, a poke under Dustin’s armpit there, general fuckery.

And every time he and Steve pass one another, there’s some sort of touch.

He didn’t notice it the first time, thinking Steve really did need to hold onto him while passing behind him. A classic midwestern “Ope, lemme just sneak by ya” just to get close to him.

When he looked back, there was no one at the cabinet behind him.

So Eddie gave it back tenfold the next time he encountered the party’s beloved babysitter.

Walked behind him on his way to where Mike and Lucas were now trying their hand at DigDug, and gently squeezed his hip.

Steve jumped about five feet, but it was worth it when Steve came up to his side later and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s lower back, settling his large palm briefly on the exposed skin of his hip and stomach where it peeked out from under the cropped shirt.

Eddie immediately felt the need to pull his hair up; Fuck is it hot in here?

Bun secured, and Steve gone off to bother Robin and Nancy at the air hockey table, Eddie knew what he was going to do next.

He left Wheeler and Sinclair to continue to lose to Max, heading toward the water fountain.

Steve’s standing with his back to Eddie’s path so when he passes, it’s just too easy to reach out, grab a lock of hair, and pull .

He’s rewarded with the sound of a poorly muffled moan (that he’ll be thinking about forever, thanks), and Steve is gifted an unobstructed view of his ass while he bends over to get a drink.

Eddie stands when he hears Steve’s panicked “Robin, can I talk to you a second?”

He comes back to take Robin’s place next to Nancy where they’d been playing two on one with Steve.

After a beat, Nancy says, “I hope you’re ready to have Robin as a permanent third wheel.” She’s still looking forward at the other end of the table.

Hah! That’s hilarious. “Won’t be as bad since you’re the fourth.” Eddie shrugs, then puts his fist out towards her, also looking off to where he can see Steve panicking at Robin.

Nancy’s knuckles knock into his, and he’s never felt closer to anyone in his life.

Only one half of the Harrington-Buckley twins come back, coming up to her girlfriend and linking their fingers behind the folds of Nancy’s skirt.

“Mama Harrington is getting the pizzas now; we’ll go get some tables pushed together, will you herd the cattle?”

“I feel like they’re more like cats. Especially that Max one, she’s got her claws out like, all the time.” Eddie says, half over his shoulder, as he heads off, hunting down the gremlins.

Mike and the elder Sinclair are still nowhere near Max’s high score, Dustin’s getting berated by baby Sinclair over how bad he’s doing at Donkey Kong, Will and El are together at the Polybius cabinet, Max in her chair now at El’s side.

‘ That’s all of them right? ’ Eddie counts them in his head while he looks around. Yep, that’s all of them.

He heads back to the little arcade pizzeria area, freezing in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the open arched doorway.

Every little thing he’s ever noticed about Steve Harrington over the last however many years feels like they’ve just been building to this moment.

Every damn day spent thinking he was the most beautiful person to ever grace the halls of Hawkins High (he is), every story he never believed about how badass he was from the mouth of his oldest adopted kid, every moment he spent shielding each of these people that have become so beloved in Eddie’s life.

Every painful scar, every dreadful day spent healing with Steve at his side, every. Single. Thing. Has built up to this one.

The most mundane of them all.

The nine most important people in his life, the biggest family he never wanted but now can’t even think about a life without them, sitting around three tiny tables and clamoring over one another for a slice of the pizzas in the middle of them all, being hovered over by Steeeeeve Harrington.

“Careful Mike, don’t put your elbow in Dustin’s face! That thing’s sharp…Max, do you want me to grab you some? What kind do you want? No, Ellie, sweetie, I’ll hand it to her, no powers needed today, okay? Will, which pop do you want, bud, you gotta speak up so Dustin doesn’t drink all the Vernors. Lucas, will you grab some more napkins—no arguments you little shits, everyone needs napkins. Erica, are you good? Okay, good. Ed—where’s Eddie, he needs to eat too…”

Oh.

Part 7 here!

yes, i did have the wonder twins playing Polybius.

also, mayfield/munson sibling vibes are so important to meeeeee.

also also, i love max getting adopted by steddie just as much as dustin BUT you cannot tell me she doesn't also have just a lil' crush on steeb.

tagging the lovelies: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium

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filmjunky-99 · 23 days ago

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t h e b i r d c a g e, 1996 🎬 dir. mike nichols

'We've been robbed.' - albert

'Albie, no. I've just taken a few things out. They'll be returned by the time you're back.' - val

'Back? Where am l going?' - albert

#gay cinema #gay movies #the Birdcage #the birdcage 1996 #mike nichols #robin williams #nathan lane #hank azaria #Armand Goldman #Albert Goldman #Agador Spartacus #The Goldmans

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 1 year ago

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The Most Attractive 90s Musician tournament - Round 1

GROUP A (over)

Match 1 - Geddy Lee vs Alanis Morisette

Match 2 - Brett Anderson vs Shirley Manson

Match 3 - KD Lang vs Kat Bjelland

Match 4 - Jarvis Cocker vs Mike Starr

Match 5 - Donita Sparks vs Matt Bellamy

Match 6 - Mike McCready vs Mike Dirnt

Match 7 - Zack de la Rocha vs Selena Quintanilla

Match 8 - Melissa auf der Maur vs Adam Horovitz

GROUP B (over)

Match 1 - Sean Kinney vs Mariah Carey

Match 2 - Rivers Cuomo vs Flea

Match 3 - Lauryn Hill vs Atsushi Sakurai

Match 4 - Shania Twain vs Dave Mustaine

Match 5 - Bilinda Butcher vs Whitney Houston

Match 6 - Dave Navarro vs Powerline

Match 7 - Dolores O'Riordan vs Missy Elliott

Match 8 - Janet Jackson vs Hope Sandoval

GROUP C (over)

Match 1 - Madonna vs Marty Friedman

Match 2 - Serj Tankian vs Prince

Match 3 - Tumblr anon vs Keanu Reeves

Match 4 - D'arcy Wretzky vs Kirk Hammett

Match 5 - Scott Stapp vs Martin Gore

Match 6 - Rachel Goswell vs Krist Novoselic

Match 7 - James Iha vs Tupac Shakur

Match 8 - Liam Gallagher vs Ville Valo

GROUP D (ongoing)

Match 1 - Patricia Morrison vs Chuck Schuldiner

Match 2 - Michael Stipe vs Michael Hutchence

Match 3 - Jason Newsted vs Mike Inez

Match 4 - Axl Rose vs Alex James

Match 5 - Kim Deal vs Tracy Chapman

Match 6 - Rob Halford vs Eric Martin

Match 7 - Henry Rollins vs Jay Kay

Match 8 - Chino Moreno vs Stephen Malkmus

ROUND 2 GROUP A PROPAGANDA SUBMISSION

Mini brackets and games:

Battle of the Mikes

previous tournament results <3 congratulations Tidal!

#most attractive 90s musician #masterpost #tournament #round 1

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ourshadowstallerthanoursoul · 1 year ago

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An audience with... John Paul Jones

(from Uncut, April 2010 - link)

You’re stuck on a deserted island, you have one instrument you can bring. It is: a) piano, b) bass or c) mandolin? (Gary Attersley, Ontario, Canada)

Oh… that’s horrible! I’ll probably get Hugh Manson – the guy who builds all my bass guitars – to build me some monstrous instrument that encapsulated all three! Hugh and his brother Andy Manson once actually designed me a triple-necked guitar with 12-string guitar, six-string guitar and mandolin on it! Andy also designed a triple-necked mandolin. But I guess if it really came down to it on a desert island, it would have to be the piano, because you can do so much on it. You’re a whole band. The bass is not much fun on your own.

John, it’s so good to see you so engaged with today. Any advice for old farts who can’t move on? (Andrew Loog Oldham)

Who are you calling an old fart? I dunno, Andy, you tell me! Ha ha. He’s done a good job of staying up to date. Andrew, of course, gave me the name John Paul Jones. I was John Baldwin, until Andrew saw a poster for the French film version of John Paul Jones. I thought it ’d look great in CinemaScope, as I wanted to do music for films. I imagined it saying “Music By John Paul Jones”, over the whole screen. I never realised then that he was the Horatio Nelson of America!

I know that you’ve been getting heavily into bluegrass lately – who are some of your favourite bluegrass artists of all time? (Ryan Godek, Wilmington, Delaware)

Apart from Bill Monroe, you mean? Oh, there’s loads. I’m friends with the Del McCoury band, I love that style of classic bluegrass. I love Sam Bush’s Newgrass stuff. And of course there’s Nickel Creek, Chris Feely, Mike Marshall. I love it all, really. One thing I like about bluegrass is that you don’t require amplifiers, drums and trucks. You can pull an instrument out of a box and get on with some instant music making. I carry a mandolin around wherever I go. I also like the fact bluegrass musicians play more than one instrument. There’s a tradition of them swapping instruments. In bluegrass bands I swap between double bass, fiddle and banjo.

One Butthole Surfers anecdote, please? (Dave Grohl)

Ha! I was brought in to produce the Butthole Surfers’ 1993 album, Independent Worm Saloon. I guess it was to give it a heavy rock vibe, but it didn’t work like that. They were actually incredibly hard-working in the studio, but I do recall running up a phenomenal bar-bill at the San Rafael studio. And then there was Gibby [Haynes, Butthole Surfers’ frontman] and his… eccentric studio behaviour. Gibby did one vocal take shouting into his guitar. He held it out in front of his face and screamed at it. Ha! He was trying to find out if it picked up through the pick-ups, which it kind of did. And that was pretty good.

How’s the violin coming along? (Sean, Berkshire)

I started about three years ago. With the guitar, or the piano, you can sound OK quite quickly. With the violin, it takes much longer. Once you get past the first six months of scraping, of muttering to yourself, “What is this fucking horrible noise on my shoulder?” you get the odd musical bit, and you think, ‘Oh, this is starting to get good.’ And you continue with it for a while. I’m getting into country fiddle playing, Celtic folk songs, a bit of swing. Basic stuff, but very satisfying.

Why not record a second ‘Automatic For The People’ with REM? (Franz Greul, Austria)

They haven’t asked me! But doing the string arrangements for that album was a great experience, actually. They sent me the demos of their songs, and we went into a studio in Atlanta, with members of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. They were great songs, something you can really get your teeth into as an arranger. And I’ve been good friends with them ever since.

How did you first meet Josh Homme? And is he still a notorious party monster? (Rob Hirst, Kippax, Leeds)

Well, I think we’ve all calmed down rather a lot. Dave introduced me to Josh at his 40th birthday party. It was a ridiculous themed place where they have jousting with knights. As Dave said, it was like somewhere you’d have your 14th birthday party. Or maybe even your 4th. Anyway, Dave sat Josh and I together for a blind date. Which was reasonably embarrassing for both of us, surrounded by people going “prithee this” and challenging each other to duels. But we survived the trauma and went into the studio the next day, and just started jamming. And I knew immediately it was going to be something special.

If Them Crooked Vultures had Spice Girls-like nicknames what would they be? (Paul Jones, Liverpool)

Dave would be Smiley Vulture. He can’t stop grinning. Josh would be Slinky Vulture. He’s a slinky kinda guy. And I’d be Speedy, I guess. Or Jumpy. So there you go. Smiley, Slinky and Speedy. Or does that sound more like the dwarfs?

I remember you being a pretty funky bass genius back in the day! What memories do you have of those sessions? (Donovan)

The sessions with Don and Mickie Most were great, because we were given a free hand. I usually got leeway, because I was the sort of Motown/Stax specialist, so producers in the mid ’60s would get me in for cover versions of American records, and none of them could write bass parts convincingly enough, so I was London’s answer to James Jamerson, I guess! And I was certainly encouraged to get kinda… funky when I worked with Donovan.

How did it feel to see Jimmy Page and Robert Plant venture off in their own project in the ‘90s without mentioning a word of it to you? (Danny Luscombe, Hull)

Oh yeah, I was pissed off about it. The surprise was in not being told. It’s ancient history now, but it was a bit annoying to find out about it while reading the papers. It came just after Robert and I had been discussing the idea of doing an Unplugged project. Then I’m on tour in Germany with Diamanda Galás, I turn on the TV and see Robert and Jimmy doing it, with someone else playing all my parts! I was pissed off at the time. You would be, woudn’t you? But… it’s all in the past, isn’t it?

Did you listen to much work by Josh Homme or Dave Grohl before you were contacted in relation to joining Them Crooked Vultures, and if so, how did you honestly rate it? (Ralph Ryan, Lisronagh, County Tipperary)

I did like the Foo Fighters and Queens Of The Stone Age, before I’d met either of them. There’s a tendency for people – especially musicians from my generation – to say that there has been this terrible decline in musicianship, that today’s bands haven’t got the chops, blah blah blah. But that’s not true at all. There’s always some people for whom technique on an instrument isn’t necessary. They can get their ideas across without being able to have the chops. But Josh really does have the chops, he just doesn’t feel the need to flash them about all the time. In fact, there were a few riffs he gave me that I had to simplify, because they were bloody difficult to play. I really had to work at it, where he could just flick it off. He is an astonishing musician.

Were you serious when you told Peter Grant that you wanted to jack it in to become choirmaster at Winchester Cathedral? (Brian Fisher, Manchester)

Ha! That was a tongue-in-cheek joke, although I was serious about leaving Led Zeppelin in 1973 unless things changed. But Peter did sort things out pretty quickly. What kind of choirmaster would I have made? A bloody good one! Listen, any way that they’ll pay you for making music is just the best situation in the world. I’d do it for nothing. I don’t care what music it is. I just love it all. The rubbing of notes together. I love it all. I would be very passionate about whatever I decided to do.

What was the worst session you ever did as a jobbing session player? (Adam Burns, Castleford, West Yorkshire)

I generally have fun memories of that time. I’d criss-cross London playing two or three sessions a day, going between Trident and Olympic and Abbey Road and Philips in Marble Arch, you know. You’d be backing Shirley Bassey, Cat Stevens, Lulu, whoever was paying you. The worst experience was a Muzak session. With Muzak sessions, the music was deliberately boring. I distinctly remember one session where I embellished the bass part a little bit, just so that it wasn’t so boring for me to play. They said, “No, you can’t do that. Any interest in the music will distract people’s attention from when they’re meant to be eating.” Or standing in a fucking lift. For fuck’s sake! So I was like, “OK, thanks, bye!”

#john paul jones #jonesy #led zeppelin #robert plant #planty #jimmy page #pagey #john bonham #bonzo #60s #70s #70s rock #70s music #rock music #ourshadowstallerthanoursoul

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no-goodbyes-no-regrets · 5 months ago

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What id find funny as hell is if ross came back with seb (who is robert's absolute double, no r*becca visible in him at all), and seb like immediately is all obsessed with aaron.

Like he goes from 'dad that man says he knows my dad robert, and you never talk about him' to seb actively just seeking aaron out all the time and asking him a million questions. (There's something in the sugden gene that makes them orbit around aaron istg).

And aaron kind of becomes his stepdad again purely because the kid won't leave him alone (and aaron is definitely not encouraging him), and he's amazed at how much like robert seb is, even though they've not met in five years.

John just gets annoyed that aaron is spending so much time with the kid, talking about robert, and their 'relationship' is done . (John is devastated 😐).

LMAO! Oh I want this so bad (apart from Seb calling Ross dad). Didn't they say Seb was the spit of Robert when he was born though? Or did we as a fandom just decide that? I don't remember...

but yes Aaron is a Sugden magnet, and Seb being his father's son is a) obsessed with him, and b) a little smart arse - just making it clear from the get go he doesn't like fauxbert.

And Vic will be obsessed with them getting to know each other because they're FAMILY. Seb *side eyeing her in a way that would make Robert proud*, Fauxbert 😐.

And then Rob gets out early and comes home and Seb plays matchmaker until his dads are back together.

and the best thing would be that mike parr would absolutely HATE it - having to share his limelight with a 7 year old AND Danny lol

#Anonymous #emmerdale #robron

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diceriadelluntore · 9 months ago

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Storia Di Musica #325 - Family, Music In A Doll's House, 1968

L'edificio della copertina del disco di oggi è una casa. Ma di quelle delle bambole. È anche, come per una vera casa, un susseguirsi di ambienti legati, di storie. Il disco di oggi è, unanimemente, uno dei più particolari e preziosi dischi degli anni '60 e, aggiungo io, uno dei miei preferiti in assoluto. Tutto inizia a Leicester, inizio anni '60. Roger Chapman, che già ha qualche esperienza in piccoli gruppi, forma i Farinas, con suoi amici del Leicester Art College: Charlie Whitney, che suona la chitarra, Jim King che suona il sassofono, Harry Overnall e Tim Kirchin, quest'ultimo poi sostituito da Ric Grech. Registrano un primo singolo, per la Fontana, dal titolo You'd Better Stp / I Like It Like That del 1964, che ha un piccolissimo successo. Cambiano nome in Roaring Sixties e pubblicano un nuovo singolo, We Love The Pirates, nel 1966. A questo punto cambiano nome in Family, per l'abitudine di fare tutto insieme, e quando Rob Townsend sostituisce Overnall vanno a Londra. Qui in poco tempo si diffonde la notizia che in città c'è un gruppo che mischia in maniera totalmente innovativa blues, folk, jazz, e ha un cantante che ha una voce incredibile, calda, ruvida e trascinante. Nel 1967 pubblicano la loro prima grande canzone Scene Through The Eye Of A Lens, e firmano un contratto per la Reprise, etichetta fondata nel 1960 da Frank Sinatra, che cercava più libertà d'espressione dalla sua etichetta storica, la Capitol Records. Il disco di oggi, che esce nel 1968, fu il primo di una band Inglese distribuito negli Stati Uniti dall'etichetta (che nel 1968 faceva già parte della Warner Bros.).

Music In A Doll's House passerà alla storia già solo per il titolo: infatti uscirà poche settimana prima del disco dei Beatles che John Lennon voleva chiamare con lo stesso titolo (che riprende il famoso testo teatrale di Henrik Ibsen nel 1879). Lennon fregato dall'accaduto decise poi di pubblicare il loro ultimo lavoro, un disco doppio, con la copertina bianca semplice e dal semplice titolo The Beatles (capolavoro immenso della storia della musica). Quello che rende quest'album tra i più enigmatici e inventivi di quegli anni è che fu, all'atto pratico, l'anello di congiunzione storico-musicale per quello che pochi mesi dopo diventerà il progressive. Prodotto da Dave Mason dei Traffic (Inizialmente l'album avrebbe dovuto essere prodotto da Jimmy Miller, ma quest'ultimo era già impegnato nelle registrazioni di un altro capolavoro, Beggars Banquet dei Rolling Stones), il disco sciorina in 15 brani brevi (uno solo sopra i 4 minuti) una varietà incredibile di creatività, la musica della casa di bambole apre ogni volta stanze differenti: blues revival e canti gregoriani nella stessa canzone (la favolosa Old Songs New Songs), sanno giocare con il fascino dolciastro del r&b (Hey Mr Policeman), sanno suonare il miglior beat sound inglese, come i riferimenti a Kinks e Traffic di due gioielli come Me My Friend e la languida Mellowing Grey, passano con disinvoltura al folk rock (Peace Of Mind) senza disprezzare puntatine verso la psichedelia all'epoca nel fiore della sua potenza, con il sitar orientaleggiante di See Through Windows. E come dimenticare i violini e la voce "da brividi" che aprono The Voyage, prima di trasformarsi in un saltellante rock? O lo sgangherato God Save The Queen che chiude la circense 3 X Time? I brani sono intervallati da piccoli intermezzi strumentali, chiamati giustamente Variation: Variation On A Theme of Hey Mr. Policeman, Variation On A Theme Of The Breeze e Variation On A Theme Of Me My Friend. In Old Songs New Songs suonano non accreditati la band di Tubby Hayes, virtuoso del sassofono, e alcuni arrangiamenti per archi furono effettuati dall'allora 18enne Mike Batt, che diventerà in seguito grande produttore e per anni presidente dell'Industria Fonografica Inglese. La band gira a mille, usando strumenti all'epoca innovativi come il Mellotron suonato proprio da Dave Mason, il sassofono tenore e soprano di Jim King, il violino e il violoncello di Ric Grech (il quale l'anno dopo lascerà la band per suonare il basso nei Blind Faith assieme agli ex-Cream Eric Clapton e Ginger Baker e a Steve Winwood, in pausa dal suo progetto principale, i Traffic). Ma la vera bomba è la voce di Roger "Chappo" Chapman, un ruggito blues indimenticabile, dall'animalesca vocalità, che segnerà un'epoca, e farà moltissimi seguaci (Peter Gabriel dei Genesis, che nascevano proprio in quelle settimane, ne prenderà nota).

La carriera della band proseguirà per qualche anno ancora, fino al 1973, con grandi album (tra tutti Family Entertainment, Anyway e Fearless), con una delle copertine più belle degli anni '70 (il vecchio televisore anni '50, sagomato nell'edizione originale di Bandstand del 1972) e la nomea di band degli eccessi, idea questa che venne "prepotentemente" sottolineata dai racconti che una famosa groupie, Jenny Fabian, che nel suo romanzo Groupie non usò molta fantasia per nascondere i nomi dei nostri nel raccontare le pruriginose avventure dei nostri. L’ultimo concerto della Family avvenne al Politecnico di Leicester, il 13 ottobre del 1973, e si racconta che il party post concerto fu altrettanto memorabile. Degno finale di una delle più suggestive e talentuose formazioni musicali di quegli anni.

#family #music in a doll's house #1968 #recensione

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