#eddie vedder fic

[menlikeair]

WASH MY LOVE. [eddie vedder x fem!reader]

mdni. smut kinda fwb, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, marking, rough-ish sex, slight voyeurism.

words: 2k

the barricade swayingly pressed against your ribcage in waves, each time pushing a huff of breath from your lungs as the crowd swayed and moshed with each song.

the long-haired frontman swinging from the rafters of a club they’d long since outgrown as artists didn’t help the excitement of the youthful mob shoving you forward.

finally, after encore, the lights dimmed and the antsy crowd seemed to slowly disperse. a handful made their way around the side of the stage, flashing their working or backstage passes to the burly cross-armed men guarding the dimly lit entrance. you obliged to the ritual and flashed your own to make your way down the graffitied hallway.

behind you, a voice rang out and you slowly turned on your heels,

“so…” a woman grinned mischievously. her heavily ringed fingers brought a cigarette to her stained lips, remnants of clinique black honey. she blew the thin stream of smoke up towards the ceiling before meeting your gaze again.

“you and vedder, what’s the situation?..”

you grinned and shook your head. news traveled fast in certain social circles. the woman pushed strands of her jet-black pixie cut from her eyes as she searched your face for any further answers.

“we’re just friends… that’s all.”

she hummed in a dissatisfied tone, a slight expression of disbelief flashed across her face, “and you’re a bad liar.” she nudged your shoulder as you walked together down the hallway closer to the room at the end of the hall buzzing with chatter and music.

the room looked like a barber's worst nightmare, nothing but wild long hair and drab flannel as far as the eye could see. your eyes grazed over the group of chattering bandmates, roadmen, friends, and groupies until they landed on the man to the side with his damp shirt thrown over his shoulder. you watched his large hands, one clutching to a dark green beer bottle, as he laughed and retold stories to a group who hung onto every word.

you floated around the room and said your hellos, took tokes that were offered until a familiarly strong hand landed on your shoulder. he teasingly squeezed, pulling your gaze directly to his defined face.

the aura from the man was almost overwhelming. with his pupils blown with adrenaline, you almost didn’t recognize him. you noticed as his surprisingly broad chest quickly rose and fell. you imagined the mound of muscle behind his ribcage quickly thumbing against its strong wall.

in the scene, you’d learned why musicians quickly fell into cycles of drinking and drug abuse, it was nearly impossible for the artists to just go home with a cup of tea and rest on the couch. the epinephrine coursing through them as the aftermath of a packed show was visceral.

eddie leaned to sit his beer down before his hand grasped yours and pulled you through the chattering crowd. he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind the two of you. his grin slowly spread across his face,

“haven’t seen that mug around here in a while,” he leaned closer to press a sloppy kiss against your tense cheek, teasingly rubbing the sweaty dampness from his tanned skin against you. you lightly squealed as you pushed him away playfully.

“well, i don’t like seeing this mug swinging twenty feet above my head,“ you grinned, letting your smooth hand trail down his arm, grasping his and pulling your shirt up,

“see? too wild for me anyway.” the rail of the barricade pushing against your upper rips had already made its mark. light stripes of purple and red marked your skin as you glanced up at his reaction, his skillful fingers brushing over the marks.

“hm, let me see.” eddie crouched lower, placing his hands on each side of your waist as if to examine the marks as you held your shirt up to show the evidence.

“oh, baby, look at you...” he hummed deeply, almost mischievously as he flashed a familiar smirk, his pupils still blown with post-show adrenaline as he glanced upwards to meet your gaze. the man brushed a wild curl behind his ear before pulling your shirt over his head, his breath warm against the skin of your torso.

eddie’s teeth grazed the growing bruise, forcing you to suck sharply through your teeth before his hands slid to your back, teasingly tugging at the hooks of your bra strap, “but too wild for you is a stretch.” he murmured deviously.

“eddie!” you clutched his shoulder tightly, feeling his methodical fingers unclipping the material, “eddie, stop that!” you whisperingly muttered, squeezing his exposed shoulder tighter.

“shh,” he shushed beneath the fabric of your shirt as his hand trailed back to your torso, his fingers feathering over your hardening nipple.

“what if someone sees,” you swallowed down nervously, feeling your knees weaken as his perfectly straight teeth grazed your nipple teasingly,

“nobody’s gonna see,” he muttered deeply, taking his head out of your shirt to stand, keeping his hands beneath the material as he wrapped them around you to tightly press you against his chest, leaning his head to press faint kisses along the side of your neck,

“you haven't missed this?” he muttered, barely more than a raspy whisper, “haven’t missed me?”

your heart fluttered, the answer hidden on your tongue, where it had been hidden for weeks, but you couldn’t muster the words.

you could only think of the first time you’d met the man, the first time you’d seen him on stage. his face flushed a deep red, he could barely look out into the stagnant crowd as he sang; a stark difference to the man in front of you now.

but he wasn’t going to prod more, he wanted to feel your answer. he pulled his lips from your neck and turned to guide you to the corner, hidden behind large stacked cases full of equipment.

“this okay?” his gaze flashed to you as you nodded quickly, his head dipping down as he lifted your shirt once again, his tongue sliding across your hard nipple. his lips trailed down further, and his palms pressured your chest, forcing you to sit on the equipment case with your back against the wall. his palm slid between your legs, parting them with ease before his fingers hooked and ripped the dark pantyhose beneath your short skirt.

“look at this,” his words made the bundle of nerves between your legs ache with impatience. eddie pulled back to gaze up at you from between your legs, his fingertips slid between the wet folds between your legs. your face flushed as he teasingly tsked at the sight of you, short skirt, no underwear, the answer was right in front of him, words weren’t necessary.

his mouth fell agape in mock surprise, his eyes not daring to leave yours as the pad of his thumb rubbed small circles against your clitoris, “what happened, forget them at home, baby?” he grinned, a deep crimson crept across your high cheekbones.

“i... i just..thought we —” you whined sweetly, your hand instinctively going down to entangle your fingers with his brown curls,

“mm..” he hummed knowingly, interrupting your useless whispered explanation. his hands roughly grasped each thigh to part them as he lapped an agonizingly slow stripe against your soaking womanhood, his eyes focused on the sight of your flushed cheeks and lidded expression.

your breath hitched in anticipation as he dropped his head, allowing his tongue to slowly circle your sensitive clit, his tongue dipping down to lap up the drips of wetness sliding down your slit.

“right.. there, please...” you whined sweetly, rolling your head back in an attempt to string any conscious thought together as he slipped two fingers inside and out slowly.

your legs attempted to press together, but eddie’s strong fingers dug into the soft skin of your inner thigh as he forced them open, his tongue working against your clit busily, entirely enveloped by you. your scent. your skin. warmth against his mouth and around his fingers. exactly where we wanted to be.

“eddie,” you moaned, rolling your hips against his busy tongue. each movement from him was mindless and uncalculated, allowing his instinct to guide each action. he wanted to force you to show him just how much you’d missed him and you were doing that.. beyond expectation as your movements became tense and your orgasm approached swiftly. you held his tongue in place and rocked your hips against him as his fingers and mouth coaxed you further, his fingers still working you over.

your legs shakily closed as eddie stood and wrapped his hands around each hip to guide you and help your weakened legs stand. he turned you, allowing your hands to rest on the equipment case for grounding as his two middle fingers parted your swollen lips from behind. he forced your mouth open, letting the slickness of your tongue guide his fingers back into your mouth. your taste flooded your tastebuds as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked his slick fingers clean, “mm, just like that.” his words were course and deep, an extra layer of baritone to his already strong voice.

you heard the undoing of his belt buckle and felt his thickness pressed against you from behind, heavy and hot against your skin. his tip leaked with pre-cum and he reached down to align himself with your sensitive entrance. he slipped inside slowly, an almost unintelligible moan escaped from his parted lips as your tightness wrapped around his thick cock. his fingers fell from your lips and his hands roughly grasped each hip to slowly guide you back further onto his cock.

he let you adjust to his size as he filled you from behind.

you weakly turned your head to the side as he leaned his chest completely against your back and joined your lips. his tongue sloppily slipped into your mouth as the slow rhythmic movement of his hips quickened, one free hand trailing up to run his fingers through your hair before grasping a handful at the root. he forced your head back further with a tug as both his cock and tongue deepened inside.

he parted the kiss, allowing breathy moans to fall from your flushed swollen lips, “feels so good,” your eyes rolled back as his lidded and darkened gaze observed each movement from you almost primitively.

“listen to you… everyone’s gonna know how much of a slut you are, getting fucked out here in the open, is that what you want?” he muttered against your ear as he increased the pace, the harshness of his pounding and grasp on your hair becoming relentless. his wide palm fell against your asscheek, his fingers gripping you tightly as a sharp burning sensation filled the spot of his hand. and another swift spank followed behind.

you whined inaudibly and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip in a failed attempt to stifle your needy whines and groans. you tip-toed to push your ass against his tense naval as you gave him the perfect angle to slide deeper with his cock. the man hummed in approval as his lips dipped down to press warm kisses against the side of your neck once more, sucking the thin skin and sinking his teeth to leave small marks in place of his lips; a keepsake, your souvenir. he knew you weren’t one for overpriced band shirts anyway.

you arched your back as another wave of ecstasy hit you like a brick wall without warning. your name fell from his lips like a hopeless prayer as he followed suit seconds later. eddie’s strong grasp released you as his forehead fell against your shoulder in his orgasm, his thrusts slowed lazily and his moans deepened and went hoarse against your skin. you both panted weakly, your body weakened and limped beneath his weight.

“i really did miss you.” your words were almost incoherent as you turned to face limply towards the man adjusting his belt and and quietly tucking an unruly curl behind his ear before nodding in knowing.

with a satisfied smirk, he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips, snaking his arm around the small of your waist to pull you closer to his chest.

“i know,” he mumbled into your hair as the burning question on his tongue was answered now, and not only physically.

[rocketttqueennn]

please read!!!

i promise I'm working on writing everything!! i will also write for ville valo, eric draven (1994), jimmy page, robert plant, and adrien brody as well as jim morrison and eddie vedder as well, there's just a lot going on personally so it's taking a bit longer, i apologize for the wait and i want to thank you all for your undying support!! ❤️❤️❤️ and requests are still open, request anybody/anything you want!

[golden-gypsy]

On Archive of Our Own

On Wattpad

[fatcoochienergy]

hello all.

i’ve come to ask if anyone would be interested in grunge ship headcanons

i am by no means a writer but there’s a sore lack of grunge ship fics so i would like to contribute.

it would only be ships within the grunge bands and probably little to no oc stuff and no x reader stuff at all.

[sisterthecloud]

I am in love with this.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Twenty-Eight Across

Prompt Day 28: Proposal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Heavy Petting, Fade to Black Sex, Afterglow | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Long-Term Love, Fluff, Softness, Proposal, Eddie POV

The sun is just barely starting to creep over the horizon, and Eddie snuggles closer to Steve in the warmth of their bed. He wishes he could sleep in, but his internal clock gets him up with the sun, no matter if it's his day off, or not. 

But he won't complain about being awake for lazy, cozy mornings in bed with Steve. Even if Steve's still asleep, his hair a mess, fluffed out on the pillow under his head. 

These quiet, sun-kissed moments are some of Eddie's favorite minutes all week. The slow climb of the sun, illuminating Steve a little more with each passing second. And Eddie gets to watch it happen in slow motion, up close and personal.

He never dreamed he'd get to grow up and be this happy. This settled. 

That he'd have all this chosen family, surrounding him with love and affection that he hopes he returns tenfold. 

Twenty years. He's been with Steve for twenty years. 

From when they were just scared kids, having barely survived the fucking apocalypse, to grown men, with jobs and lives. 

And yet, he still wants more. He feels selfish that he even thinks this life he loves isn't enough, just as it is. 

Eddie gets up and showers, and when he gets out, the mirror is steamed up, so he writes Steve a message. 

Marry Me?

He looks at it, then scrubs it away with the hand towel. That's not good enough. Nothing he's ever thought up has been good enough. Steve deserves something perfect. Something romantic, and that's not exactly Eddie's strong suit. 

He goes to sit at the table, and starts doing the crossword in the morning paper, drinking his coffee.

He works on one across: pop the question. Three letters. Eddie scribbles in ask.

Then there's four across: that guy! Three letters again, and Eddie writes in him, taking another drink of his coffee.

Seven across: Vedder, of Pearl Jam, and Eddie laughs, writing in his own first name: Eddie.

Ask him, Eddie is the crossword gods really fucking with him, at this point. He's definitely lodging a complaint with Nancy at the paper. It feels like he's being taunted, and he's taking it personally.

He does a few more, then twenty-eight across is crazy long, and when he reads the clue, generic proposal, he counts out the letters, and sure enough: will you marry me?

Now, the universe is definitely taunting him.

He folds the paper over, not in the mood to finish.

Then, Steve clears his throat from the doorway to their bedroom. Eddie turns to look at him, and smiles, just seeing him. He's sleep rumpled, in just his boxer-briefs. Looking beautiful, and happy.

His belly has gotten a little softer with middle age, but he's never been more beautiful in Eddie's eyes. Eddie feels so lucky. 

They have this whole life they've built together. They don't need to be married to be a family. They've been that since they decided they were in this thing together, forever. 

"Finish your crossword?" Steve asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"Most of it," Eddie answers, standing up and crossing the room, gathering Steve up in his arms. He's still warm from bed, and Eddie leans into him to steal a little of that body heat for himself.

"And?" Steve prompts. 

"And what?" Eddie asks.

Steve chuckles, laying his head against Eddie's, leaning close to his ear, "Will you marry me or not?"

Eddie pulls back, looking in his eyes, and they are playful.

"You did that?" Eddie asks, slightly disbelieving.

"I did that," Steve confirms. "With Nance's help. But I did it, since you kept chickening out."

Eddie laughs, squeezing Steve tighter, "You weren't supposed to know that."

"I know everything about you," Steve whispers, and a shiver runs down Eddie's spine. Because it's true. Steve does. 

"That so, Harrington?" Eddie asks, "What do I want, right now, then?"

"To go back to bed," Steve whispers, reaching down to cup Eddie's dick through his pajama bottoms. Palming him, rubbing his fingers back and forth. 

Thumbing him, catching the head of his dick, even through his pants, well-practiced at the art of taking Eddie apart and driving him slowly mad. 

Jesus H. Christ.

Yeah, that's exactly what Eddie wants. So, he nudges Steve's backwards, and Steve goes, willing, still working his hard dick through his clothes, still touching him, still kissing him. 

Wanting to marry him. 

Eddie presses Steve back against the sheets, ready to warm them back up again. He lines their dicks up, and grinds down. Pressing against him, making Steve squirm beneath him. 

They know this dance well, and they fall into all the right moves. Getting each step perfect.

"So, you never answered my question?" Steve says, curling against Eddie. Pressing their warm, sweat-slick, naked bodies together.

"Yes," Eddie answers, meeting Steve's eyes, "of course, yes."

Steve smiles, "Good. I got tired of watching you be so nervous." 

Eddie laughs, "That obvious?"

"Just for the last year or two," Steve teases, hooking his chin over Eddie's shoulder. "I knew you wanted to do it, so I wanted to let you, but it was getting painful." 

Eddie laughs, full and loud. He loves his man. 

"And I just want to be your husband. So, I asked. I hope you're not disappointed." 

"No," Eddie says quickly, "never. I could never be disappointed by getting to marry you. It was perfect. Better than anything I've thought up." 

"That's not true," Steve says, "I really liked the jumbotron plan from last fall." 

"Goddammit, those fuckfaces," Eddie swears, banging his head against his pillow, "all our shitty friends talked me out of that." 

"I know, and all our shitty friends hate sports, honey. You were thinking of what I like, and you were right. I mean, in general, you shouldn't use the jumbotron unless you're sure of the answer." 

"I was sure of the answer," Eddie whispers, and feels foolish. 

"Good. You should be sure, always." 

Notes: I googled to see if I could find the clue that would produce will you marry me as an answer, and came up with this article of someone that did it in real life. And that clue was "generic proposal" - which, perfect. I also found another instance that someone used "words with a certain ring to them" to get to it, but I liked using the proposal one since that was the prompt word!

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 💍📰✏️

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[stevenssticks]

Welcome to my blog!!!

hello y’all! you can call me P. i’m new to the metal and grunge scene online but have been a fan for a long time! i’m here to make some friends and read and write fanfiction.

I’m not really interested in writing full stories right now but blurbs are cool!!! I’m warming up to this

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN.

🚨🚨i am starting college on Aug 30th!!!! i will not be as active from then on🚨🚨

please see more below abt what i will and will not write.

Who I like:

Steven Adler!!!!!!!! (MY NUMBER ONE MAN), Jason Newsted!!!, Cliff Burton!!!, James Hetfield, Izzy Stradlin, Slash, Kirk Hammett, Dave Mustaine!!!!, Duff Mckagan, Zakk Wylde, Chris Cornell, Eddie Vedder, Layne Staley, Jerry Cantrell, Mike Starr, Nick Menza, Jonathan Davis, Robert Plant, Steve Vai, Dimebag Darrell

What I WILL NOT WRITE

christmas fics, kid fics, pregnancy, x male reader (sorry guys im afab and don’t feel like i would be able to write it well), whips/chains, public sex (no i’m not talking abt some teasing under the table at dinner that’s fine), cnc (consent non consent), ddlg, blood/knives, watersports god no i’m sorry, scat, just a lot of stuff that might be seen as “extreme”

if consent is dubious i will always note ahead of time that both people are willing participants.

[1waywardbirdlane]

Unsolicited Lore Dump

tagged by @ancuninfiles , a beloved mutual

Do you make your bed? Occasionally when i’m tidying up and want everything to look nice & neat, but it’s not something I do habitually. 

Favourite number? 19. Not sure why

What's your job? I tell people I’m a homemaker. 

If you could go back to school would you? If I could go to a trade school, like for carpentry or welding or something, I would in order to build my skills and my art portfolio into larger scale and more intricate projects. I would maybe go to university. I would definitely love to learn more. I love being able to deep dive into a subject, to really learn the nuance & history of it. There’s definitely lots of subjects I’d be interested in, but if I were to actually devote that kind of time to school, I’d also want to have a goal in mind- a Masters or PHD or whatever.

Can you parallel park? Yep

Do you think aliens are real? I think it’s the height of arrogance to assume that there are no other sapient life forms in our whole universe. As much knowledge as we humans have accumulated, there are most definitely still things we cannot even perceive, let alone understand. Most media depicts “alien life forms” as largely humanoid, but that is so limiting and it drives me crazy. Of the films & TV I’ve seen, the film Arrival is the most unique and exciting depiction of alien encounters on earth. The creatures themselves were more imaginative, but also their concepts of language and time were presented in ways that felt fresh and caused a lot of introspection, both for characters on screen and for me personally.

Can you drive a manual car? No

What's your guilty pleasure? This is probably a terrible thing to say here, but fanfic? I still feel like I’m going to be teased if someone asks why I’m crying over my phone and I tell them the new chapter of my favorite fic came out and my ship had a huge fight. (Looking at you @Aevallare jk ilysm) Or if someone asks what I’m reading these days and the only answer I have is “so many Astarion/bg3 fanfics that I literally can’t keep the Tavs straight anymore.” I know I shouldn't feel embarrassed, and if anyone said all these things to me I’d tell them to be proud and just enjoy what they enjoy, fuck everybody else. But…I’ve realized I actually got teased a LOT about things I loved as a kid. My family would pick on me about what I realize now were hyperfixations, like a movie or certain activities that I seemed obsessed with. When I watched fellowship of the ring everyday one summer my brother would mockingly quote lines at me and tell me I needed to get over it. 

Tattoos? I have 2! A henna/paisley -like flower design on the inside of my left forearm and 3 sparrows flying from my right shoulder blade up to my neck. & plans for MANY more

Favorite color? Green. All of its shades and hues. Purple as a close second, especially lilac purple.

Favourite types of music? I think I have a very eclectic taste. I can appreciate most kinds of music, but… folk, indie rock/pop, grunge are probably the most accurate categories? I like female singer/songwriters- Ingrid Michaelson & Maggie Rogers. We’ve seen the Decemberists like 5 or 6 times, but probably my most favoritest band is Incubus. I’m convinced Hozier is some kind of magic Fae creature who fucks off to another realm or dimension between albums. I’ll fight anyone who tries to take a shot at Eddie Vedder. Bowie always puts me in a good mood and reminds me of college and Wes Anderson movies. Radiohead and the White Stripes were some of the first bands my sister introduced me to. The Flaming Lips’ Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and Lauryn Hill’s Miseducation of Lauryn Hill are still some of my favorite albums of all time. 

Do you like puzzles? Yes! It kind of runs in our family on my mom’s side. If you went to visit Grandma and Grandpa and they were having a quiet night, they'd be doing a puzzle and listening to music or watching a movie. My aunts and uncles do it, and so do a few cousins, and my sister & her family love them too. I can get lost for hours with a good podcast and a puzzle. 

Any phobias? I originally went on an ADHD tangent about bear bells and tip toeing to cliff edges, but then I realized the only phobia I probably have is deep water. I LOVE being in the water, water creatures and ecosystems, but if I think too much about what is possibly swimming around just below me I can get a little freaked out. Truthfully this might stem from a “game” my brother and sister played with me when we were little and our house had a pool. They were 11 and 10. Both of them had taken swim lessons, could swim underwater and jump in without holding their noses. I was 3 and had a bathing suit with a built in innertube. They would take turns diving under the water with their hands on their heads imitating fins and grab my ankles and yank me down. Obviously it scared me and they did it so much that I stopped going in the pool with them.

Favourite childhood sport? Soccer

Do you talk to yourself? Oh yeah. Sometimes I pass it off as if I’m talking to my cat, or one of my plants, but yes very much a lot.

What movies do you adore? The Lord of the Rings Trilogy is #1 for of all time. Nacho Libre is another all time favorite. What We Do in the Shadows, the John Wick movies, Fast & Furious movies, Mad Max Fury Road…

Coffee or tea? I love both but if I have to choose then COFFEEFirst thing you wanted to be growing up? Somewhere in my parents’ house there is an old video of me saying that when I grew up I wanted to be a princess or a mermaid.

Gunna tag all 10 of my followers lol. If you've already shared yours just ignore me lol.

@astarionancuntnin @midnight-musings-of-nyx @adoenamedjane @originalin @giganticrodent @shewhowas39 @halsinwhore @swancensus

I really love doing these!!

[devilbrakers]

11 & 29 for the music asks <33

11. three favourite songs from movie or TV series soundtrack

throw your arms around me - eddie vedder, neil finn (from the bear)

the walking dead theme!

bojack's theme 🚶🚶🚶

29. three songs that influenced you most (some songs change or save lives)

never too late - three days grace (complicated relationship with this one but yea. probably the most influential 2 me)

like a stone - audioslave (my parents played this ALLL the time when i was growing up. it's still one of my favorites)

my immortal - evanescence (VERY funny choice to me bc of the fic or whatever but undeniable i'm afraid)

[feverinfeveroutfic]

the skeleton key | chapter one: jigsaw pieces

now this is a fic that’s been sitting in my repertoire for years, almost decade now. it was one of those things i just kept visualizing every now and again, and yet i never had the chops (or the courage for that matter) to come out with it. i thought about bringing it to life in late 2017, when i was offline, but i had other things happening. i tried resurrecting it in summer 2019, and then again during quarantine, to the point i had actually written down the first chapter, but then now it’s dark came along and i couldn’t resist that one and thus, i shelved it for two years (and summer of quarantine, as we all know, was… that). i tried it again in november 2021, but then almost immediately, i thought of dead man walking so i had to put it aside a third time. i just didn’t know what to do with it, like i had the story inside me, but i never knew who was featured in it.

hopefully, fourth time is a charm.

i like to say that my testament fics are the stories i’ve always wanted to write (and they are), but this unquestionably is that.

“I've got about five minutes left on my shift—could you wait a bit for me as I clean up?”

It had been a long day at the bakery and my feet were in utter agony and I had a headache from looking at price tags all day long. I knew I was going to have to go to the show smelling of fresh bread out of the oven as well as vanilla, but it was more than worth it in my eyes. If nothing else, we could possibly go to the show and meet up with those guys backstage by some random as hell chance. Marcy had come to the bakery to pick me up, all bright eyed and bushy tailed no less, and I was more than eager to clock out and head on over to the House of Blues to go and see Metal Allegiance.

She had suggested I make a drawing for those guys, and yet I needed the money to buy it all first. If nothing else, I could find myself in the odd chance that I struck up something with them in the meantime and I could do something down the line.

I was the artist, after all. The artist with the bakery at her helm.

I could do both if I so wished.

“You should whip up some brownies or something really quick,” she suggested to me as I tucked the cookie sheets under the display case. At least I didn't have to put up any day olds right then.

“Well, we're going to have to meet them first,” I told her as I switched off the light in the case; she blinked a few times and showed me a smile. She continued to smile with the little chai symbol around her neck. “You know how these things usually go at shows now.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod and a tucking of a curled lock of hair behind her ear.

It was my second concert after quarantine had ended: I had seen Eddie Vedder the year before not too far from there over at the Greek Theatre, and all the while, I was keeping my distance from people with that thick, heavy mask over my face. But I still managed to enjoy myself.

This was also going to be my very first metal show, as I usually frequented the alternative side of things: Marcy was the metalhead and she was the one taking me as a treat of sorts for being a good friend.

I took off my apron and hung it up on the rung in the next room, where I washed my hands. I glanced up at the clock which read two fifteen.

“What time does the show start?” I called out to her over the rush of the water.

“Eight o'clock,” she replied.

“Oh, we've got hours upon hours of time,” I assured her, and then I stopped in my tracks. “Is there a reason why you picked me up so early, besides the traffic obviously?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, you know.”

“I don't know,” I said as I dried off my hands. I doubled back to the front room of the bakery, and I treated her to a chuckle. “Don't tell me—”

“Don't tell you what, Al?”

“You know. All your little suggestions and the fact that I had been tiptoeing my way around it all. I know what this is.”

“Do you now?” She raised her eyebrows at me and treated me to that little cherubic smile. “Oh, Marcy Playground, what do I do with you.”

“Marcy Playground and Alison Chains, that's how we do,” she quipped. I signed myself out and switched off the light: some day, when I have my own bakery, I'll open the door at eight in the morning and close at dinner time, and I'll have an art gallery next door that'll be open until ten o'clock at night. A dream of mine, and yet it felt so out of reach.

“When do you get paid?” she asked me as we strode outside to her car: it was a cold day there near the beach, colder than either of us had been acquainted with, but the sun greeted us with a good day that day. Marcy adjusted her jacket to hide her pendant, even though we were the sole ones on the street at that moment.

“Tomorrow,” I replied. “Fridays, remember? Why?”

“Do you have money?” she asked as she unlocked the doors for us.

“Yes, of course. Again, why?”

“I'll explain in a bit.” We climbed into the car and she drove me out of Pleasant Valley Village, all the way up towards Ventura Boulevard. She drove me over to Ventura, right to the center of town: I was amazed that she had remembered the way there, given she hailed all the way from New York City and I was the California girl. But we reached the parking lot there, and she took the spot dead center of it all so we could look on at the art store there as it overlooked the beach itself. I leaned back in the seat with my head tilted back and my mouth agape.

“Marcy...” I groaned.

“You should!” she insisted. “You should totally draw them something. If you can't bake them something, you should at the very least draw them something instead. Remember? We talked about all of this?”

“Yeah, it was just a one time thing, too,” I recalled to her. “I also remember going to see Alice in Chains before the pandemic and I knew right away that I wasn't going to reach Jerry from where I was sitting. Like I said, Marce, the chances of it happening are so far out there, that it almost feels pointless to even think of doing it.”

“Was it pointless to make the drawing of Jerry?” she asked me, to which I paused for a moment.

“No. If anything, that was one of the drawings I was most proud of.” I paused again as I thought back to that big bright psychedelic drawing that I had made for Jerry, of him with Chris and also Lars. I still had it stashed away in the back of my desk drawer to keep it safe. “Yeah, that drawing was one of the highlights of that summer. The summer before quarantine.”

“Okay, now... do you think it's pointless to even try it out?”

I stopped again, that time with my thoughts going into making those artworks. I couldn't bake something, even with as much as I wanted to, but I could share art. I had to keep it with me at all times until I found a chance, and up to that point, I had often heard and read of stories of fans going to meet people like them, and it seemed to happen like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. It had happened to me as well, but it was lightning in a bottle, though, and it always was with everyone else who had a story like that.

I had my doubts and my questions, but somehow, even through it all, I still held out a tiny ray of hope.

“Okay, well...” I began again, “before I go in there and spend the rest of my money on art supplies, what do you think I should I draw?”

“The four of them,” she insisted. “Mark, Alex, Dave, and Mike. You've got four hours, and I've watched you draw in a shorter amount of time, Al. You can do it.”

“You want me to go in there and get some paper and nice markers, and work on something here in the car?”

“Yes! Yes, you should!”

I pursed my lips. “I really don't know, Marce. I mean, like I said, we talked about this a few months back when they announced the ten year anniversary show. When I met Chris, it was such a one in million occurance that I really don't think anything like that could happen again.”

“Okay, but what if I helped you remember your thought process back then, though?” she asked me as she leaned in closer to me with her elbow rested upon the center console. “Do you remember what you were thinking back then before you made that painting? And also, before you made that drawing of Jerry?” I paused for a second: I sat there in a brief moment of disbelief that my meeting Chris had been nearly a decade ago at that point, a decade since I had gotten face to face with Chris. But I remembered it all, though. I still pictured it on the back of my mind as if it had just happened.

“Do it anyways,” I recalled in a low voice. “Because you never know.”

“You never know, exactly,” she assured me. I sighed through my nose and peered out the window to those front doors. We were down the parking lot from them, but I swore I could see my own reflection there.

I hoisted my purse off the floor from next to my feet, and I climbed out to the gray afternoon sunshine.

I closed the door behind me and strode up towards those big glass front doors. My mind fell blank from that point forward as I was guided by nothing more than my own heart. I never spent all of my money on the nice paper and that little set of alcohol markers as well as a new pencil, and it never registered in my mind until I found myself in the parking lot once again with Marcy next to me.

Four A3 sized sheets of paper for the drawings. I had their likenesses stuck inside of my mind. We had the ocean at our backs and the sun over us, and I let her watch me all the way until I was finished with all four of them.

It was days like that when I missed him. I was going to a show and yet, I knew in my heart that there was no way I could see him again. It was all too real when I saw Eddie, and more so at that very moment. I was going to a show, and I knew I was going to have him with me the entire time as well.

Once I had completed the drawings, I leaned back in the seat and signed them on the backs.

The one of Alex, a scene of him walking on the beach with the sunrise behind him, stuck out to me, because I never put so much thought into that one, that is until I took a good long look at him there with his shoulder length hair and the fact that I remembered his being a bit on the soft side, even while long and thin.

Almost like Chris.

Mark meanwhile reminded me of another ghost from the past, one that had slipped through my fingers without my realizing it until it was too late. Mike brought me back to another moment in time, one that I wished to forget, and Dave reminded me of someone who had fallen somewhere around the same time Chris had gone away as well.

They all reminded me of someone whom I used to know, and I never realized it until I signed my name on the back of the drawing of Alex. I sat there in silence with my hands rested upon my lap, whereby Marcy leaned into my face again.

“Are you okay?” she asked me in a low voice.

“Yeah,” I duly replied. “At least, I think I am.”

She raised her hand and turned the key, and we saw the time displayed on the dashboard. Three hours before we could even go into the venue, but we had to move things along to beat the evening rush hour. This was something that I definitely did not want to miss out on, even if it meant digging up some memories.

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Selected Writing Soundtracks Pt. 3

Continuing to share songs I listened to while writing different fics! See Part 1 and Part 2 here.

Carrot and Stick - Stereotype by STAYC

Age of Coming Reason - Kara no Kokoro by Anly

Valley of Dear - Cynical Fairytale by egg  

Scholarly Sentiment - Sunroof by Nicky Youre ft. dazy / Beginner Love by Naniwa Danshi

Millions of Light Years (Kikoeru Yō) - Zetsuzetsu by Swimy / Give it Back by Cö Shu Nie

Work Equally Revered - A Studio Ghibli Chill Trap Mix by JVNA

Lifted with the Elements - Guaranteed by Eddie Vedder / Try by Eddie Vedder

Half-Baked (Heartfelt) - Mixed Nuts by Official Hige DANdism

[menlikeair]

it was the time. like a clean new taste.

[ x ]

[orbitalpirate]

This cover has such a chokehold on me right now. If my fics have a wistful sadness in the future blame Eddie Vedder

[homosociallyyours]

1, 8, 22 for the questions for authors please ♡

thank you for these, my friend!!!

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for? officially, as in I published it somewhere, it was BBC Sherlock. unofficially, as in I made up stories for my friend, it was inserts of her and Danny from NKOTB. Not self inserts, mind you-- but friend inserts. Later it was her and Eddie Vedder and sometimes her and one of our assistant swim coaches. I never wrote those down, though. They were all just told at sleepovers.

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately. No, actually! I need silence for writing, otherwise I'll focus on the lyrics if there are any. And classical music has just never felt relaxing to me-- I can't help but pay attention to the details/try to pick out instruments/focus on it.

22. Have you cried while writing a fic? Yes, definitely. I cried A LOT writing the sick Harry fic (Even On My Worst Days), but I know there have been lots of other ones that made me tear up. Even if I don't cry in the writing, when I do read throughs for editing I will definitely end up getting teary at the sweet/heart-full moments especially.

[stateofloveandnegan]

EDDIE VEDDER - one shots

Break Up

A Cigarette

Unfortunate Events

Grunge Concert

MTV Unplugged

No Confidence

Truth or Dare

Cosy

EDDIE VEDDER - requests

A Damn Wedding

Flirty

Car Accident

The Little Sister

The Backroom

Lollapalooza

Goodbye

The Shy One

Don’t Cry

Friends With Benefits - smut

Overprotective

Why?

Hatred

I’m Here

Massage - smut

My Girl - smut

Sweet Benefits - smut

Hey Ed

Alcohol

EDDIE VEDDER - short series

Backstage

Part 1

Part 2 - smut

Under Pressure/Date Night

Part 1

Part 2

STONE GOSSARD - one shots

Jealousy

STONE GOSSARD - requests

Dances

Hidden Feelings

Love

First Time - smut

Tease - smut

Eye-Contact

Sweet

CHRIS CORNELL - requests

Surprise?

Drunk

Lazy Day

Rehab

Interest

Crush - smut

On The Way - smut

Records

JERRY CANTRELL - one shots

One Date

JERRY CANTRELL - requests

I Just Can’t - smut

Rainy Days

MIKE MCCREADY - requests

What’s Wrong Up You? - smut

SHANNON HOON - requests

Exception

DAVE GROHL - requests

Conclusions

KENNY HICKEY - requests

Finally

EDDIE VEDDER X STONE GOSSARD -  requests

Movie Night

[jjmichie]

Links to My Fics

One Shots:  

Jeff and Eddie Have a Beer

Jeff and Stone Return from NYC

Stone Savors the Moment

How Many Times Must I Tell You?

Multi-Part Fics:

"In Too Deep" - Set during the Mother Love Bone era, Stone gets in over his head when he falls for a married woman.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4a

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

“Some Words When Spoken” - This story takes place during the Vitalogy era, although several of the stories are flashbacks.  Note - the first chapter actually happens LAST chronologically, and the remaining chapters are flashbacks leading up to it. I am expecting this won’t be much more than a five part series, so no huge commit.  Enjoy.  

Chapter 1:  Jack Irons it Out

Chapter 2:  Stone and Dave Watch Through the Window

Chapter 3:  Mike and Stone Walk in the Snow

Chapter 4: Stone and Dave drink Eddie's wine

Chapter 5: Nothingman