#steve doing an interview later where the interviewer is like 'you two are kind of an odd pair'

[supernovafics]

𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader

word count: 5.9k words

summary: in which, after knowing of him for a while, you finally meet eddie munson at a movie premiere

warnings: explicit language, some fluff, smut (18+), fingering (f!receiving)

author’s note: yes this is very much inspired by the harry styles song. i had this idea like a year ago and then i left it unfinished for months upon months but it’s finally finally done now so enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Aside from Steve, is there anyone else I’m going to know at this premiere?”  

Maybe you should’ve asked Melissa that question before you were on your way to the theater in West Hollywood where the movie premiere was taking place. That would’ve given you more time to mentally prepare if your publicist’s answer was no; which would mean that you’d have to have a fake smile plastered on your face during most of the night. 

You slightly shifted in the backseat of the car you sat in with Melissa on your left. You were trying not to move too much or even get comfortable in your seat during the drive for fear of somehow messing up the simple black dress you were wearing. Tonight didn’t even really matter for you, you knew that. You were only going to this premiere to support a friend, and the red carpet walk you’d have to do would be a quick and very unimportant one, but you still felt the need to make sure that you were perfect.

Melissa started listing names you quickly recognized, people you’d worked with before or had a handful of passing conversations with. “Oh, and Eddie Munson is gonna be there as well.” 

“Oh,” You said, looking down at your dress and smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle. You cleared your throat and attempted to act as nonchalant about it as possible. “Oh, cool. Why is he going to a movie premiere?” 

“His band worked on the soundtrack for the movie.”

You nodded at that. “Oh, okay.” 

“You two should try to get a picture together. That would be really great,” She said, taking a quick glance at you before going back to look at her phone. “After the interview thing, people would love seeing this.” 

You more so saw that whole situation as “the interview incident” instead of simply “the interview thing.” It was only a few months ago when you had to do some promotional interviews for a movie you filmed earlier in the year, and you had been randomly asked about your favorite music. You talked about Corroded Coffin’s latest album and you specifically mentioned Eddie’s great songwriting and voice. You went on something close to a ramble about him and his band and then regretted it immediately when you were done because you knew that you probably sounded something equivalent to an obsessed fangirl. And, of course, none of it got cut out of the video. 

And then, about a month later, Melissa sent you an article about an interview Eddie did where he mentioned one of your movies and also said that you were one of his favorite actresses. You felt entirely indifferent about the article because it just seemed way too coincidental to you. You knew that his publicist and Melissa were a part of the same firm, so it made sense that they would wanna do something to potentially “stir” something up. 

You let out a sigh. “I know that you told his publicist to have him mention me in his next interview.” 

Melissa only shrugged in response. “He and his band have gotten so big in the last year, and you’re getting really big right now too. This could be a great moment.” She took another look at you and smiled. “Just saying.”

You knew that in the grand scheme of things, she only wanted what was best for you, and you appreciated that; it was why she’d been your publicist since you had started your career in your teens. But, that didn’t mean that you liked these kinds of curated moments, pretending and staging friendships or even relationships— it all just felt so dumb to you, and it was your least favorite part of your job. But, you still always found yourself listening. 

“I’ll try,” You ultimately told her. “No promises, though.”

When you made it to the theater, it was a sea of people and cameras, loud voices and bright flashes; none of which necessarily fazed you anymore. In the beginning, you had loved this kind of thing because it all just felt so magical and surreal. You’d get excited and nervous jitters at the “glamour” of it all. Now going to any event only felt like putting on a show; it somehow felt like more of a performance than actually doing a scene in front of a whole production crew of people. 

You followed Melissa and listened to her tell you what the plan of action would be for the next half an hour until the actual premiere started— you’d take some quick pictures, and then she’d introduce you to “a few very important people that you should build some sort of a rapport with;” the director of the movie and a few of the executive producers. You nodded along to her words, understanding that you’d need to turn on your charm during those brief introductions, while your eyes were focused on the red carpet just like almost everyone else’s was— looking at Steve and the female lead of the movie, walking the carpet separately and then also taking a few pictures together.  

You smiled a bit at seeing Steve because, more often than not, it was nice to see him. The first big movie you did was with him; a romantic comedy that you now saw as way too cheesy, but you still had the fondest memories of it. The two of you didn’t talk or see each other as often as you did back then during filming and during all of the press that was done for the movie, but you’d still always consider him a good friend. One of your first real friends in the industry, even though everyone had always tried to say that it was more.  

You then noticed Eddie and his bandmates. He looked nice— a simple black suit with a white button-up underneath, a bowtie that you couldn’t help but think was insanely cute, and his long curly hair mildly tamed in a way that looked effortless. 

Almost too abruptly his eyes met yours. Instead of immediately looking away and avoiding his gaze, you gave him a small smile and nod, and he did the same; that was the extent of the nonverbal interaction. Seconds later, you were being ushered along by Melissa and you pulled your eyes away from Eddie and focused on what she was telling you. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

In your mind, an entire hour was more than enough time spent at the after-party. 

You’d been in enough conversations with unfamiliar faces, introducing yourself and attempting to make new “connections” with people, as per Melissa’s request. And you also talked to a few old friends, accepting invitations to get lunch sometime soon and “catch up about life.”

You were ready to finally head home for the night, and you tried to spot Melissa among the small crowd of people to tell her just that. Maybe you’d even say a quick goodbye to Steve and congratulate him one more time on the movie; which you had actually really enjoyed. 

A tap on your shoulder grabbed your attention and you turned your head. You weren’t entirely sure who you were expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t Eddie Munson. 

“Hey, I’m Eddie,” He said and extended his hand toward you, which you took after only a millisecond of awkward hesitation. 

“Hi,” You responded softly, suddenly feeling so nervous for some reason, and then said your name as well. 

You had come to the conclusion early on in your career that you shouldn’t meet people that you admired or were fond of because nine times out of ten they actually turned out to be assholes. You only knew about Eddie from afar and you honestly wouldn’t have minded keeping it that way. But, that wasn’t the current set of circumstances you were in, so you had to completely throw that mindset away.  

“I didn’t know your band worked on the soundtrack until tonight. The songs you guys had in the movie were great,” You told him, voice coming back to life. “I really love all of your music, honestly.”

“Thanks,” He smiled at you. “I love your stuff too.”

You gave him a small shy smile as you shook your head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I’m serious,” He told you, and he actually sounded like he was being honest. “That Indie film you did last year was really great.”

It was hard to hide the immediate shock you felt at his words. “Oh, okay, wow, thank you…” You shook your head again. “Sorry, I was just so sure that your publicist told you to say that in your next interview or something after the interview I did came out.”  

“Oh, yeah, she did, but it didn’t feel right saying that without seeing anything of yours, so I watched a bunch of your stuff.”

Hearing him say that warmed your heart a bit and you had to pull your eyes away from his in response at first— he saw your movies and actually liked them. And then you thought about something. 

“Oh god, I hope you didn’t go too far back in my filmography.”

He smirked at your sudden shyness. “Don’t worry, I didn’t watch that Disney Channel Halloween movie you did when you were, like, seventeen.”

“Good,” You told him, laughing a bit. 

Before either of you could say anything else, a photographer was walking up and grabbing your attention. 

“Hi, can I get a quick picture of you two?”

You both nodded and stepped closer to one another; Eddie placed an arm around your waist and you did the same to him. You told yourself that everything about this moment was completely and utterly innocent and friendly, even though having him this close to you felt too nice. 

When the photographer walked away after saying a quick “Thanks,” you pulled away from each other and you pretended that you didn’t immediately miss his warmth. 

“Can’t wait to see that circulating everywhere tomorrow,” You said. 

Eddie laughed a bit. “Our publicists would be very proud.” 

“This just might be able to get me out of going to this annoying event tomorrow,” You responded and then noticed his eyes becoming fixated on something behind you. You tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze met yours again. “Do you wanna meet the other guys? They keep gesturing to me.”

You glanced behind you and noticed his two bandmates standing maybe fifteen feet away from you both. They were waving wildly at Eddie and then immediately stopped and attempted to look as normal as possible when you looked at them. You laughed as you turned back to Eddie. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to meet them.”

He waved them over and then looked at you. “I should probably warn you that they still get starstruck over almost any celebrity they see, so yeah… They might be a little intense, at first.”

“That’s how I was in the beginning too. Until I realized that most people you meet suck anyway,” You said with a shrug, and then realized your words and immediately felt like an idiot. “Oh, um, not you, though, you’re cool.”

He let out a quiet laugh at how flustered you became. “You’re cool too.”  

Instead of responding with an awkward “Thank you,” you turned your attention to the pair now walking over to you both. 

“This is Gareth and Jeff,” Eddie said, pointing out each of them, but you already knew who was who. That was probably the funniest part about meeting other “celebrities;” introductions felt unnecessary but they still always just seemed like the normal thing to do. 

You smiled. “Hi, I’m–”

“Oh, we definitely know who you are,” Jeff interrupted, which made you laugh a little. “That movie you did last year was so good. We watched it a bunch of times when we were on tour a couple of months ago. It’s awesome to meet you.”

“Thanks so much,” You said. “It’s great to meet you guys too. I love your guys’ band.” 

“My personal favorite of yours is that romcom you did with Steve Harrington. I forced them to watch it at least three times,” Gareth jumped in. “Oh, we also just met him too. He invited us to his house for the after-party he’s having. You’re coming, right, Eds?”

He nodded at the question. “Yeah, sure.” You then felt his eyes land on you. “Are you going?”  

If it had been anyone else asking you that, it would’ve probably felt easier to say your initially honest answer of “No.” 

Steve found any and every reason to have a party, but you had to admit, at least tonight’s made sense. When you talked to him earlier in the night, he mentioned it to you, like he always did— invitations were always extended to you when he saw you or knew you were in town— but you hadn’t actually been to one of his parties in what felt like forever. It just had never truly been your thing. 

Now that you knew Eddie was going, though, you actually wanted to say yes to the invitation for the first time in a long time. And right then you decided not to think about what exactly that meant. 

Ultimately, you nodded. “Yeah, I was planning on going to it. At least, for a little bit.” 

It almost felt funny how much things had shifted in the past ten minutes. You had been so ready to leave and head home for the night, and in a way you still were, but now you also wanted to do something different— something you hadn’t done in a while.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You actually came for once,” Steve said in your ear when he pulled you in for a hug; it was the only way to be heard over the loud music. He squeezed you tight and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “See, and this is why I always invite you to everything, because I knew you’d eventually say yes again.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s how probability works,” You told him with a laugh before pulling away and moving to the side a bit so that he could greet Gareth, Jeff, and Eddie. 

Everything moved quickly after it was decided that you’d be going to the party too. You finally found Melissa because she had your phone and small purse that couldn’t hold anything more than just your wallet. She didn’t question you on the fact that you were going with Eddie and his band, but you could tell that she knew that you were going because of him; she had known you long enough to read you pretty well. You had a feeling that you’d get a phone call from her in the morning, asking all of the questions that she couldn’t right then. 

The four of you left the party together and made the near-hour-long Uber ride to Steve’s huge home in Malibu. In your eyes, it was a classic celebrity house party— loud music, varying degrees of famous people, and the faint smell of weed. You were almost too easily reminded of the last time you’d gone to one of his parties; the abrupt offer of something much stronger than weed from a random guy and your immediate no, and you left after saying quick “Hi’s” and having brief conversations with a few people you knew. 

This was not at all your scene and it never entirely had been; not even when you had been a teenager that was abruptly thrust into this world. You were scared of doing something to ruin everything that you’d worked so hard to have. Everything you did was judged, no matter what, so you always felt that there was no room for you to not be perfect.

This moment was different, though. You were pushing yourself out of your typical comfort zone, and right then you didn’t want to even inwardly admit why you were doing it.

“So, what are you like at this kind of thing?” You asked Eddie as you both watched Gareth and Jeff immediately join the hordes of people in the living room. 

“Depends on the party,” He answered. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to ‘Hollywood parties,’ but the guys love dragging me to them.”

“All of these parties are basically the same; equal parts mundane and very ridiculous,” You shrugged, and then realizing he was like you when it came to parties made you think of something. “Is it okay if I show you something that’s away from all of this?”

Eddie nodded. “I’d love that, actually.”

Without thinking too much, you grabbed one of his hands and led him away from the living room. 

You knew Steve’s house pretty much like the back of your hand; it was too nice not to. One of the first few times you’d been there— at a different party of his that you had forced yourself to go to before you realized that he wouldn’t feel offended if you said no— you walked around for an hour simply exploring all of the spots you hadn’t been to before. 

There were a few guest rooms that had balconies with such nice views of the ocean in the distance and a game room that had a pool table in the center and some vintage arcade-type games tucked into the corner. 

And then there was your favorite spot in the house; the theater room, where a few sets of couches faced a huge projector screen that at most times was playing random cartoons instead of movies. 

When you found the remote hidden within a heap of blankets, you turned on the projector, which brought some light to the room. A random episode of Tom & Jerry started playing, and you decided to leave it going, but just turned down the volume a bit. You offered one of the blankets to Eddie, which he accepted, and then you grabbed another and wrapped it around your shoulders. You two made the silent decision to sit on the couch all the way in the back. 

It was quiet for a moment and then Eddie was saying, “So, you and Steve dated, right?”

That question didn’t necessarily surprise you, but it still made you a little annoyed; more so at yourself than at Eddie. 

This wouldn’t even be a question on anyone’s mind if you had done things a little differently five years ago when you and Steve did that infamous romcom. Pretty much everyone thought that you and him were dating during that time and rumors circulated because of that. And since they were never outwardly denied— a decision that Melissa and Steve’s publicist thought was the best— they continued to circulate until a year later when Steve actually did get a girlfriend. 

You shook your head at his question. “No, we’ve always just been good friends.”

Eddie nodded understandingly and a silence lingered between you two for a moment, and then you felt the need to explain further. 

“He was kinda my first friend in this ‘world,’ actually,” You continued. “Before the movie I did with him, I had just been in a bunch of small things that didn’t really matter. But, after that romcom came out, that was what kinda really pushed me into all of this. There were so many more eyes on me so suddenly, and it was really fucking weird at first. He grew up in all of this, so he knows ‘how it works,’ I guess, and aside from Melissa, he was the only person that checked in about how all of this fame shit was treating me.”

“That’s really nice,” Eddie said softly. “I couldn’t imagine going into all of this alone. I don’t think I’d be able to do any of this shit without Gareth and Jeff. Don’t tell them I said that, though.”

You laughed a little. “Your secret’s safe with me. You guys grew up together, right?”

“Yeah, this small town in Indiana,” He answered. “We met in middle school.”

“That’s really nice too. I wish I still had friends from that long ago,” You told him. At this point, it was even hard to remember the friends you had in middle school and high school before you moved to California in the middle of your Sophomore year with your parents. It honestly felt like an entirely different life you had lived. 

“When did you move here?”

“When I was sixteen. It was kinda my birthday present actually. I had been begging and pleading to do this since I was thirteen, but my parents weren’t fully on board until I got a little older,” You answered, shifting slightly and adjusting your blanket. “It was kinda like how a kid begs for a puppy for Christmas.”

“Your puppy was Hollywood,” Eddie concluded, giving you a small smile. 

“Exactly,” You nodded and then stopped abruptly. “That probably sounds stupid.”

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. You knew what you wanted. I think that’s pretty fucking cool.”

“A lot of people thought it was the opposite of cool,” You said, thinking about the things that the kids in your grade and old friends had said to you. “I was always so quiet and kinda shy, still am sometimes, so nobody understood why I wanted to get into acting.”

“Why did you?”

There was a long-winded explanation you could’ve given him, but it felt like too much for this moment. 

“I could just see it,” You ultimately answered with a brief upturn of your shoulders. “Weirdly enough, the thought of acting never once scared me. It always just made sense.”

You wondered if you were being too vague, if you should’ve just told him about those times in the mirror where you would recite monologues from your favorite movies and then eventually ventured out to random ones that you found online. 

You didn’t need to explain further, though, because Eddie nodded. “I get that. There was this moment when me and the guys performed at our eighth-grade talent show. It was terrible, I’m honestly glad there’s no video proof of it circling the internet right now. But still, after that night, I just knew that that was where I always wanted to be. Onstage. Performing. I felt it.” 

“Exactly,” You said as you nodded at his words. “It’s a feeling. And I have no idea how to fully explain it because it feels so hard to put it all into actual words, but yeah, it’s a feeling.” 

It felt so refreshing having this conversation with him. You couldn’t remember the last time you had talked so easily with someone you just met— you’d had conversations like this with Steve before, even though he couldn’t fully get it because he was quite literally born into this industry, and you’d even had this kind of conversation with Melissa, but she could never fully understand what you meant either. 

Eddie was different, though, obviously so, and it didn’t even matter that you two were in different parts of this fast-paced industry— music on one side and acting on the other. It felt like two sides of the same coin; different, but somehow you two could so easily relate to one another. Any and all initial awkwardness you had felt when you first talked to him back at the after-party had so effortlessly faded away as you learned just how similar you two were. 

“Okay, I have a stupid question,” Eddie said after a moment. 

You had no idea what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t help but smile anyway. “I love those.”

“Feel free not to answer and tell me how much of an idiot I am for asking this,” He started and even in the semi-darkness you could see the redness starting to tint his cheeks, which only further intrigued you about what he was going to say. “Are, um, doing sex scenes weird?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at first; a soft one that surprised you as much as it made Eddie’s cheek turn an even deeper shade of red. 

“Nevermind, nevermind.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Honestly, that’s not a stupid question,” You told him and then thought about how to answer it. “They definitely intimidated me at first. The first time I had to just kiss someone I thought I would immediately fall in love with them on the spot.” You remembered the first on-camera kiss you ever had to do. It was for a stupidly bad teen movie and kissing the guy felt awkward until it didn’t, and then it simply felt like what it was— acting. “But, it’s really not like that at all. Everything just feels so fake and staged and you do so many takes of that one thing from a bunch of different angles, usually, that it all really seems like nothing after a while. And it’s pretty much the same way with sex scenes.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.”

“Sorry, am I ruining movies for you?” You asked, mainly joking with your words. Once you had learned the logistics behind everything, it did slightly make things feel less “magical” to you. It was hard to watch movies now and not think about how certain shots were set up and what specific angles meant.  

“No, I’m loving this peek behind the curtain,” Eddie said, playfully smiling at you, and that made you want to tell him more. 

“Okay, so it’s all just so mechanical. Like, choreography pretty much.” You shifted so that you were a lot closer to him. You let your blanket fall off your shoulders as you reached out to grab Eddie’s hand and place it on your waist. “So, they’d tell you to put your hand there and I’d put my hand on your cheek.” You moved to do exactly that. “But not too high because then the camera wouldn’t be able to catch your expression. And then I’d lean in, tilting my head in a slightly awkward position, and we’d kiss.” You didn’t move to do that, even though you were surprised by how much you found yourself suddenly wanting to. “It, um, feels so unnatural, but it looks great on camera. And then with a sex scene, it’s kind of the same thing, except more… movement, obviously. And more directions to make sure everything looks okay on camera too.” 

Eddie nodded understandingly again as his hand on your waist mindlessly moved down and settled in a much more comfortable position on your hip. In turn, your hand dropped from his cheek to the curve where his neck met his shoulder, pressing softly into the collar of his white shirt. You didn’t realize it at first, but you were practically in his lap now, and surprisingly enough, it didn’t feel weird or awkward; it felt okay, comfortable even. 

With your explanation over, it would’ve made sense for you and Eddie to pull away from each other, but something had silently shifted in the past minute. For some reason, it didn’t feel right to go back to sitting on your different parts of the couch, wrapped up in separate blankets, after being this close to one another. 

The warmth radiating from the hand on your hip and the rest of his body felt a thousand times more comforting than the blanket had. You pushed yourself closer to Eddie, settling in his lap completely, straddling his waist, and smiling at the soft sound he let out as you did so. Both of his hands took hold of your hips and gave a light squeeze that made a warm feeling settle in the pit of your stomach. 

A part of you could recognize that this entire moment, this entire night, didn’t make sense. But then, at the same time, it definitely did— all of this simply felt inevitable. Something equivalent to this moment had been building from the moment you mentioned him and his band in that stupid interview all those months ago and when he then returned the compliment weeks later in his own interview.  

So what was there really to do aside from lean into the inevitable? 

And you also didn’t want to think too much at all. 

What you wanted to do was kiss him. Honestly, you found yourself wanting to be as close as you possibly could be to him in this huge but quiet room. 

Instead, though, for the time being, you softly said, “I have a stupid question too.”

Your hands resting on his shoulders moved to the nape of his neck. The thought of his music was suddenly on your mind too and it was the one thought that you didn’t want to push away. 

Eddie smiled a little. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “That one song you have.” You didn’t even have to say the name for him to know which one you were talking about. “Is it really about…”

You trailed off with your question and Eddie finished it for you. “Cumming?”

You gave him another quick nod. “Yeah.”

If he could ask you about sex scenes, then you could ask about something somewhat equivalent. 

The speculations about what the song was about were there the second it came out, but like most musicians, Eddie never outwardly confirmed nor denied song theories to pretty much any of his songs. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” He said, another teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Anyone can see it how they want to. Everything’s up for interpretation.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Thank you for that interview answer.”

Your gaze settled back on him and you got the sudden urge to run your fingers through his hair, his mop of curls that still looked so effortlessly perfect, so you did. His sigh in contentment was immediate as your fingers twisted in his curls, not at all tugging or pulling, although you were fairly certain he wouldn’t have minded that either. 

“Can I please get a real answer now?” You asked softly and Eddie didn’t hesitate to nod. 

“Yes, it’s about that. But, more specifically it’s about the girl. Making her come,” He told you as a hand pulled away from your hip and instead slipped beneath your dress, traveling upward along the outer part of your thigh. 

“Oh, really?” You said, trying your hardest to feign innocence and nonchalance, even though his words made you want to explode and you could feel something stir deep inside your stomach. You slowly shifted in his lap, spreading your legs a little further and silently telling him where you really wanted his hand to be.  

Eddie picked up on your not-so-subtle hint and his hand finished its journey up your thigh and settled at the waistband of your underwear. “Mhm.”

Silently, he slipped past the thin barrier and you sucked in a quick breath when his middle finger started teasing your already slick folds. 

“Shit, you’re soaked,” He whispered, and all you could do was hum in response. 

One of his fingers slipped inside of you and your eyes squeezed shut and then you couldn’t hold back your loud moan when he immediately added another.

“Eddie…” Was all you could manage to say in the quietest voice as your eyes slipped shut and you focused on the feeling of his fingers inside of you, somehow quickly finding and hitting the most perfect spots. 

“God, you feel so good. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight,” He said, voice low as his thumb found your clit. 

Your head tipped back as another soft moan fell from your lips and Eddie’s mouth immediately went to your now-exposed neck. He nipped and pecked at the soft skin, leaving marks that you were certain would be there later and would be a bitch to cover up, but in that moment you couldn’t find it in you to care in the slightest. 

You couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed about how quickly and easily he was able to bring you so close to coming on his fingers. Your heart hammered in your chest and your stomach twisted up in knots as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

Slowly, you grinded down against him so that you could meet every thrust of his fingers. You started practically riding his hand and the low sound Eddie let out as he watched you made a small smile tug at your lips. 

“Fuck,” He groaned, his other hand squeezing your hip and slightly guiding you. “You’re so perfect.” 

You let out the softest sound. “I'm so close.”

“Yeah, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Come on. Come for me,” Eddie whispered, pulling away from your neck because he wanted to watch you come undone on his fingers. 

And you did. With his thumb expertly circling your clit along with one particularly rough thrust of his fingers, hitting a spot that made you see stars, you were pushed over the edge. Your eyes screwed shut and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming. 

Eddie continued fingering you through your orgasm, waiting until your soft moans faded out and your quick breathing became a little more steady before slowly pulling his fingers out. It was hard not to whimper at the loss of contact as your eyes opened again and you looked at him. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what the song’s about,” He said with a teasing smile on his face as he licked his fingers clean, which was quite literally the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

And it was then that you realized that you hadn’t even kissed him yet, and you further realized that you needed to change that immediately. 

You leaned in and met his lips in the messiest kiss. Tongues clashed and when you tasted yourself on his mouth, you couldn’t bite back your moan. 

Eddie’s hands went to your hips and then circled your back to pull you impossibly closer to him. You wished there were no layers separating the two of you; not your dress and not his suit, nothing. 

“I need you,” You said the three words in between quick kisses. 

“Here?” Eddie whispered against your lips, which made you remember exactly where you two were and pulled you out of the lust-driven haze you were in. 

You parted from Eddie, leaning back a bit and meeting his eyes. “I’m friends with Steve, but I don’t know if our friendship is on that kind of level, so no definitely not here.”

He laughed a little at the playfulness in your tone. “We can go to my place. I’m only like thirty minutes from here.”

“That sounds perfect,” You smiled at him and then kissed him one more time before shifting off of his lap and then standing up to readjust your dress on slightly wobbly legs.

The party was still in full swing when you and Eddie emerged from the theater room and headed back into the living room, so no one took notice of you and him slipping out the front door.  

Eddie’s hand found yours as you two waited for the car to come and he didn’t drop it once you two were settled in the backseat, sitting as close as you possibly could be.  

The smallest part of you wondered when some sort of logical thinking was going to settle in. You never did things like this; it was rare that you simply even kissed someone that you just met, let alone did anything more. However, you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable and okay with someone new either, and that made you understand that this was the logical thing to do. Everything about this moment simply felt right. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eddie whispered to you, mouth right at your ear. 

“You,” You answered, voice matching his soft tone, and the smile he gave you in response was probably the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. 

[loguine-linguine]

Ok hear me out!!!

Steve is a musician who sings pop music and posts on TikTok. He’s kind of a C-ish list celebrity (definitely a bit of a nepo baby) and his music is poppy and catchy. It’s the kinda stuff that you can immediately tell is coming from someone who is actively holding things back/ isn’t writing from any truth. Mall music at its purest form. Then one day with no announcement Steve drops a double sided album that is like GOOD GOOD pop music. It’s also noted very quickly that the pronouns in all the songs have definitely switched to he/him. People freak out and he starts charting for the first time in his career. Kinda Chappell Roan-esque situation where he skyrockets to being a queer pop icon very very quickly.

He starts doing interviews. He shows up to these interviews in outfits aren’t dramatically changed from what he usually wore (polos, jeans, bomber jackets, 80s jock vibes) but it’s all just much more camp. The cropped shirts are shorter, the jeans are tighter, and the colors are all suddenly pastel. He has also started wearing makeup (not heavy makeup but it’s definitely a lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, highlight/blush on the tip of his nose type situation). He shares that he dropped his old producer (who he had been set up with by his father) and that he’s now working with his best friend Robin. He comes out as gay, talks about his struggle with comp-het, and proudly shares that he is super excited to contribute to the growing movement of music that is being written by queer people, for queer people. His TikTok also blows up.

This is when Tommy Hagan first starts showing up. Tommy is an actor who is pretty well known for doing teen drama TV shows (like Riverdale type deals). He introduces himself to Steve at some sort of industry event right after Steve gets big and pretty quickly starts showing up in his TikTok videos. It comes out that the two are dating pretty quickly after that. They date off and on for about a year and a half. Tommy is a shitty enough boyfriend that even Steve’s fans don’t like him. He stands him up for dates, embarrasses him at events, says rude and dismissive things about his music, etc. Robin (who is also kinda famous by proxy/writes her own music now similar to Billie Eilish and Finneas) absolutely hates his guts. Publicly. They finally break up officially after Tommy cheats on Steve with an actress named Carol who is on a show with him. It gets exposed by the tabloids and Steve finds out by seeing a photo of them making out on one of those celebrity drama TikTok accounts.

Eddie is also getting famous around this same time. He’s the lead for Corroded Coffin and also starts acting occasionally in horror films. He doesn’t really pay much attention to other celebrities or the drama that goes on. He was never into that kind of thing before the band took off so he doesn’t see why he should now. Eddie and the rest of the band are at an awards show of some sort and the others make fun of him the whole time. He can’t stop staring at this absolutely beautiful man sitting at a table near them. “The guy is wearing a slutty little lace shirt, the tightest pants in existence, and has skin that looks like honey and caramel had a child Gareth you really can’t blame me honestly.” Steve and Eddie don’t officially meet until the after party where they immediately hit it off.

A few months later Steve announces a new album and releases a single. It’s just Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter but gay and clearly about Tommy.

The music video comes out and people loose their minds. It’s the same sort of video as what Sabrina Carpenter just released for Please Please Please with the stunning outfits and the whole bad boy thing. Steve spends the whole video in dresses and skirts. There’s even a corset at one point. The bigger freak out is the fact that the Barry Keoghan equivalent is Eddie and its a hard launch of their relationship that fans had absolutely zero clue was even a possibility because why would horror/metal man Eddie Munson even know Steve Harrington???? Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys think the whole thing is hilarious. Eddie and Steve are so so happy :)

[faiszt]

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

୨୧ ⠀ ◟ ͜ ׁ ˙ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ׁ ˙ ◞⠀⠀ lady gaga ’s⠀MAYHEM⠀edition! ❦

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀hi, lovies! it took a lil’ while, but here’s my second album drop bot! i’m in love with mayhem and i needed to make bots based on this amazing album (and some bonuses at the end). i hope you like it and if you wanna check, i also made a bot drop of tate mcrae ’s think later.⠀anyway, have fun with the bots! bye, bye! ~ 𖹭

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O2: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀abracadabra⠀.⠀aegon ii targaryen⠀૮⠀skeptical in a world where he’s a dragonrider with violet eyes, aegon is completely incredulous that a lady like you, who lives on the street of silk, could be a true clairvoyant witch who’ll reveal his future.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀female!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀witch!user

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O3: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀garden of eden⠀.⠀robert reynolds⠀૮⠀after so long, he had forgotten what real parties were like and although it was a terrible idea to go to one with his friends, he went anyway, impulsive as always, and he didn’t even need to get drunk to start dancing with a stranger when no one was looking at him.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O4: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀perfect celebrity⠀.⠀finnick odair⠀૮⠀the 74th hunger games were about to take place, the capitol was anxious for the reaping that would happen that week and your job as a trusted capitol intern was to interview the ladies' darling, finnick odair. oh, but don’t forget! he can’t talk more than he’s allowed to.⠀⠀⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀⠀ ✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O5: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀vanish into you⠀.⠀bucky barnes⠀૮⠀almost 80 years since he last saw you, he still had a picture of you next to his bed and even in secret, his biggest fear was to forget what your face looked like. but, what would happen if you just ran into each other on the street one day? as if you hadn’t spent the last few years looking for it in every opportunity. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O6: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀killah⠀.⠀steve harrington⠀૮⠀look, it’s not that steve is an idiot who can’t speak and stutters every time he sees you, that’t not it! he has confidence and self-esteem... it’s just hard to breathe when you look like a really pretty killer ready to kill him.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O7: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀zombieboy⠀.⠀percy jackson⠀૮⠀probably, he was the biggest jerk and party animal at that whole college, the kind that many loved and many hated. but, now, after knowing that he broke up with his girlfriend, something else could happen.⠀⠀⠀ female!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀frat!percy

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O8: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀lovedrug⠀.⠀rhett abbott⠀૮⠀what was there between you and him if not a broken relationship? he had broken up with you two weeks ago, swearing it’d be the best for both of you, until he goes looking for a stiff drink and finds you dancing alone at the bar.⠀female!user⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK O9: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀how bad do u want me⠀.⠀natalie scatorccio⠀૮⠀what’s the harm in just accepting that you like the bad girl in her? stop acting like it’s a big problem for your perfect life, stop thinking so much! natalie just... wants to be with you, and if she can’t get that, she drinks, drinks and drinks again, prone to do shit.⠀⠀ female!user⠀⠀ ✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK 1O: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀don’t call tonight⠀.⠀carmen berzatto⠀૮⠀the same old thing: things seemed fine, then you argued, it was all over and you told him not to call you. bullshit, he’d call anyway and you’d come back, one way or another, things won’t change anytime soon.⠀neutral!user⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK 11: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀shadow of a man⠀.⠀haymitch abernathy⠀૮⠀you didn’t see it as being selfish, but you also couldn’t deal with the possibility of it being—it was just what you felt, like you were in haymitch’s shadow the whole time. apparently, he’s the one who won the games and you were just the damsel in distress he saved. this will change, this has to change.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀female!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀co-victor!user

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK 12: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀the beast⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀red eyes, devilish smile. this was clark kent—or rather, kal—the only way you knew him, a beast who knew exactly when he needed and wanted you. no talking, you know very well that he didn’t come here to talk.⠀⠀⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀red-k!clark

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK 13: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀blade of grass⠀.⠀robb stark⠀૮⠀from the day he wrapped a blade of grass around your finger and told you that you were his love and his queen, you knew robb would never let you go, even if it meant making more enemies than he could handle.⠀⠀female!user⠀⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O1: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀john wayne⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀what could you do if you really liked cowboys? no matter how many times your parents told you to stay away from him, he always came back into your life and you always got back into his mustang again.⠀⠀ neutral!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀cowboy!art

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O2: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀telephone⠀.⠀cate dunlap⠀૮⠀your asshole boyfriend is breaking up with you over the phone? seriously, how sad! cate couldn’t believe it, he’s the biggest bastard, isn’t he?even though she was the one who had rejected all his first three calls on your phone.⠀⠀ female!user⠀⠀ ✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O3: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀alejandro⠀.⠀franco colapinto⠀૮⠀you couldn’t care less who came or went in your love life, you didn’t like it when things took too long ’cause they made you tired. but, franco can’t deal with it, that’s the reason you broke up with him? no, you can’t do it!⠀ neutral!user⠀⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O4: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀judas⠀.⠀owen taylor⠀૮⠀was it an exaggeration to think that the pastor’s son, responsible for your biblical teachings, was like the image of judas iscariotes? a traitor in his essence, using you and everyone around him to remain in his own lie. ⠀ ⠀ female!user⠀⠀⠀✴⠀·⠀୧

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O5: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀paparazzi⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀your personal stalker, actor by day, paparazzi by night. patrick couldn’t handle a life where you weren’t the center of his thoughts, you can push him away, but not for long, he always found a way to get back.⠀⠀ ⠀⠀neutral!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀stalker!pat

⠀ 𝇈 𓈒 ︎ ּ⠀⠀TRACK BONUS O6: ⠀ ♥︎ ⠀⠀◟ ୨

𝅭⠀diamond heart⠀.⠀robert floyd⠀૮⠀was it possible to fall in love with someone he barely knew? bob wasn’t sure, you were young and wild, but perfect in his eyes and he didn’t really care about the rest when he can just bring you closer.⠀⠀ female!user⠀⠀·⠀୧⠀⠀stripper!user

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don’t use my work without my consent.

[nicolejones412]

Out of Sync

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: Thunderbolts* really just has me going back to my roots, just now I'm more of a Bucky girl than a Steve one. Enjoy this first semi-fluffy chapter! (No Thunderbolts spoilers for quiiiite a few chapters).

FIC:

You couldn't wait for Agent Carter to join you in Italy.

You had been sent ahead with a small SSR outfit to prep for more of the Strategic Scientific Reserve to join you once you had confirmed the intel you'd received about Hydra's base.

You were pretty sure you were only sent because Colonel Phillips could only deal with having both you and Peggy around so much.

You sighed as you dismissed a soldier you'd been interviewing.

If you heard one more man ask-

"Now what's a beautiful dame doing out here?"

You looked up at the dark haired man that had entered your tent, completing your thought for you.

"My job, Sergeant...?"

"Barnes, ma'am. Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes." He took a seat.

"Nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes, I am Agent Grace with the Strategic Scientific Reserve. I understand you may have noticed something strange on assignment?"

"Well ma'am I am a sniper. It's my job to notice things."

You sighed. If these soldiers would get over the fact that you were wearing a skirt for 2 seconds you might actually get some good information today. Unfortunately it seemed like this was about to be another waste of your time.

"The soldiers we faced last week, they weren't wearing normal uniforms. They had a different symbol. Some kind of octopus."

"That would be the symbol of Hydra. Hitler's rogue science division."

"Well they must have some kind of mad genius working for them. Their weapons aren't normal guns. They weren't firing bullets. More like just blue beams."

"Blue beams?"

"Check with medical. Not nearly enough bullet wounds for what went down."

"I will check on that. Anything else that might be helpful?"

"They retreated west. There weren't very many of them, but they were quick."

You wrote down what he'd told you.

"Thank you for your time Sergeant Barnes."

"Of course." He stood and held out his hand to shake yours.

You looked at his hand for a moment before standing to shake it. As you looked at his eyes, something felt familiar.

He nodded to you and went to exit the tent, pausing before leaving.

"Sorry if I offended you ma'am, when I first came in. I meant it as a compliment."

You shook your head. "None taken Sergeant. Stay safe out there."

He chuckled. "I will do my best."

The next day the 107th went after Schmidt's men.

Two days later, Peggy and the rest of the SSR that was coming arrived, and you'd reported your findings from the interviews.

"Magic blue weapons? That's what you have for me?" Colonel Phillips asked.

"That's about all the men reported back. Other than confirming that it was Hydra who carried them."

Phillips shook his head. "It's not a lot to go on."

"I think we might be able to triangulate the position of their base, sir."

"We'll see what we hear from the 107th. There's got to be a way to-"

A soldier ran into the tent.

"Colonel, the 107th is back. At least, what's left of it."

-

You looked out into the rain, listening to Captain America's show in the distance.

"What's got you so down?" Peggy asked behind her.

You shook your head as you turned to get back to work. "So many soldiers. I just can't believe he-they are gone."

"He?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Forget it. A slip of the tongue."

"I see."

She could see right through you, but wouldn't push the issue as she walked away to speak with Captain Rogers. You were grateful.

You'd had one conversation with the man. Why did the fact that he was most likely dead feel so...wrong? Soldiers die every day in war. He wasn't even that nice to you.

He wasn't dead. You knew it. You felt it. But why did it matter?

A few minutes later, you watched as Captain America ran through the mud to Colonel Phillips tent. You followed as quickly as you could.

"Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

"I can spell." Colonel Phillips paused before standing. He looked at you, then down at the papers he was holding.

"I've signed more of these condolence letters today than I care to count. But the name does sound familiar." He looked up at the captain.

"I'm sorry."

"What about the others?" Rogers asked. "Are you planning a rescue mission?"

"Yeah it's called winning the war."

"But if you know where they are why not at least-"

"They're 30 miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save, but I don't expect you to understand that because you're a chorus girl."

Rogers set his jaw.

"I think I understand just fine."

"Then understand it somewhere else." Colonel Phillips began to walk away. "If I read the posters correctly you've got some place to be in 30 minutes."

You followed the captain's eyes to the map on the wall.

"Yes sir. I do."

You and Peggy locked eyes before following Steve out of the tent.

-

Sending the one successful super soldier you had behind enemy lines probably was not the best idea, but there was no stopping Steve.

And someone had to cause a distraction to cover their exit.

"Are you insane?!" Colonel Phillips lectured.

"Captain Rogers was going with or without-"

He scoffed. "Captain Rogers? He's a barely trained circus monkey and the most expensive asset the United States army has created and you helped him go against my orders."

He slammed his fist on the desk as Agent Carter walked into the tent.

"You're both going straight back to the typing pool after this stunt."

"Colonel-"

"Not another word. Or would you like to explain to the Secretary of Defense why Captain America - the only super soldier we have is gone?"

There was a commotion outside as soldiers ran to the gate. You and Peggy looked at each other before following the Colonel.

You reached the gate just in time to see Captain America lead the 107th back into camp.

"Sir," Steve addressed the colonel. "I turn myself over for disciplinary action."

Phillips looked around at the men who he'd frankly assumed were dead.

"That won't be necessary."

Your gaze wandered from Steve to the man next to him. Who was already looking at you. You nodded to him, and he nodded back before turning to look at Steve.

"Let's hear it for Captain America!"

You joined in as the crowd cheered.

-

"Knock, knock?"

You looked up from your desk. "Sergeant Barnes. I assumed you'd be at the celebration."

"I was, but something just didn't feel right."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He looked around at the otherwise empty tent.

"You weren't there."

You looked up from your notes and maps for the first time. "I am flattered Sergeant-"

"Bucky," he corrected.

You smiled. "Bucky. I am flattered but I didn't do much, and there is plenty still to be done."

"Yes, yes of course, Agent Grace." He turned to leave but then turned back around.

"Come on, let me buy you a drink."

"Sergeant-"

"Bucky."

"Right, Bucky, that really isn't-"

"Steve wouldn't have made it out of camp without your help. Come on, one drink."

You shook your head. "I just-"

"It can wait. A drink, some food, and some sleep will do you good."

You sighed. "Fine."

Bucky's grin grew from ear to ear. "Perfect."

-

Read Part 2 here.

A/N: All will make sense eventually. I hope. 😊 This will not be an entirely 1940s era fic, so if you're here for that, heads up that I'm only planning another chapter or 2 of this vibe.

[steddieas-shegoes]

it's not ever what it looks like

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'

rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.

Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.

But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.

Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.

But not daily for over a week.

He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.

And now this article.

There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.

The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?

Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.

Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.

It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.

Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.

He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.

He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.

Steve called Gareth.

"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."

"What's going on?"

Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"

"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."

"Steve-"

"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"

"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"

"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."

Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.

He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.

Until now.

It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.

No time to wallow.

He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.

"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."

"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.

She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.

"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened!"

"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"

Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.

Steve nodded once.

Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."

"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.

She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.

His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.

Eddie walked through his door.

He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.

"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.

"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."

The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.

He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.

The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.

He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.

He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."

Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.

"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."

Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.

He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.

"No, Steve, you don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."

Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.

Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.

Many of them from Eddie himself.

"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.

So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.

But then he started playing the voicemails.

"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."

"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."

"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."

Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.

"Well?" He asked, broken.

"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.

"Great for him."

"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."

At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.

But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.

"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.

"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."

Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.

Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.

He just needed to feel him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”

“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”

Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.

“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”

“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”

“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”

“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”

Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.

That bastard.

“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”

“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.

“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”

Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”

“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."

"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"

"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."

"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."

"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."

"You're ridiculous."

"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.

"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.

"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."

"I'm not doing that."

"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."

"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."

[sweetromanova]

Off The Record: Part Three🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Criminal Defense Lawyer!Original Female Character

Summary: She’s built a career on keeping secrets and defending the worst with nothing to lose. That changed when Natasha Romanoff showed up on the other side of the courtroom.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, psychological manipulation, implied child abuse and trauma, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, human and sex trafficking, war crimes and murder, implied coercion, legal corruption, gun violence, secondary character deaths, power imbalance, blood and injury depiction

A/N: for any lawyers, law students or legally-adjacent folks reading this, i did get some help from a friend when i wrote this but even she wasn’t fully convinced about the accuracy so if anything’s off, just kindly ignore the legal nonsense and roll with it!🖤

Chapter Three

Avengers Secondary Holding Facility, Upstate New York

March 20, 2022

Maria Hill dropped the file onto the conference room table like it was a live grenade. “Motion to suppress Exhibit B, Exhibit E, and preliminary statements from the intake log.”

Across from her, the Avengers looked up from their scattered files and half-drunk coffee. Tony, legs kicked up on the table, slowly lowered his sunglasses. “She’s tossing out our evidence?” He exclaimed. “On what grounds?!”

“Improper chain of custody on the Prague lab samples, lack of independent verification on the digital logs and-” Maria glanced at the page, jaw tightening. “-interrogation without formal counsel present.”

Natasha barely moved, her voice was flat. “That interrogation didn’t even include questions. We asked him to confirm his name when he was brought on to the quinjet.”

“She filed it as a rights violation.” Maria said. “The judge could side with her. Anything gathered between his detainment and her first meeting is inadmissible.”

“She’s good.” Steve muttered. Not admiring, just resigned.

“Too good.” Tony added, spinning his tablet toward him. “Which is why I’ve spent the last four hours looking into her.”

“Stark…” Maria warned but Tony ignored her.

“She’s been a defense attorney in New York for around a decade I believe, maybe less. Passed the bar with a near-perfect score. And then? Radio silence. No social media, no interviews, barely any photos that aren’t court composites or grainy trial press shots.”

Bruce frowned. “That’s not unusual for lawyers, is it?”

Tony leaned forward. “Not for normal lawyers, no. But this one? She’s got classified SHIELD seals on several of her past cases, sealed after trial, not before. You don’t get that kind of protection unless someone upstairs is nervous.”

Maria’s expression tightened. “You were poking into SHIELD casework?”

“I was poking and-” Tony said. “-I found a case involving an international arms dealer five years ago. Guy vanished mid-trial. Sienna filed a motion for mistrial two days later. No ruling. Case disappeared.”

“Off the books?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “More like burned.”

Natasha finally stood. “She’s not just doing her job. She knows how to play the system. She’s ten moves ahead of us and she’s not even sweating.”

Maria turned her screen around for them all to see, a new motion, filed just minutes ago. “Motion to Exclude Expert Testimony of Wanda Maximoff filed on grounds of ‘extrajudicial psychic influence’ and ‘unverifiable cognitive methods that violate federal evidentiary standards’.”

“She’s trying to disqualify Wanda?” Steve said, stunned. “We didn’t even use her, Sienna came before we had the chance.”

“She’s going to win that one.” Maria said, quietly. “We don’t have a precedent for enhanced verification in court. Not legally.”

Bruce leaned back. “She’s dismantling our case before it even gets to trial.”

Tony tossed his stylus onto the table. “Yeah, well, I want to know who trained her to do that.”

Natasha was already halfway to the door.

“Where are you going?” Maria asked.

Natasha didn’t look back. “To find a crack.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Antonia Dreykov’s Residence, Budapest

March 21, 2022

Night settled over Budapest’s old quarter like a weighted blanket. Natasha moved through the alleys with the easy, practiced steps of someone who used to know every corner of this place. A single security light buzzed and flickered above the rusted door of what looked like an old, shut-down print shop. She knocked twice, paused then once more.

A slit slid open, brown eyes that were cool but sharp studied her. “Romanoff.”

“Antonia. I need five minutes.” The lock turned and Natasha slipped inside.

The room was spare with only a folding table, two chairs and a kettle on a hot plate. Antonia Dreykov, once the Taskmaster, wore a black hoodie and a scar that the world would never see, leaned against the wall with her arms folded.

“You don’t visit old classmates unless the world’s ending.” She said, in accented English.

Natasha offered the faintest hint of a smile.  “Not ending. Just… rotting in court.”

She slid a photo across the table of Maksim Vasiliev in all his glory, taken during intake.

Antonia’s eyes hardened. “I remember him. Red Room winter inspections. He watched the proficiency trials. Took notes and offered suggestions.” She exhaled. “Always smelled like antiseptic.”

“I need you to tell a tribunal that.” Natasha said. “Under oath.”

Antonia shook her head. “I was never his prisoner. He didn’t lay hands on me. That makes me an observer, not a victim. A lawyer will shred me.”

“Sienna Blake will try.” Natasha admitted. “But the jury or the judges, just need corroboration. Someone outside HYDRA command structure who can place him inside the Red Room, during live exercises. Connect his ‘theoretical science’ to real girls.”

Antonia stared at the photo a long moment then asked the question Natasha was dreading. “What do you get out of this? Revenge or justice?”

Natasha’s reply was quiet but edged. “Both, if the system lets me.”

Finally, Antonia nodded once. “One condition. My testimony is sealed after court. No press. No cameras. I give you what I saw then disappear.”

“Done.” Natasha promised, without hesitation. “Maria Hill will handle the protective paperwork.”

Antonia grabbed a battered backpack, already packed up and ready to run. Natasha knew all too well that she’d done that several times in the past. “Then let’s go. I still owe that man a scar.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The Avengers Compound, Upstate New York

March 22, 2022

Maria looked up from a stack of motions as Natasha walked in with Antonia at her side. “Tell me that’s not who I think it is.” Maria said, glancing at the bandana that covered half of Antonia’s face.

“Antonia Dreykov.” Natasha confirmed. “Firsthand witness. She’ll place Vasiliev inside the Red Room on multiple dates between 2000 and 2010, observing live neural‑conditioning trials.”

Maria’s brows lifted. “That ties him directly to human experimentation outside his lab network. Undermines his whole ‘I just signed papers’ defense.”

“And it’s not evidence collected before counsel.” Natasha added.  “Fresh witness, voluntary.”

Antonia folded her arms.  “Your tribunal has a witness list form?”

Maria almost smiled. “Several.” She flipped open a new file. “Blake is going to contest relevance and credibility but if we can corroborate Maksim’s travel logs with Red Room intel, the judge should allow it.”

Natasha’s eyes were cool and focused for the first time in this trial.  “One crack at a time.”

Tony’s voice drifted in from the doorway, tablet in hand.  “Good news travels fast. Jarvis just pinged that Blake filed another motion at 05:30.”

Natasha didn’t look away from Maria. “Let her file. We have our own play now.”

Maria nodded, sliding a witness submission form across the table to Antonia. “Welcome to the fight.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Federal Tribunal Courtroom, Washington, D.C.

March 24, 2022

The courtroom wasn’t overly grand but it felt like it was carved from stone. It was all marble pillars, high ceilings, and silence so thick it pressed against your ears. Three tribunal judges sat in elevated chairs, stern-faced and unreadable.

In the gallery, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Bruce, Clint, Bucky, Wanda and Tony lined the second bench. SHIELD’s legal team flanked Maria Hill, who sat rigid at the prosecution’s table.

Across from them, seated alone like she owned the goddamn floor was Sienna Blake.

Charcoal grey suit, heels like blades and not a hair out of place. A single black folder sat before her. No laptop. No assistant. She didn’t need them.

The clerk called the hearing to order. The judges gave nods then the lead judge began. “Counsellor Blake, you may proceed with your motions.”

Sienna stood smoothly. No notes. Just that controlled, deliberate walk toward the center. “Your Honours...” She began, voice calm and unshaken. “The defense respectfully moves to suppress the following. Preliminary intake statements made without legal counsel present, Second, a laboratory sample data lacking verified chain-of-custody documentation. Third, an expert testimony from an individual identified as ‘Wanda Maximoff’ on grounds of unverifiable psychic influence. And finally a witness testimony from Antonia Dreykov, on relevance and credibility grounds.”

There was a quiet intake of breath from SHIELD’s table and the second row. Maria didn’t blink. But Natasha stiffened. How the hell did she know about Antonia already? It was processed as close to the deadline as possible.

The lead judge looked over his glasses. “Ms. Blake, we’ll take each motion in order. Begin with the intake statements.”

Sienna nodded. “My client was detained for over six hours without legal representation. During that time, he was asked to verify documents, names, and operations he allegedly oversaw. Regardless of tone or intention, this constitutes an interrogation. It violates federal and international rights of due process.”

Maria stood. “He was read his rights. He refused counsel initially. Can I add this was all on his way into custody? No formal interrogation took place.”

“Refusal made without full capacity.” Sienna countered. “We have a pending psychiatric evaluation confirming impaired decision-making at the time.”

The judges conferred briefly. “Motion to suppress preliminary statements is granted.”

Tony swore under his breath. Natasha’s fingers tightened into fists. “Next.” The judge ordered.

“Chain of custody for Exhibit E.” Sienna continued. “The Prague lab samples, while potentially damning, were transported through three countries, two field agents and an undocumented private courier. No signed custody, no uninterrupted seal.”

Maria leaned forward. “We have timestamped photos and transfer logs.”

“And I have a U.S. v. Arvello precedent that ruled such documentation as insufficient under federal rules of evidence,” Sienna said, almost bored. “Even when a case involved nerve agents.”

A second pause. The center judge sighed. “Motion to exclude Exhibit E is granted.”

Steve murmured. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Welcome to the justice system.” Bruce muttered back.

“Third motion.” The judge prompted.

“Expert testimony from Wanda Maximoff.” Sienna said. “Her enhanced status may give her certain abilities, but the court cannot verify the accuracy of her cognitive impressions. There’s no precedent for psychics in federal court and no method of cross-examination to test the validity of her ‘truth detection.’”

Maria started to argue but the judge cut her off.

“This issue has been discussed previously. Without scientific validation, the tribunal cannot accept such testimony. Motion to exclude is granted.”

A cold, satisfied smile flickered on Sienna’s lips, so brief, it might’ve been imagined. ““Final motion.” The judge spoke. “Antonia Dreykov.”

Sienna nodded. “The defense questions the credibility and relevance of this witness. She cannot place my client in proximity to any specific criminal act, nor claim to be a victim. Her testimony is speculative and possibly biased due to past affiliations with the accuser, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha stood. “Permission to speak, Your Honour.”

The judge considered. “Granted.”

“She’s not biased. She was there. I brought her in because I’ve been in those same rooms. Maksim Vasiliev didn’t just design the science. He watched it break people.”

Sienna’s tone stayed even. “And yet no record of his participation exists in SHIELD files, no documents, no signed orders. Just implication.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Implication’s enough when you know what to look for.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Motion to exclude Dreykov testimony is denied, pending further evidentiary review.”

Sienna didn’t react. She simply inclined her head and returned to her seat.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Outside of the Federal Tribunal Courtroom, Washington, D.C.

March 24, 2022

The team exited in a tense, quiet crowd. Maria was reviewing the judges’ notes, eyes darting through paperwork.

Tony muttered. “That woman just disarmed three-quarters of our main evidence in this case without breaking a sweat.”

“She’s not just defending him.” Steve sighed. “She’s challenging everything we are.”

Natasha stopped at the edge of the marble steps, jaw tight. She looked down the block and there she was.

Sienna, standing calmly beside a black car, talking quietly into her phone. She glanced up once.

Their eyes met.

Sienna didn’t smile. She didn’t gloat.

She simply looked at Natasha the way you’d look at a chessboard… and she was moving her knight.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Conference Room, Federal Tribunal Court, Washington, D.C.

March 25, 2022

The conference room was stark, a sharp contrast to the courtroom’s glory. A low table, somber faces and piles of legal documents formed a barricade between allies and adversaries. At the head sat Judge Harmon, the presiding officer from the tribunal, flanked by Maria, Sienna, and Natasha.

“Ms. Blake-” Judge Harmon began, voice even. “-your motions have been noted. The tribunal will allow subpoenas for further witnesses but they must be submitted within 48 hours.”

Sienna nodded, serene as ever. “Understood, Your Honour. We have a preliminary list, experts on psychiatric forensics, SHIELD operations analysts and an international witness whose testimony will be critical.” Maria exchanged a glance with Natasha but said nothing. 

“Agent Romanoff-” Judge Harmon turned to Natasha. “-your testimony will be scheduled. And any classified information must be vetted through SHIELD’s legal office before presentation.”

Natasha’s eyes didn’t waver. “Understood.”

The judge folded his hands. “This tribunal expects transparency and cooperation. The court will hold everyone accountable.”

The meeting adjourned swiftly, leaving a charged silence.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Holding Area, Federal Tribunal Court, Washington, D.C.

March 25, 2022

Sienna and Natasha exited together, the crowd thinning until it was just the two of them.

The tension hung like smoke between them.

Natasha broke the silence first. “You play a dangerous game, Sienna. Defending a monster like Vasiliev, and doing it so well. It’s… infuriating.”

Sienna’s eyes glinted, sharp but not unkind. “I’m just doing my job. Everyone deserves a defense, even monsters. If you want to bring him down, you’ll have to fight me and the law first.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “You’re not just a lawyer. You’re a weapon in a suit and block heels.”

Sienna smiled faintly. “And you’re a soldier with nothing but your fury. But this isn’t a battlefield anymore.”

Natasha stepped closer. “Maybe not. But I won’t back down.”

Sienna’s smile softened, almost a hint of respect. “Neither will I.” 

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 8, Unexpected - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian, bad jokes all around, Jade Carthage (she's a warning at this point), mentions of Bucky's sad past.

Word Count: 851

Previously On...: You and Bucky were enjoying some Thai makeout takeout in the common room, but you were rudely interrupted. Now you have to deliver Jade to her new room. And why is Steve acting like such a dick?

A/N: A short Part 2 for your 2sday! Feeling generous; might post Part 3 later today; idk. Just kidding; I'm going to do it, either on one of my breaks or when I get home from work, lol.

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows

You were leaning against a couch and mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed when Jade walked back into the common room about twenty minutes later.

"Where's Sergeant Barnes?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Bathroom," you said, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Should be back in a minute."

Jade sighed and walked closer to you, her stiletto heels sending her towering above your head. "You know, you really don't have to come with us," she drawled, as if offering you a way out was doing you some kind of favor. "I'm sure Bucky can show me to my room all by himself. There's no need for you to inconvenience yourself to babysit him. Unless, of course, you don't trust him around me." She smirked at you, emerald eyes hard and cutting.

You chuckled, moving away from the couch and standing up straight, though you couldn't hope to match her height. "It's no trouble at all," you replied, your tone sickeningly saccharine. "I'd hardly call it an inconvenience to take a nanosecond to point to your door while my boyfriend and I are already on our way back to my room to fuck."

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Jade seethed at you. Well. That took you aback.

"Excuse me?" you countered. "I'm a bitch?"

"It wasn't enough for you to humiliate me in front of Stark and Rogers during my interview, but you had to go and make a play for Bucky once you knew I was interested in him," Jade scoffed. "That was a real mature stunt you pulled at dinner, by the way, storming off like a baby, hoping he'd follow you."

You stared at her, at a loss for words. She couldn't be serious; no one suffered this heavily from Main Character Syndrome. "Look," you said after staring at her for a moment, "you're free to think whatever you want, but Bucky and I--"

"You and I what, Sweets?" Bucky returned from the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple. "Hey, Vixen; ready to see your new home away from home?"

Jade battered her lashes up at him. "I can't wait, Sergeant," she purred at him.

"Uh, Bucky's just fine," he said, a slight blush creeping up the side of his neck. You couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. No, you reminded yourself. You two were in a good place. It wouldn't do you any good working yourself up over something that was most likely nothing. Instead, you took Bucky's hand.

"Ready to go, then?" you asked him. "The sooner we show Jade here her room, the sooner you and I can take advantage of my impromptu half day."

It was a tense trip from the common room down to your floor, though Bucky was doing his best to keep up a casual and friendly conversation.

Exiting the elevator onto your floor, Jade said: "Sorry if this is overstepping but, they kept you at the facility in Siberia, didn't they?" You froze in your steps, immediately squeezing Bucky's hand as you felt his entire body go rigid alongside you.

"Jade," you said, your voice almost pleading, "he doesn't really like to talk--"

"Yes," said Bucky, stiffly, as though his voice was coming on autopilot. "Yes, they did."

"They kept me there for a little while in the early 2000s," she said. "I wonder if our time there ever overlapped."

Bucky coughed into his hand. "I, uh... I wouldn't really be able to tell you. I was on cryo most of the time."

Jade gave a soft laugh. "Nu, dazhe ne nakhodyas' na l'du, etogo mesta bylo dostatochno, chtoby zastavit' menya nenavidet' kholod do kontsa moyey grebanoy zhizni." Well, even without being on ice, that place was enough to make me hate the cold for the rest of my fucking life.

Bucky's barked a short but genuine laugh, startling you. "Kholodneye, chem ved'minskaya sis'ka, ya prav?" Colder than a witch's tit, am I right?

"Vo vsyakom sluchaye, kholodneye, chem moi sis'ki." She said to him with a wink. Colder than my tits, anyway.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed aloud at that, and Jade shot you a side smirk. You rolled your eyes.

"If you want to stand here all day and make jokes about tits, Bucky, I may as well go back to work." Your voice was annoyed as you made to extract your hand from his and move away, but Bucky's grip on you tightened.

"What? No! You are not going back to work, Doll," he said as he pulled you into him, letting his arms envelop you. "Vix, your door's right over there," he pointed down the hall, "and please feel free to let us know if you need anything. But for now, if you'll excuse us," without warning, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a goddamn caveman, "I have to fix it so work's the last thing on this one's mind." With a grin, he carried your shrieking self down the hall and into your room.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[posttexasstressdisorder]

The 'cracks' are showing: Behind the battle for who leads the GOP when Trump is gone

U.S. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) gestures, on the first day of the 119th Congress at the U.S. Capitol in Washington, U.S.,January 3, 2025. REUTERS/Evelyn Hockstein

John Stoehr

July 01, 2025 | 05:33AM ET

This article was paid for by AlterNet subscribers. Not a subscriber? Try us and go ad-free for $1. Prefer to give a one-time tip? Click here.

The Postrevealed Sunday that American spy agencies intercepted phone calls between Iranian officials who said the US bombing of that country’s nuclear facilities wasn’t as bad as they expected it to be.

The president has said, and continues to say, that the bombing two weekends ago had “completely and totally obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program, but Donald Trump’s lips were moving, so he was lying.

Yesterday’s report piggybacks on reporting from last week by most of the major news outlets about an internal Pengaon assessment that found that Iran’s nuclear programs had been set back by a few months, not decades, and certainly not to the extent the White House claims.

That there wasn’t much damage explains Iran’s tepid response to the bombing. It launched rockets at US troops stationed in Qatar, but they were easily shot down. The attack was little more than face-saving.

It also explains Trump’s cavalier attitude toward Iran’s counterstrike. Evidently, the Iranians told him they’d fire rockets at a certain time on a certain day, and Trump, by his own admission, said that’d be “fine.”

The president wanted a made-for-TV ending and Iran’s feeble counterstrike was an empty gesture befitting of a made-for-TV war.

But empty gestures don’t hold together ceasefires.

The Iranians have more incentive to pursue a nuclear weapon. That gives the Israelis more incentive to restart their war. So the prospect of broader conflict in the Middle East is very much alive, no matter how much Trump boasts to the world about being a peacemaker.

Which brings me to my recent interview with Steve Millies and what he thinks the Democrats in the Congress can do to constrain Trump.

A political scientist who is a professor of theology at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, Millies told me that while the Democrats play to their base with talk of impeachment, they could be driving a wedge between Republicans over funding of war with Iran.

“Trump is in a more precarious political position than most presidents have been when they've ordered the military into action,” he told me.

“I think there's a good opportunity here for Democrats.”

Below is the first part of my interview with Professor Millies. Later, I will publish the second part, where he explains how the technological forces that corroded the Republicans also corroded the Democrats.

The Democrats reacted to Trump's decision to bomb Iran in the usual norms-and-institutions kind of way we can expect from them. You have said they can do more, especially in the Senate.

They're right to call [his conduct] impeachable. The trouble is that there is so much other impeachable conduct and none of it's going anywhere. Republican majorities won't allow it. So it's futile, but more importantly, I want to say that only norms and institutions will save us.

That all being said, I think the Iran attack offers a different sort of opportunity. We know the GOP is fractured over this bombing anyway – look at Marjorie Taylor Greene. Introducing an amendment modeled on the Case-Church amendment that ended the Vietnam War, an amendment to prohibit funding combat operations in Iran, has some interesting political possibilities. It can fracture the GOP while they're struggling to cobble together a budget that can pass under the Byrd rule. Even if an amendment fails, it means the GOP owns the war.

That seems like a much better way to approach this problem.

So far the Democrats seem to be limiting themselves to demands for congressional approval of war powers. Talk about that part.

War powers are a tricky problem. There hasn't been a congressional declaration since 1941. There have been various kinds of congressional authorizations since. Alexander Hamilton wrote in Federalist Papers 69 that the president is commander-in-chief only in time of actual war, and presumably that means when Congress says there is one.

But modern warfare has made that approach impractical. That's why Congress passed the War Powers Resolution in 1973. But that law founders on interbranch conflict. Presidents have insisted that it is an encroachment on executive power, specifically the president's power as commander-in-chief, which is exclusively a presidential power.

In our time, war powers are a constitutional stalemate, but because the executive is the energetic branch that has the military, presidents have the advantage. The only real power the Congress has here (unless they want to impeach) is the power of the purse, which is exclusively a legislative power. Congress can refuse to fund combat operations, which is what the Case-Church amendment did in 1973.

In those days, it was controversial, because it meant abandoning US forces on the field. Today, when war is conducted from 50,000 feet or from a video screen in Nevada, it's harder to play that card. Combat is more susceptible to being defunded if Congress wants to do it.

I think the GOP leadership would want to line up behind the president. But it won't be easy. Their members are fractured. Even if they manage to block an amendment, they'll have taken full responsibility for a war.

In other words, Trump is in a more precarious political position than most presidents have been when they've ordered the military into action. I think there's a good opportunity here for Democrats.

What's frustrating is to watch them (I think) playing to their base and talking about impeachment without being focused on the very promising opportunity this situation seems to have given them.

Do you think the cracks in the GOP over military intervention are real? They'll have to be if the Democrats are going to exploit them.

That's the big question. It's the first time we've seen MAGA fracture over anything. Trump has had an eerie power to defy political gravity for 10 years, and maybe he'll defy gravity here too despite all of the political vulnerability I see – vulnerability that I want to emphasize is unlike any other modern use of military power I can think of.

Maybe they'll all swallow their doubts and fall back in line, especially if a ceasefire holds and it starts to look like Trump has brought us peace.

But the other thing I think is important is that people like Greene and Thomas Massie are (it seems to me) floating trial balloons about the future. Trump is a 79-year-old man and at least for now, we think, he is term-limited. The biggest question in the Republican Party is the one nobody talks about – who leads the GOP when Trump is gone?

I have been thinking some of the fracturing we are seeing is a quiet exploration of that question, especially because what Trump has done flies against America-first isolationism that’s foundational to MAGA.

If any potential successors hope to take his place one day, one good place to stand is on the ground of isolationism. So I'm not sure the cracks over Iran are real, no. But I am sure these questions about the future are. They're the kinds of things politicians think about.

[judyjudybaboodee]

Part 4 of the rockstar robin storyline

taglist !! - @spaghettisquashpasta @bimboliciousdulce @starlockheart

Robin didn’t go back to the hotel that afternoon. She floated back.

Like, hovered. Probably through traffic. Possibly through space-time.

She strolled into the suite like someone who just won the lottery and also maybe saw God. Eddie, Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy were all mid-spread across the living room in various stages of hangover and leftover pizza consumption. Steve looked up first.

“Oh my God, she’s glowing.”

“I am not glowing,” Robin said, glowing.

Nancy raised a brow. “She kissed you?”

"Maybe"

Eddie squealed like the undercover teenage girl he is. “Tell us EVERYTHING.”

Robin let out a breath and sat down.

“She took me to an escape room. Said it was to psych-evaluate me. I panicked, screamed at a fake alien, and she still held my hand afterward.”

Steve choked on his soda. “You screamed?”

“LOUD,” Robin confirmed. “Like, full diaphragm. The guy in the next room probably called his mom.”

Eddie cackled. “Amazing. And she still kissed you?”

Robin nodded slowly. “Yeah. She said I’m weird and twitchy and overthink everything. And then kissed me.”

Jonathan blinked. “...she knows you.”

Robin smiled a little too softly.

“Yeah. She really does.”

---

The second date happened three days later. It would’ve been sooner if Robin hadn’t had interviews and a band meeting and a minor breakdown over whether she could “emotionally survive kissing someone that smart again.”

“Do I bring flowers? Do people still do that?”

“You’re not proposing, you’re going on a date,” Nancy replied, deadpan.

“She could propose,” Eddie said through a mouthful of cereal.

Steve snorted and looked over. “Babe. You seriously think she'd say yes?”

“No. She wouldn't say yes but it would be funny.”

Robin throws a shoe at him.

---

Y/N picked the activity again.

A walk through the botanical gardens, followed by a picnic.

Robin half-expected chaos again — skydiving or possibly illegal goat yoga — but no. It was peaceful. Surprisingly quiet. Birds. Breeze. They sprawled out under a tree. Robin talked about touring, Y/N talked about a class-action case she hated, and they argued passionately about which Pokémon were most emotionally stable.

Y/N giggled through most of it, her laugh bubbling out like it couldn’t be helped, and Robin was so taken by it she forgot to be awkward.

“Hey,” Robin said after a lull, fiddling with a leaf. “Can I kiss you again?”

Y/N looked up, head tilted, the sun catching in her eyes. “Are you going to ask every time?”

“Maybe. Consent is sexy?”

Y/N leaned in, grinning. “It is.”

Then she kissed her, soft and unhurried. The kind of kiss that tugged something deep in Robin’s chest loose.

By the time they were leaving, Y/N casually said:

“So you've met the hedgehog, I also have a cat and a dog, both codependent and mildly unhinged. Wanna meet them?”

Robin’s answer was a very dignified, “Hell yes.”

---

Madame Tiddlywinks was the kind of cat who looked like she paid rent and taxes. Professor Fluffywinks Butternut Squash was a golden retriever with exactly two brain cells and enough love to power a nation.

Robin was immediately tackled.

“Fluffywinks is a slut for affection,” Y/N said fondly.

Robin looked up from the floor where the dog was licking her face. “Same.”

The apartment was cozy. Books stacked everywhere. A row of plushies lined up on the shelf like tiny emotional hostages. A piano in the corner. A security baseball bat behind the door.

Robin walked slowly. Took it all in. “This place feels like you.”

Y/N shrugged, chewing her lip. “It’s my safe zone. My ‘everything can go to shit but this is mine’ space.”

She paused.

“You feel safe, too.”

That was all it took. Robin closed the space between them, kissing her again, deeper this time. Y/N tangled her fingers in Robin’s hair, tugged lightly, and Robin made a sound that absolutely betrayed all her dignity.

Clothes came off in a trail from the hallway to the bed. It wasn’t slow. It was messy and electric and maybe a little desperate, like they’d both been waiting to feel this for a long time.

Y/N was bossy and soft all at once. Robin was breathless and worshipful and maybe a little clingy.

---

Later, wrapped in a blanket and thoroughly wrecked, Robin stared at the ceiling.

Y/N yawned. “You’re doing the overthinking thing.”

Robin turned to her. “I like you. Like... a lot. Enough to say something that’ll probably make me sound like a lovesick moron.”

Y/N blinked. “Try me.”

Robin sat up a little. “I want this. Like, *this-this.* I want you. In a real, committed, ‘you’re my girlfriend and I tell people that’ kind of way.”

Y/N sat up, hair mussed, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, but you're famous. I need it to be public, Robin. No hiding. No ‘just between us.’ I won’t be a secret.”

Robin didn’t hesitate.

“Done. Post it. Parade it. I’ll tattoo your name on my forehead if that’s what it takes.”

“Okay, dial it back, rockstar.”

Robin smiled, nervous but sure. “So?”

Y/N leaned in, brushing their noses together. “So... yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

---

The Instagram post dropped that night.

@robinbuckleyofficial

Photo: Robin in a hoodie. Y/N in her lap. Shuffles in a tiny hat.

Caption: “hard launch.”

The comments:

@therealjonathanbyers : i cant believe you're already dating after 2 days 😭 we haven't even met this girl yet

@eddeeznuts : i get to be best man

-> @hairrington : edmund louise munson back OFF that is MY role

@nancywheeler : About damn time. Was tired of watching you lose your mind over her every three minutes.

[mariacallous]

If you logged on to X or Bluesky this past week, you were likely swept up in the onslaught of posts about Trump’s reciprocal tariffs and the plunging stock market. And, if you follow the tech industry as closely as I do, you probably also noticed who wasn’t posting about the tariffs: many of the same tech founders and CEOs who flanked Trump on Inauguration Day in January. Jeff Bezos, Tim Cook, Sundar Pichai, and Mark Zuckerberg have kept mum on the topic of tariffs (although both Pichai and Zuckerberg have continued posting about AI). Meanwhile, Elon Musk—well, we’ll get to that.

The silence was deafening, considering that the “magnificent seven” collectively lost trillions of dollars in market value following Trump’s tariff announcement last week. But there’s a cold logic behind these tech leaders holding their tongues in public—particularly for those who sell hardware. The US has become a highly volatile nation where the whims of the president must be taken into consideration before using any political chip or making a public statement, especially in an environment where that statement could be irrelevant an hour later.

“The sand doesn’t stop shifting long enough to make a cogent statement,” one top communications executive, who has worked closely with two Big Tech CEOs, tells me.

Tech CEOs aren’t actually staying silent. They’re simply lobbying behind the scenes on their own behalf. Niki Christoff, a Washington, DC, political strategist and former aide to Senator John McCain during his 2008 presidential campaign, says most of the strategizing around trade rules—and conversations with Trump’s staff—are happening through back channels right now. “There’s a lot of personal dialing and trying to get deals done,” she claims.

During Trump’s first term, Cook carefully cultivated a direct relationship with the president in order to lobby him on issues like trade and immigration. I have a hard time imagining Cook isn’t using that direct line now. Nvidia chief executive Jensen Huang, who did not attend the inauguration ceremony, reportedly went to a $1-million-a-head dinner at Mar-a-Lago last week. Shortly afterward, the White House walked back plans to implement export controls on some chips that Nvidia sells to China.

Private back channels allow each tech leader to lobby for specific tariff exemptions. The kind of exemptions that would benefit Nvidia, such as more lenient policies on semiconductor imports for GPUs, differ from what Apple might be angling for, considering the company’s supply chain complexity and its reliance on China. “Broadly opposing tariffs is not useful if business leaders can get exemptions on their own products,” Christoff points out.

At the same time tech CEOs are letting trade organizations, like Business Roundtable, which represents a number of big tech firms including Alphabet and Amazon, do some of their lobbying for them, sources tell WIRED. Business Roundtable CEO Joshua Bolten put out a statement urging the administration to “swiftly reach agreements” with its trading partners and to implement “reasonable exemptions.” The CEOs have also been able to hang back while bankers like JP Morgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon make public assertions about the lasting negative impact of tariffs on the economy, and while billionaire hedge funder Bill Ackman keeps tweeting through it. (And really, what tech CEO wants to be part of a roundup story that also includes the market-cratering tweets of an anonymous X user named “Walter Bloomberg”?)

There have been a few outliers. Amazon CEO Andy Jassy said he believes Amazon’s vast network of third-party sellers might end up passing the cost of tariffs on to consumers. Last week Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella sat alongside Bill Gates and former Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer for an interview with CNBC’s Andrew Ross Sorkin, who asked about tariffs. Ballmer told Sorkin he “took just enough economics in college to [know that] tariffs are actually going to bring some turmoil” and that the “disruption is very hard on people.”

Nadella was more circumspect and took Sorkin’s probing as an opportunity to tout artificial intelligence. “In the short term, I look at it and say, whatever happens, whatever readjustment happens, we are for the first time really supplying what is the essential, nondurable commodity called intelligence,” Nadella said. He went on to say that his second consideration right now is how much compute power the world will need in 25 to 50 years. “I want to keep those two thoughts and then take one step at a time, and then whatever are the geopolitical or economic shifts, we will adjust to it.”

If that doesn’t work out, Nadella has a promising second career in dodgeball.

Among Trump’s inauguration crowd, Musk is now the exception. He, too, has made direct appeals to Trump to drop the tariffs but has also loudly called Trump’s top trade adviser Peter Navarro a “moron” and “dumber than a sack of bricks.” Musk later apologized, adding that the comparison “was so unfair to bricks.” This was after Navarro called Musk a “car assembler”—not a car manufacturer—whose business relies heavily on cheap parts sourced outside of the US. Musk has maintained that Tesla sells the “most American-made cars.”

At least Trump’s buddy-in-chief is willing to stick his neck out, even if the other CEOs aren’t. Except, Musk’s remarks on tariffs are so obviously self-serving. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that he doesn’t care about the health of the average citizen’s retirement account, considering how ruthlessly he’s championing the firing of federal employees and the dismantling of government agencies. If Musk’s not tiptoeing around the president’s volatility, perhaps it’s because he’s a purveyor of his own unique brand of chaos.

Not that long ago, Big Tech leaders might have taken to the public square to issue statements about major social and political issues that affected their employees and the public at large. But these remarks were mostly performative, and we should never have pretended, or allowed ourselves to be convinced, otherwise. Behind the curtain, they were always working the gears of a brutally capitalistic machine. Now, for them, public silence is golden, and private lobbying is worth the world’s stores in gold, especially when faced with an injuriously erratic president.

[fizzigigsimmer]

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 2

The small coastal town of Copperdale. Early Morning.

Morning News Anchor Nancy Wheeler stands outside the Harringrove Cafe - located in the old refurbished bed & breakfast on Shrike Hill.

Assistant: We're rolling!

Nancy: Hello, I'm Nancy Wheeler and this is 'Good Morning with Nancy'. We've got all of your local news, current events, and hot topics!

Nancy: Today's special topic is near and dear to my heart. Copperdale is known for its scenic beach, quaint railroad town, and most recently for the tragic accident at the local library involving a sink hole...

Nancy: But, it also the home of the Harringrove Cafe: which has boomed since its initial launch and brought many tourists to our shores, eager to try their delicious treats. Today, we'll be meeting the owners and getting a rare peek inside the operations at the cafe - along with some exciting news! In fact, here comes one of them now.

Steve joins Nancy at the door, in swim trunks and nothing else.

Nancy: Cut!

Steve: Hi Nancy. Thanks for coming! Are we -

Nancy: Steve! Did you forget the interview was today?

Steve: What? Of course not. Let's do this! I've been looking forward to it all week. Billy too.

Nancy: Steve, we can't do the interview! You're half naked.

Steve: Oh yeah, I woke up late and had to squeeze in my laps this morning. Didn't have time to change. Billy said it would be fine. Add a little sex appeal.

The door opens behind them.

Nancy: *groaning* This is a morning show Steve, a family friendly hour. We don't need sex appeal.

Billy leans in the door.

Billy: Speak for yourself Wheeler. All those grandmas who watch your show need something to wake them up.

Nancy: *sarcastic* Ha ha! You're not funny Billy.

Billy: You're right. I'm hilarious.

Jonathan: ... So are we shooting today or not?

Steve: Definitely shooting! Just give me a chance to go change.

Steve runs inside to get dressed and Nancy sighs.

Nancy: I should have known something like this would happen. He's always in that silly pool. Why does a bakery need a pool anyway?

Billy: I'd explain fun to you Wheeler, but I'm too busy running a business.

Nancy: This isn't a laughing matter Billy! This event is really important to Steve, but more importantly the town. The library helped so many people and bringing it back will do a lot of good. Don't you care what happens to this town?

Billy glowers. He doesn't appreciate being told off. But thankfully, before he can answer Steve's voice interrupts from inside as he rushes back.

Steve: I'm here! I'm ready! It's okay now.

Billy: Is that my shirt!

It most definitely is Billy's shirt. Nancy peers inside the door to see that Steve has grabbed Billy's old lifeguard top, from when he worked at the community pool. She sighs.

Nancy: Come on Jonathan. Let's get some more shots with me while these two figure themselves out.

Jonathan: Yeah let's get some B-roll. I can piece it together with Steve & Billy later.

The Segment:

Harringrove Cafe. This thriving business sits on a picturesque hill overlooking the beach. Once an abandoned Bed & Breakfast, co-owners Steve Harrington and partner Billy Hargrove have turned this local eyesore into a meca for the taste buds.

There's no end to the creativity of their rotating menu, which offers handcrafted treats and a personal delivery service to local residents along with cheerful hospitality!

But this summer, Billy and Steve are leaving the kitchen to undertake their biggest risk yet: A local backing competition! If you've been up on the hill lately you've probably seen the construction of the big tent.

This summer, Harringrove Cafe invites YOU and the whole family to join them in 'The Harringrove Bakeoff' where three teams will go head to head, in the battle of the baked goods! Proceeds from the ticket sales will go toward the Copperdale Library restoration project.

This competition is a big undertaking for the cafe, but it's certainly not the first of its kind. Billy & Steve are known for their creative collaborations with friends, and local artists in the community - many whose artworks can be found on sale in the cafe shop.

I'm Nancy Wheeler, and this has been Good Morning with Nancy. Join us next time: In the coming weeks I'll be revealing more about the competition, the competitors, and how you can help pick Copperdale's very first Best Amateur Baker!

This broadcast is in thanks to and collaboration with @harringrove-cafe

Community members and visitors may visit the cafe, or reach out to Steve & Billy directly with questions about the competition and upcoming menu changes. They ask that you please hold all questions regarding the strange noises heard coming from the cafe last night for their next Ask Harringrove session.

[rpfofficial]

Here's your list (and I did my best to include the better ones):

I can't find it now, but I saw somewhere that — apparently — one of the first times Steve met Jarvis, Steve was in his underwear. Why? "Australian-themed party", and "it was one of those nights" (????).

They've lived together for five years straight, and neither were opposed to doing it again, even though Steve recognised Jarvis wouldn't do his share of the housework.

Their endless raving together in the late 80s/early 90s.

Jarvis's description of Steve: "He's probably the best looking person in the band and lots of girls like him. And I don't blame them!"

The "question for Jarvis from Steve", in Pulp play a game of Consequences; in the NME interview from December 1995.

They've explicitly slept in the same bed, at least once (in a Vox interview from September 1996).

When Steve had a child, Jarvis became intent on having one of his own and on settling down, so much so that this might have indirectly led to him getting engaged to someone he ultimately did not marry. And sure, maybe Steve having a baby and Jarvis doing all that wasn't correlated, but to imagine it that way for RPF's sake isn't hard... Steve is his best friend, and Jarvis has measured his achievements against other people's before. (That same interview where he and Steve slept in the same bed + the sleeve notes on the demo "Modern Marriage". Perhaps a more tinfoil hat type theory than the rest, but fun nonetheless.)

Steve's general protective-boyfriend attitude towards Jarvis, which becomes more noticeable the more you think about it.

In 1998, they went to Japan for promotional work, without the rest of the band. Just the two of them. This was definitely not the only time they've gone off together while Pulp was active, and there's lots of stuff we haven't seen yet from that specific trip which is still emerging today.

Jarvis met Camille at Steve's birthday party.

There's a picture of them where it looks as though they're kissing, taken by Jarvis's then-wife, Camille. And maybe they aren't, but still.

When Pulp: A Film About Life, Death & Supermarkets was coming out, all the band were offered free vacation spots under the conditions they would also do a bit of marketing. Steve and Jarvis stole the best ones for themselves before the rest of the group could even get to the list (in Nick Banks's book).

Their matching outfits, and the fact Jarvis had been known to match outfits with his ex-wife, Camille.

Perhaps this list is getting painfully long. I'm going to stop that there, but there's much more, a lot of which usually leads me to talking about them like an insane person with polaroids pinned on a corkboard connected via red string. That is to say, it'd require a lot more than a tiny list for me to explain it in-depth.

It's very fun to fill in the blanks. Good luck with that sure-to-be fabulous slideshow.

As a final curiosity, and a need to give into my ship salesman urges: have you got any opinions on Russell and Nick together? I've been trying to spread this pairing like a disease.

That's all. Take care.

THIS LIST IS NOT TOO LONG. THIS LIST COULD BE THREE TIMES AS LONG AS THIS AND I'D STILL EAT IT UP. THIS IS FANTASTIC. sorry for the late reply but ohhhh my god okay if you think you've sent a lot of words my answer will also be lengthy so I'll stick it under the cut 👇

but genuinely, I am exactly the kind of person who loves a corkboard-with-red-string of ANYTHING, especially rpf. hence the username. I would love more of your findings and insight and whatever else you got. I love this shit.

all the stuff about them living together & raving together & later DJing together & THE FACT THAT THEY MADE FILMS TOGETHER !! that is all shit been thinking about CONSTANTLY over the past week. earlier my queue posted this interview and steve's part mentions that they had their own little film production company and even sold some stuff to channel 4 and the way the interview question is phrased, like "would YOU AND JARVIS be filmmakers?" like, together? it's so beautiful to imagine that even without pulp they'd be working together!! and outside of pulp in the 2000s + 2010s they were djing and they had their own club IT'S SO CUTE. business partners, music partners, filmmaking partners.... and maybe just regular partners!!

THERE'S SO MUCH HERE THAT I DIDNT KNOW. I NEED the source for that interview where jarv says he first met Steve in his underwear because genuinely that sounds straight from a fanfic that is so funny. also the stuff about them going to Japan by themselves & getting the best vacation spots is so awesome and perfect fuel for my rpf brain.

I think I know which photo u mean, where it looks like they're kissing? but the fact that it was taken by camille is NOT something I knew and that really makes me happy. That makes me very happy. even if they're not kissing!! that's still sweet!!!! I've also seen the interview with steves "question for jarvis" - I immediately screenshotted it and added it to a post I currently have saved in my drafts, labeled under "does anyone else get a bit of a gay vibe from steve and jarvis" 😭😭 i should post that soon...

also you mentioning steves protective boyfriend attitude is so real, I think there was something in an interview during the this is hardcore era where Steve talks about getting really involved in the making of the album, and taking control of the band in a way, and considering the state jarvis was in during that time, there's some things we can extrapolate from that... I'm sure there's other examples of that dynamic coming through more but I can't remember exactly. I'm sure you could help me out.

that part about steve having a kid and jarvis also subsequently thinking about settling down is so interesting and makes sense to me!! I think there's lots of cases like this, especially in relationships between guys in bands. Something about the dichotomy of fame/rock and roll life, and domestic maturity, and how the former allows for the fostering of homoerotic relationships, whereas the latter usually requires those to be cut off or lessened. Not saying this applies to steve and jarv's case but yeah as you say jarv measures himself up to other people's achievements and steve is literally one of his best friend's... his mackey #hismackey

this is such a good list thank you and also I would love more information..... more thoughts.... I love talking abt this stuff but unfortunately most of my closest rpfhead friends don't know anything about pulp so i can't talk abt it with them unless I am just TELLING them stuff, hence why I wanna make the slideshow :)

As for russell and nick... I saw a work about them in the ao3 tag, I'm guessing that was you haha. I'm intrigued by the idea but I don't think I've got enough of an argument for it besides the fact that it compels me – big friendly drummer vs small off-putting violinist/guitarist, nick being notorious for being forgetful and scatterbrained and laid back vs russell being a bit of a control freak who really cared about the admin stuff of the band. I think they're a very funny and endearing match-up and I would love to hear more about them from you. I might read the fic as well hahaha

[padraicratigan]

Excerpts from On Animation: The Director’s Perspective – John Musker, Ron Clements and Rob Minkoff

On Animation: The Director’s Perspective is a two volume collection of interviews with animated film directors. Included are interviews with John Musker, Ron Clements, two of the directors for The Great Mouse Detective, and Rob Minkoff, the supervising animator for Olivia.

John Musker

Bill: With all that animosity in the studio, how did you move on to direct Basil of Baker Street, or I should say The Great Mouse Detective?

John: At this point, Ron Clements had shown the book Basil of Baker Street, about a mouse Sherlock Holmes, to Joe Hale, and he liked it as a possible feature. It was decided that the malcontents on Black Cauldron should leave Black Cauldron to the other directors and form a small unit to work on Basil. Thus, Ron Clements, who was unhappy over the way the story of Cauldron was being adapted, was assigned to Basil along with me as director and veterans Pete Young, Vance Gerry, and writer Steve Hulett. And Ron Miller himself was going to personally produce it. This was Ron’s way of mentoring us I think. As I tried to shape the tone of the movie, I wanted to do more than put a mouse in a deerstalker cap. My tastes in British comedy at the time were heavily influenced by Monty Python and also The Goon Show (British absurdist radio satire with Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan that the Pythons themselves had grown up on). And that was part of what colored my initial version of Basil. Basil was very “John Cleese.” He was manic (and depressive), abrupt, smart, and lacked social graces. Instead of the violin, he played the tuba, a mouse-sized tuba. The homely Dr. Dawson was kind of an unwitting ladies’ man. The opening of the film was a Citizen Kane parody where the story was told in flashback by a wheelchair-bound Dawson, now residing in a home for shell-shocked veterans of the Afghan war. It was boarded by the great Joe Ranft, who gave it many of his idiosyncratically funny and heartfelt touches. After about six months, we finally showed it to Ron Miller. We had sequences on storyboards, nothing on reels. Ron absolutely hated it! He thought it was too “out there.”

Bill: So you made the wrong choice?

John: Yeah, once again. He basically said, “Start over.” For me, that was difficult. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted out. But I backed off and let it move in a more traditional Disney direction. Vance Gerry did wonderful work bringing more charm and warmth to the story, the look, and the characters. That was Ron Miller’s ultimate criticism of my version: “This is Disney! Where’s the warmth?” He had a point. My version lacked that. Joe Ranft did a classic drawing based on Ron Miller’s reaction where Ron looks sort of like Frankenstein and roars, “WHERE’S THE GODDAMN WARMTH?” I still have that drawing, 30 years later, pinned up in my room. It’s a good reminder. In the final film of Basil, I was able to still inject some of the edge that I thought was in Doyle’s own writing of Holmes, some of the Cleesian persona I thought amusing, but the film was tempered by the warmth Vance added. At this same time, Brad Bird, who had a falling out of his own a few years before and had exited the studio, was developing with Jerry Rees an animated feature based on Will Eisner’s classic noir detective strip, The Spirit. I loved The Spirit, had envisioned making a version of it myself one day. In my spare time, I helped Brad get the project going, as did Glen Keane and others. I did animation, storyboarded a couple of long sequences, and was ready to jump ship and relocate to northern California with Brad and Jerry if it got funding. Word of this got back to management. Burny Mattinson was elevated to codirector partly because of my lack of firm commitment to seeing Basil through.

Bill: Then the sudden appearance of Eisner …

John: Sudden is right. But first, there were the threats of a takeover of Disney. Ron Miller was ousted and Michael Eisner and Frank Wells were brought in. And Roy Disney, who had earlier left Disney unhappy with Ron Miller’s direction of the studio, orchestrated Michael’s hire and returned to Disney himself. But we wondered, does anybody realize Ron Miller was actually producing Basil and now we are producer-less? We were like kids in a classroom who were the only ones that knew the teacher was never coming back. It was strange. For a moment, there was no supervision, no leader to look to. We were all in limbo. Shortly thereafter, we learned that we actually had to pitch the movie to Michael Eisner. Although we had been working on it for three years, it was very possible that it might get shelved in the wink of an eye.

Bill: Three years?

John: Three years in boards … I think we had a few reels. Ron was very distracted by the takeover attempts, and we were moving in slow motion. So we pitched Basil on beat boards to Michael Eisner, and he says, “OK, I see you got the comedy and the adventure. But what’s going to make us cry? You need something to make us cry.” He starts talking in a way that I never heard Ron Miller talk. He then calls in Jeffrey Katzenberg, and we show him everything that we have. This is our first meeting with him. Jeffrey looks at our bar room sequence, one where a plaintive woman mouse sings a Victorian ditty that gets a bit bawdy. Jeffrey’s response: “Why can’t we have Michael Jackson do a song for it?” We were totally thrown. Michael Jackson? Victorian England? It was then we realized that we were not in Kansas anymore.

Bill: Thinking outside the box.

John: There was no box. In hindsight, Jeffrey’s thought was not so wacky. It was risky in a kind of cool way (although hiring the biggest pop star on the planet to do a song isn’t entirely daring), but it was another universe than the Disney we had been working for. So they greenlit the movie, but cut the budget in half and gave us half the time. We had to knock a year off production and do the movie for ten million dollars, which was a tight squeeze budget-wise even then. Our roles also got shuffled around. Burny Mattinson was now producing the film, and Ron and Dave Michener became codirectors. I wasn’t the sole director anymore. I answered to Burny now. It wasn’t necessarily an ideal situation for me. Fortunately, Burny was very supportive, collaborative, and generous all in all. He was open to ideas, and had some fun ideas of his own that sent the movie off in a better direction. And in the meantime, Brad never did get The Spirit off the ground.

Bill: Is this when you and Ron began to work together as a team?

John: I think our teamwork was forged on Black Cauldron, as it were, ironically enough. We discovered we shared much of the same tastes in storytelling and writing. This was further amplified as we collaborated on Basil. I had always known Ron as an animator. He was a low-key guy with a good head on his shoulders. During the Bluth days, as much as Don tried to entice him, or anyone else for that matter, he was the guy that said, “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.” No matter what, he would question something if it didn’t look or feel right. And on Black Cauldron, we learned that we had similar ideas about how to adapt a book into a film and how to take a character from the page to the big screen.

Bill: But you ended up finishing The Great Mouse Detective.

John: We did. To us, though, it was always Basil of Baker Street. That’s what we called it.

Bill: And it did OK at the box office, right?

John: Well … it got really good reviews. The studio was excited. But both Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner were disappointed with how much money it made. People liked it. It was Glen Keane’s first chance to really design and develop a character, which he did with the villain Ratigan. It was a step in the right direction, especially after Black Cauldron.

Bill: And it set you on track to helm The Little Mermaid.

John: It did. Ron was the one that pitched The Little Mermaid. He found the original Anderson story in a book of fairy tales he read in a bookstore in North Hollywood, the Paperback Shack. He was in search of ideas for features to pitch at a “Gong Show,” a meeting with Jeffrey and Michael designed to unearth new ideas for films, a vehicle they had used at Paramount. Upon reading Mermaid, Ron loved the story’s visual qualities. In terms of animation, it had great potential, and he wondered, “Why has this never been made into a film?” Then he got to the tragic ending, and said, “Now I know.” Ron wrote a two-page outline of his version. After some delay, Michael and Jeffrey liked it enough to put it into development as a feature. It ultimately languished, waiting for Michael Cristofer, a fine actor and writer of Witches of Eastwick and writer-director of Gia, and a person whose tastes ran toward the dark side, to write Little Mermaid. He never quite got going on it, so Ron asked me if I would be interested in writing it with him, the two of us having collaborated amicably on Basil and Cauldron, if he could get Peter Schneider, who really ran feature animation for Jeffrey and Roy, to agree. Ron’s pitch to Peter was we’re here, we’re cheap, we’re rarin’ to go, whaddya got to lose? Peter said OK.

---

Bill: With all this consistent collaboration, what would be an example of something that’s all yours?

John: Well, the caricatures I draw reflect a point of view that’s all mine. I also made this three-minute film piece for Joe Ranft’s funeral, a tribute to a great friend and an exceptional talent and human being who died too young. I drew and edited the whole piece. I was encouraged to post it on YouTube on Joe’s subsequent birthday, which I did. People can track that down to maybe get a little feeling for what Joe was like, and what he meant to me and the people around him. It pleased me that the people who knew and loved Joe could see him in that little film. In general, it pleases me when something you labor over seems to resonate with an audience. They see themselves in it and connect to the emotions.

Bill: I think you’ve succeeded. Mermaid, for example, was such a success. The audience just kept coming back to see it.

John: Yeah. I don’t think Michael Eisner initially saw animation as something that could be financially successful. Black Cauldron, which was their intro to Disney features, had cost a lot of money and not done well. I think Michael was quoted in one of the early press pieces as saying Disney needed to continue making animated films because of Disney’s legacy, but they weren’t expected to make money. When someone remarked how expensive an animated film was to produce, I think he was actually quoted as saying, “These are expensive to make, but we have to do it. It’s sort of our thing. It’s our obligation almost.” I don’t think Eisner initially saw animation as a big source of revenue. He just wanted it to break even. Jeffrey, who had not grown up around animation at all, saw it, I think, as a challenge to make it financially successful. Although Basil wasn’t particularly successful financially (so much so that a disappointed Jeffrey told us he thought the ticket prices for animated films might have to be raised to make them profitable), Spielberg and Don Bluth produced An American Tail, and it did better at the box office. It was very much made for a family audience. Even I went to see it on opening night, but it was sold out! I couldn’t believe it. Ultimately, its success helped us convince Jeffrey to put more production value into The Little Mermaid. Mermaid was definitely a surprise, even for Jeffrey. It expanded the traditional audience for animated films. It even became a kind of date movie for teens and adults. Of course, there was Roger Rabbit too, which came out before Mermaid. But Howard and Alan’s music for Mermaid was so infectious, smart, and fun that animation became kind of cool. And that gave us momentum. It moved the production of new animated films forward. Obviously, not everything hinged upon the success of Mermaid. But Rescuers Down Under and Beauty and the Beast were in development in various stages, and the success of our movie gave momentum to them and other upcoming projects (as well as increasing expectations for them, both creatively and financially). As Mermaid was winding down, but before it was released, the studio actually wanted Ron and I to take over Beauty and the Beast from the original director, Dick Purdum. He was a talented British-based animator who had been saddled with an early draft of the script that Jeffrey loved. He was told not to change a word. When Jeffrey disliked the reels that emerged from the “perfect” script, there was an emergency confab in Florida during the Mermaid press junket. It was there that Howard pitched his version of the story, which handled the characters and the tone (as well as plot elements) considerably differently. He pitched the villain Gaston being a hunter rather than a fop, and his Belle was an imaginative, independent lover of books out of step with her provincial neighbors. He thought the mute, enchanted household objects, which had once been human servants, should not only speak, but should sing and dance. And new directors Kirk Wise and Gary Trousedale and their great story team of Roger Allers, Brenda Chapman, Chris Sanders, et al., brought their own ideas to the project and brought it all to spectacular life (and we had nothing to do with it!).

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Bill: What was one of the toughest moments in making Aladdin?

John: We had a screening for Aladdin, the famous Black Friday screening. Ninety minutes of story reels, our first pass. On Basil, Jeffrey had shut the reels off after ten minutes when he wasn’t engaged and refused to watch the rest until we had a more compelling opening. These reels of Aladdin he watched in their entirety. At the end, his only comment was, “That’s a lotta movie,” and off he went. Ron and I lunched at El Torito, a little uncertain what to make of Jeffrey’s reaction, but cautiously thinking the screening seemed to go OK. After lunch we went to see Don Ernst who was our producer. “Any further word from Jeffrey?” we asked. “He hated it!” Don replied. What!? When we asked Jeffrey later why he hadn’t shut off the projector as he had on Basil, he said, “I got too much respect for you guys to do that. But I gotta tell ya, I was so bored I spent the entire screening working on the guest list for my wife’s surprise party!” So on Good Friday, even though the studio was closed, we came in to meet with Jeffrey. He said, “Listen guys, Steven Spielberg just made Empire of the Sun. The script, however, didn’t work. He went out, he shot it, edited it together. And guess what? It still didn’t work! But had anybody told him the script didn’t work? No! Because he is Steven Spielberg. Guys, I’m here to tell you, and I think of you as the Steven Spielbergs of animation, you just made Empire of the Sun.”

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Bill: The Genie gets so much attention, but the animation for the magic carpet was even more amazing.

John: Randy Cartwright animated the carpet. It was the first time, I think, that we used texture mapping. Neither Ron nor I is particularly technologically adept, but we were trying to stretch the boundaries, just like we did on Great Mouse Detective. If someone had an idea how to use technology in a cool way, we were open to trying. On Great Mouse, it was Mike Peraza and Phil Nibbelink who kept saying, “Wouldn’t it be cool if …,” which led to the interior of Big Ben being done on the computer. On Mermaid, Tina Price pushed us to make Eric’s ship a CG [computer graphics] model (which it is only in that first scene coming out of the fog). Tina was also involved in “roto-ing” Randy’s hand-drawn animation of the carpet and warping the intricately patterned carpet texture to fit the acting and movements that Randy created. Still, we had to sell this to Jeffrey. We loved getting this intricate pattern on the carpet, but according to the accountants, it was going to cost a lot of money to do this. Jeffrey was incredulous: “I’m paying all that dough for a bunch of squiggles?” He didn’t get it. But we fought for it and he gave in. I was very happy about that victory. Randy really “was” the carpet, or vice versa. I remember Randy acting out the scene as the carpet sadly slumps away after Aladdin dismisses it in the cave. I still see Randy doing it when I watch the carpet do that in the movie.

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Bill: If you could go back in time what advice you give yourself about directing your first feature?

John: If I could go back in time to Great Mouse Detective, the first feature I directed on really (I don’t think I can count Black Cauldron …) and advise myself about it, I’d caution myself to remember that the audience has a lot of material to absorb about characters, their problems, the world they live in, and the rules by which that world operates, in a very short amount of time. So extra care must be spent to make sure all that information gets communicated clearly and entertainingly. At times, the younger “me” might try, like younger animators sometimes do, to put too much into too little time, thus making it harder for the audience to jump aboard. I’d also remind myself to leave breathing room so there is a variety of pace, let some things should play out more slowly to give contrast in the film, which helps keep the audience engaged. And I’d remind myself how lucky I am to be doing this.

Ron Clements

Bill: Pastels, right? After all, no Photoshop back then!

Ron: Pastels, magic markers … and a hot press. I learned how to work a hot press. I shot a lot of slides. For every piece of artwork you did, you had to shoot a slide. And it would all end up on camera. I was still very interested in animation, though. I even brought in my Super 8 films and suggested we could do some commercials. In those days, everyone thought animation was a very expensive business, that without a bunch of fantastic equipment you couldn’t do it. My little Super 8 films proved otherwise, so I convinced them. Soon I was making little animated commercials. They even built an animation stand for me, which they let me use on my own after hours. When I was 18, I made a 15-minute animated short called Shades of Sherlock Holmes. It was in color. I did all the animation, cels, backgrounds, voices, and soundtrack.

Bill: Did you have pegs?

Ron: I had pegs … just two pegs. I did it with a two-peg system. They were just little wooden dowels. I punched the paper and cels with a regular paper puncher.

Bill: You made it yourself?

Ron: I made the cells. I painted them. I did everything.

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Bill: Do you remember your first tests?

Ron: My first test did not go that well. Eric Larson suggested that I do something with Sherlock Holmes, since my film featured that character. But my design was not at all a Disney-type design. I was frozen for three weeks. I was actually working on a walk cycle for three weeks. In the fourth week, I added a Watson character, who was a little King Hubbert–ish. I had more fun with him. But it was close. They saw a little spark with what I did in that last week, so I got to stay. That was enough for me to relax and start to feel more comfortable. Then I did much better on my second test, a test with the rabbit character from Winnie the Pooh. They liked that test. Before I knew it, eight weeks had passed. If you could make it through that, they hired you. That was the official start of my Disney career. I was an in-betweener at Disney working on Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too, a featurette at that time. And even though I was officially employed at Disney, I still did personal tests in my spare time. I had a fairly ambitious idea to do one with Cruella De Vil. It went over really well. Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston came into my room after they saw it and sort of bowed to me. That was probably the biggest thrill of my entire career. Suddenly, everyone at the studio knew who I was. It was definitely a transformative moment. At the same time, I was still scared. That test went over so well. But honestly, I still didn’t really know what I was doing. Frank asked me to work with him. He wanted to be my mentor. I had originally thought about working under Milt Kahl. But I soon learned that Milt didn’t really mentor anybody. You dealt only with his assistant, Stan Green. Working with Frank was a fantastic opportunity. He was a brilliant animator, actor, entertainer … just an incredibly smart, talented guy. I learned a lot from Frank as I became an animator on the Rescuers. Back then, there were only a few books on the animation process, such as the Preston Blair book, and Frank and Ollie wrote an amazing book after they retired. But animation is something you learn best from working with someone. You can get the ideas and concepts from a book. But in the end, you need a mentor, someone who can teach you how to do it, how to become an actor with a pencil. For me, that was Frank.

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Bill: When did you begin to work with John Musker?

Ron: Despite being one of the young rebellious CalArts guys, the studio made John a director on Black Cauldron. It was the idea of Tom Wilhite, a young executive who was open to new ideas. The older directors didn’t like that at all. After Frank and Ollie left, Don Bluth was running the show. But he clashed with the CalArts guys. They had different ideas and were not afraid to express them. Brad Bird was particularly outspoken. A schism developed quickly. Finally, Don Bluth and his people quit. The studio was then left with a bunch of talented, but unruly young talent, which could be quite scary for a fairly conservative company. Ron Miller, Walt’s son-in-law, who was now running things, thought the answer was to bring us all together on Black Cauldron under a group of older guys just promoted to director. But I don’t think that was a great experience for many of us. There was now a new schism between the younger and older guys. So John was pushed into the role of director and was also working on the story. That’s when we started to work together. I was also assigned to work on the story. That was my first time working with storyboards, and John and I had very strong ideas about the overall momentum of the narrative. But I think the older directors just wanted us to board the sequences and let them worry about the overall story.

Bill: Is this when you and John bonded?

Ron: Pretty much. We had similar ideas. Unfortunately, most of those ideas were not shared by the other directors. Eventually they put us in a room to work on stuff that was never going to be used in the movie. It was “additional story,” that is, story never intended to be used. That was a bad experience for both of us, but we discovered we did have a lot in common. We were almost the same age. We were both raised Catholic, and we were both from the Midwest. We both were even cartoonists for our school papers. John was also an incredible caricaturist. And caricature was what helped to eventually land me at Hanna-Barbera and then Disney. It was easy to be friends. Anyway, we were both put on probation on Black Cauldron.

Bill: They took you off the picture?

Ron: No, we were on the picture. But we wouldn’t be for long, if we didn’t change our attitude. It was that kind of probation. But it didn’t matter in the end. Joe Hale was the producer on Black Cauldron. He was very sympathetic to our group, but ultimately he had to choose between us and them. He chose the older guys. I guess it was a good thing, because there was no project slated for development after Black Cauldron. Since I’ve always been a big Sherlock Holmes fan, I had come across this book called Basil of Baker Street, which was about a mouse Sherlock Holmes. I thought it was perfect for a movie adaptation. But I was working on the Rescuers at the time and didn’t pursue it. Well, now seemed like the perfect time to pitch the idea. I brought it to Joe first, and he brought it to Ron Miller. Ron not only wanted to make the movie, but he also saw an opportunity to put all these young disgruntled people to work on an alternative project to Cauldron. So John became the director and I worked on the story. Later, Burny Mattinson was brought on to keep us from going too radical. Basil developed slowly over the next year and a half. Then everything changed overnight. Saul Steinberg, who was a corporate raider, was trying to take over Disney. Evidently, if he succeeded, he was going to dismantle the company and make a huge profit. All of us working on Basil had no idea what was going to happen. It was a precarious time. Finally, Roy Disney and the Brass brothers came in and saved the company at the last minute. And Ron Miller left. Bill: So, Eisner and Katzenberg came in.

Ron: Sweeping changes. For a time, they didn’t even know we existed. We were such a small group, and Ron Miller had been our producer. We used to joke about whether we should tell anybody we existed. A lot of stuff happened at this time. There are a lot of stories.

Bill: We should stay focused on your personal experiences.

Ron: We had to pitch Basil all over again to Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg. It was weird. We had worked on this film for a long time. Suddenly, we had to pitch it as if it were a new idea. Well, they liked it. It was greenlit. But Michael reduced the budget and gave us a strict time frame. We had ten million to spend, and we had to finish in about a year. So, we did.

Bill: You did Basil in a year?

Ron: We did. But we had previously worked on the film for over two years, so we had lots of boards, reels, and the cast. We jumped straight into production.

Bill: Basil himself is a manic-depressive. How different was he on the screen from what you guys originally envisioned? Didn’t they ask you to tone it down a little?

Ron: We had to tone it down. That’s why Burny Mattinson was put on the picture. Basil was indeed manic and eccentric. And we pushed that even more early on. Burny carefully pulled us back, allowing for some eccentricity and quirkiness, but nothing too extreme. The film was done very fast. Fortunately, it was animals wearing clothes, which is probably the easiest kind of animation to do. Everything turned out for the best, I think. Black Cauldron was costly and took four years to make. We finished Basil in a year, it was cheap, and it did better at the box office.

Bill: Don’t forget to mention the name.

Ron: Well, we did hate the title change. To us, it was always Basil of Baker Street. But there was a marketing issue. Eisner and Katzenberg had come to Disney from Paramount, which soon released Young Sherlock Holmes. Big names were associated with that film: Steven Spielberg, Chris Columbus, Barry Levinson. I think Basil was greenlit because they were still riding high on that movie. When it finally came out and didn’t do that well, Eisner and Katzenberg were worried about any association with Sherlock Holmes. So the title was changed to The Great Mouse Detective. We hated that name.

Bill: What about the secret memo?

Ron: I don’t think it’s a secret now that Ed Gombert wrote that memo. He was a very talented story guy at the time. Peter Schneider was newly installed as the head of production, and the fake memo was attributed to him. It basically said, “Not only are we going to change the title of Basil of Baker Street to The Great Mouse Detective, but we have also decided to go back and change the titles of all previous Disney films. From this point on, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs will be Seven Little Men Help a Girl; Pinocchio will be The Little Wooden Boy Who Became Real; Cinderella will be The Girl with the See-Through Shoes.” I think he changed all the titles except the Aristocats. Peter was incensed! They wanted to fire whoever wrote that memo. Eventually, it died down and nobody got fired. But that memo has a life of its own. It was eventually the basis for a Jeopardy! question, and the LA Times wrote an article about it.

Bill: Were you and John the sole codirectors of Great Mouse?

Ron: No. Burny and Dave Michener were also directors. John and I were sequence directors. And as for me becoming a director, I should backtrack and say that it was due to Ron Miller leaving. He was the original producer. When he left, Burny became the producer. But he didn’t feel he had time to both produce and direct, so they were looking for another director. I asked Burny to consider me, and he went with that. I guess that was my big break.

Bill: Did you and John do sequences together?

Ron: No, and we still work that way. We split a movie into sequences and then divide them up. We don’t actually work on the same sequences. That’s always been part of our process. There was also no screenplay on that movie. Most of the Disney movies didn’t have one at that time. We did our own writing for the sequences that we boarded. Somehow, we were able to maintain consistency. We both did a lot of writing on Basil. And that reminds me of the “Gong Show,” which was something Eisner brought with him from Paramount. Occasionally, they would gather a lot of the creative people at Paramount to generate new material by simply pitching ideas freely. This was called the Gong Show because the response required a simple gut reaction, yes or no. So we had to do this too. A bunch of us had two weeks to each come up with five ideas to pitch. As I was looking around for ideas, I found this book of fairy tales that included The Little Mermaid. I’d heard of it, but never read it. It didn’t take long to discover that Hans Christian Anderson’s writing was very visual, almost cinematic. It leapt off the page. There was so much potential, I was curious why it hadn’t been made into a movie yet. But as I read further, I could see why. It’s a story that starts out sad, and then it gets sadder and sadder. Then she dies in the end. Depressing, but it intrigued me. A few days later, I had an idea. I thought of making the witch a villain and putting this sort of ticking clock in the story. I wanted this ironic twist where the prince falls in love with her voice, but she gives up the voice. And I had a way to give it a happy ending. I got so excited that I couldn’t sleep. I wrote up two page treatments on five different ideas, but I thought Mermaid was the best. Two weeks later, when we gathered, Michael asked us to pitch our best idea, not all five. When I said The Little Mermaid, they immediately said, “No. That’s too close to Splash.” Nevertheless, they said they would read all the two page treatments. I was very disappointed. Then, two days later, Jeffrey Katzenberg said that he and Michael saw potential in The Little Mermaid. They wanted to put it into development. And for a while I was sort of in charge of that.

Bill: Was John involved with it?

Ron: John was not involved at this point. They were focused on finding a writer. Initially, they wanted Michael Christopher, the Pulitzer Prize–winning writer on the Witches of Eastwick. He was interested, but then backed off because he felt his take would be too dark. That’s when I went to John and suggested that we collaborate on the screenplay. We pitched the idea to Peter Schneider and he agreed. The Great Mouse Detective was also coming to an end, so both of us were looking for a new project. At the same time Jeffrey Katzenberg, prompted by David Geffen, was trying to lure Howard Ashman to Disney. They showed Howard a number of things in development, both live action and animation, and he was most interested in writing the songs for Mermaid. We met him in New York with a 12-page treatment and, for two days, we went over it, figuring out how and what songs could be worked into the story. And Howard a great idea. Howard went on to direct the musical “Smile” in New York while John and I returned to California and wrote the script.

Rob Minkoff

Bill: How long did you stay at CalArts?

Rob: I was there for three years. At the end of my second year at CalArts something kind of devastating happened. Disney didn’t hire anyone. That was a huge blow to the students. In my first year they hired nine people! That got us excited about our future prospects—then, suddenly, nothing. Worse still, rumor had it Disney didn’t like our films. Apparently, they were too dark.

Bill: Your sophomore film?

Rob: Yeah. It was kind of a Hansel and Gretel story. This devious candymaker invites two kids into his store in order to turn them into candy. He literally is going to pick them up and toss them into the candy-making machine. Well, I suppose it was a little dark. But we can probably thank Tim Burton for that! In our first year they showed Tim’s pencil test, and it was amazing. This little film essentially displayed every major concept that Tim is now known for. It was called Stalk of the Celery Monster. That film had a profound effect on us.

Bill: Did that influence your third-year film?

Rob: Well, before that, and after Disney chose not to hire anyone, Dan Jeup came in and announced that three people had been selected to do an internship. I was one of them. We got to do a summer internship with Eric Larson in the summer of 1982. This happened to coincide with the animation strike. No one was in the building because they were all out on the street picketing. That made the experience very strange. We actually had to cross a picket line to get inside the building. We weren’t scabs because we weren’t employed per se. We were just interns. But the nice thing was that we had Eric all to ourselves. He literally had nothing to do but teach us. At this time I also met Don Hahn, Ron Rocha, and Burny Mattinson, who wasn’t picketing because he was a director. Mostly the place was empty, and that gave us an opportunity to do something we couldn’t have done otherwise. We went into everybody’s office and looked at their stuff. We looked at Ed Gombert’s boards, Vance Gerry’s boards for The Great Mouse Detective, which at the time was called Basil of Baker Street. We saw boards hat Tim Burton had done for The Black Cauldron. One day we got very bold. We decided to march upstairs and meet Ron Miller. He had Walt Disney’s old office, and we just wanted to step into that room. So we went up to Lucille … Lucille was Ron’s assistant, right?

---

Bill: Was this the very early stages of Roger Rabbit?

Rob: Yeah, before Steven Spielberg and Robert Zemeckis were involved. Daryl Van Citters, Chris Buck, and Mike Giaimo had been working on it. They even shot a live-action test with Mike Gabriel as the detective. I was basically hanging out with these guys in the beginning. Joe Ranft had introduced me to them. I’d met Joe my first year at CalArts. He’d come back from Disney to give advice and critique the animation tests for some of the students. It was totally informal. Just something Joe wanted to do. We became very close after that. What an amazing talent and all-around human being he was. It was such a tragedy to lose him so young. I still think of him quite often. Anyway, I’d finally gotten a job at Disney and my first assignment was inbetweening on The Black Cauldron under Phil Nibbelink. It was a pretty tough job, except that Phil had all the cute girls working as his inbetweeners.

Bill: How long did that go on?

Rob: For about six months. To keep my sanity, I would take drawing breaks. I would stop inbetweening, pull out a fresh piece of paper, and draw something for fun. Then I would go back to inbetweening. After a while, I acquired a large stack of drawings, which sort of helped me later. There was a small group working on Basil of Baker Street—The Great Mouse Detective, that is. They were thinking about bringing in a new face for some character design work. Brian McEntee recommended me to John Musker. Eventually, John called and asked me to come to his office. He also told me to bring drawings. I reached into my desk, grabbed the stack, and walked upstairs to his office. About a week later Ed Hansen, who was running the animation department, called and said they wanted me as a character designer on the film.

Bill: So John saved you, huh?

Rob: Yes, he did. But it was only supposed to be for a limited time. Ed made it clear that as soon as I was finished it was back to inbetweening! They didn’t want me to get too comfortable! I didn’t care. I was just happy to get out for a while. But then the good thing was I never went back to inbetweening. Somehow I managed to stay on the movie.

Bill: What was it like, working on your first big production as a designer?

Rob: Basil had quite a history by the time I arrived. John and Ron had been developing the movie. It was edgy, adult, and very smart. Heavily influenced by Monty Python’s absurdist humor, which I loved! This was the vision I saw when I peeked at the boards during my internship. When they pitched it to Ron Miller, he basically made them start all over again. Joe Ranft had the funniest drawing of Ron Miller at the time. It didn’t look anything like him, but it was Ron as a giant blue man with blood vessels popping out of his head. The caption read, “WHERE IS THE GODDAMN WARMTH?!” So, Burny was brought in as producer, and Dave Michener also came on board as a director. We had three directors. The entire tone and feel of the movie changed. Ron Miller wanted it to be more “Disney.” But if you look back at Walt’s films, there was some incredibly interesting, dynamic, and scary stuff in those movies. Needless to say, everyone was frustrated. But that didn’t stop me from appreciating the opportunity I had. I got to be a character designer. This was my chance to move forward. Eventually, they assigned me to work on some animation, which pushed me into the role of animator. Then someone said, “You should be an animation supervisor.” I replied, “Sure. That sounds great!”

Bill: This was all on The Great Mouse Detective?

Rob: Yeah, it didn’t take the ten years that Bob McCray and Jack Hanna said it would. But any kind of sudden advancement was met with skepticism by the senior staff. That’s not an easy position for anyone to be in, but Disney was changing. There was a new generation of people that wanted something else, something better. And the frustration was often visible. I remember hearing a story about Brad Bird kicking a Sparkletts bottle down the hallway. But that’s how everybody felt.

Bill: But Brad had already left Disney before you’d got there.

Rob: Yes. But soon after starting, I began hearing that Brad Bird and Jerry Rees were going to make an animated movie, based on Will Eisner’s The Spirit, in Northern California. Brett Newton came to me and said, “Have you heard about this thing that Jerry and Brad are doing? It’s gonna cause a huge revolution in animation! They’re gonna hire everybody who’s any good out of Disney who wants to leave and go work on a movie that’s gonna break all the rules and be the salvation of animation.” Of course I thought it sounded fantastic. He put me in touch with Brad and Jerry, and I soon arranged a meeting up in Northern California. Unfortunately, things weren’t as bustling as Brett had claimed. It was very quiet there. It was just Brad and Jerry. They showed me the test, which I think John Musker and possibly Glen Keane had worked on. It was amazing stuff. But I didn’t get the feeling that production was going to take off anytime soon. And it never did. Eventually, I did end up working for both of them, Brad on Family Dog and Jerry on The Brave Little Toaster. I was still technically an animator at Disney, but I indulged in a little creative freelance work for them. I guess it helped with the frustration I felt at the time.

Bill: Didn’t you briefly leave Disney to work with Jerry Rees?

Rob: I did. I went to see Don Hahn, who was then kind of managing the animation department at Disney. I said, “I’ve got this opportunity to do designs on this Jerry Rees project.” Don was very gracious and understanding. I was very nervous about leaving. I had wanted to work at Disney for so long, and they took me in. But it wasn’t quite the place the literature promised. Don said, “If you want to go, go. It’s okay. You can come back anytime.” So I took a deep breath and left Disney even though there was no guarantee I would be taken back. The door could have been closed forever.

Bill: Did you go to Taiwan?

Rob: No, I didn’t. I spent about five weeks with Jerry up in Hollywood but going to Taiwan just didn’t feel right. So I went back to Don, who said, “If you want to come back, it’s totally fine.” I immediately jumped at my chance to go back.

Bill: Is this when the takeover occurred?

Rob: It was around that time. I remember when I first heard Ron Miller was leaving. I was in John Musker’s sweatbox watching some animation tests with him and Ron Clements. Steve Hulett walked in with the press release that Ron Miller had resigned. I remember being somewhat excited about the possibilities, but Ron Clements had a dour expression and said quite gravely, “It can always get worse!” And soon after, I was there when John and Ron had to pitch The Great Mouse Detective to the new head of Disney, Michael Eisner. I had no idea what was going to happen. They had the opportunity to kill it, if they wanted. In fact, I’d heard that they’d considered shutting down animation entirely but Roy Disney wouldn’t let them.

[a-b-riddle]

Pen Pals Chapter Four: First Day

C suggested that I go and get some clothes for my first week of work so the Saturday after my Friday interview. The dressing rooms were still closed which was a pain, but I kept the receipts in case I didn't like it or it didn't fit. I gave him a video call and was met with a black screen, as usual, as I tried on the outfits for him.

"Wear the first pair of black pants you showed me and the pink top." He was referring to the black straight leg slacks and the baby pink silk blouse with a chiffon tie. "Go get those boxes I sent you." He ordered. When I returned home from shopping I had two packages waiting for me on my doorstep.

They were both in standard brown shipping boxes, but after opening them I was met with utter shock.

"Oh my god." My mouth hung open as I opened it. "C. You shouldn't have." I didn't even open it all the way, but seeing the orange Louis Vuitton made me realize what he had done. When I finally did open it I found a beautiful beige purse.

"Every girl needs a new statement piece on their first day of work." He said. "It's the Lockme Ever MM. If you don't like it you can exchange it."

"I love it. And I can wear the pearls you gave me for graduation." I beamed still looking at the purse.

"Open the other one." He said almost as excited as I was. When I did I found a similar bag, but in black. "That one, I believe, is the Lockme Ever BB." I looked down at my gifts and didn't even know I had started crying. "What's wrong?" He asked, concern in his voice. "Do you not like them."

"There so nice." I pouted and wiped my eyes. "I love them." I cradled the purses to my chest as if a child who had gotten the exact toy they wanted on Christmas Day. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Good. You're welcome, baby." He said. "I got to get some things done before the end of the day, but I look forward to our video chat tonight."

"Me too."

"I'll see you in a bit, Love." I blew him a kiss and the call disconnected.

Holy-fucking-shit. These purses had to at least be at least $3,000 a piece. He spent what he gives me in an allowance on two bags. Holy shit. I had always bought my purses at Target, but this was... This was probably the most expensive thing I've ever owned beside my degrees that hung on the wall, but I couldn't carry those into work.

It's so funny to think a couple of months ago I sat in an empty apartment with nothing but a bed, crying about my life and now things had did a complete 180. My life had drastically changed in the best way possible. And it was because of C.

Monday couldn't get here soon enough. I was so excited to start my first day. I stopped and got a cup of coffee for myself, Mr. Stark as well as Mr. Rogers. When I got there security on the first floor got my badge and security access taken care of. I was essentially allowed to most of the 93 floors in Stark Tower.

I was then instructed to go to the same floor where I met Pepper. I was expecting to find her, but only found an empty desk and a folder with a sticky note on top of it.

Sorry I couldn't be there on your first day, something came up. Here is a basic outline of everything you need to know. Tony won't be down until later. If you need any help here is my cell. -Pepper.

I looked through the folder which would have been better put into a binder considering the amount of paper she put into it. I had barely started reviewing the documents when Steve walked up to my desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers." I greeted. "I had time this morning so I did a coffee run." I handed him a medium black coffee from the coffee shop near my apartment.

"Good morning," he replied taking the coffee from my hands. "And please, just call me Steve." He insisted.

"I'll try." I assured him. "I grew up in Georgia so not referring to someone as Mr., Mrs., Sir. or Ma'am is kind of habit I'll have to break."

"You have manners?" He raised an eyebrow. "A shame. Tony tries to keep this place with a sense of impoliteness in the air. Thank you for the coffee."

"No problem. I hope plain black is okay."

"Do I seem like a plain black kind of guy?" He questioned tilting his head.

"I can go get some creamer." I went to stand when he broke into a smile.

"No, I take it black. I still like to keep some things simple." His attention broke away from me at someone coming through the lobby front doors. "Bucky," He greeted. A brunette with eyes just as blue and beautiful as Steve's walked over to my desk. "This is Bucky Barnes, we go way back."

"Stark's new assistant?" He asked and I smiled and nodded in response. "How you liking it so far?"

"First day: can't complain." I said. "Everyone is so nice."

"Plus Stark isn't up yet so he hasn't had the chance to ruin her day." Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, we will let you get to work and we'll see you around. Since it's your first day, I think Tony wanted to take you to lunch. Bucky will come around noon if he hasn't come yet and maybe we can steal you away instead."

"Oh," I said surprised. "Perfect. I'll see y'all later." I smiled at them as they left.

A few hours passed and I made myself busy with the list of things Pepper left me to do. Mr. Stark left his workshop and finally came down around 12.

"I hope you haven't had lunch yet." He said. "And sorry I haven't been down yet, I'm tinkering with a few things upstairs."

"Oh, no problem." I reassured. "Pepper left a very detailed list of instructions. So far nothing exciting except a few packages."

"So instead of apartment numbers, the floor is where it will need to be dropped off. Sometimes Steve and Bucky will get things in the mail too."

"Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes?" I asked.

"They live in the tower too." He said. "Makes things easier when we are all close together. How does Shawarma sound for lunch?"

"I was actually thinking Italian." Steve's voice came out of nowhere. When did he get back on this floor? I needed to find the stairs here at some point.

With his back still turned, he rolled his eyes. "Always has to be in charge." He whispered. "Italian it is."

Lunch was pleasant to say the least, even with the minimal banter between Steve and Tony. It was more like a sibling rivalry than a old married couple. Bucky had come along as well, mostly remaining quiet.

I asked if they always acted like this. He responded that it was when they were both quiet that it was more uncomfortable. He asked if I wanted to really wanted to start and argument was to ask who was in charge of the Avengers.

I shook my head and Bucky smiled. "So are you new to the city?" He asked.

"Sort of." I shrugged as Tony and Steve carried on their separate conversation. "I came here a couple of months ago before Covid hit and haven't really gotten out of my apartment."

"That blows." He said. "No friends in the city?"

I made a grimaced face and shook my head. "Not really." I said glumly. "I was supposed to start teaching when I moved, but covid made everything complicated."

"What were you wanting to teach?"

"History, but I specialized in World War II." I said before taking a bite of my Caprese salad with pesto sauce. C said I looked thinner and should be making sure to eat enough healthy carbs.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt me. Or him.

However the saying went.

"Funny how the world works." He smiled before motioning his head toward Steve. "You're having lunch with two WW2 relics." I covered my mouth making sure none of my food showed as I smiled.

Steve and Tony eventually ceased their bantering long enough to join back into the conversation. They had asked me why I had gotten into studying history so extensively and very little personal information. Tony discussed a new prototype he was working on.

"Similar to how whales use echo location, the same will be done with this tracking device. Planes, vehicles, military equipment, but also testing out the device on animals to see if we can eventually use it on people."

The notion made my stomach drop. Mr. Stark quickly reassured the apparent qualm I had. "For willing parties only, I assure you. There was a missing persons report that came up when Pepper and I were watching TV. Young girl, about your age, man was convicted of rape and murder, but her remains were never found. And Pepper and I are trying to a family and I just thought 'that family will never know what happened to their daughter'."

The sentiment moved me. "So I thought, why not make it another tool for police to use? Cell phones and things like that can be destroyed, but even if it couldn't save them, it could at least give their family some closure."

"And even with tracking endangered species. Maybe even aquatic animals."

The idea didn't seem all that revolutionary in my opinion. Surely tracking devices like that have been proposed before...

When I got back there was a bouquet of daises and sunflowers sitting on my desk. "Was Pepper expecting a floral delivery?" I asked Tony setting my purse down on my desk.

"Not that I know of." He said stepping into the elevator with Bucky and Steve. "Unless she has a secret admirer I don't know about." The door closed and I was left alone with the floral arrangement.

I plucked the card from the top reading. 'Have a great first day - C.'

Only problem was, I never told him where I worked. Only that I would be working as a secretary for a tech company and that was the extent of it. He had watched me.

I'm glad Tony and the others had went up to their floors and did not see how ghostly pale my face had turned.

[schismusic]

The dark Age of love — Oneohtrix Point Never and the inexorable passage of time

Around the time that I stopped actively using this blog is when I started getting really into Oneohtrix Point Never. For reference Garden of Delete had been out for about three years at that point and it felt like the wait for Age of — then untitled — was endless. I remember accidentally coming across R Plus Seven in 2016 on a Telegram channel dedicated to vaporwave and downloading it almost on a whim, not exactly knowing what to expect (if I had to guess, retrospectively, what I expected lay very close to Andy Stott's Luxury Problems: a record, mind you, I only listened to for the first time three years ago!), and finding it somewhat impenetrable. It took me a full year of beating my head against its side to be able to make heads or tails of it and when it finally clicked it felt like translating hieroglyphics off of the Rosetta stone. Five years later than the rest of the world, but still.

As I type this I am listening to a live recording of some sort of reworked version of Zones Without People, title track from one of the very first OPN records I bought. I have almost all of the big releases, no compilations yet: the ones missing are Betrayed in the Octagon, Russian Mind and the last one. This new-OPN angle he approached it from makes it insanely compelling to me, it almost turns into a cut from Garden of Delete but not quite, it still has that kosmische sense of larger-than-life melody that his earlier records had but it gives it the Casio makeover (that fake-ass piano sequence doubling the main melody hits). And like most of OPN's later material it's a combination of previous elements, as tasteful as it is, but it's not necessarily retreading.

A while back I stumbled across R Plus Seven again and as I was listening to it, and for reference R Plus Seven is the kind of record I can listen to without it being on, I know the stop-and-go's and the breaks and the melody lines and all the weird shit going on so I'm pretty sure it was on in the background while I was doing something else and it was still that good, don't let anyone tell you otherwise — anyways as I was listening to it I remember thinking "holy shit, OPN is forty". It almost feels like yesterday to me — this guy being forty, using his Instagram profile like any tech-savvy millennial did, he even replied to an Instagram story where I played the guitar riff from Ezra to promote a live show my old band had to play. Lorenzo Senni did the same a couple times when I replied to his stories, I was lucky enough to meet him in real life when he played my city in 2018. Ironically enough Lorenzo Senni is also forty now. Not entirely sure as to what makes forty the exact age when I start to think of people as "getting old", considering I am going for twentyfive and I am closer to being forty than I am to the time I learned how to read and write, but something clicks in my head where someone like Steve Albini, RIP, was "still somewhat young" but at the same time I look at a picture of current-day Oneohtrix Point Never, then at the thumbnail for his VICE Motherboard interview (year of our Lord two-thousand-and-nine, Returnal had just come out, the quantum leap that was Replica yet to even appear in the corner of our eyes), and instinctively break out in cold sweat. What is it about aging that only fucks us up when the people aging are the ones closer to us, from a birth year point of view?

This conversation is even more topical considering the core gist of OPN's recorded output so far orbits around not aging, per se, as much as it does memory. And, of course, it's easy to think "oh right, memory, like Memory Vague", and that is absolutely correct: no surprise that exactly the Memory Vague DVD would include as liner notes such a stunningly articulate manifesto specifically on the main preoccupations of the project at that specific time:

Embedded in collective memory are unique instances of the personal

No commercial work is outside of the reach of artistic reclamation

Likewise no artistic project is outside the reach of commercial implications

Furthermore

It is in the weird stasis of in-between zones that this polarized system breaks down

This zone contains secrets that inform the future via exploding the past

[Nostalgia's failure is a decoding force]

Nostalgia is transformative because nostalgia is innately vague

A memory that desires to be total and sublime, but can never be

Hard to find anything more accomplished than this as far as an explanation goes: this puts OPN on a far more conceptual and performance-oriented level than, say, Autechre, with whom many stupid people like Demented Burrocacao (actually, in all seriousness, he's an excellent writer, but I simply cannot see what he sees in regards to OPN supposedly being a bad Autechre copycat. If you understand Italian, go read his Tony Levin interview on Rolling Stone: it's acute journalism and incredible writing rolled into one neatly-sized package) seem to find more than one tie. If anything, it might be closer to Boards of Canada, but then again OPN deals more in the uncanny than he does in outright "weird" or "eerie" à la Mark Fisher, like a secret third thing that sidesteps all inherent connotations of pleasure/displeasure and reaches directly into the distorted without any quality connotations. But most relevant for the purposes of this piece, the impossibility of totality appears surprisingly close to old age: ideally, the ripest point of our experiences, but in practice we are trapped within a body that simply will not do what we want it to.

In turn, this makes the existence of a record like Magic especially interesting. A project entirely dedicated to "inform the future via exploding the past" looks back and — well — keeps exploding the past, but in a slower, more focused manner. I'm assuming Abel Tesfaye gleefully putting his own money in the project might have had something to do with it? Not saying that it's a bad thing. It just feels like yet another detour in the project, one that seems to have come to full fruition with Again in the eyes of most listeners: self-portrait in audio form — and the phrase "self-portrait" openly emerges in the Rolling Stone Italia review of Again, but at the same time it's hard to watch the music video to Long Road Home and not see all of the references being made to previous OPN aesthetics (such as the name of the album being the project's first moniker, but also: what if we kissed in the R Plus Seven room? And what if we were the two creatures that blend into one another on the cover of Garden of Delete, one of whom looks suspiciously similar to Yves Tumor and the other to the creatures in the Black Snow music video? Do I need to start wearing a tinfoil hat?). At the time of its release, Age of felt like a bit of a misfire to me: something that squandered a potentially interesting concept to a surprising lack of focus, a blemish heretofore unprecedented in OPN. It might still be his weakest specifically because of that, unfortunately for the good tracks and great moments on there — Black Snow and Prurient hopping on a weirded-out post-trance banger, just to name one of each.

Point being: I miss Oneohtrix Point Never, or rather I miss his music hitting me from left field at every turn, or rather — possibly — I miss being able to feel that surprising punch in music. Or maybe all I really miss is not being closer to forty than I am to the age I learned how to read and write. Luckily, there is one thing I am still close to. I started listening to full records with attention and intention at age twelve, thirteen years ago. I started confronting records that I felt were way out of my league the very day I turned fifteen, when I received a copy of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, and kept doing so with R Plus Seven and elseq 1-5, and keep doing so with Bitches Brew and Mingus Ah Um. Maybe as long as I keep the ability to be surprised, a sense of childlike wonder, I might still be able to not turn into a grumpy old motherfucker that yells at clouds; I might still be able to explode the past, for someone else to inform the future.

(Two days ago, this blog turned ten. I believe it's only fitting that I post this piece now)

[issahanko]

How to erase a bad bad weekend

How to erase a bad bad weekend, a bad memory, a bad experience, a bad conversation…

The memories keep flashing in my mind like a bad taste that keeps coming and going.

So many feelings, so hard to deal with and I feel so stupid not being able to just pass to the next thing. So here I am writing my heavy heart, I’m hoping it can maybe help.

As I start this text, I realize that maybe this could be a funny story, or maybe, my gentle reader will relate to me, and we could cry together.

I was urgently in need of a bit of money. I had just finished another diploma in December, and I found myself looking for an urgent job, it had been one month and a half and nothing.

Maybe because January and February are dead for job hunting… I told myself and everyone else around me to feel better, I have to be patient, I said in a very loud voice, maybe trying to convince myself to be patient, and it was not working…

My friend, which is in a similar situation calls me and says: Urgently! I have to know if you want a job! they pay cash! it’s from Friday to Sunday!

I said yes, of course! I trust her, she’s a hustler… I really need some money right now.

What we have to do in this modern world to have some money, in this economy, in this crisis, in this unemployed situation… could be called slavery, but let’s leave this subject for later.

I was supposed to sell bike clothes, plus triathlon and running clothes.

The guy made us come on Thursday to explain how this will be done during the weekend, although Thursday was not a paid time. My friend had to do 40 minutes of metro and 15 walking from her place to the job place, where we were going to work. But the guy wanted us to come on Thursday. He also wanted us to come an hour before the opening without being paid, although we said yes, it never happened.

So the guy’s name was Steve… Steve? What kind of name is that?

Hi, my name is Steve (pronounced Stif)… I wonder what you imagine with that name.

It was the opposite of the Steven Universe character. Zero charisma, he had a grim aura around him, when I remember him, I picture him wearing dirty clothes, a dirty face, dirty soul, Steve without an n.

This guy had a very bad looking silhouette, just imagine a bald, bad shaved, red eyed looking guy, with a beer belly and yellow teeth whenever he smiled, which was a rare occasion, or maybe he just smiled at moments when you are not supposed to smile, like a smile after a racist-mysoginist-homophobe comment…

This guy didn’t say hello…. As soon as he saw us, he said: do you go to the gym? Do you ride bikes? On the gym…?

Now, my friend and I are not fit at all, we have overweighted women bodies, but we take care of ourselves, we tidy ourselves, we love ourselves, we feel pretty most of the time. I admit, I got some kilos more during my degree, I did my last diploma in one year, one hell of a ride, and I’m a stress eater, so it was very easy to obtain my extra kilos. But of course, this guy didn’t see that. Maybe he wanted slim people, so the customers would feel more appealed or something. Although, he was not paying enough for a slim sales manager. He was not even paying enough for us to come on that Thursday, which we weren’t even paid.

So not a very good first start, right? I laughed it out, but my friend didn’t. I sometimes don’t understand a situation before it’s too late and my natural response is to laugh out everything. Whenever I’m nervous you will see me smiling.

Bla bla bla, biking clothes, bike accessories, biking glasses, how did you two meet?

- Oh, we were together at Uni, yeah, I was doing my ethnomusicology master at that time, oh! It’s like anthropology of music.

- So like when humans were hitting rocks one to the other and you call that music?

- jajajajaj…ja… yeah… something like that… Oh I actually have an interview in one hour, so I only have 15 minutes

Apparently, Steve didn’t like that, maybe he was planning on explaining every single item to us and take more of our free time, but I doubt it, the guy was not organized. Or maybe his natural face was of disgust…

I asked if he had business cards, he didn’t, also, the internet site that was announced on his business signs didn’t exist, he also didn’t have a special item he wanted to sell, and the sales signs advised discounts in a very so random way that it looked like a scam store.

So every time someone would ask where they could find the store… we just answered with the most vague phrase: oh! we are a mobile store… (you cannot find it anywhere) we move a lot between Ontario and Québec, oh sorry, the site doesn’t wok but you can send us an email with whatever you need, we will try our best to answer your request…

We? Well, I told myself that if maybe I got the appropriation of the store, people will believe that it was genuine, or like a family business, with Steve being our… uncle? I don’t’ know, I thought it was helpful, I was trying to help a human who didn’t deserve my trying.

Steve has a daughter though, 8 years old, she was on his 2000 model phone wallpaper. Poor girl with a father like that. Just, let me tell you the story. The guy hooked up with a woman 25 years younger than him, the problem is, he said it as if he was proud of it. He’s 62 yeas old… Steve is a 62-year-old father… of an 8 year old daughter. Oh! But her daughter is a flirt! She is in the boy’s hockey team, because she is too good to be in the girls’ hockey team and she likes to flirt with the boys…

I don’t know what is more disgusting, the fact that he thinks she flirts at that age, the fact that he is proud of his daughter being a flirt, or the fact that he is telling me this.

Pure disgust. Maybe I should add “rapist” to the list of adjectives I will describe him with. I know maybe some of you would feel sorry of him being so old and working in this hard work line, but my disgust is bigger than my sorrow.

And also, the conversation about his daughter started because he fucking asked me if I WAS SINGLE

FUCKING STEVE AND HIS FUCKING STORE

- Oh! Yeah, I have a partner and we are married.

- So like… are you lesbian?

(Shall I just send this guy to hell….?)

…..

- Well I consider myself bisexual and I’m married to a non-binary person. But you know this is really not important…

- You young people, your generation is so welcoming to this kind of stuff, I don’t know any of this things, so what is bisexual and what is non-binary

(Shall I just send this guy to hell….?)

-Well, bisexual is that you are attracted to a person regardless of their gender

- Well that is convenient

(Shall I just send this guy to hell….?)

-jajajaj… I am attracted to all the genders, not only one… and non-binary is that the person doesn’t feel like they belong to only one gender.

- so like a mix ?

- I mean there are people who are genderfluid, so they can feel one day one gender or non at all. And I feel that a bisexual with a non-binary is a perfect romantic alliance.

- So all that stuff exist, huh? Your generation is so different than mine

-oh! you have a costumer behind you

…..

The conditions to this job were just disastrous, we couldn’t sit (no chairs anywhere), we couldn’t just stand (because it is aggressive, the customer will not approach you if you just stand there, just try to scan the clothes, you can even check the tags so you can learn the technical terms… hey remember when I told to not just stand there…?), we couldn’t chat (I don’t want you to talk to each other, it shows to the customers you are not serious), and we only had 30 minutes of break to eat something, also we had bathroom breaks, which we tried to extend to the maximum and to distribute along the day. I really just wanted for this job to end.

But the worst of all was, that we had to deal with fucking Steve, not only his conversations were awful and the least interesting in the entire history of stories, but also he used to tap my back whenever there was a customer that he wanted me to attend. I wish to erase the memory of his fucking hand touching my back for those 2 seconds, he did it 6 times during the weekend. I wish to erase all of this, all this bad  bad weekend, but specially he touching my sacred body with his filthy hands. 

Every day that passed was harder than the previous one. Everyday Steve had to fucking complain that he was not making enough money, that his minimum was not attaint. Oh! He also had these stupid comments about us like:

- you are doing good… for beginners

- If you did some kind of sport, I’m sure you would have had more technical information to give to the clients, we would have made more sales

- It’s a shame you don’t know anything about bikes

And whenever we were letting a customer go, he would come and say: what was the problem, what did they wanted? (whatever answer you want to insert) ugh, next time send them to me. Or. Ugh you should have said this/that. You can also finish your sale with: what else are you looking for? Or what brought you to the Montreal’s Bike Convention?

Or whatever annoying phrase about any annoying sales topic or bike topic you could imagine.

Also, I forgot to mention, the main reason why he engaged us was so that we could speak in French to the clients. ‘Cause his sorry ass can only take one language in his stupid brain, the language of racist-mysoginist-homophobe-rapist white English. The frustrating part was when he started to explain to his customers:

- I engaged French girls so they can talk in French with the customers

First off, we are not in France you asshole, second, we are NOT FRENCH YOU FUCKING IDIOT, third, could you be more condescending you fucking pig?

And this is the whole point of this stupid experience. He did never ever said thank you, never, not even when we worked packing his stuff (that usually sales people don’t do) or pushing his merchandise on the cart to his truck, or when we worked for 30 extra minutes to help him pack his shit, or when his shit got all over the floor when he was pushing his cart down the ramp and was blocking the cart ramp and we helped him put his shit back to the cart and truck. And the more things went to hell, the more the guy was aggressive and screaming at us if we didn’t do things the way he wanted to be done…

Like: I didn’t tell you to do that! I asked you to put this thing in this box, not on that box!

- I told you first the wheels then the bars!

- No! Don’t put that there!

- oh… could you please push the cart to my truck?

And then, he almost didn’t pay us… or he was hoping we don’t do the math correctly so that he could pay us less than what he owed us…

- Girl, let’s count together because I’m getting stressed and can’t count

- No! Don’t count together, she’s already lost, gimme that… I’ll count for you!

Then… why am I saying he’s racist? My gentle reader may ask… Well, we had a black customer that asked if he could separate some clothes for him, he was going to do the convention tour and then get back to trying the clothes.

- you shouldn’t separate it for him, he’s not coming back, I know his kind

HIS WHAT NOW???

- Oh I meant that the convention is almost closing… I don’t think he will be back

And then he proceeded to tell me the most boring racist story of how one of his bosses in 1978 was racist, not like him. His boss didn’t believe a black successful woman was going to buy an expensive bag. Well fucking Steve didn’t believe a black customer was going to buy a fucking biking jersey that was so old as fucking Steve, all his clothes were shit actually. Well, the customer came and he bought the jersey.

A little girl was hanging around the convention during Saturday and Sunday and asked me and my friend if the clothes we were selling were used. It really felt like some kind of sport thrift store, all the clothes had the hangers sun marks, they were so old and used and so low quality that even with his fucking thin sales managers, he wouldn’t have attaint the fucking minimum that he wanted.

But lastly, we finished the job, we got our pay, we got out of that place, we left the old geezer behind, and my friend and I were left feeling miserable. We called our spouses, to reassure them we were alive, that we got paid, that we were going home. And then all the misery came to our bodies. My feet were hurting, but also my pride. And she started saying why should we go through this, why should anyone go through this. Why after all that we studied, after all that we travelled, after all that we have learnt, why do we have to take this kind of jobs, with this kind of guy in this kind of country. Why has the life treated us so unfairly… what have I done so wrong for me to be found in a situation like this. Why have all my studies done nothing for me. Why do I have to kill my feet and my pride to get a bit of cash… I’m an artist, I wish to create, to be happy, to give something to this cruel cruel world. But right now, I feel just miserable, as if my life had absolutely no meaning. As if I was born with the wrong feet, in the wrong time, the wrong place. Maybe if I was white, maybe if I was rich, maybe if I had picked fucking finance as my career. Just, maybe if I have had a bit more of luck.

But hélas, I’m here, right now, and the only thing that calms me down is writing and hoping to share this with you, my gentle reader.

Yesterday I had nightmares, and then I had a panic attack, and then I was all tears. But my partner was there, to tell me everything was going to be alright, that I will never see fucking Steve again in my life. And with the money I made, I can pay some bills.

Although the next day I still had flashes of this bad bad weekend, I still heard fucking Steve’s voice in my head… I had to pass to another thing, another project made with love, it was another day, a sunny one. And the problem is, I’m so desperate that I’m sure I will do it again, because I need the extra cash right now.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you never cross a fucking Steve in your life. And I hope you will be happy, even if it’s only for an hour during the day. I hope the struggling times will pass fast. I hope you get to do art in your life, it’s the only savior, in this chaotic world.