#hunk is the drummer

[apprentice-s]

thanks for the support on bassist keith he's my special little guy

[amourane]

love notes in music

pairing: drummer!theodore nott x rich girl!reader

genre: fluff, modern au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.

warnings: none

a/n: i am here to push forward the drummer theo agenda because yes yes and yes

Trouble was coming. You could feel it in your bones. Maybe it was the extra shot of espresso you had today or the wild predictions in your horoscope, but you definitely sensed something brewing. It didn’t help that Enzo had interrupted your lunch and dragged you back to campus for god knows what reason.

"Enzo if this is another one of your tricks to get me to dance with you it's not going to work. Remember what happened last time?" 

You dug your heels into the grass as your best friend continued to drag you across the field. The campus auditorium came into view and you frowned. There was no reason for you to even be there today so why was Enzo tugging you along like bait?

“Yes Y/n I remember what happened last time.”

"I fractured my ankle and I do not want to wear a cast ever again. I couldn't match the darn thing with any of my clothes." You huffed out a breath at the memory of the ugly accessory that the doctors had insisted on your wearing despite your protests. 

Admittedly you were a bit of a spoiled brat but at least you knew that you were. Going to a normal university was one of your father’s choices. You would have never gone somewhere so shabby on a daily basis. Truth be told on the first day, you were actually planning to ditch and go grab a chai latte. Then you bumped into Enzo accidentally and the two of you seemed to click. 

It was a good friendship. He’d always be able to tell you when you were being a tad bit annoying because of your rich girl behaviour and you’d be able to join him in his multiple activities. One which led to the infamous ankle incident. 

“Don’t worry Y/n, you’ll still be able to wear that Gucci jacket-”

“It was an Armani jacket.”

“Yeah yeah.” Enzo pushed open the door to the auditorium, and you were immediately greeted by the sound of drums pounding heavily. The amplified sound hurt your ears. “Welcome to the band.” 

“Um...Enzo, do I need to remind you of the time when I broke a guitar?” You nervously watched the live band on stage. Technically it wasn’t your fault that the guitar broke. Enzo never did tell you how to properly use it. “And when did you join a band?”

“Please don’t remind me Y/n also I didn’t actually join the band I’m more of a-”

“Hey Enzo!” 

The music stopped. Your head whipped around and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the absolute hunk that had just shouted. His dark hair seemed to glow under the spotlight making him look like some sort of angel. Your mouth ran dry when he waved a drumstick at you. His fingers looked as if they’d been carved out of stone. And his biceps. God his biceps. The guy was ripped. He was a drummer as well. What was more sexy than a drummer?! 

“Hey Theo!” Enzo, your backstabbing friend who knew your weakness for hot boys with dark hair that played the drums, embraced him in a tight hug. “The practice is going well.”

“I know!” 

Good god, his eyes were like beautiful whirlpools of love. The two boys started talking animatedly about something to do with music. There were a few words thrown here and there that you recognised but other than that you stood watching wide-eyed at the conversation in front of you. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

Theo turned to face you and seeing his face up close only made you want to kiss him more. He really was gorgeous. You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt. “I’m Y/n, Enzo’s best friend, and you are?”

“Theo.” He offered you his hand, which you shook. Wow, his hands were soft. You were almost jealous. Time to buy new hand cream. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re that girl who nearly broke her foot when dancing.”

Your cheeks flushed. Was this your legacy now? The girl that nearly broke her foot while dancing? How horrible. You would much rather be known for your stunning looks or incredible fashion sense. 

“Actually I twisted my ankle but who’s keeping track?” 

“Y/n isn’t the best dancer or guitarist.” Enzo chimed in. “She’s really good at maths though, she’s my second brain.” He said it as if you were simply another organ in his body, but you let it slide, trying to make a good impression on the drummer boy.

Theo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's good to know Enzo has a brain to rely on."

You giggled at his remark, feeling the tension ease a bit. "Yeah, he needs all the help he can get."

"Hey!" Enzo protested, a small pout forming. "I'll have you know I'm quite capable on my own."

"Sure you are." You teased, nudging him playfully. Then, turning back to Theo, you asked, "So, what kind of music do you guys play?"

Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm. "We're a rock band, mostly. Some original stuff, a few covers. We're actually looking for a new guitarist. Interested?" He winked, clearly joking.

You shook your head, laughing. "After what happened last time? I think I'll pass. I'm more of an appreciator of talent than a participant. But I might be persuaded to attend a private concert."

Theo laughed, a rich, warm sound that made your heart flutter. "A private concert, huh? I think we can arrange that."

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go."

Ignoring Enzo, you leaned a bit closer to Theo, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "So, Theo, do you always look this good while playing the drums, or is today a special occasion?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a smirk. "I guess you'll have to come to more practices to find out."

You gave him a once-over, pretending to think it over. "Maybe. I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Sounds like a yes to me. We’ve got a gig this weekend, free up some space in that glamorous life of yours and come.

You tried your best to conceal your excitement at the fact you had just scored yourself a date with a very hot drummer. Forget about trouble today was definitely the best day of your life. 

"Alright, I'll be there." You agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "But only if you promise me a private drum lesson afterward."

"It's a deal. I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment." Theo’s grin only widened and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. He really was handsome and if you didn’t know how he was single but that was good news for you.

“I’ve got some studying to catch up on but I’ll hold you to that.” You offered him a wave goodbye as you made your way out of the auditorium with Enzo. Theo simply smiled, reciprocating your action. 

A giddy feeling overtook your body as the sun shone down on you. There were millions and millions of butterflies soaring in your stomach and you could only squeal at the idea of seeing Theo in the next few days. Before your best friend could say anything you spun on your heels, this time dragging him along with you.

“We need to go shopping right now, I need a new outfit for the weekend.” 

Enzo could only groan as his feet automatically moved. It was going to be a long day.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

UMMM UM I'M SORRY TO DO THIS BUT UHH

HOBIE x SPIRITUAL!OC

HOBIE X BLACK!OC THAT'S LIKE ERYKAH BADU

Do you see it do you see it

Like an incense-burning super-calm natured, grounded, centered black sista

They both have natural hair she compliments him on all the time. In fact, it was one of the first things she said to him - and it stuck with Hobie. Hardly anyone compliments his hair - that like that.

To others, his hair 'interesting' or at most 'stylish'. But he's never had someone call his hair beautiful, or healthy, or inspiring.

She's like 'brotha you need to put me onto what you're on' because seeing Hobie with hair so free and thriving in the world is something so rare and valuable

And her saying that sticks with him so much.

She talks JUST as cryptically as he does.

Most of the things she says are almost phrased like poems. Always dropping little nuggets of knowledge about spirit and racism and balance

Lots of time she'll make references to poems, of quote lines of books from black female writers like Maya Angelou.

She sees him after a long day, telling him 'Look at you, giving a caged bird a reason to sing'

Their conversations sound confusing as FUCK. Hobie and her are always talking in metaphors and making jokes referencing leftist thinkers

They're very into black love.

They bond over literature written by black anti-apartheid thinkers in South Africa, she teaches him how to celebrate Kwanzaa - after Hobie spent years ignoring the holidays (bad memories)

She probably plays the guitar or the bass, but her music is the opposite of his. Hers is the 'smoke sesh' type of slow lofi. Full of hypnotic soothing cards and whisper vocals. Just a politically charged, just as socially concious

She's a lot more spiritual than him, and it's something he has to get used to.

It takes him a bit.

She's ALWAYS burning incense. She'll tuck one behind her air and forget about it, she only wears Earth and jewel tones.

Her house is stacked high with nonfiction books, and she's the only one who can make his cup of tea better than he can - she even got him into green tea. Now he knows what oolong is. What the hell

Sure she makes him take off his boats EVERYTIME he comes over - and was horrified the first time he just walked up in her place with them on - he's still over there all the time.

It's one place he knows he can find calm, or feel safe.

To be honest, she's probably not into his music too much.

She's not into the big crowds and big speakers and drinking at the venues.

She loves hearing HIM play. She doesn't need the bright lights or vocalists or drummers or any of it at all-

Instead she'll just sit on the floor of his boathouse, barefoot and criss cross as she watches him strum away.

And she ADORES when he plays accoustic - something he'll do exclusively for her

The DYNAMIC THE DYNAMIC OKAY

She's not a Spider person. She's a helper in this world too, but she'd rather be a healer than a hero.

It's how she keeps her peace. She's a lot more quiet and soft-spoken than him, but not because she's shy. She's just chilling. Fully committed to never letting no one stress her over NOTHING

Half the time Hobie will be joking or messing or playfully teasing her and she'll be like 'Boy, stop stressing me out.'

And when he's pushed to the edge, full of anger and bitterness and resent at the world, at what they're forced to, by the responsibility he carriers - she's always there to rub circles into his shoulders, putting a record on the player as she fixes them some tea.

He doesn't believe in all that mystic shit, not that much.

The first time he went to her place he raised an eyebrow, asking about her supposed 'rock collection'.

'Those are crystals.'

She explains what they are, and why she keeps them. How she uses them in her spiritual work. He thinks it's a load of bullocks.

Does he actually think this hunk of clear rock is going to 'purify' anything in a world like theirs? NO.

He won't say it, but she can read his vibes like a book.

But she explains that - regardless of all that - most of her crystals were taken from the motherland. And that she's happy having them, it's a way to reclaim a bit of the land they all were taken from.

When he asks what the hell is motherland is she's like

'Africa, Hobie.'

They have some interesting conversations. They were the world VERY VERY differently, but they always see eye-to-eye eventually.

He may not believe in it, but he believes in her.

And when he's at the end of his rope, coming to get place beat to hell and back - and she puts on that incense, the sound of her music hypnotic and sedative - he can't help but feel like he's lost in that world with her.

Hobie believes in anarchy, in all things. He'd love to think that the universe has it all figured out, that everything is in perfect balance as is - but he's not buying it.

And yet sometimes she seems so sure, and so grounded, that he can't help but fall back on her. And she's okay with it, that's what she's there for.

She's happy to exist in silence with him, quietly teaching him the difference between Frankincense and Myrrh incense, the historical uses and how to tell the difference.

She gives him small gifts if things she's made - Florida Water (the spiritual cologne not literal Florida water 😭) for him to use as protection, a cowrie shell bracelet, herbal tea blends made by hand.

She sews up holes in his vest or suit, humming quietly as he lays on the floor, soul food cooking on the stove

DO YOU FEEL THE VIBES DO YOU DO YOU

He's fire and brimstone and loud guitar solos. She's wind and earth, and meditation sessions. She's not a pacifist and she doesn't judge

Despite being two very different people, who approach life in two very different ways, they still find themselves on the same path of wanting to help people

HOBIE AND A SPIRITUAL SISTA. HOBIE AND A BLACK!HIPPIE!READER. PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

LET HOBIE FIND PEACE

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Scottish actor Rory McCann born 24th April 1969 in Glasgow.

Six foot six inches tall, with brown eyes and dark hair, Rory McCann began his working life at the top - as a painter on the Forth Bridge. He came to notice in a television commercial for Scotts' Porage Oats, in which he appeared as a scantily-clad hunk in a vest and kilt and little else wandering snowbound streets but warmed by the inner glow of the porage. He claims that as a consequence he was often approached by people demanding that he "lift his kilt", I can quite believe that as who out there among us has never had that asked of us?

In 2002 he was seen in the TV comedy-drama 'The Book Group' playing a wheelchair-bound lifeguard, a part for which he won a Scottish BAFTA award for the best television performance of 2002. Since then he has taken television roles as Peter the Great and a priest in 'Shameless'. He made his Hollywood debut in Oliver Stone's 'Alexander'. Rory has never been in Taggart but did appear in another well known Scottish show, Monarch of the Glen.

Of course the role he is most famous for is, apart from the porage ads,that of Sandor "The Hound" Clegane in the popular Game of Thrones.

Film role have included, Beowulf & Grendel, Hot Fuzz and xXx: Return of Xander Cage

Rory used to be the frontman of a defunct band called Thundersoup in the early 90s. In 2017 he made a musical appearance as the drummer of Texas, a Scottish rock band, in their music video of Tell That Girl. He also plays the piano, banjo, guitar, and Mandolin.

Rory divides his time between homes in London and Glencoe, eh hates technology and loves being cut off and is known for living a solitary, transient lifestyle, he describes himself as such "I'm a man's man. I go out climbing and live outdoors." He used to solo rock climb and broke multiple bones in a near-fatal rock climbing accident in Yorkshire when he was 21. And ladies he is single, he says "I don't have a mortgage, I don't have a wife and I don't have kids, so I'm quite happy bumbling along."

I have found hat he mentioned a wife to someone in a bar in England last year, saying she set up his social media account as he wasn'ttechnically minded. Rory is normally quite a private person and I can find no evidence that he is actualy married, so who knows!

In 2019 Rory was seen in the Jumanji movie with fellow Scot Karen Gillan. In 2022 he became the narrator of the ITV1 series DNA Journey., We last saw him in the film Jackdaw a british action thriller set in North East England. He has a couple of projects ready for release, The Damned set in Iceland, and voice in a new animated mini series Knuckles, based on the video game Sonic the Hedgehog.

[invisibleraven]

"It's December and you're eating ice-cream?" for Julie and any of her himbos. Plz and thank you

Julie stretched, sighing as she felt the kinks pop in her shoulder, scowling at the history paper that caused it. Too many hours slaving away over Charlemagne, but now it was done, triple proof read and saved so she could hand it in to grumpy old Mrs. Jenkins the following morning. Then the semester would be over and she could enjoy her winter break, finally.

She glanced at the clock and figured it was still the right side of midnight for a snack, creeping down the stairs and wondering if she wanted the fuss of making a grilled cheese or if a simple PB&J would suffice.

Only when she got to the kitchen she saw three familiar figures siting on the island, passing a pint of Chunky Monkey (Carlos's favourite, not hers) around, each with a sticky spoon in their grasp.

"Really guys?"

Alex, Luke, and Reggie all looked up a little guilty before jumping off the counter. "Julie!" they chorused.

"It's Decembe and you're eating ice cream?" she asked, hands on her hips, eyebrow arched in judgement.

"Hey, I'm happy enough we can eat again at all," Reggie said, scooping out another hunk of the frozen treat.

"You'd think we'd be put off eating given the whole dying of food poisoning thing, but nope!" Alex added, swiping the pint to dig out his own share, then passing it to Luke.

"Plus it's not like LA gets overly cold in December, so really any time of year is fit for ice cream," Luke concluded, draining the pint of the last of it's delicacy and tossing it into the garbage with a swish, fist pumping when it went in.

Julie rolled her eyes, and moved around them, gone were they days where she could walk through them. Sure they were still ghosts, but they were tangible now, and apparently, hungry after being denied for so long.

"Well you three are the ones explaining to Carlos where his favourite treat went when he comes looking for it after his game tomorrow," she replied, pulling out the bread and fixings for her sandwich.

"Aw, little dude won't mind," Reggie said, licking the sticky residue still lingering on his digits. "He loves us!"

"And Alex, aren't you lactose intolerant?" Julie asked.

The drummer shrugged, then paled as his stomach let out a loud gurgle. "Oh come on! I'm a ghost it shouldn't count!"

"There's Lact-Aid in the medicine cabinet," she called as Alex rushed off, wrinkling her nose at the thought of what dairy would do to his system.

"We'll replace Carlos' ice cream with some of our gig money boss, promise," Luke assured her, sending her that boyish smile of his and Julie let her annoyance melt.

"See that you do," she replied, hip checking him out of the way as she constructed her sandwich.

"Can I get one of those too?" Reggie asked, his best puppy dog eyes on display.

"Reggie you're allergic to peanuts!" Luke protested. "And I know for a fact you do not wanna go get your very expired EpiPen from Alex's fanny pack right now."

Reggie stuck his tongue out at Luke. "Julie's using sunflower butter!"

"Julie is also not making you a sandwich," she stated.

Reggie shrugged. "Fine, I'll make my own later."

Luke batted his eyes at her in an exaggerated fashion. "What about me boss? Do I get a sandwich?"

Julie rolled her eyes once more. "No. Maybe try that move on Reggie and he'll make you one. I'm taking this to my room and eating it before I hit the hay. It's a school night after all."

"Oh did you finish your paper after?" Reggie asked, opening the fridge once more, but merely to hand her the orange juice so she could pour herself a glass, receiving a nod in thanks.

"Finally," she replied. "Now it's just handing it in and a day full of teacher's putting in minimum effort until early dismissal."

"Then we can work on our new song!" Luke exclaimed.

"Or we could let Julie relax and have the girl's night she planned with Flynn," Julie piped up. "Saturday we'll do some song writing before our gig at the Toys for Tots drive."

Luke grumbled but nodded while Reggie bounced a little on his toes. "I can't wait! I've got my antlers ready and everything!"

"Dude, you know we don't have to dress up right?" Luke asked.

"Tis the season!" Reggie protested.

"You're Jewish!" Luke retorted back.

"Well yeah, but Chanukah is already over, and I celebrated the secular Christmas stuff with my dad's side of the family too," Reggie replied.

"Reggie you are more than welcome to dress up, I have a festive dress picked out, the other two Grinches can wear what they like," Julie assured him. "Now, I'm off to enjoy my snack, please keep the fridge raiding to a minimum, and one of you check on Alex in like five."

"Night Julie!" the boys chorused, and as Julie passed the bathroom she heard a weak echo of it from Alex.

Her guys might be weird, and a little self destructive Julie thought, but she loved them all the same and she couldn't wait to spend the holiday season with them-though she was gonna make sure to keep Alex far far away from the eggnog.

[a-strange-inkling]

Trimmings (pt 2)

Amber works for about fifteen to twenty minutes clipping away diligently. The sound of the scissors opening and closing around his split strands like a slice to the meaty flesh of his heart. He keeps wincing so much that she eventually spins the chair around so he can’t see himself. It doesn’t matter, he can still see his dark hair piling up on the white tile below.

It’s a lot.

“Okay, honey, that’s all the burnt ends,” she tells him. “I’m going to give it a wash and see what can be salvaged, okay?”

“…Mmkay.” he answers numbly, eyes round and vacant.

“Hey dude,” Gareth says from where he’s bouncing the baby on his heels. “She’s real quiet, I think she fell back asleep.”

Eddie blinks himself out of the void, glancing over at them, smiling a little when he sees his baby daughter slumped forward in the front pack, snoozing peacefully. His girl really does love her sleep. “Yeah, she’s out.”

“What do I do?” he asks.

“She can sleep in there if you sit back somewhere so her head’s propped up,” he instructs.

“You can sit with her in my office if you want, Gare Bear.” Amber tells him as she turns the water of the shampoo bowl on. “Got a nice comfy chair in there.”

“Oh, that’d be great Ambie, my legs are killing me.” he replies as she pulls back the bead curtain for him, giving her a quick smooch in passing. She then turns Eddie’s chair around and relines it back at a one hundred and fifty degree angle, wetting his hair with the sprayer. This is usually a pleasant experience for him when he goes in for his occasional trim, but he remains stiff as a board, the water amplifying that awful burnt smell that’s lingering all over him. He can tell that at least four inches are gone already as she scrubs the shampoo into his scalp. He can feel it.

“Alright, honey, real talk,” she says, rinsing out the suds before slowly sitting him back up straight. “I’ve had to take off a good hunk already, and if we’re going to even it out, I’ll have to take off even more and...”

“It’s bad isn’t it?” he asks dully as she dries his hair vigorously with a towel. “Just give it to me straight.”

“Well,” she sucks in air through her teeth, turning him around again as she pulls the towel away so he can assess for himself in the mirror. She has it evened out to the best of her ability up to his ears, with a little more length in the back. He looks like a fucking page boy. “I mean, we could do a lot of layering here and it wouldn’t be too bad, but the thing is, there’s still some heat damage, and I’m afraid if we leave it… you’re going to have trouble growing it out as long as you had it before.”

He squints at her reflection for a long while, finally heaving a long sigh. “…You think that I should just cut it down and start over, don’t you?”

“Sorry, honey, I know it’s not what you wanted to hear and I know how you rocker boys love your long wild hair,” she sympathizes. “But it’s probably what’s best for it in the long run.”

He swallows thickly before resigning himself with a short nod, eyes misting over. He already sensed that this was going to be the case on the ride over… and well he really doesn't want to be stuck at this Amish boy bowl cut length forever. “Alright, okay…” He inhales sharp and deep. “...just do it.”

…

One look at him and Gareth is laughing so hard that he’s wheezing at an unnatural pitch, pointing at him from across the room. “Oh. My. God.”

Eddie deadpans, watching his drummer fall back against the desk chair, struggling to breathe. Olivia’s awake from her catnap, looking quite confused about her whereabouts and her Uncle Gareth’s sudden fit of hysterics. She looks up and around to try to see what all the fuss is about.

“Dude!” he barely manages to say between his short breaths. “Holy fuck!”

“Stop.” Eddie warns darkly.

“Gare Bear!” Amber admonishes in disbelief. “Be nice! He looks great! It’s hard to lose such long gorgeous curls like that.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Gareth tries to calm himself, hooting softly, only to break down all over again, louder than before. “I’m sorry, I can’t even look at you… all you need is a fucking sweater vest and khakis!”

Eddie locks his jaw, heat crawling up the back of his neck. He can’t bring himself to look in the mirror again, but he knows he looks ridiculous.

“Don’t listen to him, honey.” Amber says up to him, patting his shoulder in defense. “I know it was a bummer today, but you still look so handsome!”

“...What time’s the frat party on Saturday, bro?” Gareth asks. “Will you have time to make it after your polo match?”

“Man, you’re really pushing it.”

“Why are you laughing at the cut, Gare?” Amber asks with a frown, putting her fists on her hips. “Do you think that I didn’t do a good job or something?”

“No, baby! No way, you did great!” Gareth assures quickly. “I mean, look at him, he’s so...” His voice cracks right open. “Pretty.”

“That’s it! Give me my baby back so I can kill you.” Eddie quips angrily, stomping forward and reaching for his daughter. Gareth helps him unstrap her from the front pack, still giggling merrily, his amusement apparently worth an ass kicking.

“Let me touch it,” he whispers in awe, reaching up to feel the thicker curls on top that Amber put some product in for texture.

“If you touch me, I will rip your dick off.” he vows under his breath.

“Please,” Gareth begs, fingers curling. “Just once.”

“No.” Eddie seethes.

He pouts in disappointment, but drops his hand. “Jimmy better watch out, you might be the prettiest one in the band now.” Gareth points out, catching his breath. “God it’s been so long…Has your forehead always been so big?”

“Keep going while you still have vocal chords, Gare Bear.” Eddie gives him a venomous smile, lifting his four-month-old up into his arms. “Hey princess, ready to go home?”

Olivia focuses on him with her giant baby cow eyes, blinking twice before suddenly breaking into a fit of tears, wailing in fear.

Her cry startles him out of his skin, the sound puncturing him right through his guts when he realizes that she doesn’t recognize him.

“Oh no! Bug, no, no, no, it’s okay! It’s okay!” he assures her softly, holding her up under her arms, leveling their faces. “Look, it’s me! It’s Daddy!”

She closes her eyes tight as he tries to kiss her cheeks, shaking her head against him, her lower lip trembling. It’s enough to make him want to wither up and die. “Livvy, look, look, please, it’s me! It’s me!” he pleads, hugging her close and nuzzling her gently with his nose. His touch and voice must calm her a little, her cries fade to little whimpers when she gives him a second look.

“Yeah, see it’s Daddy, it’s just Daddy.”

“Oooahhh…” She coos up at him sadly as if in question, patting his face with her chubby little hands, still very confused. He sounds like Daddy and feels like Daddy, but he doesn’t look like Daddy.

“Aw, she knows, honey, don’t worry.” Amber consoles as she grabs a broom to start sweeping up the remains of his glorious locks.“Just going to take some getting used to, is all.”

…

“The guys aren’t going to believe me.” Gareth is still snickering as he pulls up on the side of the road outside his building.

“Well, they can see for themself next week.” Eddie replies in feigned delight. “That will just be so great.”

“Aw come on, you know you’d be rolling on the floor if the same thing happened to any of us,” Gareth points out. “I mean you look good, Amber did a great job given the circumstances… you’re lucky you can pull off both.”

“Yeah, sure.” he mutters miserably.

“And Chrissy will probably like it.”

Something snaps like dry stick in the back of his head at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing!” Gareth replies, realizing he just stepped in it. “Just that you know… Chrissy she’s… you know…”

Eddie waits, eyes fixed on him threateningly. “She’s what?”

“I just mean… she’s a clean cut kind of girl, so she’ll probably, you know, not hate it.” he points out, shrinking beneath the weight of his dark and ominous gaze. “And…I-I’m dead aren’t I?”

“…You’re definitely something.” Eddie replies lowly as his words slithers into the creases of his brain, settling there.

“For real, man, I’m just kidding,” he shifts gears and grows serious, despite his smile. “…you going to be okay?”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders with a roll of his eyes, going for careless, unbothered. “I mean, yeah whatever, it could have been way worse and it will grow back, I guess.”

“Yeah, probably pretty quickly too.” Gareth offers. “And longer.”

“Uh huh,” he sighs, getting out of his seat and grabbing Olivia’s car seat and the baby bag out of the back.

“Hey, you sure you’re good?” Gareth asks him through the window.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I’m fine.” he says back over his shoulder. “Totally fine.”

…

He and Olivia spend the better part of the next hour crying together on the couch.

She usually gets fussy around this time of day anyway, wanting her mother and to be nursed. She takes a bottle fine, but sometimes she’s just not keen on it. Eddie can’t blame her, lifeless silicone can’t possibly compare to the soft comfort of Chrissy’s warm breasts.

It doesn’t help that she's still uncertain about him.

“I know, baby girl, I know…” he laments, cradling her in front of him along his knees as she continues to cry in an almost pleading tone.

“Ooooo.” she hoots out. “Ooo hoo hoo hoo.”

“You’re probably wondering what happened to your cool dad and who the hell this lame, preppy dweeb is.” he wheezes, straining his eyes against the tears as he sobs. “It’s so bad, Olivia.”

He straightens when he hears the front door open and close, followed by a short intake of breath and the sound of keys hitting the floor.

He glances up quickly over his shoulder only to jump out of his skin when he sees his tiny one hundred and eighteen pound wife standing over him, wielding an ice scraper high above her head, ready to swing.

They both let out a scream in surprise.

“AHH! NO! CHRISSY! IT’S JUST ME!” he shouts, pulling Livvy up to his chest as he ducks down low, raising a hand.

Chrissy freezes. “Eddie! What…?”

“It’s me!” he cries, peeking up at her as he slowly unfurls. “Jesus Christ, Christina! It’s me!”

“Oh my God! You scared me!” she gasps, lowering her weapon as her hand grips her chest.

“I scared you!?” he asks incredulously, exchanging a look with Olivia, who is now stunned quiet from all the noise. Eyes huge.

“I thought—I thought someone broke in and was stealing the baby!”

“Well, it’s good to know you’re prepared to straight up decapitate break-ins!” he exclaims.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie...I had no idea…” she breathes, taking him in as she slips off her coat and boots, slowly approaching him in disbelief. “What on earth did you—When—Why did you—Your hair!?”

His face crumbles.

“Oh, baby!” she coos, moving around the couch to his side. “What happened?”

“No, don’t look at me.” he whimpers, drawing her close with one arm, hiding his face in her stomach, while he holds Olivia to sit on his lap with the other. Chrissy staggers forward at his pulling, placing a hand on his head.

“I had to cut it all off or it wouldn’t grow baa-ha-ha-hack.” he explains woefully into the fabric of her sweater. “And Livvy doesn’t even know who I am and I look horrible and Gareth laughed at me and all the other guys are going to laugh at me and the whole aesthetic is ruined! No one is ever going to take me seriously in the metal scene ever again! I’ll never be able to play music! It’s all over! The dream is dead!”

“…You don’t look horrible.” He feels her run her fingers through what’s left of his hair consolingly, nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Don’t lie to me just because you love me!” he retorts vehemently.

“I’m not lying,” she promises soothingly, tugging him back gently, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. “It’s different, but it’s kind of nice...I can see your whole face.” She smiles as she strokes his jaw lovingly, making it very hard for him to pout and be immature about it, so he instead buries back into her. “…Why did you need to cut it in the first place?”

Oh, yeah… that. He peeks up at her hesitantly, his dark eyes huge and shaky, before quickly hiding again.

“Eddie?” she repeats a little more firmly. “Why did you need to cut it?”

“Okay, okay, before I tell you,” he stands up, holding Olivia out to her. The baby immediately reaches out for her mother, squealing excitedly. “I need you to take this,” Chrissy smiles, accepting the offering happily, covering her plushy cheeks with warm kisses. “This perfect angel child,” he runs a hand over their daughter's soft dark hair. “That we made out of our love for one another.” he reminds her intently.

She seems to be catching on that she isn’t going to like with what she hears next. “Okay, yes… now tell me what happened,” she insists as Livvy melts against her, resting her head snuggly against her chest, giving Eddie curious side glances. “What did you do?”

“Okay, so at rehearsal…we’ve been talking about having some new effects for the gig on Saturday for a while now… and Jimmy brought in some of the equipment for these effects, you know, to test out.”

She narrows her eyes immediately, her lips pressing together. “What kind of effects?”

“I just want to point out that no one got hurt, physically speaking…”

“What kind of effects, Eddie?” she repeats through her teeth.

“Various stuff, you know, lighting, smoke, and… pyrotechnics.” he mutters the last part quietly under his breath.

“What was that?” she asks, eyes flashing.

“Pyrotechnics.” He winces, clenching his teeth.

“Edward Robert Munson!”

Oh wow, the full name. Not just ‘Edward’ or the next level up; ‘Edward Robert’, but the actual full trifecta.

He’s dead.

“Yeah… so um… long story short, a faulty flame projector went off and my hair caught on fire while I was on stage.” He starts backing away with his hands up.

“Are you serious!? You caught on fire!?” She follows after him angrily, but then remembers she’s holding the baby and pauses. She looks down at Olivia and then back up at him, realizing why he passed her off.

“Smart tactic.” she admits.

“Thanks,” he breathes. “…I swear baby, nobody got hurt…”

“Nobody got… You caught on fire!” she says again incredulously. “Eddie, are you crazy!? What if it was more than your hair! What if the whole studio caught on fire?” she asks. “Did any of you think about that?”

“No, no not really, the general thought process was pretty much ‘Fire gun? Let me try!’, which by the way, Gareth said Jimmy knew what he was doing and gave him the go ahead…”

She glares darkly.

”So…it’s his fault really, technically speaking!”

“And where was our infant daughter when this happened!?”

“In the sound booth with Randy,” he promises. “Completely safe and nowhere near any fire, I swear.”

She seethes quietly, but seems to be deflating a little as she reaches up to grab his chin, turning it one way and then the other. “And it was just your hair? You didn’t get burned anywhere else?”

“No, I’m okay, promise.” he takes her hand, kissing it tentatively, giving her the big doe eyes he knows she can’t resist.

“Eddie…” She empties her lungs in one exhale. “You’re going to give me a nervous breakdown one of these days.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so, so sorry, it really was a total freak accident and we’re not going to have any fire effects during the show.”

…At least for right now.

He rubs her occupied arms, ducking to kiss her pouty lower lip which she benevolently allows. “Sorry, mmm sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.” He keeps at it until she is smiling and twisting away from him.

“Okay, I get it.”

“Forgive me?” he asks, lifting his hand to hold her in place by the neck, chasing after her lips with a cheeky grin. “Hm, please?”

“Alright, okay, yes!” she giggles, just before he recaptures her mouth.

Olivia makes a noise from between them in protest, whimpering softly, gripping onto Chrissy’s sweater.

Eddie pulls away, frowning sadly. “She’s scared of me now.”

“No she’s not,” Chrissy assures him. “She’s just hungry.”

…

Olivia just keeps eyeing him all through dinner and when they begin to get ready for bed.

“Hey pretty girl,” he tries softly when she looks up at him while Chrissy dresses her in her fuzzy pink pajamas as she lays in her bassinet beside their bed.

She sucks on her fist, kicking her legs.

“Do you know me yet?” he asks in a high, soft voice, rubbing her round little tummy. “Huh?”

“Of course she knows you,” Chrissy says as she snaps the line of buttons along the seam of her onesie. “You’re her daddy.”

“Then she really just hates the new haircut.” he muses.

“She does not.”

There’s a bit more kicking and squirming until she suddenly smiles around her fingers, her round eyes crinkling up happily at him.

“Hey!” he beams. “Hey, Livvy! Hi! Yeah! That’s right, it’s me! It’s Daddy!”

“See? I told you she knows!” Chrissy coos as she lifts her up with a wide open smile, handing her to him. She cries out happily, smacking his face lightly with both her gooey hands as he kisses her nose.

“She was probably just sensing your… distress.”

“Or she’s just finally accepted Mommy’s new dork boyfriend that won’t leave.”

“Oh, stop.” Chrissy sighs in exhaustion.

…

After they get Livvy to sleep, they settle into bed for the night.

Eddie leans over and kisses her before switching off the lamp on their bedside table. He shifts under the covers, pausing and looking down when he feels her hand slowly sliding up his arm. He eyes it with a salacious smirk, a single dark brow raising high. “Oh… is this a hand on shoulder kind of night?”

She smiles coyly as she stretches up and presses her mouth to his, kissing him long and slow, gracefully swinging her leg over his waist to straddle him.

He gasps excitedly between the push and pull of her lips, easing down against the pillow beneath her, his hands rising to squeeze her hips. “I think it is!”

“Shhh…” she hushes, holding back a giggle, her palms finding purpose against his chest as she edges down, making him hiss softly. “It won’t be if you wake Livvy up.”

He hums lowly in agreement, grinning against her lips as she gently rocks into him. He moves a hand to the back of her neck, tilting his chin to deepen the searing kiss, lifting his hips high, making her keen softly.

However, when he feels her fingers trail up his neck into his hair, gripping the thicker layer on top, he suddenly stills, thrown off by how strange it feels.

How lacking.

He breaks the kiss, meeting her gaze. “Hey, wait, wait.”

“What?” she breathes. “What’s wrong?”

“Chrissy will probably like it.” Gareth’s comment echoes in the back of his mind.

“…Do you like it like this?” He voices his thoughts aloud.

“Like what?” She tilts her head at him.

Like all the preppy fuckers she goes to school with that always make a pass at her. Like all the guys she grew up surrounded by. Like her ex-boyfriend.

“My hair.” he pants. “Short like this.”

“Eddie…” she sighs tiredly, her forehead falling to his chest. “Oh my God.”

“I mean… you’re awfully giddy.”

She gives him a thoroughly unimpressed look.

“Think carefully… is there a right way for me to answer this question for you?” she asks, locking their eyes. “If I say I don’t you’ll be upset about losing your hair, and if I say I do you’ll be upset that I prefer it short when you prefer it long.”

“I won’t be upset either way, I promise,” he says. “I mean, you’re my wife, I honestly just want to know your preference.”

She doesn’t quite look like she remotely believes him. “Well, I don’t have one.”

“Oh, come on.” he replies. “You have to! The contrast is insane. I look like a whole different person. Our daughter didn’t recognize me. You have to have an opinion!”

“I don’t,” she insists, grabbing his chin, angling him up toward her. “I don’t care what your hair looks like as long as you're attached to it… You’re really overthinking this, baby.”

“…Sorry.” he finally sighs, shaking his head at himself as he meets her lips again. “I’m just really in my own head right now.”

“It was a stressful day.” She reminds him, softening as she sits up on her feet a moment to lift her shirt over her head. She tips back over him as his palms slide up the smooth plane of her back. “But, you’re not hurt, thank God, and it’s going to grow back.”

He nods slowly, closing his eyes and tries to focus on the slip of her warm tongue between his lips… but now she’s not touching his hair at all, instead fisting the fabric of his shirt.

And just like that, more irrational, unprecedented paranoia.

Does she really not like it? Does he look too different? Too much like those cookie cutter yuppies? It’s not like she married any of them.

She married him.

He cuts her off again, hands sliding up to cup her face, gently tugging her back. “But do you um… do you want it to grow back?”

“Eddie.” she whines limply. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound right now?”

“I just really need to know if you like it or not!”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does!”

“Okay, okay, Eddie, fine,” she cries in exasperation. “You caught me, I was only ever attracted to you for your hair, and now that it’s gone, I guess we’re just going to have to wait for it to grow back out to have sex.”

With that, she dismounts him and lays back down beneath the comforter, turning over to her side.

“…Well I mean, let’s not get carried away here.” He whispers hurriedly, following after her, spooning her up against him.

“Too late for that.” she mutters in annoyance, curling up tight when he tries to nuzzle her neck.

“I know, I’m sorry.” he says again into her hair. “I’m being an idiot.”

“Why do you think it would even matter to me?” she asks. “I mean you didn’t even have any hair when we met and I still thought you were the coolest.”

“I don’t know, it’s just throwing me the fuck off…” he murmurs into her shoulder. He probably sounds like a hypocrite right now. He’s always the one reminding her, showing her, how beautiful she is. He’s always been the one comfortable in his skin while she struggles in her own. “I’ve just been growing it out for so long and now it’s like my whole look… identity is gone and… I guess I thought it would throw you off too.”

“I mean, yes,” she sighs, turning and laying on her back to look up at him. “It’s really different, but I still like it… It’s not a more or less thing.”

“Mhm.” he hums halfheartedly.

She caresses his face, moving her thumb along his cheek. “I went through a lot of changes over the last year too and I know there were a few things you appreciated about that.” Her eyes flit down to her fuller, rounder breasts then back up at him, making him flush and avoid her gaze sheepishly.

“…Did you not like them before when they were smaller?” she asks.

Guilt seeps into him at that, remembering all of her physical challenges and insecurities she had to overcome while she was pregnant with Olivia.

He shakes his head. “They’re perfect, they’ve always been perfect.” he mutters a little petulantly. “You’re perfect.”

“Okay, but what about my waist? My hips?” she asks him, placing her hands over his, drawing them along her curves that have become softer, less jagged. “They’re more filled out now, I’ve put on some weight, almost ten pounds.”

“Chrissy…”

“Do you like me better like this?” she asks him.

“Alright, okay,” he surrenders, pressing his forehead against hers. “I get it, I get the point.”

“Good,” she smiles with a little huff. “…Now will you please just kiss me.”

He snorts, unable to fight off his smile as he obliges.

[imgonnagetkilledbynutstink]

Someone: hey you know that singer you like? The gay one who has no idea what they're doing and has a silly voice and can really only play the tambourine? They're in the band with the shy guitarist and the hippie/hunk drummer

Me: you HAVE to be more specific

[amazinglyegg]

it's been a second but now i gotta ask

any wholesome carrington headcanons ? hobbies , habits , etc. ?

(maybe sometime we should chat and discuss the grumpy man 👀 it's nice to have other enthusiasts around lol)

WOO CARRINGTON!! I'm sorry this took a while to get out I have such bad writers block atm but I can't NOT make posts about my blorbo <3

Wholesome Carrington Headcanons

I like to think the Railroad is a pretty tight-knit place and everybody gets along fairly well

Like Deacon says: "We're just one big dysfunctional family... with guns!"

That includes meals together, game nights, domestic sleepy mornings, whatever comes to mind

Game nights are... interesting to say the least

Reminds me of this incorrect quotes post I have accepted as canon (Carrington's Great Jenga Tantrum)

I constantly see Carrington cutting up big hunks of meat at one of the benches in his area so on top of being their doctor he probably also cooks

He tries to make enough food for everyone in HQ and will chase down anyone trying to avoid taking care of themselves and give them a plate

Some agents think it's a waste of time because everyone is on different schedules but Carrington really likes it

He keeps track of any allergies as well as general likes and dislikes and tries to make something for everyone

Deep down he has a soft spot for all the agents in the Railroad

If someone's clearly struggling he'll be quieter and more patient with them

Says he doesn't like working with kids or animals but acually is really good with them

Mentioned this already in another headcanons post but him and Deacon get along well!

Deacon actually trusts him a lot (for Deacon's standards)

Most of the others (Tom, Drummer Boy, Glory) have a habit of spilling information Deacon tells them because they don't understand just how private Deacon really is

Carrington takes patient confidentiality very seriously and understands that Deacon doesn't really let people know anything about him, not even the basics

Carrington probably knows Deacon better than anyone else at this point, and he's the only doctor Deacon can comfortably go to

You can often find Carrington collecting and working through crosswords, word searches, sudoku, or any other word/number games

He likes keeping his brain sharp but reading hurts his eyes, so puzzles are the second best thing

In Switchboard they had a table dedicated to a 1000 piece puzzle

Six pieces were missing. Carrington was upset.

I feel like he's the type of guy to accept and keep ALL gifts given to him, especially from children

Between joining the Railroad and move from Switchboard he's lost basically all his gifts

Synth Shaun drew him a picture while staying in HQ and Carrington framed it and put it up on the wall

He generally acts all tough on the outside but is a real softie on the inside <3

[kiethko]

(from @lanceyvoltron) do you have any headcanons about band!voltron? here is what i think each person plays :

lance: bass player (bc jeremy shada also plays bass mostly but also he has Bass Player Vibes) and vocalist

pidge: drummer (she has so much rage inside)

hunk: lead guitar (i just KNOW hunk can shred)

keith: rhythm guitar (i know lead or drums are the more obvious answers but rhythm guitar feels Right to me) and perhaps vocals also

allura: keys and vocals

shiro: um... roadie??? percussion??

coran: coranager

@lanceyvoltron

oh hell yeah i love band aus...

okay. all of ur ideas? genius!! i think allura could also do violin alongside keyboard, and i think pidge could have a mic for occasional background vocal screaming. okay but hear me out here:

basically as u said: lance as bassist/vocalist, allura as keyboard/violin/vocalist, hunk as guitar/vocalist (i think lance as the main vocalist and allura and hunk trading off as co-vocalists but not like... backing vocals yk? when either or both aren't singing with lance i think they'd do backging vocals), and pidge as occassional backing vocals and drums/percussion.

i think they would be like uhh. indie/alt rock/pop, yk? softer stuff (pidge writes a few tracks where she can scream though LMFAO) and coran as their manager. ahem. okay so where is shiro and keith?

they're in a different band, except not like... battle of the bands type stuff. i think they'd be a brother duo, more into a faster paced alt rock? im sort of on the fence between keith singing vs keith just doing backings and being mysterious and shit. i think shiro would do drums and keith guitar? matt can join them for funsies somtimes (sort of like how some bands have like permanent members and touring members to fill instruments live?) i think he'd do drums too. pidge definitely learned from matt drums? but anyways, matt isn't like, "officially" part of the band but tours with them sometimes i think? okay. idk who would be their manager. maybe adam or something. kolivan. idk LMFAO

okay, so there's 2 bands but it's not like they're battling each other a la battle of the bands like i mentioned earlier. i think lance's band would be smaller in popularity, but they've been getting a lot of following and hype lately. shiro and keith's opening act bailed before their tour starts so they get lance's band to tour with them! idk how touring bands work with the main band or anything but i'd like to think they hang out a lot since they're touring together? this is fun to think about tbh. i love band aus, thank u for the ask!!

[jellybracelet]

So funny bc before I was 21 or so I was pretty much only into skinny drummer dude types and now I'm exclusively into super athletic hunks. I blame Jared padalecki

[talesfrommedinastation]

If you've been reading 'Far Past The Ring', and are a fan of 'The Expanse', vaguely miffed that we haven't seen Camina Drummer, the Rocinante, or a certain neurodiverse hunk with a gun prancing around in the story (Not you, Tech, there's more then one in space, here!), don't fret!

'Station 47' (the first part of this massive piece) is done!

While Clone Force 99 is still going to play a massive part, buckle up, because the next piece will be featuring our friends from Earth, Mars, and the Belt in no time at all. Of course the Roci is coming on in, too.

Buckle in and get your juice on, it's thrust time!

Tenye wa chesh gut, Marauder!

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 30th January

We're on a really solid run of guitar-driven rock songs, aren't we? This week we get another - and not just any old song, but one of the rock and roll songs! Along with a country-ish number. Which isn't half as well-known, but if we were only here for well-known songs, I wouldn't be running this project the way I'm running it. So, without further ado...

Jailhouse Rock - Elvis Presley (peaked at Number 1)

That intro, man. It's iconic, just two notes on the guitar and two heavy snare hits. Repeat it, and then bring Elvis in - not at all singing at the pace that the drumming would immediately suggest - with lyrics about how the warden threw a party in the country jail. I'm making a deliberate effort to call less things iconic, but if anything is legitimately iconic, it's the start of this song, right?

Anyway, we then pick up the pace, as Elvis continues telling his story - because this is absolutely a story song abouta party in a prison, with lots of little comic details to spice it up. We've got a little gay reference that the censors seem to have missed as one prisoner tells another that You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see. We get the warden urging a particuarly mopey prisoner that If you can't find a partner, use a wooden chair. We even get two prisoners contemplating escape, until one of them decides that I wanna stick around awhile and get my kicks. They're all little moments, and the whole thing reads like a sketch or a skit, as the "let's have a party" genre of rock and roll song is transposed to a setting where you absolutely wouldn't expect there to be a party.

I don't have a point to make here, but I love the names that you get throughout. In song order we get Spider Murphy, Little Joe, the drummer boy from Illinois, the Purple Gang, Sad Sack, Shifty Henry and Bugs/Bugsy. What a badass-sounding bunch of people. For added fun, some were apparently references to real people, such as Shifty Henry being a real musician from Los Angeles.

Musically, the song is also notably a bit more guitar and piano-led than we've heard from Elvis before. We've still got a double bass, but we've lost the sax and horn section that we used to have. Elvis hasn't gone fully the way of Buddy Holly or the Everlys, but it's interestingly modern, still, especially in a song whose lyrics are still referencing the old-style tenor sax and slide trombone sort of band.

Of course, there's a reason for all the guitar. The song's from a film, also called Jailhouse Rock, all about a man who learns to play guitar in prison, having been taught by his washed-up country musician cellmate whose name is - no joke - Hunk Houghton. The whole film is a pretty transparent vehicle for lots of Elvis songs, but it nevertheless managed to apparently stir up quite a bit of controversy for having an antihero convict main character, for using the word "hell" as a profanity, and for one implied sex scene. All of which honestly probably helped its marketing, now I think about it...

It's also worth noting that the film, in its day, drew praise for the elaborate choreography and set-dressing of scenes like the one accompanying this song, where Elvis danced on screen for the first time, still from which were used in a lot of the film's promotion. Until now, this is something we've barely had to talk about. Music has remained for the most part an audio phenomenon. But here, with film going strong and television becoming increasingly common, I really think we're seeing the seeds for music videos, and musical artists as visual performers, whose very image and movements on stage can be packaged and sold back to you in new, exciting formats. Elvis singing is cool, but Elvis dancing? Elvis dancing is killer.

The Story of My Life - Michael Holliday (1)

Two steps forward, one step back. This is much more traditional and much less interesting than Jailhouse Rock. It's not bad, though, by any measure, and it was clearly popular in its day - bafflingly, this actually pushed Jailhouse Rock from the top spot. And it stayed there for a full two weeks longer!

So what do we have? Well, on the surface, it's a very cutesy song about how Michael's going to write the story of his life, and record all the important moments in him and his lady's relationship. Thus we hear about how I'll tell about the night we met / And how my heart can't forget / The way you smiled at me. We get some darker moments, including the sorrow when our love was breakin' up / The memory of a broken heart. But they make up, and he rounds off the song noting that there's one thing left to do - he needs to marry his lady, so that the story of his life can start and end with her.

If you think about it too hard, this is actually a pretty morbid final line, but we're not thinking that hard here, so it's fine. The song's clearly not meant to be much more than fluff. From the ooooh backing singers, and their little roodle-ooh (?) bits, to the whistling after each of Michael's lines, it's all just very twee. You could absolutely see some 2000s precocious indie darlings sampling it, you know? It would probably end up being used in ads, and we'd all be thoroughly sick of it. It's that sort of inoffensive cuteness.

We take a whole trip through Michael's life, and then the song starts all over again, repeating key lines to fill out the time. At this point, you're starting to think that the song has maybe overstayed its welcome - the only saving grace is the final line, which repeats kind of eerily, with Michael marrying his love so the story of my life can start and end and start and end and start and end with you. It's almost like the record's skipping or stuck, and if you squint there could be something clever in that, the way that he's just in love, day in and out, never changing. It's a squint, but it almost justifies itself. Or I like it, at least.

Compared to Jailhouse Rock, this is clearly just not of the same calibre. But there's something about songs like this one. They do need to exist - for every iconic, cutting-edge song, you need something to contrast it with, something for the average man on the street, who just wants something palatable and enjoyable to listen to. It doesn't need to be wild, and this isn't. It still got to Number 1. And that's fine. Not everything can be ground-breaking.

There's no surprises in my choice for favourite song this week. Honestly, I sometimes feel sorry for artists like Michael, when their Number 1 is up against a juggernaut like Jailhouse Rock. If this were a one-song week, I'm sure I'd find better things to say about Story of My Life - or at least more to say about it. I might dig into its country origins, or its fairly storied afterlife. As it is, it's the safe, middle-of-the-road contrast song to a genuine iconic classic that at least prefigures modern music videos. Not bad for a fairly short song about prisoners being silly.

Favourite song of the bunch: Jailhouse Rock

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Scottish actor Rory McCann born 24th April 1969 in Glasgow.

Six foot six inches tall, with brown eyes and dark hair, Rory McCann began his working life at the top - as a painter on the Forth Bridge. He came to notice in a television commercial for Scotts' Porage Oats, in which he appeared as a scantily-clad hunk in a vest and kilt and little else wandering snowbound streets but warmed by the inner glow of the porage. He claims that as a consequence he was often approached by people demanding that he "lift his kilt", I can quite believe that as who out there among us has never had that asked of us?

In 2002 he was seen in the TV comedy-drama 'The Book Group' playing a wheelchair-bound lifeguard, a part for which he won a Scottish BAFTA award for the best television performance of 2002. Since then he has taken television roles as Peter the Great and a priest in 'Shameless'. He made his Hollywood debut in Oliver Stone's 'Alexander'. Rory has never been in Taggart but did appear in another well known Scottish show, Monarch of the Glen.

Of course the role he is most famous for is, apart from the porage ads,that of Sandor "The Hound" Clegane in the popular Game of Thrones.

Film role have included, Beowulf & Grendel, Hot Fuzz and xXx: Return of Xander Cage

Rory used to be the frontman of a defunct band called Thundersoup in the early 90s. In 2017 he made a musical appearance as the drummer of Texas, a Scottish rock band, in their music video of Tell That Girl. He also plays the piano, banjo, guitar, and Mandolin.

Rory divides his time between homes in London and Glencoe, eh hates technology and loves being cut off and is known for living a solitary, transient lifestyle, he describes himself as such "I'm a man's man. I go out climbing and live outdoors." He used to solo rock climb and broke multiple bones in a near-fatal rock climbing accident in Yorkshire when he was 21. And ladies he is single, he says "I don't have a mortgage, I don't have a wife and I don't have kids, so I'm quite happy bumbling along."

In 2019 Rory was seen in the Jumanji movie with fellow Scot Karen Gillan. In 2022 he became the narrator of the ITV1 series DNA Journey., he is set to "appear" in a new animated show Knuckles, based on the video game Sonic the Hedgehog.

[ao3-feed-shadam]

I miss having sex but at least I don't wanna die

by changveenie

indie band The Garrison are looking for a vocalist, while their drummer is going through a midlife crisis (because he is indeed mid)

Words: 2694, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Adam (Voltron), Acxa (Voltron), Lance's Family (Voltron), Veronica (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Lotor (Voltron), Ezor (Voltron), Zethrid (Voltron), Nyma (Voltron), James Griffin (Voltron), Krolia (Voltron), Keith's Wolf (Voltron), Keith's Sister (Voltron), Keith's Family (Voltron), Shiro's Mother (Voltron), Shiro's Family (Voltron), Lance's Mother (Voltron), Lance's Siblings (Voltron), Lance's Father (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt's Family, Coran (Voltron), Matt Holt

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Hunk & Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Acxa & Ezor & Keith & Zethrid (Voltron), Acxa & Keith (Voltron), Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Lance & Veronica (Voltron), Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Adam/Shiro (Voltron)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Asexual Keith (Voltron), Pansexual Hunk (Voltron), Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Slow Burn Keith/Lance (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, Acxa & Keith (Voltron) are Siblings, Lesbian Acxa (Voltron), Minor Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Lotor (Voltron) Being an Asshole, Allura (Voltron) Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Human, Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) Friendship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Title from a Waterparks Song, Song: I Miss Having Sex but At Least I Don't Wanna Die Anymore (Waterparks), Song: Anti-Hero (Taylor Swift), Song: Another Love (Tom Odell), Asexual Relationship, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Italian Pidge | Katie Holt

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/48257551

[pvtjoker22]

“Hello, little man. Boy, I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your dad’s. We were in that casual dining establishment pit of hell together over five years. Hopefully, you’ll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Dad were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talking right now to my son Jim. But the way it turned out is I’m talking to you, Butch. I got something for you.

This size XS band tee I got here was first purchased by your great-grandfather during the Denny’s Grand Slam. It was bought on a little merch table in Houston, Texas. Made by the first musical act to ever play at a closing Denny’s. Up till then people just played music in stadiums and dive bars. It was bought by private Doughboy Ernie Coolidge on the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great-grandfather’s favourite tee and he wore it every day he was in that kitchen. When he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the shirt off, put it an old coffee can, and in that can it stayed until your granddad Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and flip some burgers once again. This time they called it Denny’s Grand Slam II with Wacko of the OC punk scene headlining. Your great-grandfather gave this tee to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane’s luck wasn’t as good as his old man’s. Dane was a roadie and he was killed, along with the other roadies at the battle of Denny’s Grand Slam II. Your granddad was facing death, he knew it. None of those boys had any illusions about ever leaving that restaurant alive. So three days before the managers took the booked room, your granddad asked a drummer on a shopping cart transport name of Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he’d never seen in the flesh, his prized XS tee. Three days later, your granddad was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the restaurant was closed for the evening, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his dad’s sweaty tee.

This shirt. This shirt was on your daddy’s hips when he was shot down over Denny’s. He was captured, put in a Denny’s prison camp. He knew if the cooks ever saw the shirt it’d be confiscated, taken away. The way your dad looked at it, that shirt was your birthright. He’d be damned if any maître d' were gonna put their greasy oil-soaked hands on his boy’s birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this shirt up his ass. Then he died of dysentery, he gave me the shirt. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of fabric up my ass two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the shirt to you.”

[guysofeurovision]

Have you noticed the drummer from Cloudless in Vidbir? His decision to go sleeveless was very well appreciated

No but now I have! And he is an absolute hottie 😎