#on guitar! but I think the thing about this version that I posted is that the guitar IS louder throughout which is good!

[genderqueer-karma]

no more infodumping!! only infobeating the information into your heads (lovingly)

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

One day, mark my words, I will write an essay and maybe even make some gifs for a post dedicated to what a brilliant pianist/keyboardist and songwriter (and singer) Nickey Barclay is - she, who wrote this song, of course - but I'm posting this here to instead highlight THE BADASSERY THAT IS JUNE MILLINGTON'S GUITAR WORK ON THIS. Whenever I listen to Fanny's hard rock songs like this I always marvel at the fact that June was so reluctant to do more music like that because SHE SO, SO EXCELLED AT IT!? (I think it was Alice de Buhr, the drummer, who stated that June so rarely wanted to play, and almost definitely not write, hard rock songs, the type that Nickey Barclay would most often bring in for them to record, and Alice was baffled by it because June's hard rock guitar work was so fucking good!)

Seriously, June's guitar is so smooth throughout and adds the perfect flourishes coming in behind Nickey's piano (or somewhat, I think, in answer to the piano, actually), it makes it such a remarkable musical map that they created with this song, pun intended. And June's guitar solo in this is probably one of my favorite rock solos ever.

And if that isn't convincing enough to you how good the guitar work is on this song, or how good this song is in general, let me just admit that I used to NOT LIKE THIS SONG. I DID NOT LIKE THIS SONG, for at least a couple of years after I discovered Fanny! But it's really after I watched Fanny's live performance of this song from the German TV show Beat-Club that I started to like it, because I had a much greater appreciation of June's guitar work on this song after listening to/watching the live performance of it. But now that I love it, I love the album version of it, too.

Bless the guitar goddess that is June Millington!

Also, if you'd like to hear the album (extended) version of this song that I mentioned in the tags that I luckily found!, you can go here, and (on the second side/half of the album) "Place in the Country" starts at about 11:23.

[patrickztump]

oh i looked for your name on the ouija board and your naked magic, oh dear lord..

i didn't want to bulk up the post with multiple paragraphs or add it in a reblog but i wanted to talk about this a little :)

i was thinking about the gif i made last year for where did the party go and still love how it turned out. it gives me lost tapes vibes and i've also been into a lot of throwback/retro themed art, so wanted to tap into that with a stack of tvs.

there are clear references to the music video with the disco ball, that abandoned hospital wall color, spray painted symbol, and The Cord. but the tvs also tie back to the album cover, mirroring the clothing colors. and if you take a peek at the runtime on the tv, it's to where the lyrics start in the song (minus the milliseconds, itunes didn't provide it so i just threw a couple to the end).

i know the machete didn't come in until the end half of death valley and guitar not until save rock and roll, but last summer i made another version of that and have been trying to use it in something since, but never found the right idea to incorporate it. so i figured add it to this piece because so many associate lyrics of love and comparisons to pete and patrick's relationship, so why no put the two together? they were brought together by music, torn apart by it, then made whole again from it.

also, since i started using procreate i've been able to do about 60-70% (of large projects, like this) in the program before having to eventually move it into photoshop to finish it up. but this one is 99% procreate! the only thing that's ps is the "and the love on tv / love on tv" text because i couldn't quite replicate it the same way i did in ps (skill issue as of right now lol). but i a quite proud of that! because the learning curve has been a slow and steady climb.

anyways, there you go! if you read this, thank you <3 and i hope you enjoyed this little scene my brain plopped out :)

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 5 of November Paramedic; part 4 is here and the AO3 version is here.)

Liquid sound courses through Eddie's body. His fingers dance over Sweetheart's strings, hitting every note perfectly. Behind him, Gareth is going at the drums like a beast while Jeff and Marv have gravitated together, now playing back-to-back. In front of him, a wall of people is pogoing, restricted by The Behemoth's 'no moshing policy'. When he launches into the solo, their headbanging turns so vicious they're but a wild sea of hair with haphazard devil horns sticking up. Solo over, he grabs the mic to roar the outro lyrics.

The audience screams; Eddie's ears ring. His veins hold more adrenaline than blood and his life has never been better.

"Thank you! You've been glorious tonight!" He sweeps his sweat-soaked hair from his face and winks at a cluster of girls in the front row. "We're Corroded Coffin and you'll see us here again soon. For now, thank you and good night!"

On his way off the stage, he catches one of the girls' hand and drops a kiss on her palm. She beams, face pink, as her friends shriek.

It's not his favorite thing about performing. He likes playing on stage because of the release, because of the building nervosity that erupts with the music. He likes it because it's fun. But the electricity between him and the crowd? The charged looks of pure want from men and women alike?

It doesn't make it worse. He's not burdened by being desired.

They congratulate each other outside as they deposit their guitars and few pieces of personal equipment in Eddie's van. Gareth is especially bouncy, telling Eddie over and over how he was great, he was on fire, he was invincible. Eddie would've questioned the post-show hype if he hadn't immediately demanded they go back inside for drinks; if Gareth thinks he can flatter himself into a free round, he's correct.

After the fresh June night, the air inside The Behemoth is stiflingly hot. It plus the hum of the patrons leave a cloying buzz in the back of his head. He might only stay for the one round before going home. Possibly two if those front-row ladies decide to pay; they're eyeing him right now. Sure, they're not Eddie's type, but that's what the other guys are there for.

Except when the women approach, Gareth shuts them off by pulling Marv in between them and steering Eddie in the opposite direction. Pushing Eddie forward, seemingly uncaring if Jeff and Marv keep up, he goes on his tip toes and hops every other step to peer above the crowd.

"Are you looking for someone?" Eddie asks.

"Noo, I just thought I saw someone at the bar…"

"Yeah, that means you're looking for someone, dipshit. Who is it?"

"It's… Uh…" Gareth says inattentively, scanning the bar area.

A large hand clamps around Eddie's shoulder, turning him around. He promptly swallows his tongue.

"Dude, you were great!" Steve says, smiling so big it could sustain a small country with power for the winter.

His hair is fluffy tonight, lying in a soft swoop. He's wearing a charcoal Henley, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tufts of chest hair peeking out from between the undone buttons. And he's got glasses on. Fucking glasses. Thin wireframes, an elegant complement to his beautiful face and delicate contrast to his hunky everything else.

Eddie's reply is strangled nonsense that drowns in Gareth's shouted, "Hey! You made it!"

"Yeah, man! Thanks for the invite!" Steve says, extending his hand for a shake.

"Anytime, dude! S'great to see you," Gareth replies, slapping and grabbing Steve's hand in a perfectly executed man-shake. Like they're a pair of fucking frat bros.

But that isn't the important part. No, the important part here is the word 'invite'. Who, when, where, and above all what the fuck??

"We loved it!" Robin says from half behind Steve. Because of course she's also here, wearing a patterned blazer that should clash with her differently patterned button down, yet doesn't. She continues gushing about the performance as Steve nods along and the rest of the band interject their gratitude whenever she pauses for breath for longer than a second. Eddie is the only one who hasn't said a peep.

He needs to fucking peep.

"Glasses!"

His exclamation has the others turn and stare so fast their necks snap. He ignores Gareth's snicker, cheeks burning. One of these days he will run into Steve without acting like a fool, but not today.

"What?" Steve says, his already huge eyes magnified by the glass. Damn, his lashes are long and dark.

"Y-You got glasses. I didn't know that."

Steve's brows jump, as if he forgot he's wearing them. He briefly goes cross-eyed as he tries to look at the spectacles resting on his nose. Then he lets out a giggle that's so cute it hurts.

"Oh, yeah. I usually wear contacts, but they expired and the new ones haven't arrived yet." He scratches beneath his eye, pushing the glasses askew. "I'd just wear the expired ones, but…"

"No!" Robin snaps. "It's bad for your eyes!"

"Yeah."

"You need to take care of yourself!"

Steve levels her with an unimpressed look, cocked eyebrow and pursed, plush lips included. "That's rich coming from someone who stopped eating halfway through an Alfred Hitchcock marathon because she didn't want to pause Saboteur to go grocery shopping."

Robin puts a scandalized hand to her chest. "I'm a linguist, not a medic. I can do whatever I want."

"That's not-"

"Anyway!" She smiles at Eddie and the guys. "You rocked. We had a blast. Steve even danced."

"That wasn't dancing. I was keeping you from faceplanting when you tripped over your own feet."

"Steve, go buy us drinks," Robin says.

"Why me?"

"They brought the entertainment; we'll bring the refreshments. And I'm broke. So chop-chop!"

She claps twice an inch from his nose tip. Steve rolls his eyes, but obliges, striding off toward the bar. Robin emits a witchlike cackle at getting her way.

Eddie elbows Gareth in the ribs hard, gritting out, "You invited them, huh?"

Gareth grins impishly even as he rubs the most certainly bruising spot. However, Robin's villainous glee melts away; she frowns.

"Is that a problem?" she asks.

Shit.

"Oh, no, no!" he says.

"Never!" Gareth shouts.

"New faces in the audience is always a cause for celebration," Marv says.

"He just didn't expect to see you, is all." Jeff steps between Eddie and Robin, wearing a disarming smile. "Gareth didn't tell any of us we had special guests waiting, but it's great to have you here. I'm Jeff."

Robin hums and appraises them with suspicion, eyes lingering on Eddie. Then she smiles; it would've been pleasant if it wasn't so sharp.

"Let's grab a table," she says.

They pick one in the quieter part of the bar. The booths don't fit more than four people, five if you're determined, but they solve it by having Gareth perch on the adjacent window ledge and by Robin sitting on Steve's lap.

It's first when Robin asks for details about the band that Eddie realizes how golden the opportunity is. The previous times he's met Steve, he's been at a disadvantage. Injured, caught by surprise, distracted by tight jeans or sweat rolling down necks. And yeah, he was surprised today, too. And he won't claim that it's easy to focus whenever Steve reaches for his glass, exposed forearm flexing with the movement.

Nevertheless, this is Eddie's turf. This is his stage. Here, he is king. And he will hold court like his life depends on it.

He talks about the band. He talks about their influences, about guitars, about the lyrics he writes. Robin participates in the conversation by making connections to punk music, but Steve only listens, eyes darting between them all like it's a five-way ping pong match and his attention is the ball. But mostly, he's in Eddie's palm, staring like only he has the answers. Fuck, like he is the answer.

It's enough to give a guy a god complex. The person who was created to be looked at is now looking at him.

It makes him bolder. Makes him touch Steve more, touch him longer. Close the distance between them when he speaks and zeros in on Steve's lips when he replies. And Steve… responds? He thinks? It's difficult to tell, because Steve's reciprocal touches are restricted by the lapful of Robin, and he seems to have a habit of looking at everyone's mouth when they talk. The boys appear optimistic, though, sending him encouraging signals from across the table and the window. He'll just have to use it as fuel and keep on trucking.

Somewhere along the way they move on to D&D. Steve remains enrapt by Eddie's every word, hanging on to the golden threads he spins. His only actual contribution comes at the end, asking if their game has space for one more. Eddie’s pulse jumps in his throat.

"Methinks we do." He leans back, exposing his neck, while giving Steve his best bedroom eyes from above the rim of his glass. "Why, you interested?"

"Not me," Steve says; Eddie barely has the willpower to smack his head against the table with disappointment. "But Lucas plays. Or he used to. His… what's the term? His group?"

"Party," Jeff says.

"Party. They're scattered all over the world now. I think he misses it."

"He hasn't said anything about it, but…" Robin trails off. Steve jostles her.

"You never talk about band, but you miss the trumpet like hell, don't you?"

"Ugh, I dooooooo!" she says, kicking her legs.

"We can bring him aboard and see how he fits," Eddie says. "If he so wishes."

Steve smiles like Eddie just promised Lucas a kidney. "Thanks."

Eddie gulps a large mouthful of beer to wet his drying mouth. "Anything for you."

They leave soon after that for food. Gareth especially needs it, starting to become tipsy on his stomach of nothing but beer. Although, outside, it becomes clear he passed 'tipsy' a while back when he climbs onto Jeff's back and yells, "Race!"

Jeff laughs as he hikes Gareth farther up. Robin glances at Steve, then spins away and mounts Marv's back instead.

"I promise I'm lighter than I look," she says.

"You look as light as your namesake," Marv says; she gently smacks his shoulder.

"Don't flatter me; I'm immune."

Gareth, holding Jeff’s hoodie like it's a horse's reins, points to the 7-Eleven sign glowing faintly in the distance. "Onward!"

Marv whinnies realistically enough for Robin to guffaw, and then they're off, their shoes clomping against the pavement and they howling with laughter. Still by the bar, Eddie and Steve share a giggle before following suit at a slower pace.

"Ah, youngsters," Eddie says dreamily.

Steve knocks their shoulders together. "You're not that much older."

"Well… Gareth's turning 21 and I'm 25, so a bit?"

"I'm also the oldest in my friend group." Steve shrugs. "It happens."

Gravel crunch beneath their soles. The air is cool and the sky is yellow with light pollution. Indianapolis is alive and full of noise, but their bubble has space for only them to walk side by side, close enough to touch but not doing so. They have an approximate ten-minute walk until they reach the convenience store. Unless the others return to them, that's ten minutes alone.

Eddie must use them wisely.

"So… how long have you been a paramedic?"

"Oh, um." Steve scratches his neck. "It's been almost four years. I'd actually been certified for less than a year when I got asked to be in that calendar. Not even a year in and I'm supposed to represent paramedics as a whole." He chuckles, mumbling, "That was fun."

"Did you make anything from it?"

"No. Every cent went to charity. Can't remember the name of it, but they provide vaccines to children in developing countries. Measles, polio, hepatitis, tetanus. That sort of stuff."

"Is this your childhood dream then?"

"Nah. I didn't want to be anything when I was a kid. When teachers asked what we wanted to be when we grew up I just said I wanted to be like my dad. He's the CEO of a huge electronics company. Mom is a socialite and philanthropist. They wanted me to inherit the company, but I…" Steve pulls a sigh from deep in his chest, throwing his head back to watch the starless sky. "I was a meathead jock. More interested in being keg king than keeping up my grades. Only reason I graduated on time was Nancy – we used to date. She's a study-beast. Makes great flashcards. Anyway, there's no way I'd ever get into a university good enough for my parents. I wasn't interested in the business degree dad wanted for me; I didn't even bother applying for college. It felt like a waste of time."

Eddie whistles, drawn out and low. "Bet they were thrilled when they found out."

Steve laughs humorlessly. "Yeah. Dad forced me to work this shitty retail job because of it." He halts, drawing himself up and pulling his mouth down. Giving Eddie the most disdainful look he's received, he says in a voice too pompous to be his own, "'If you don't follow the path to the top I laid out for you you'll end up here, at the bottom'." He rolls his eyes, himself again. "That's what he was saying. It backfired on him, because that's where I met Robin. Spent six months on that job, being a fucking aimless disappointment, and then…"

"Then?" Eddie asks, and now it's him desperately grasping at the thread. He needs to know. Anything Steve is willing to give, Eddie will accept.

Steve chews the inside of his cheek. Head hanging, hair falling into his face and glasses sliding down his nose, he resembles a model from an art student's angst-ridden project. Or maybe a movie star in an independent art house film. He just looks like art, okay? Beautiful and out of reach, which only makes you want to touch him more.

"It's kinda private," he says. "For Robin, I mean. The point is it opened my eyes to emergency services. I knew that was something I'd like to do. With some encouragement from her… I did it." He smiles at Eddie like they're sharing secrets. "Turns out studying is more fun when you're interested in the curriculum. My parents disowned me, but it's worth it. I'm as far away from being him as I can come."

He slows his steps then, face sobering before he barks a shocked laugh. The apples of his cheeks are pink.

"Fuck, that just flew out! I'm not usually like this; it's Robin who can't put a cork in it." He laughs again, softer, and levels Eddie with a gaze that borders on adoring. "You're easy to talk to."

Eddie nods. His lungs are burning, he must gasp for breath before speaking. "It's a finely honed skill…"

He swallows, licking his lips. Anything Steve is willing to give, he wants to give back. To take and give. To know and to be known.

He chokes out, "I almost turned into my dad."

"Yeah?" Steve says casually, unaware of the knife Eddie just plunged into his own chest and cut himself open with. "What's he?"

"Prison."

"What?"

Eddie nods breezily. He puts his trembling hands into his jacket pockets. "Petty stuff, but it stacks up. He taught me a few things, though, so if you ever need to hotwire your car or pick a lock… I'm your guy!"

He pulls out his hands to point at himself with both thumbs before shoving them back in. His voice is shriller, and his body's getting the jitters. Can't be still, can't shut up, and now Steve is eyeing him with… sadness? Not disgust, at least, or mistrust.

"But you're a mechanic now, right?" Steve says.

"Yeah. Learned it from my uncle – he took me in after the ol' sperm donor got caught. Greatest man I know, my uncle. I was a crap student," Eddie says, because why not. What's this after divulging about his dad? Nothing! Might as well disclose his aptitude for crime and philistinism. "Completely aimless. Still am. Redid senior year twice."

"Shit."

Grimacing with empathy, Steve sidles up until their elbows brush. A smidgen of tension leaves Eddie as he leans into Steve's warmth.

"Uh-huh. My peers started looking at colleges and all I thought was 'death before higher education!' So, I used my savings to move to Indy and got a job at a garage. It's not what I strictly want, but it pays the bills. Keeps me housed."

"What do you want?" Steve asks, like he wants to know and not just to be polite.

Eddie balloons his cheeks and puffs out the air. "I don't know. I'm passionate about music, but mostly as a hobby. Doing it professionally seems like it sucks. It's all I got, though. That and D&D."

"That's okay." Steve throws an arm around Eddie, and then they're flush. Ribs to ribs. Not an inch separating them. Close enough for Steve's skin to vibrate with Eddie's heartbeat. "You have time to figure it out. And being a mechanic in the meantime is great."

"It-It's not as meaningful as saving lives…" Eddie says, shaking his hair forth so it curtains his face.

Steve hooks the curls around his finger and tucks them back behind Eddie's ear. Holy shit. If Eddie hadn't been clinging to Steve, his jelly-legs would've collapsed and made him eat asphalt.

Steve's gorgeous grin still sends him stumbling a step.

"Sure it is. I bet you've saved someone." Steve leans in, breath ghosting across Eddie's cheekbone as he murmurs, "You'd save me. I know how to change tires and check the oil, but if it's something else? I'm screwed."

Eddie turns his head; their noses nearly bump. Steve's gaze flicks from his eyes to his mouth, indecisive. It chooses his mouth when he pokes his tongue out and drags it over his lips.

"Don't worry, big boy," he says, voice gravelly from use and their proximity. "If you're ever in trouble, just come to me and I'll take care of your engine."

Steve's breath hitches; he flinches back. For a moment Eddie's sure he went too far. But then Steve giggles like a schoolgirl. He ducks his head, face flaming red.

"Cool," he says weakly. "If you ever… heh, I was going to say 'if you ever need the kiss of life, come to me', but… don't." He's leveled himself with Eddie again and is looking at him sternly, though the effect is somewhat ruined by the humor glittering behind his glasses. "Don't ever get fatally injured. Okay?"

Eddie runs a hand down Steve's back, feels him shiver, and looks at him from beneath his lashes. "I make no promises."

A minute later they're caught up with their friends, who are very kind not to comment on how they're plastered to each other.

They buy their food – subs, nachos, chips, cookies, and juice, Steve paying for Robin's after she begs – and wander back to the parking lot by the bar. As a group, so no more clingy cuddling. Just as well, because Eddie's hot enough to erupt if touched again.

Steve didn't get the memo, though, because when they're saying goodnight and about to climb into their respective cars, he pulls Eddie into a hug. A real hug. Two-armed, chest-to-chest, sniffing-the-other-person's-hair kind of hug.

"S'been fun tonight," he says, squeezing Eddie tightly. "This is gonna sound sappy, but I'm glad we ran into each other again."

Ran into each other again.

Ran into each other.

It's a barrel of ice water over Eddie's head. His whole body constricts, shoulders hiking to his ears, jaw clenching. Because they've never actually done that, have they? They ran into each other once, but never again. Every single one of their meetings since has been orchestrated. Made to happen to satisfy Eddie’s obsessive crush. And Steve has no idea.

He doesn't know Eddie is a capital-letters-only FREAK. He doesn't know Eddie gets his rocks off to charity calendars. Fuck, he doesn't know about the calendar.

He has to know. If there's anything Eddie has learned from his millions of failed relationships, it's that there are things you have to know, and this is one of them. Because what'll happen if Steve finds out years from now from someone who isn't Eddie? A shit show, that's what!

Eddie wants for it to be a 'years from now'. He wants to feel Steve's hugs and see his eyes behind thin wire glasses. He wants to smell Steve's shampoo and hear his voice go soft as it says the names of the people he loves.

He wants to take and to give. To know and be known.

Steve has to know.

But how will Eddie tell him?

------------------------------

Part 6

Steve's glasses are a result of @pemsha's lovely fanart. If you haven't seen it yet you can do so here.

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction

[attyattlaw]

cross posting yesterday's rambling thread for posterity and because tumblr lets me edit things. anyway this is a sorta long thing and i might add things i forgot to mention in the twt thread

i tend to draw on-model canon because im a coward + just personal preferences. but the way i convert the canon designs into my artstyle is that i take the distinct features oda gives them and then combine it with personal headcanons to complete what should look like a unique human. Starting with Trafalgar Law, who is unfortunately a bland-ass conventionally pretty boy

someone commented a while ago the law hat drawing tutorial i made a while ago didn't make much sense and i realize its bc of the specific way i draw law's face: heart shaped (ba-dum-tss). That meaning, a narrow chin widening into a mild defined jaw, wide cheekbones, and up to his know-it-all brain dome.

given that, the pudgy guitar pick shape of his head i mentioned here should make a lot more sense.

i don't think this design point is unique to me, as most conventional pretty anime boy gets given jaws like this. a lot of law artists tend to veer into this head shape. just how life be sometimes. other points: flat, thick eyebrows is bc im a hairy gal and i need to feel better about myself.

Killer gets to be more interesting, because he shouldn't be considered conventionally attractive. my idea behind killer's is that those individual features is smth he would be insecure with enough to hide himself in a helmet but i draw him with all the love in the world actually. i'd like to think its how kid sees him or yknow, law, bc he's my kin assigned blorbo and maybe you ship lawkill as a guilty pleasure too i mentioned before (and ruined people's days) when i said whenever i draw killer he looks like griffith before i put on his goatee. the upper half of his face is distinctly feminine, with the lower half kinda over compensating. other than that uhh...idk. stan killer

Kidd is the bane of my existence, i feel like i can never draw his face consistently. yet at the same time he's so damn fun to draw everyone gotta try it.

my problem with kidd is that this mf does have eyelids. most kidd painters out there interpret this as him having deep set eyes (think Matt Smith or jeffrey star) . and yeh skill issue on me i should practice that. other notes, i try to make him younger than canon makes him look. he is my babygirl and he deserves to look cuddly. my band au kidd version has the honor of being allowed some chubs. he's just tries to look older and more menacing with edgy makeup. also i try to give him dimples when i can because, well i can.

Rosinante last bc i lost steam after kidd. the thing abt cora is that aside from not having eyebrows, everything is structured with the generic one piece man template. which means i gotta do everything myself doffy is there bc the way to figure out how to draw these two is to give them minor differences from each other, that being doffy gets slightly sharper features. in canon, these two are also rly wide boys (more of an oda style feat tbh) but i make them long. though bigger brained donquixote artists know that of these two brothers, doffy should be the wiry-er built. anyway that's it. in conclusion, i need to draw more girls actually i feel like im becoming misogynistic by osmosis from oda's style and now i draw girls all looking the same too.

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[sirensea14]

Do you have any headcanons of Kickinchicken?

i only have a few hc of him lolololololllll

Bigger bodies:

Kickin' breathes Ylang ylang gas like how Catnap does to the Red Smoke

Ylang ylang gas is colored creamy yellow. It can also make anyone within the vicinity to fall asleep. And like Catnap, he can control the dream you are having

His gas can boost confidence (bigger bodies) and his plush is ideal for timid children (toy)

Despite the cramped up spaces,Kickin's bigger bodies can fly, although low range like a real life chicken/rooster

When he roars, he can emit the caw sounds of an aggressive rooster, mixed with deep growling

Like Catnap and Dogday, he can speak. I imagine his voice to be the raspy and a little static version of a young man's voice. His voice is a little high pitched compared to Catnap's and Dogday's voices. Also, before the hour of joy, his voice box was in perfect condition (unlike CatNap's whose voice box is broken before and after the massacre) And now his voice, although has a little static, is still functional and can speak steadily. (If only he was alive in the game😞)

He lurks around the caverns area

His jumpscare would be jumping on you with his talons pointed at you, his wings wide and his caw deafening your ears. Kind of like how birds of prey hunt and pin down their food

He is the only smiling critter who can walk on two. I know Catnap can stand on two legs but he's mostly on four. So KC is the only one who walks and run on two. Tho he can also walk on 4 if he's crawling or crouching

Cartoon:

He LOVES to comb his feather crown and owns various shades

Kickin chicken may be shown in the cartoons to eat bugs occasionally, which the others will be weirded out. Pickypiggy smiles and gives him a thumbs up, attempting to support him whilst smiling awkwardly and sweating bullets. Kickin offered her to eat but she immediately shook her head 😆 he eats with pride✨

Other than that, he likes any pastry food and leafy greens, ice cream and wafers

He can sing and play the guitar. He likes to listen to pop music

After doing activities cool kids do, he likes to rest on hammocks, specifically the ones made in rattan and net

He cried watching the Titanic movie or any tragic romance in general

He's a gentleman who can cry because of movies💅

He often takes random selfies and pictures with the smiling critters. He posts it on Playin'stagram (instagram)

He likes to be a model for Craftycorn whenever she's drawing, and for bobby bearhug whenever she needs a fashion assistant

He joins in to the girls' make up sessions, sometimes dragging catnap, bubba and dogday in whenever the girls hunt for make-up models

He's optimistic and refuses to let the negative things keep him down, he can also be stubborn at times and doesnt think about the consequences (which causes him trouble)

He's the loud, supportive type of friend, shouting shit like "You can do it!!" Watch out for aggressive positivity XD (the difference between him and dogday's attitude is that dogday is a more gentler version of his positivity, but can also as get loud and supportive as kickin is) He's also the type to not read the room and sometimes shout supportive words in the wrong time (for comedic purpose lol)

He likes comics, manga, anime and animated shows

Welp, i think thats all i could say lmao

[yuri-is-online]

i’ve got this picture of Yutu being kind of artsy from your description. besides, being an outcast probably means a lot of solo hobbies from no friends. maybe a bonding method for Yutus with a father that is more artistic 👉👈

You have such a good point about being an outcast driving people towards solo hobbies σ(￣、￣=) certain Yutus are more outgoing than others but that does only get you so far.  Of the ones I have written about, Floyd! and Cater! Yutu both had friend circles before coming to Twisted Wonderland, while Ace!, Azul!, and Riddle! Yutu were certifiably friendless.  Bonding between Yutu and a more artistic dad hmmmmm let's see...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of my fyuuture kid au, you can find an explanation of it here and here, or look at my masterlist for all of the posts.

Vil! Yutu

... really likes to paint and draw, when I first wrote about him his unique magic involved temporarily bringing his paintings to life.  My brother used to dig through old fashion mags when he was teaching himself to draw and I can see Yutu doing the same.  So when he finally gets to see a not tortured version of his father and finds out he is a model on top of being an actor?  He's so eager to learn about all of it, and Vil has got to be thrilled to share.  You know between him and his own dad Vil has got to have a nice collection of vintage designer items he's willing to let Yutu have a look at.  Yutu has drawn his dad a lot, receiving a drawing someone has made for you is already beyond flattering, but when it's from a family member?  Forget the fridge, Vil is getting this framed.  I can also see him maybe commissioning Yutu because he wants to make sure he never under sells his work.  He is a member of the Schoenheit family, he is allowed, nay required to have a great deal of pride in himself.

Cater! Yutu

... likes playing guitar and he loves playing with his dad.  He's not really interested in playing with the other pop music club members, Yutu is a bit shy around his dad's friends.  When he's stressed he likes to play a few songs and sing, something I could see working for Cater too.  While I'm talking about Cater, I don't think he'd make a bunch of magicam posts about his family, just in general.  He uses magicam as a way of maintaining his false happy facade, his want to date Vil comes at least partially from his presence on magicam, some of his real self is on display there sure but a lot of it is exaggerated and fake.  When he has something real he wants to keep it away from the rest of the world, so while his followers absolutely are told he's #taken #blessed they don't know about the details of his relationship.  At least not if it's a healthy one.

Jade! Yutu

... is someone I haven't written about before but he is also very into music, just not jazz music.  Not that he hates jazz, he's just stuck in that teenage phase of refusing to admit the things his dad likes are cool, something Jade reasonably “sniffles” about but that's not to say music isn't a bonding point for them.  He also plays bass, just an electric not an upright one, and Jade enjoys listening to Yutu play.  He's very supportive and surprisingly soft in his praise for someone who just got done listening to his kid scream out a punk rock song.  As long as Yutu is willing to do some hiking with him (which he is) then he has no real problem with what his kid likes, if anything I can see Jade enjoying their differences.  Life is boring if everyone is the same.

Rook! Yutu

I've been thinking about Rook, just as a character recently and one of those things that's been stuck in my mind is that he was very shy as a child.  To keep this from becoming just general information about Rook! Yutu, unlike his father Yutu never got over his shyness, so a lot of their bonding revolves around Rook encouraging Yutu to see the beauty in himself.  He books tickets to shows, symphonies, and ballets in advance so he can make sure Yutu knows when they are going out and can prepare himself to be seen in public.  They plan their outfits together in advance, look up information about the company and what they are going to see so they can appreciate the art just that much more.  On the day of Rook makes sure to kiss Yuu goodbye,  and promises to come home safe.  But not to worry, he always has Yutu help him pick out a bouquet of flowers to bring back for you.  (Unless you're allergic to pollen in which case he'll bring home something else.)

[meosq]

Rockstar Rocker

“ stay in the middle , like you a little !”

Summary ; One of toman’s only female companions in the gang is actually a really famous rockstar! How will our beloved Manjiro react to being friends with a famous lead singer

warnings ; fem!reader

might do a k-pop idol version (о´∀`о)

“Yo Y/N! “ Baji shouted out out as y/n left class with the guitar bag hanging on her back.

she turned her head around just a little so that Baji could see she had acknowledged his call for her.

“Yeah?”

“are you heading to the meeting? Let me come with you we can-“

“Im not heading to the meeting, thats later . I have something to do right now. Talk to you later” y/n said as she walked out of the class and headed to her so called “something”

“ugh shes so mysterious, im sick of this! what if shes a spy from another gang?! or even worse…. Shes apart of another gang?!!?” Baji thought as his reasoning became more and more irrational.

“This calls for a toman og follow party!!!” He shouted as he ran out of the class in a hurry opening his phone to call his friends and discuss a plan.

“do you really think shes apart of another gang.. really?” Mitsuya asked in a sarcastic tone as he watched Baji take small things as you leaving for other things as treason.

“Im going to agree with Takashi here, y/n hasnt done anything wrong.” Draken also chirped in , confused as to what Baji was on about.

“Okay , well that settles it! We will follow her and see if im right or wrong!!” Baji stated as he walked to follow where he saw y/n last walking.

“Wait we cant-“ said mitsuya , but it was already too late. Most of the Og gang had started to follow Baji , not out of untrusting you but to just laugh at Baji once they find out it was nothing.

They walked until they stopped at a concert venue.

“This is where i saw her walk into , this is probably her hide out-“

“Would you look at that, the Loci’s are performing right now” said Manjiro as he read the post stuck on the wall.

“You’re right, she’s probably went in to see them perform” said Chifuya as he opened the doors to the venue and made his way into the concert.

They all made their way into the concert, hearing the beats of the drum and guitars getting louder.

“If we dont find her here, can we stay to listen to the rest of the concert?” Manjiro stated as he swayed his body to the beats excited to see the concert.

As the boys went into the venue they heard a familiar voice start to sing.

“no fucking way.” Draken stated first as he looked to see the lead singer of the famous Loci’s.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Manjiro stated

“fuck off” Baji said

The lead singer they were looking at was no other that their female friend, y/n.

She was singing and strumming her bass as the crowd continued to shout her lyrics back at her.

The sweat dripping from her face reflected the studio lights as she flipped her hair back. Indulging in her lyrics, not realising her so called “secret” was out.

As the concert was coming to an end and the screaming crowd started to leave as Y/n said her thanks with her band.

“you did amazing y/n!” Leon , her drummer said to her as he wrapped his hand around her neck placing you in choke hold.

“You really did hit that high note, i got shivers dude.” Nini , her bass said in a monotone voice.

“THEY ARE RIGHT! You did amazing y/n!!!” Manjiro said as he ran up to the stage.

“thank you Mikey- wait. Mikey? What the hell are you doing here” y/n said as she took her electric guitar off in utter confusion. Staring at her gang mates who had supposedly found out about her band.

“ someone had a suspicion about you, so we followed and now we know your actually just apart of a band instead of another gang.. right “ mituya stated as he stared at Baji silently alerting y/n that he thought she was very suspicious and maybe even a traitor.

That thought alone gave her a giggling fit, as she laughed at Baji for even thinking she would betray the gang she called her second home.

“Im sorry y/n..” baji said as he looked downwards embarrassed and shameful that he even thought she would betrayed them.

“Its okay, but im shocked you even got in! The tickets have been sold out for ages!” Y/n stated as she came to realise they wouldve found out sooner or later.

“Y/n i didnt know you could play electric and sing! Thats so insanely cool.” Chifuya said as his eyes gleamed with stars as he could finally see a “famous” person in real life let alone be friends with them.

“I mean… i do have a world tour coming up. You guys should come to the Asia maybe even American part of it! Ill even pay” she said subtly flexing her fame and wealth to the boys. As their ears perked up at the thought of travelling with friends around the globe.

“YES!”

[nellis-is-best]

Do you have any nellis headcanons?

I posted some a long while back, but I could def think up some more.

Nick falls in love with Ellis first, but Ellis says I love you first

They end up having so much fun with the mundane things. Imagine a modern, non apocalypse au, and they’re grocery shopping together. Ellis is playing a version of basketball to get items into their basket while Nick just rolls his eyes and laughs at him while they share a meaningful look.

On that note, Ellis has def insisted on Nick pushing him around in a shopping cart late at night one time while they were just chilling in abandoned parking lot

They are really into camping. Though I should say its borderline glamping bc Nick is prissy about the dirt and the bugs and stuff. Imagine them cuddling up under the covers in an air mattress

Along with camping, they would definitely have vacations where they stay in a wood cabin in the winter where they cozy up by a fire and ellis plays the guitar for nick

Nick insists on ironing their clothing, he has some housewife energy ngl. Unironically wearing a little apron that ellis got him while ironing and cooking.

Nick and ellis love cooking together, even if ellis always makes a mess that nick cleans up while grumbling to himself (just so he has something to complain about) while ellis just stuffs his face

Ellis is actually really successful at casinos, nick was slightly hesitant to bring him to one at first- maybe he would see someone he knew or something but with nick helping him practice card games and ellis’ charm, he is actually pretty damn good!

Nick goes for kisses more than ellis does

Nick reads the newspaper still, with some old man glasses on while he does and ellis nearly suffocates from holding in his laughter every time.

Alright, there’s a few i just came up with, but there’s always more where that came from :)

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hobie's 'No More' Moment - Hobie Brown Headcanons

Inspired by this post by @wicked-exe - thanks again!

I had to think on this a bit and honestly I think Hobie's 'No more' moment has to do with something we've already seen but don't talk about:

Hobie Joining the Spider-Society.

Honestly, I think it would be a really hard struggle for him in the beginning.

Imagine you're a brown kid living under fascism and it's your job to fight a totalitarian government and give people an ounce of hope.

Imagine you craft a whole persona around it, wear a mask, and go out and fight everyday with the slight hope that maybe you'll change something and finally be free

Then you finally learn that not only are their other universes and other yous, but they've created a community and society together!

Only to find out that they're totalitarian too.

That even though theres dozens of universes out there, and dozens of Spider-men, there's no freedom anywhere.

It's not just London, it's not just the 70's or your universe, it every universe. It goes all the way to the top.

And even worse, the people at the top are you. Spider-people. Literally versions of you from different dimensions.

All this time you've been fighting 'the man', when in reality, the one controlling the whole timeline is one of you.

That's what Hobie went through, and that probably fucked him up a lot!!!!!!

I feel like learning about the Spider Society would've made him really hopeful - maybe he thought that they were like him - anarchists, or at least freedom fighters.

And then he learns that no - he's different. They all like cops. They all like 'the man'. They all come from free universes, and they all agree with Miguel and what he's doing.

Spider-man probably meant so much to Hobie, and then to meet people like him - only to find out they're the thing he hates most?

It's like they perverted the image for him. It made him sick.

I feel like after he learned what the Spider-Society was actually about, he just couldn't do it.

I imagine it being really really depressing for him, sadly.

The feeling of never escaping fascism, no matter what dimension you're in. Facing the threat of violence whether its the police or people that literally know your life story like the back of their hand.

How can you sleep at night knowing there's versions of you controlling things, everywhere?

It would destroy him.

Going from a freedom fighter to being ordered around by other Spider-men, going into universes and executing their will. That's not what Spider-man is to him.

The watch is the only perk.

He doesn't tell anyone how he feels. He knows better than that.

He stays low at HQ, trying to keep to himself, and take as few missions as he can. Miguel sees potential in him and finds this disappointing, but whatever.

He hates it there, anyway. The only perk Hobie sees is the watch. The watch changes everything for him.

At the very least, Hobie knows that there's other universes that are better than his. Some, WAY more high-tech than his. (Imagine him learning about ipods!)

He'd see this as a chance.

With access to futuristic technology, he can really get serious.

It's around this time he starts making his watch pro-type. He 'breaks' his first one, asking Jess for a second, and he takes the first one apart.

He starts lifting and stealing parts from every dimension he gets sent to.

It takes at most 4 months for him to crack it, but he does.

Hobie seems like the type to go AWOL.

I feel like he'd just stop.

At once point he wouldn't see the point in fighting any more cause it's just suffocating.

He hates the Spider-society, he hates his universe, and he now hates looking at his own suit.

So after he makes his first watch, I feel like he'd say 'No More', and just take off.

Ghosts London, ghosts HQ, picks a dimension and just leaves, totally untraceable.

He only needs a rucksack and his guitar.

He squats in dimensions, never staying too long, picking up momentos from each one. He has to lay real low, and it's rare but lucky when he finds a dimension with an un-enrolled Spider-person.

The search for him at HQ is quiet, but heated. Miguel doesn't want to raise heat. Having a Spider-person quit is one thing.

They've never handled a Spider-man recreating their tech. That's worrying.

The only person who can make him come back is himself.

Part guilt, part nostalgia, part culture shock - eventually Hobie goes home.

He misses London. He dislikes the future. And he hates the feeling of running away.

Eventually he comes back. London has gotten bad, worse. He has his work cut out for him, but he's fine with that.

He'd forgotten that even if he was one out of hundreds at HQ, his universe only had one Spider-man, and he couldn't quit on them.

He lays low and changes up his strategies a bit so not to make too much ruckus

But his comeback is really the surge the resistance needed to gain some huge traction.

Eventually, he remembers why he started in the first place. Things start getting a little better. He starts feeling like himself again.

After a while Jess and Miguel catch wind of his return back home. It's a good while before they reach out again, but it very much to keep an eye on him.

They tell him they 'understand it was hard to process' for him, sweep it under the rug and call it squashed.

But it's not really.

Hobie wasn't suppose to know about Miles, but then he meets Gwen, and when he learns about Miles and what HQ is up to, he starts planning.

Miles was apart of the plan to take down HQ the whole time.

He's the only real reason Hobie stuck around. He's had a plan since he started.

I love Hobie Angst. I love it so much!!!! His universe and the trauma with that I love it!! I feel like just looking at who he as a character - he's really resilient. He was the first one there, by himself, a 16-17 year old coming from a fascist society, learning about the universe and HQ and how fragile it all is. And still choosing to fight!!!! He's so punk!

[ineedtopost]

Paolo stories and rumors and their sources

Ok, so in the last 23 days i've been talking to @nate-acmilan a lot and he really likes having sources for everything I tell him about Maldini. This has led me to two things, one, that others most likely want the sources to these stories, and two, I have found many sources for these things because of it. Also i've found a lot of random things too:

Rumors (Fully sourced)

So the first story I have a source for is Maradona saying that Paolo is too pretty to play football, which i'm pretty sure everyone has heard at some point. So basically I had another source for this, which is this one: https://arcobaleno2006.wordpress.com/2005/02/23/made-in-milan/

But then just before I posted this Nate sent a better one which is funnier and from a few years before: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/988261.stm

2. Ok so this one isn't really a rumor or story but basically I am just going to assume everybody is curious about a source for Paolo liking coca-cola, so besides the pictures with him always having it I also have a source, which is just the magazine I got, because the others are taking super long to get here:

Though, there was another source for this but I don't remember, but it was among the ones for this list anyway. But his liking of cola is mentioned sometimes at random when people talk about him.

3. I think that everybody has different interpretations of what happened at his first training session, but what I originally heard was that Cesare just left him there and came back later, which is true. Also, he wasn't there for Paolo's debut match either, though to be fair it wasn't known it was going to be his debut. This source has both of those:

4. I don't know if this is known a lot or not but Paolo didn't graduate high school, he only got up to a middle school diploma. But I knew this, and of course was asked for a source, so here it is:

5. Also, I don't know if everyone has heard of this but I'm assuming some of you have, and it's Paolo liking Silence of the Lambs. Some sources say it's his favorite, some not, but I think this is where that idea originally comes from:

Semi-Sourced

For this section I have one thing so I won't be numbering it, but basically I have heard that Armani wanted Paolo to Model for him, at some point in the 90's. And I always thought that this took place in the late 90's, but actually it was apparently in 1994 when he said this, according to this:

However I have nothing else to go off of for this, so it's still semi-true because I haven't seen a direct quote from Armani.

Tid-Bits

Ok, so this section is just random things I found in my research and one of them is that, at least back in the day, Paolo walked on his tippytoes when he wasn't wearing shoes. It comes from a book where the author interviewed Paolo himself, and Adriana and Billy and Cesare and Ambrosini and Ancelotti etc., so I believe it to be true:

You can just download it from there for free. That in particular is on page 177-178.

2. This is something else that comes from that book, which is that as a kid his mom made him do gymnastics and guitar. This is from page 25.

3. Last, I know that Paolo used to have a website but I don't think any of us have actually seen it. But I found an archived version of it recently:

Ok so that's it. I don't know if there is anything else I forgot, but obviously if you want to ask about any stories or rumors do it because I might have sources for that as well. And no, @kvaradonaa, I still have not found the source for Paolo and Sheva sleeping in the same bed, which I know is devastating but I haven't seen anything about it since that one time. So yeah, but I also did this because no gatekeeping and also because those new magazines are taking forever to get here and I am bored.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! How are you??? I'm sorry in advance, I'm still figuring out how tumblr works.

There's a post by @undobutton that talks about an au where Hobie is a street musician. I think something Christmas themed would be really cute if you're interested in writing your own version. Totally up to you!

<3

I couldn't find their original post, special thanks to @undobutton, street musician au is credited to them. Thank you for requesting, lovely! Have a happy holidays 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader (except for their jacket), cw food mentions, some awkward flirting, Lovestruck! Hobie, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

When Hobie volunteered for F.E.A.S.T he never thought he'd be freezing his balls off in the middle of a busy intersection. The Santa coat he's wearing doesn't help much with the biting cold, good thing they let him wear his leather jacket underneath the red fluffy coat.

To his dismay, the red bucket to his side has stayed half empty since his shift.

The only consolation to the cold is you. Like clockwork, you come sauntering out of the busy crowd during the rush hour, your smile a beacon of warmth from the chill. You don't know him nor he knows you, but you always come to him with a greeting, always bearing gifts of hot cocoa, soup or a pastry to warm his senses. It's not just the treats you give him but also the welcome conversation. It started off with a polite ‘hello’ and ‘thank you for doing this’ and then you exchanged names, before he knew it, you two were chatting away like old friends. Now you're not strangers anymore, there's a blooming friendship that could be more if you two manage to thaw out the cold awkwardness of conversing in a public space.

The snow nips at his fingertips as he strums the familiar Christmas tune for the umpteenth time on his well loved guitar since he volunteered last week. Hobie kept repeating to himself throughout the jingle ‘for the kids, I'm doin’ this for the kids’ he huffs, puffs of clouds escaping as a wave of pedestrians passes him by without donating.

As if you've sensed his emotions, you come walking out from the subway, your fluffy red coat almost matching Hobie's, and a stark contrast to the rushing crowd's greys and white. The people seem to part just for you, like the sea making way for you to cross. Or maybe that's what he's seeing as your straight face turns into a grin as you spot him in his usual place.

“Hi, Hobie” you're suddenly right in front of him, Hobie suddenly feels warmer. Peeking down at his bucket of donations, you wince. “Not a good day?”

He shakes himself awake. “Better now that you're here”

“Where in the world do you get your charm in this weather?” you feel warm, your hands are suddenly sweaty under your gloves.

“It just comes naturally.” He shrugs, his smirk turning you into mashed potato. “Nice jacket”

You laugh, a better sound than the loud honking of traffic he's been attacked with throughout his shift.

“Yeah, well it's almost Christmas so I gotta stay festive, you know” you lift your arms to the side a little bit awkwardly. After mentally facepalming yourself, you take your wallet out to take a crisp bill to put in the donation bucket.

“Thank you, F.E.A.S.T appreciates your donation” Hobie does his practice script, but for you there's more heart put into it.

“Also, I wanted to dress up like my new favourite person” you say a little quieter, bouncing on the balls of your feet nervously.

“Santa’s your favourite bloke?” Hobie looks like he's questioning your taste.

You blink before you let out the most glorious sound he's heard all day. “Yeah, Santa’s my favourite guy” you say sarcastically, “I mean just look at him and his magnificent white beard” laughing, Hobie’s eyes widened.

You're flirting with him, shit, he thought, wanting to punch himself for his stupid reply. Composing himself with a clear of his throat, hiding it behind a chuckle, Hobie puts his charisma to work.

“Well, Your new favourite bloke has a present for you”

“What is it?” Your face hurts from smiling too much, yet it doesn't waver.

“As our biggest benefactor, you get to spend a day with Santa himself at Feast” Maybe that wasn't his best work, but can you blame him when you're looking at him like a child during Christmas morning? He puts all the blame on the cold for making his brain all foggy.

“Only if you want to that is” Hobie tries to save himself the embarrassment.

His awkward way of asking you out made you all the more fancy him, you're a goner. “I would love to, Hobie” you're sweating under all your layers.

He feels like his chest was caving in and your answer was the only thing that could hold it up. Hobie beams, a little too excited to exchange numbers with you.

In truth, you know there isn't some prize for the biggest donation, you weren't even close to the largest benefactor. Maybe that'll be a nice ice breaker for you when you finally go on a date with Santa.

[corroded-hellfire]

Requested - Eddie and best friend reader who also plays the guitar - Eddie Munson x Reader

So, I had a request and when I went to save it to drafts, it completely disappeared on me. Can’t find it anywhere. So, I will paraphrase the request the best I can remember: Eddie with best friend reader who also plays the guitar. She thinks her crush is unrequited (it isn’t) and Eddie catches her performing a sad song and Eddie worries what’s wrong. If this was your request, I am so sorry tumblr ate it on me.

Note: the song I used for this is Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police because the lyrics are perfect for unrequited love. But I felt the song was too fast for the vibe the reader has going at that moment. But I found a cover version that was exactly what I was imagining. Since tumblr is dumb and won’t show posts in the tags if you have a link, I’ll add the link to the song on a reblog if you want to take a listen!

Words: 2.6k

Most days Corroded Coffin rehearsals were the highlight of your day. Laughing with the guys, messing around on the guitar, or the joy of finally getting a song down just right. Being the backing guitarist was your ideal part of the band. Eddie got to be the leading man, using all his natural charm and showmanship to win over the crowd, but you still got to have sick guitar solos that got thunderous applause. But there are some days when being in the band gets to you.

The band’s repertoire is pretty big, so it gives you guys a nice mixture of original songs and covers to put together when making a set list. Many of the songs are love songs though, and sometimes your heart turns cynical and the lyrics seem to mock you. Especially hearing Eddie sing them. It seemed like a cruel trick of fate to stand beside Eddie, strumming along, while he sings about falling in love or the woman of his dreams. Usually, you’d try to slip in a real headbanger after love songs in the set list. This way you could take out any lingering negative emotions out on your guitar strings.

It’s even worse when Gareth gets his first serious girlfriend. It’s like his head is full of rainbows and sunshine, all he wants to play are love songs. Yeah, you’ve gotten to know Ash and she’s great, but playing every single song in a show for her seems a bit much. It grates especially hard on your nerves one night as Eddie sings lovesick song after lovesick song.

You’re especially quiet packing up after the show, and you’re not sure if it’s that no one seems to notice, or nobody else can get a word in because Gareth won’t shut up. Ash did look pretty tonight, but there were only so many times you could hear about it before you wanted to shove the drumsticks in your ears.

You slide your guitar case into the back of Eddie’s van, slamming the door as hard as you can afterwards just so the bang can drown out Gareth’s voice for a brief moment. Walking in between the van and Jeff’s truck, you slip into the passenger seat of the van without the boys noticing. Kicking your boots off, you tuck your legs up and rest your feet against the dashboard. You drop your head back against the seat with a sigh, waiting in the cold vehicle for Eddie to climb in. He does, after a few chilly moments. Before even putting the key in the ignition, he tugs off his vest and tosses it in your lap.

“You look cold.”

“Thanks,” you mumble and slip the vest on over your jacket.

The power comes on in the van, heat brimming to life, but the radio also starts blaring a love song, which you immediately lean forward to slam off.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you. “You good?”

“Fine,” you say as you turn to look out the window.

Eddie shakes his head, not believing you, but doesn’t push it. He backs the van out of the parking space and pulls out onto the road. It’s silent without the radio on, but Eddie isn’t about to turn it back on with the way you took your anger out on the dial.

“Do you not like Ash?” Eddie asks.

“What?” You turn your head to look at him in confusion.

“Is that what’s up?” He glances over at you before looking back at the road. “Is she bugging you?”

“What? No.” You shake your head and look back out the window.

Eddie sighs and drums his fingers against the steering wheel. He tries not to be pushy, but he doesn’t like seeing you unhappy.

“Want to put a tape on?” he asks. “You can pick.”

“No,” you answer. “No music.”

Now Eddie knows something is up. He has no time to question you on it though as he pulls into Forest Hills. Both his and your trailers have no lights on inside as he pulls up in between them.

“Want to come over?” Eddie asks as he kills the ignition.

“Nah, I’ve got a headache. I think I’m just going to head to bed,” you say. You slip your boots back on and hop out of the car without looking at him.

He watches you for a moment before climbing out after you and pulling the back doors open. Each of you pull your guitar cases out silently. You give him a tight lipped smile as you walk past him to head to your front door. His eyes follow you the whole way, not moving before he sees the door close behind you.

Once you close the door, you lean back against it and let out a deep breath. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that all the love songs are getting to you, so you feel a bit bad about being so cold to him. But your own self preservation was keeping him at arm’s length. You drag your guitar case through your dark home and set it down on your bed. The lamp you click on gives a halo-like glow around the small room as you unclip the latches on the case. You gently pick up your powder blue beauty by the neck and cradle it against your body. Taking a few steps backward, you let your back meet the wall and slowly slide down until you’re sitting on the floor.

Laying the guitar across your lap, you reach into your back pocket and slip out one of the spare picks you always keep there. Your baby is already tuned since you've played a show, so you immediately begin to strum at the strings without thinking about it. A familiar tune comes out and you start to softly sing along.

Though I've tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her in my heart

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

The front door to your trailer sticks, but over the sound of your song, you can’t hear Eddie open it and slip inside. Even though your home is dark, Eddie’s been inside enough times to know his way around blind. He can see the dim light coming from your room and heads down the hallway.

Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me that ends up getting wet

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

Eddie stops a few feet in front of your door as he recognizes the song. He’s heard you sing countless times before, but never with that sad, hopeless tone in your voice. Frowning, he leans forward to try and get a glimpse of you. From your place on the floor, you can’t see Eddie in your doorway, but he can see your profile as your fingers glide over the chords.

I resolved to call her up a thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way

But my silent fears have gripped me long before I reach the phone

Long before my tongue has tripped me, must I always be alone?

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on

Tears start to well in your eyes despite yourself. Hands busy, you can’t wipe any away before they start to leak down your cheeks. The more you think of Eddie, the more the tears come. Your chest tightens as your heartbreak manifests into physical pain.

Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Every little thing, every little thing

Every little thing, every little thing

Every little, every little, every little

Every little thing she does

Every little thing she does

Every little thing she does

Every little thing she does

Thing she does is magic

Ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh

Ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh

Ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh

Ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh, ee-oh

Eddie wracks his brain, trying to figure out who could’ve caused you the pain to sing this song. Maybe he was right after all, and you didn’t like Ash because you were jealous. That didn’t make sense though, as you’ve mused aloud many times before how you would kill Gareth if the two of you were left alone for too long. Names of guys at school scroll through Eddie’s mind, seeing if any spark a memory or reason that would lead you to being so sad. And if you did have a crush on someone, why had you kept it from him?

Every little thing

Every little thing

Every little thing she do is

Magic, magic, magic

Magic, magic, magic

Hey, oh, yo, oh

Ee-oh

Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me that ends up getting wet

Hand falling to your lap after the last strum, you let the pick fall to your carpet and take a deep breath. You gently set your guitar down across your knees and wipe the tears from your face.

“Hey,” Eddie says as he slips into your room.

His presence startles you, and you jump, grabbing your guitar before it can fly off your lap.

“W-What’re you doing here?” You make sure all the tears are gone before you turn your head to look at him.

“I came to get my vest,” he says. You both know full well that could’ve waited until tomorrow so he adds, “and I was worried about you.”

“I told you I’m fine,” you say.

“Clearly you’re not,” Eddie says, gesturing to your red eyes and the guitar in your lap. “Why such a sad song?”

You offer your guitar to Eddie, and when he takes it, you push yourself off the floor. He hands it back to you so you can put it back in the case.

“I just felt like playing it,” you say.

Eddie’s brow pinches together. “Right. Because you always just decide to play songs by The Police.”

You sigh as you shut and lock your guitar case. The case gets returned to its sacred spot underneath your bed before you climb on your mattress and pull your pillow into your lap.

“Just a little teenage angst, I suppose,” you tell him.

Eddie sits down across from you and reaches for your hand. You pretend you don’t see it and tuck your hands under your thighs.

“Talk to me?” Eddie asks in a soft voice.

You shake your head and it breaks his heart. He sighs and scoots closer to you.

“Sweetheart, please. Since when is there something you can’t talk to me about?”

The tears start to well up again and Eddie fights the urge to wrap you up in his arms. You sniffle and look down to your lap.

“I don’t like how we do so many love songs,” you admit shyly.

Eddie tilts your chin up with his fingers and you meet his concerned eyes. Tears start to fall down the right side of your face and he brushes them away with his thumb.

“Why’s that?” he asks.

“Too many,” you whisper.

Eddie nods and reaches out to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You rest your head against him and he presses a kiss into your hair.

“Okay,” he says. “We can tone it down.”

“Thanks.”

“Better?” he asks as he rubs his hand up and down your back. You nod and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“M’sorry,” you whisper against his throat. The sensation of your breath over his skin sends a chill down Eddie’s spine.

“For what?” he asks.

“Worrying you. I didn’t mean to.”

“S’just cause I care,” he says.

His words cause fresh tears to fall from your eyes and Eddie looks down at you in concern. You wrap your arms around his neck and your tears run down his skin, onto his shirt. His arms instantly encircle you and he pulls you against his body.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he tries to soothe. “I’ve got you.”

Each reassurance only makes you cry harder, his kind words reminding you that his affection for you isn’t the same that you have towards him. Your heart feels like it’s bleeding down into your stomach as you clutch at him, hands desperate to touch him anywhere you could reach.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers against your hair. “Talk to me, princess.”

You pull your head out from his neck and shake your head, face all red and puffy from the crying.

“Who do I have to beat up, hmm?” he tries to joke. Anything to calm you down and make you feel better. “Say the word and I’ll kick their ass.”

“I love you.”

The words rush out without you thinking about it. Luckily, or unluckily, Eddie understands what you say through your tears.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and you shake it off, harder than you intended to.

“No,” you say. You take a deep breath and use your sleeves to wipe all the tears from your face. “I love you. I want to stop doing so many love songs because it hurts to hear you sing them. It hurts because you’ll never sing those songs about me and I hate it.”

Realization dawns on Eddie’s face and he stares at you with wide eyes. His jaw drops and for the first time in his life, he can’t put words together to form a sentence.

“Me?” His voice comes out squeaky. He clears his throat and runs a hand over his face. “You’re telling me you’ve been sitting here crying over me?”

Still sniffling, you nod your head, unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He lets out a small chuckle and your head snaps up to look at him. You were prepared for him not to return your feelings, but you never expected him to make fun of you or be mean about it.

“Honey, no,” he says, seeing your alarm. He picks up one of your hands in his and presses kisses to your palm. “I just can’t believe it. Princess, I love you too.”

“You what?” You’re breathless as you look at him, not believing your ears.

“I love you, too,” he says with a laugh. “I think of you every time I sing one of those love songs. It’s why I’ve suggested so many of them.”

“You love me?” you ask, still not believing it.

“With all my heart,” he assures you. He reaches out to you to pull you into his lap, and you happily oblige. You straddle his hips and wrap your arms around his neck.

“For real?”

“For real.” He chuckles and rests his forehead against yours. “So, no more sad songs, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree. “And I guess we can keep playing lots of love songs.”

“Good,” Eddie says. “Cause I’ve written about seven of them all about you.”

[ineffableigh]

Further Parallels between Elspeth/Crowley and Morag/Aziraphale (respectively)

Alright fellow brainrot sufferers. I want to talk more about music today. And this one's a doozy - though I'm SURE it's been talked about already. Probably. But here we go anyway!

I started trying to listen for recurring musical themes, leitmotifs, that kind of thing, and noticed TWO recurring themes from The Resurrectionists episode that return at the end of episode 6, bookending the Final Fifteen.

A lullaby theme: We first hear it when Crowley and Aziraphale meet Wee Morag, very subtly in the background. I want to focus on the scene we next hear it - Wee Morag's death. I'll get to why afterward.

This theme returns at the end of S02 E06 when Crowley is tidying up the bookshop during The Chinwag. It's not exactly the same, but you can really hear it calling back to the above theme. I feel it's very deliberately drawing a parallel between Aziraphale/Morag and Crowley/Elspeth.

I wasn't sold on this connection until I noticed the cello is the leading voice in both cases - the cello seems to consistently be Crowley's instrument, when he's being emotionally vulnerable/honest. You get the electric guitar in scenes of bluster/passion/anger, yes, but when his guard is down, you have cello at the forefront. Conversely, Aziraphale's is the violin (see themes immediately after The Kiss, which I'll get to in another post).

In Morag's death scene, this theme transitions into a cycling melody of strings playing climbing triplets, and I knew I'd heard it somewhere before... it plays at the end of the credits for episode 6.

However, where Morag's death theme remains morose, final, and resolves immediately, with a brief callback to their lullaby theme in Elspeth's cello, the version in the credits of episode 6 have a notably greater tempo, continue to climb, and most importantly DON'T resolve at the end. The melody DOES NOT sound like it's ended. It's not over yet.

I think we're supposed to draw these parallels, to hear Aziraphale leaving for Heaven being equated with Morag's death. Morag just wanted to help Elspeth, and paid the ultimate price due to Heaven's unfairness, much like Aziraphale is likely paying a high price to keep Crowley safe.

TLDR: David Arnold is a master composer and also a monster (affectionate), there is SO MUCH HERE to analyse.

[hard-core-super-star]

Hi, may I please request Reader is Australian and is a judge on the Voice, Australia. Hailee (Steinfeld obviously), with the other judges help to surprise Reader by 'auditioning'. (Reader obviously turns her chair. They've been dating for a couple of years.)

keep on coming back for more [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x musician!reader

summary: you don't really like surprises...unless they involve a certain brunette and your favorite song.

warnings: none, just fluff; me pretending like i know what i'm talking about when i really don't; R is technically a guitar player but that's not expanded upon; like two seconds of nervous hailee

wordcount: 1k

a/n: messed around with the pov on this one again so...yeet. i also did the most scuffed research on the voice, australia so forgive me if it sucks/if things are too vague. this fic was also just an excuse for me to scream into the void about rock bottom because it's one of hailee's best songs, argue with the wall. [but not the version with dnce because...men. do i have to say anything else?] hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Hailee knows being nervous about this is ridiculous but that doesn’t stop her heart from thundering in her chest or her hands from growing clammy. Usually, those things are a sign of excitement but today, the butterflies in her stomach feel a little more uneasy than usual.

It’s been more than a few years since the last time she performed this song live and, if she’s being completely honest with herself, she’s worried about what you’ll think.

Surprises aren’t her strong suit, especially not when they involve your work but it’s been a few months since you left L.A to start working on The Voice, Australia and she hasn’t had a chance to come see you until now.

She was originally just going to visit you on set and let that be the surprise but she may have texted Rita Ora about her idea to fly to Sidney to see you and then one thing led to another and now she’s here. Minutes away from pretending to be yet another blind audition for the show.

Everyone had agreed it would be a great way to get more people to watch the show, or at the very least the clip that would be posted on YouTube later, but she didn’t care about any of that. She just cared about getting to see your smile again. 

“You’re on in five.”

The brunette nods in response, practically counting down the seconds until the two of you are finally reunited. Dramatic, sure, but also sweet in a way that makes you melt every time.

While Hailee’s getting ready for her surprise performance, you are doing your best to act like you’re paying complete attention to whatever ‘argument’ Rita and Jessica are having to convince the most recent auditioner to join their team. 

You’ve been a witness to these ‘arguments’ a couple of times since filming started but you always stay out of them. Mainly because they’re fun to watch but also because you’re technically the new kid on the block and you have some massive shoes to fill. Keith Urban-sized shoes to be specific. 

You still don’t know how you went from playing the guitar in your room to being a professional musician to being a judge on The Voice but you’re not about to complain. That doesn’t mean the job isn’t tiring but you can’t afford to look like you don’t know what you’re doing. 

The young singer ends up choosing Rita’s team and you’re given a quick break as the crew gets everything ready for the next contestant. You resist the urge to check your phone, knowing all it will do is make you miss your girlfriend. This wasn’t the first time the two of you were doing long distance but it never gets easier. 

You don’t get the chance to dwell on your thoughts too long since filming resumes. You straighten your back in the surprisingly comfortable chair and prepare yourself for the next blind audition.

A few seconds go by before you hear the beginning notes of a song you know like the back of your hand. The smile on your face gives away your growing excitement at getting to hear someone cover a song you love so much. 

You're honestly a little surprised it's taken so long for someone to audition using one of Hailee’s songs. It’s a shock but a welcome one for sure. Just because they're using one of your girlfriend’s songs doesn't mean you'll go easy on them, though. You’re easygoing but extremely picky when you want to be. And you’ll be extra picky just to honor the one you love more than anything else. 

“What are we fighting for? Seems like we do it just for fun…” 

Your eyes widen at the sound of that voice. 

For a second you think you’re imagining things but there’s no possible way you could be wrong. You could be underwater with a bag over your head and still manage to recognize your girlfriend’s voice.

“Breathe deep, bottle it up…”

You don’t waste another second in pressing the red button that allows you to turn around and see Hailee in all her glory. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of her and suddenly, everything else around you disappears. The lights, the audience, even your fellow judges, all you can see and hear is her.

Her brown eyes are trained on you and you have no doubt she’s feeling exactly what you’re feeling. The smile on her face tells you all you need to know about where her mind is. “Oh, we’re on the right side of rock bottom…”

She can’t hold herself back any longer and she takes a few long strides, walking down the stage steps and reaching your chair with a smile so bright it rivals every star you’ve ever seen. Her hand reaches out toward you and you take it without hesitation, allowing her to pull you toward her.

The moment might go viral later but neither of you is focused on anything except the other.

“You’re the best kind of bad something,” she sings, her face mere inches away from yours. “‘Cause we keep on coming back for more.”

This time, you’re the one who can’t hold back. You wait for her to pull her microphone away before you lean in and capture her lips in a kiss filled with all the love you’ve had to keep inside since you left L.A.

You have no doubt the studio probably wanted more words exchanged and overly dramatic shocked expressions but all those complaints will come later. Hell, you’ll even reshoot the whole thing if it means getting to spend time with Hailee on set. But all of that can wait until later.

“Warn a person next time,” you whisper with a grin once the two of you part for air.

“Where’s the fun in that, babe?”

You playfully roll your eyes at her, pretending to be annoyed when you’re truly overjoyed to hear her teasing remarks in person again. “You’re the worst.” 

“You love me,” she replies with a shrug.

She starts to move away but you pull her back in for another quick kiss before she can get too far.

You hear the commotion that comes with getting ready for filming to resume but you’re too busy giving Hailee all your attention to care. You’re incredibly grateful for the opportunity to be here, and you absolutely love your job, but your girlfriend will always come first.