#a musician? who? me?

[lavi394]

Behold! 'Tis I, the mysterious Bagginshield Cryptid, returned from the deep woods and here to visit you with another Bagginshield question. . . What is your favourite headcanon?

Choosing ONE favourite bagginshield headcanon is very difficult, but aside from the common ones, there is one of my own that I absolutely love.

I think that after Thorin reclaims Erebor and becomes King, and all the rebuilding and stuff like that is finished and everyone can live their lives normally, Thorin starts again to practice regularly the harp. He loves playing it, it's one of his favourite things to do when he isn't busy with meetings or paperwork. And Bilbo loves to listen to him playing. Harps are not common instruments in the Shire, so he's fascinated, but it's not just that. He loves how Thorin plays it. So he likes to listen to him practice and sometimes Thorin does tiny private exhibitions for him and eventually teaches Bilbo some music theory.

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[sergle]

this stupid fuckin youtube recommendation was specifically formulated in a lab to piss me off

"RED STATES"? YOU MEAN THE MAJORITY OF THE ENTIRE UNITED STATES???????????

[never-looked-so-good]

📷 @/ch_leclerc16_

[zevranunderstander]

number #1 tactic that people use to not sound as racist as they are when they talk to black people: 'uhh so you AMERICANS need to stop pretending everything is about YOU. why should i know this im not from the us :/' (= is talking about like. a phenomenally internationally well-known black artist)

[rocknrollflames]

Day Twenty-eight: Your Hottest Musician

30 Day Band Challenge

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

just got home from seeing miles and oh my GODDDDD. so much to unpack. SO MUCH. i’ll do a proper post tomorrow when my brain is remotely coherent again, but for now the headlines: he is (as always) absolutely fucking incredible live; i had not one but TWO super awkward run ins with him before the gig even started; i will never recover from hearing shavambacu; there was a VERY interesting moment when he was introducing “see ya when i see ya”; and, in the least creepy way possible, i may or may not now know what it’s like to be spat on by miles kane mid performance 🫠

[crimeronan]

the VAST MAJORITY of teenage girls are actually very nice and doing their best and even when they ARE mean, it's typically because of the stress of going through an incredibly transformational developmental period while having 6833487 responsibilities and no basic human rights. like now that i'm nearing 30 i have a great deal more love and understanding about this than i did as a kid, you will Never catch me dragging/demonizing teen girls for buying into harmful tiktok and instagram trends or whatever. They Are Doing Their Best .

with that said.

it WAS pretty funny going thru adolescence in the late aughts / early 10s when the most mainstream teen music was demi lovato's "who says i can't wear my converse with my dress" stuff.

because EVERY girl who was ever mean to me LOVED that "i'm a brave trendsetting individual who can Be Myself even if other people Don't Understand Me" pop music....

....while also being like "oh, that girl is CREEPY. don't you know she listens to METAL. and is UGLY. and doesn't TRY TO LOOK PRETTY. and is WEIRD. and UGLY. and SHE LISTENS TO METAL...."

[kindahoping4forever]

Ashton won the Pop Drummer Of The Year category at the 2023 Drumeo Awards! 🥰 🥁 (vid includes acceptance speech and host commentary)

[kandelia-mangrove]

Still thinking about the fact the show Armand is canonically friends with Jean Paul Satre.

[gruesome-beauty]

jb’s music has more in common with the emo/hardcore/post-hardcore music she’s influenced by than it has in common with her indie contemporaries despite the way she’s categorized and that’s why you get a lot of bg fans who say they can’t get into her music iN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

[commsroom]

making hera manage a space station is inhumane. she's supposed to be creating unmarketable art. post-canon hera makes like fifteen dollars a month off niche experimental multimedia poetry zines, eiffel is begging people to listen to his music on bandcamp (between an assortment of jobs that would be perfectly fine, if he could hold any of them for longer than two months), and they are both so, so lucky minkowski cares about them so much.

[activatebutterflyshield]

I was compelled last night and I’m quite honestly scared of whatever 11:59 PM me intended for those middle sections. At least I still know my colors when sleep deprived, and I’m sure someone else on here can fill the blank spots out better than I can on a full eight hours of shut-eye.

[keirientez]

band au rahhhhhhhhhhh

[autumnalmess]

If this gets one like I'll write enjoltaire fanfiction

[aeolianblues]

Seeing people who were openly queer in the 80s and 90s and were either ignored or ridiculed at the time getting to openly embrace their sexuality in the present day, and wrap themselves triumphantly in their flags does something else to me, I have such a soft spot for it that I could cry