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francixoxoxo · 5 months ago

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.✿° For Better, For Worse

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 𝐗 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭- 𝐡𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐓𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞, is to know them.

As you set the table, you knew they'd be returned to the drawer untouched. As you waited by the door, you knew your wasted time would be compensated by hugs, kisses, a reason, an apology. But it wouldn't be reconciled with a new dinner, a fresh evening, a timely arrival.

You didn't turn on your side as you heard the front door creak open. Billy knew better than to call out your name at such an ungodly hour, especially when he was in the business of winning back your good graces. You pulled the cotton sheets tighter around yourself, nuzzling your cheek further into the pillow as bootsteps thumped closer, light pouring into the dark bedroom. Billy placed the candle and its dish on the dresser with a soft clinking, remaining silent. Damn right, the words chimed in your mind with satisfaction, though you felt a rush of guilt for thinking it.

You could hear the soft rustle of clothes as Billy undressed, the shifting and clattering of his gun belt as he unbuckled it and slung it over a chair. His soft breath as he blew out the candle. The muted thump of his socked feet against wood as he shrugged off his shoes, the dip in the mattress as he crawled his way to your side.

No words were spoken as Billy's arms wound securely around your middle, his nose finding the crook of your neck and his lips sneaking a faint kiss to the warm skin there. He inhaled deeply your scent, before shifting a bit and pushing the bridge of his nose into the side of your neck.

He knows he's in the wrong. You know he didn't mean it. He knows he's gotta make it up to you, but you've lost tally, there isn't a point in keeping score anymore. You can feel all the regret in the way he holds you, pulls you into his chest, twines his leg twixt yours. Billy really is sorry, you know he is, but you want to hear the words.

"You're late."

"I know, baby." Billy mumbles into your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin in a sigh. His lips press over your shoulder and to your nape just barely in faint, almost-just-brush-of-the-lips kisses. "M' sorry. Really am, you know I am."

Your eyes flicker around the dark shadows of furniture in your threadbare bedroom. Not much to stare at; A mirror in the corner. A desk and chair, bills with envelopes torn set to the side, a dictionary open to a certain page front and center. A nightstand, his side, a copy of Don Quixote, an empty glass of water, a caramel for his midnight-sweet tooth. If he looked over his shoulder (if he tore himself away from you, an unlikely event) he'd see just the same. A dresser, easily fitting the few clothes the two of you possessed. A person who knew where to look might find a "stash" of baby clothes hidden under Billy's button-ups; a linen dress with minimal Chantilly lace, a swaddle you'd hand-embroidered, a little taupe hat. Hardly a stash.

Billy restlessly shifts, burrowing his face further into your neck and exhaling with a deep sort of comfort. A comfort only your warmth could provide, the temple of your body more fulfilling than any church. "I'll make it up to you."

Your hand finds his, twines both your fingers together over your belly. His wedding band is cool on your fingers. A year its been on his ring finger, the silver ring a boast-worthy statement. Billy the damn Kid settled down, that's right. William Bonney's got himself a missus, and if you point that out, he'll talk your ear off 'bout just how great she is.

Yours spoke a different tune. You'd married an man who blew in the wind, a man who's life was not promised. All he could offer was his undying devotion, his unyielding love. Even during times like this, it was hard to overlook just how dedicated his heart was to you. You murmur a soft goodnight, falling under slumber's silk curtain with the firm presence of your husband's chest against your back. There was seldom a night he didn't offer it to you, and those nights were often very adequately apologized for. They were never of his own will.

You knew he would do this again, your Billy. But as long as his arms were taut around you, even if only in the latest hours of the night, you were content. For better or for worse, you loved him more than the sea loved the moon and the wind loved the Rocky Mountains.

This is the notion you soothed yourself with.

When morning sunlight peeked through your Chantilly curtains, yellows tickling your cheek, the space beside you was unfilled. With a weary exhale you laid a hand over the mattress; still warm. Come to think of it, the house smelled like bananas. But that couldn't be-- oh, it was!

You pushed the covers off yourself and slipped out of bed, padding barefoot into the hall. As you peered 'round the corner at the entrance, the side table beside the door was adorned with a vase of fresh flowers. Why, you realized as you looked around, every surface had a bouquet! You stepped into the main room, and were delighted to see tulips brightening the small dining table. Peeking into the kitchen you found (again, flowers on the countertop, daffodils,) the recognizably broad back of a man at your stove. A plate on the right of the stove was stacked high with pancakes. a sliced but otherwise untouched banana laid on a cutting board by the pancakes.

"What's all this?" You gasp, coming to stand beside Billy. A warm smile splits his face, he moves to tuck you under his arm and nose a kiss into your hair.

"Banana pancakes!" Billy hums, his voice slightly muffled against your crown before he turns back to the skillet, "Happy anniversary, baby."

Your draw together curiously. "But that was yesterday." Your husband frowns, his chest expanding with a deep breath. He nods a bit. "I know. M' makin' it up t'you, like I said I would."

A warm feeling fills you, expanding and rolling like a sweet fog all the way to your feet, your ears, very fingertips as they find his knuckles on your shoulder. "Awh, Billy.."

Billy smiles again, like you're endearing him. He plants another kiss to your forehead as he flips the pancake. "Can't believe I missed it, never felt so stupid. I couldn't let it pass without doin' anythin'." You hum softly. You won't tell him that it was all-right, and you didn't mind, because you did mind. You did feel a bit bruised that the special day came and went without so much more than lingering kisses in the morning and groveling in the night.

"Two years s'important." Billy adds after a moment, lifting his brows. His arm around you slips away to pour more batter into the skillet, before returning to you and securing a hand around the back of your head. You coo your agreement, "It is."

"Two years s'how long my Ma n' Pa waited t'have me." Billy continues with a grin in his voice. You hum with interest, a smile of your own stretching your lips.

Your words bubble forth in a giggle, "You sayin' it's time for babies, Mr. Bonney?" It's as if the sound of your joy triggers a burst of the warm feeling in his own chest. Billy chuckles heartily.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe!” You repeat with a bright laugh, looking up at him to find he’d been looking down at you. He shrugs his shoulders with a boyish grin, stealing a peck from your lips now that he’s found the chance.

“Little somebody t’keep my woman company when I ain’t ‘round.” Billy murmurs, his smile faltering just a bit, to where one might call it softening, but you were a keen eye. His words carried a subtle guilt, a tender regret. A love that he knew was not worth your time, not for all the trouble it gave you.

He’d wrap up the stars in package paper if he could gift them to you. He’d suck all the gold from the earth with a straw if you’d appreciate its shine. Billy would rip the shirt from his own back to give it to you, though the threadbare clothing was hardly good enough for you. Not by the standard of what he believed you should have. Nothing he had to give was worth your attention nor time, Billy felt like he’d bought all these years with you by playing a sneaky trick, like he’d fooled you into a bad deal.

Little does he know you didn’t get fooled into anything. This kind of love needed no pitch, no shady salesman, only the knowledge that Billy’s heart is filled with you, and only you. Yours is just the same, you can feel picture frames of his portrait nailed to the walls of your soul, the photos only growing in pigment as your heart swelled to fit more and more.

“This is enough.” You promise. He drops a kiss to your hair, gratified. And he’s reminded just why he put that ring on your finger two years ago.

You are enough for me, your words truly say, the meaning expanding past them. No matter the distance twixt you two, be it death, the law, the gun; these memories would be enough to sustain you.

Billy shakes his head in disbelief, a snort leaving his nose. With his hand on the back of your head he pulls you closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. Your husband’s words are breathed with a reverence, an awe that shot diamonds from his eyes as they bore into yours. “I don’t know what I did t’deserve you, baby. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

#Spotify #billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney imagine #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid smut #william bonney #william h bonney #tom blyth imagines #tom blyth x reader #francescas anthology

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lazybakerart · 2 years ago

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a cute harringrove thing for you: billy being in the middle of trying to do something but he keeps shaking away bits of hair that get into his eyes and steve just comes up behind him, puts his hair into a bun, then casually goes back to where he was while billy's stunned and blushing before he returns to his task with a big grin on his face

The AC's out.

Billy's cracked the unit open with a flathead screwdriver he found under the sink and a few choice words. July hit hard. Sweat drips down his nose as he tries to fix and not kick a heavy metal box down three stories.

In the small kitchen just a few feet behind his hunched back, Steve's popping more ice out and yelling at the radio - a Dodgers game has gone to shit.

Billy swipes his sweat-stuck curls back just to have all of them tumble right back in the way again.

Summers always leave Billy regretting growing out his hair.

He hadn't meant to. A couple months without a haircut grew into a couple years where a couple of half-assed snicks with the scissors he uses for zip ties and toe nails were all he made do with. Every year he forgets how much of it there is when summer arrives to remind him.

Snapping back up, screwdriver in a vice-grip, Billy yanks his hair back with both hands and yells FUCK YOU at the stained popcorn ceiling and his own mane fried with West Hollywood humidity.

"What's wrong now? What happened?" Steve has the honest nerve to say after over an hour of this.

"I'm shaving my head."

A deep sigh and Steve's opening some cabinet that creaks and needs to be oiled - the deal when they first moved in was Billy dealt with the electric shit and Steve got everything that wouldn't have him sizzling when he got distracted.

Plumbing means rock, paper, scissors comes out and goddamnit if Billy doesn't lose every single round.

He and the plunger have built a relationship.

Billy blames dying and coming back with fried nerves and a second-rate case of stigmata making his every joint he's got stiff, his hands getting the worst of it. He'd be a lousy second coming anyways.

"That time of year again, huh?" Steve says.

He stands behind Billy, swatting away his frustrated steel-grip to comb through Billy's curls, pulling them back and away.

"There are these things - they're called hair-ties," Steve gently pulls Billy's hair through elastic, "And I know you like using rubber bands because you're a freak," Slowly he winds Billy's overgrown hair around, "But these are, like, at least twice as good. Now, we just twist," He twists, "And twist some more and - boom! Done. I'm awesome."

Steve spins Billy around by the shoulders twice, his sweaty feet squeaking on the scratched up oak floors. He holds Billy in place, sweaty hands on Billy's sweaty nape, sweaty thumbs running circles, and it doesn't seem to matter much to him that the AC is broken and they're reaching the peak 90s on the thermostat.

Steve's looking at him.

All tender.

All sweet.

A little tipsy from better beer than they chugged in high school. It's been seven years since they hit the highway and left Indiana for good. Three more months and five more days and they'll hit eight.

"Oh no." Steve croons at him. Smile turning cotton soft. Those sweaty hands move to cup Billy's face and those running thumbs rub just under Billy's eyes. "Why are we crying?"

"It's hot." Billy says.

Pinching his ears around his piercings, Steve tells him, "You're hot."

Billy sniffles. Snot drips, meets his upper lip and Steve wipes it off - eight years worth of tears and snot and blood and spunk and so much sweat.

And so much fucking good shit.

From an open window in their cramped apartment, a slice of warmed July breeze catches on the back of Billy's newly bared neck. He tosses the screwdriver somewhere.

"And," Steve pecks him on the lips, bites at his nose to make sure Billy gets heat-stroke, "You've got a great ass."

The AC can wait a little longer.

#replies #my stories #harringrove #billy hargrove #thank you so much anon for sending me this T___T #i really needed some positivity #and i miss writing prompts!!#i hope you like this #thank you again <3!!

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the-paper-apricot · 9 months ago

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Paul, Porter and "I love you"

The accepted explanation of the writing of the Wings hit 'Silly Love Songs', including that offered several times over the years by Paul McCartney himself, is that it was a riposte to criticism of his more sentimental love songs as light and insignificant.

I was getting slagged off for writing luv songs. You see, I’m looking at love not from the perspective of ‘boring old love’, I’m looking at it like when you get married and have a baby. That’s pretty strong: it’s something deeper.

Paul McCartney, from Club Sandwich N°47/48, Spring 1988 (cited here)

Although I've never seen this discussed anywhere, it's long seemed to me that there's another possible influence on the song. To my knowledge no one has ever asked Paul directly about this, so what follows remains just my headcanon. (If anyone knows something to the contrary, please let me know!)

Cole Porter, another preternaturally talented Gemini lefty.

While writing the songs destined for the musical Mexican Hayride (1944), Cole Porter was presented with a challenge by his close friend Monty Woolley. (Woolley was an American actor who you may remember in the delicious role of the Professor in the Christmassy classic film The Bishop's Wife.) Woolley reasoned that because Porter's songwriting mastery came in part from his unhackneyed, fresh lyrical ideas, he wouldn't be able to write a hit song with the simple, rather too obvious, repeated refrain of "I love you".

Monty Woolley with Cole Porter

It became a $25 wager, and Woolley also stipulated that his friend include reheated stale lines about spring and "birds on the wing". Porter duly wrote 'I Love You', which was the only standout in the show and in time topped the U.S. Hit Parade for several weeks, so he won his bet.

I would quite like to have been sort of a nineteen-twenties writer, 'cause I like that thing, you know. You know, up in top hat and tails and sort of coming on ... so, this kind of number, I like that thing. But, so this is just me doing it, and pretending I'm living in 1925.

Paul McCartney, talking about 'Honey Pie', interview with Radio Luxembourg, 1968

Melvyn Bragg: What's the longest you've ever worked over a song? 'Cause a lot of the lyrics, the more you read them, the more - and then they always read very straightforwardly and seamlessly, but when you read them again and again they're very complicated, and a lot of internal rhyming going on and a lot of extremely clever play. Does that - do you work on them quite hard? Do you go over them again and again? Paul: Well, you know I'm a fan of all that, the old-fashioned writing. You know, sort of Sammy Cahn's era, you know, Cole Porter, and I do like all that, when it comes off! I mean, I hate just silly rhymes, just, you know - but when it really comes off those are great little things in songwriting. So I was always aware of that from people like Cole Porter. So I'd always try and put something like that kinda thing in, sorta little internal rhymes, you were always going for that kinda thing. ... I can't explain it, you know, I've never been able to explain it, but it's like it comes in out of the blue. It sort of comes at you, you know, and - I'm sure the funnel that it's coming through's a lot to do with it, 'cause your little computer in here - my computer's sort of heard Billy Cotton Band Show going back there, you know and Cole Porter there, and this there and it's heard millions of influences through to Chuck Berry ...

from 'Paul McCartney: Songsmith' (The South Bank Show) January 1978

George Eells' book The Life That Late He Led: A Biography of Cole Porter was published in 1967 and remained the definitive life for about a decade. It mentions the 'I Love You' wager (p212), which became one of the better-known song origin anecdotes.

I have no idea if Paul McCartney knew this story. But I can imagine the professional challenge appealing to him, and perhaps especially tempting is the playful pairing of commercial reward with artistic defiance. 'Silly Love Songs', like 'I Love You' before it, was a big hit: Number 2 in the UK chart, and top of the Billboard chart in the States.

Did he dare himself to write a pop chorus that repeated the refrain "I love you", because Porter had done so? I dunno.* For what it's worth, I think the three melodic lines in the chorus of 'Silly Love Songs' exceed Porter's tune in both beauty and memorability.** (Although I do enjoy this sultry version recorded by Julie London.)

youtube

(*Just like I don't know if 'Why Don't We Do It In The Road' found any precedent in Porter's celebrated and racy-for-its-day song, 'Let's Do It, Let's Fall in Love'.)

(**But I mean, you'd expect me to say that, you know I've made paper dolls of him in his little Wings outfits tbf.)

#Apricot's headcanon #Silly Love Songs #Paul McCartney #Cole Porter #'I Love You'#this post brought to you by my weird varied interests

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neonponders · 2 years ago

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Part 18 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🦇

Part 17

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

“Holy shit.”

Billy chuckled around his own bite while their unfinished game of backgammon sat on the coffee table. Steve licked pot pie gravy off his fork while the littles worked on their serving of peas, carrots, and some gravy-soaked crust.

“You weren’t kidding.”

“This is yummy,” small Billy said.

“Thanks for dinnerw, Biwwy,” small Steve seconded.

“Sorry you had to wait till midnight,” he replied, dipping an edge of crust in the gravy. His eyes flicked to Steve’s head perking up, and trying to go back to eating nonchalantly. “What?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize, that’s all.”

“I didn’t realize I’d set a precedent for letting tiny people starve.”

Steve’s eyes rolled onto him. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t have anything to go off of except your free concert arguments with Max.”

“Max is free game because she’s my shithead sister.”

Steve snorted and reached for a napkin. “Whatever. They’re right, this is great, and thank you.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I’m leaving the leftovers.”

Steve froze and Billy bubbled with laughter. Steve made quick work of the lump in his cheek and haggled, “What do I have to do to keep them?”

“Beat me at backgammon, for a start.”

“What else?”

Billy lifted his head, a different smile on his face. “You like it that much?”

“I can follow a recipe, but my specialties are breakfast and improvising, which...is a fifty-fifty chance at being edible but not delicious. This is an actual home cooked meal type thing.”

“Keep talking sweet to me and I might let you keep half of it.”

Steve already had a mouthful of pie filling as he mumbled, “Deal.”

Both of their attentions moved to the littles yawning over their finished crumbs. Steve swallowed and announced, “Our score-keepers need to get to bed.”

Small Steve complained, “ ‘M not sweepy,” even as his eyelids heavily blinked over unfocused eyes.

Large Steve dug through a grocery bag for the extra small cotton swabs and summoned, “Come here.”

Billy watched with silent fascination as the smallest amount of toothpaste got applied to the swabs and Steve held them steady while the littles brushed their teeth. “B, get those back ones.”

His little body released an indignant huff and he made better work of his molars.

Steve topped off their shot glass with water and said as they rinsed, “Good job. I give you two a bath in the morning.”

“Not sweepy,” little Steve declared, but he shook his head with too much gusto and his body swayed with it.

“Then you don’t want a goodnight kiss?”

He gasped and clasped his hands over his tummy, eyes clamped shut as if that might help him stay still for Steve’s kiss atop his head. He got two for his troubles, while little Billy stood in the curve of big Steve’s hand, holding onto his fingers while lips touched his hair twice as well.

“Stevie too?” small Billy asked with heavy eyelids and warm cheeks. Steve crouched low enough for them both to kiss the flat of his cheeks beside his mouth.

Large Billy was not exempt, as three pairs of eyes locked onto him. He wiped his mouth of crumbs and waved a hand under a benign scoff. “Here we go.”

The littles reached up to hold his chin as they kissed the corners of his mouth. He made sure to hold onto little Billy’s headband as he walked away, hair floating free as the band left his skull.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Biwwy. See you tomowwow?”

“Probably. I’ve got a board game to win.”

Steve chirped, “Oh? We’re done here?”

Billy narrowed his eyes at him in a skeptical glare. “You two make sure he doesn’t change anything. ‘Kay?”

“ ‘Kay!” they echoed.

“See you tomorrow!” little Steve yelled as he ran to their shoebox room.

“G’nigh’, Stevie,” little Billy said.

“Goodnight, B. Sweet Dreams,” big Steve returned and gave the littles an extra tuck into their beds before taking his and Billy’s plates to the kitchen sink.

Billy followed him and leaned against the counter. “Not to get sappy, but they really love you.”

Steve smiled as the dishes filled up with soapy water. Then he turned the faucet off to let them soak. “They’re good little guys. So we’ll settle the leftovers dispute tomorrow?”

His features sank a little as he watched Billy already strolling toward the front doors. “I’ll know if you cheat, pretty boy.”

“I don’t need to cheat. The pie is mine.”

Billy threw an amused smirk over his shoulder, and heard Steve lock the doors as he went to his car.

Brushing their teeth is an ordeal, echoed in his head as he started his car and reversed out of the driveway -

Like a flinch, he checked his shirt pocket and found it empty. Billy shook his head and pushed the cassette tape sticking out of his radio back in. The music only provided a backdrop for his thoughts, though, particularly the wonder at how far Steve was willing to trouble himself to take care of these tiny people.

Even a tiny Billy Hargrove.

Billy made the decision before he was really conscious of it, but as he turned onto Curly Lane and cruised into the trailer park, he stuck to it. If anyone could use some kush, it was Steve. It’d be a good way to spend the rest of the pot pie, too, underneath a haze of sour smoke.

The noise of his car usually announced his presence enough, so the loud stumbling inside the double-wide came as a surprise after he knocked on the door. It was a good habit to stand away from the front door, especially an outward-opening one that Eddie burst open. “Oh. Hargrove. What’s uh.”

“Up?” he responded, deadpan.

Eddie’s head tilted with an annoyed, but patient frown. “What brings you to my castle? The usual?”

“Yeah, unless you’ve found something special.”

“Not the special you like,” he refused on his way back inside. Billy caught the door and let himself into the living room-kitchen area. The floor creaked underneath him, but all houses did in one way or another -

Something audibly fell on the other side of the trailer, presumably in Eddie’s room. He locked eyes with Billy where he had a kitchen scale on the counter. Why he kept his supply in the main part of the house instead of the den of his room, Billy didn’t know, and didn’t particularly care. But he offered, “Do you need to check that?”

“No, I’ve got enough shit in there to cushion anything precious that falls - ”

A distinct, metallic twang pierced the air, and without another word, Eddie marched to the back of the trailer. Billy might not have been bothered, if whispers were actually silent, which they very often were not.

“Hey, Munson,” he called down the short hallway.

“YeahjustgivemeaSECOND!”

Billy rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on the wall. If this took too long, it was hardly going to be worth it. “Do you have a stray cat in there, or something?”

Eddie emerged in his customary flurry of long curls and flapping denim vest. “Yeah, a real rascal. Your usual is my usual.”

Billy pulled out some dollar bills and held them at the ready while Eddie finished using the scale and slid the dried crumbled over the edge to land in a baggie.

An electronic burp moved through the air like an amp being turned on. Eddie froze. His eyes flicked up to Billy’s, who crooned, “Smart cat.”

He zipped up the baggie and quickly traded the money in Billy’s hand. “Awesome. Now if that’ll be all - whatwhatwhatwhat are you doing?”

Billy strolled down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Eddie might’ve had a similar height as him, but Billy’s structure made Eddie mold himself against the wall in an effort to block him from his bedroom. “I’m flattered, Hargrove, but customers have to buy me dinner first.”

Eddie’s customer service smile evaporated as Billy gripped his vest and shirt and moved him aside. To his credit, Eddie looked mean when he was mad.

“I’m not here to judge your taste in girls, Munson, but I am making sure there’s some honor amongst criminals.”

His eyes widened over sputtering words. “What the hell is that s’pposed to mean? Don’t take me as some kind of - heyheyhey!”

Billy’s grip on the doorknob beat his and Eddie swung into his room with the door. It would’ve been funny, and it was, but Billy’s eyes froze on the small body hanging off of the guitar mounted on the wall. For not the first time, and what he annoyingly suspected to not be the last, Billy felt a creepy crawly feeling move across his spine. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Eddie sprang up in his face. “Look, man, I know this is weird and I’m not inclined to try and talk anybody out of a bad trip. I’m only mildly hurt that you bought some unreliable shrooms from somebody else - ”

“I’m not an artist, I don’t take hallucinogenics,” Billy snapped. “Where the hell did you find another tiny?”

Eddie’s mouth opened to keep talking, but then snapped shut over puckered lips like he intended to whistle. “Wait. Another? What do you mean, another?”

#harringrove #wrecked-fuse #neonponders #pocketverse #pocket!au #like magnets

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reallucasbergman · 3 months ago

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My clean version of Blender magazine's "50 Worst Songs Ever"

Some people thought about a clean version of Blender magazine's "50 Worst Songs Ever", and I wrote this version of it. The list avoids critically acclaimed songs, so that it's nice, clean, more accurate, and more easier to understand.

The list no longer avoids novelty songs, while the critically panned songs that were included in the original version stayed in their rightful positions.

Other alternative names include:

"50 Most Awesomely Bad Songs Ever"

"Run for Your Life! It's the 50 Worst Songs Ever!"

"The 50 Worst Songs Ever! Watch, Listen and Cringe!"

Here's the list:

Starship - We Built This City (1985)

Billy Ray Cyrus - Achy Breaky Heart (1992)

Kim Wilde - Kids in America (1981)

Limp Bizkit - Nookie (1999)

Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby (1990)

Falco - Rock Me Amadeus (1985)

Bobby McFerrin - Don't Worry, Be Happy (1988)

Eddie Murphy - Party All the Time (1985)

Madonna - American Life (2003)

Paul McCartney ft. Stevie Wonder - Ebony and Ivory (1982)

Clay Aiken - Invisible (2003)

The Beach Boys - Kokomo (1988)

Genesis - Illegal Alien (1984)

Chuck Berry - My Ding-a-Ling (1972)

Nena - 99 Luftballons (1983)

4 Non Blondes - What's Up? (1993)

Richard Harris - MacArthur Park (1968)

Toni Basil - Mickey (1982)

Rick Dees & His Cast of Idiots - Disco Duck (1976)

Sisqó - Thong Song (2000)

Starland Vocal Band - Afternoon Delight (1976)

Peter Schilling - Major Tom (Coming Home) (1983)

Reginald Bosanquet - Dance with Me (1980)

Los del Río - Macarena (1993)

Captain and Tennille - Muskrat Love (1976)

Paul Anka - (You're) Having My Baby (1974)

Trio - Da Da Da (1982)

Phil Collins - Sussudio (1985)

Deep Blue Something - Breakfast at Tiffany's (1995)

Legendary Stardust Cowboy - Paralyzed (1968)

Crash Test Dummies - Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm (1993)

Will Smith - Gettin' Jiggy With It (1998)

Aqua - Barbie Girl (1997)

Take That - Could It Be Magic (1992)

R.E.M. - Shiny Happy People (1991)

Las Ketchup - The Ketchup Song (Aserejé) (2002)

Black Lace - Agadoo (1984)

Rednex - Cotton Eye Joe (1994)

Ricky Martin - She Bangs (2000)

Baha Men - Who Let the Dogs Out? (2000)

Billy Joel - We Didn't Start the Fire (1989)

After the Fire - Der Kommissar (1982)

Terry Jacks - Seasons in the Sun (1973)

Des'ree - Life (1998)

Spandau Ballet - True (1983)

Chris de Burgh - The Lady in Red (1986)

Counting Crows ft. Vanessa Carlton - Big Yellow Taxi (2003)

The Beatles - Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da (1968)

The Cheeky Girls - The Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum) (2002)

Celine Dion - My Heart Will Go On (1997)

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silly-lil-lee · 11 months ago

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I need to get the height difference down yet, since Sylvia's a bit shorter than what she appears to be in this picture- so we're just gonna pretend she's on a stool or somethin gudgjegjegu- I'm getting better at Alastor!!

ANYWAY lil father-daughter bonding- what's she rambling about? Who knows! But its making her smile, which makes Alastor happy.

Filtered ver:

#toony talks #my art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #Spotify

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silent-raven13 · 1 year ago

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Sunflower, will you...

Miles turns his body on his seat wearing all white since him and are friends celebrating him and Hobie's anniversary. They decided to do a beach party with at Miguel's private beach house in 928 world.

Everyone is always impressed how much money Miguel has, even when it comes to owning HQ and multiple houses- probably Lyla is able to make him rich quick with her skills.

Anyway, everyone was out wearing nice beach dresses and outfits to fit the warm Spring celebration. There was games, drinks, food and music on the large patio. Peter 616 working with Miguel on the grill, since he claims his burgers are amazing, while Miguel claims his carne asada is better than Peter's basic burgers.

"Oh come on, Miggy. My burgers are true! You can't have a beach party without burgers?" Peter said out loud wearing an apron that said 'The Grillfather', while bits of his gray hair fell over his head.

Miguel scoffs, "Pfft, una carne asada is the best way to good. Así!" He flip a large piece of steak on the other part of the grill while he wore 'Kiss the Chef' apron. He ran his mix of brown and gray hairs back with his hand feeling the windy sea salt breeze. "Gabriella, tráeme una cerveza!" He needed a cold one for today's perfect weather.

"Yeah,. Mayday! Get me one too!" Peter shouted.

Jess stood with MJ with a chuckle, "Men and their grills."

"Tell me, about it. Peter bought so many BBQ books to make the perfect burger." MJ giggles.

"OKay. Okay!" Gabriella said out loud with Mayday follow her as the two were busy playing Volleyball with Gerald and Billie.

Miles chuckles watch those two old Spider-men never stop bickering at each other. Gwen came by wearing a white tank top wearing flowy linen skirt, she had her long blond hair still dyed in rainbow colors underweight style, she still had her shave side with long side bangs , "Ohh, looks like your bae is coming this way."

"Hahaha, of course." Miles faces his partner, seeing Hobie walking over wearing loose linen casual short sleeve button up shirt, and some shorts with flip flops. Of course, he's wearing in black with some Hobie's punk touches to remain true to his fashion aesthetics. His button up shirt wide open to reveal his bare chest.

Unlike Miles, he wore all white with a bit of yellow flowers and cute designs and long cotton mix linen pants with flip flops. Pavtri stood with his wavy long hair tied into a man bun, then grins showing a bit of wrinkle smile, "Ohhh, what's he up too?"

Hobie came up to his partner with a smile on his face seeing his old Spider band friends around them. "Sunflower..."

"Bae." Miles smiles at him, showing the same love as they were sixteen. Nothing has change. Hobie had his longer thick wicks and grew out a goatee, which looks so handsome on him.

The tall man got down on one knee making everyone looking over with snickering and smiles. "Sunflower, will you marry me?" He grins widely with a playful smile, he reveals a box with a simple ring.

"Awee!" The women were awed at the romantic gesture while the men were chuckling.

Miles couldn't help letting out a shrill of giggles, "Hobie, we been married for thirty years now. You don't need to ask me every year to marry you."

Gwen and Pavtri laughs out loud. Hobie gave a puppy pout with his eyes going big like a teary Precious Moment character, "So, is that a no?"

"Aye, este chico." Miguel commented at this ridiculous proposal. The Spider Punker always do this since those two married.

Gabriella, a woman laughs at her dad's words as she passed him a beer, "Papá, you shouldn't be drinking so much. The doctor said you need to watch your intake."

"Ah, that doctor can go kiss my ass. I work too damn hard as Spider-man." He took a cold beer.

Mayday giggles, "I think it's cute. Hobie really loves Miles." A young Spider-woman with long wavy red hair as she handed a beer to her dad.

Miles cup his husband's face with his thumb gently massaging Hobie's cheek, his big doe eyes staring deep at his Punker's eyes, "Hobie, mi amor. No matter how many times you ask me, I will always say yes! I love you. So, yes, I will marry you." He gave him a peck on the lips.

Hobie happily took the kiss as the two been happily together in their fifties. He hugs his husband, "That's what I like to hear." Hobie put the ring in his husband's ring finger which made Miles giggles.

"Bae, you gotta chill with the rings. I don't have enough fingers for all the rings you give me." Miles kisses his husband again.

"I can't help myself, luv. This one is special, I made it mi-self, darling." The punker saw his husband's smiles widen showing more of his wrinkle smile. Even though, they were older they still look good for their age. His heart melts still seeing his Sunflower's big honey-brown eyes as if they first dated.

"Mm, then I'll have to wear this everyday then." Miles admire the gift, "I love it, bae. Thank you."

"Anything for you."

Billie already a grown woman happily went over to hug her big brother, "Awe, so cute. Hobie, how long your gonna do this? Don't you think proposing him every year is a bit much?"

"He loves me, boo-boo." Miles hugs his little sister. She grown to be a Detective in helping him solve cases on the Justice System and him being Spiderman.

"I will always show my Sunflower's my dying love, right luv." Hobie's one arm wraps on his husband's shoulders.

"I say keep going. It's so cute!" Pavtri said happily.

"For real, it's not hurting anybody." Gwen added.

Gabriella went over being so happy, "I wish I can find someone like you two! Ugh, but the dating community is sooo toxic right now."

"Your world, too!" Mayday gasps in shock, "Same!"

"Yeah, me too!" Billie let go of her brother to talk to the other women. "Like it's so shitty even when you try to get a good sneaky link."

"Aye, language!" Miles said, even though his sister is a grown woman, he always see her as his little boo-boo.

"Awe, what did I do?" Billie pouts.

Mayday giggles, "Come on, Miles! We're grown. We like having sex and meeting random guys on-" Gabriella roughly nudges her as she spotted their dad's glaring over. "Aye May, sshhhh! Our dads are listening!"

"Opps!"

"What was that May?" Peter asked in a serious tone.

"Nothing!" Mayday quickly said.

Miguel arched over to his daughter, "Hija, who are you seeing?"

"No one, papá!"

"Lyla!"

"No, papá! You can't make me be your little girl forever!"

"Like hell I can!" Miguel huffs.

Miles and Hobie chuckles as they got up to walk along the beach with their hands together, They tightly held each other, "Happy 30th anniversary, luv." Hobie felt Miles' head laying his head on his shoulder as they found a spot to watch the sunset.

"Mmm, happy anniversary, mi amor." Miles kisses his husband cheek. "I love you so much."

"Me too, darling. Me too." They nose nuzzle as the sunset and they kiss as a way to complete their perfect day. The party continues on with the craziness of their friends and families.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #spider verse #spiderman #across the spider verse #flowerpunk #fanfic #spiderverse

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cazzyf1 · 6 months ago

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My favorite and interesting quotes from: Mike Hawthorn : Golden Boy - By Tony Bailey and Paul Skilleter

As a child, his fondest memory is the occasion when, on his 11th birthday in 1954, Mike bought him a Hornby train set. (Mike's cousin) -p2

Miss Murrel remembers that Mike was a very nice little boy. He looked after after his brown and orange uniform well and had such lovely golden hair. She also added that "of course, he was naughty. They are always naughty" - p4

Due to his thick head of blonde, almost white hair he gained the nickname 'Snowball' - p7

Many years later he made a guest apperance on television, playing the trumpet on the Billy Cotton Band Show - p7

"One year, it must have been 1958, just before the presentation, I was washing my hands when I felt am arm go around my shoulders - it was Mike - whose year it was to receive the award after having become World Champion. 'Hello, Jullens,' he said. 'I remember you were very kind to me when you caught me smoking' - the usual punishment was six of the best - 'you didn't report me and simply warned me not to get caught again!'" - p9

Ardingly had the destination of being near the spot where the first German V1 'doodlebug' fell on Britian. This occurred on 13th of May 1944 and was heard by Mike and the other boys in his dormitory. This distinctive pulsing, harsh jet noise cut out almost directly overhead and the boys dived underneath their beds. The V1 fortunately glided for another half a mile before crashing at the village of Cuckfield - p9

Mike suffered the disturbing experience of his parents separating. Both Leslie and Winifred were strong characters, and Leslie also had an explosive temper - not to mention, it would seem, a propensity for having affairs, and a pronounced fondness for beer. So perhaps the rift which developed between them was not unexpected, and Winifred moved from Merridale, the family home in Farnham, to a flat in West Street. Mike continued to have great regard for both his parents, but perhaps because Merridale no longer felt like home without his mother, he too moved out, and stayed for a while with the family of his friend Niel McNab - p13

He was an intensely private man in many ways but he was aware of who he was and his fame. He was incredibly moody - people have this image of him as a great, gallant sportsman, the life and soul of the party, but I saw a completely different side of him. It's been recorded in books that his friends would say that he's been fine one minute then cut them dead the next day. And he would. - p27

She was a pupil at the Farnham Girls Grammar School when Mike went there once to give a talk on road safety, just weeks before his accident - p27

The first time I saw Michael was on my first day at the garage; his first words to me were: "I hope you can make a cup of tea as good as your mother!" I found out later when I made my first tea the comment from him was: "No, it's not as good as his mother's" I think I heard 'gnat's pee' mentioned as well - p28

Mike always had his tea in the workshop with the staff when he was out there. The blokes all had their own cups; Mike's cup was a monster of a blue and white one - p19

Mike was driven into work as he was on crutches with a leg or foot in plaster. This is etched on my memory because when he saw me, in my new overalls in his garage, he raised one crutch and pointed it at me and asked the staff with him, 'Who the fuck is that?' - p29

On another memorable occasion Mike came squelching into the workshop after my blood. He had managed to put his foot into my mop bucket and spilt the water all over his office. Hardly my fault if a top racing driver doesn't look where he is going! I didn't say that to him, though! By Christmas 1956 Mike had either forgiven me or decided to get his own back. He had won Reims and part of the prize was 100 bottles of champagne. Anyway on Christmas Eve he opened several bottles for a staff party. We only had pint beet glasses and Mike personally handed them out to workers, including Brian and myself, and they were full to the brim - pints of champagne! - p30

I was working with Brit one day and I let my nickname for the sales manager, Mr Burton, slip. Brit was highly amused but what I did not know was later he said something to Mike. I was doing my dinner-time stint on the pumps a couple of days later when Hawthorn came striding across to the kiosk. My heart sank as I thought I am in for another bollocking. He came in and said: "Right you little bugger, Brit tells me you have a nickname for my sales manager - what is it?" I sheepishly told him and he roared with laughter and called me a cheeky sod - p31

"One day he was drooling at it when a tall blonde tall chap suddenly opened the showroom door and barked "Don't just stand there dribbling down my window, if you want to look at it, come and do it properly!" Mike spent time showing the youngster the finer points, sat him in it and even popped a crash helmet on his head." Also, Colin Pool relates: "My Mother was very friendly with Mike when I was younger. As an only child, I was carted around the various cocktail parties in Farnham area. One day, to keep me amused and I guess to keep me quiet, Mike put me in charge of his Jaguar and went back to the party. All was well until I found the handbrake which I managed to release! The car went downhill into a rhododendron bush! No damage but no more treats like that!" - p32

Once dad was working back at the garage from 1954, in later years Mike would come to our house and, if the timing was right, he used to take me to school in his green Jaguar. He knew that I was terrified of him - not in a nasty way - but to me, as a young schoolgirl, he was this great big man with all that blonde hair and he used to play on this. Often dad would be working down the garage and I'd take his sandwiches down and Mike would just follow me round with his eyes and grin - he knew it took all the courage I could find to walk in there when he was watching. But he was lovely and, as I've said, he'd often take me to school. Sometimes he'd come up to the house with Grogger. - p33

He then challenged Hawthorn to stand on his hands. Mike at first said no as he was a big bloke. We all egged him on, so JMH said OK but if Ted hurt himself it was his fault. Blow me if Ted went and did it - lifted him clean up till his arms were straight - p35

Then there was April Ashley who, as you will no doubt recall, was the first person to have a sex change operation in the country. This was in the early 1960s. Prior to that she was a well-known drag act in the fifties. It was coming up to tea break and Michael was in the workshop near the stove when she arrived. A look of panic came over Hawthorn's face and he made a Le Man's start for the office and sprinted across, calling out to me with some urgency in his voice "Brian, go and tell that person that I am not in," I went to the workshop door, by this time 'that person' was standing by thr door, to me a very heavily made-up female. I said 'God Morning madam, can I help you?' And a surprisingly deep voice said, 'Is Mike in?' - p36/37

My brother Alan remembers coming down to the TT one Christmas for our booze up. I asked Mike if it was OK for him to have a jar - he said "The more the merrier." Mike asked Alan what he would like and he said a whiskey. He promptly got a bloody great tumbler full! - p41

I have many memories and bits and bobs including Michael's Challenge me the Race, obviously a first edition. Most of the people who worked there at the time were given one. It has a Gillette sports parade photo he signed for me (and called me a bloody nuisance for asking,) which I stuck inside the front leaf. Mike misspelt my name on it, probably on purpose - p44

Ann was the main office lass and she had a junior girl working with her. Ann was a tall, dark haired, slim and attractive lass but strictly off limits to Michael on orders of Mrs Hawthorn - p45

Mike was very hit and miss with the media. He wasn't keen on them. There was one journalist, I think his name was John Penrose, and he may have worked for a local newspaper. He had a big lefthand drive 1940's Buick. Journalists weren't really allowed on the garage premises except him - strange really; Mike was such a private man in many ways - p46

During their years at Merridale, the marriage of Leslie and Winifred deteriorated, however, and as a teenager Mike would have witnessed some uncomfortable scenes at Merridale - indeed, the couple were renowned locally for their rows - p63

Mrs Hawthorn would keep her distaste of journalists for the rest of her life, the more so after Mike died, when they caused her so much distress that she felt the need to destroy much of what remained of his personal effects - p64

Mike soon found Merridale a lonely place without his mother and, with his father often away for long periods, he moved in for six months with the McNabs, sharing a bedroom with his lifelong friend Neil - p64

"I hope you all had a good Xmas. Mine was pretty rotten. I was staying in France at the time and I was feeling the effects of a vaccination I had for smallpox. I tried a little skiing there but decided it was too risky. I might have sprained or broken an ankle, and that would have put paid to my racing here in Argentine" Mike's letter home - p66

"Nearly every night there has been a cocktail party, or dinner party. The people here are very generous. Believe it or not we actually did some motor racing" - p67

"By the way when I was in Ireland a couple of weeks back I saw two little model cars in a garage window. I brought then for Neil and Ian (Mike's younger cousins) and hope they like them. The garage people said they would post them to you. I don't know which car the boys want for themselves, but I would let them sort it out between them. I'm afraid it's rather a late Xmas present but I could not do much about it when I was in Italy" - p68

"I owe everything to my Father," he said simply to a journalist after he had won the World Championship - p71

Mike himself walked bear headed in the rain, supporting his mother with a hand still red from the Syracuse burns as they walked along the path to the church - p72

He also revealed that he had, in fact, volunteered for flying duty with the RAF - one of his boyhood dreams had been to be a spitfire pilot - but he had been rejected out of hand due to his kidney problem - p72

Jean Ireland, whom as Jean Howarth would be Mike's fiancé, says that Mike was unable to tell the press about the true serious nature of his condition, as if it had become common knowledge, almost certainly his international racing licence would have been revoked, ending his motor racing career there and then. So he just had to edure the abuse, and continue to avoid being drafted by whatever means he could - p74/75

When in England Mike was usually at a local pub, but had always left before the police arrived with the documents (call up papers). The police officer felt sure that Mike was being tipped off by a sympathiser at the local police station - p75

Mike would then drive past the police station, in his Jaguar blowing the horn with two fingers held high out of the drivers window - p75

Mum recalls a Monday morning when she got there Mrs Hawthorn was chundering away. On the previous day, Sunday, Michael had offered to mow the lawn, which was most unusual as he rarely did anything in the garden. She was dubious about letting him do it but as he had offered she said ok. They had a petrol mower you walked behind. Mrs Hawthorn said that after a few minutes it sounded as if a Grand Prix was going on outside so she went out to investigate. There was Mike belting up and down the lawn mowing a zigzag pattern, as he thought she would like a change... Mike got a severe wrist slapping for that and it took my Dad a few mowing sessions to repair that one - p76

Mrs Taylor found that Winifred was forever sending clothes to the cleaners and remembers Michael calling out from upstairs: "Where are my Harry Hall trousers, mother?" She replied that they were at the cleaners which made him a little annoyed - p78

Michael once decided to build a model aeroplane and Mrs Hawthorn made him cover up the table in the sitting room to construct it on. Mrs Hawthorn was chuntering on about his model for several days to Mum as she said Michael did not have enough time to do it. After about a week he went away racing. Mrs Hawthorn threatened to throw it in the dustbin while he was away. When Mum got there the next morning Mrs Hawthorn said: "Come and see what Michael has done!" On the table was a large note: 'MRS.T TAKE NO NOTICE OF MY MOTHER MOVE THIS AT YOUR PERIL' - P78

Michael, unless he had an early appointment, rarely surfaced in the mornings until Mrs Hawthorn had left the house which meant he was never up before 9am - p78

One morning mum was in the kitchen at about 9:30am when she heard Michael call out, "Mrs Taylor!" She went into the hallway and he was at the top of the stairs holding up a shirt, yelling that it had a button missing, and would Mum sew one on? This caused her a bit of panic - she told him she didn't know if there was any needle and thread and she didn't want to poke around in any cupboards or drawers that she was not supposed to. Did he know where they might be? His casual reply was 'I haven't got a clue but that's all right, there is bound to be something down there' and with that, Michael chucked the shirt down over the banister. Mum caught it and spent a frantic few minutes searching for a needle, muttering to herself that 'he has got dozens of flipping shirts but he choose one with a button off' Mum got it sorted and, as she put it, took the shirt upstairs to 'his nibs' He grinned, simply saying 'Thank You - I told you the stuff was down there.' - p78

Michael collected old tobacco pipes, often using them himself - p79

Dad caught me down the garden shed puffing away on some pencil shavings and butt ends I had collected! When I joined the TT Garage they thought it would be a good idea to give the pipe to Mr Hawthorn and so remove the temptation. I duly gave the pipe to Mr Hawthorn and he was very pleased. The next morning he saw Mum and said, 'Thank you - was it okay, Brian giving the pipe away?' He thought it was funny when she told him the old man caught me spluttering away on it in the shed - p79

Mum also remembers Mrs Hawthorn always going on about Michael being untidy, but mum said it was water off a duck's back. One thing that used to get Mrs Hawthorn ticking was Michael's liberal use of Yardley's talcum powder when he got ready in the morning. Mum said there was always a trail of footprints from the bathroom to his room. Mum used to go and clean it all up and tidy his room, as he used to hand his clothes on the floor - p80

Mike had decided after retiring that he wanted to get into air racing, but died before he could achieve this ambition - p81

Michael's dog, Grogger, used to follow Mum home quite often, and whenever he used to escape he would go to our home - she would often hear Grogger scratching at the door. Mrs Hawthorn and Michael never used to worry about what had happened to him. They knew where he would be - with us! - p82

Mrs Hawthorn later told Mrs Taylor, her 'daily', that Mike had come into her bedroom that night. He was in tears and sat on her bed holding Grogger's lead. '"What have I done, mother! My lovely Grogger is gone," he said and was inconsolable for a while - p83

Mike also become highly popular with the mechanics "who loved him" according to Lofty. Even (Sir) William Lyons had what can only be termed a soft spot for him - p114

To be sure, the incident was triggered by Hawthorn coming in for his first refuelling stop. This was not a sudden decision on his part but was fully planned in accordance with Jaguar refuelling procedure at Le Mans: on three previous laps he had been given the signals "Fuel 3 laps" "Fuel 2 laps" and finally "Fuel in". This sequence has been misunderstood by some, including Mercedes-Benz, at the time, the assumption being that Mike was ignoring me missing some of his 'in' signals - p122

To summarise, it shows clearly that Hawthorn's move to the right hand side of the track was measured and far from sudden in the context of motor racing and the track positions of the D-type and the Austin-Healey. Macklin - probably concentrating on his rear view mirror - seemingly failed to see what was a routine pit stop manoeuvre - p126

I noticed a sign go up in the jaguar pit after approximately 2 hours of racing, the sign had a number 6 inscribed thereon and arrow pointing outwards. Next lap around the sign was still up but the arrow was reversed, which, obviously, was informing Mr. Hawthorn and the no. 6 jaguar to pit on the next lap. I stood up set up my camera and prepared to photograph the Jaguar in the pits. In less than four minutes I observed the jaguar far down the straight. I noticed two silver cars and it was immediately apparent that Hawthorn was lapping one of the Mercedes. Shortly after passing the slight bend in the straight Hawthorn pass Macklin in the Austin heavy "100.S" he was still 300 to 400 yd from his pit. Hawthorn moved from the outer lane to the inner lane and was some 60 to 80 yd in front of the Austin Healey when he started to decelerate. The Austin Healey started to close on the jaguar and they were in the same lane. Suddenly Macklin in the A.H. realised the jaguar was slowing. He was about 20 yd to the rear of the jaguar when he evidently realised the situation. Mr. Macklin had a choice, hit the rear of the jaguar, or swing out and pass. He swung out very quickly and directly in front of the on-rushing Mercedes, with Mr. Levegh driving. When the A.H. moved out he was approximately 20 yd in front of the Mercedes. I imagine that the Mercedes speed was at least 40 miles per hour faster than the A.H. levengh had time to swing the Mercedes outwards a slight amount before hitting the left rear of the Austin Healey. The right front of the Mercedes rode over the left wheel of the rear of the A.H. causing the Mercedes to deflect and strike the retaining wall in a nose up position. Striking the wall in this attitude caused the car to break in two parts. The front half going through the spectators, the aft section remaining on the wall. Basically, Hawthorn committed no errors. His driving at that time was exactly identical to all of the other higher speed cars when they prepared to pit. Directly after the accident, I sat down and took notes on what I observed. I read these notes to at least 12 people in the grandstands. Except for very minor details they agreed by observations. I attempted to be quite correct to my observations as 4 years prior to my present assignment I was an aircraft accident investigator for the U.S.A.F. Those four years taught me how incorrect and how varying eyewitnesses can be! I have also done a bit of race and sports car racing stateside. In conclusion, in no way should Mr Hawthorn or his pit crew be held, even remotely, responsible for the accident at Le Mans 1955 - p128

The next year shortly before the start, I learned that a memorial to those killed the previous year was to be unveiled opposite the pits. Thus if there had been any major (or any) anti-Hawthorn feeling among the relatives of those killed there could have been a demonstration against Mike. There was nothing. If there had been I intended to withdrawl all three Jaguars there and then. - p132

Both Sir Williams Lyons (who was knighted in 1956) and race team manager Lofty England regarded hin almost as an adopted son - in Sir Williams case, a replacement for his own son (also called John Michael), killed on the way to Le Mans in 1955, in the case of Lofty as perhaps the son he never had - p139

For the last bends, Hawthorn was there all the time watching me, and we had a job doing it - I think Mike was worried that we'd set the car on fire - p140

In the Lancia he would bait the local police by driving past them at night and giving the two figured salute, encourage them to give chase - p148

There was a set of traffic lights in Farnham at the bottom of a hill on the way to school. I remember Michael stopping there once and another car pulled up alongside us. Michael obviously knew the other driver and that he was indicating he'd like to race Michael away from the lights and up the hill! Michael didn't though and I assume that was because I was in the car (the daugher of one of Mike's employees who Mike gave lifts to school)- p148

It needed testing several times during the operation. Bill eventually said: "take Brian this time." Michael muttered something along the lines of "Bloody nuisance again" We went down the Guildford road, turning onto the Farnham bypass, then overtook a couple of cars. There was a Premix concrete lorry way ahead of us and I could see traffic coming the other way - he howled down the bypass and I remember the Premix lorry rapidly looming up and thinking that he was going to break any second. Wrong! I do not think he even lifted his foot: VDU did not seem to steer round the lorry, it flicked out and back in again, and I was aware of traffic flashing past coming the other way. I had heard it said that he could make that car breathe in to get it through a gap and that experience convinced me that they were right. He stopped at the traffic lights, went access and turned around about half a mile later by Weydon Lane and came back up across the lights, screaming back up the bypass, I was hanging on ready for the top left hand bend that was looming. Wrong again!!! There was a blur of hands and feet, down through the gears, then down the little single track chute road that formed a short cut between the top bend and the junction. This little road was used frequently by people coming off of the bypass to avoid the junction and just went down by the Shepherd and Flock. It was quite a sharp drop with a left hand bend at the bottom and it felt as though we were airborne for a bit. We got back to the garage, and Michael never said a word from start to finish - p149

Mike had calmed down somewhat after he won the World Championship, and was less wild on public roads - p150

Mike was a really nice person. He was fun-loving, he was good to be with, he was kind, he was generous - p151

Mike expressed the view that marriage was not for the racing driver, the unspoken reason being that there could all too easily be a widow - p151

She (Winifred Mike's mother) used to call me 'that woman' If we were sitting in front of the fire having supper, she'd say to Mike 'Pass that woman the salt'. Mike never said anything, but one weekend he said, 'I've got a permanent room in this hotel.' (Mike's fiancé)- p153

We didn't go out to dinner, the two of us, very often because we'd either have supper at home, or we went to various venues, because he was very much on the scene at the time, and we were constantly being invited out. So we ate out a lot but not because he wanted to, but because it was all part of the scene at the time. He was very happy to sit at home and watch television and have meals on his knees - p154

Yes, Mike loved life, he loved beer, and he loved his whiskey chasers. But in my day, I never had any problems with him looking at other women, and he never got drunk - p154

He was a brilliant after-dinner speaker. He had the whole room in fits of laughter. He had wonderful jokes; he had a little diary, and he'd put down the first line and last line - that's how he remembered jokes. If he was asked to give a speech he was brilliant - p154

Mike was the sort of person who would be able to talk to the local dustman, or the King of England, and he would treat them the same. To him they were no different and he was charming to both - p154

His habit of replying to virtually all the letters he received, even from schoolboys asking somewhat naïve questions - p155

It was outside the Barley Mow that Mike ran over Grogger. Jean Ireland remembers how much this affected Mike. "He was absolutely mortified. It was dreadful - he was so distraught." - p155

Jean Ireland thinks that had Mike lived, they would have regularly flown across to France, as Mike was fond of wine and would have brought some back in the plane - p155

She thinks he might have indulged in a little bit of smuggling, as on the occasion when he won 100 bottles of champagne at Reims. "He flew them over, and landed the plane on a beach somewhere on the south coast, took the champagne out, hid it and flew on. I'm pretty sure that's what he did!" - p155

I think Mike must have thought I was not very wordly-wise, because he wrote me a little note, and it said: 'No. 1, passport, No. 2, ring Stirling, here's his number, No. 3 was something else...' he wrote all this down on a little piece of paper for me. I think he was just looking after me, which I thought was lovely. I still have that little piece of paper somewhere. - p156

Jean Jreland agrees that Peter was one of his closest friends, and the loss affected him deeply. It seems that Mike did not talk much to Jean about Peter's death - the hurt was probably too great - and another topic which he never raised, with her at least, was Le Mans 1955. "He was a bit like my Father. He was in the First World War but he never ever talked about it. And I think it was the same scenario. It was so horrendous that they just put it to the back of their minds." - p156/157

When he asked me to marry him, which was in the car going from London to Farnham as they passed Wisley Gardens, he said to me - and I was all of 21! - 'Have you got any skeletons in the cupboard?' And I said, 'No!' Then he told me he'd got a son in France, so I suppose he was wondering what I'd got hidden!" - p157

Mike didn't splash out on things. He wasn't a man that needed the trappings of life - p157

Jean Ireland is convinced that Mike crashed because he had a blackout. "He was ill. He knew that road backwards. He wasn't racing Rob Walker as people say he was; it's absolute rubbish - he didn't do things like that. He never frightened me. I think he had a blackout. He never let anybody know because he wouldn't be able to race. He used to be in a lot of pain. I saw him on the floor in absolute agony at times." - p158

We were supposed to be getting married in June. He'd just been to ask my father if he could marry me, and that weekend he was going to France to sort out the arrangements with this girl who had his son - p158

He only had five years to live and his doctor told me he would have been in a wheelchair. He would have been impossible in a wheelchair, so in a way it was perhaps better that Mike went that way. - p159

He was kissing me goodnight once night and his pipe just broke! He was so upset! He had stuck it in his top pocket and it just broke - p160

There was a possibility of Stirling Moss driving alongside Mike in the 1956 Jaguar works team, but while Mike was happy to operate as joint number one, Moss was not, so it came to nothing - p181

He passengered Phil Hill in a Fiat 1100; the American drove so gently on the poorly surfaced roads that Mike fell asleep! - p193

Says Jean Ireland, who spoke to him that morning on the telephone, "He didn't want to go to London, because he wasn't feeling very well. There was a settle in the porch and he sat there and didn't want to go to London that day, and he was late leaving. He was just ill..." - p202

On the morning of the accident Michael came downstairs from his room at the cottage dresse in his usual suit then, usually, sat on the chaise lounge at the bottom of the stairs for some few minutes, holding his head in his hands. This was something he had never done before. The Hawthorn's always treated my mother very well and in turn she was extremely loyal, honest and very deferential. She did not dream of what she would consider stepping out of line and so did not dare ask if anything was wrong, although she did ask if he wanted a cup of tea, to which he replied 'No thank you." After a period he got up, calling out to my mother, "I am off now Mrs T - see you tomorrow!" - p202

Her one big regret is that she did not ask him if he was OK, as she had noticed that he looked extremely pale. I also noticed how pale he was when he arrived at the garage and came round the workshop - p202

The jaguar came alongside and I saw it was Mike Hawthorn. He waved to me and we both accelerated as hard as we could alongside each other - p203

Walker reached the Jaguar first. "I ran across the road thinking to go up to him and say, 'That was a bloody silly thing to do, Mike,' and I looked in the car and he wasn't in the driving seat. Then I walked round the car and I saw him lying full length in the back seat, just as if he'd got in the back seat to have a kip. His eyes were open and I saw a trickle of blood coming from the back (of his head); then as I looked down at him, his eyes suddenly glazed and I realised he was gone." - p208

"Hawthorn was barely breathing. He had no pulse. He was deeply unconscious. He possibly breathed twice, but it was too late to do anything." In fact Mike's skull had been fractured and the autopsy would show that fragments of bone had been driven into his brain - p208

I knew Michael and his family quite well from July 1951. After Les Hawthorn was killed, we became quite close. Often we would agree to meet in the local radio shop. We were both keen on a certain type of radio, and would stop and have a cup of tea and a chat. Equally I would invite him to my house for dinner. I can always remember him as a big eater and not a particularly big drinker - p213

Michael can only be described as a perfect gentleman. The manner in which he conducted himself at my house was always impeccable. Polite and courteous were some of his attributes, although occasionally he could be a little boyish in his antics. I remember one formal police dinner dance we invited him to, he brought along one of those 'whoopee' cushions. He certainly knew how to laugh! - p213

The first of Mike's personal friends to reach the scene was Duncan Hamilton; he happened to be in the area while on his way to London, where he was to meet Mike, he had stopped off at a friend's house when a call came through with the news a Jaguar with a VDU registration had crashed on the Guildford bypass. He drove straight to the spot and claimed to have found Mike still in the car. He later also claimed he was there in less than five minutes - so quickly, in fact, that he helped the police remove Mike's body from the wrecked car - p215

Duncan later formally identified Mike at Guildford Mortuary, following an arrangement previously made by the two friends to save their immediate family from the distress of carrying out this task should either get killed - p215

John says that Mike was really good to work with. He recalls on one occasion having trouble driving Peter Collins big Ferrari which was having a disc breaks fitted. It had a racing clutch and was difficult to get off the line. "I'll show you how to drive it," said Mike, who without any sarcasm went on to explain to John. - p224

Jean Ireland, his then fiance, is "Absolutely convinced" that the accident occurred because Mike lost consciousness. She feels that there is no other reason why he lost control of a car he was so adept at driving and on a road which, as she says, "he knew like the back of his hand." Norman Dewis also thinks that "there could have been more to it than just the car and the conditions. Very few people knew about these blackouts but Lofty told me about them. I knew that Mike had a health problem and maybe had five years to live. But what I didn't know was that he'd already had three blackouts." - p227

Some eyewitnesses of the accident reported that Mike was struggling to keep control - p227

It got to opposite the new showrooms and the stopped. The driver's gullwing door opened and an arm came out with two fingers stuck up in the time honoured salute. The door then shut and it made smartly off, taking the righthand fork down the Guildford road about 300 yards away from the garage. A very short time later, and it must have been only two minutes or so, JMH came running out, holding an unbuttoned jacket of his suit to stop it flapping about. He leapt into VDU 881, which was always left on the forecourt in first gear with the handbrake off, and screamed off like a rocket in the same direction as Rob Walker had gone. - p228

It happened all the time with people we knew. And the two fingers from friends was not regarded as an insult in those days. We all did it. It was just a friendly gesture, a greeting - p229

Mike's 86 year old grandmother Kate, very ill with a heart condition, was gently made aware of Mike's death. She had been one of Mike's keenest fans and always followed reports of his races. As she read of each event she would say, 'Thank goodness he is safe.' Only a fortnight before, Mike had visited her and spent much time sitting with her, recounting his races and how proud he was of having lunch with The Queen that previous November - p231

Mrs Hawthorn tried to remove all traces of Michael as quickly as possible. She gave certain of his possessions away to his friends and destroyed all of his personal possessions from the cottage. She burnt all his clothes and many other items one evening - p231

I interviewed Mike for the newspaper back then and wrote, in a topical reference, he was probably the only man who had met both Ruth Ellis (the last woman to be hanged in Britian) and Princess Margaret. This so incensed the Hawthorn family that all Tourist Garage advertising was withdrawn from the newspaper - p232

Mrs H commented to mum the next day that it was not her Michael in the coffin, it was the public's Mike. Mrs Hawthorn was an intensely private person and had wanted a very private funeral - p236

Mike Hawthorn was planning to branch out as a novelist before his death - p239

Mr Flower said that he had last spoken to Mike about the books on Sunday of last week, when they had met by accident at Frensham Pond, were Mike was exercising his dog. 'He said he was very pleased with them' said Mr Flower, 'And so am I. I think the children are going to like them' - p239

The 25 year-old Dorrie was working at a Streatham, South London garage at the time waiting on customers, as was the custom then, for their water, oil and petrol. Her girl companion worker was a bit of a celebrity chaser but Dorrie was much more reserved. However, when Mike Hawthorn arrived on the forecourt one day and got out of his car, Dorrie decided this one was hers and resolved to stop her companion heading for him as they both ran to the door- so trod on her foot which stopped her in her tracks! Dorrie, having filled his car with a very small amount of petrol, found there wasn't a lot else to do and she wondered why he had come in at all? On asking Mike asked her out for a drink after work. But Dorrie never ever went out with her customers, told him so rather icily but politely and retired to the office muttering to herself (and to other garage staff who had witnessed the whole event) a few choice words regarding men who thought they owned you just because they were famous, blonde and six foot three... Her companion told her "You've blown it" and even Dorrie was by now thinking she'd been a bit hasty.... But the next day Mike was back. Dorrie, now on her own, made a sarcastic remark to him about having used up all the petrol from the day before. Mike said that he was not really a customer as he didn't want to buy anything and would she reconsider her reply to his invitation! It turned out that he had passed by the forecourt previously on his alternative route home from London to Farnham and had seen her there and he had now come along to check if she was the little girl he remembered meeting at Brooklands when he was eight years old, saying she had been with two tall men and a blonde boy (her brother). Dorrie knew this was actually true she had gone to Brooklands as a child to see her stat John Cobb. Mike then described the blue dress she had been wearing, made by her grandmother in a vain attempt to make her look like Shirley Temple, a child star of the time! At that time Dorrie couldn't remember actually meeting Mike at Brooklands but her uncle later confirmed the story. So Dorrie accepted the invitation, taking a drink with Mike after she finished work that same evening. Dorrie says she has never regretted the association with Mike that followed these initial incidents and during their time together, Mike commissioned a studio portrait of Dorrie. Even after they had gone their separate ways, he would occasionally ring her just to see how she was and they remained good friends. She says Mike was far removed from being the spoilt young man she had assumed him to be when they first met. After his 1958 World Championship win at Casablanca, Dorrie was surprised to receive a small package in the post. This contained a piece of jewellery from Mike in the form of a silver sheathed scimitar along with a card bearing the words 'For always believing in me' which she has kept to this day. Dorrie is a regular attender at events connected with Mike - p272

Nixon heard rumours about an illegitimate son and in 1988 tracked the mother down. She was Jacqueline Delaunay and had 'encountered' Mike when he had visited Reims for the 1953 French GP - p279

There was, however, minimal contact thereafter between Mike and Jacqueline, though he gave her some financial support and Nixon records that Arnaud remembers being given a ride in the 3.4 litre Jaguar Mike was using when the French boy and his mother visited England in 1958 - p279

In 1975, his mother Jacqueline was killed after being struck by a motorcycle. At this point, someone else who knew about Arnald came into the picture. This was Lofty England. Perhaps because Lofty never had a son and perhaps because Mike had lost his own father, the two had become close friends - p279/280

#this book has so much information #and this post is a bit all over the place #but i hope you enjoy for funny stories about mike and his home life #and information on him in general #classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #mike hawthorn

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warmaidensrevenge · 2 years ago

Text

Always seen you.

Pairings: Ex!Eddie x Insecure!plus size reader x Friend!Elio xFriend!Billy

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Ooofff. Hello again. Welcome back to my series. The last one was rough and i can’t promise this one won’t be any better. So I still hope you guys like it. Thank you @salenorona23 for your help with this one. Love you Hun! So I was inspired by Rascal Flatts- What hurts the most. I was feeling nostalgic and started listening to my N’sync station and I came across this song. Welp I think that’s all. Thanks for reading. As always feedback is always appreciated. Asks and comments are always welcomed. Kay love ya bye.

Warnings: 18+ language, angst, hurt, heartache, oral, slow burn. Not proof read and no word count.

Summary: The heart refuses to accept what the mind already knows. Is it really over? Could it ever be?

Part 20

Days went by after your break up. You couldn't bring yourself to get out of bed. Elio and Billy tried but it was frivolous. Never in your life had you been so broken. You were shattered into a trillion pieces. You had come to believe you would never be able to put yourself back together.

That picture was the worst thing you could have ever seen. Yes, you knew that it wasn't Eddie's fault. But, you couldn't get over the fact that his lips touched someone else's. Was it selfish of you to want to be the only person he ever kissed? To be the only one who got to touch him. To not want anyone else to have his body and his heart?

Maybe this break would be for the best. Maybe the love you had and the relationship with Eddie had become toxic.

You were doing just fine before you became friends. Your heart never hurt this much before. You thought being in love was supposed to be soft and sweet. Like cotton candy. But it was a never ending, winding road of disappointment, pain and tears.

If things were different, if Eddie never met that producer. Or if you never got into MIT. Things would have worked out. But, things were the way they were. And now you were hopeless…almost lifeless.

Bethany and Matthew tried to call you and talk about what happened. But you didn't want to. The wound was still fresh and you couldn't. Wayne even called to check up on you. But like always you shut yourself down.

Things didn't get better the closer it got to Christmas. You didn't want to go home. Everything there would remind you of him. You couldn't even say or even think of his name.

You found yourself drawing again. Notebook after notebook was filled with broken hearts and love lost. Drawings of storms and sad little cartoons filled page after page.

Even school got hard for you. You would just stare off into the distance every class. And that was the worst because you kept getting flashbacks of all the good memories that turned sad when you saw them again. Work was a constant annoyance. And clubs were no longer fun.

When Christmas came you stood at school. Spending the holiday with Billy, Ellio and his family.

When Eddie went home for Christmas he was looking forward to finally talking to you. And when he saw his van he had hope. But when he talked to his uncle he found out a tow truck brought it back a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie was lost when you left the hotel that day. He didn't know what to do with himself. He talked to Mel about ending the contract. But he found out the penalty for breaking it. The band would have to give up the rights to all the songs that they came up with. And he would have to pay a very hefty fine to the girls. He couldn't put the guys through that. So he held up his end of the contract.

All he had to do was deal with Ava.

One night before new years he was on the tour bus working on a song. Nothing was coming together. The words were shit. And his playing was the worst.

"Eddie? Can I talk to you?"

He looked up and saw Ava standing there.

" I don't want anything to do with you."

" Please. I just really want to apologize for everything."

Eddie scoffed and went back to writing.

" Look, I know what I did was wrong. And I'm really sorry about taking advantage of you. I didn't think it was going to get out."

" Well it did! You should have never been that close to me to begin with."

" I know. I just- I really like you okay. And sometimes I do stupid shit to get what I want. But just know that I honestly feel awful for how things went about. I know that your relationship was important-"

" It still is Ava! Y/n is my everything."

" I-I know. And I'm sorry. But Eddie... We're good together. We work great with one another. You're just so amazing that it's hard not to fall for a guy like you. I know that nothing I say can make you see me differently. But Eddie, we could be so good together. I…I can show you that I'm not really like the person you got to know. And now that y/n is out of the picture-"

Eddie put down his pen and stood up.

" I don't want to get to know you. I know enough. You are the ugliest person I have ever met. Yes the band works great together. But you and I. It's never gonna happen. I love y/n. I want to be with her and no one else. She and I will never be finished. You got that. I don't give a shit if you have real feelings for me or not. Because I fucking hate you. I don't care if you're a really nice person underneath it all. I don't care if you lived or died. And after we're done with this tour. I'm done with you. If I never see you again. It would still be too soon. So stay the hell away from me."

He pushed past her. When he did she grabbed his arm.

" Eddie please-"

He jerked his arm away and pointed his finger in her face.

" THAT IS THE LAST TIME YOU DO THAT! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME AGAIN! DON'T LOOK AT ME. DON'T TALK TO ME. DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ME."

Eddie stormed off and went to smoke a cigarette. He could hear Jan giving Ava shit about her talking to him. He should have been that firm with her from the beginning. He honestly never was so cruel to anyone. But she needed to know that she didn't have a place in his life.

After that Ava kept her distance. Eddie could still feel her eyes sometimes. But, she stayed away.

When the tour was finally over. Eddie went back to Hawkins for a little while. Though he was happy to be there. He found himself constantly looking out his window to your room. He wished he could go back to all the times he sat there watching you. Seeing you dance around or doing homework. He grabbed his acoustic guitar and started playing. All the happy memories with you ran through his mind.

🎵

Reminiscing now

It makes me wonder how

the distance that we had

Make these moments so sad

The emotions on my face

They can never replace

The moments that we shared

The endless amount of care

What's become of us?

The friendship that started

Now waters uncharted

I see your face inside my head

And all the happiness that lead

To where we were not so long ago

Bleeding hearts that show

I still hear your laugh

I still feel your love.

Our love

🎵

Eddie looked down at his guitar and wiped away his tears.

I miss you Angel.

" Hey son."

Eddie looked up and saw his uncle in the doorway.

" Sounds good."

Eddie gave him a thin lip smile.

Wayne went to sit on the bed next to him.

" Have you talked to her?"

Eddie shook his head.

" Do you want to?"

He nodded.

" Then call her."

"I can't."

" Why not?"

" I've hurt her too much."

Wayne sighed. " It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask that girl to kiss you."

" No it is. If I just said no to the booze it would have never happened. Y/n would still be with me."

" Son. Life is hard enough. I know drinking can be fun. But getting drunk happens. As long as it doesn't happen every damn day. That girl took advantage of you. You can't beat yourself up for that."

" Yes I can. I lost y/n because of it."

" You didn't lose her."

Eddie shook his head. " I did. She's not with me. She said she has feelings for someone else."

" Do you really believe that?"

" N-no. But she said it."

" That's because she didn't know what to do. Girls are like that sometimes. They say things they don't mean when they're hurting. Actually I think we all do. Not that it's right. But you backed her into a corner with the ring."

Eddie put down his guitar. " I don't know what to do."

" I think you both need sometime. To think. To figure out the next step. But want to know something?"

Eddie looked at his uncle.

" It's not over between you two. There's too much there for it to be."

Eddie looked out his window again.

" Just take your time. Work on yourself. There's a lot of growing to do. And there's a lot to take care of right now. So handle your business. And when the time comes. And trust me when I say this. Everything will work out in the end."

…

On New Year's Elio convinced you to go out. Though you didn't want to, you did. You needed to get out of your head for just one night.

You, Elio, and Billy went to a bar. You were wearing such a beautiful red dress that Billy practically drooled seeing you. You guys dance and drank. You were actually having a good time with your friends.

Billy went outside to smoke and you went to join him.

" Hey."

" Hey sweets."

" It's getting really rowdy in there."

" Yeah. People in this town go nuts for New Year's."

You laughed a little. When you started to hug yourself from the cold, Billy took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders.

" Thank you."

" Can't let you freeze sweets."

You smiled.

After a minute or so Billy saw you swaying to the song Take My breath Away.

He tossed his cigarette and grabbed your hand.

" Dance with me."

You nodded and put a hand on his shoulder as he put his free hand on your waist.

He rocked you back and forth. Spinning you around. Bringing you closer to him after.

" I'm really glad you came out."

You looked at him. " Me too."

There was a moment there where you just looked at each other.

Billy tucked your hair behind your ear. " You look beautiful y/n."

Feeling a little sad you rested your head on his shoulder.

" Thank you."

Billy wanted to kiss you. He wanted to spill his guts but then it started to snow.

You looked up as snowflakes fell on your face.

Billy had never seen you look so beautiful. When you looked back at him he smiled.

" You're a really good friend William. I'm so happy we met."

Billy sighed to himself. Friend.

When the song was over you pulled out of his arms. " Common. It's almost midnight."

You grabbed his hand and led him back inside.

As the countdown began Billy was trying to talk himself into kissing you. Maybe it would be too soon for that. But now Eddie wasn't in his way.

The countdown started. You and Elio started to count. Billy moved to face you two. He got closer and put a hand on your hip. You gave him a sweet smile. One came up so fast.

This is it. He thought. You moved closer to him and he leaned in.

" Happy New Years!" Everyone shouted.

Then you did it. You leaned in and kissed his cheek. Billy watched you pull away and give Elio a kiss on the cheek as well.

That hurt Billy. He thought you were gonna kiss him.

Elio saw a look in Billy's eyes. When you went to get more drinks for them, he got closer to talk him.

" You okay?"

Billy kept his eyes on you. "No."

" Want to talk about it?"

Billy rubbed his chin. "Uhh not right now."

While waiting for the drinks you thought about him. You hoped that his night was good. And that his new year would be wonderful.

Happy New Year Eds.

…

A month after the break up you were fast asleep. You just pulled a double shift at the restaurant and were completely exhausted. That Friday night was so busy, the only break you had was to pee and get something to drink. But the only thing that actually made the night was the amount of tips you left with.

You were suddenly woken up by Billy and Elio throwing themselves on your bed.

" What the-"

" Get up Hun."

" Yeah sweets. You can sleep when you're dead."

" I hate you both so much right now."

Elio smacked your bottom." Get your pretty ass up. We are going to the roller rink."

" Eww. Nope. Don't like that."

Elio got up and went to the closet to pull out an outfit for you. Billy laid down and started poking your side.

" Common sweets. Let's go have some fun."

" I'm tired William."

He pulled the blanket off of you and started to tickle your sides.

" Ahhhhh noooo!" You yelped, pushing his hands away.

He sat on top of you and pinned your hands on either side of your face. He smiled down at you.

"We're going. Even if I have to carry you out kicking and screaming."

" Oh please. You couldn't lift me."

He leaned in, getting closer to your face." Wanna bet."

For a second there. You felt something in his gaze. But you quickly brushed it off and rolled your eyes. Then all of a sudden Billy jumped off the bed and pulled you up. Tossing you over his shoulder.

Your eyes widened." Holy shit!"

" Just grab her shoes E. I got her." Billy said, smacking your bottom.

" You guys really need to stop smacking my ass. You'll give a girl the wrong idea."

Billy and Elio chuckled.

" Not our fault you got a nice ass Hun." Elio said following Billy to the car.

Once inside the rink you tied up your skates and went to the floor. Elio grabbed your hand and started spinning around. When he let you go you spun right into Billy's arms. You were a little dizzy and almost fell. But Billy had a firm hold on you.

You laughed for the first time in a month. The guys had missed that. Missed seeing you smile.

Billy held your hand as you guys skated around the rink. There were a few times there when you would lose your balance and Billy would grab ahold of you. His arms felt nice and he smelled really good.

Were you getting actual feelings for him? He was always there.

No. You thought.

You couldn't have feelings for Billy. Because you were still very much in love with him.

As the night went on, they took you out for pizza. For the first time in a whole month you felt okay. For a brief moment you forgot the sadness that had consumed every part of you. But as you reached for another slice of pizza your eyes fixed on the silver chain bracelet.

Suddenly you weren't so hungry anymore. You pulled your hand away and played with the bracelet.

The guys caught that. They exchanged looks and moved to sit on either side of you. Billy put a hand on the small of your back. Rubbing small circles with his thumb. You leaned into him while Elio grabbed your hand. Squeezing it gently.

You didn't say anything for the rest of the night. There was nothing to say. All you did was feel the pain in your heart. The feeling of sorrow and regret.

When you and Elio got back to your room you grabbed a notebook and started to draw. This one was different from the others. You started drawing a stage. You drew pillars on the sides draping them with black goo. You added some flames and stage lights. Adding a red dragon holding a guitar in its mouth on the very top of the stage. You drew small figures on the stage and a crowd looking up at them. Once you were finished with that one. You turned to a new page and drew a completely different stage. You kept doing that until you had a handful of pictures.

When Elio woke up the next morning he found you passed out with the book in your hands.

He scanned the pictures and shook his head. He ran his thumb across the words stage concepts. He didn't know why you did that. But he knew it wasn't helping you.

When you woke up, Elio was gone already. You went to the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked at your necklace. Then down to your hands. You closed your eyes as tears found them. Your lip quivered and your hands shook as you reached behind your neck and took off the necklace. You looked in the mirror again and wiped your tears away. You slide Eddie's ring and bracelet off. You grabbed the edge of the sink and hung your head.

" I need to not need you anymore." You said to yourself.

You went to your jewelry box and put the stuff in. You looked at all your pictures and picked each one of them up.

" I can't get better when I see you every morning and every night."

You sniffled and put them in the bottom drawer of your dresser. While sitting on your bed you looked out the window.

" I still want you…please wait for me."

You sat there for a while thinking about him. If he was okay. If he was taking care of himself.

Then Elio walked in with some coffee and donuts.

" Morning Hun."

" Morning."

Elio looked around your side of the room and noticed the pictures were gone. He set the stuff on the desk and came to sit with you.

" Are you okay?"

" I…I'm trying to be."

You both were quiet for a minute. Until you started to cry.

Elio held you and started rubbing your back.

" I miss him E. I miss him so much."

" I know Hun…I know."

…

Another month and you were getting better. You were finally getting better. Except at night. You would dream of him. You would dream of his smile. Of his laugh. Then you would wake up in tears. Elio would get up every time and hold you until you fell back asleep.

He didn't know what to do. He felt like you would always be like this.

That was until the following month. You stopped waking up like that. You still missed him and you still dreamt of him. But it got easier. Though you still hurt. That was the only way you could hear his voice. It was the only way you could see him.

One day the phone rang when you were in the bathroom getting ready for a night out with the guys.

Elio came to the door.

" Hey umm Jeff is on the phone."

You looked over and smiled. You went to the phone.

" Hello?"

" Hey!"

You let out a small laugh. " Hey Jeffy. How goes it?"

" It's good. I'm good. How are you?"

You looked at Elio and sat down.

You started fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. " Umm better."

" That's good. You sound better."

There was an awkward silence and Jeff knew what you wanted to ask.

" He's okay y/n. He's umm he's been focusing on the music."

" That's…that's good."

When it got quiet again, Jeff cleared his throat.

" Yeah. So umm the reason I called is, we're gonna be in Boston for a show next week."

" Really? That's cool."

" Yeah it's just us."

" Oh-okay."

" I uhhh. Was wondering if you would like to come?"

" O-oh…I-I. I don't-"

" I know that you guys aren't together. But you and I are still friends. And you're still friends with Gareth…we want to see you. I know…he would like to see you."

" I don't think-"

" Y/n you've always supported us. Even now. You still send me cards congratulating us on our new album and playing bigger venues….we really would like for you to come. Please."

You looked at your bottom drawer. You wanted to say yes. But you didn't want to backslide.

" I'm-I'm really sorry Jeff. I can't. I have a lot of work and school is hectic right now."

Jeff sighed. " Oh-okay. Well if you change your mind there will be three tickets for you and the guys at the ticket booth."

You guys were quiet again.

" I really am sorry Jeff."

" Me too."

" I'll- I'll talk to you later okay?"

" Yeah. Umm y/n?"

" Yeah?"

" Take care of yourself okay."

" I will."

" Bye. "

" Bye."

When you hung up Eddie looked at Jeff. Jeff just shook his head.

Eddie pressed his lips together, nodded and left. He went straight to a meeting. It's been three whole months and he hasn't picked up a drink. He wanted to. God he wanted to so badly. But he had to get better. Not just for his friends or for himself. But for you. To get you to trust him again. To get you back.

When you put the phone down Elio stood in front of you.

" What did he want?"

You looked up at him.

" He invited us to go see them in Boston.

"Oh...Do you want to go?"

You swallowed and looked back at the drawer. " It would be nice to see them again."

To see him.

" But?"

You sighed. " I don't know if I will be strong enough to handle seeing him."

Elio squatted in front of you and grabbed your hands. " Hun. You're doing so good now. You're finally laughing and smiling again. And I get that if it's too soon for you. Then it's fine to not go. But you'll never know if you are truly getting better if you can't even say his name. So let me ask you. Do you want to see Eddie?"

His name made your heart skip. Hearing it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

You smiled. " Yes E. I want to see Eddie."

Elio got serious. " Okay. But if it ever gets too much to handle. Just give us the word and we'll get the hell out of there."

You nodded." Okay."

When you told Billy about going to Boston to support the band, he instantly thought it was a bad idea. He was just starting to get closer to you. And he didn't want you to get hurt again.

The whole drive there, he couldn't shake this feeling that something bad was gonna happen.

You guys got to the arena and got your tickets. Jeff even got you guys backstage passes. You didn't want to be that close to the stage yet. Afraid being that close to it might be too much. So you guys went to your balcony seats and waited.

The lights went out and you heard Eddie open. Everyone was screaming his name as the light shined on him. He looked so good. But you could see he was wasn't as into it as he used to be.

He was rocking the shit out of that stage and you could see him trying to put on his best performance. But he didn't look at the crowd. He went to the mic and started to sing. You caught yourself singing along with him.

Elio and Billy watched you the whole time. Waiting to see if you needed them. But you didn't. You bobbed your head and swayed your hips to each and every song.

Billy was happy that you were ok. But a part of him wished you weren't. He felt bad for feeling that way. But he was in love with you. And he didn't want you to want anyone else.

When the show was over. You decided you wanted to go backstage and talk to your friends. Elio and Billy followed.

You saw Gareth first. He was signing autographs.

" Gare!"

When he looked up his eyes widened.

" Uhh excuse me." He said to a couple of fans.

He jogged to you and gave you the biggest hug.

" I thought you couldn't come."

" Yeah. I'm sorry. I should have called to say I could."

He let you go and looked you over. " Damn! You looked."

You giggled. " I feel good. You guys were awesome."

He chuckled and called Jeff over.

" Y/n?! Shit you came."

" Hi Jeffy." You said giving him a big hug too.

The guys said their hellos and you looked around for Eddie.

" Uhh he went to the bus. He said he had to change real fast." Gareth whispered in your ear while giving you another hug.

You looked at Elio and Billy. " Umm I'm gonna go find Eddie okay?"

" We'll come with you." Billy said.

" No. It's okay. I'll be fine."

Elio looked worried. " Are you sure?"

" Yeah. It will be okay. I can do this." You reassured them.

The guys nodded and watched you walk away.

You went out the back entrance and saw the bus. While taking a deep breath and started for it. You felt so nervous but really excited to see him. What were you gonna say?

You stopped when you got to the side of the bus and started practicing what you were going to do.

Should I hug him?...No. Not yet.

" Hey Eds."

You shook your head and tried that again.

" Hi Eddie. I'm uhh you guys were great."

You sighed.

" Hey Munson. Great show."

Yeah thats it.

You opened the door and climbed up the steps. You didn't see him right away so you announced yourself.

Your voice was low, almost a whisper " Eddie?"

You walked through the big vehicle and made it to the back room door. It was open just a crack. You heard shuffling and some grunting. You raised your hand to knock when you heard Eddie groaned. You should have left right then and there. But your curiosity got the better of you. You pushed the door a little and caught a sight that you weren't prepared for.

There was a long haired blonde girl on her knees sucking Eddie off. Your heart fell. Eddie's head was thrown back and his hand on the back of her head. You started backing away. But you ran into a closet knocking over something.

You looked down trying to catch whatever it was, but you weren't fast enough.

When you looked back up, Eddie's eyes were wide as you met them.

You quickly turned around and left.

" Y/n!" Eddie called after you.

He pushed the girl away and pulled up his pants.

He ran out of the room. Once he was off the bus he saw you heading for the door.

" Y/n please wait."

You tried so hard not to cry. All you could think about was that this was your fault. Eddie had moved on because you told him that you wanted someone else.

Eddie grabbed your arm. When you turned around he let you go.

" Y/n I can explain."

" N-no." You shook your head not looking at him. " It's…it's none of my business."

Eddie didn't know you were coming. If he had he would have kicked that girl out when he found her in the bus.

" Y/n it was nothing…I swear."

" No Eddie. It's fine. I-I just came to say hi. And that you did a great job."

Eddie knew you were hurt. He could hear it in your voice. He could feel it.

" Y/n please." He tried to get you to look at him. I-I didn't know-"

" It's fine. Really. I-I h-have to go. Umm Elio and Billy are waiting for me." You finally met his eyes." Take care of yourself…goodbye Eds."

Eddie's heart shattered watching you walk away from him again. What the fuck did he just do?

When you got back to the guys they immediately knew something was wrong.

You went straight to Billy. " Take me home."

He cupped your face and nodded. " Let's go."

He handed Elio the keys and sat in the back with you as you cried.

" What happened?"

" It's…it's all my f-f-fault. "

" What is? What happened? Please sweets... Please talk to me." Billy pleaded.

You shook your head. " H-h-he was with someone…. What …what have I done?"

Billy held you tighter. " You did do anything. Okay? What he did was his choice."

You cried hard." He moved on. He-he's gone now."

Billy wanted to kill Eddie for making you like this again. But all he could do was be there for you.

When you guys went back to the dorm you were all cried out. Billy and Elio helped you into bed. Before Billy could leave you grabbed his hand.

" Please stay."

The sad look in your eyes killed him.

He nodded and took off his jacket and shoes. Climbing into bed with you.

You fell asleep in his arms soon after.

Elio laid on his bed watching you two.

" Billy?" He whispered.

" Hmmm?"

" Promise me you won't hurt her like he did."

Billy looked over at Elio and whispered back. " I would never hurt her…I love her."

Elio laid back and looked up at the ceiling. " I know you do. But she's not ready yet."

Billy sighed and looked at you. Moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

" Hopefully one day she will be…until then. I will be here. Always."

...

@chloe-6123 @irishhappiness @idkidknemore @hiscrimsonangel @hellv1ra @browneyes528 @b-irock @erinsingalong @salenorona23 @eddie-is-a-god @screaming-blue-bagel

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