#fridge-art-nick

[fridge-art-nick]

One of my first digital animations, besides bouncing balls. There might have been other ones, but I cant remember. If I did though, I didn't save them. May the rest in pieces. o7

It was supposed to be them turning around to see that a vase broke, but I never finished it to see their reaction. I also couldn't tell what speed to have it in. He feels to fast, but the lines feel a tad too slow.

[turnaboutfix]

Maya moments before she tampers with a crime scene

[fazcinatingblog]

"who is the real marnus" sir, you're just begging me to write an essay using that question

[jeweljessec-fallout]

And more doodles! Things yet to happen/ dynamics/something from in game

[dolcegalante]

Heartstopper Happy Pride Magnet

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

matt sturniolo x reader

where the triplets and Y/N have a small 'coloring drawings date' back in Boston

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was a chilly Boston afternoon, and the cozy kitchen of the Sturniolo triplets' childhood home radiated warmth. The black and white marble counter was covered in a colorful array of pencils and printed drawings ready to be filled in.

Matt, Nick, Chris, and Y/N sat together, each absorbed in their masterpieces, while an assortment of completed drawings, taped with pride, decorated the fridge nearby - just like the one back in Los Angeles, creating a gallery of memories they'd crafted every time they came to Boston.

Y/N was nestled close to Matt, sharing a single pair of earphones that played their shared playlist, mix of indie tunes, and a few songs that made them laugh as they lip-synced together.

Every so often, Y/N would pause her coloring just to press a gentle kiss onto Matt's shoulder or cheek, and every time she did it, Matt’s face would light up with a shy smile, his hand instinctively reaching over to brush her fingers, squeezing them lightly before returning to his coloring.

Across the table, Nick was squinting at his drawing, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he carefully filled in the skin of the pokémons with a vibrant mix of yellows, blues and purples. Chris, with a look of intense focus, was working on an abstract swirl of colors, occasionally nudging Nick to make him mess up just a bit, causing laughter between them.

"Hey, don't mess with my work!" Nick huffed, shielding his paper from Chris, shooting him a dirty look. "Fucking moron."

Chris snorted.

"Oh, come on, Nick, I’m just adding some flair to it!" He laughed, his tone playful, but he left Nick’s drawing alone, deciding instead to lean closer to Y/N and Matt, peeking at their work, accidentally hitting some pencils to the floor. "What are you two coloring over there?" He teased, a soft smile on his face as he watched Y/N and Matt too close, almost blending into each other, the identical maroon sweaters disguising who was who.

Y/N grinned, lifting her drawing to show a sunset over mountains, shaded in soft pinks and oranges.

"It’s our little Boston sunset for the fridge gallery."

Matt smiled brightly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as he glanced at her drawing.

"It’s going to he the prettiest drawing in there, babe." He murmured, leaning down to place a quick, sweet kiss on her temple.

"You're so disgusting." Chris huffed, rolling his eyes playfully before going back to his own paper.

Y/N stuck her tongue out playfully in response, her eyes gleaming with a happiness that was contagious.

As the playlist continued, Matt and Y/N swapped colored pencils back and forth, murmuring softly to each other about which colors went best with the others.

After a while, Nick stood up, lowering his grey headphones, heading to the fridge, and scanning their growing gallery.

"Alright, let's see what new masterpieces we're adding today." Nick announced, carefully peeling off a piece of tape to stick Chris's vibrant butterfly next to his own pokémons drawing on the fridge door. "At this point, we’re not even gonna see the fridge anymore." He grinned, smoothing each piece into place with a bit of pride.

Without missing a beat, Chris turned to Matt and Y/N, an exaggerated impatience in his voice.

"C'mon, lovebirds, finish up so we can add your little sunset next to my work of art."

Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes as he passed a glance at Chris.

"If we’re being honest, yours doesn’t even deserve a spot." He muttered with a smirk, dodging Chris’s halfhearted swipe at him. "Oh, I'm gonna end you-"

"Boys, no fighting near the fridge!" Came Mary Lou’s voice from the couch in the other room. Both brothers froze, biting back laughter as they stood straight. Nick stifled a chuckle, sharing an amused look with Y/N, who shook her head at them all, her smile soft.

"Alright, Matt, focus." Y/N said, tugging him gently by his sweater sleeve to bring his attention back to the counter. "Before I finish this sunset all by myself."

Matt let himself be pulled down with a playful grin, settling beside her once more.

"Fine, fine." He relented, leaning in close, their heads nearly touching as they dove back into their coloring, whispering and swapping pencils as if the world outside didn’t exist.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

A/N: I had this idea after seeing Nick's stories yesterday, and I know it's an ass, but I liked the concept 😭✋🏻

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for q magazine, june 2011 (x) (x)

ARCTIC MONKEYS: Inside Alex Turner's Head

Words Sylvia Patterson Portrait John Wright

The day Arctic Monkeys moved into their six bedroom, Spanish-style villa in the Hollywood Hills, where the first-floor balcony looked over the patio swimming pool, they knew exactly what to do.

"From the balcony, you could get on t'roof and jump in't pool," chirps the Monkeys' most gregarious member, drummer Matt Helders, in his homely Yorkshire way. "We looked at it and said, That's definitely gonna happen. So by the end, we did a couple of 'em. Somersaults in t'pool, from the roof. At night time."

In January 2011, as Sheffield and the rest of Britain endured its bitterest winter in a century, Arctic Monkeys capered among the palm trees, eschewing hotels for a millionaire's Hollywood homestead as they recorded and mixed their fourth studio album, Suck It and See.

The four Monkeys, alongside producer James Ford and engineer James Brown, lived what they called the "American man thing": watched Super Bowl on giant TVs, played ping-pong, hired two Mustangs, cooked cartoon Tom And Jerry-sized steaks on barbecues on Sundays, had girlfriends over to visit, all cooking and drinking around the colossal outdoor kitchen area featuring a fridge and two dishwashers. Living atop the Hills, they could see the Pacific Ocean beyond by day, the infinite glittering lights of downtown LA by night.

Every day, en route to Sound City Studios, they'd travel in a seven-seater four-by-four through the mountains, via bohemian 60s enclave Laurel Canyon, blaring out the tunes: The Stones Roses, The Cramps, the Misfits' Hollywood Babylon. For the sometime teenage art-punk renegades whose guitarist, Jamie Cook, was once ejected from London's Met Bar for refusing to pay €22 for two beers, the comedy rock'n'roll life still feels, however, absolutely nothing like reality.

NICK O'MALLEY: "It were really as if we were on holiday. When we came back it's the most post-holiday blues I've ever had!"

JAMIE COOK: "It's hard to comment on that. It were just really good fun."

MATT HELDERS: "We always said, As soon as things like that feel normal, we're in trouble. But it's just funny. You might think it would get more and more serious as you get older but it's getting funnier. We've done four albums now and I'm still only 24, I'm still immature to an extent. So who cares?"

Alex? Al? Are you there?

ALEX TURNER: "Yeah, it were good times. But we were in the studio most of the time. So there's no real wild Hollywood stories. Hmn. Yeah."

Wednesday, 16 March 2011, Strongroom Bar, Shoreditch, East London, 11am. Alex Turner, 25, slips entirely alone into an empty art-crowd brasserie looking like an indie girl's indie dream boy: mop-top bouffant hair which coils, in curlicues, directly into his cheekbones, army-green waist-length jacket, baggy-arsed skinny jeans, black cord zip-up cardigan, simple gold chain, supermoon sized chocolate-brown eyes.

Almost six years after I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor became the indie-punk anthem of a generation (from the first of Arctic Monkeys' three Number 1 albums), and nothing prepares you for the curious phenomenon of Alex Turner "in conversation". Unlike so many of the Monkeys frenetic early songs, he operates in slow motion, seemingly underwater, carrying a protective shell on his back, perhaps indie rock's very own diamond-backed terrapin. The most celebrated young wordsmith in rock'n roll today talks fulsomely, in fact, only in shapeless, curling sentences punctuated with "maybe... hmn.. yeah", an anecdotal wilderness sketching pictures as vague as a cloud. He is, though, simultaneously adorable: amenable, gentle, graceful, and as Northern as a 70s grandpa who literally greets you with "ey oop?".

"People think I'm a miserable bastard," he notes, cheerfully, "but it's just the way me face falls." Still profoundly private, if not as hermetically sealed as a vacuum-packed length of Frankfurter, his fante-shy reticence extends not only to his personal life (his four-year relationship with It-girl/TV presenter Alexa Chung, whom he never mentions) but to insider details generally. Take the Monkeys’ Hollywood high jinks documented above: not one word of it was described by Turner. Before Q was informed by his other Monkey bandmates, Turner’s anecdotal aversion unfolded like this:

Describe the lovely villa you were in. AT: "Well... we certainly had a... good view."

Of what? AT: "Well, we were up quite high."

The downtown LA lights going on forever? AT: "I dunno. It was definitely that thing of getting a bit of sort of sunshine. Is it vitamin D? If you can get vitamin D on your record, you've got a bit of a head start. So we'd get up and drive to the studio."

What were you driving? AT: "Nothing... spectacular. But yeah, we'd drive up the studio, spend all day there and sort of, y know, get back. To be honest... we had limited time. So we spent as much time as possible kind of getting into it, like, in the studio.

So your favourite adventures were what? AT: "Well, they were really… minimal. We were working out there!"

Any nightclubs or anything, perhaps? AT: "You really want the goss 'ere, don't you?"

Yes, please. AT: "I could make some up. Nah!"

And this was on the second time of asking. It's perhaps obvious: Alex Turner, one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation (four Monkeys albums and two EPs in five years, The Last Shadow Puppets side-project, a bewitching acoustic soundtrack for his actor/video director friend Richard Ayoade's feature-length debut Submarine), is dedicated only to the cause – of being the best he can possibly be. He simply remembers the songs much more than the somersaults.

Throughout 2009, Arctic Monkeys toured third album Humbug – the record mostly made in the Californian desert with Queens Of The Stone Age man-monolith Josh Homme – across the planet. While hardly some cranium-blistering opus, its heavier sonic meanderings considerably slowed the Arctic Monkeys' live sets and on 23 August 2009, Q watched them headline the Lowlands Festival, Holland and witnessed a hitherto unthinkable sight – swathes of perplexed Monkeys fans trudging away from the stage. With the sludge rock mood matching their cascading dude-rock hair it seemed obvious: they'd smoked way too much outrageously strong weed in the desert.

"Heheheh, yeah," responds Turner, unperturbed. "That's your theory. You probably weren't alone."

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Turner's arm is now nonchalantly draped along the back of a beaten-up brown leather sofa. He ponders his band's somewhat contrary reputation…

"I think starting the headline set at Reading with a cover of a Nick Cave tune perhaps was a bit contrary. D'youknowhat Imean?! But to be honest, that summer, at those festivals, we had a great time. And I know some fans enjoyed those sets 10 times more. And you can't just do, y’know, another Mardy Bum or whatever. Because how could you, really?"

With Humbug, notes Turner, "I went into corners I hadn't before, because I needed to see what were there," but by spring 2010 he wanted their fourth album to be "more song-based" and less lyrically "removed". He was "organised this time", studied "the good songwriters" (from Nick Cave, The Byrds and Leonard Cohen to country colossi Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline), discovered "the other three strings" on his guitar, and wrote 12 songs through the spring and summer of 2010, mostly in the fourth-floor New York flat he shared with Chung before the couple moved back to London late last summer (the New York MTV show It's On With Alexa Chung was cancelled after two seasons). The result: major-key melodies, harmonised singing and classic song structures.

At the same time he revisited the opposite extreme: bands such as Black Sabbath and The Stooges ("we wanted a few wig-outs as well"); he was also still heavily influenced by the oil-thick grinder rock of Josh Homme, who is clearly now a permanent Monkeys hero. After four months' rehearsals in London, on 8 January the Monkeys relocated to LA for five swift weeks of production and Homme came to visit, singing backing vocals on All My Own Stunts. Tequila was involved.

"Tequila is probably me favourite," manages Turner, by way of an anecdote. "But it takes a certain climate... It's not the same... in the rain. Yeah. [Looks to be contemplating a lyric] Tequila in the rain."

Vocally, he developed the caramel richness first unveiled on The Last Shadow Puppets' Scott Walker-esque The Age Of The Understatement, finding a crooner's vibrato. "Everything before was so tight,” he notes, clutching his neck. "Probably just through nerves. That's just not there any more." Suck It and See contains at least four of the most glittering, sing-along, world-class pop songs (and obvious singles) of Arctic Monkeys' career: the towering, clanging She's Thunderstorms, the summertime stunner The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala, the heavenly harmonised title track and the Echo & The Bunnymen-esque jangly pop of closer That's Where You're Wrong.

Elsewhere, in typically contrary "fashion", there's preposterous head-banger bedlam (Brick By Brick, the rollicking faux-heavy rock download they released in March "just for fun", featuring vocals by Helders; Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair, and Library Pictures). News arrives that the first single proper will be Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair. Q is perplexed. Brilliantly titled, certainly, but arriving after Brick By Brick, the new album will appear to the planet as some comedy pastiche metal album for 12-year-old boys.

You've got all these colossal, summery, indie-pop classics and you've gone for... The Chair? AT: [Laughing uproariously] "The Chair! I'm now calling it The Chair, that's cool. Well for once it weren't even our suggestion. It was Laurence's (Bell, Domino label boss). And I were, Fucking too right! He's awesome. It'd be good to get a bit of fucking rock'n'roll out there, won't it? It's riffs. It's loud. It's funny."

If you don't release The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala as a single I'm going round Domino to kick Laurence's "awesome" butt. AT: "I think it'll be the next one!"

The record's title, meanwhile, could've been more enigmatically original than the un-loved phrase Suck It and See. The band, struggling with ideas due to the opposing sonic moods, invented an inspiration-conjuring ruse: to think of new names for effects pedals in the style of Tom Wolfe, Turner being long enamoured with the American author's legendarily psychedelic books The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby, "cos that just sounds awesome".

"There's the Big Muff pedal," he elaborates, "That’s the classic. I've got the Valve Slapper. And there's the Tube Screamer. So we came up with the Thunder Suckle Fuzz Canyon. And… wait till I assemble it in me mind… em… it'll come to me… The Blonde-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap. So we were going for summat like that."

A wasted opportunity?

"Nah. Because some of those things ended up in the lyrics anyway. Suck It and See was just easier."

Alex Turner, rock'n'roll's premier descriptive art-poet, still writes his lyrics long-hand in spiral-bound notebooks. "Writing lyrics is a craft that I've practised a bit now," he avers. "In me notebook it looks like sums. Theories. There's words and arrows going everywhere. There's always a few possibilities and I write the word 'OR' in a square."

For our most celebrated colloquial sketch-writer of the everyday observation (all betting pencils, boy slags and ice-cream van aggravations) the more successful he becomes, the less he orbits the ordinary. "I'm not struggling with that, to be honest," he decides. "In fact I'm enjoying writing lyrics much more than I did. Stories. Describing a picture. Um. There's quite a bit of weather and time in this one. Which is probably not reassuring. 'Oh God, he's writing about the weather.' Maybe leave that out!"

There are also some direct, funny, romantic observations: "That's not a skirt, girl, that's a sawn-off shotgun/And I only hope you've got it aimed at me..." (from the title track).

Some of your romantic quips, now, must be about Alexa. AT: "Right. Yeah. Definitely. Well... there's always been that side to our songs, when we weren't writing about... the fucking taxi rank. It's kind of inevitably... people you're with." [At the mention of Chung's name, Turner is visibly aggrieved, head sliding into his neck, terrapin-esque indeed.]

It must have been very grounding being in a proper relationship through all this madness. Because if you weren't, girls would be jumping all over your head. AT: "Em. Hmn. Well, of course that helps you to... I don't really know.. what the other way would be."

Does Alexa wonder if the lyrics are about her? AT: "Oh there's none of that. Yeah, no, there's no looking over the shoulder."

She must be curious, at least. "Maybe."

Did you ever watch Popworld? AT: [Nervous laughter] "Em! Now and again."

Did you ever see the episode where she helps Paul McCartney write a song about shoes? AT: "Ah, yeah I think so, maybe I did see that."

Well, if I was you, I'd have been thinking, "She's the one for me." AT: "Well. Yeah... maybe that would've... sealed the deal! Hmn. But maybe that wasn't when i got the ray of light. When was? Nah [buries head in hands]. I might have to go for a cigarette..."

Q can't torture him any more and joins him for a snout. Turner smokes Camels from a crumpled, sad, soft-pack and resembles a teenager again. As early song You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me says, "Never tenser/Could all go a bit Frank Spencer…”

In January 2006, when Arctic Monkeys' Number 1 album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not became the fastest-selling debut in UK history, inadvertently redefining the concept of autonomy and further imploding the decimated music industry (& wasn't their idea to be "the MySpace band", it was their fans': the Monkeys merely kick-started viral marketing by giving away demos at gigs), the 19- and 20-year-old Monkeys were terrible at fame. They weren't so much insurrectionary teenage upstarts as teenage innocents culturally traumatised by the peak-era fame democracy.

To their generation (born in the mid-'80s) fame was now synonymous with some-twat-off-the-telly a world of foaming tabloid hysteria where renown and celebrity meant, in fact, you were talentless. Hence their interview diffidence and receiving awards via videos dressed up as the Wizard OfOz and the Village People. Which only, ironically, made them even more celebrated and famous. (“That were a product of us just trying to hold onto the reins," thinks Turner today. "Being uncooperative.")

Q meets The Other Three one morning at 11am, in the well-appointed, empty bar of the Bethnal Green, Bast London hotel they're staying in (all three live in Sheffield, with their girlfriends, in their own homes). First to arrive is the industrious, sensible and cheerful Helders, crunching into a hangover-curing green apple. He has recovered from last year's boxing accident at the gym, which left his broken arm requiring a fitted plate. Now impressively purple-scarred, the break felt "interesting" and the doctor couldn't resist the one-armed drummer jest: "D'you like Def Leppard?"

Currently enjoying an enduring bromance with Diddy, he still doesn't feel famous, "it just doesn't feel that real, there's no paparazzi waiting for me to trip up." He and Turner, during the four-month rehearsals last year, became an accomplished roast dinner cooking duo for the band. "I reckon we could have us our own cookbook," he beams. "Pictures of us stirring, with a whisk."

O'Malley, an agreeable, twinkly-eyed 25-year-old with a strikingly deep voice and a winningly huge smile, is still coyly embarrassed by the interview process. A replacement for the departed original bass player Andy Nicholson in May 2006, he went from Asda shelf-filler to Glastonbury headliner in 13 months and still finds the Monkeys "a massive adventure". His life in Sheffield is profoundly normal – he's delighted that his new home since last October has an open-hearth fireplace: "Me parents had electric bars." He has also discovered cooking. “I’m just a pretty shit-hot housewife, most of the time," he smiles. "I cook stews, fish combinations, curries, chillies. I made a beef pho noodle soup the other day, Vietnamese, I surprised meself, had some mates round for that."

Recently, at his dad's 50th birthday bash, the party band, made up of family and friends, insisted he join them onstage "for ...The Dancefloor. So I were up there [mimes playing bass, all sheepish] and it were the wrong pitch, they didn't know the words or 'owt, going, Makin eyes... er..." He has no extra-curricular musical ambitions. "I'm happy just playing bass," he smiles. "I've never had the skill of doing songs meself. It'd be shit!"

Cook, 25, is still spectacularly embarrassed by the interview process. He perches upright, with a fixed nervous smile, newly shorn of the beard and ponytail he sported in LA: "Rockin' a pone, yeah, because I could get away with it." With his classic preppy haircut and dapper green military coat (from London's swish department store, Liberty), he looks like a handsome '40s film star. (Turner deems Cook "the band heartbreaker" and had a word with him post-LA: "I said to him, Come on, mate, you've got to get that beard shaved off. Get the girls back into us. Shift some posters.")

His life in Sheffield is also profoundly normal. He still plays Sunday League football with his local pub team, The Pack Horse FC (position, left back), remains in his long-term relationship with page-three-model-turned-make-up-artist Katie Downes and "potters about" at home, refusing to describe said home, "cos I'll get burgled".

A tiler by trade, he always vowed, should the Monkeys sign a deal, that he'd throw his trowel in a Sheffield river on his last day of work. "I never did fling me trowel," he confirms. "Probably still in me shed." He's never considered what his band represents to his generation. "I'd go insane thinking about it, I'm pretty good at not thinking about it… Oh God. I'm terrible at this!"

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Alex Turner is cloudily describing his everyday life. "I just keep meself to meself," he confounds. He mostly stays indoors and his perfect night in with Alexa is "watching loads of Sopranos. And doing roast dinners".

No longer spindle-limbed, he attends a gym and has handsomely well-defined arms – "You have to look after yourself."

Suddenly, Crying Lightning from Humbug rumbles over the bar stereo. "Wow. How about that? I was quite happy the other morning cos Brick By Brick were on the round-up goals on Soccer AM. It's still exciting when that happens. It was like Brick By Brick is real."

He spends his days writing music, "listening to records", and recommends Blues Run The Game by doomed '60s minstrel Jackson C Frank ("who's that lass?... Laura Marling, she did a cover recently), a simple, acoustic, deep and regretful stunner about missing someone on the road.

Lyrically, he cites as an example of greatness the Nick Cave B-side Little Empty Boat [from ‘97 single Into My Arms ], a comically sinister paean to a sexual power struggle: "Your knowledge is impressive and your argument is good/But I am the resurrection babe and you're standing on my foot."

"I need a hobby," he suddenly decides. "I'd like to learn another language." Since his mum is a German teacher (his dad teaches music), surely he can speak some German? "I know how to ask somebody if they've had fun at Christmas." Go on, then. "Nah!"

Where Turner's creative gifts stem from remains a contemporary rock'n'roll mystery; he became a fledgling songwriter at 16, after the gift of a guitar at Christmas from his parents. An only child, did his folks, perhaps, foresee artistic greatness? "I doubt it!" he balks. "Cos I didn't. I wasn't... a show kid." Like the others, he doesn't analyse the past, or the future.

"You can't constantly be thinking about what's happened," he reasons, "it's just about getting on with it." The elaborate pinky ring he now constantly wears, however, a silver, gold and ruby metal-goth corker featuring the words DEATH RAMPS is a permanent reminder of he and his best friends’ past. The Death Ramps is not only a Monkeys pseudonym and B-side to Teddy Picker, but a place they used to ride their bikes in Sheffield as kids.

"Up in the woods near where we lived," he nods. "Just little hills. But when you're eight years old they're death ramps." The ring was custom made by a friend of his, who runs top-end rock'n'roll jewellery emporium The Great Frog near London's Carnaby Street. Ask Turner why he thinks the chase between his writing and speaking eloquence is quite so mesmerisingly vast and he attempts a theory.

"Well, writing isn't the same as speaking," he muses. "Not for me. I seem to struggle more and more with... conversation. Talking onstage... I can't do it any more. Hmn. I'll have to work on that."

The ever-helpful Helders has a better theory.

"Since he's been writing songs," he ponders, “It seems like he’s always thinking about that. So even when he’s talking to you now, he’s thinking about the next thing that rhymes with a word. Even when he’s driving. We joke he’s a bad driver, his focus is never 100 per cent on what he’s doing. Which is good for us cos it means he’s got another 12 songs up his sleeve. I think music must be the easiest way for him to be concise and get everything out. Otherwise his head would explode.”

The Shoreditch.com photo studios, 18 March. Alex Turner, today, is more ethereally distracted than ever, transfixed by the studio iPod, playing Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, a version of I’d Rather Go Blind. Occasionally, he’ll completely lose his conversational thread, “Um. I’ve dropped a stitch.”

The first to arrive for Q’s photoshoot, he greets his incoming bandmates with enormous hugs (and also hugs them goodbye). Today, Q feels it’s pointless poking its pickaxe of serious enquiry further into Turner’s vacuum-packed soul and wonders if he’ll play, instead, a daft game. It’s called Popworld Questions, as first posed by someone he knows rather well.

“Oh, OK. Let’s do it,” he blinks, now perched in an empty dressing room. He then vigorously shakes his head, “Um…I’ve gotta snap back into it.”

Here, then, are some genuine “Alexa Chung on Popworld” questions (2006-2007), as originally posed to Matt Willis, Amy Winehouse, Robbie Williams, Pussycat Dolls, Kaiser Chiefs and Diddy.

Why do indie bands wear such tight jeans? AT: “Um. I supposed they do. They haven’t always. When we first were playing I was definitely in flares. You need to be quite tall to get the full effect, though. So, that's why this indie band wears such tight jeans, cos we've not got the legs for flares."

What makes you tick in the sexy department? AT: "Wow. Pass. What do I find most attractive in a woman? Something in the head? That's definitely a requirement. Well... Hmn. I'm struggling."

Tell us about all the lovely groupies. AT: "No!"

If dogs had human hands instead of paws, would you consider trying to teach them to play the piano? AT: "Absolutely. I'd teach Hey Jude."

How many plums d'you think you can comfortably fit in one hand? AT: "They're not very big. [Holds small, pale, girly hand up for inspection] It's a shame. Probably three. Diddy only managed two? Maybe not then. I can carry a lot of glasses at once, though. If they're small ones I can do four."

Are you cool? AT: "Not as much as I'd like to be. There's this clip where Clint Eastwood is on a talkshow and he gets asked, Everybody thinks of you as defining cool, what d'you think about that? And he gets his cigs out, takes one out, flicks it into his mouth, lights it and says, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Here, Turner locates his Camels soft-pack and attempts to do a Clint Eastwood. He flicks one upwards towards his mouth. And misses. Flicks another. And misses. "Third time lucky?" He misses. "I'll get it the next time." And succeeds. "Hey. Fourth time. Don't put that in! So there you go. I'm four steps away from where I wanna be."

Thank you very much for joining me here on Popworld, here's my clammy hand again. There it is, let it slip, hmmn. You can let go now. AT: "OK! Were you a Popworld fan, then? It was funny. Cool. What were we talking about, before?"

Blimey, Alex. What must you be like when you're completely stoned out of your head? AT: "Stoned? What d'you mean, cos I seem like that anyway? Yeah. A lot of people... tell me I'm a bit... dreamy. But I like the idea of that. Of being somewhere else."

Two days earlier, Turner had contemplated what he wanted from all this, in the end. Many seconds later he gave his deceptively ambitious answer.

"I just wanna write better songs," he decided. "And better lyrics. I just definitely wanna be good at it. Hmn. Yeah.”

—

RUFUS BLACK: AKA Matt Helders, on his ongoing bromance with Diddy

Matt Helders has known preposterous rap titan Diddy since they met in Miami in 2008. “He goes, Arctic Monkeys! Then he said summat about a B-side and I was like, He's not lying! I just thought, This is funny, I'm gonna go with this for a while." Last October Diddy texted Helders, suggesting he play drums with his Diddy Dirty Money band on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, to give his own drummer a day off. “I were bowling with me girifriend at the time. In Sheffield, on a Sunday." On the day of recording, says Helder, "We had a musical director. That were one of the maddest times of my life. Next day Diddy said, Why don't you just stay? Come along with me. So I went everywhere with him." Diddy had "a convoy of cars" and made sure Helders was always in his. "He'd stop his car and go, Where's Matt? You're coming with me! So I'd get in his car. Just me, him, his security, driver." Diddy, by now, had given him a pseudonym - Rufus Black. "He kept saying, I don't wanna fuck up your image. And I'm, I don't think it's gonna do me any harm!" He stayed in Diddy's spectacularly expensive hotel. Some weeks later, Helders almost returned to the Dirty Money drumstool for a gig in Glasgow. "But we were rehearsing in London. I were like, I might come, how are you getting there? And he were like, Jet. Jump on t’jet with me. But I had to stay in Bethnal Green instead.”

Love’s young dream: Diddy (left) with Helders

[dean-a-mean-tae]

Babies? | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

Request: "If you don’t mind, I want some crack. Nicholas asking OT8 for a baby 😭"

WARNINGS: I don't know. This was a field day ;-; Chewy is Nicholas' cat

Nicholas Ross Master List | ?Reaction style?

Scenario

Nicholas was scrolling through TikTok and found a video of a baby. Her chubby cheeks and big brown eyes shined in the camera. He cooed as he listened to her giggles. Could you imagine a baby running around?

Holy shit, this is what baby fever is like.

Nicholas quickly hopped off the counter, almost taking a salt shaker down, and ran out of the kitchen. Sitting in the living room was the member he was looking for.

"I want a baby."/"Give me a baby."

BANG CHAN "I want a baby."

Chan froze. A baby? Why are we thinking about babies? He has enough kids to look after and those kids can't have kids. Not yet, anyway. Nicholas of all of them? He's not mentally prepared for that.

He shook his head as he went back to his journal. "We have Jeongin and Felix."

LEE MINHO "I want a baby."

"Don't you have Chewy?" The response was immediate, and Minho hadn't looked away from the TV. He heard Nicholas huff and paused his show.

"Why would you want a kid? You are a kid," Minho groaned, rolling his eyes as Nicholas flopped next to him. The younger boy shrugged, shoving his phone into Minho's face.

"Okay, that baby is cute, but still no."

SEO CHANGBIN "I want a baby"

He choked on his water. One of his members. A child, a toddler, a baby! One of them just asked for a baby.

"You're a baby!" Changbin yelled, chucking the now-closed water bottle at Nicholas. The bottle made a loud thud as it hit the wall, completely off track from Nicholas. He continued, "Babies shouldn't be having babies!"

"But they're cute," Nicholas whined, trying to show Changbin the video. Emphasis on trying. Changbin shoved the phone away and onto the floor.

"No!"

HWANG HYUNJIN "Give me a baby"

Hyunjin continued his art piece. He was painting an eye hidden in a sunset. Nicholas huffed. It was like he didn't hear him.

"How?"

So he did hear him. Hyunjin was just ignoring him. Rude. Nicholas walked behind him to watch him paint. "I don't know. You'll find a way."

"You're the one who wants a baby. You find a way," Hyunjin argued, shrugging his shoulders as he looked back at Nicholas.

"That is a very difficult task," Nicholas huffed, and Hyungjin hummed before continuing his painting, silently dismissing Nick.

HAN JISUNG "I want a baby"

Jisung hummed in thought as he paused his show. After a moment, he patted the spot next to him, and Nicholas sat down. The two stared at each other before Jisung smiled at him. "I want one, too. Where do we find one?"

This isn't how Nicholas imagined this conversation going. "What?"

"Where do we find one?" Jisung repeated. Felix happened to be walking into the living room, and Jisung called out, "Felix, help!"

LEE FELIX (Read Jisung's part)

"What's wrong?" Felix asked, pausing in the middle of the living room.

"We want a baby," Nicholas answered. Felix tilted his head in thought before sitting next to Nicholas.

"We can adopt one," Felix grinned. This is definitely not how Nicholas imagined this conversation going.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, peeking over the couch in the hallway. Any of the members could hear them scheming for a child.

"You're the one who wants one. Are you sure?" Felix asked. The two stared at each other before Nicholas got up.

Running out of the hallway, Nicholas shouted, "I'm too young for children!"

KIM SEUNGMIN "Give me a baby"

Seungmin lay on the couch, looking at something on his phone. He sighed. Every day was something new. Yesterday, Jisung convinced Nicholas to buy two plushies half the size of their fridge.

Today, Nicholas wants a child.

"No," Seungmin mumbled, and Nicholas whined. Seungmin ignored him and continued scrolling. Feeling eyes on him, Seungmin peeked around his phone and looked directly at a pouting Nicholas.

"Even if I wanted to, that's physically impossible," He groaned, looking back at his phone. He heard Nicholas huff before the older boy sat on the floor next to him.

"You're right," Nicholas sighed.

YANG JEONGIN "Give me a baby"

Jeongin's head snapped toward Nicholas, and the taller boy flinched. Jeongin blinked once, then twice. "What?"

"Give me a baby."

"How am I supposed to give you one?!" Jeongin screeched, leaning on his knees. Nicholas shrugged as he sat next to him.

"Figure it out."

"I'm too young to have a baby," Jeongin huffed, and Nicholas nodded in agreement.

"Me too," He sighed.

"Then why ask for one?!"

"I wanted to know how you'd react," Nicholas shrugged before leaving for the kitchen.

Nicholas Ross Master list | ©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, @mynameisnotlaura, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

[fandomsoverlife]

Tangerine x sweet!gn reader headcanons

Authors note: I watched bullet train and have noticed the fanfic department is lacking, here is my lackluster take on possibly slightly ooc Tangerine with a sweet gender neutral partner. And also bookstore meet cute, sorry I don’t make the rules.

~

- Tangerine didn’t expect himself to be locked down and in a relationship. He was always out and about, looking over his shoulder, getting bloodstains out of his shirts, and hoping for the best.

- he found you at a bookstore though, perusing the aisles and holding a stack too big for two arms, which he immediately found cute

- it wasn’t until you’d reached for another book that your whole pile came down and he found himself helping you out, stacking the books up carefully into your arms but then deciding to walk with you and help you carry your load to the till when you’d found the book you were reaching for

- he asked you to get a cup of tea with him almost immediately, surprising even himself when the question slipped his lips

- every date you went on, he asked about a different book from the ones he had seen in your stack

- and he kept it classy too, sweet little dates with no overbearing physical contact

- after your cup of tea he had taken you to an art museum, and then to a butterfly garden, and then to a lovely little picnic in a very secluded part of a park where you’d jumped his bones and let him have you against a picnic blanket during sunset (quite a charming first time)

- he didn’t tell Lemon about you until the picnic incident had happened, when he’d called him the next morning after you had left his home

- he lied to you for the first three months of going out, about his job and what he was doing every time he left

- the guilt ate him away at the insides, every time he’d look into your shining eyes, wide with adoration and trust, and when he kissed you goodbye

- when he came clean it was after a hard job. Lemon narrowly escaped death and he himself was doing pretty bad

- he came to your home and knocked on your door, hugging you tight and whispering that he wasn’t who he said he was and he was so sorry

- when you pulled away and looked up at him, laughing, he was scared.

“Why are we laughing when I’ve just told you I’m a contract killer, love?”

“It’s funny because you thought I didn’t know something was wrong. I figured out the crime a long time ago.”

- it turns out using a code name and going on frequent business trips that mar you with bruises leaves a little bit up to question

- he is grateful you’re understanding

- treats you like you’re a prize and he’s never won before in his life

- dotes on you constantly in his own way

- acts annoyed when you forget a jacket but he’s shrugging his own the second he sees you shiver, before you can mention being cold

- you don’t go to the gas station anymore, your tank is always filled the second it gets below half full. You don’t even have to say anything, he just checks.

- your favorite snack is always in his cabinet, your favorite drink in his fridge

- pet names galore

- bird, pretty, love, sweetheart, babe, poppet

- he will steal things for you, completely “accidentally” sometimes - the things he nicks just happen to be something you’d like.

- loves to hear you talk about whatever interests you

- is not great at saying how he feels out loud

- his affection is more physical

- hand on the lower back in a crowd, clasped in yours as you walk down the street, pulled into his side if it’s dark or chilly

- he likes to watch you get ready in the mornings

- will not let you shave his face and/or trim his mustache

- will let you play with his hair at any point

- will give you shoulder rubs

- when you finally meet lemon, tangerine is a little floored when he sees how well you get on

- he’s not too happy when you both get to teasing at him the way he does to everyone

- he is happy the person he loves makes everyone else just as happy as they make him

[pepsiboyy]

beyond the contract - part 4

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader summary: where the sturniolo triplets are part of an organization known as the eclipse alliance, matt has constantly failed to pull through with pulling the trigger on a target. fed up, their boss gives matt one last chance, where he is sent to northside high school to get some answers out of a girl. warnings: cursing, mentions of drugs and a lot of mafia shit??, some smooches rahh author's note: HI FRIENDS!!! lots of important context in this chapter, i hope it's a good one <3 back to reader pov next chapter!! some fun sibling banter too yayyy also yes i Did delete this chapter on accident after LITERALLY FINISHING IT. :D WC: 2024 (lol xd) lowercase intentional !!

i couldn't help but allow my gaze to linger across matt's features as he kept his eyes on the road, a hand on the wheel and the other on his own leg.

matt seemed to pick up on this as he turned to face me, his eyebrows furrowed. "what's your deal?" he smiled.

"where are you taking me?" i questioned.

matt and i were having our first date today. it had been about a week since he asked me that night at the pond.

"uhh, well.." matt trailed off. "i don't like crazy stuff, i could only think of more chill stuff, so…" he trailed off.

"soo..?" i continued for him and smiled as he shot me a joking death glare.

"we're going to an art museum?" he stated, but it was more of a question as he turned to me for half a second and back at the road.

i gasped and clasped my hands together. "i've never really been to one!" i chuckled as i looked out the window at the trees passing by.

matt just smiled softly to himself as he continued to drive. he really hadn't been to one either, but he knew that wherever you two went, it would be a fun time.

-

"where's matt?" chris called to nick from the kitchen.

nick was laying against their couch, his eyes glued to his phone. while they had a lot to do, he needed the break more than anything. he scrolled through his phone as he let out a deep sigh. "i don't know, chris, he's probably out getting tutored. or his dick sucked or something."

"ew, nick," chris muttered as he opened the fridge and grabbed a pepsi, moving to take a seat on the couch as well. "gross."

they sat in silence for a few moments before chris cleared his throat and turned to nick. "i talked with the coordinator the other day," he breathed, and nick immediately dropped his phone and gave chris his full attention. he nodded his head at him with wide eyes as if to say, 'go on.' chris let out a deep sigh as he messed with his hair. "it.. didn't really go well. we need to break the news to matt soon. or else.." he trailed off.

"or else what?" nick muttered, before he sat up from his previous laying down position to look at chris. "what, chris?" he repeated, shifting to be directly in front of the younger's face.

chris immediately shoved him out from in front of him. "no need to be so close, god," he muttered before he shrugged. "he said he'd complete the mission himself." he stated.

nick blinked a few times before he let out a deep sigh. he leaned back against the couch as they both stared at the ceiling.

"nick… how did we get into this situation?" he questioned, almost as a whisper as he turned to the oldest triplet. "to be completely honest, i don't really know why we're doing this all. i just want to be with my brothers. but it doesn't make sense to me. why are we killing people, why are we kicking up dirt on people and.. why are we getting each other involved so severely? we both know matt wants nothing to do with it, and i'm not entirely sure i want to be involved either." he trailed off, and nick simply listened to him.

"it's… a long story." he stated softly, but his eyes closed.

"i have time." chris stated firmly, sitting up to listen to nick.

"okay well, are you gonna interrupt me every five seconds? that'll make this five hours longer than it needs to be." nick spat, but chris only cracked a smile.

"no, just get to it kid," he responded as he took a sip of his pepsi.

nick took a deep breath before starting. "well, as you know, the eclipse alliance prioritizes discipline, order within ranks, and most of all, loyalty. the alliance was established decades ago amongst a few teenagers who seeked power, wealth and control. they got this tightly knit group and developed a hierarchy structure. with their goal to expand their influence, the alliance grew rapidly. this caused them to expand to various legal enterprises including smuggling, extortion, drug trafficking, and money laundering-"

"nick, stop with the big words, bro. i understood maybe half of what you just said." chris stated blankly, but he was clearly interested in the topic.

nick rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "anyways. we got involved with eclipse alliance because.. well.. we had financial struggles growing up," nick stated bluntly, shrugging as he stared into space in front of him. considering they lived from ten onward without parents, nick took initiative at a young age to try and keep him and his brothers stable. "since around when i had joined eclipse alliance, black veil operations emerged as a challenger to us. their logo is a silhouette of a woman with a veil and a growing flame behind it." nick stopped to take a soft breath before continuing. "they were fueled by the desire to trial their dominance and establish themselves as a rival power." nick took a deep breath as he looked at chris, who was listening closely. "while eclipse alli-"

brrr.

nick cringed at chris, who let out probably the most disgusting burp known to man. "can you fucking listen?" he spat, and chris immediately threw his hands up and pointed at his pepsi. after a few moments, nick continued. "while eclipse alliance prioritizes hierarchy, order and loyalty, black veil operations takes a more decentralized approach to their operations. they're known for their cunning tactics, flexibility, and willingness to exploit weakness within their rivals, which is us." chris nodded along. "they're determined to undermine the eclipse alliance's power and expand their own influence by using any means necessary."

chris stared at nick and slowly nodded before blinking a few times. "i see. i guess." he thought for a few moments before he shrugged. "i don't know, i think people need to let go of grudges."

nick chuckled and stood up. "what i'm saying. but i did what i could to get us to where we are today. even if it means risking my life, or.. ours, now." he shrugged.

chris nodded and smiled. "thanks for explaining to me, nick."

-

no pov.

the sun had began to set, and matt was now driving home with y/n in his car. when he pulled up in front of your house and noticed the empty driveway, he cocked an eyebrow. "business trip?"

you smiled and nodded to him, shrugging as you began to get out of the car.

matt quickly followed and got out with you.

your first date was great. matt felt like he had an amazing time with you. he loved the way your hand felt in his, like they perfectly molded together. but now it was time for matt's plan to end the night. he smiled at you as he bit his lip, expression clearly nervous.

you seemed to quickly pick up on this and spoke up, "you okay? what's got you so nervous?" she questioned, and matt internally cursed at himself.

"i uhh. got you something? but don't be weird about it." he breathed as he watched you stare blankly at him. fuck, he felt so shy. this was the worst moment to start kicking himself in the ass. "can you uhh.. turn around?" he chuckled nervously when you looked at him confused before you obeyed and turned around, moving your hands over your eyes.

matt bit his lip as he pulled a few things out from his car.

"y- you can turn around now," he stammered.

you did just that, and upon turning around, your jaw dropped.

matt had a small posterboard with "PROM?" written on it, and a bouquet of flowers in one hand that held the sign while his other just held it tightly.

"you're such a dork," you whispered as you smiled and stepped towards him, carefully taking the bouquet of flowers to relieve him of awkwardly holding them with the poster.

"i know you really wanted to go to prom, and… i don't, but. if it'll make you happy," he trailed off, and tried to bite back a smile as he watched you smile in awe at him.

"i'd love to." you responded.

matt smiled warmly at you. his heart was racing. to get answers out of this girl, did he need to ask her to prom? no. but did he really, genuinely care about this girl and what she truly wanted? yes.

they stared at each other for a few moments as matt put his arms down, letting the sign sit at his feet. he hadn't even realized how close together you guys were now, standing between his car and the curb.

you both smiled at each other, you faces both a shade of pink.

how could this girl have any ties with black veil operations, matt thought to himself. she was an innocent girl, a beautiful innocent girl. a sweetheart. his internal dialogue rambled, but it immediately came to a halt when he felt your lips press against his.

his eyes widened for a moment before they fluttered shut and he felt his hands subconsciously move to your waist.

when you pulled away, matt stared at you for a few moments, his eyes wide, and yours were just as wide.

just as you were about to apologize for the action, matt gently squeezed your hand.

"wanna come inside for a bit?" you asked, and matt felt his stomach turn.

-

chris groaned as he turned to the clock beside him. matt was supposed to be home an hour ago. he sighed as he set his headset down and carefully picked up his phone, pulling up matt's contact and shooting him a text.

chris:

hey wya??

-

matt allowed a soft groan to leave him upon feeling a hand of yours run up his side and gently along his back.

'wanna come inside for a bit' led to you both against your living room couch with matt on top of you.

matt gently ran a hand down your side and tucked it under the hem of your shirt, his cheeks burning pink as he stopped.

the way you smiled against his lips and parted your own softly gave him enough permission to gently tuck his fingers under the hem.

matt couldn't help but glance down at the now exposed skin under your shirt before an inked spot on your skin caught his eye. he immediately halted and turned to the decorated skin, his entire expression falling.

"what's wrong..?" you questioned, sitting up slightly.

"what is this?" matt was pale. he looked up at you, his entire demeanor changing.

you smiled nervously as you looked away. "ahh, i don't know.. i've had it since i was like twelve." you chuckled, but your smile faltered when you looked up at matt.

matt let in a deep breath as he stood up and checked his phone. 12:37am.

"fuck, i promised chris i'd play fortnite with him." matt chuckled as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

"are you okay?" you questioned, scrambling to your feet and straightening out your disheveled clothes and hair.

matt smiled reassuringly at you and nodded, walking to the door. after walking outside, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips that lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away and hugged you tightly. "thank you for today, i had an amazing time." he whispered against your ear.

you nodded softly and hugged him back.

as matt began to walk to his car, he smiled brightly at you and waved. he got in his car and started it, driving away once you re-entered your house. he drove down the street before he pulled over and buried his face in his hands. the only thing he could think of what the inked skin just above your pelvis.

a silhouette of a woman with a veil and a growing flame behind it.

taglist;; @star-saturn-xx @sturniolo-girl @p1xieswrld @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @sweetbabydoe @iloveneilperry

[fridge-art-nick]

She's changed a little bit overtime, but overall she's still the same!

I might re-do this at some point, the background needs fixing and her design needs an upgrade.

Woah! Art? By me?

Yeah, man

She doesn't have an official name

For now, I'm just calling her Moira

[golby-moon]

yoo made art for the @dadstielminibang and forced myself to attempt Furniture. somehow nothing exploded which is chill

I really had fun with this banner as far as telling a story through the fridge art and magnets (like the pie and bee magnets on thee best fridge art in the bottom right there, the cookie magnet existing to reference the first art piece, the sick Jack sketch in the top right, etc). I tried to show Jack's life with Lucifer (his dad in the fic) vs his life with Dean and Cas across the various scenes in the fridge art with hopefully just enough detail to make it obvious what's happening but still sketchy enough to make sense for a little kid

furniture is very much my weakness but an attempt was made anyway to show Jack and Emma (who's not related to Dean in this fic) having a tea party with their stuffed animals, Melly the camel (who's in every art piece lol) and a rabbit whose head is sinking into its own stomach, you know like you do. Emma's outfit is actually kinda based on what the young version of her wore in the episode while Jack's is based on the art I did for this bang last year because I thought it suited him

also I did actually fully design Dean and Cas watching Jack and Emma. okay no they're maybe watching each other instead but that's beyond the point—

oh no more furniture, this time featuring a bed and someone in said bed. fun fact but I originally made Jack too big and had to shrink him down a little. and as with the banner, the background kinda tells a story here with the pictures on the wall being Jack's two families (Lucifer/Nick, and Dean and Cas) and the blocks on the ground kinda do as well, hence why the 'n' (for Nick) is a distance away from the 'd,' 'c,' and 'j'. also also this is the first time I attempted uh making a light like that how's it look

(I kinda lowkey want Cas' bee pajama pants btw, although his flower shirt is very eye-searing and uh probably doesn't match. considering how many seasons he wore his tie backwards, I don't think he'd care about matching lol)

the fic this art is made for is called "Hand to Hold" by @ravenfuchs

(08/27/24)

[kronoose]

glenn goes home

It hasn't been long since they had returned to Earth

Everyone seemed to be settling back into their previous lives Henry had already gone back to work. The kids were back in school all in therapy for obvious reasons, even Darryl had settled back into the calmer life of being a house husband

But Glenn hadn't even returned to the place he'd called home since he'd left for the game which feels like ages ago. he knew would be so different from what he remembered but there was only so long he could stay in hotels And dodge questions about how it felt to finally sleep in his own bed again.

But eventually the dreaded day arrived he had a gig and needed to get his equipment.he walked up to his house and stood with his hand on the knob for much longer than needed trying to brace himself for this moment, he took a long drag from his blunt Then opened the door he hesitated before stepping in still half expecting to hear the sounds of Nick practicing or gaming the dead quiet house was eery as the rocker stepped in flicking on the lights looking around at the house that was so familiar yet not right there was a lack of kid mess not that much of the mess was ever Nicks. He headed to grab his gear tears forming in his eye as he passed the fridge the art that had become visual background noise over the years was gone it wasn't even a particularly good piece of art but it was still fridge worthy because Nick had been proud of it so Glenn enjoyed it to. He quickly wiped away the tears and continued going to get his gear. Glenn looked down at his phone as it went off it was the group chat they'd set up to keep in touch easier it was mostly himself and Henry with occasional random stuff from Ron

It's was Ron if we're being honest probably Samantha confirming movie night that weekend Glenn sent back a thumbs up before setting it to play some music and placing it on the counter before starting to dust off his gear going through the tedious process of cleaning everything. he got lost as he cleaned it was midway through the wheels he took a moment to stretch his sexy old man back.

As he looked around he catches a glimpse of his christmas tree 'it looked so empty' was his only thougth before Glenn fell to his knees and curled in on himself openly sobbing for the first time in far to long he stayed on the floor properly mourning the life he had it wasn't until he hears his phone ring and a knock at the door that he even attempted to snap up the mask back into place

[feathersandfarmers]

Kip Tweedy headcanons (Or facts, since she's my character??)

(even if no one asked) (For those who don't know, Kip is my Chicken Run OC. She's a human character, but is an ally to the chickens! She can talk to animals, which is a special power only she has!.. In the events of the first movie, Kip would be around 10! For the sequel, she'd be 16!)

-She is related to Melisha Tweedy, but she has Willard Tweedy's last name because the Tweedys adopted her. They are Kipper's legal parents, but she'll still refer to them as her aunt and uncle.

-Kip loves rainy weather! She enjoys taking calming nature walks in the rain because the air smells so fresh.

-Kip is quite multi-talented. She's always been good at arts and crafts, for example! However, she learned her cooking skills from her Aunt Melisha! Melisha (obviously) wouldn't ever really "play" with her young niece. Instead, Melisha would teach Kip skills and that is how they'd mainly bond with one another.

-Kip also learned a lot of "handyman" skills from her Uncle Willard. Yes, Kip loves learning about tools and repairs. When she was little, she'd "help" Willard by passing him hand tools as he would fix something that had broken (that is how she learned what all the tools were called!). As she got older, Mr.Tweedy taught Kip how to use tools safely and efficiently. She's quite good at it. When she reaches high school, she's the only girl to sign up for any woodworking class and is better than most of the boys! (Bonus info: Mrs Tweedy was always nervous about Kip getting hurt, and Willard being too stupid to protect Kip properly, so she was never a fan of her niece messing around with power tools...until she became good at them and could fix things around the house!)

-Her first friends on the farm (when she first moved in with the Tweedys) were Nick and Fetcher! The rats were raiding the house for food and junk, and Kip would always catch glimpses of them from the corner of her eye...maybe she'd leave out snacks for them to take?? (I haven't come up with all the details yet) But I'm imagining Kipper sneaking downstairs at night and chilling in front of the fridge with the rats as they have a late-night snack together in secret. They'd introduce themselves, and become acquainted. A few days later, the rats would thank Kip for the food with a small toy they found on their journeys!

-Kip is scared of needles! She has a hard time handling medical stuff in general

-Her best friend, however, is Ginger! She gets along well with Babs and Mac too. Bunty wasn't a fan of Kip at first because Kip is human and the hen distrusts her. Eventually, Bunty grows fond of Kip when she sees examples of Kip's goodness.

-Kipper is Molly's favorite aunt (Auntie Kip!) and will be overcome with joy whenever she comes over for a visit. When Kip stays for a few weeks, Molly will want to spend each night over with her auntie and her cool tent. The two will listen to music together, eat candies and chips, and maybe even draw pictures together!

-Kip's favorite food are french fries!

(Adding an old drawing of Kip for reference! hehe)

[dolcegalante]

Heartstopper Happy Pride Magnet