#who ever bob ford is

[theoddsideofme]

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[legobiwan]

This is such a telling page for Ford. Not only does he detail his social missteps and admit to being lonely in Gravity Falls, despite the scientific wonder of the place, but he also uses what I call "Fordese 2," a scrambled version of the "Fordese 1" code we were first introduced to in Journal 3 to label himself a "six-fingered freak" and to state that "Stanley would have made her laugh." (Her, being the waitress Ford tries out his nerdy science joke on, which goes down like a lead balloon despite the fact that it is legitimately funny, given the right audience).

It's like Bill says. "Ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated..." (Funny enough, Bill could probably turn those exact words on himself, as well.)

Ford so wanted Gravity Falls to be the place where he'd finally fit in, the puzzle to his misshapen puzzle piece.

And as we see in the missing Journal pages from BoB, that was not to be the case. And worst of all? Ford blames it on his hands at first, but the reality is that he says that "Stanley could make her laugh," meaning Ford's "freakishness" (as he would put it) has less to do with his six fingers and much more to do with Ford's personality and the way he interacts with others.

This is actually worse. Fingers, you can fix, if you want to. By the time you're an adult, most people probably wouldn't care. But to Ford, his fingers seem to be more a manifestation of something internal, something he feels is fundamentally broken about him and that's just the absolute worst hell to be stuck in.

So yeah, it's hardly surprising Ford fell so hard for Bill's shenanigans (and you can define "fell so hard" however you want, although that karaoke page in BoB is especially damning). Here's an interdimensional being who not only can guide you to unlocking the secrets of the universe and propel you towards scientific fame and glory (and thus shoving every taunt, invective, side-eye, and eye roll ever hurled at you over the decades down your tormentors' throats) - but he's (on the surface) completely glib about being a freak himself.

For Ford, this must have been like finding a shady, sparkling oasis after thirty years of trawling through the desert (especially after Stanley's "betrayal" - Stanley, who along with Fiddleford, being the only person Ford felt like he could be himself around and still be accepted as a human being).

Now, is Bill trying way too hard to show how much he doesn't care? Uhhh, yeah. Bill has almost the same hangups as Ford. Labeled a freak for a genetic mutation and ostracized by his peers. Has a rare gift in that he can see not only into the third dimension but can see even past that, into possible dimensions and futures, which is a wild skill to have. Compare this with Ford's gigantic science brain and academic overachievement. Same deal. And not only this! Bill, in an attempt to prove what he can do with his "freakishness," to prove his worth and place in the universe - he tries to show off something to the denizens of his dimension (we don't know yet what Bill did), only to end up slaughtering his entire dimension. Ford was a hair's breath away from doing the exact same thing with the portal. Because we know from Journal 3 that part of his motivation is to be famous and get accolades for his work, and that maybe "girls will finally talk to me." (Which, Fordsy, let's be real here - I don't think you're actually into these "girls" for real, but you want the acceptance that comes with fitting in with societal standards, and getting a state-sanctioned girlfriend is exactly the type of thing Ford would want to make himself feel "normal.")

Anyway, the point being that if Ford had succeeded with his initial portal attempt, he would have basically wiped out his own dimension. Just. Like. Bill. And it makes you wonder - yeah, yeah, Bill wanted to party, Bill needed out of the Nightmare Realm, Bill's a psychopath who enjoys destruction.

But honestly? I think part it all was that Bill wanted someone like him. His own puzzle piece. Another monster. A being whose collateral damage in the quest to justify their existence in this universe ends in wholesale slaughter.

And Ford had the capacity to easily fit that mould.

[alexthebordercollie]

it's nice to see mystery trio aus that aren't fiddlestan tbh. The amount of times I'll see one, think it looks interesting, and then it just turns into "wow Stan, you're so much nicer and cooler than your lame brother! Lets date!" And act like it's some kind of karma for Ford or something.

I definitely agree with your take that so often fiddlestan is just used as a way to express dislike of Ford, while ignoring any of Stan's canonical flaws

As a side note, since this is more of personal headcanon territory, but i think Stan would find Fiddleford too reminiscent of Ford when he was young to actually be interested.

Anyway, i always love to see Stan in his natural habitat (being a chaotic uncle)

I love the idea of the Mystery Trio. I think these three would play off each other really well. They're cute and funny together, but you don't need Fiddlestan. It feels like people treat it as a given that if offered the choice between Stan and Ford Fidds would choose Stan. Which is kind of shitty. (Low key it kind of reads to me like Ford is assumed the worse partner because he's autistic :/ even if people aren't consciously treating him that way.)

I think it's kind of presumptuous to assume Fidds would be into Stan anyway. Like physically attracted to him? Sure, obviously. If he finds Ford attractive odds are good Stan would also be nice to look at, but relationships aren't just physical attraction and it's obvious from the journals and BOB that Fidds had a very strong connection to Ford. If he's in love with an autistic nerd enough to throw his life away for him why would people assume Stans's wildly contrasting personality would somehow be more appealing?

I've actually had this comic kicking around in my mind for a while and this ask gave me a good excuse to draw it. (Though it took longer than expected)

While I don't think Fidds would ever choose Stan over Ford, I do think Ford would be a bit of a jealous and insecure partner. He's used to a lot of social rejection and struggles to maintain connections with people. Not to mention trust issues, especially after Bill who tried to sabotage his faith in Fiddleford in particular.

I wouldn't put it past Ford to get antsy seeing Fidds get along with his brother even if there's absolutely nothing going on there.

Also, I hadn't considered the suggestion that Stan might find Fidds nerdiness a turn-off because it reminds him too much of his brother, but yeah I could see it. Still, I'd buy Stan being interested in Fidds before I could really see the other way around happening. I think Stanley's tastes are bit broader but Fiddleford I imagine to have a bit more of a type. At least where romantic attraction is concerned. That said I don't think Fiddleford's actual tastes are really considered, I think he gets shipped with Stanley by people who want to see Stanley get that kind of overbearing love that Fidds showed to Ford. I do understand wanting to give him that kind of partner but Ford deserves love too, we don't need to be taking his healthy romantic option away from him and leave him with Bill. (His abuser.)

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Uptown Girl - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley is in love with the admiral's daughter. He needs to win her heart the best way he knows how - serenading her with the help of his friends.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings: swearing, Jake teasing Bradley about being old.

word count: 2k

“Man, I can’t just go talk to her.” 

Bradley put his head in his hands as he sat at the back of the Hard Deck with his friends. Running his long fingers through his short, golden-brown curls, he sighed before looking up, his hazel eyes full of anxiety and frustration. He’d been pining after a girl who’d become a regular at the local bar for a while - the first day he’d seen her, he was smitten. 

She’d come in with her long hair pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail, a warm, friendly smile on her features as she spoke with a few others in the bar. Bradley had wondered who she was, and where she’d come from, a question none of his squadron seemed to know the answer to. That was, until their team lead, and Bradley’s surrogate father of sorts, piped up with an explanation, having heard Bradley audibly swooning over how great she was to everyone in earshot. 

“That’s Admiral Simpson’s daughter. I wouldn’t try your luck there, if I were you, Bradley,” Maverick had warned, smirking as he took a sip from his beer glass as he looked over between Bradley and his mystery girl.

Bradley had gone quiet upon learning this information, unable to even fire back at his friend Jake’s retorts and quips about how Bradley was punching above his weight on this one, even as a skilled aviator. In a way, Jake was right, no amount of skill or experience in the air, no number of awards for his service, or medals of honor could put him in the same league as the Admiral’s daughter. Her father had recently become the commander of the entire Pacific fleet, and Bradley was just a lieutenant, serving as an aviator for the past 19 years, his entire naval career. 

At nearly 40, Bradley was beginning to consider retirement, weighing his options between becoming a flight instructor for Top Gun, the very flight academy program that he’d graduated from himself, or, ending his naval career to enter civilian life happily. With the exception of Maverick, the rest of his team were considerably younger than he was, the next oldest being Jake, at barely 35. Admiral Simpson’s daughter was easily a decade younger than him, if not more, and probably accustomed to much more in life than anything Bradley could offer her. Naval rank aside, she was likely much more used to living the life of luxury, where as Bradley had never really experienced it, outside of the odd frivolous purchase here or there, like his 1972 Ford Bronco, custom painted bright blue to restore it to its former glory when he purchased it. 

Despite all these reasons why Bradley should just forget this juvenile feeling crush he’d developed on her, he couldn’t shake it. Every time he caught a glimpse of her stunning smile, or heard her infectious laugh, the sweetest sound his ears had ever come across, he couldn’t help but fall right back into it again, like a trap that was set perfectly for him. Bradley was head over heels, but worst of all,

“You’re fucked, man. You can’t win here.”

Bradley sighed again as he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present moment. He looked up at Jake, who, upon seeing the confused look on Bradley’s face, laughed and repeated himself.

“I said, you’re fucked, man. There’s no winning here, you either go in there, you say hi to this girl and you ask her out, her dad finds out and you get your ass shipped out to another base faster than you can salute, or you ask her out and she turns your old ass down, either way, you’re going to end up unhappy and not with her,” Jake shrugged as he sipped his beer, leaning on his pool cue.

Bob, the more shy, reserved of Bradley’s team, shook his head. He pushed his glasses up on the end of his nose, adjusting them as he set his plastic cup down on the bar counter, shrugging his shoulders as he interjected, a rare occurrence for Bob, most of the time.

“I mean…Bradley could probably win her over,” He said quietly, nodding his head, “It wouldn’t be hard, I mean, he has an impressive career record, he’s a nice guy, he’s not bad to look at,” Bob shrugged, “I think he could pull it off. It’s her dad I’d be worried about. But, maybe he wouldn’t care so much? It’s not like Bradley’s gonna – what’s that term again? Hump and go? Surf and turf?”

“You mean hump and dump?” Jake snickered, shaking his head, “I think Brad here’s a bit old to pull off the hump and dump nowadays anyways. Maybe 20 years ago.”

“Easy, I only just turned 39 in June, thanks.”

“39 is practically old enough to be a grandfather, Bradley,”

“Oh come on, it is not,” Bradley frowned as he looked at his friends. Bob fiddled with his glasses nervously, avoiding eye contact, Jake smirked as he held back a laugh, and Reuben and Mickey pretended they didn’t hear the conversation, focusing instead on their game of darts taking place a couple of feet away, “Is it?”

“How many years older than you is Mav, man?” 

“I dunno,” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, “22, maybe? 23?”

“Right, so when he was 39, you were…?”

“Uh,” Bradley looks up at the ceiling as he counts in his head, trying to work out the math, “16?”

“Right…you see where I’m going with this?”

“Fuck, you’re right, I could be someone’s grandfather. Jesus Christ,” Bradley frowned, shaking his head as he sipped his beer again. 

“Relax, you’d have to had a kid at like, 23 or earlier, who also had a kid young for it to work, but it’s not impossible, is all,” Jake nodded matter of factly as he sipped his drink. Jake grinned as he spotted the girl in question walking by their seats, his elbow sharply poking Bradley in the ribcage as he nodded his head slightly in her direction. 

“Now’s your chance, loverboy. Take it now if you’re gonna shoot your shot,” Jake whispered with a smirk on his lips. 

Bradley nodded his head once and took a deep breath as he set his beer bottle down on the table. With a nervous smile, he put his aviators down over his eyes to hide their anxious gaze before heading over to the piano. If there was one thing Bradley could do to win her over, it’d be serenading the bar with a fun, classic upbeat tune. Normally, he’d go for his favourite, Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lewis, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Bradley put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, his grip firm as he leaned in to whisper to him.

“How confidently can you sing Uptown Girl?”

“You mean like, “uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world, I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy…?” Jake laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, singing the chorus of the song in his slightly off key baritone, “Oh, you’re not seriously doing this, are you?” He drawled, shaking his head before shooting Bob, Reuben and Mickey a look of disbelief. 

“I love that song!” Bob said enthusiastically as he stood to his feet, “We’ve got your back, buddy, let’s go win her heart!” 

Jake rolled his eyes and laughed before following Bradley and his friends to the piano. Bradley took his seat on the piano bench, lowering his sunglasses to make eye contact with his dream girl’s gaze, a confident smirk on his face as he winked at her before putting his glasses back on. He wasn’t sure if it was the beer coursing through his veins or the sheer smitten head over heels side of him taking over, but his new found confidence had Bradley playing the opening bars of the 80s hit on the piano, his friends offering nothing but encouragement for his somewhat ridiculous idea. It wasn’t the smoothest way to get a girl’s attention, but, it was different, and would almost certainly stand out in her mind, he reasoned with himself. 

“Uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world. I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy, I bet her momma’s never told her why,”  

Bradley sang out, his deep, gravelly voice ringing out as he carried each note perfectly in tune as he played the song’s melody on the piano. 

“And now she’s looking for a downtown man, that’s what I am,”  

Bradley’s eyes met with hers as he sang, unable to stop himself from smiling wider than he probably should have as he belted the song out, making it clear that out of the crowd of people around them singing along, his full intent was just to get her attention on him. 

“And when she knows what she wants from her time, and when she wakes up and makes up her mind,” 

Bob, Jake, Reuben and Mickey harmonized alongside Bradley, making for a perfectly imperfect set of backing vocals. While none of the four of Bradley’s backup singers were particularly great singers, their harmonies were enough support for Bradley to carry his way through the song without looking like he’d just lost his mind and started breaking out into song. 

“She’ll see I’m not so tough, just because, I’m in love with an uptown girl, you know I’ve seen her in her uptown world. She’s getting tired of her high class toys, and all her presents from her uptown boys, she’s got a choice,” 

As Bradley continued to sing it out, with his friends as moral and vocal support, he noticed that his mystery girl was making her way closer to the piano, seemingly leaving behind whoever she had arrived with as she inched her way towards the man who was apparently serenading her in the middle of a crowded bar near a naval base. She flashed him a smile, her cheeks a soft blush as she raised an eyebrow at him. Bradley couldn’t tell if the blush in her features was from embarrassment or flattery, but he hoped it was the latter of the two. 

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fine, and when she’s talking, she’ll say that she’s mine,” 

Bob and Jake began dramatically singing with one another, using Jake’s empty beer bottle as a makeshift microphone, while Mickey excitedly drummed along with his hands on the wooden top of the piano. Reuben began dancing slightly as he sang along to the words, all four men now completely immersing themselves in their performance with Bradley, and all four likely contemplating how they’d get Bradley to repay them for their public humiliation in the name of getting him a potential date. 

Bradley grinned as she approached the piano, her hands resting on the wooden top as he played the last few notes of the song, his eyes completely fixated on hers. To him, at that moment, she was the only person in the room. The only face he cared about in the crowded bar was hers, and now, it was right here, standing in front of him. 

“You’ve got quite the talent,” She curled her sheer, gloss-coated lips up into a grin as she leaned on the top of the piano, looking directly at Bradley.

“I’m a man of many talents, this was just a couple of them on display,” He nodded his head once, trying to keep his composure as she leaned towards him, willing his eyes to not wander down her body, “I’m Bradley. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, US Naval Air Force,” He said his title with a sense of pride that he hoped didn’t come off as bragging. 

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant,” She grinned, pointing to his empty beer bottle that sat atop the piano beside her, “Care to grab another one of those with me?” 

“Absolutely,” Bradley said as he hopped off the piano bench at an almost breakneck pace, leaving Jake, Bob, Reuben and Mickey fighting off fits of laughter at Bradley’s eagerness. 

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 2

Propaganda:

Fiddleford McGucket/Stanford Pines:

lab "partners" who broke the laws of physics and nature together but it went horribly wrong and one of them got stranded in alternate dimensions and the other wiped his memory so hard he went mad. 30 years later and they were finally able to reunite during the apocalypse. even though both had changed so much they wanted to forgive each other and move forwards

if fiddauthor isn't real then why is there only one bed in the bunker. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did they go stargazing and talk about wanting to start a family. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "my partner" and "my fiddleford". if fiddauthor isn't real then why does fiddleford subconsciously hang out around the shack decades after he stopped living there. if fiddauthor isn't real then why does ford have dreams about him every night. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did fiddleford leave his son and his failing/failed marriage to go live alone in an isolated cottage in the woods with his best friend from college. if fiddauthor isn't real then why is ford's ideal world one where he gets to work with fiddleford for the rest of time. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "life would be a nightmare without them" and "it's the most meaningful thing in the world". if fiddauthor isn't real then why did alex hirsch change that one scene in the book to sound less gay. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did fiddleford make his laptop password ford's name. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did they hold hands while hugging. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "i could have sworn that as he joyfully played, i could see the age lift off his face, and see the fiddleford who had been my friend so many years ago". IF FIDDAUTHOR ISN'T REAL THEN WHY DID FORD'S MORE HONEST RETELLING OF THE PORTAL SCENE FEATURE HIM GENTLY CRADLING FIDDLEFORD IN HIS ARMS

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

[gardenschedule]

Paul enabling John

In contrast to Paul wrangling John

“Later on, when I was sent downstairs to adjust a microphone, I heard them chatting excitedly about the upcoming appearance [the Royal Variety Performance]. They were over the moon about it, even though it was obvious that they didn’t care for upper-class people in general. Ever cheeky, John whispered to Paul at one point that he was going to ask the toffs in the audience to rattle their jewelry instead of applauding. Paul’s reply was a taunting “I dare ya!” That was the kind of relationship they had: John was the bad boy, the rebel, and Paul—who of course wouldn’t dream of saying that himself—was the instigator, the one needling him on to doing outrageous things.”

Geoff Emerick, Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of The Beatles

This angelic quality [of Paul’s face] was not necessarily always reflected in Paul’s behaviour. Hoffman noted that though in terms of verbal wit he could give as good as he got, Paul’s replies lacked the caustic edge of John’s words: “There was never really any bitterness in Paul.” Yet it seemed to the photographer that the vicious vitriol John would pour on often undeserving victims was quite evidently to Paul’s pleasure. “In a way Paul wallowed in it, because John always played up to his requirements. It’s a useful thing to have somebody like that, who’s capable of putting down people you don’t like.”

Dezo Hoffman, photographer

To John’s further delight, he discovered that Paul was corruptible. In no time, he groomed his young cohort to shoplift cigarettes and candy, as well as stimulating in him an appetite for pranks. On one occasion that still resonates for those involved, the Quarry Men went to a party in Ford, a village on the outskirts of Liverpool, out past the Aintree Racecourse. “John and Paul were inseparable that night, like Siamese twins,” says Charles Roberts, who met them en route on the upper deck of a cherry red Ripple bus. “It was like the rest of us didn’t exist.” They spent most of the evening talking, conducting a whispery summit in one corner, Roberts recalls. And it wasn’t just music on their agenda, but mischief. “In the middle of the party they went out, ostensibly looking for a cigarette machine, and appeared some time later carrying a cocky-watchman’s lamp.* The next morning, when it was time to leave, we couldn’t get out of the house because [they] had put cement stolen from the roadworks into the mortise lock so the front door wouldn’t open. And we had to escape through a window.”

The Beatles The Biography (Spitz, Bob)

Graham led us around the corner, where the Fab Four were hanging with their dates at a private table in the back of the room. Well, actually it was the Fab Three—George Harrison was not in attendance. […] The deal was, Lennon was actually under the table taking Polaroid pictures up the skirts of his female companions while Paul lent a hand. Ringo laughed at everything, and Paul’s then girlfriend, Jane Asher, was doing her best to drag him out of there. Dressed in Carnaby Street’s finest, the Beatles were dimly lit, and a halo of light illuminating their mop-top hairdos added just the right ambiance to make this already bizarre scene even more surreal. Paul was ducking under the table himself now, helping his business partner illuminate the proceedings with his disposable lighter, and Jane was searching the booth for her coat as we approached them, with Graham in the lead. “I’ll be leaving now, Paul,” Jane said through clenched teeth as she pushed her way out of the booth and stood there, staring him down.

Howard Kaylan of the Turtles, in his autobiography Shell Shocked

Several times I saw him whispering to Paul and George, and then he’d wave his hands about and act like a spastic—a cruel but very funny routine he did frequently in the studio. I guessed he was saying to them, “Watch this.” Clearly they were taking great delight in the knowledge that they could manipulate the audience any way they wanted to.'

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

George and Paul appear to have been slightly jealous of Stu and his influence with John, not that outsiders could see how much John admired Stu. John picked on Stu all the time and hurt him when he could. Paul, following John's lead, also began to pick on Stu, even though he was interested in art and, like John, was getting from Stu a lot of new ideas and fashions.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

"I remember I had a girlfriend called Celia. I must have been 16 or 17, about the same age as her...we went out one evening and for some reason John tagged along, I can't remember why it was. I think he'd thought I was going to see him, I thought I'd cancelled it and he showed up at my house. But he was a mate, and he came on a date with this Celia girl, and at the end of the date she said, 'Why did you bring that dreadful guy?' And of course I said, 'Well, he's all right really.' And I think, in many ways, I always found myself doing that. It was always, 'Well, I know he was rude; it was funny, though, wasn't it?'"

Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997

Thereafter, it was John and Paul who brought in all the new material; they assigned each musician his part, chose the songs, sequenced the sets—they literally dictated how rehearsals went down. “The rest of us hadn’t a clue as far as arrangements went,” Hanton says slowly. “And they seemed to have everything right there, at their fingertips, which was all right by me, because their ideas were good and I enjoyed playing with them.” But the two could be unforgiving and relentless. “Say the wrong thing, contradict them, and you were frozen out. A look would pass between them, and afterwards it was as if you didn’t exist.”

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

“Lennon had attitude, and, taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times, they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were ‘superior human beings’.”

Bob Wooler in Mark Lewisohn’s Tune In

"When John did 'How Do You Sleep?' I didn't want to get into a slinging match. Part of it was cowardice. John was a great wit, and I didn't want to go fencing with the rapier champion of East Cheam-- But it meant that I had to take shit--It meant that I had to take lines like 'All you ever did was Yesterday.' I always find myself wanting to excuse John's behavior, just because I loved him. It's like a child, sure he was a naughty child, but don't you call my child naughty. Even if it's me he's shitting on, don't you call him naughty. That's how I felt about this and still do. I don't have a grudge whatsoever against John. I think he knew exactly what he was doing, and, because we had been so intimate, he knew what would hurt me and used it to great effect. I thought, 'Keep your head down and time will tell,' and it did because in the 'Imagine' film (Imagine John Lennon, documentary), he says it was really all about himself."

Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

The car was originally powered by a 365 cubic inch Cadillac engine, later replaced by a 427 cubic inch high-performance Ford engine, and had a 125-inch wheelbase, with a tubular aluminum frame and a hand-fashioned soft aluminum body. The car has Batmanesque set of rear fins dominating the bodyline and ruby red hubcaps on whitewall tires.

The car was designed by Andrew Di Dia, a clothing designer, who Bobby Darin had met while on tour in Detroit in 1957. Darin telling Di Dia at the time that he would purchase the car if he ever "hit it big".

For seven years, from 1953 to 1960 the DiDia 150 was hand-built by four workers, at a cost of $93,647.29 but sold to Darin in 1961 at a cost of over $150,000 (1.5 million today). At the time the car was listed as most expensive "custom-made" car in the world by the Guinness Book of Records. The body was hand-formed by Ron Clark and constructed by Bob Kaiser from Clark Kaiser Customs.

Di Dia toured the car around the country, when Darin wasn't using it for public appearances. After publicity and film use, Darin donated his "Dream Car" to the National Museum of Transportation in 1970 where it remains. It was restored by Mike Manns of Manns Auto Body in Festus, Missouri before going on display.

The gasoline-fueled V8 engine (originally 365 cid, later upgraded to 427 cid) is located at the front. It is rear-wheel drive. The body and chassis are hand-formed from 064 aluminum with a unitized alloy tube frame.

It has a glass cockpit in back, a squared steering wheel resembling a superellipse and thermostatically controlled air conditioning system. The interior is rust colored in contrast to the ruby paintwork. The design included the first backseat-mounted radio loudspeakers and hidden windshield wipers, which start themselves when it rains. Other features include retractable headlamps, rear turn signals which swivel as the car turns, 'floating' bumpers and a trunk that was hinged from the driver's side. Each of the four bucket seats have their own thermostatically controlled air conditioning, individual cigarette lighters and ashtrays, as well as a radio loudspeaker.

Source: Wikipedia / motorius.com

[seat-safety-switch]

I love my fireworks, say all my neighbours as they cram a flimsy plastic tube full of low-yield explosives. Surely everyone in my community will also appreciate them. If not, they are some kind of Grumpy Gus and are not invited to the block party cookout. Friends, I can tell you this right now: I am not going to that barbecue.

As you might have imagined, the residents of my area of the world like to shoot off a bunch of Roman candles when they feel like it. Sure, fireworks are fun and all, but I feel like if you're burning three or four hundred dollars worth of illegal noise-and-light generators every couple of weeks, you might as well just take up smoking again.

At first, it was a lot of fun. Very festive. It helped the community spirit, even if all the dogs were constantly terrified and kept trying to chew through a fence to escape. Ol' Ray down the block lost a finger trying to grab onto what he called a "Winky Sprinkler," though, and then everything changed.

Once there was a scent of blood in the air, it became a competition. Ray needed to "make it worth" his sacrifice, so he started amping up his production. Bigger shows. Coordinated by electronics. More frequently. This drew the ire of another rich asshole (Bob Winsome, who used to own the Ford dealership) with poor impulse disorder, and soon the two of them were getting up to a night-time artillery show that the police were not equipped to stop, mostly because they were at the doughnut store or trying to knock over a casino for some quick cash in the retirement fund at the time.

Nearly every night became a terror of pop-pop-pop. although I am very good at ignoring troublesome noises, those noises are usually generated by my own car while I'm driving them. Not constantly happening while I'm trying to focus on my usual problems: things like "why is this bolt stripped," and "where did this pile of wires I just cut through go to?"

As the Constitution says, though: "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." After one particularly rough night of having exploding munitions going off directly over my head while I was trying to find the origin of some faint valve clatter, I decided to respond in kind. A friend of mine, who will be called Millie Teri for reasons that are about to become clear, loaned me a couple pieces from her private collection. I had myself a patriotic parade that night. Courtesy, of course, of some army bases didn't really pay too close attention to what they listed on eBay. That's what they call "taxpayer value," even if I did have to technically buy the low-shrapnel M107 flash shells twice.

I had expected to draw a truce after demonstrating my superior firepower, much like how French tourists can shut down any discussion of cheese. After bombarding both rich pricks' homes, however, it soon became apparent that the dickheads blamed each other for the massive destruction wrought on their properties, and refused to believe that a belligerent third party could have done such a thing to them just for "several months of sleepless nights courtesy of constant 120dB outside noise."

After the mutually-assured destruction finished, though, I never saw or heard another fireworks display from Ol' Ray or Bob Winsome. If they ever find an identifiable chunk of either of their bodies, we'll probably have a pretty cool tribute at the funeral using up whatever unexploded fireworks they have still left in the scorched remnants of their family homes.

[creepygnomeking]

Oooooooh myyyyy Gooooood your Bill Cipher looks so fucking badass, might be one of my favorite character designs ever period! So I really wanna ask if they have any lore please tell me because I wanna know everything about them. Again they look so fucking cool!

AAA THANKS!! I’m glad so many people found my old Gravity Falls oc interesting! I do have plenty lore cooking up for them and now thanks to the BoB, it only drove me more!

Their name, or what Bill now made them go by, is Crow’s Nest, or simply Crow. They are an adult, around their mid 20s. They began to work for Bill as his assistant, doing his dirty work and anything else he himself can’t physically do. Whatever Bill commands, Crow will follow without hesitation. They are willing to do anything for him. Doesn’t fight back, doesn’t conflict with his plans. The perfect puppet. Better yet! Crow KNOWS they are his puppet, they know what he is capable of and his intentions.

All their hobbies, aspirations, dreams, friends all gone. Their purpose now is to please and be with Bill. Crow has undying loyalty towards him, and is basically Bill’s human pet. Reading more stuff that happened with Ford, Bill is definitely projecting his past relationship onto Crow. Does that bother them? Maybe, but they aren’t gonna do much about it.

Bill has “saved” them and took the poor thing under his wing. He lovingly gave them the name “Crow’s Nest” because of their messy hair that he happily likes to rest on. Do they have a real name? Who cares, Crow doesn’t remember. When creating them, I asked myself this: What if there was someone insane enough to free him? So desperate to cling onto Bill like how he wanted. Someone so head strong to not let anyone get in their way but immediately be submissive like a dog as soon as he asked?

[david-talks-sw]

No, George Lucas is not a "traitor"

You may have seen angry tweets and thumbnails such as these, in the last few days.

Context - Disney is going through a proxy battle, and George Lucas sent out a statement that read as follows:

So immediately, all the grifting influencers who based their entire platform around the narrative that "Kathleen Kennedy & Disney betrayed Lucas' legacy" banded together and agreed that the new line was:

"Fuck George Lucas, he betrayed us and betrayed himself. Lucas sided with his own abusers!"

Here's why this line of thought is absolutely childish and uninformed.

1- Get real, he's a shareholder, of course he'll say this.

I don't need to expand on this, do I?

He owns stock. Someone threatens your money, you defend the money. The question becomes: why does he think that sticking with Disney CEO Bob Iger will result in more profit than siding with?

Variety theorizes that it may be because Nelson Peltz has admitted that he has no media experience. 

And if that's the case? I'm not surprised at all, because...

2- George has always hated amateur studio execs

The following is me simplifying a lot... but George's relationship with studios has never been a good one.

When he was working at American Zoetrope, with Francis Ford Coppola, they were commissioned to adapt George's short film into a feature, THX-1138. The studio execs didn't like it and forced Francis to refund them the money (which is why he agreed to direct The Godfather, to get out of debt).

Moving on to American Graffiti (1973). When George writes Graffiti, he shops it around to studios and they all essentially told him to go fuck himself.

"American Graffiti went around to every single studio twice and they all said, "It's not a movie, there's no story, and there are no movie stars in it." And Star Wars— it was, "What in the world is this? Wookiees and robots? I don't get it." [...] It'd be hard to make a movie [like American Graffiti or Star Wars] today in the system because all these middle management people get in there and interfere in the process. I think that's much worse for filmmakers than it's ever been in the past." - Star Wars Insider #43, 1999

Except Universal. But throughout the process they're being irritants.

They object to the title because they don't know what it means.

The president is convinced it's a bad movie to a point where when he sees audiences cheer for it in test screenings, he argues they're paid actors.

They force Lucas to trim 5 minutes out of the film. Why? Just because.

This approach the studio execs were taking comes from the fact that none of them were artists. At this point in time, studios had been and were being bought by corporations who thought they could make a quick buck in the movie business.

Eg: Warner Bros wasn't run by the Warner brothers anymore. Paramount was now a subsidiary of Gulf+Western.

So when he's receiving notes, they're coming from - you guessed it - amateurs who think they know what they're talking about, but in reality have no clue. They did market research and think they know everything.

This subject is covered in The Offer (2022), a series about the making of The Godfather (reeeeally good show, I watched it twice).

In this scene, for example, you have a studio exec with no artistic sense whatsoever trying to tell Coppola which poster he should go with, and you get the idea of what I mean.

(Fun fact, a young George Lucas even makes a cameo in the pilot episode, in Coppola's office.)

George also went into this subject during his 2015 interview with Charlie Rose.

It's a 4-minute clip, so here's the relevant bit:

"[Big corporations are] known for being risk averse. And movies are not risk averse. Every single movie is a risk, a big risk, like... The movie business is exactly like professional gambling... except you hire the gambler. You use some crazy kid with long hair, you give him $100 million and you say "go to the tables and come back with $500 million." That is a risk! Now, the studios have been going to think of it that way, they say: "well, maybe if we told him that he couldn't bet on red, maybe if we told him because we did market research and we've realized that red wasn't" -- so they tried minimize their risk. [...] They're basically corporate types. They think-- some of the worst things happens when they think they know how to do it, then they start making decisions that ensure it's not going to work. " - Charlie Rose, CBS This Morning, 2015

Now, ironically, this is the same interview in which he compared Disney to "white slavers", but clearly he was still smarting from his own ideas for the Sequels having been ignored.

But considering how little a fuck he gave about those Star Wars films once they came out and how often he visits the now visits sets of like Ahsoka and The Mandalorian, I think he's over it.

Again, this doesn't align with some Star Wars influencers' narrative that "he's fuming, he hates these movies, he feels betrayed and angry!" But if you ask me, he likely couldn't care less, and dubbing Disney his "abusers" is giving them waaay too much credit.

He made his movies, told the story he needed to tell and is now probably just enjoying his retirement, raising his daughter and putting together his museum, part of which is possible because of the money Disney keeps generating for him, as an investor.

So it doesn't surprise me one bit that George Lucas, of all people, to side with the Devil he knows rather than the amateur exec, because the latter is a painful road he knows all too well.

[damnghouligans]

Hyperfixation thoughts:

“Grammar, Stanley.” Was absolutely Ford being a petty bitch at the end of the world.

BUT we also know a poor Jewish boy from New Jersey with a deformity and (presumably) autism and npd PROBABLY had to mask A LOT to fit into academia. Shed a lot of the quirks that marked him as an outsider. Which is why I feel he got along with Fidds and why he and Fidds were wearing suits in the middle of the fucking sticks where they didn’t talk to anyone. It’s Ford’s lab and he wants to be formal and accepted by the elites.

Would post-series Ford pick up some of the quirks he casted aside? Like, does this dude use a bunch of Yiddish now that he’s back with his family? Does the Jersey accent come back? Is he proud of being from the slums now? Does he realize he really DID make it out all those years ago? We know he realizes none of it was worth it without his family based on the BOB site….. what does that look like now?

Does Ford appreciate how informal grammar works? Or how language is a living, breathing reflection of the people who use it??

Do they ever go back to New Jersey? You can never go back to your hometown, so what’s it like now? Do they even recognize it? Do they fit in anymore? Do they have distant family there still???

I need someone better at writing than me to write me something.

[elyxisea]

I have complicated thoughts on bill's sexuality and now I'm going to complain about it

this isn't going to make much sense. by which I mean it won't make ANY sense. a huge ramble is all this is

so aroace bill is a popular headcanon, minus billdip which we don't talk about, and then bob comes out! and now toxic bitter exes fordbill is raging. its very one-sided - ford's out of a toxic relationship and bill's still broken up over him. classic stuff! can't go wrong (yes you can)

and now we know bill has had serious romantic relationships before. oh boy, this is the end for aroace bill hcs isn't it? BUT WAIT, Enter:

whatever this is!

so. obsession. my belief is that bill has never felt romantic love for ford. the entire bob is him manipulating us, AND it's proven that he's had serious romantic relationships in the past (bloody mary). truly, the end for aroace bill, and indeed the uprising of aroace ford. but hear me out: platonic obsession. aroace bill who gets into relationships with people and never actually romantically loves them but because he's the way he is he doesn't actually care if his attraction to them is romantic or platonic. he's a manipulative asshole who's obsessing over ford because ford isn't doing what he wants because the romantic implications he tried to manipulate ford with didn't work because. AROACE FORD! just imagine these two aroace losers running around making everyone think they kiss. hilarious stuff.

so that's aro bill. now for ace bill. is it a stretch to say he might not have even had sexual organs. he's a triangle. maybe it's because my puny human, pathetically mortal brain can't comprehend a triangle doing the deed, but I physically can't imagine him in a sexual relationship. I'd like to imagine that because he's from the second dimension he can't find people to do the tango with. maybe he's just ace. how do shapes reproduce? he had a mother and a father. how do shapes reproduce. I need to go think about that. is how they reproduce still possible as a 3d shape? it definitely involves his eye. ford has spit in his eye, in that deleted scene. what are the implications of that? only bill will ever know. maybe he isn't asexual but he never does it because nobody knows how. I need to go lie down.

[legobiwan]

"What if Stanley somehow manages to destroy the portal just like he destroyed my perpetual motion machine?"

Holy shit, Stanford, you just spent the last few pages of your Journal outlining in horrifying detail how Bill took your body on a criminal joyride and forced you to forget your own name while pulling your bones from their very sockets in a hallucinatory nightmare void. You woke up weeping on your living room floor.

And yet, you have the absolute fucking gall to be concerned your brother, if you summon him to Gravity Falls, might destroy the Portal???? You mean the one piece of leverage you have over Bill? The main reason he's stalking you? The machine that will literally end the world if activated?

Between this, Ford refusing to burn his journals, and the fact he fully intends on continuing his work on the Portal once he's solved the Bill problem -

This is the picture of a man at the apex of both megalomania and a mental breakdown.

Could you imagine if Ford had found a way to beat back Bill and keep the Portal? Just how much would his ego have inflated even more? (Probably large enough that he wouldn't fit out the door). I feel like it's a timeline where Ford becomes the Big Bad, not because of Bill (well, a little bit because of Bill), but because he sees himself as transcending godhood and what little is left of his moral compass he casts into a black hole. ("He may be a god, but I am scientist.")

The juxtaposition between this and Stan's sacrifice during Weirdmageddon is insane. Ford, who steadfastly refused to give up his life's work to save world and Stan, who gave up everything he was to save the world. There's got to be a part of Stan that reads these pages and wonders just who his brother is, when he turned unto a supervillain, and if it would ever happen again. Stan may not want to acknowledge it, but deep down, I think he's legitimately pissed at Ford for being such narcissistic bonehead. I think it is something that haunts him in the odd hours of the night, his brother sleeping soundly in the bunk next to him on the Stan O'War II while Stan ponders if he's sharing quarters with Lex Luthor. You could have ended it, Poindexter. You could have ended so long ago.

The past is the past and as his mother would say, you can't unshit a turd. (Something Stan has more experience with than he'd like, regret trailing him his whole life like a vengeful shadow). Ford is here now, they're alive, the bastard triangle is gone. But God, does he want to sit his brother down, tie him to a chair, and scream at him, to shake him and demand to know just what hell he had been thinking, why he had allowed himself to become this kind of...this kind of monster.

Stan will never, ever do this. He has his brother, has his awkward affection, has almost everything he's ever wanted. The answers are not worth it. (In Stan's experience, the answers are almost never worth it.)

And as for Ford? Somewhere in his subconscious, a shrill, too-familiar voice likes to remind him of who he is and what he can still become. The same grating voice that tells him they're not so different, after all, that there's still time, there's always time to fix the past, to create the future. You're a scientist, after all. You're more than a god.

That's the voice Ford papers over with contrition, with guilt and self-abnegation and a near-manic dedication to the small boat bobbing along in the Arctic, not even holding a speck of relevance compared to the vast and might ocean, forget to the multiverse at large. That's the voice Ford drinks away in secret on the worst nights, the one that tells him a stone statue in the forest is as much him as it is the monster whose shape it embodies.

[yourfreindlynighborhoodspycrab]

I'm am convinced that if Bill had just been honest with Ford about the portal he would have gone through with it. Like yes he has a moral framework unlike Bill but 1: it's not exactly the most ridged one, and 2: fleeing the collapsing segment of the nightmare relam would work just fine in it. Ford is reckless, he is all intelligence but no wisdom, he wouldn't think twice if the portal led to a nightmare realm if he had a good reason. His number 1 skill is rationalizing. like from many of the segments from stanford in the BoB we get the picture that he was utterly devoted to his "muse" litterly if bill gave any explanation other then "me and my henchmanics are gonna have a party in your dimension" Ford likely would have gone along with it or at least calmed down an be just suspecious and not outright hostile to bill. for all his talk and reputation of being a master minipulator in and out of universe when ever it comes time to actully do some manipulating with words on someone who has an near enough equal ammount of information bill fumbles the ball.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

She's in Love with the Boy - Jake Seresin x OC

A/N: This is part two in my series She Had Me at Heads Carolina, I don't know why I see country music + hangman as a thing (ok so maybe I do know why) but here we are. I wrote this half awake this morning and it's probably a lot less cute than I think it is.

tagging: @mamachasesmayhem for the update lol

pairing: Lt. Jake Seresin x fem! OC

warnings/content: literally just Jake drunkenly singing 90s country music badly again

word count: 2.4k

 It had been two days since your beach trip, and you were thinking over the past 48 hours as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair out before getting ready to go out that night.

Courtney had been far more bold than you were at the beach that day, having gone home with Bradley as soon as it was offered. You knew she was crazy for him already just by the way she looked at him. She’d always been one of those love at first sight types, the kind who believes in soulmates and finding that perfect person who makes you swoon with one look. It didn’t typically work out for her, wearing her heart on her sleeve and being so head over heels in love every time, but, this one occasion, you really hoped it did. She hadn’t talked about anything but him for the last day and a half it’d been since she got home - he’d been the perfect gentleman, driving her home the next morning in his 1972 Ford Bronco, dropping her off and seeing that she got inside ok, even though it was broad daylight and you and Stephanie were both still home. 

Stephanie had been texting with Bob ever since, giggling and blushing at the small screen every so often. Where Courtney over shared about her time with Rooster, Stephanie undershared about her relationship with Bob. She kept her lips sealed about just about everything, including their date yesterday morning. Bob had shown up in uniform to pick her up on his way into the base, wanting to take her for breakfast before they both had to go into work for the day. 

As far as you and Jake went, you’d been exchanging text messages back and forth with one another. It started with Jake sending you a “Hey there Heads Carolina,” to you responding with “Does that make you Tails California?” From there, it evolved into a near constant back and forth between the two of you, swapping country playlists and favourite songs, facts about your lives back home, yourselves, your likes, your dislikes. You weren’t normally one to fall in love instantly, but after two days of exchanging texts, you found yourself dying to see him again. He’d apologized for not taking you out yet, he’d been called in for an early briefing the first day, and yesterday he’d been stuck late working on something, none of which you could know any details about.  Courtney and Stephanie had tried reassuring you that he was interested in you, but part of you wondered if maybe it was just Jake being too polite to tell you he didn’t want to see you again.

Your phone had buzzed violently against the wooden top of your vanity a couple of hours ago, vibrating and moving across the slick, matte white finish of the furniture. You looked down and saw it was Jake, or as you’d saved him in your phone, Tails, California.

“Hey sweets, I was wondering if you’re free tonight. Karaoke at The Hard Deck. I need a duet partner. I’d sing with Rooster, but he’s a spotlight hog.”

“I can come, but that singing on the beach was a one time thing. I felt bad you were getting roasted alive.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Really?”

“Are you not going to feel bad if I get booed off stage tonight? I might end up getting drunk and singing Amazed or something.”

“Oh God, can’t have you butchering poor Lonestar. The whole state of Texas might shun you. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks sweets, karaoke starts at 7. I’ll be there a little earlier.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as you realized that Jake hadn’t been avoiding you on purpose. You were never the type to get in too deep after one meeting, but something about Jake had you completely taken by him. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you could feel the infatuation with him brewing whenever you thought about him. You scrolled through your phone and settled on a country playlist you’d built years ago during college, back when you still lived in Tennessee. You hadn’t even been remotely interested in it in years before the beach, but since Jake got you singing along with him, you found yourself wanting to revisit it for the nostalgia. Plus, you wanted to make sure you didn’t humiliate yourself on karaoke night by not knowing the words to 90s country songs, which were all probably fair game if Jake was choosing.

As the opening notes of She’s In Love With The Boy began filling your room, you hummed the familiar tune. You picked a sweet, pale blue daisy print sundress from your closet, pulling its thin fabric over your head as you got dressed. You began rummaging through your closet, praying you hadn’t left any boxes of shoes at your parents house back in Tennessee as you looked for the perfect compliment to your outfit. Pulling out a pair of classic cognac brown cowboy boots, you gave yourself an eyeroll as you put them on, unable to deny you were doing it purely to impress him. You turned to yourself in the mirror and examined your outfit. Your hair was curled and neatly pushed back off your face with a baby blue headband,  one that perfectly matched hue of your dress. Your makeup was simple and natural, a nice compliment to the vibe of the dress you’d chosen. As you nodded your head once, you grabbed your phone, turning your music off. 

A short drive later, you were at The Hard Deck with Courtney and Stephanie in tow, looking for Jake and his friends. Bob waved you all over with a friendly smile, and Stephanie practically ran to him. He put his arm around her affectionately and kissed her cheek. He handed her a drink and smiled. 

“Hey, I know Rooster’s up at the bar, Courtney,” Bob said with a nod towards where Bradley was standing. Bradley waved excitedly, his aviator sunglasses clipped to his white tank top under his open Hawaiian print dress shirt. Bob was sporting a simple jeans and oxford-blue dress shirt combo, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, showing off his somewhat surprisingly muscular arms. He smiled as he pointed to the dart board where Jake was standing on the other side of the bar, sporting a Texas Longhorns baseball jersey, light washed denim jeans and cowboy boots. 

“Hangman’s currently mopping the floor with Coyote in darts right now. I don’t know how that guy does it, but he hits bullseye every time. It’s literally my job to hit targets and I can’t even do it as accurately as he does every time in darts,” Bob shakes his head in disbelief as he laughs. “He should be almost done, I think. I don’t really know how long a game of darts goes on for?”

You politely excused yourself from your friends for a moment, heading over to where Jake was standing. He leaned in to his step, tossing another perfectly thrown dart at the board again. 

“Nice shot,” you said cooly as you looked at him.

“Hey! I figured I’d play some darts until you got here,” Jake laughed softly as he nodded his head before setting the darts down and leaning on the high top table that his drink sat on. 

“Courtney and Stephanie were invited too, so we just carpooled down, took us a bit longer than I’d hoped because Courtney couldn’t decide what outfit Rooster would like better on her,” You shook your head as you thought about how silly it sounded when you said it out loud, “She really likes him, wants to make a good impression.”

“Oh trust me, he hasn’t shut the fuck up about how great she is over the last two days. It’s kind of cute in a way though. Also kind of annoying in a way but I’m letting it slide because he’s in love,” Jake smirked as he put the amber coloured glass bottle to his lips, taking a sip, “You can tell her though, he doesn’t care what she’s wearing. He’s going to respond the same way if she shows up in a trash bag.” 

“Noted. Stephanie is getting all giggly over Bob, but I she’s always giggly and blushing so it’s hard to tell with her. She’s not as…open as Courtney is. Although, I think she’s pretty smitten since he took her for breakfast yesterday and picked her up in his uniform. That alone probably sold her.”

“Oh she liked that? That was my idea. Bob’s a little shy and a little…inexperienced when it comes to dating. Figured I’d help the poor bastard out a little bit on that one. He really likes her.” 

“Your idea?”

“Yeah, he had to meet me yesterday for a training exercise, but I told him I could stall for an hour if he wanted to take her out or something. I suggested he just wear his uniform, because girls apparently love men in uniform. And I clearly wasn’t wrong,” Jake’s smile was smug, yet genuine as he shrugged his shoulders.

“What are you, some kind of professional matchmaker?” You retorted dryly as you raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide the fact that you were about to break out into a grin.

“Nah, I just know the poor guy needs the extra push, ya know?” Jake set his beer down as his eyes scanned over your body, taking in your outfit choice for the evening, “You look fantastic, sugar. You even brought out your cowboy boots?” 

“I thought I left them back home, but I found them in the back of the closet, I haven’t worn them since I finished college. Even then, it was just for bars and homecoming. I’m amazed they fit.”

“Hey, I appreciate a good boot,” He nodded, gesturing to his own matching pair of cowboy boots. “Especially if we’re gonna be belting out another classic tonight. I have to see what our options are up there. Any preferences? I think we’re up after Payback and Fanboy. Not really a tough act to follow. The only one of us who can actually carry a fuckin’ tune is Rooster. Not fair he gets to look good with a mustache and sing,” Jake says as he mockingly pouts and rolls his eyes before grinning again. 

“Aw, jealous are we?” You teased, folding your arms across your chest as you raised your eyebrow at Jake.

“Only because when I grow a mustache like that, I look like an 80s porn star,” He shakes his head and laughs, “C’mon, let’s go get a drink and get closer to the stage so we can see what we’re up against.”

He took your hand in his, and you couldn’t help but notice how perfectly your hand fit in his. He smiled at the bartender, a pretty brunette woman, older than you both but by how much, you couldn’t be sure.

“Penny, m’dear, can I get another beer and whatever Lauren here wants to drink?” He smiled at you before turning back to face Penny, nodding his head as he handed her his credit card. “Here, I’ll save myself the trouble and just leave this with you,” He laughed and put his wallet back in his pocket. 

Jake handed you your drink and smiled as he tilted his head back towards the makeshift stage, where two men were currently butchering the entire melody of ‘Yeah!’ by Usher. 

“Tweedledee and tweedledum over here are almost finished up, it’s us next. You ready? Pick a song yet?” His green eyes looked at you full of intrigue as he awaited your reply.

“The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia?” 

Jake flipped through the options and shook his head, “Nope.”

“Chattahoochee?”

“You want me to get up on stage and sing that opening verse about the river being hotter than a hoochie coochie?”

“Good point,” You laughed and shook your head, feeling the humiliation at the mere suggestion of it now that he’s brought it up. 

“She’s In Love With The Boy is on here. That’s a good one.”

“You wanna sing Trisha Yearwood? Can your voice go that high?”

“Absolutely not but it’s that or I down another beer and start belting out Neon Moon by Brooks and Dunn with or without you.”

“Fair enough, Trisha Yearwood it is.”

“Her daddy says, “he ain’t worth a lick, when it comes to brains he’s got the short end of the stick,” you belted out with as much passion as you and your cocktail could muster.

“But Katie’s young and man she just don’t care, she’d follow Tommy anywhere” Jake harmonized with his adorably out of key baritone, trying to carry the note as best as he could.

“My daddy said, you wasn’t worth a lick, when it came to brains you got the short end of the stick–”

“but he was wrong and honey you are too, Katie looks at Tommy, like I still look at you.”

“She’s in love with the boy, she’s in love with the boy.”

As you and Jake continued to finish the last verse of the beloved country song, you couldn’t help but think about the words. You looked over to Jake who shot you a grin while he gripped his microphone, giving the final line as much as he could as he sang it out. 

“What’s meant to be will always find a way, she’s gonna marry that boy someday.”

You took note of the way the makeshift spotlight highlighted his dark blonde hair and sunkissed skin, his green eyes shining brightly, and the unmistakeable grin of someone having the absolute time of their life on his face. He looked even better in this light than he did on the beach the other day, cowboy boots, off-key singing and all. The more you thought about it, the more you thought that maybe, just maybe, the song might have been more than just a song you chose for karaoke. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, maybe you were in fact in love with the boy this time.