#talking heads 1979 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demieyesore · 7 months

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You - Theodore Nott

Currently listening to Hollywood undead while I write this fanfic, anyways I’m a big whore (unfortunately) and I see that currently my poll is around the same votes for Mattheo and Theo…so this one will be for Theo (since my first fanfic was for Mattheo) and then my next fanfic after this one will be Mattheo x Reader x Theo bc I absolutely love men and poly relationships‼️

Summary - Theo notices someone being too handsy with GN!Reader in class and gets possessive

Warnings / Mentions - Reader is not in a specific house, no use of Y/n, kind of strangers to lovers? Reader is friends with the golden trio, Harry is the one being touchy, Possessive!Theo, Yandere!Theo, Stalker!Theo (but doesn’t really mention anything creepy except claiming the Reader)

I am willing to make a smutty part two of this if anyone wants it and I hope y’all recognize what I’m loosely referencing in this fic at the end LOL

Requested - No

POV - 1st person

Word Count - 1979

I fiddle with my tie, trying to re-adjust the cloth as it hangs loosely around my neck. I had originally loosened it because it had gotten really hot in the class room but that can be expected when you’re working on potions from time to time.

Harry was assigned to be my potions partner. Ron and Hermione were sat next to us as we read off all the needed ingredients.

Harry begins listing the items while counting them on his fingers in 3s. Once he’s mesmerized part of the ingredients, his eyes drift towards me. His eyebrow quirks up when he sees me struggling with my tie.

Immediately he forgets the stuff we need as he reaches over to my tie, gently removing my hands from the area as he re-adjusts it for me. A small blush forms on my face at how close he has gotten. I can very easily see his scar up close and how his glasses are settled on his nose.

Has he always been this pretty?

As if on command, his hands drop from my tie. I look down at his hands and back up as he gives me a cute but awkward looking smile.

The kind of smile you give someone when you realize just how close you are before moving away.

Harry stands and goes to grab the ingredients.

Hermione smiles at me with a grin that just screams, “I told you he liked you.”

I roll my eyes at her, watching as Ron fucks up something in their potion, causing his eyes to go wide. Hermione’s attention is redirected as she hits the back of his head, pushing him over to fix whatever he’s done.

As I wait for Harry, I look around the room. Some people are already done with their potions, some are restarting. And by restarting, I mean that Seamus’ is covered with dust and his hair is everywhere.

Well now I know why it’s so hot in here.

My eyes wander next to him to see the next table of students. At this table, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott are sitting and just talking.

Looks like they’ve finished their potion.

I realize that Theo is looking at me and quickly look away.

I’ve talked to him a few times before but I really tried to stay away from his friend group. Except Enzo and Blaise, they’re really the only two I get along with well.

Being friends with the golden trio is nice but that just means that Draco’s friend group bitches about it all the damn time.

Harry walks back over, holding a tray in one hand with everything we need. He stands behind me, placing his free hand on my shoulder as he leans over me in order to place the tray on the table.

My eyes widen as a reaction at the touch. It’s not necessarily a touch that most people would think about however, I wasn’t used to people being physical with me.

#TouchStarved, I think to myself before cracking a smile at my own humor.

Theo and Blaise’s table is right behind where Hermione and Ron are sitting so I furrow my eyebrows when I see Theo staring directly at me still.

Ah shit he looks pissed.

I avoid eye contact with him because we all know that a mad Slytherin really isn’t someone you want to be around. Although I can’t help but wonder if he’s pissed at me for something. I never talk to his friends though so there shouldn’t be any problem.

I brush it off as Harry begins speaking.

“Alright. Um- could you hand me that knife?” I nod at his question, grabbing the blade next to me and handing it to him. He nods in appreciation.

Soon enough the potion is done and was a great success. Harry and I were really happy with how it turned out since this would be very important for our grade.

Harry and I smiled at each other and raised our arms, celebrating the victory. Harry’s hands make contact with mine in a double high five. At this I smile even bigger, entwining our hands before he pulls away.

We begin laughing as Ron groans, upset with how his potion was turning out. Hermione rolled her eyes before grinning at the Potter boy and I.

Harry had the greatest idea of standing up from his stool and pulling me to stand with him. Our hands were still locked as he began to make me dance with him. At first we were doing the waltz that we were taught for the Yule ball but after he spinned me, I came back to him and instead of having our hands together, he settled for placing his hands on my hips.

He began using his hands to guide my hips in a very different dance than the waltz.

My hands were around his neck as my hips swayed from the pressure of his hands. And honestly if we were at a party this would seem extremely sexual, but since it’s just Harry and I, it’s platonic fun.

Although it definitely brought yet another blush to my face, but I was like 100% sure that Harry didn’t like me. I think he’s just a very physical person when he becomes close with people.

The Professor looks over at us, staring us down as we both laugh before scrambling away from each other. Rushing to sit down before we got yelled at.

Once the Professor looks away, a note flies over and hits Harry in the glasses. He picks up the note with his eyebrows tensed in confusion. We both look over from where it came from and it was definitely from Theodore Nott.

The only way I could be sure is when I saw him motion for Harry to read the note.

I watch as Harry reads over the words. Clearly becoming more and more confused, stealing glances between me and the note.

“What is it? What’s it say?” I vocalize, inquisitively.

He shakes his head as if he were clearing an echa sketch. But instead of a drawing, he was clearing his thoughts.

“Ah- um- it’s nothing really.” Harry stutters, licking his bottom lip. Which I’ve become aware is one of his nervous signals.

His eyes connect with Theodore, who in return stares back. His stare is clearly more frightening since he has what I like to call “dead eyes”.

Those eyes are absolutely gorgeous but when the light fades from them when he’s pissed, it’s the most terrifying thing.

I make eye contact with Hermione, having a conversation with just our eyes. Asking about what’s happening seeing as the two boys look like they’re holding back to urge to jump the tables and punch each other in the face.

Granger shrugs.

I quickly try to gain control of the situation again by calling the brunettes name. “Harry?”

“Hm?” Instead of breaking eye contact with Nott, he just makes a hum of acknowledgment.

“What’s wrong? What did the note say?” I whisper to him, trying to cover our chat from Theodore.

Potter doesn’t make an effort to say anything, instead he throws the note in front of me to read. I pick up the note and begin reading from left to right.

“Back off from what I’ve been trying to claim.” Is the only sentence written on the piece of parchment.

My mouth drops open in surprise, my mind immediately drawing the dots together like Stiles does in teen wolf.

Man he’s a smart character. But also really stupid.

I get off track with my thinking, refocusing on the important thing at hand.

But honestly, I don’t care all that much. Is that a bad thing?

Now that I know why they’re both death glaring at each other, I can only feel my stomach erupt into butterflies.

I crumple up the note, trying to be sly as I slip it into my pocket but I see as Harry’s jaw clenches and Theo now has a shit eating grin on his face.

It lasts for a couple more seconds before Potter breaks eye contact first, scoffing at the Slytherin. Harry stands abruptly and turns to leave the classroom. Ron following after him as I hear the ginger exclaim, “Bloody hell mate!”

Hermione and I look at each other again, an expression on our faces that is making it very evident that we both thought that was attractive.

Like oh my god, two guys getting jealous and possessive over me.

Perhaps it is wrong to find it attractive but I love feeling wanted.

Class soon ends after that, Harry and Ron never returning back for anything. Hermione is left to pick up after them while I exit the class. Hermione agreed to cleaning up, knowing that my next class is basically across the school and with all the moving staircases and students. It’s just torture to arrive on time.

I walk as swiftly as I can, dodging people and walking between random people in order to reach my destination.

But before I reach my class, a hand is promptly placed on my upper back. I look over my shoulder to see Theodore standing tall over me. His hand still resting on the small of my back, showing his possessive and dominant side. Practically towering over me as he guides me over to a private area.

Which happened to be a janitor’s closet. He opened the door and gently but still roughly shoved me inside. He steps in after me, clicking the lock.

I was about to speak up but he cut me off.

“I want to make you mine.” He said with a completely straight face as he put it bluntly. His voice low and deep as he kept eye contact with me.

I froze with my eyes wide as a small smirk formed on his lips.

“What? Cats got your tongue, Amore Mio”

Oh okay that got me a little bit.

I feel a small wave of attraction wash over me, something so intense for just a moment it could visually be seen in my eyes.

“Oh oh ohhhh, you like it when I speak Italian don’t you, Dolcezza?” He inquires, his eyes searching my face for some kind of a reaction as a smile grows on him.

And the answer to that question is 1000% yes but why would I admit that???

Unfortunately my body betrays me as I swallow anxiously, giving him the flustered response he was hoping for.

He could literally be calling me a cunt in Italian and I wouldn’t know except based on his tone but I would still find it attractive.

His captivating eyes look down at my lips as he closes the space between us. He slowly looks back up into my eyes as he gets on his knees in front of me.

Oh I like that too.

Theo grabs my arm gently, placing a kiss on my inner wrist as he still keeps eye contact.

My stomach flips and I shuffle a little closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He questions, and holy shit I swear to god if he doesn’t look away I will because his eyes are literally hypnotic.

I nod but it’s not enough for him. His eyes are trained on me, pulling me down to be level with his height.

“Words.” Is all he says. Yet it’s such a powerful thing for me to hear right now.

“Yes, yes you can kiss me.” My face heats up, I turn my head away from him out of embarrassment. But he just grabs my face with his hands, aligning the kiss.

He hovers over my lips for a moment,

“If I wasn’t about to kiss you, I would’ve beat Harry bloody for the way he touched you.”

And just like that, our lips meet.

#slytherin boys #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #yandere theodore nott #theodore nott #harry potter #possessive #stalker #yandere #lorenzo zurzolo

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cosmonautroger · 22 days

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Talking Heads, Artists Only, 1979

#Talking Heads #Artists Only #1979

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perpetua · 1 year

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Talking Heads by Bonnie Schiffman, Rolling Stone November 1979

#talking heads #david byrne #tina weymouth #chris frantz #jerry harrison

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

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Housewife

Part - 4

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, hinting masturbation

Part 1

"This is my favorite outfit so far." Tatum clapped as you spun around. The outfit in question was a checkered skirt matched with a sleeveless mock turtleneck top. Thankfully the stockings you bought yesterday had yet to fail. You kicked up your white go go boot striking a pose for a laugh. "This whole style choice of yours is dick repellent." Randy said, opening up his granola bar. You snatched it from him taking a bite. "You'll have to give me some tips then because I'm pretty sure you get more dick than all of us combined. And that's including Stu so that says something." Stu pointed at you surprised at the sudden dig. "How'd you know?" He said making the group laugh harder. Randy grabbed his granola bar back not caring you had just eaten part of it. You laid down on the concrete resting your head on Randy's lap.

"Since when did you two get so close?" Stu asked knowing about how hostile yesterday was. "Since I found out she's a lesbian." Randy joked. Billy looked at you seemingly to give the idea some thought. "She can do whatever she wants to it's a free country, as long as she invites me to watch." Stu said and Tatum shook her head. "Me and Randall here made up in 2nd period. He's not so bad when he's not babbling on about shitty horror movies."

Randy stands up knocking your head forward. "Okay which is better Texas Chainsaw Massacre the 1974 original or Aliens the 1979 original?" Billy scrunched up his nose like that was even a question. "Texas Chainsaw Massacre no contest." Billy spoke and Stu echoed his answer. Even Tatum put her two cents in. "Leather face is in Texas Chainsaw Massacre right?" Stu nodded. "Oh then that movie." Everyone looked at Sydney to give the last answer. "Don't look at me I haven't seen either of them." Billy laid back down mimicking your position.

"Aliens is by far a better choice because-" Stu started throwing grapes at him not missing a single shot. "Booooo!" You laughed at Stu happy to know the crowd agreed with you. "Told ya." You chimed as Randy sat back down. "What are you two doing tonight?" Sydney asked Stu and Billy. "Probably chill at my place, watch some movies. Why you wanna come?" She shook her head. "I was just curious." Sydney said picking at her nails. "Welp I'm going to split. If I don't see ya have a good weekend." You waved them off as you went back into the school. Walking the halls you headed towards the nearest bathroom.

You propped your purse up on the sink pulling a compact out. Funny enough the bags under your eyes seemed softer than they've been in months. "You sure are in a good mood today." Billy said as Stu locked the door. You jumped at his voice clutching imaginary pearls. "Did we scare you?" Stu asked leaning on Billy. "What gave it away Sherlock?" You closed the compact sliding it back in your purse. "You two shouldn't be in here." Stu bent down to check under the stalls. "Relax we're the only ones here." He said standing back up. "Still, being a girl in a bathroom with two guys that have girlfriends isn't really a good look for me."

"It's not like we're going to have our way with you." Billy watched your body tense up at Stu's words. "Unless you'd want that of course." You were uncomfortable. You'd like to say you trusted them but you'd only known them for 3 days. "Lay off man." Billy shrugged his friend arm off his shoulder before talking again. "We just came in here to ask about tonight. I'm running by the video store after school, what movie do you want to watch?" You calmed down just a little seeing Stu smile at you. It was genuine not one with two meanings behind it.

"Any movie? Or are you wanting horror movies?" Stu hopped up sitting on the sink. "We're watching Christine first." Billy looked at him then back to you. "Whatever you want to watch." It was a risk. He wouldn't sit though some boring ass chick flick. Not even for you. He's seen one too many with Sydney. "Have you seen Ferris Bueller's day off?" Both the boys shook thier head. "Are you being serious? It's one of the best movies ever." You said shocked. They highly doubted that but they let you have your moment.

You and the boys made plans for tonight. Billy would stop by the video store to pick up Christine, Ferris Bueller's day off, and he refused to tell you what he picked out. Saying "it's a surprise." You volunteered to cook dinner. They argued saying they could live off popcorn but you wouldn't allow it. Anyone staying at your house would be having a home cooked meal. Stu was simply bringing himself and a deck of cards.

The bell rang and you quickly shoved your school supplies in your locker leaving them for the Monday to come. "Are you ready to have your mind blown?" Stu's hands blew away from his head as he stuck his tongue out faking an explosion. "I doubt your little movie is that good. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Stu tried to hold hands with you which you quickly shut down. "If you're worried about Tatum and Syd they're both already gone. Dewy picked them up." You were worried about them. You were also worried about that giddy feeling crawling back up your chest. "I'm not worried I'm appalled. I'm not some cheap whore you know?" You walked backwards for a second to catch his reaction.

"I'm well aware of that Ms. Crocker." The two of you cracked jokes and had playful banter as you made it to your car. "Do I get to pick music this time?" With the puppy like expression on his face he already knew your answer. "Sure but you're not going to like the options." You both slid into the car, Stu going straight for the glove box. "Elvis, Beatles, Boston, the Bee Gees? Really?" You looked at him with a smile. "Don't shit on the Bee Gees." You said holding back a laugh. The car pulled out of the parking lot heading straight to your place. "I care about you but we've got to do something about this." He held up a Carpenters tape with a look of shame on his face. "Most of these aren't even mine okay?" He simply hummed with doubt.

"Whatever you say Betty." He grabbed one tape pushing it into the tape deck. "This, I can get behind." He said confident in his selection. "What'd you pick-" Stu's finger rested on your lips. "Shh let it play." You swatted his hand away with a smile. Space Oddity began playing to your surprise. "I learn something new about you everyday." You said as he began singing the words as horribly as he could. He might be a little on the annoying side but he sure could make you laugh. At some point you chimed in. You both sang the songs together laughing at each other back and forth. Stu wasn't so bad.

"Put the tape back where you got it." He said "yes ma'am" as he slid it back into the glove compartment. You clicked the garage door open and slowly pulled your car in. The car became quiet once you pulled out the key. You closed the garage door, you and Stu hopping out at the same time. "Make sure to take your shoes off before you go in." You slipped off your boots carrying them inside. "Just bring your shoes up to my room." Stu didn't want to fuck this up but you made it too easy for him to make jokes. "You're taking me to your bedroom?" He said as cheesey as humanly possible. Before you could come up with a snarky response he pushed you out of the way.

"Holy shit this place is ugly!" Your face dropped as you closed the garage door. "I love it!" He exclaimed walking to the kitchen. "Is that a compliment?" You asked genuinely confused. Stu paused for a moment sniffing the air. "What is that smell?" You chuckled at his concern. "It's the pot roast." Confusion painted his face. "You started cooking this morning?" You smiled sheepishly. "Well yeah I knew you two were coming over." He might've just fell in love with you. "Come on let's put our shoes up and get dinner done before Billy gets here."

Stu looked all around not being able to look at one thing for too long. "Woah this is your room?" He admired the posters on your wall first. "The one and only." You grabbed his shoes sitting them up on the rack next to yours. "You like these movies?" He asked like you had them up there just to start conversations. "Of course I like them. That's kinda why I bought the posters."

Stu had to revaluate everything he thought about you. "You know your place reminds me of Dazed and Confused." You lit up at the name. "Oh my God I love that movie!" Stu took a second to really look at you. He thought you were hot from the second he saw you. That feeling hasn't changed any but there's definitely more to it. "I saw it in theaters like 4 times. You know you don't have such bad taste after all." You fake gasped. "I have amazing taste you just wait."

"Speaking of taste I've got to get started on dinner." He followed you to the kitchen with a question. "Isn't it already done?" He must not cook a lot. "The roast is yes but I've got to make mashed potatoes to go with it. Oh and do you want Macaroni and cheese or green beans?" He was definitely in love with you. "Why are you doing all this?" He asked his voice kind of sad. Stu really hadn't been a priority or even cared for, for a very long time. "Because you and Billy are my guests and I'll be damned if you leave here without having a good meal. Now Mac and cheese or green beans?"

Billy pulled into the driveway slowly as to not attract attention. It would be his ass if Sydney and Tatum saw his car over at your house. Before he could knock he stopped to listen to the sound of your laughter paired with Stu's. It was a pleasant sound but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. His knuckles made contact with the wood alerting you and Stu both. "I'll get it. Keep stirring the mashed potatoes so they don't stick." Billy knocked once more. He wasn't very patient. "I'm coming!" You opened the door waving Billy inside. "Where's your coat it's freezing out there?" It was then he realized he left his jacket in the car. There was no way that unbuttoned flannel and white t-shirt was providing him any warmth.

"Hey buddy!" Stu waved from the kitchen. "I need you to open the garage so I can pull my car in." You made a stirring motion to Stu noticing he stopped. "Yeah give me one sec." You said to Billy as you opened the door to the garage. Clicking the button on the wall the door slowly lifted up. "Thanks babe." He said as he walked to his car. "Babe?" You whispered as your chest grew tight. "Betty help it's bubbling!" Stu shouted your nickname. You shook your head walking back into the house. "The heats too high." Slowly you turned the knob and the bubbling stopped. "Have you tried some yet?"

"No." He said but the small dot of mashed potatoes on his nose said other wise. Your thumb swiped off the food from his face and he knew he'd been caught. You wiped your hands on your apron. "Was it good?" He dipped his finger in the pot pointing it towards you. "Try it." He tried to smear it on your face but you wouldn't let him. "No!" You shouted with a laugh running around the kitchen. Stu chased you around the table laughing as much as you were. "What is going on? I can hear you all outside." Billy asked as he shut the door to the garage. "You really wanna know?" Stu asked.

It was too late. Now Stu chased Billy leaving you to laugh at both of them. "Get near me and I'll bite your fucking finger off Macher I mean it." You were belly laughing at this point. "Okay guys calm down the foods done. Billy, the plates are up there can you set the table?" Without a response he grabbed the plates. "Stu can you get the silverware? It's in that drawer." You pointed to the wood cabinet. "On it." Stu grabbed one of everything sitting them on the placemats next to the plates Billy sat down. You were busy moving the mac and cheese into a pyrex dish. "Someone sit this on the table." Billy and Stu both jumped to help nearly knocking the hot food out of your hands.

You awkwardly laughed at the silence. "Don't worry I've got another one." You handed Billy the glassware, quickly filling another one up with mashed potatoes to give to Stu. "I've got iced tea, lemonade, soda and water." You opened the fridge showing them what you had. "I'll have Dr. Pepper." Stu said and you handed him the glass bottle. "Billy for you?" Both the boys looked flushed. "What's that at the bottom shelf?" Stu pointed. You bent down seeing a bottle of Coke.

Unbeknownst to you every time you bent over the tops of your thigh high stockings were on display. Billy's eyes followed the black line from your ankles all the way to the little black bow at the top. Stu looked over at Billy trying to read his mind. "It's Coke. Did you want this instead?" You asked. "I'll take that." Billy grabbed it from your hand. "Let me get you two the bottle opener." You pulled out the drawer grabbing the opener and tossing it to Billy. "Where's your bathroom?" Stu asked politely. "Down the hall and to the left." With speed he left the Dr. Pepper on the table and practically sprinted to the bathroom.

"What's his problem?" You asked Billy. He only shrugged. Although he knew exactly what his problem was. It was the same problem he was starting to have. Billy sat down at the dinner table popping the lid off of his bottle. "Thank you." His was quiet but not silent. "You're welcome. It's the best I can do. Do you want your roast on top of your mashed potatoes or separate?" He thought about it for a second. "Separate is fine." You nodded grabbing his plate from the table. You put a good amount of roast and vegetables on his plate before sitting it back down in front of him. "Smells good."

"Let's just hope it tastes good." You laughed. "But thank you. Stu helped quite a lot actually." That was surprising. Living with Stu, he got take out 5 days a week and the other days they barley ate at all. Neither Billy or Stu cooked. Not for lack of trying on Billy's end. You placed a spoon in the mashed potatoes and in the Mac and cheese before fixing you a glass of water. You sat it down on the table picking up Stu's plate. Once he had a good amount you put his plate back where you got it.

"Is he coming?" The question almost made Billy laugh. With the Coke bottle up to his lips he said "Probably." The joke went clear over your head. In the meantime you hung your apron up and sat the salt and pepper down on the table. "There you are. I thought you fell in." You smiled and he returned it. Billy's eyes found Stu's having a silent shameful conversation. The last thing you did before sitting down was fix your own plate. While you put food on your plate Stu went ahead and grabbed his fork. Before he could eat Billy kicked him under the table. "Ow!"

"The bowl's hot." Billy made an excuse for his friends outburst. You went back to what you were doing as the two had a conversation. "Wait for her." Billy mouthed. Stu's lips formed an 'o' as he understood what he meant. You finally sat down with them finishing putting food on your plate. They both waited patiently for you to take the first bite. "Do you think I poisoned it?" You asked wondering about their odd behavior. "No but you cooked it so you should get to eat first." There it was again that giddy feeling. "Oh..." You said with a smile.

You had never seen two people eat so much. It made you think they'd never had food in their lives. Both bowls were completely empty and the poor crockpot looked like it'd seen hell before. "That was the best damn food I've ever had." Stu exclaimed. "Thank you, Y/n." He said grabbing your hand on the table. "You're welcome. If there's one thing I can do it's cook." Billy's head laid on his crossed arms on top of the table. "Is he dead?" You whispered to Stu. Your hand rubbed Billy's back slowly hoping he wasn't sick. "You alright?"

"I can't move." He mumbled against the table cloth. You bit your lip trying not to laugh. Billy sat up his head falling back over the kitchen chair. A moan left his lips from how much he ate. Stu saw the way you straightened up in your chair. Your eyes raked over Billy's exposed neck. His adams apple on prominent display. "Damn." Billy sat up looking at you. "What's wrong?

"Huh?" You asked furrowing your brows. "You said 'Damn' like something was wrong." Stu really couldn't help but laugh. "What's funny shit face?" He asked his giggly friend. "Oh nothing. Leave the dishes I'll clean them up." Billy rolled his eyes. In all his years being friends with him he had never once seen Stu clean a dish. "You don't have to do that I'll do them later after you guys go home."

Home? That thought never crossed either of their minds. They didn't want to go "home." "Listen I love hanging out with you both but I seriously can't have two grown men in my house staying the night that I barley know. What if you robbed the place?" That was your concern. Billy smiled at the innocent worry. "Then you'd get what we stole back monday at school. Don't you have a guest room we could stay in?" You did but it was used as a junk room now. There's no way you could clean it out tonight. They could stay in your dad's room but considering that's were the guns are you'd rather not. "Do you even have something to change into if you were to spend the night?"

Stu jumped from the table going to grab his bag. "I brought mine and Billy's clothes." You put your head in your hands as you groaned. "Fine but you're both sleeping on my bedroom floor." If that's what the rules were then so be it but they knew how easily they could bend them.

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21 @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n

Part 5

A/N: I haven't proofread this yet so I apologize from any misspellings. I'll be going through it again tonight. Hope everyone's enjoying it so far!

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cazzyf1 · 22 days

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pls tell me everything you know about the 1982 drivers strike i think about it often

Right I about to go into as much detail as possible about the driver's strike while hopefully keeping it comprehensible.

*cracks knuckles*

Let's go.

So to give some overall context to the situation, Bernie Ecclestone was doing some meddling. He had control over the Formula One Constructors Association (FOCA) which meant he could negotiate contracts between teams, track owners, television rights, etc. Realising the sort of power Bernie Ecclestone was getting, the Federation Internationale de I'Automobile (FIA) put Jean-Marie Balestre in charge. There was a big power struggle between these two however both Ecclestone and Balestre united against the drivers in 1982.

At the start of the 1982 season, a new license called a 'super license' was put forward for the drivers to sign. This license was based on other sports, like football's transfer systems, meaning the drivers had fewer rights - their team owners essentially owned them. For example, the super licence meant a team could keep drivers to one team for up to three years, even if the drivers wanted to leave. This happened after, in 1981, Alain Prost was racing for McLaren, and he became convinced that the car wasn't safe. He refused to drive for the team, though he had a contract. He said if necessary, he would walk away from the sport altogether. Then Renault approached Alain Prost, and he joined them. A new license was created to prevent this situation from happening again.

1982 was also the season that (at the time) 2x World Champion Niki Lauda decided to come out of retirement. In 1979 he had been racing for Bernie Ecclestone's team 'Brabham', but halfway through the season, he walked away, finding no more interest in the sport. Eventually Ron Dennis, who ran the team 'Mclaren' tempted Niki back into the sport.

Niki was sent the super license a few days before the start of the season to sign, and being a stickler for detail he made sure to read through all of it. In reading it, Niki realised the control the team owners would have over the drivers and did not approve of it. Quickly, he rang up Didier Pironi who was head of the drivers association, to talk him through what he had found. Didier agreed that these licenses were bad and then called all the other drivers, telling them not to sign the licence. They had been late though, as 24 had technically already signed as they hadn't properly read the licence. The only ones that hadn't were Lauda, Pironi, Villeneuve who had seen something similar in ice hockey and didn't like it, Arnoux, Giacomelli and de Cesaris.

In South Africa, Kyalami the track was prepared for the drivers to start practising, and the drivers were arriving in their normal cars. But before they could get out on track, a bus pulled up with Niki Lauda and Pironi in it. Without their knowledge, Niki and Didier had managed to borrow a bus from Trevor Rowe and were ready to take the drivers back to their hotel at the Kyalami Ranch. They rounded up all the drivers and told them of their plans, and while they were hesitant, eventually, most of them were convinced to get onto the bus. Only two didn't. Jochen Mass, who was late (He's always late, someone said) and Jacky Ickx.

The team owner of March, John McDonald, caught wind of what was happening and tried to prevent the bus from leaving by parking a van in front of the bus. Jacques Laffite got out of the bus to move the van, accidentally stalled it, but eventually got it out of the way. The bus then set off, taking the scenic route back to the Sunnyside Park Hotel while every news van and car chased after the bus, getting clips of Niki Lauda looking out the back of the bus and waving at them.

Eventually, they arrived, and all of them strutted past the journalists and went into the hotel. Thus ensued a fun time for the drivers relaxing around by the pool for the day. However, things back at the track were not shaping up well.

Bernie Ecclestone and Jean-Marie Balestre were pissed. The race organisers threatened to impound the cars, Bernie Ecclestone threatened to sue the drivers, and Balestre announced if the drivers didn't come back, then they would all be fired. Bernie Ecclestone had already fired the drivers from his team, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Patrese. The mechanics put signs out joking advertising for new drivers. Didier Pironi was doing the main negotiations for the drivers at the track and reporting back to Niki Lauda at the hotel on how it was progressing. During the evening, when dinner was being served, the driver's wives and girlfriends, who were still at the track, started throwing bread rolls at Balestre.

Didier Pironi arrived at the hotel and explained that if they didn't return and drive immediately, they risked life bans. Niki Lauda realised that this strike would last the night, and he knew that if all the drivers returned to their own rooms, the team principles would easily be able to convince them to abandon the strike. They needed to stay united, which meant literally sticking together. He arranged to take over the conference room in the hotel and have all the spare mattresses brought into the room.

All the drivers moved into this one big room, and soon, the entertainment started. Many of the younger drivers felt quite panicked about the whole situation, worried that they would be fired for going on strike, which would have ended any career in motorsports, so they went to the older drivers like Niki for reassurance. Niki tried to lighten up the atmosphere by telling dirty jokes. Bruno Giacomelli, who was quite passionate about machine guns, got his hands on a chart and gave a presentation on how to take a gun to bits. There was also a piano in the room, and driver Elio de Angelis, trained to play the piano, performed for all the drivers. Everyone there said it was the most beautiful playing they had ever heard. Gilles Villeneuve also had a go playing a few joyful pieces.

The team owners and journalists had by now discovered that all the drivers were hiding out in this one big room, and they were trying to get in. At first, Niki gave an interview by the door, but he ensured no one would leave the room. One of the team principles, Mo Nunn of Ensign, had brought the driver, Guerrero's girlfriend, along as a bargaining trip. Niki made sure to accompany Guerrero to see his girlfriend. He said that the situation could have brought a tear to your eye. Eventually, they got the girlfriend away from the team principal and into the room. Team principal Jean Sage of Renault tried to get to Prost and Arnoux but was beaten off.

At this point, the team principals grew frustrated and decided to break into the room, so the drivers had to use the piano to barricade the door.

Then night came, and it was time for the drivers to get even closer. There were not enough mattresses for one each, meaning all the drivers had to bunk up. Many funny photographs have come from this event. Alain Prost and Giles Villeneuve shared a mattress, which led to Patrick Tambay saying if a child came from this, all the others might as well give up.

There was a problem with the toilet as there was only one and it wasn't in the room. There was a key to the toilet and so the drivers agreed to leave it in the middle of the room so they would know if someone left to the toilet and didn't come back. One driver, Fabi, ended up going to the toilet but did not come back.

During the night, Carlos Reuntemann or Keke Rosberg snored so loudly that Gilles Villeneuve threw a blanket over them to cover the sound.

In the morning, all the drivers got up, trying hard not to sniff the odour of the room and got ready to head to the track as Didier Pironi had been able to successfully negotiate a licence they were happy with. No drivers were fired, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Paterese were rehired, and the race was successful. There were fears that the drivers could be arrested at the airport, but thankfully, that didn't happen. Instead, they were fined for taking part in the strike, which, while it didn't affect some drivers who already had plenty of money, it wasn't ideal for the drivers who were just getting started.

This is as much as I am able to remember; if you know anything more or if there is something wrong in this let me know in the comments below! Hope you enjoyed the read :)

#classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #1982 drivers strike #niki lauda #alain prost #didier pironi #gilles villeneuve #elio de angelis

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putonyourbathingsuits · 1 month

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Dick Clark interviews Talking Heads on American Bandstand (1979)

#talking heads #david byrne #tina weymouth #dick clark #american bandstand #my gifs #DBedit

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theunderestimator-3 · 3 months

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The Underestimator Mixtapes - Post Punk Dancefloor

Two hours of mostly-'80s post punk, new wave & funk/disco/jazz-related sounds guaranteed to spin you round like a record.

Available for online streaming on Mixcloud:

https://www.mixcloud.com/the-underestimator/the-underestimator-mixtapes-post-punk-dancefloor/

Download as separate mp3 tracks in a zip file on Mediafire or Mega:

https://www.mediafire.com/file/en6l3od3e3mci8x/THE+UNDERESTIMATOR+MIXTAPES+-+POST+PUNK+DANCEFLOOR.zip/file

[Don’t be alarmed if you are denied access: In case you get the error message “Permission Denied” prompting you to download a copyrighted song via Amazon or sth, you should be aware that this is a Mediafire trick to discourage you from downloading when the uploaded file includes copyrighted material, so they can appear legit in the eyes of the copyright holders. If you close the tab and try a couple of times or more, the link will eventually appear (don’t refresh the mediafire page, it doesn’t work that way, just open the link from the underestimator post to a new tab, then close it and re-open it in a new tab a couple of times or more).]

https://mega.nz/file/PuwCSBwJ#m4Ywwi9aRyvsiYZhIPB7YQBaUFrYYl_yJ4CSwFd46X8

Download some more playlists posted on The Underestimator Mixtapes series, here.

Lost In Music (Sister Sledge cover) – The Fall (1993)

Adolescent Sex – Japan (1978)

Heart Of Song – Josef K (1981)

Do The Du (Casse) – A Certain Ratio (1980)

We Got Soul - Big Boys (1982)

Shoot You Down – APB (1981)

Tear You Apart – She Wants Revenge (2005)

OBCT –Sleaford Mods (2020)

Heart & Soul - Joy Division (1980)

Optimo – Liquid Liquid (1983)

Same Beat – Marine (1982)

(secret track)

UFO – ESG (1981)

Wipeout Beat – Alan Vega (1983)

Nerve – Shriekback (1984)

Funky Stuff (Kool & The Gang cover) – Lizzy Mercier Descloux (1982)

The Comb – The Waitresses (1978)

You Fascinate Me – The Offs (1980)

Crosseyed & Painless – Talking Heads (1980)

Overpowered By Funk – The Clash (1982)

Black Arabs – Black Arabs (1979)

You’Re My Kind Of Climate – Rig Rig & Panic (1982)

Black Leather - Nightmares In Wax (1985)

Love Song – Simple Minds (1981)

Bostich – Yello (1981)

Der Mussolini – DAF (1981)

Some Aspects – Chain Of Command (1983)

The Night Watch – The Bellewether Syndicate (2012)

50:50 – Sad Lovers & Giants (1984)

I Found That Essence Rare – Gang Of Four (1979)

Super – NEU! (1973)

(Cover photo: dancing in the early-'80s at Duke’s in Austin, Texas, by Ben Desoto).

#the underestimator mixtapes #playlists #music

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eskawrites · 8 months

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It’s 1979, and every day, Barb wears a dark purple bracelet around her wrist. It’s pretty, although a bit more basic than what Nancy would normally wear—just a simple band of woven fabric, and a little star charm dangling from the middle.

“Where’d you get it?” Nancy asks her one day out of the blue. She does that sometimes—asks people things without any lead up. Her mom tells her she’s inquisitive. Her dad just says she asks too many questions.

Barb never seems to mind. Over the last few weeks of getting to know each other, there’s never been a question that Barb isn’t happy to answer.

This one seems to make her sad, though. She holds her arm up and twists her wrist a little, watching the charm catch the light.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she says. Nancy is old enough to recognize the twinge of jealousy for what it is, but she isn’t quite old enough to understand why it’s there.

“With who?” she asks anyway.

This time Barb does hesitate. She looks around the middle school cafeteria, but they’re the only ones sitting at this end of the table, and the buzz of students is loud enough no one can really hear them even if they decide to pay them any mind. Not that they ever would. Nancy and Barb tend to fly under the radar.

“You know Robin Buckley?” Barb says, lowering her voice.

Nancy shrugs. She’s heard the name. It’s a small school, after all.

“She has the other one,” says Barb. “My parents took us to Indianapolis a few summers back. A lady at the mall was making them. I got purple for her favorite color. She has pink for mine.”

“And the star?” Nancy asks. She reaches out without really thinking about it, holding the little charm in her fingertips.

Barb smiles. “We used to stay out in the park for hours after dark, watching the stars. She knows all the constellations, and a bunch of old stories about them. She knows a ton of stuff like that. She’s pretty cool.”

“You guys don’t hang out anymore,” Nancy feels the need to point out. But Barb just shrugs.

“Yeah. We had all different classes last year, and I guess we just drifted apart. I say hi when I see her in the halls sometimes, but we just…don’t really talk anymore.”

“Oh.” Nancy lets the charm go. Barb lowers her arm and picks up her fork again. “We could get friendship bracelets.”

Barb’s eyes light up. “I saw some charms and stuff at Melvald’s the other day. We could make some!”

“Let’s do it,” Nancy decides. “When you spend the night Friday, we’ll ask Mom to take us to Melvald’s.”

“Deal.”

It’s 1983, and Nancy has a pink bracelet—with a pen charm, not a star—that she keeps in a shoebox of all of Barb’s things.

She only pulls it out and looks at it when she knows it’s a bad idea; when she’s already one bad thought away from breaking, and she holes herself up in her room so she can push herself recklessly over the edge.

She takes the bracelet in her hands and runs her fingers over the soft, time-worn threads. Pink for Barb’s favorite color. Barb had a soft, sky blue for hers. She thinks about that bracelet, dangling around Barb’s wrist while she drove them to Steve’s house, tied to her still, soaked in blood and rot as she decays in the Upside Down.

Nancy tucks the bracelet into her pocket. If Barb’s association with Nancy led her to her death, then Nancy’s association with Barb can mark her until the day she dies.

It’s 1985, and when a new girl walks up with Steve, Dustin, and Erica, looking terrified and in shock, the first thing Nancy sees is a pink bracelet around her wrist.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Nancy asks.

“I’m Robin, I work with Steve.”

But that’s not the answer. She’s not Robin who works with Steve. She’s Robin who carries stories of the constellations in her head and memories of Barb on her wrist. Robin, with a pink bracelet and a star charm that, quite frankly, looks ridiculous among the leather bands and thick rings she wears.

The group sits down once they’re finally all together. They exchange stories and make a plan, and all the while, Robin sits off to the side, on her own.

Nancy thinks about Barb sitting on her own by Steve’s pool, her gaze turned down and her shoulders stiff around her ears. She watches Robin curl up and hug her knees to her chest, and that damn pink bracelet is all she can see.

It’s 1986, and Robin complains every step of the way as Nancy wrangles her into a blouse and skirt.

“You should lose the rings,” Nancy tells her. “They’re unprofessional.”

“Gee, thanks,” Robin mutters.

“You can borrow some of mine if you still want to wear them.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pulls the rings off one by one, dropping them onto Nancy’s desk with small, satisfying clunks. She shakes out her hands when she’s done, and Nancy watches that star charm bounce back and forth along its soft pink band.

Robin notices her looking. She covers the bracelet with her hand and scowls.

“The bracelet stays. I’m not taking it off.”

“That—that’s fine.” Nancy thinks she should say something else—she’s not sure how they’ve gone this far without talking about it—but she can’t stop staring at it.

Robin’s shoulders slump. Her grip on the bracelet shifts and she runs her fingers over the charm, her expression turning sad.

“Sorry,” she says softly. “I just—I got this because of—”

“Barb.”

Robin meets her eyes.

“She told me,” Nancy says. “She—she still wore yours.”

And for the first time, it occurs to her that Barb was wearing a purple bracelet that night, too. That there has always been a part of Robin Buckley rotting in the Upside Down along with her, along with Nancy.

Maybe they were all doomed, intertwined, forsaken from the start.

“A purple bracelet,” Nancy says. “And a star charm. Because you liked watching the stars together. She said you knew all the constellations. She said—”

Robin’s arms are around her the second her voice breaks. She hugs her close, and Nancy swears she can feel that star charm pressing through her shirt.

It’s 1989, and Robin is moving box after box from her house with Steve into Nancy’s apartment.

It takes all day to get her clothes in the closet and her desk into the second bedroom they’ll use as an office and her frankly excessive collection of tapes onto the bookshelf in the living room. By the time dinner rolls around, they’ve both decided everything else is a job for tomorrow, or the day after, or next week.

But before they go to bed that night, Robin digs through a box of photo albums and picture frames to pull out a small, black shadowbox. She holds it carefully in her hands and walks over to where Nancy stands by the bookshelf. Nancy takes it from her with a soft, sad smile and reaches up to place it on the shelf. She feels Robin’s hand on her waist, and she steps back to tuck herself into her side.

They both look up at two pink bracelets, a pen charm and a star charm, hanging safely side by side.

#something-something childhood friendship bracelets and the way you never really know how to let them go #ronance #and barb!#ronance fic #(???? it's at least 1k words we'll it that)#ronance drabbles #that's the one!

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kimpossibly · 1 year

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

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