you and me and the devil makes three

beck hendrix - 36 - veteran and manager at ormont's repairs “he in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace.”

[rocketcandycouture]

Headcanon meme~

[xander-matthews]

rocketcandycouture:

Put a symbol (or several) in my ask box, and I’ll give you a headcanon.  Yes.  Do it.

☾ - sleep headcanon

★ - sad headcanon

☆ - happy headcanon

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

♡ - romantic headcanon

♥ - family headcanon

☮ - friendship headcanon

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

▼ - childhood headcanon

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

☼ - appearance headcanon

ൠ - random headcanon

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

[beck-hendrix-blog]

lolabrink:

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with Beck! He’s a cool guy!” Lola protested, always a champion for the indie underdogs of music. Then the actual, live Beck in front of her asked a question, and Lola had to make a noise and shake her head. “Are ya kidding me right now?” Her eye caught a Stooges sleeve in a corner, a battered and used copy of Combat Rock, a Joni Mitchell perched high up on a shelf. They were all treasured gems she greeted every morning, old friends. “I couldn’t possibly choose. What if someone asked you, Rufus or your motorcycle?!” 

Beck thought on that for a moment, cocking his head and trying to see things from her perspective. “Well one takes me where I gotta go, but the other is more like my son,” he said, counting on his fingers for emphasis. “I think Rufus would be selfless and want me to pick the motorcycle so I could get to work, just because he’s that much of a stand-up guy.” He brought the vinyl to the front, surveying the counter for any new updates in the shop. “Or it could be just so I could go get more peanut butter bites. Those are his favorite now, by the way, thanks a lot for bringing those into his life. You’re essentially God in his eyes now. How does it feel?”

[beck-hendrix-blog]

micahblanchard:

“… I totally meant to do that,” Micah said with an awkward laugh as he finally managed to get through the door properly. He felt like the person in front of him was owed some sort of explanation, so he began rambling, “There’s some guy out there walking around with a cat on his shoulder, and… yeah, I got distracted. Okay, whatever. Let’s start over - hello!”

“Man, where’s the fire?” Beck asked, checking his watch. Being in line at Once Upon A Tart this early in the morning shouldn’t have been possible. He was barely hanging on by a thread, dealing with a hangover at 8 am and trying to remember what the guys in the garage wanted for coffee. “I used to walk Mr. Bigglesworth on a leash. Safety first, bro.”

[beck-hendrix-blog]

angeporter:

Her eyes followed his finger as he pointed to a man on the ground. Her mouth rounded to an ‘o’ as she processed what he was saying and what she was seeing. She had seen a few things while in college, but things like this reminded her just how sheltered her life had been up until this point. Right. “Oh,” she said, unsure of what else to say. “Well. That’s good, I guess?” Her brows furrowed as she tried to process. “Um – yeah. I don’t know.”

Beck laughed the awkwardness between them away, rocking to the beat that rang from the establishment. “So, this your first night out?” he asked, observing the clean-cut girl up and down. “Dumptruck’s a pretty big staple here at Tavern.” She didn’t seem like most of the other wild kids that crashed their little bar on the weekends. In fact, she seemed a little out of place, and he could tell, though he wouldn’t make her feel different for it. He preferred the comfort of home to bars anyway, especially now when nothing sounded nicer than a warm, cozy bed.

[beck-hendrix-blog]

angeporter:

There was something comforting about being in a college bar, even though she was no longer in college. But she was close enough in age to most people in the bar that it was fine. She was trying a new thing where she went places by herself, and she wasn’t sure that she liked it. She’d gone outside to take a breath, trying to figure out what she wanted to do, when she heard someone address her. “Hm? Oh. No, I don’t, sorry.” She offered an apologetic smile. “It must be pretty smart – getting out of here before everyone starts throwing up.”

Beck removed the cigarette from his mouth, suddenly saddened that his smoke break turned to a freeze-your-ass-off-instead break. An array of vomit and blood littered the alley outside the bar in which he worked, the ground painted in moonlight. He swayed through the misty evening, a chuckle escaping his throat. “Oh, this is just the beginning of the throw up stage, doll,” he said with the quirk of an eyebrow. “See that guy over there?” he asked, pointing to a man passed out on the ground. “That’s his home on weekends ‘round this time. We call him ol’ Dumptruck, because he’s a dumbass.” Beck approached him, boot nudging the man passed out on the ground, causing him to groan and tug the bottle in hand closer to his chest. “Okay, he’s not dead. We’re good.“

[bob-belcher]

[beck-hendrix-blog]

alexbautistax:

It wasn’t often Alex allowed herself to be dragged into clubs - she was much more of a wine and cocktails at Tavern 24 or Celino’s kind of girl - but her sister had insisted, promising them a good night and, so far, it had only caused them to bicker. “I’m going to go, Ally,” she called back, tugging on her jacket and headed outwards, acknowledging the way her twin rolled her eyes, downing another drink. Sometimes, she wondered how they were related and tonight was easily one of those nights. Tugging her jacket close to her, she escaped through the crowded nightclub and out into the night, starting when she heard the voice from beside her. Despite the low base rumbling through the building, it was a stark contrast between inside and out, and she’d simply been thankful for the silence once she’d left. “Shit, no, sorry,” she replied, shaking her head. “I don’t smoke.” But Ally does… Thrusting her hand into her jacket pocket, she produced her twin’s lighter. Serves her right. “Scratch that… Here you go. And, uh, that screaming is probably the girls I just left… Sorry about that.”

Beck frowned at her response about not having a lighter, only to raise his eyebrows in utter excitement when she finally procured one. He was a bit like a child at times, and the energy he had was contagious. He dragged the lighter up to the cigarette tucked between his teeth, the words coming out a bit slurred as he spoke. “Thanks, love,” he spoke as he covered the cigarette, keeping it from going out in the wind. He took one long drag and shifted his eyes back to the girl, eyeing her up and down. “What’s your story? You come here often?” He hadn’t seen the girl around before, though he certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know her.

[beck-hendrix-blog]

lolabrink:

 “’Ah didn’t know that. Wow. Really?” Always some bit of trivia she missed out, as much as she liked to collect them. Once he found what it was he was looking for, Lola leaned forward from her spot behind the desk, curiosity filling her as to what record he’d been so eagerly looking for. “They didn’t name me after that, actually,” she said with a smile, looking down at her hands. That song in fact had found its way into her life sophomore year when a now-ex boyfriend introduced it to her. “I doubt my momma would’ve liked me to be named after a woman that turns out to be a man.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. I wish I had a song. I just got Beck, or Jeff Beck, who are both pretty cool, though they’re kinda weirdos.” He said with a shrug of the shoulders, thinking on that for a second. “Some of the best folks in rock are, though.” He pulled the record out to inspect it for scratches, having an eye for a good record. It was pristine and pretty cheap, too, and he could tell this place hadn’t changed a bit. “Out of everything in here,” he began, spinning around to observe the store, “what’s your favorite record?”

[beck-hendrix-blog]

kel-tavarez:

Abigail was pulling him towards the park, tugging on his already sore arms from moving boxes and furniture. Little Ella was in his other arm, and thankfully, too tired to be crying. By the time they finally made it there, Kel practically fell onto a park bench and sent his older daughter off to play, Ella sitting into his lap while his knee bounced up and down. After a moment, he realized he wasn’t alone on the bench, and he looked to the side. “You have kids?”

“You want mine?”

Beck let Rufus off the leash, allowing him to run free in the designated dog area. He smiled after noticing Kel beside him, leaning in towards the little girl with a sort of tenderness that usually eluded the hulking man. “Oh hey, man,” he said with a smile, shifting his focus to his daughter. “She’s so cute, dude,” he gushed like a mom in church, captivated by the baby. Children held a special place in Beck’s heart, and he was always extremely sweet with them, knowing how precious and important they were. “What’s up, darlin’?” he asked before making a variety of silly faces to make the little girl laugh. “Want me to hold her? Looks like you got your hands full.”

[lolabrink-blog]

“I mean, you just can’t deny, that pretty much all the greatest bands were British— The Beatles, The Who, Led Zep, Stones, Floyd, Queen. I feel like we’ve had lots of great individuals in our music history, Clapton, Hendrix, Morrison… But bands were never our strong point.” Of course she would fall down this rabbit hole and go on a total non sequitur, something Lola couldn’t help doing even when the topic was seemingly totally unrelated. Clearing her throat, she shook her head, her way of an apology. “Anyway, you were sayin’?” 

[beck-hendrix-blog]

“Hold on peaches, did you call me?” he asked, pausing from thumbing through records to glance over in the girl’s direction. He genuinely thought his name was being called, eardrums a little ringy after a boxing match in the gym that morning. Then he connected the pieces, and understood what she was talking about. “Oh, sike,” he said with a laugh, a little embarrassed. “Did you know Hendrix used to lace his headbands with LCD? Dude was a fuckin’ balla.” He let the silence sit between them for a little bit, finally finding the record he had been searching for. “Here it is. Looooola. L-O-L-A, Looooola,” he sang out, blowing the dust off the record and winking at her. “Your parents had good taste.”

[beck-hendrix-blog]

Beck pushed through the crowd and into the night, tugging out a cigarette from his jacket pocket with the shake of his head. He knew the crowd was mostly college kids, but this was too much. Not only was it a little too wild for him this late, but his patience had just about run as thin as it could go with bad dancing, drunk selfies, and too much noise in his already-fuzzy ears from years of middleweight boxing. Regardless, he knew not to take it with him on his break, and he shook off the anxiety big crowds usually brought him into the chilly night sky. He held the cigarette between his lips, searching his pockets for a lighter, but coming up empty. “Hey, you gotta light?” he asked the person next to him, wondering if the last lighter had been left in his dirty pants, now in the wash. Awesome. “Mine ran away. It can’t stand all the white girl screaming.” 

[beck-hendrix-blog]

wanted connections!

car trouble? -- in this scenario, your character has car problems and needs to be serviced. beck is the manager at ormont’s repairs. so he’s bound to run into them at some point and we can get something going.

is that my dog? -- here, your character has found beck’s runaway pet, and have decided to ask if it’s his. he could take them out to lunch on him, i imagine this going lots of different ways.

police connection -- the case of beck’s mother’s murder has been re-opened, and your character and mine spearhead the hunt to get his father prosecuted so that justice can be served. preferably this would go to a character in the police force, though your character could be a close friend providing support.

aa meeting -- self explanatory, your character and mine meet at an AA meeting and the two can either hit it off and bond over life, or not, we can talk about it.

in the club -- beck is a bouncer at the bronze on weekends, maybe your character gets their ass grabbed in an unsolicited fashion and beck has to step in. a fight could occur, an ambulance could be called, what have you. it could get wild here.

[aseaofquotes]

Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro

[juu-lee-ahh]

[beck-hendrix-blog]

hello loves!! coco here, and this is my peanut beck. please like this post if you’d like to plot, and i’ll be sure to message you! :^) thanks