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@soulkicked
oh, but I can feel a kick down in my soul / and it's pulling me back to earth to let me know / i am not a slave, can't be contained / so pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave, 'cause
independent & private multimuse run by charles. rules. | muses. | memes.
i still feel alive / when it is hopeless, i start to notice / that i still feel alive / falling forward, back into orbit
little psa- if you are someone who blog hops, who disappears for weeks or months at a time without any warning, makes one new blog after another, only writes with a few people from time to time, only posts memes and disappears, only posts headcanons and disappears-
then you're totally valid and i support you completely. you're doing what's best for you, and doing that on your own time. if anyone ever has an issue, they're not worth space in your head, much less a worry on your dash. <3
here’s the thing is that i simply don’t care if ted and rebecca end up together. could they? sure. would i be mad? not really. but i’m not frothing at the mouth for it looking for signs in every episode bc it doesn’t feel like that was the point of the story and i don’t think that’s where it’s going to end?? i’ve seen someone say rebecca’s story has been about love and i’m so so happy for her if she gets to resolve that by the end of this series but i think ted’s journey was about something different so i’m not of the opinion that his truth bomb is gonna be an i love you
thinking about him (john murphy)
tutorgirlcommissions . hayden . she / they . you can choose to blame your circumstances on fate , or bad luck , or bad choices . or you could fight back .
#i’ve connected the two dots #i’ve connected them
i've been in survival mode as far as my mental health goes but i've saved a url to slowly work on a blog for billy, so at some point that'll happen
between the last two episodes of djats and the new fall out boy album both dropping ( on the same night no less ), i’m a new person
me realizing billy is my most active muse and i really should have made this multi my main blog but i am NOT going to get shadowbanned again for no reason i stg
#roy kent just wants it to be quiet TED LASSO (1x01 / 3x01)
@soulkicked sent in: “Don’t look at me like that” from billy dunne
“I’m not.” But she was. Daisy knew exactly the sort of look she had been giving Billy, the same kind of bullshit look she’d seen him give her, the same ones Karen had warned the redhead about. Not that she really gave a shit, because they all knew Billy was head over heels for his wife- at least, that’s what every song they wrote and sang said. That’s what Honeycomb was all about, his promise to Camilla, the lyrics Daisy still sang wrong because she thought it sounded better.
A ringed hand runs through her fiery locks, getting out a few knots here and there; it’s just the two of them, another late night in the studio with both of their perfectionist selves. Working together has, admittedly, gotten easier, Daisy has to admit, even as she’s taking a shot of Jack from the leftover bottle, settling the nerves that’ve decided to show up. She watches as Billy packs up his guitar, watches his hands, and before Daisy can even stop herself, before she can remind herself of the gold ring on his finger, she’s capturing his lips with hers.
And the really fucked up thing? She only feels him bring her closer, one hand at her waist and another at the back of her head as if he were afraid she’d disappear, and it’s then that Daisy knows. She knows he’s thought about this before, but as she’s the one to break the kiss, ocean eyes on meadow green, she also knows this has to be it. Out of their systems, that tension that was evident has to be gone now, doesn’t it? Besides, she never, ever wanted to be a homewrecker, but when the person you know you’re connected to, who understands you more than anyone ever has can’t be with you…
Freckled and fair cheeks are pink from the alcohol and drugs in her system, Daisy knowing now more than before, she’s a goner for this man, and the worst part is, she knows this is the end of it. They’ll go home and sleep, come back in the morning and act as if this didn’t happen; he’ll call Camilla at lunch or she’ll come by the studio, and Daisy will do another line. Nothing, nothing can happen-
“Billy, I-”
I’m sorry, I fucked up, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean it.
"it's fine, daisy." he says it without hesitation and without bite. it's gentle, the way it comes out, like he's doing nothing but trying to comfort her. it's really similar to the voice he uses when he talks to julia as she's crying, soothing and steady. it's his everything-is-going-to-be-okay voice, which really sounds like he believes it. he doesn't, not right now. his hands are still on her waist and in her hair, his forehead is still touching hers, and his heart is ready to leap out of his chest. he wants to kiss her again, wants to pull her into his lap and make a million bad decisions in a row. but he's taking slow, easy breaths, and he's trying to keep himself together. even still, he doesn't let go of her.
"we've been writing together. it's natural to--- to feel close to someone you're being vulnerable with---" his resolve is breaking, and it shows in the way his voice cracks and the way the hand in her hair curls more tightly closed, his fingertips stroking the base of her head. his head tips, nose touching hers, and his breath comes out shaky.
then he catches the scent of whiskey on her breath and before he can stop himself his mouth his on hers again.
he feels a little like he blacked out for a moment, because suddenly both of his hands are at her waist but beneath her shirt, calloused hands pressed into her skin, and his mouth is on her collar. okay, he thinks, this is definitely less fine than i thought. there's a part of him that feels like he's leading her on like this, that knows there's no point in going down this road because he's never going to leave his family, but there's a stronger part that just wants to know, at least for a little while, what being with daisy would be like.
he's being selfish, but that doesn't feel like anything new.
@soulkicked asked: “i know you’re mad when you can’t look me in the eyes.” ( from billy! )
camila wasn't blind. ( sometimes, i wished i could be blind and not witness things. ) she could see the exchange they were having on stage. could see the chemistry like the others have witnessed in their band practice. even though, she wasn't there all the time, she liked to have her eyes and ears there. words of reassurance from karen wasn't enough. following them for their album cover was the declic that started it all in her mind. though, she know deep down there wasn't going to be anything happening, there is still worries. something she know hold to hide. but not anymore. at his words, the brunette turned around, closing the magazine she was reading as she contemplated what to says, what to ask as her eyes feel on him.
" oh, so i do exist now ? " she know being difficult wasn't going to help. she just can't help it. the cold tone she was using must says it all, right ? ( there were a lot of fight. *a pause as she inhaled and exhaled while looking at the camera.* on my part, i think. it was mostly me. wished i could sometimes turn my tongue before speaking my thoughts out loud. being the jealous type ? it was kind of something for me. )
her response almost startles him. he doesn't think she's really been so angry with him since he got back from rehab. it's not really an awful thing, he thinks, and that surprises him. it doesn't hurt him as badly as he expected for her to be so upset with him. what it does instead is awaken something in him, something that cares so deeply for her and julia that it would fight and fight to hide what he was feeling even if it meant losing in the end. he pushes down the urge to get defensive right off the bat, his jaw clenching a little. "of course you exist, cami," he says, stepping closer to her.
( one of the things about daisy that made me feel so alive was that she would fight with me. i mean, she was right, no one would fight me anymore, because i'd done so much work to prove myself. the reason i'd done all that work in the first place was that camila had been willing to fight with me for it. )
"you know it's just an act," he tells her, as if he even knows that. but it feels like if he says it enough, maybe he can believe it, and then everyone around him can believe it to. then it'll become real. "me and daisy. it's to play it up for the performances. i can't--- i mean i really can't stand her sometimes."
@andthe6 | continued.
billy rolls his eyes at graham's reaction, smiles in that wide, genuinely happy way, and he reaches up with a hand to hit the backs of his fingers against his brother's chest playfully. "shut the fuck up," he laughs out, and turns around to start walking back to the house. his steps slow a little as he begins thinking, imagining camila in a white dress, a smile on her face as big as the one that had just been on his own, and then his feet come to a stop. "yeah," he says, surprised by the confidence in his own answer, " i mean, one day."
You’re going back to your room, calling your wife, and telling her you love her. You’re going to talk to your daughter, let her tell you all about fingerpainting. And you’re going to forget this ever happened the second you walk out that door. It’s what Daisy wants to say, what she knows she should say. The hotel room smells of her perfume, his cologne, and sex, and she feels warm; not from the sun, not from the body beside her, but something else. Daisy knows it’s wrong to want to keep this up, because of Camila and little Julia, but Jesus, she can’t help how she feels. Billy understands her struggles, her demons, and maybe she has a suspicion what drove him to her room at all, but... He did that himself. Why did it have to also be on her plate to worry about Camila? To carry that guilt? Daisy wasn’t the one with a ring on her finger.
That moral compass she was holding onto? Shattered.
When he pulls her closer for a kiss, she lays a hand against his cheek, the stubble prickling against her palm, and she can feel the desperation from him. It’s not sexual as it was the night before, but something else that Daisy prays she never has to understand; being pulled in two directions. “Nothing,” the redhead mutters in reply, her nose brushing his, her lips softly kissing his cheek. “There’s no us,” then moving to his jaw, “There’s no we.” Whatever happens between them is bound to crash and burn, Daisy already knowing she’s going to be the one holding the gasoline canister to divert focus from Billy.
No one expects Billy Dunne to be caught in an affair, but they do expect it of Daisy Jones.
Pulling away suddenly, she reaches over to the phone on the nightstand, tucking the receiver between her ear and shoulder. "Hi, this is Lola La Cava in room 204, and I would love a pot of the strongest coffee you have, and whatever danishes are your favorite. M'hm. The same one on file, yep. Thank you. Oh, just leave it outside, I'll get it," bright, forced tone falls as she hangs up, Daisy then opening the side drawer open and removing a small gold container. Palming it and popping it into her mouth, she takes a sip from the water glass on the dark oak table. If they were going to have this kind of talk, she at least didn't want to be totally sober for it; face everything head on? Impossible.
Looking over the slope of her shoulder now, Daisy breathes deeply. "What do you want to do?"
the feeling of her lips against billy's jaw and the way her auburn hair brushes his skin when she's close sends a shiver through him. he can feel himself ready to get lost in her, to avoid his problems by letting daisy be his stimulant, but then she pulls away from him and picks up the phone before he even has a chance to react. his eyes follow her, eyebrows tugged down, and he realizes what she's doing. she's making him do it. again. she's solidifying that this is his choice. it doesn't feel like she's cutting it off as an option at all, but she's not going to be the one to put it in motion. once again, this is unpleasantly sobering for him.
he pulls his hands from behind his head and uses them to push himself up into a seated position. he sees daisy pop a pill from the corner of his eye, then turn to look at him, and he feels his heart sink somewhere deep beneath his stomach.
"what i want is to take one of those," he says bluntly, maybe a little too honestly. he hadn't really wanted to let on that he'd imbibed the night before so he pivots, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and pulling his boxers up off the floor to his waist, hoping that she wouldn't be able to know for sure that he had. he stands, brushes the back of his hand beneath his nose, and says, "maybe i should just go, because i can't--- i can't think about what i've done, and then look at you take one of those fucking pills and not---" he gestures to her with one wild hand, the other on his hip, and he looks helpless. he looks weak. he is.
he's known for so long that he wasn't strong enough to be the man camila and julia need him to be, and it is so, so hard trying every single day. he's so tired. tears sting his eyes, and the morning light catches in them. the hand he'd used to wave at her comes up to his face, grabs over his mouth, and pulls downward. he's trying to hold himself together, trying to give himself a moment to think, and it's clear that he's having a hard time doing it either with her or the drugs in the room. ( it's both. )
"what i want, daisy," he begins, and there's a steadiness to his voice that at least says he's made some kind of decision, whether rushed or not, "is for you to tell me you don't feel for me the way i feel for you, so i can walk out of this room and know that walking in again wouldn't feel as incredible as it did last night."
DAISY JONES and BILLY DUNNE in DAISY JONES & THE SIX: Episode 3
@amthesomebody | continued.
billy thought he knew shame. he thought that he'd gone toe to toe with it, really confronted it, and maybe he hadn't defeated it but he thought he at least had a deep understanding of it. he thought he'd hit rock bottom, and that maybe he'd never really get very high again, but he couldn't get any lower. he knows now that he was wrong. the way he says, "you do know we can’t go back to the way we were," it doesn't sound like something he's proud of or excited about. it sounds like a looming inevitability, that sooner or later their lives are really going to implode because of this, and he doesn't really mean to think that it won't be bad for daisy when this gets out, but he has more to lose.
yet he'd been the one to knock on her door.
his jaw tightens and his mouth twitches a little, lips curling up tightly on one side, then the other. he wants to lie to himself, tell himself that he didn't enjoy it too, but he did. he enjoyed all of it, the alcohol and coke that lowered his inhibitions and led him to her door, the way their bodies fit together, the way they're lying together naked in the quiet morning sun now. "i did too," he says in that same tight, low voice. tears sting his eyes. he's so fucking sober. the hands resting beneath his head are shaking, that's why he moved them there, and the lump in his throat feels like it's going to choke him.
since he can't have a drink, he does what he can instead, which is take a slow, deep breath, roll onto his side, and pull her into a kiss. it's a little sudden, a little desperate, and he whispers against her mouth, "what are we gonna do?"
