After seeing Steve in action around the kids Eddie starts calling Steve “mom Steve” in his head. It slips out one night when the older kids are hanging out, but thankfully only Robin hears. She ends up shooting soda out of her nose from laughing.
They end up teaming up to get Steve a mug that says “MILF” for his birthday after that.
also is it just me or did literally every single genderfluid person ever latch on to eddie munson like their life fucking depends on it
if i was a cat would u pspsps me
Me during Eddie’s guitar solo
Pros of listening to The Amazing Devil on headphones: You can hear every. single. intimate. little. detail. Every sigh. Every laugh. Every growl. The heartbreak in Madeleine's voice when she tried, she really fucking tried. The menace in Joey's whisper when he denies, "No, no, not I." You could drown in the oceans of tenderness in the love songs. Discover the secret, almost subliminal secondary tracks hidden underneath the main vocals. Delve into the soundscapes of bird song, wind, waves, and even urban traffic that enrich various stories. Wrap yourself in the warmth and fondness of Joey and Madeleine's affectionate banter.
Cons: You cannot hear yourself and you have no idea how loud you're singing along until someone records you wholeheartedly yelling, "This here is not singing, I'm just screaming in tune!!!" and you discover that you were not, in fact, in tune. >.<
I’d love to make Tommy Shelby sit through Eurovision but specifically Ukraine’s 2007 entry
It’s been 17 years this year since my grandma passed away, 15 since my grandpa. I was 7 and 9 respectively when I lost them. The older I get the more like a punch it feels because I’ve lived a whole live without them, I’d already lost a chunk of my support network before I was even in double digits.
What hurts the most is I can’t remember them. I can’t remember their voices, or their laughs, or things we did together. I remember the year and a half between them passing flying by but I can’t remember their laughs. I feel like I’m missing a chunk of me and I’ll never be able to get it back. I wish I’d had the chance to get to know them as people, to talk to them as an adult. I’d give anything for just an hour, I just want to know if they’d be proud of me.
Listening to The Amazing Devil is not enough. I need it tattooed onto my body, I need it injected directly into my veins, I need every note permanently engraved onto my bones