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#next in getting the first two records on vinyl i just have to save up for the next bandcamp friday
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BIKINI KILL CD ARRIVED EVERYONE CHEER AND CLAP
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probablyintensemuses · 3 months
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Dating Armando Aretas Would Include:
Grumpy x Sunshine Edition
🎧- Enchanted: Taylor Swift
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pairing: Armando Aretas x black fem! reader
themes: grumpy x sunshine w/drabble
warnings: mentions of trauma & abuse, strong language, and a bit of gore.
authors note: I saw Bad Boys 4 again last night and it’s really refueled my Armando obsession, so more headcannons, drabbles, and fics on the way.
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✨First Encounters✨
You and Armando meet in the worst of circumstances.
He, his father, and Marcus were on the run as wanted men, and you were the first person Mike thought to turn to after the attack at Tabatha’s.
Which he wasn’t wrong, you’d give your left kidney to Mike he’s saved you so many times.
You had let them into your small apartment, offering them clothes, food, and shelter until they could get in touch with the rest of the Ammo team and sort this shit out.
Armando had taken an interest to you then. Your house was warm and cozy, lived in. A small, plush couch, next to a coffee table littered with medical books. A kitchen stacked with teas and espressos , a dresser with vintage vinyls and a record player beside it. This was the kind of house he’d like to live in if he lead a different life.
You remember walking over to him, a picture of your parents and you when you were young in his hands.
“Those are my parents,’ you say. “I was ten then.”
Armando’s gruff exterior takes over though, and he doesn’t give you as much as a word back, let alone a thank you for feeding and housing literal fugitives.
You figured it was just him though and let it roll off you back like water.
You all got some sleep and the next day Mike asks you to drive them out to Dorn’s house on the dock. You agree and begin to load up the truck with guns, water, food, and extra clothes for the drive.
This is when Armando starts to question who you are and the legitimacy of your actions. Last person Mike trusted fucked them over, and he wasn’t having that shit again.
So he pulls his father aside and confronts him on the situation: you.
“How can we trust her?” Armando says, not far out of earshot of you.
“She’s good for it, trust me.”
“Didn’t you say that the last time and we got sold out. Don’t forget there is fucking five million dollar bounty on our heads. We can’t trust no one!” He whisper-shouted.
Mikes shoulders dropped. “I saved her life when she was younger, and I used to work with her parents. Trust me, she’s not going to pull a fast one. Because if she was, she would have done it already.”
Armando looked over at you, you’re dressed in a tank top, and that’s when he notices the cuts and burns littering your left arm. He sucks in a deep breath eyeing Mike who looks at you with sympathy too. There’s a story there, he’ll piece it together later, but for now he guesses you’re his only hope of getting out alive.
✨Post-fallout ✨
After you didn’t screw them over, and got them safety to Dorn’s, Armando found himself limping towards your apartment, blood trailing behind his feet.
Mike had sent him, and for some reason, at that moment, your place felt like exactly what he needed.
With the last of his energy, he banged on your door. Shortly, you answered and immediately went into panic mode.
The moment you let him inside, Armando crashes to the floor, passing out.
You screech and get every first aide equipment you have on hand and begin to bandage him up and stop the bleeding.
It took two bloody, sweaty hours, but you eventually got him all closed up.
Armando woke the next morning in a bed he didn’t recognize. This sent him into a frenzy. He went to shoot up out of the bed, but the soreness of his injuries knocked him back down.
“Fuck,” he moaned, grabbing at his torso.
From the living room, you turn down your headphones at the sound of movement. Armando must be awake.
Two days of rest, not bad.
You move towards the microwave and reheat the breakfast you had made him, pour some orange juice, and bring a whole heck of a lot of water and pain-pills.
Tray in hand, you kick open the door and slip inside your bedroom.
“Good morning.” You smile, setting the tray on the bed by his side. “How do you feel?”
“What the fuck did you put in this.” Armando asks, eyeing the food.
“Eggs, bacon, and toast.” You snicker.
Armando lifts a piece of toast, taking a bite. “If I die from this, I’ll kill you.”
“Noted, Sarg.” You salute.
You watch Armando eat his food with a smile on your face.
Eventually he looks up at you scowling. “Why are you staring at me.”
You shrug. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You say truthfully.
“Well,’ Armando takes a swig of water, downing the pills. “Go be happy somewhere else.”
Your shoulders drop and you let out a sigh, you knew Armando was tough, but geez, you practically saved his life. Would it kill him to be a little nice?
But still you smile when you say, “okay, well if you need me, I’ll be out in the living room studying. Feel free to roam around, I don’t mind.”
It was a couple hours before Armando had come out of your room, limping over to the kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.
“I’m making dinner right now,’ you say, pausing your television show. “It’s a roast with veggies.”
“I want a beer.” He grumbles.
“Well I don’t have beer, but I do have wine.” You say, pointing to you collection of reds and whites.
“ I don’t want wine.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”
Armando comes over to you, cornering you into the tiny space between your sink and the counter. “Get me a beer.”
“Let’s start over,’ you stick out your hand for a shake. “I think we’re at a misunderstanding of our situation.”
Armando frowns at your response, grumbling Spanish curses under his breath and walking away, slamming your door like a toddler.
The roast was done, and eventually you got Armando to come and have dinner with you…kind of.
He sat on the couch and watched the news, for updates on the status for his search, and you sat at the table, contemplating what to do with him next.
✨Enemies, Friends, Roomates✨
Mike had told you harboring Armando would only be for a short while until he could figure something out with the D.A’s office….that was three months ago.
Eventually you got your bed back, Armando taking the couch, but not your sanity.
Living with Armando wasn’t easy. He was brash, stand-offish, stubborn, and mean.
You did everything to try and form some kind of bond with him, even buying him gym equipment offline, but it just never clicked for him.
Not until one night when you’re studying late for an exam and happen to fall asleep at the kitchen table, books all around you.
That’s when you fall into a nightmare. The man who ruined your life the star of the show, again.
It always starts the same. You and your parents living happily at the park. Your parents watch you as you swing higher and higher, giggles filling the air. Then a man appears at the edge of the park, beckoning your parents over. You scream and shout for them but they never turn back, they keep going to the man. And when he has your parents in his grip, he brandishes a knife, slicing them open.
You let out a blood curling scream, slamming awake and falling to the group. Sweat sticks your curls to your face as you cry and gasp for breath.
Armando’s up in a second, swarming you.
“Estás bien?’ He pats you down, checking you out. “What’s happened to you?”
You can’t do anything but cry. The man who’s ruined your life, he’ll never leave you…he made sure of that in many ways. His latching to you is so deep that you can’t even escape him when you sleep.
You finally are able to get some words out, tell Armando, “I had a nightmare. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,’ he helps you stand. “Maybe you should get some sleep in your bed.”
You’re shocked by his response, but you’re even more shocked by the way he helps you to your room.
“What are you doing?” You asks, confused.
“You just flew out your chair from a nightmare, what do you mean what am I doing? I’m helping you.”
“Yeah, I get that…but you never help me.”
Armando sighs, holding his hands at his hips. “You gonna tell me what it was about, or should I leave.”
You sigh. “When I was younger, my parents worked for the Miami Police Department. They were detectives and before I was born they ended up helping catch this serial killer. His name was Gunter Bennett but the media called him “The Gutter” because that’s how he killed. Years later, somehow he escaped prison. That’s when he came for my parents. He killed them in the middle of the night.’ You take an uneasy breath, finding birth relief and shock when Armando’s hand slips into yours. “And I was sure he was going to kill me too, but he didn’t…he did worse. He kidnapped me and kept me at some shithole for three years. Three.”
You rile up your sleeves and show all your burns and cuts. Armando remembers them from the first day he met you.
“It’s how I got these. That sadistic bastard,’ you cry. “He tortured me.”
Armando feels something in him snap hearing your story and seeing the ways it’s effected you, even now. He knows what it’s like to be harmed and loose the people closest to you.
So he shocks even himself with what does next, scooping you up like a wounded bird and nuzzling under the blankets with you.
You whimper and sniffle in his arms and he just hushes you, stroking your curls.
“It’s going to be alright, niña bonita, he’s gone now.”
Slowly, the exhaustion of work, school, and your tears overcome you and you both drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.
✨My Lover✨
Armando was jealous.
You two had just spent the day out shopping, laughing and talking. Hell, you two live together! And yet you’re grinding on another man at the bar?!
The glass in Armando’s hand shakes and chips as he squeezes it further.
“Relax, muscle milk. You’ll break the glass.” Marcus says.
Armando scowls at him.
“I’m just saying, if you love her, tell her.” Marcus shrugs, walking away.
Armando scoffs. Love? Yeah right.
Did he feel close to you, yes.
Want to spend every breathing moment with you, yes.
Touch himself in the shower thinking about you, yes .
Oh fuck…he did love you.
Fuck! He loved you and you’re grinding another man!
Armando pushed out of his chair, it clattering to the ground in his wake.
He stalked over to you, grabbing your wrist and putting room between you and the man you danced on.
“ ‘Mando, what are you doing?” You stumble, clearly drunk.
“Let’s go.” He grabs you, chest heaving.
“Hey, wait!” You swat at him as he drags you through the bar and out the exit. “Why would you do that?” You whine.
“Because you’re drunk.” He rolls his eyes, slinging his leather jacket over your naked shoulders.
“I’m not!’ You whine, stumbling, luckily Armando catches you with ease. “I am.”
“You are. Let’s go.” He says, slinging you and carrying you bridal shower.
“Ah,’ you say, wrapping your arms around Armando’s neck and snuggling into him. “My knight in shining armor always takes such good care of me.’ You lean over, smacking his butt with a giggle.
“Shut up.” Armando says, resisting the urge to crack a smile.
Home, Armando tucks you into bed. He’s just about to walk away when you snatch his wrist, pulling him on top of you.
“Let’s play a game,” you whisper.
Armando rolls his eyes. “What kind of game?”
“Truth for truth. I tell you a truth and you do the same. “I’ll start.” You giggle.
“Tonight went exactly how I planned.”
Armando pulls back. “What do you mean by that?”
You shake your head and pout. “Uh uh. You’re turn.”
Armando sighs. “I don’t actually find you that annoying…anymore.”
“Ah, I knew it!” You laugh.
“Knew what?”
“Game over.’ You slump and snore, pretending to sleep.
“Stop it, you knew what?” Armando lifts you.
You bop his nose. “I knew that you loved me.”
Armando’s eyes get big. “What?”
“Me and kelly paid that guy to dance with me. We knew you’d get mad and that was all the proof I needed.”
“You’re a dick.” He starts to walk away, but you grab him by his belt loop.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” You pull him back. “But you don’t have to be shy.” You hiccup.
Armando grumbles, nuzzling his face into your stomach. “And why’s that?”
You lift his head, angling it to face you. “Because I love you too.” You lean forward, placing a firm kiss onto his plump lips.
Armando reciprocates, opening his mouth turning the kiss fierce and hot. He climbs on top of you, mumbling against your lips. “And I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”
You giggle. “Feels good to be bad for a change.”
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spamgyu · 5 months
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hell n back // vernon drabble
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it was rare for him to have a day off, even rare for it to fall on the same as yours.
the two of you had decided that the best way to make use of this once in blue moon event was to lounge about in your shared apartment – enjoying one another's company before he is forced to go back to his tireless schedule.
you watched as your boyfriend fiddled with the sound system at the corner of the living room – mumbling something about wanting to play you his new favorite song. you always did admire his love for music, the two of you using this shared interest to naturally govern most of your conversations.
there was evidence of this throughout your apartment; the main one being a wall of vinyl record covers from both past and present hip-hop artists you two enjoyed listening to. right below this display was a large mid-century modern wooden console; holding your boyfriend's prized possessions.
a turn table and radio system.
it wasn't long before the sound of the artist whistling blared through the speakers; vernon turning to you with a large grin on his face.
"come here." he held his hand out for you to take.
laughing, you set your phone down to accept his offer – allowing for him to take lead and sway along with the beat.
"could you tell where my head was at when you found me? me and you went to hell and back just to find peace" he sang along with the artist, bouncing to the trumpet that played. "the lyrics– it reminds me of us."
you listened closely to the words being played, allowing it to transport you back in time to when you had first met him. both of you weren't at your lowest, but you two were definitely not at your best – simply cruising through life with the intent to survive.
before him, you had gone through a list of men who had broken your heart – giving up on love itself.
and he was the same.
people did say that the best kind of love was found when you weren't searching for it – scoffing at the idea until you met him.
it came so naturally; meeting vernon had possibly been one of the best things to happen to your life and he could say the same.
he had no intentions of starting a relationship when he had been introduced to you through a mutual friend, but by the end of the night, vernon couldn't get enough.
hell, half way through hearing you rant talk about pharrell's influence in the music industry – he had been sold.
vernon wasn't the type to ask someone on a date the same day he had met them; it was as if you had put him under a spell and he hadn't been able to shake it off since.
if soulmates were real, vernon had found his – you.
"oh, but I'm here now baby. no life been lifin' lately, so I save you if you save me. i was over love, I had enough, then I found you." now it was your turn to sing along, catching him by surprise.
"so you know the song?" he gasped.
"i was the one that showed it to you." you laughed.
"hm..." his bottom lip jutted out, as he tried to sift through his memories.
"four months ago– i sent it to you."
he was overseas at the time, attending some award show; if you recalled correctly.
"baby give this song a listen [spotify link]"
halting your movements, vernon slapped his hand on his forehead – he remembers. "ah shit..."
"it's okay." you shrugged, walking over to the couch as the song wrapped up.
"brain fog has been so bad lately." he sighed, plopping down next to you. "i hate it."
with his nonstop work schedule, it was no surprise that he had seemed to be forgetting quite a few things – but you paid no mind to it. it came with the title of being the girlfriend of one of the members of one of the most popular k-pop group.
it was minor details anyways, and he's human after all.
"do you at least remember me?" you teased.
squinting, vernon played along with the bit – tilting his head to the side. "looking like my future girlfriend."
you pursed your lips. "that's crazy, because i'm taken."
"leave him." vernon leaned closer.
"nah," you shook your head before leaning in as well, allowing for your lips to brush against his briefly. "he's a catch."
"doubt it." vernon snorted.
"he is! he's got this stupid smile, always tells the dumbest jokes, makes the best burnt grilled cheese–" you listed.
"ah! you said you liked it crispy!" he cried, earning a laugh from you.
"that's called softening the blow."
"can't catch a fucking break." he groaned, slouching in his position.
to anyone, this sense of domestication would be boring, but such mundane acts couldn't help but warm your heart.
he wasn't the performer you would watch from your seat, the guy who you watched on your phone screen – he was your boyfriend, the man who you swore you would spend the rest of your life with.
he was a silly boy, making silly jokes – letting you in on the personality that he hid away from many.
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PERMANENT TAGLIST
@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy
@yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult
@alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu
@bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx
@daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed
@joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv
@yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose
@wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell
@raginghellfire @kriizztin @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @porridgesblog @bbysnw
@squashcolouredskies @viewvuu @black-swan-blog27 @got7svt6
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omegaremix · 3 months
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Record Store Victory Tour, 2018.
Having three shoulder operations to beat cancer has been the ultimate life victory thus far. It was the most amazing and largest outpouring of support ever. Friends, family, allies, co-workers in good-standing, and even names whom I haven’t seen or heard from in years came to congratulate me and wish me onto a speedy recovery. I don’t know if nine months is what you call “speedy”. Nine months of shoulder replacements, ten weeks of in-home nurse visits, a MRSA infection, six weeks of in-home intravenous antibiotics, and missing two label showcases were balanced out with staying up until 4AM every morning finding endless music (Negril, Robert Ashley, and Steve Khan to name a few), daily postings, heavy amounts of sleep, and Dad’s daily deliveries of free food full of steak, sushi, pizza, chicken, egg rolls, and pasta. With a nine-month blackout period of not leaving the house ever, you had to make the best of it. I knew that after this I would never ever answer to any random nobody about my shoulder. And looking back at it, I say to myself as to why I even let it go so far.
Working for a great company and playing your cards right, you could sit and collect benefits while staying at home doing almost next to nothing. I now had more money in the bank when I last left work. So I promised myself that after I fully recover, I’d treat myself like I never had before. I decided that I would go on a record-store victory tour. I would hit up each and every independent record place, go crazy, and buy up everything I can. After nine months of being bed-ridden and staying home, I needed to treat myself with retail therapy. I needed to get out there and be myself again. Of all I been through and endured, I deserved it.
I didn’t immediately do it, however. It took me a few months to earn back the $2,000 I lost in savings when the benefits ended. While that happened, I enjoyed hot August days walking from my house to the veteran’s park and back, witnessed my ex- Yenny get married, attended Hospital Productions’ 20th Anniversary showcase (a day I will never forget), had a night out in my neighborhood Dave & Busters with my co-workers, and started getting in touch with a Brooklyn witch. I made two label orders with Italians Do It Better and RRRecords which help things get started. As you see, it only got better.
February came and we got a surprise $1,000 from our company. Tax refunds and a third paycheck of the month sealed the deal and all systems go. My first stop was at Patchogue’s Record Stop, their new location since moving from their Shirley warehouse, and thumbed through whatever old-school hip-hop, 12” singles, and other small easy victories I could find. It wasn’t until places like West Sayville’s Vinyl Paradise was when spending three hours minimum searching in stores and $200.00 a visit on music was normal. I can also count West Babylon’s Looney Tunes, Mineola’s Mr. Cheapo’s, and Amityville’s High Fidelity who could’ve matched the totals I had from that store. It’s all about finding the most for less. Whether it’s Seventies’ jazz / fusion on vinyl, discount 12” singles, used CDs, dollar hardcore / punk 45’s, or other long-awaited finds, amassing history and style points is the most self-serving and exciting hunt I take part of. Other stores such as Northport’s Record Reserve, Massapequa’s Infinity Records, Riverhead’s Sunday Records, and Rosie’s Vintage (the smallest of them all) allowed for tidier spaces and friendlier prices for me to walk out with, with smaller receipts ranging from a mere $30.00 to $100.00.
Of course, with many victories come disappointments. Plainview just opened a new store called Vinyl Bay 777. It’s one of the cleanest and shiniest stores on the island, but also the most expensive. With a penchant for ambition and grading, their selections are anywhere from three to five times the price of what you’d find in others store. It was the only experience of the tour that I left feeling poor and let down. The other disappointment? Innersleeve Records all the way at the East End / Amangansett. Why? I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to go.
And almost every store have their own legacy. Record Stop’s been around since 1974 starting in Ronkonkoma, then shuffling to a warehouse in Shirley before finally settling in Patchogue. The family-owned and highly-awarded Looney Tunes had survived a summer fire and took them 90 days to rebuild. This year they’ll celebrate their 50th anniversary. Mr Cheapo’s has two locations, the only store on the island to do so. High Fidelity moved to larger and cleaner digs which solved their storage issues. Record Reserve just moved again; their fourth time in ten years of operation. Infinity Records was the only store on the ropes during the pandemic relying on crowd-funding to make up for the rent. Rosie’s Vintage isn’t owned by Rosie. In fact, Rosie doesn’t exist. It’s a rockabilly wife named Thea who owns an antique store. And you can’t get any literal than Sunday Records, which is only open on Sundays. It’s the only store I know who classified their records not on genre but radio stations and chart positions.
The entire experience was great and I looked to do it again the year after. Unfortunately, I had lots of traffic tickets, fees, and violations to pay. With a vehicle in disrepair and an expired inspection, driving out in daylight without the police spotting me was not ideal. Then I looked to do it last year, and we all know what happened. The pandemic paralyzed and killed businesses left and right. With immediate closures and stop of life, everyone stayed home for their lives.
Next time, it’s going down.
Essential money was saved all throughout the pandemic. Two stimulus checks later, a third on the way, tax refunds, a third bi-weekly check in April, and a bank transfer means I’m ready to do it all over again. In fact, it’s already started! Rough Trade announced it’s relocating from its’ Williamsburg spot. With 25% off books, merchandise, and CDs, it was an incentive to get to it. With me waiting forever to go, now was the chance. I found the perfect March Wednesday to do it and I finally made it happen. What you’ll read later on became the most expensive purchase I ever made at a record store, and also the greatest.
Most locations (except Vinyl Bay 777, replaced by any given one New York City store) are on the list for the next record-store tour. I healed mostly from last summer’s depression and I had a trouble-free winter. With a day out at Williamsburg’s Rough Trade, the spring euphoria and hope came back like it did the first time around. With money in the bank, vaccines, and everything coming back into play, it’s time to have fun again like I want to.
For those who can’t be harassed by looking up our series and reading our visits one-by-one, here’s the final results of 2018’s tour:
Record Stop:
Sugarhill Gang “The Lover In You” 12”
Grover Washington Jr. Mister Magic
Carmen McRae In Person
U.T.F.O. “Roxanne, Roxanne” 12”
Ahmad “Back In The Day” 12”
DJ Yella “4 Tha E” 12”
L.A. Style “James Brown Is Dead” 12”
Knucklehedz “Hed Rush” 12”
Flatlinerz “Live Evil” 12”
Blondie “Rapture” 7”
Chemical Brothers Come With Us
Royal Trux Thank You
Delerium ft. Sarah McLachlan & DJ Tiesto “Silence”
Prime Minister Pete Nice & Daddy Rich “Rap Prime Minister & Daddy Rich (Rat Bastard)” 12”
Vinyl Paradise:
Laura Nyro Christmas And The Beads Of Sweat
Genesis Invisible Touch
Clash, The Black Market Clash 10″
Delegation The Promise Of Love
Herbie Hancock “Rockit”
B-52’s, The Wild Planet
Blondie Parallel Lines
Spyro Gyra Catching The Sun
Brecker Bros. self-titled
Herb Alpert Rise
Heart Dreamboat Annie
Tom Scott Blow It Out
Pat Metheny American Garage
Martha Velez Escape From Babylon
Stanley Turrentine Have You Ever Seen The Rain?
Bob James & Earl Klugh One On One
Sister Sledge All-American Girls
Black Moon “Who Got The Props?” b/w “Fuck It Up”
Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock “It Takes Two”
Shannon Let The Music Play
Jellybean “Wotupski?”
Fu-Schnickens “Sum Dum Monkey” b/w “Visions (20/20)”
Tortoise & Autechre “Adverse Camber” b/w “To Day Retrieval”
Shirts, The Inner Sleeve
Freedom U.S.A. Hardcore
Coke Bust Confined
Ressurection I Am Not: The Discography
Spit It Out self-titled
Vice Flawed
Terror The Walls Will Fall
This Is Hell Bastards Still Remain 
Subterfuge Fight Back 
Bikini Kill self-titled single red 7″
Hangman A Vile Decree 
Dead Kennedys “Nazi Punks Fuck Off!” (with lyric bag and armbands)
Until Your Heart Stops We Are Not Coming Down
Corrective Measure self-titled
Soft Cell “Tainted Love”
Kraftwerk “Pocket Calculator” b/w “Dentaku” clear yellow 7”
Six Weeks label America In Decline CD
Tear It Up The December 2000 Sessions CD
Dee Cracks “Be My Valentine” red heart-shaped flexi
This Means War “Use It Up” flexi
Broadcaster b/w Aspiga (Secret Audio Club Wax Pack)
Marathon b/w Fire When Ready(Secret Audio Club Wax Pack)
Looney Tunes:
Up In Arms / Eternal Youth split 7”
Defiant Trespass / Cold Like December split 7”
Make Or Break Down For Life! 7”
Arcadius / 7654 Stories split 7”
Pissed Jeans demo 7”
Search Bloc Life, By The Code 7”
Proud Youth Nothing’s Changed 7”
UN Bodies Unremarkably Mortal 7”
Force Of Change The Bond We Share 7”
Self Defense Family “Indoor Wind Chimes” b/w “Cottaging”
Tolerate self-titled 7”
Joe South & The Believers “Walk A Mile In My Shoes” b/w “Trespass”
Bread And Water / Reason Of Insanity split 7”
Stigmata There Is No Mercy Here 7”
Degenerats, The 7”
Monster X 1993 demo 7”
Last Dead Word 7”
Let It Burn From Jersey With Love 7”
Slak Another Disaster 7”
Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These” 7”
Toni Basil “Mickey” 7”
Squeeze “853-5937″ 7”
Nena “99 Luftballons” 12”
Staple Singers City In The Sky
Unsung Heroes “What Would You Do?” 12”
White Mystery self-titled
D.S. 13 Vad Vet Vi Om Kriget?
Killing Joke Brighter Than A Thousand Suns
Marc Hurtado & Vomir 2011 / Sang+
Razed In Black Shrieks, Laments, And Anguished Cries
No Future Plan Of Attack
Die Krupps & Front Line Assembly Remix Wars
Maldoror She
Self Defense Family Heaven Is Earth cassette
Unholy Archangel The Wrath Of Kosmostistis cassette
Tod Hate Campiagn, Hymn To The Death cassette
Krieg Blue Miasma cassette
Hekseri The Atrocity (Early Demos) cassette
Crebain Under Black Wigs Of Night cassette
Riddle Of Meander End Of All Life And Creation cassette
Black Flame Torment And Glory cassette
Xasthur self-titled cassette
Krieg Songs For Resistance cassette
Striborg A Procession Of Lost Souls cassette
Tod Black Metal Manifesto cassette
Cheapo's (Commack):
Blackbyrds, The Action
Deodato 2
Jon Lucien The Best Of…
Bob James 2
Hubert LawsRomeo & Juliet
Deodato Love Island
Rolling Stones Undercover (stickered)
Bob James 3
Deodato Whirlwinds
George Benson White Rabbit
Bob James 4
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth Mecca & The Soul Brother
Jedi Mind Tricks Legacy Of Blood
Naughty By Nature self-titled
M.I.A. Arular
P.O.S. Never Better special edition disc
Unseen, The Explode
Richard Hell & The Voidoids Blank Generation
M.I.A. Kala
All Dogs 7”
Last Shop Standing DVD
Katt Williams The Pimp Chronicles Vol. 1 DVD
Jerky Boys, The Stop Staring At Me cassette
Paula AbdulForever Your Girl cassette
Record Reserve:
Cars, The Shake It Up
Rolling Stones, The Some Girls (cut-out)
Peter Gabriel Melt
Weather Report Heavy Weather
A Clockwork Orange motion picture soundtrack
Genesis Abacab
Laura Nyro self-titled
Stranglers, The IV
Samantha Fox I Wanna Have Some Fun
Spyro Gyra self-titled
Cars, The Candy-O
Peter Gabriel Scratch
Debbie Gibson Out Of The Blue
Spent Idols “Chinese Suicide” b/w “Gacy’s Gone” 7″
Out Cider D.C. label Raise The Flag: DC Hardcore Vol. 1 7″
High Fidelity:
Prurient & Kevin Drumm  All Are Guests In The House Of The Lord
KMD  Mr. Hood
Sonic Youth   Evol
Algiers  self-titled
ESG  A South Bronx Story deluxe disc
No Age   Nouns
Greymachine Disconnected
Killing Joke   Hosannas From The Basements Of Hell
Television   Marquee Moon expanded disc
Esther Phillips  Capricorn Princess
Severed Heads  Cuisine With Piscatorial
Elastica  self-titled
Sonic Youth & Mats Gustavsson & Merzbow  SYR8
Killing Joke  Pandemonium
Eric Gale  Multiplication
Front Line Assembly  Echoes
Wavves  King Of The Beach
Strawberry Switchblade  Since Yesterday 12”
Bjork   Telegraph
Public Image Ltd.  Second Edition
Esther Phillips  Performance
Hatebreed  The Rise Of Brutality
Killing Joke  Night Time
Wilbert Longmire  Champagne
Grover Washington, Jr.  A Secret Place
Young Black Teenagers  “Tap The Bottle” 12”
Sagat  “Funk Dat” 12”
Crash Crew   “Breaking Bells (Take Me To The Mardi Gras)” 12”
Prurient   Pleasure Ground
Victory Records  Victory Style II
Esther Phillips & Joe Beck  For All We Know
Sonic Youth  Confusion Is Sex + Kill Your Idols
Swell Maps  A Trip To Marineville
Severed Heads   Rotund For Success
Whodini  Escape
Killing Joke   Revelations
Stop The Violence Movement, The  “Self-Destruction” 12”
Eric Gale  Part Of You
Professionals, The   “The Magnificent” 7”
Guyana Punch Line  self-titled 7”
Heart   self-titled cassette
Infinity Records:
Self Defense Family “Self Immolation Family” b/w “World Virgins” 7”
Peter Gabriel Security
Mantronix The Album
Eric Gale Forecast
Arsonists As The World Burns
Beat Street motion picture soundtrack
Kool & The GangLight Of Worlds
Dire Straits Making Movies
Shirts, The Street Light Shine
Belinda Carlisle Belinda
Makers, The Rock Star God
Bug, The Infected
Peter Gabriel Car
Filter Short Bus
Warzone Fight for Justice
Mood Doom
Jane’s Addiction Nothing’s Shocking
Depeche Mode Ultra
Curve Cuckoo
Rosie's Vintage:
Genesis Abacab
Nice & Wild “Diamond Girl” 12″
Shabba Ranks “Mr. Loverman” 12″
Dire Straits self-titled
Mad Skillz “Nod Factor” 12“
Boogiemonsters “Recognized Thresholds Of Negative Stress 12″
Blahzay Blahzay “Danger!” 12″
Harold Faltermeyer “Axel F” 12“
Spyro Gyra self-titled
Malcomb McLaren & The World Famous Supreme Team “Buffalo Gals” 12″
Sunday Records:
Cabaret Voltaire  The Arm Of The Lord
Nitzer Ebb As Is
Strawberry Switchblade  Who Knows What Love Is?
Steve Jones  Mercy
Patti Smith  Easter
Ramsey Lewis  Tequila Mockingbird
Doors, The  Greatest Hits
Cabaret Voltaire  Drinking Gasoline
Utah Saints “Something Good”
Image In Vogue self-titled EP
Steely Dan  Pretzel Logic
No Age  Losing Feeling
Dead Or Alive “Brand New Lover”
Cabaret Voltaire  The Drain Train
Public Image Ltd. “Home”
Gary Numan “Cars” / “Metal”
Malcomb McLaren “Soweto” b/w “Zulu’s On A Time Bomb”
J. Geils Band “Centerfold” b/w “Rage In The Cage”
Fad Gadget “One Man’s Meat” b/w “Sleep”
Tony Basil “Mickey” b/w “Hangin’ Around”
Stray Cats “(She’s) Sexy + 17” b/w “Lookin’ Better Every Beer”
Madness “Our House” b/w “Cardiac Arrest”
Todd Rundgren “Hello It’s Me” b/w “Cold Morning Light”
No Age  Eraser 7”
Suzanne Vega “Luca” b/w “Night Vision”
Siouxsie Sioux & The Banshees “Hong Kong Garden” b/w “Night Vision”
Mr. Cheapo’s (Mineola):
Mic Geronimo “Masta I.C.”
Jemini The Gifted One “Funk Soul Sensation”
Hi-Tek “Hi Teknology”
Schoolly D “Livin’ In The Jungle” b/w “Gucci Again”
Richie Cole New York Afternoon
Dott & Night School Carousel split e.p.
Joe Beck self-titled
Chick Corea Return To Forever
Hank Crawford Hank Crawford’s Back
Steve Khan Tightrope
Tappan Zee label Best Of…
Shabba Ranks “Ram Dancehall” b/w “Original Woman”
D&D All-Stars “1, 2 Pass It”
Rayvon “No Guns, No Murder”
Doug E. Fresh & Beenie Man “Hands In The Air”
Black Moon “Black Smif-N-Wesson” b/w Smif-N-Wesson “Headz Ain’t Redee”
Goats, The “Burn The Flag” b/w “Typical American”
Little Shawn “Don Perignon”
Specials, The More Specials
Lee Ritenour The Best Of…
Steve Khan Arrows
Genesis Invisible Touch
Vacancies, The Tantrum
Nobodys, The Generation XXX
Easy Action Friends Of Rock & Roll
New Bomb Turks Scared Straight
Roots, The Do You Want More?!!!??!
Eric B & Rakim Don’t Sweat The Technique
Boogie Down Productions Edutainment
X Clan Xodus
Lords Of The Underground Here Come The Lords
Buckshot LeFonque self-titled
Channel Live Station Identification
Funkdoobiest Brothas Doobie
Method Man & Mary J. Blige “I’ll Be There For You” / “You’re All I Need”
GZA / Genius Liquid Swords
Milk Never Dated
Naughty By Nature19 Naughty III
Das EFX Straight Up Sewaside
Grand Puba 2000
Naughty By Nature Poverty’s Paradise
Ol’ Dirty Bastard Return To The 36 Chambers (dirty version)
George Michael Faith
Vinyl Bay 777:
(No purchases.)
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whiteteadreams · 1 year
Text
Y(our) Song
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Paring: Lee Seokmin x Gn!Reader
Word Count: like 1.7k idk...
Genre: Slice of Life, college AU, fluff
Warnings: i don't think any...like at all except fluff and seokmin is in love love! also not proofread lol
a/n- hihi! so this idea came to me and i had to write it immediately! but dw i'm still working on some requests and the mafia jeongin fic!! also big big thank you to @ofneos for helping me out with some polishing of the fic and talking with me while i added the finishing touches!!
~~~~
He liked you, a lot, and he didn’t even know you, or at least not really. He knew your voice and the personality you put on for whoever listened to you. You didn’t know who ‘whoever’ was, but Seokmin was easily the person on campus who listened to you the most.
Every night that you hosted the campus radio station, Seokmin was always there to tune in and listen to the songs you played and the commentary you made before and after each one played. Your late podcast like music sessions made him feel a little less lonely when he was alone in his dorm at night, which was every night. Your voice filled his chest with a warmth and placed a smile on his face while he typed away at his computer, completing assignments that he held off so he could do them while you spoke.
Seokmin was listening to your calm, soothing voice like always when you said something that caused his fingers that were rapidly typing to come to a stop instantly.
The song had just come to an end when you said, “Alright, this one’s for all the other students who are night owls like me and tune in all the time. Whoever is the first down to the studio and finds the vinyl that holds my favorite song, which I played for you last week, somewhere in the many shelves that hold various records, will win two free tickets to any upcoming concert of your choice.” The instrumental intro of the next song started playing as you finished speaking. “Head over now for that chance to win before you’re out of time, in the meantime, here is Out of Time by The Weeknd”. As your voice was replaced by Abel’s, Seokmin saved the google doc that he was working on and sprinted out of his dorm.
He passed the studio every time he went to his psychology class, so he knew exactly where he was running to. It was about half a mile away from his dorm but the excuse to see and talk to you overcame the sleepiness that fogged his brain.
However, there was several things going through his brain at this time. The main ones were what he was going to say to you, where the radio station was, and what your favorite song was, which was Right Down the Line by Gerry Rafferty, but what wasn’t on his mind at this time, was his speeding footwork.
Before Seokmin knew it, he had tripped on an elevated sidewalk crack and was falling to the ground. His knees and palms luckily took the majority of the impact of his fall. He knew the little stones embedded into his hands would hurt later, but the overwhelming urge to meet you overpowered the pain. Getting up and wiping his palms off on his grey sweats, he started running again.
The streets were empty, absolutely silent except for his heavy breathing. He picked up his pace at the thought of someone else using his fall as an advantage to get ahead of him. Besides the quiet streets, if the streetlights weren’t there, it would also be completely dark. The shops and cafés mixed in within the dorms, classrooms and lecture halls were of course closed as it was 2:52 in the morning, but he saw the one light ahead in the distance, the one he was looking for, the radio station’s light.
He smiled as he didn’t see a group of people crowded outside the corner building, and his smile grew as he saw not a single soul inside the building once he stepped inside. But the feeling of someone beating him there nagged at his spirit. Seokmin was forced to step away from his radio in order to run there, so if someone did happen to beat him there, he wouldn’t have heard your announcement. He was there within five minutes, so he was praying there wasn’t someone right down to street who got there first.
Seokmin didn’t give up though and headed to the vinyl section, you didn’t say CD, you said vinyl and after listening to Right Down the Line several times after you stated it was your favorite, he knew the artist, genre, tone, how it was arranged, everything. Gerry Rafferty is listed as rock, pop rock, folk rock, soft rock, blues rock, and of course, classic rock. Seokmin wasn’t sure which genre you’d have it listed under, but as some of the other radio hosts weren’t as deep into genres as you were, he headed to the classic rock area and went to the 70s section to find City to City, the album it was on.
The albums were in very specific year order, so he grabbed the 1978 handful and looked through them. Chills ran through him as he saw the album art, surely if someone had found it first, you wouldn’t have had time to put it back just yet.
Putting the rest of the albums back in the exact order he found them in, with the exception of the album he clutched to his chest, he walked back to the main area and stood by the booth surrounded by glass that you sat in. He saw you talking into your mic with the words “ON AIR” flashing above the door.
You must’ve sensed his presence despite his silence as you looked over your shoulder with a bright smile and waved at him before holding up one finger to signify you needed a moment. He shot you a shy smile and nodded. You looked back at him and pointed at the album. He held it up, showing you the front before turning it around and pointing at the name of your favorite song. Your smile grew and you gave him two thumbs up. Seokmin’s heart sped up at the thought of making you happy.
His heart was already beating fast from the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins, but you were also much prettier than he had already thought you were. Your photo on the station’s website was the same photo that was on your school ID but the photos that were held in link to your Instagram also didn’t do you justice.
While Seokmin waited for you, he looked down at his hands, careful not to get any blood on what you called a masterpiece. His feet hurt a bit from running in his slides, causing him to constantly switch which foot he was putting most of his weight on. He knew he looked awkward but lucky for him, your back was to him.
“Alright everyone, the contest is over as we have our winner. I’m going to step away for a bit, but don’t worry everyone, I have plenty of late-night jams queued up for all of you. Enjoy!” Seokmin heard your voice throughout the speakers in the station and braced himself for the conversation he was about to have with you.
The booth’s door opened and out stepped you. Your eyes held evident drowsiness, but he could understand as to why, but your voice and spirit was still bright.
“Hi! Well, you won my little competition, I’m impressed that you remembered the song! I’m Y/n by the way.” You stuck out your hand only to be met with Seokmin holding up his scraped hand. “I would shake your hand, but I tripped. I’m Seokmin though.” Heat covered his face as he giggled at himself.
“Aw, I’m sorry! But at least you won, right? About that, what concert are you wanting to go to?” The red on his face spread everywhere visible as he let the words slip out before he could give it a second though. “I actually only came here since it gave me an excuse to meet you.” He looked down at the vinyl in his hand and traced the colorful outline of Gerry Rafferty with his fingernail.
“Oh! Me?” Your words don’t hold any type of mockery, you don’t make him feel embarrassed whatsoever. “No one has ever wanted to meet me, I’m really flattered.” You laughed but it was humble and genuine, full of surprise, but your voice drug on. “But you met me, and it’s been 30 minutes since the contest started and no one else showed up…so do you want those tickets? Any concert you want!”
Seokmin could hear the awkwardness in your voice, unsure about what to do at this point. The confusion was also evident as no one has stuck around this long during a radio involved thing just to talk to you.
“Um, yeah, yeah sure. Do you have any suggestions? Gerry Rafferty maybe?” He looked at you with doe eyes, the concert tickets were the last thing on his mind while you, you were the first.
Looking at him with softness in your eyes, you shook your head lightly and giggled. “Gerry Rafferty died in 2011, but if he was still alive, I would have definitely suggested him. I like Greta Van Fleet a lot and I’ve played them on the station, how about them?”
You looked on your phone for tour dates of theirs while waiting for Seokmin to answer. He laughed and looked around, seeing that he was truly the only person that tried to show up.
“I guess what I’m trying to say, is I don’t care about who I see, I was just wondering if you’d like to go with me to any concert.” Seokmin was cute, that was obvious, and his demeanor showed nothing but kindness and a gentle aura.
“I mean, yeah sure! You can still pick the concert and I’ll get us those tickets!” Seokmin’s smile grew even more, and he bounced a bit on his toes. “Greta Van Fleet is fine with me.” He couldn’t remember the song of theirs that you played but all he cared about was the fact that you liked them.
He couldn't remember how their songs went, or the names of whoever is in Greta Van Fleet, but it all doesn't matter to him. The only thing on his mind is this chance to make you his.
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joocomics · 9 months
Note
HIHIHIHIH 🤞 HOW R U FIRST OF ALL 🫂 SECOND I COME FORTH WITH LOTS OF XDH THOUGHTS I was well on my way to passing tf out before I started thinking and now I need to tell u before I forget them all 🥲
First!!! Gunil and taking pics of u when he’s literally balls deep in ur cunt 🤭🤭 he’ll be pressing your thighs against your belly, ankles and feet dangling next to your head and your eyes shut and mouth fall wide when he suddenly decides now is a good time to take a pic. “Smile, doll, you’re on camera.” And you can’t really smile so you kind of just?? Like stare with fucked our puppy eyes and swollen, wet lips. Drool coming down the side of your face, hair matted and messily strewn…. And he loves every second of it. Snapping some photos before taunting you with them like, “oh, pretty, I fucking love when you make that face. I’ll keep it forever in that picture…. That alright?” And he doesn’t care if u say no because he’s saving them for later, all different angles, all the messy lips and bites along your skin, even some he made you take yourself!! Oh, I’m thinking thoughts…….
Okay and second!!! Fwb Seungmin (oh my god) who literally ruins all other men for you. He somehow learns so quickly what makes you tick. You two weren’t the closest friends to begin with, but he was kind and somehow remembered everything you told him— from that random little thing from a month ago to your favorite things. So when you two get drunk together and end up messily fucking against the floor this commenced a very passionate fwb relationship!! It was only the third time he had you pressed against the bed that he was whispering all the right things and driving you insane— everything you liked was being done, everything he said you’d talked about enjoying in passing, even the way he gripped onto your hips or held your wrists was just right. And you’ve tried to be with other men who weren’t him but it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like no one else’s dick will satisfy you anymore…. What a shame 🤞😭
Okay and lastly is more of a messy half thought about Junhan and playing old rock vinyls— the two of you relaxing in bed as the midday sun peaked through the window. Your record playing on the ground as the same vinyl you’ve played 30 times replayed once again. It was like a movie scene— gorgeous and everything, despite being a mess on the wooden floors, was pretty. Junhan has you sat on the edge of the bed as the soft drums of the song flow through the air like currents. And he’s got a pretty hand on your neck, partially on your jaw and tilting your head up. His long, thick hair is falling past his cheekbones, tickling his chin and lips as he softly peers down at you, cute eyes squinting as he smiles, flustering you so easy. And he’s so gentle as he bends down to kiss you; the kiss starts incredibly soft, dangerous as it made your heart skip a beat and mind go blank. But then as the vinyl reaches it’s end, emitting silence as the needle pokes helplessly against the record, he’s pushing you back into the mattress with a knee between your thighs that not so subtly brushes against your core. ☹️ GAH!!!!!!
Kinda entering my Junhan era…… tell me why this man is ALWAYS on my mind…… tf…..😰
IT WENT FROM WORSE TO WORSER FRRRR YOU’LL BE THE DEATH OF ME / hj
also, hihi!! i’m good tysm for asking 🫂 wby??? hope you’re having a great start of the week 🩷 don’t know how you live with this brain of yours girl
SO FREAKING HOT I ROLLED MY EYES BACK INTO MY HEAD … the only right thing to do after this is the next day for YOU to take pics of him is it not ????? sit on his cock, slowly ride the soul out of him with a hand around his throat and take a pic of his pretty face with his pretty lips moaning from your grip
it’s not a want it’s a need! idk but the last few days the thoughts of fwb seungmin have been creeping up in my mind now my fingers are itching to write about it 😭 i have a feeling he & gunil would be the best of keeping such relationship
thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis oh my god this is not a half thought sweetie THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HURT LIKE THAT i made myself cry even more by imagining this with his current hair 🕳️🚶‍♀️
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Friday, 21 July 2023:
Wild Creatures Neko Case (Anti) (released 30 June 2023)
The first Neko Case album I bought was Furnace Room Lullabies when she was billed as Neko Case and Her Boyfriends. It came courtesy of Co-Op when that shop returned to my hometown quite unexpectedly in 2000. They didn't last long, six months tops, but in that six months, I got to know the owner (of course) and he began getting an extra copy of MOJO for me so I didn't have to rush around getting there (he kept it under the counter for me) and I discovered Case as well as Lambchop (Nixon) along with Teenage Fanclub. He played me I Need Direction, the opening track to Howdy and from that point on I worked backwards on all three artists' catalogs! The shop didn't last, but in just that short time span, I found a lot of music.
I didn't realize the only Neko Case album I lack is Hell-On. I hated the cover, I was pretty much exhausted by Case's persona as well as her music. I was never too keen on Middle Cyclone and I simply hated The Worse Things Get. I bought Case Veirs Lang predominantly for Laura Veirs' involvement and I figured I was done with anything Neko Case did from that point. (I was a New Pornographers fan, but only of their first two albums, everything after that point, I disliked immensely.) So why on Earth I wanted a Neko Case compilation is beyond me, especially since I own 90% of what is on it. I bought this at Exile in Champaign and told Jeff I didn't understand my attraction to this since I had everything save her last album. He laughed and said he bought her box set (Truckdriver, Gladiator, Mule) and he wanted this compilation! (I might have sold myself on it when I played the unreleased track, Oh, Shadowless, on youtube to see if I should even bother.) I've been playing the heck out of Blacklisted this past week which my be my favorite Case album (or maybe Furnace Room Lullabies is or perhaps Fox Confessor Brings The Flood). All I know is I didn't need this, but here it sits and I'll be playing it. If I end up with Hell-On I'll never forgive myself.
Above are the album cover, the gatefold and the back of the album. The photo from the gatefold comes from the video Oh, Shadowless (just as the photos on the labels do). Laura Plansker was the creator of the video. Below you can see the hype sticker in closer detail.
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This is a double album and both albums are different colored vinyl. You will find photos of both sides of the inner sleeve for Record 1 below.
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Here are the labels for Sides 1 and 2.
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The first album comes on sky blue vinyl. You'll find two photos of the vinyl. (Mind you, it seems every album is different and random in regards to what colors a person ends up with.)
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Next you will find photos of both sides of the inner sleeve for Record 2, followed by both sides of the record labels.
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This second record is pressed on purple vinyl. I close out this entry with two shots of said vinyl.
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7 February 2023: Baby Plays Around 12″ EP, Elvis Costello. (Warner Bros., 1989)
On February 4, I stumbled across an incredible collection that had just appeared in my neighborhood shop. I talk about it in a non-consecutive posts beginning with this one. This collection featured a handful of artists I like, but the majority of the collection was made up of Elvis Costello rarities and oddities. I went back on February 5 to buy even more of it, and then on the 6th the owner of the shop messaged me: “Are you interested in a bootleg of Elvis Costello’s 1984 acoustic tour? If so, I’ll save it in my office for you. If you want it, let the clerk know it’s waiting for you next time you come. I’m pricing it $30 but I’ll give it to you for $25.” Well, of course I wanted it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so the following day I made my third visit in four days and when I arrived the two clerks knew instantly when they saw me that I was there for the Costello record.
One clerk stayed behind and pulled out the Bob Dylan and John Cale special orders (see my two previous posts) that I’d already forgotten about, while the other went to the basement office for the acoustic Costello bootleg. The owner hadn’t mentioned anything other than that one record, so I was alarmed to see a whole stack of Costello albums in her arms. Good lord, I’d already bought thirteen 45 RPM singles, four bootleg LPs, and a sealed vintage LP from this sole collection, breaking my bank, and now I knew I wasn’t going to want to part without getting this new stack as well. I didn’t even know what was in it. Sarah, the clerk who went to the basement, put the stack on the counter and, bewildered, I started going through them. First on the stack was this 1989 12″ single. I’d already foregone a handful of Costello 12″ singles from this collection, because I couldn’t remember what I owned and didn’t own. I knew, though, that I did not have this particular 12″ (of a song from Costello’s 1989 album Spike), because I knew I owned the 45 RPM and 3″ CD versions of this same single and remembered there were other editions I didn’t own.
Thinking of to the 45 and 3″ CD editions, I seemed to recall that each format of the “Baby Plays Around” release had different extra tracks. Examining them all on Discogs tonight, including 10″ vinyl and cassette editions I didn’t know existed, I see I was partially correct about these track listings. What is different on each edition, though, are the colors of the lettering on the front covers. As for track listings, the 45 and 10″ versions have “Poisoned Rose” from 1986′s King of America as track two; the 12″, 3″ CD, and cassette versions have the non-LP Goffin-King cover “Point of No Return” in its place. If my 45 and 3″ CD were not in storage, I’d show you pictures of those, but you’ll just to imagine them.
Above we see the front cover in two photos: first, in the wrinkly, somewhat loose shrinkwrap that imports were often shrouded for U.S. stores, then with the shrinkwrap removed. This copy was sealed when I bought it. I sliced the shrinkwrap strategically so in the future I could keep it on and access the record. Below is the back cover.
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Last, here is side one’s label.
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This is the most mundane, common item of the six Costello pieces I purchased on this day, the rest of which will follow in subsequent posts.
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holdingontoheadache · 2 years
Note
Hi, Doly! I hope you’re having a wonderful weekend!
It’s definitely my longest save! I’ve not played it in awhile though! But I do love my house in it from what I can remember. As you said, cheers to shit memory, I truly forget things so often and easily. It can be a bit frustrating. I love a lot of games! I tend to really like story based games but usually I’ve not played them but watched creators play them because I don’t/didn’t have the consoles to play them! Like I really enjoyed watching people play Firewatch, it’s such a beautiful game and I liked the story. I also like games like Until Dawn and The Quarry! I think decision based games like that are very fun especially when you have to make quick decisions and it effects your story. I have a switch lite so I tend to play just stardew, Minecraft and animal crossing because I feel like a lot of the games I’ve listed aren’t great to play on switch annnd I’ve got pretty bad drift. Other games I’ve watched people play that I enjoyed were: It Takes Two, A Way Out, Twelve Minutes also a classic The Last Of Us and so many more I just can’t remember them rn! What games do you tend to enjoy?
You definitely have to show me when we get the chance, I’d love to see! I don’t think I have a collection of like one singular character or anything like that. I think I just collect weird knickknacks and vinyl honestly! But I do want to collect more things, I almost started collecting carebear memorabilia earlier this year!
I’m very excited for Niall’s new album and I’m also very excited for his friend Lewis Capaldi’s new album next year!
I hope it’s feeling like the holidays where you are, unfortunately for me the weather makes it hard to feel like it’s even winter! It was 81F today!!! That’s outrageous for December! But I did recently help decorate the house for Christmas which was very nice, it’s the first time my family has put up a tree in like six years! I have my own mini one but it’s nice having a big one. Have you decorated for the Christmas holiday if you celebrate?
Okay, speed round!!!
What does your dream home look like? I think mine would be like a house from the 70s I just loved the aesthetics. I would kill to have some kind of conversation pit in my home and I’d have a whole area for my record player set up and I lose my mind when I see houses that have atriums!! How cool is that?! I think it would be filled with posters, knickknacks, rugs, blankets and just weird stuff! Also mid century is very good too if done right, I hate when people flip older homes, they get rid of the character and style and turn it into a boring all white like chic farmhouse and it’s just awful to me.
Do you think different types/brands of water taste different? I definitely think they do!!
What’s your favorite snack? I tend to like any kind of hot chips and I’m not the biggest sweets kinda person I think? I like very specific sweet stuff! I’m more of a spicy/salty snack person than a sweets one.
What’s a weird side of YouTube you think you’re on sometimes? For me, my dad and I fell down this weird hole of this guy exploring abandoned homes in Canada? It’s truly amazing to me because some are what he calls time capsules where people have just left everything behind and others are very expensive homes left behind and a lot of the time I think what happened? Why did they up and leave? But most of the time I’m just in awe of some of the houses and the stuff left behind like family photos in some! Also I just enjoy seeing weird/extravagant homes completely empty.
Are you the kind of person that needs something on to fall asleep, or nothing at all on ooorrr can you do both? I think I always need something on. My go to sleep aid sound is harsh rain on a window, I swear I could sleep through a hurricane the way I sleep though the rain. I tend to fall asleep with something on the tv.
I’ll cut it there for today, I hope you’re doing well and having a relaxing weekend! Sending lots of love and happy times your way! Talk to ya tomorrow! ❤️
-🎉❄️
Hello, lovely!! Hope your weekend is treating you very well!! ✨sending all the positive vibes back to you, hun!! 💕
We are literally the same person when it comes to video games and idk how to take that lol. Love that for us!! I tend to watch other “let’s players” play the really well know games on pc/console cause I just don’t have the skill/patience to learn such skill to play them!! Plus, I find it more enjoyably to just sit back and watch them go through the struggles of the game rather myself raging through it 😅. I remember back when Markiplier played firewatch and I was just in utter awe of the aesthetic/story of the game!! I have to rewatch him play it sometime! Some of the games I’ve watched that I absolutely loved have to be God of War, Resident Evil franchise, The Last Guardian, Papers Please, Cuphead, Little Nightmares, Undertale, The Last of Us, the list truly goes on!! Decision-based/fast-paced games are my bread and butter!! I feel strongly on the “early pc strategy/time-management games (dinner dash or equivalent) to farming games” pipeline to be very strong lol. If it has any of those premises, I’m all in 100%!! I’m also a huge fan of the Pokémon franchise and their games, so I’d say I fall into that as well. I’m open to all games within that particular category.
I used to be obsessed with Care Bears!! That’s so valid!!
81°F?!?? Oh my! The highest in my area today had to have been maybe ~50°F. Because I live in the northeast, I find that to be relatively warm in comparison to what I’m used to for the colder months. Hopefully you’re finding ways to stay cool in the heat! And yes, I did decorate for Christmas!! Not as much as years prior cause my parents and I are headed down to Puerto Rico for the holidays!! I do celebrate Christmas, but not necessarily in a religious way. We do participate in the gift-giving aspect and getting together and all that, but that’s relatively it.
Speed Round Answer!! Dream home? For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived within the city! And while I have a love/hate relationship with that, I would love to be able to live in a rural area and, just, have my own space. I don’t have any particular look that I’m looking for in a house, just as long as I have a room that I can convert into an art studio!! I would also love to have a proper vinyl setup where I can play/display my records comfortably!! And maybe a decent sized yard for the pets to run around and enjoy themselves!! Does water taste different? Oh, absolutely 100%!! I am a Dasani hater lol. Dasani tastes like sink water!! Smart water, in my opinion, is the best!! But in all reality, water tastes like water. I tend to buy the generic store-brand bottles of water and I don’t have any complaints about it lol. I would just rather drink sink water than Dasani!! Fav. snack? I tend to lean more to sweets when it comes to snacks, but also depends on the mood I’m in!! I really enjoy those Chex Mix bags that are cookies and cream flavored that you can get at gas stations or wawa/sheetz (idk what the equivalent would be in your area if you don’t have either of these franchises lol). I don’t get them often, but I would say that!! In terms of salty snacks, I’m a basic person and either pick up a bag of Cheetos Puffs or Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream chips 😬. Weird side of YouTube? Hmmmm.. lately, I’ve fallen on the side of YouTube where people explain the complexities/obscurities of very niche topics. Like, the other day, I found this YouTuber who talked about the lore of Martha Speaks/Word Girl. Another one was the rise/downfall of club penguin and rating very obscure movies/books they’ve read. It’s great, honestly! I recommend it lol. Sleep Habits? I feel like I can fall asleep relatively quickly, but I can’t sleep without the fan being on or else I feel like my body is static. Sleeping in utter silence is my villain origin story!! It also has to be almost completely dark! I used to be able to sleep with the tv on, but even that has to be off. Someone can be calling my name and I won’t budge, but once the sunlight or anything like that brightens the room, I’m up!! 🎄✨
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earlgreydream · 3 years
Text
quiet.
| bucky x reader | fluff |
being saved by the winter soldier
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“It’s just in here. I have a dog, her name is Lucy. She’s a little big, but she is very gentle. You don’t need to be afraid of her,” Bucky explained as you followed him up the stairs to his apartment.
You gave a slight nod and his lips turned up. He walked to a red door and put the key in, turning it as the lock clicked.
You’d been saved from a Hydra testing facility that the avengers infiltrated a few weeks ago. Bucky had found you, barely alive, deep in a lab. You’d been chained to an exam table, bruised and hollow.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m going to get you out of here.” Bucky had promised.
You had been taken to Banner’s lab to recover, Bucky staying with you the entire time. It was like a private hospital, and Banner and his staff took incredible care of you. They’d promised Bucky you were in safe hands, but he didn’t want to leave you.
Even when he got up to grab something, he’d see the fear spark through your eyes as you weakly reached out to him.
You didn’t answer any of the million questions you were suffocated with, opting to silently look away from the doctors and agents. The only thing Bucky had been able to coax out of you was your name, one late night when you couldn’t fall asleep.
“Do you like books? I can read to you.”
Bucky did his best to keep you entertained, and he’d already manage to read you several books from the harry potter series. Peter Parker had insisted everyone in your generation liked them, and he’d considered them a safe bet.
Bucky read you the stories of magic and boarding school and friendship, staying by your bedside and entertaining you. After you finished each book, he convinced Banner to let you use the lab screens to watch the films.
Once you were finally recovered enough to be stable, Bucky had convinced them to let you come stay with him at his apartment in Brooklyn. Stark Tower was cold, huge, and noisy. He thought it would be much better for your recovery to be in a calmer and more cozy environment.
Bucky unlocked the door to his apartment, letting you inside first. You tensed a bit as the large golden retriever waddled up to you.
“It’s alright. Lucy, this is Y/N. She’s our new friends that’s going to be staying here. You gotta protect her too, she’s a little nervous,” Bucky spoke to his dog as if she were a human, amusing you a bit.
Lucy sniffed your hands, and you giggled softly when she licked your fingers.
Bucky had never heard you laugh, and it made his heart soften. The quiet sound was so sweet, and he wanted to be the source of your laughter, and hear it for the rest of his life. 
He gave you a short tour of his home, a small apartment in Brooklyn. It was  cozy and intimate, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold metallics of Banner’s lab where you had spent the last two weeks. 
You followed him to the second bedroom, the walls painted a pale lavender. Bucky set down your bag of clothes and personal items that Nat had provided you with Stark’s credit card. 
“I didn’t know what color you liked, but Wanda said that this color was a safe bet,” he said apologetically, and you nodded, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.
You were slightly nervous when Bucky left you to unpack and settle, but you smiled as Lucy hopped on top of the white duvet cover. You peeked your head out of the door, looking into the living room when you heard music. Bucky laid a vinyl record on the player in the corner, old music floating through the small apartment. 
“I was going to make dinner. Are you up for eating?” 
You nodded, and he lightly touched your hip as he walked by, to the open kitchen. You slipped the clothes into the closet and the drawers, setting the phone and laptop on the little desk in the room before going to join Bucky in the main part of his home. You wrapped in the cashmere blanket that was on the end of the bed, comforted by being swaddled in the soft fabric.
“I got that for you, I thought you’d like it,” Bucky smiled at you, nodding at the blanket. You sat up at the island, across from where he was slicing vegetables. You smiled back at him, and he leaned forward and held out a piece of red pepper to you. 
Your smaller fingers took it from his metal hand, biting into the sweet vegetable he gave you. 
“I thought we could watch the Deathly Hallows tonight, it’s the last one we have left.”
You agreed and ate as much of the salad he made as you could. Before Bucky could get up, you grabbed his bowl and slipped away from the island, doing the dishes for the two of you. Bucky laughed as you spun around with the music, and you reached out your hands, inviting him to dance with you. 
His arm went around your waist, and your fingers slipped in his. His chin rested on top of your head, and you felt his heartbeat thrum against your cheek as you slowly swayed to the music. He quietly sang along to the song from a 40′s artist, a peace settling over the two of you. 
The music stopped as the needle slipped to the middle of the record, and Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist. You hugged him, feeling safe and secure in his arms.
You reached into a bowl and grabbed a piece of chocolate before following him to the couch, where he was turning on your movie. You curled up on the end of the couch, draping your blanket over you. You watched the movie, Bucky’s hand resting on your ankle, his fingertips occasionally moving over your skin. 
His careful touch was welcomed, soothing your remaining nerves from being in the new environment. You jumped when the snake in the movie lunged forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips. 
“Oh, no, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky gently squeezed your ankle. You sat up and moved to lean against his side. He draped his arm over your body, keeping you safe from the magical snake in the movie. 
You dreaded going to bed, and Bucky could sense your nerves. Since you’d been rescued from Hydra, Bucky had slept a few feet from you, holding your hand. 
“Goodnight, Y/N. I’m just in the next room if you need.”
You twisted your hair between your fingers, patting Lucy’s head before crawling into bed. 
After hours of lying awake, your body finally succumbed to exhaustion. Dreams twisted into nightmares, making your heart seize and trapping the oxygen in your lungs. A cold sweat broke out all over your body, and you shot up, gasping for breath as memories of Hydra’s experiments and torture flashed through your mind.
You rubbed your eyes and held your blanket to your chest, trying to fight off the nightmares. The shadows in the corners seemed to move and grab at you like claws, the terror bubbling higher in your throat. You knew you were safe in Bucky’s apartment, but your heart couldn’t quite catch up with your mind. 
Finally, you gave up trying to calm yourself down and you threw yourself out of the bed, running quietly into Bucky’s room. 
“Bucky... Bucky, wake up, please!” you desperately gasped out, hot tears rolling down your face. 
“Y/N, I’m here, it’s okay.” He sat up and moved over on the mattress, making room.
Your voice immediately snapped him out of his sleepy daze, so unused to hearing you speak. 
“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, and he shook his head, snuggling your body against his under the blankets.You buried your face in his chest, letting him wrap you tightly in his arms. His dog tags were cold against your skin, tears soaking through his thin t-shirt.
“No, it’s okay. Go back to sleep, doll. I promise I’m going to keep you safe.”
Metal fingers combed through your hair as his other hand rubbed your shaking back. Bucky kissed the top of your head, soothing you back to sleep. He understood your fear, only recently freed from Hydra’s nightmares himself. Having you sleeping beside him comforted him as much as you, and he didn’t mind you crawling under his covers at two am. 
Your eyes slowly adjusted to the soft light pouring through white curtains. Bucky was lying next to you, and Lucy was curled up at your feet on the end of the mattress. You were halfway on top of him, your head on his chest and one leg draped between his. His metal arm was around your waist, resting just under the hem of your shirt, tracing small shapes on your skin.
Your head felt heavy from crying the night before, and your arms were weak as you tried to push yourself to sit up. 
“You okay?”
“Fine enough,” you whispered, Lucy’s ears perking up. 
Steel eyes searched your face, and his fingers slid to the small of your back as you sat up over him.
“I love hearing your voice,” Bucky smiled up at you, and you bit your lower lip as you smiled back.
You started giggling as Lucy licked your face, and before Bucky could gently push her off of you, you wrapped your arms around the dog and kissed the side of her furry head. Bucky sat up and pet Lucy before gently cupping your jaw. You looked at him, blushing as he briefly kissed you. 
He pulled back and gauged your reaction, anxiety sweeping over him when your eyes widened.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just-”
You leaned forward and kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as you shifted onto his lap. Passion poured through the two of you, and he held you tightly as your lips moved together.
“Don’t be sorry, kiss me again,” you whispered against his lips. He grinned before fulfilling your request, giving you exactly what you wanted. 
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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years
Note
Howdy! I got an ask/react for the Fo4 companions! How would a romanced companion react to Sole (preferably female) doing things to make them feel 'stronger' or 'protective' over her? Some random examples: Sole "can't" open something and has to ask for help/Sole conveniently forgets her overcoat when she knows it's going to be cold out, etc. the little things :) (Extra thing: you don't have to but if you could go into a bit more depth for Deacon and Hancock's response that'd be great :D )
Okay, this was so. much. fun. I took a few... creative liberties with the prompt, but I hope it’s still in the realm of what you were looking for! And, of course, thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it!
Cait: 
     Sole pressed a cold cloth to Cait's cheekbone, and she hissed at the pressure of the contact on her swollen cheek. 
"Shit, sorry, Cait." 
"Eh, I've had worse licks than this."
"I know, but still… this one is definitely my fault." 
"It's hardly yer fault, luv, I'm the one who got meself inte this."
"How? I'm the one who started the fight." Sole protested, pulling her hand back so she could look her companion in the eye. 
"Maybe, but I'm the one who gave you yer drinkin’ problem, and that's what got us inte the fight in the first place." Sole chuckled at that, shaking her head. The two had had this discussion what seemed like a hundred times, both trying to take the blame for the constant slew of bar fights that they found themselves getting into. 
Tonight, it had been four intoxicated men who had decided it was a neat idea to discuss the details of what they’d do to Cait if they could get her drunk enough. While the redhead hadn’t seemed to hear, Sole had briskly made her way over to the group to give her two cents on these ideas of theirs. So, Cait had a point, maybe if Sole hadn’t had quite so much whiskey, she could’ve tried to solve the problem more... verbally. But alas, her confrontation had officially started with her fist landing at the temple of the man nearest to her, effectively knocking him out. And it had ended with Cait hauling Sole to her feet after disposing of the man’s companions. 
Cait picked absent-mindedly at the scabs forming on her knuckles as Sole brought the wet rag up to her face once more, dabbing at the blood next to Cait's lip. 
"God, how is it that you always end up with the injuries? All I got was a bruise to the cheek, and yet, here you are, looking like a human punching bag."
"I can tell ya that. It's cus it's always me rushin' in te save your arse. Why do you always take on more than ye can handle?" Sole snickered, not knowing if Cait found her own words as amusing as she had. 
"Because, I know no matter how many assholes I take on, you'll always be there to save me." Cait made a disgusted sound, rolling her eyes at that, much like Sole thought she would, before letting her emerald gaze meet Sole's eyes. 
"I wish you weren't, but yer damn right." Cait said, and Sole felt a little jump in her chest at the sentiment. Cait wasn’t the most tender person in the wasteland, but somehow, she always seemed to know what to say; to Sole, anyway.
The pair sat silently for a bit as Sole finished cleaning up her defender. Wiping down her bloodied hands, and the remainder of the crusted crimson on her face.
"Are ya done fussin yet? I'm tellin’ you, I'm fine. Can we just go te sleep already?"
"One more spot left." She told her, bringing the rag up to her bruised face once more. Sole's eyes fell to Cait's swollen lips as she drew the cool fabric over them, before leaning in to press her mouth softly to Cait's. Sole pulled away, but stayed close enough for Cait to feel her warm, whiskey-tinged breath fan over her as she whispered, 
"Thank you for saving me tonight. I really was way in over my head." Sole looked down, embarrassed at her admission, as Cait smiled at her. 
"It was my pleasure, luv. As you said, I'll always be there te save yer arse." 
Curie: 
     "You know, you don't have to come to me for something as small as zhis." Curie said as she examined the minor cut on Sole’s arm. “You could patch zhis up yourself easily!” 
“Well…” Sole felt heat rise to her cheeks as she searched for an explanation. She knew that every time she came to Curie for something like this, she was taking up the doctor’s precious time, but she couldn’t help herself. What was she supposed to do when Curie insisted on working all day when they were at a settlement? They usually came to settlements to relax, to help make repairs and look into any problems the settlers might be having, but Curie always insisted on doing check-ups for everyone in their vicinity. Sole loved her selflessness and dedication to her work, but… When were they supposed to spend time together? This is what I get for having a workaholic for a girlfriend.
“You know, infection is a big problem out here. I just thought it would be best to seek the help of a professional.” 
“Oh, of course, of course. How responsible of you.” Sole bit at her lip as Curie laughed at her. Well, she really has caught onto the whole ‘sarcasm’ thing.
 “Fortunately, you do not need to worry about infection in zhis, it iz not deep. But come here, with me.” Curie urged Sole off of the cot she was seated on and brought her to a table at the back of the clinic. 
“Wait here, se vous plait.” With that, Curie disappeared around the corner, and Sole stood around, twiddling her thumbs, as she tried to think of an excuse to get Curie off of work early. 
“I was going to clean my supplies with zhis, but we can do your arm first.” Curie said as she came around the corner, a bucket of soapy water in-hand. 
“Here.” Curie set the bucket onto the table and had Sole hold out her arm as she produced a clean rag from the pocket of her lab coat, and dunked it into the warm water. Sole watched as Curie wrung out the cloth, and brought it to the miniscule wound on her arm. 
It was comical, really, the care that Curie took in cleaning the cut that couldn’t have been more than an inch long, and was almost too thin to see. Another rush of heat made its way to Sole’s cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the doctor, but Curie made no complaints as she used the other side of the rag to dry off her arm. 
“Zhere! It should be all better. I can wrap it for you too, if you’d like.” 
“Thanks Curie, you’re a lifesaver. But I don’t think you really need to wrap it.” The synth laughed at her as she threw the rag into a basket and picked up the bucket again. 
“Oh, mon dieu, I don’t know about zhat.” She shook her head, a pink tint coming to her pale cheeks at Sole’s flattery as she turned to go into the back of the clinic again. 
“Wait!” Sole said, reaching out her “good” arm to stop Curie before she could vanish around the corner once more. Curie looked at her, a questioning expression on her face. Sole stood, her hand still wrapped around Curie’s forearm, utterly at a loss of what to say. I just don’t want you to go. It’ll be another four hours until you get off. 
I think you should take a break?
Maybe you should have a half day?
Do you need some help here at the clinic? God, when did I become so damn clingy?
“Hmm.” Curie’s eyes pierced into Sole’s as a knowing look washed over her face. “I zhink I know what it is you want.” Sole just stared ahead, wondering silently if that were true. The doctor set down the bucket yet again, delicately taking a hold of Sole’s “injured” arm once more. Slowly, she brought it upwards, then lowered her head to place her lips gently over the cut. “Iz zhat better?” 
Sole giggled, still embarrassed, but definitely glad she had come to interrupt Curie’s work. I guess I can wait a little longer. Maybe make us a nice dinner for tonight...
“Much. Thanks again, Curie.” 
“Of course! Anytime, mon amour.”
Danse: 
     Sole sat at the kitchen table, draining the last of her coffee as her gaze fell to Danse, where he was seated on the steps outside the front door of her Sanctuary home. He stared ahead blankly, brows knitted together above his lusterless eyes as his hands worked to remove a spot of rust from a piece of power armor he had taken off his suit temporarily. Lately, the ex-paladin had been adept in putting on a show for Sole, making her think that he was okay, even after everything that had changed in his life over the course of a few hours. It had been over a week since he had found out about his true identity, and in that time,  Sole could tell that he had tried to remain strong. For whom, she wasn’t sure. She thought she had made it clear to him that she didn’t care about his “strength” in these times, she just wanted him to get through them, whatever the means. Yet, he only seemed to don this look of despair and hopelessness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and if she tried to bring it up, he would always attempt to change the subject, or he would tell her not to worry and simply say that he was still working on “adjusting.” 
She hated when he didn’t talk to her. The seemingly insensitive man was always happy to listen to Sole’s problems and offer what advice he could, often suggesting that she discuss her own issues as a form of therapy. But God forbid she tries to get him to do the same. Sole sighed as she mulled over what to do, and noticed Danse’s head twitch to the side, listening, before his gaze dropped down to focus on his task.
He’s been working on that same spot for almost an hour. If it’s not out yet, I don’t think it ever will be. Sole looked around the room, trying to find something that could possibly serve as a proper distraction for Danse, and her eyes fell to the wooden stereo below the window in the living room. She had left it there because she simply didn’t have the heart to scrap the old thing. Too many good memories surrounded it. Memories of her and Nate, dancing the night away as the records spun on and on playing soft love songs until the sun rose; of her rocking Shaun in her arms as she mosied around the living room, listening to the nursery rhyme vinyls that she had received as gifts at her baby shower... But those memories, they were from another life.
Sole shook her head. This is about him, she thought, not me. I can deal with my shit later. Right now, I need to focus on Danse.
She huffed another sigh, this time a bit louder, and watched as Danse ceased his hand movements and tilted his ear towards her again.
“Is everything alright?” He turned to look at where she sat, and Sole tried to look melancholic.
“It’s just… You know… nevermind, it’s not important.” Just as she assumed he would, Danse stood up and walked inside the house, setting the piece of armor and the rag on the table, and pulled out a chair so he could sit beside her. He looked down at her hands, which rested on top of the table near her empty coffee mug. She could practically see the sweat beading on his forehead as he hesitantly brought one of his large hands to rest over the top of her own. Ever since he found out what he was, he’s been afraid to touch me. So... this is a good sign, at least.
“If something’s wrong, I want to know.” He said as he looked up to meet her gaze, his worried expression matching the concern she was feeling towards him. Sole took a breath to appear as though she was steadying herself.
“It’s just… being in this house. It’s great, I mean, it’s still my home and everything, and I don’t want to go anywhere else, but…” she trailed off, her troubled expression only half-feigned at this point, given the truth behind her words. His eyes never wavered, silently encouraging her to continue.
“Some things are harder to look at than others. And that damn stereo over there just has to be staring straight at me every time I sit down at the table, it’s the hardest one for me to see. It's just, it was a house-warming present from my parents. They gave it to me and Nate after the wedding, and now… well, there are no more records to play on it. They were all ruined, and even if they weren't, I don’t think the thing would work anyway. But every time I see it, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost. My parents… Nate… even Shaun.” Sole didn’t have to fake the tears that came unbidden to her eyes as she recalled the memories of her loved ones, and she knew Danse hadn’t missed a thing when he started rubbing her hand softly with his. They sat there in silence for a moment, as Danse tried to reassure her with his gentle touch.
Then, still remaining silent, Danse stood, reaching his hand forward to brush his thumb over Sole’s cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. He then turned towards the living room, but instead of going straight to the stereo, as Sole thought he might, Danse opened the side door that led to the covered driveway. She watched as he doubled back, now approaching the stereo. Sole wasn’t sure what she had expected him to do when she mentioned her problem to him; maybe offer to help her take the thing apart, or try and see if it still worked, or simply give her another perspective on how she should view the piece of 200-year-old furniture. Whatever she expected, it certainly hadn’t been this. 
Danse squatted down in front of the large wooden beast of a stereo, wrapped his broad arms almost all the way around it, and stood, lifting the whole damn thing up until he was standing completely upright with the stereo held firmly to his chest. Sole’s mouth hung open as she remained seated at the table, seemingly paralyzed by the shock of what she was witnessing, as Danse sauntered awkwardly towards the exit. A thick vein protruded from his neck as he twisted the piece of furniture to fit through the door, and made his way out into the driveway.
Sole heard a groan from outside, accompanied by the sound of something hard hitting concrete. She stood up, prepared to head outside and see what exactly he’d done with her “problem,” but before she reached the doorway, she heard him call from outside,
“You can’t still see it, can you?”
“Um… no. But Danse, is it-- I mean, are you okay? It took like, four people to bring that thing in when we first moved it to the house.” The brawny ex-soldier appeared in the doorway, his chest still heaving from the effort of wrestling the wooden monster outside. He nodded to her,
“I'm fine." He huffed, "You don’t need to go out there. I’ll take it apart later, if you’d like. Or we can store it somewhere for the time being.” She shook her head at him, a little smile touching her lips. Even after everything he’s been through, he's still always looking out for me. Even with something as small and insignificant as this.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.” Danse looked down at his feet, seemingly searching for something to say in response.
“But thank you.” Sole finished, and his eyes came back up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a spark return to Danse’s amber eyes as the smallest hint of a smile softened his expression, and Sole felt hope. Hope for him overcoming his grief in this time of crisis, and hope for herself in being able to move on from the memories that had kept her chained to her past for so long. Together, she felt like the two of them could overcome anything.
Deacon:
     “Yes. Two please.” Sole said as Takahashi voiced the only question he ever seemed to ask. The robot placed two bowls of scrumptious smelling power noodles in front of her, and she reached for the bag of caps hanging from her belt. As she looked down to count her money, she heard a clatter of bottlecaps hitting the counter beside her.
“Got it covered. Come on, let’s dig in.” Deacon grabbed a bowl in each hand and headed over to a couple of empty seats at the bar.
“I thought you were still trying to stay undercover?" Sole gestured to the Diamond City guard outfit that the spy donned. "Doesn’t it kinda ruin the illusion if you’re seen in public with me?” She said as she followed him over, sealing up her cap purse once again.
“What? You’ve never seen one of these guys at the noodle stand? Cuz I sure have. Just don’t talk to me, and I’ll be good.” Sole shook her head as she took a seat beside him, instantly deciding to ignore his request.
“Hey officer, I’ve got a question.” Sole swirled her chopsticks around the steaming bowl in front of her, before taking a bite.
“Yes, citizen?”
“Hold on--” she said through a mouthful of noodles.
Deacon laughed as he looked at her full mouth,
“Why--” He tried to talk through his bout of chuckling, “Why would you say you’re going to ask me a question and then take a big bite of food? What did you think would happen?”
Deacon thought he heard her tell him to ‘shut up,’ but it was hard to tell, given the noodles that filled her mouth, and the fact that she was nearly choking in her own fit of laughter.
Eventually, she managed to swallow her food successfully, and was finally able to get some words out.
"No, okay, serious question--" Deacon interrupted her with a snap of his fingers,
"Serious answer." Her genuine curiosity forced Sole to ignore him, and continue with her question.
"Tell me, why do you always pay for everything?" She asked.
"Ma'am, I am a law-abiding security officer. I always pay for the products that I intend to consume."
"I said serious, Deacon."
"Hey, shush!" He brought a hand up to Sole's mouth at the mention of his name, "What part of undercover did you not get?" She cocked a brow at his faked panic expression, noting the grin that he was trying to hide, as he lowered his head and turned back to his noodles.
"Like, okay," she continued, expanding on her inquiry, "whenever we go anywhere, you always pay for everything, and it's really odd. I've never met anyone in the wasteland who's done that, everyone's too busy trying to keep themselves alive to worry about paying for others. So, what? Are you, like, rich or something? I mean, c'mon, what's the deal? I have caps on me all the time, you know that, right?"
"Oh?" Sole saw his eyebrows rise above the tops of his sunglasses as he turned to look at her, "you don't think I'm doing this out of the goodness of my cold, black, heart, do you? No, I'm running a tab over here, honey. You owe me, big time." Sole narrowed her eyes at him, her uncertainty keeping her lips sealed.
"You mean, you didn’t know? Look, I don't know what to tell you," Deacon continued, "I thought you knew! Man, I'm glad you found out this way. Now it won't be such a rude awakening when the invoice comes."
Deacon turned back to his noodles, shaking his head at the thought. Sole's gaze bore into him, trying to figure out his level of seriousness. I really wish I was better at this. This is why I believed he was a synth for a month and a half.
"And if I don't have the money… you're not gonna call out a hit on me or anything, are you?"
“Hmm," he brought a hand to his chin, stroking his finger over it animatedly, "surely there must be some way you could pay me back…” He turned to look at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he did so, and she rolled her eyes, looking back to her noodles as she scoffed.
"Hey! What's with the face! I was talking about community service. Y'know, helping the children, and the elderly, all that good stuff. Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. And to think, I was going to have you volunteering at the children's hospital next week."
Sole instantly regretted taking another bite, as she tried desperately to fend off a fit of giggling in an effort to keep from choking again.
"I can't keep up with you Deacon," she said as she swallowed her food. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."
"Eh, don't worry, I can pay for the funeral." Sole raised a hand and shoved him in the shoulder playfully as he grinned at her.
"Okay, really, though. You do know I can pay occasionally, right?"
"Yeah, I know, I'm your partner, remember? I'm pretty much right next to you whenever you get paid.”
"So… then, why do you do it?"
"Do what?" Sole's nostrils flared at his obnoxious question.
"No? Joke didn’t land? Okay. Serious time," he flung his hands in the air as if surrendering, "I read about something… wasn't it, like, customary before the war to pay for stuff for your… friends?" Sole scrunched her eyebrows in thought,
"Friends? Not really. Significant other? Yeah, a little more common." She looked to where Deacon stared down at his noodles.
Is that, is he... blushing?
"But hey, I don't mind if you don't." She finished, tilting her head forward, in an attempt to catch Deacon's eye. She spotted a flushed little grin spread on his face, before he leaned his head back, restoring his cool composure.
"Oopsies, sorry about that, then. But I did warn you, I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing. So… you know, that's on you."
Hancock: 
     The ghoul lounged comfortably on the couch in the Old State House, idly playing with his combat knife as he waited for Sole to finish readying herself for their outing.
“Ahhh!” 
Hancock leapt from his place on the couch at the sound of Sole’s shriek, his combat knife instinctively falling into a position poised for violence.
He ran across the hall, crashing through the door and into the bedroom. Teeth bared and eyes wide, his head lashed from side to side in search of Sole’s assailant. He spotted her, cowering in the corner as she raised a shaky hand to point at the opposite side of the room.
Hancock’s glare followed Sole’s fear-stricken gaze, and he started towards the desk in the corner she had pointed to, but ultimately failed to see what it was causing her distress.
He turned back to her, an eyebrow cocked, as he raised the silent question of what had been the cause of her terror.
“On the desk!” She said, pointing towards it again, this time with greater intensity. Hancock slowly approached the corner of the room, knife still at the ready, as his eyes continued to search for any sign of… well, anything, really. An exasperated smile spread across his lips as his eyes fell to your attacker. A small, brown, spider picked its way through the objects littering the top of the desk, and Hancock had to hold back a laugh. 
“This is what had you all riled up? Oh, sweetheart, he’s just a little spider. C’mon now, he won’t hurt ya.”
“You don't know that.” She said firmly, her round eyes still trained on the desk. It had sounded like a joke, but her expression remained serious.
“Alright, you want me to get rid of him for you?” She nodded her head vigorously, and he chuckled as he turned his attention to the unsuspecting arachnid. He watched as it delicately stepped over a series of writing utensils, and Hancock frowned. Bringing his knife up to the top of the desk, he rested the flat of his blade directly in the spider’s path,
“That’s it, up you go, little guy.” He said quietly, as it stepped onto his steel vessel. Hancock twisted the knife around in his grip as the spider crawled around it, and made his way to the balcony. Once outside, he tipped his knife to the railing, encouraging the spider to crawl off the tip of the blade. Once the spider was safely making its way along the top of the railing, Hancock turned back towards the doorway.
“There,” he said, stepping back inside, “Now he can’t hurt ya, he’s all the way out there.”
“You… you didn’t kill it?” She asked, tentatively standing up.
“Nah, we only hurt the ones who hurt somebody else first, remember?”
“You don’t know that he didn’t hurt anybody.” She mumbled as Hancock sauntered over to her.
“Aw, give him a chance, maybe he can change, y’know? He doesn't really seem like the troublemaking type to me, anyhow.” He brought his hands to your waist, a smug expression playing on his face.
“Oh yeah, just like the way you always tell people you’ve changed?” She said, sliding her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “Way I see it, you’re still just as bad an influence on me as when I met you.” She said, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.
“Hmm, maybe you’re right, sunshine. Maybe I can't change any more. Maybe it's just my nature to be a bad influence on you.” He said quietly, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he leaned into her. 
“Huh, maybe so. But bad influence or not," she pulled away from him slightly, to look up into his smoky eyes, "you really did save me back there. And, I know it seems silly... but I am grateful." His eyes softened at her little confession and, though he knew this too was silly, he couldn’t help but feel a swell in his chest at the thought of "saving" her. 
“And I’ll always be here to save you... from any spiders we happen to come across.” He pecked her lips tenderly, their close proximity practically forcing his mouth to hers. He should’ve known better, once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of her. 
“Even though,” He continued, as he pressed a kiss to her nose, “I’ve seen you,” then to her right cheek, “take down,” now her left, “deathclaws,” another to her jaw, “single handedly,” and now down to her neck, “I’ll be sure to handle all the unruly arachnids.” He whispered into the crook of her neck, before moving upwards again and pressing one more kiss to her forehead. He watched, grinning like an idiot in love, as a crimson flush crept up her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment she felt regarding her phobia, or from the heat of his lips on her skin, but he decided it didn’t matter. Either way, he found it irresistibly adorable, and with that, he set his sights on her lips once more. 
MacCready: 
     MacCready sat on the floor, legs crossed, as he counted his ammunition cartridges. There were four of the .308, six of the .50, ten of the 10mm, and a few of the .38. There certainly wasn’t as much as he’d hoped there’d be, but he wasn't worried. Sole always seemed to have ammo to spare, and she wasn't stingy with it like he was. It was yet another perk to being with her.
He gathered his full magazines together near the ammo bag resting beside him, so he could begin placing them inside in preparation for their next outing.
"How are you doing over there, babe?" He asked as he stored the outlying bullets in little bags.
"I think... you know what, nevermind. I'm good." MacCready ceased his action, turning to look at where Sole knelt on the carpet of her Diamond City home. A pile of bullets and empty magazines surrounded her, the stack of seemingly full cartridges was pitifully small compared to his own.
"You, ah, need some help?"
"... No.” 
"Mmhm, okay.” he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but she wouldn’t look up at him.
“Well,” he continued, “I'm going to put my full mags in the ammo bag, why don't I grab yours too." The sniper stood up, and made his way over to her, bending down to grab the cartridges that looked full.
"Wait! No, these, um, these ones aren't done yet." MacCready's eyebrows furrowed, but the shadow of a smile began to spread to his lips as he realized what was going on.
"So," he said, kneeling down so he could see her pretty little embarrassed face. "You haven't finished loading any of them?"
“No." She said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. MacCready lowered his head so that he was looking up at her as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. A lock of hair was draped over her forehead, obstructing his view. He reached a hand up and gently pushed it behind her ear, leaning in to give her nose a small peck with his lips.
"You want some help?" He said as Sole raised her gaze to meet his, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She didn't say anything, only nodded yes.
"Alright, you know, you could’ve just asked. I might have said ‘no’ the first time, but you know me, I eventually would’ve come around." MacCready said as he set to work with the magazines that had appeared full, but in reality, only housed half of the amount of ammunition that they could fit within them. He snickered in understanding, it really was the second half of bullets that was hard to load.
"Thank you, sweetie. You’re just so much better at it than I am." She said as she watched his practiced fingers make quick work of what probably would've taken her another hour.
"Of course... but, you are paying me for this, right?"
"Ohh, I think we might be able to work something out." She said, a sly grin playing at her lips.
He just chuckled at her words, but she could've sworn his fingers starting moving a whole lot faster at her suggestive phrasing.
Nick: 
“Tell me, why is this now a regular part of my job duties?" Ellie asked as she finished sewing up yet another tear in Nick's trench coat. "You know you're just going to end up with more holes in this coat every time you leave the office, and I don't seem to recall you ever caring about this old thing's appearance before…" she trailed off.
Nick knew that Ellie was fishing for answers. One specific one in particular, but he liked the ambiguity of the situation. It was this little game he and his secretary would play. He would leave clues here and there that pointed to the nature of his and Sole's relationship and wait to see if Ellie would say anything. All while she continued to try and force the truth from him verbally. He wasn't going to lose this round.
"What? A private detective can't keep up appearances for his clients? I think it's just good for business."
"I think it's a load of bologna. You know we gave Sole her own trench coat after she saved you, right? She could just wear her own, rather than steal yours every time you two go out on a case."
"What kinda fun would that be? I don't mind it, it's not like I get cold anyway. And the poor little lady never knows how long we're going to be gone, so I don't think it's her fault when we're out after dark and she wants to wear it."
Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she poked the needle back through the worn, beige fabric once again.
"She's got you so tightly wound around her finger, it's a wonder she doesn't call you 'Jared'."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know, it’s something I’ve read about, I guess it was a ring shop, or a jewelry company, or something before the war. I thought it sounded clever. Just humor me, won't you?"
The synth just shook his head, uttering a low chuckle as he watched Ellie tighten the thread, forcing the last hole closed.
"There." She said, tying up the last bit of string left over, before cutting off the excess. "It's done." 
"Perfect, thanks a million, doll. I'll see you soon, I've just gotta head out for a--"
"Date?" She finished the sentence for him suggestively, raising her eyebrows in question.
"A case. We're going to head out on a case, Ellie."
"Uh huh, sure. Well, here," she handed him back the coat, "now she doesn't need to worry about the cold air seeping in through all those holes. Let me know if you want me to insulate the damn thing when winter rolls around."
Valentine smiled, an uncharacteristically goofy smile, at Ellie's words. He was so obvious, why didn't he just come clean already? 
"Will do, I’m sure she’ll enjoy that. Thanks again, Ellie. You're the best."
"And don't you forget it." She said, turning back to the mound of paperwork still on her desk beside her sewing supplies.
“Ah well, I’ll get him to admit to it one of these days.” Ellie mumbled as she began sorting through the files in front of her.
Piper:
     Piper looked up at Scarlet from the table in the corner of the Dugout Inn, 
"Yes, so I think we'll both have a nuka cola to start off. Then I'll do the crispy squirrel bits, and she'll have the Salisbury steak." Piper pointed her finger to Sole, who was busy looking down at the table, before making a last-minute decision, "Aaand you'd better bring some of those snack cakes at the end, too." 
"Hm, as usual." Scarlet chuckled at that as her pen scribbled across the notepad in her hand. 
"But that sounds good, you two. I'll have that out in just a minute." The waitress grabbed their menus, Sole reaching up to hand it to her with a smile on her face before turning to peer at her partner from across the table. She waited for Scarlet to disappear around the corner to the kitchen before speaking.
"You really don't find it annoying?" She asked. 
"What?" Piper loosened the scarf around her neck as she looked questioningly at Sole. 
"I know that I ask you to order for me whenever we go out to eat, or drink, and it's gotta be getting a little old at this point, right?" 
"No, not at all, Blue!" Piper said as she took her hat off and placed it on the table, mussing her hair a bit with one hand. "This reporter actually finds it to be pret-ty endearing. It's like, the one thing you can't do. You’re good at, like, everything else, but this I get to help you with. It's a welcome change." Piper's hands dropped to the top of the table as she began absent-mindedly fiddling with her silverware. But her eyes stayed on the woman across the table as Sole smiled at her, still appearing a little embarrassed. 
"I don't know why I can't do it," Sole tried to explain, "I've just never been able to order for myself, even before the war. Just one of those bizarre anxiety things, I guess."
"Well, like I said, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it's cute." 
 Preston:
     Sole approached her Lieutenant, shaking her head at him, and she saw him sigh.
“No, the river just keeps going until it reaches a ravine." She told him, "And it’s too steep to climb down. Any luck on your end?”
“Hmm, not really. It's a little more shallow upstream, but it’s still about ten feet wide.”
“Damn.” She said, “We need to get across.” A settlement had sent a distress call across radio freedom almost an hour ago, if Sole and Preston took any longer, they might be too late.
“I guess we’ll just have to go for it.” She said, her face painting a picture of clear disgust at the thought of wading through the murky water.
“Well, let’s at least head upstream a bit. To the shallow part.”
“Okay.” Sole said begrudgingly, her footsteps unconsciously heavy as she followed her companion to the shallow part. Not shallow enough, I bet.
And she was right. As the pair arrived, Preston turned to Sole to gauge her reaction, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the sight of the brown, swirling water.
Preston heaved a sigh, and started forward. Before he reached the waterline, he turned to see Sole still standing back, feet seemingly glued to the muddy ground. He couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at her, eyebrows creasing upwards as he watched her eyes look longingly at the far shore.
“Come here.” He said.
“I know, I know. Just start going, I’ll follow.” Preston chuckled at the exasperation in her voice. Instead of repeating his command, he simply walked over to her as her eyes remained locked on the other side of the river, when he reached her, he slowly pressed his hand to the small of her back.
“Hey, what are you--?” Before Sole could finish her question, Preston had scooped her up into his arms, bridal style. She let out a squeak of surprise, and he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.
“Is this okay? He asked, the brim of his hat pressing against Sole’s forehead as he looked at her.
“A warning would’ve been nice.” Preston laughed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on her, ensuring she was secure before making his way towards the river.
“Hold onto me.” He said, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.
“Ready?” Sole nodded to him, and Preston took a step forward, frigid water seeping in through his boots as he waded in.
“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” She said, her eyes trained on the river as it raised up to Preston’s knees.
“I might be wrong, General, but I think I already am.” He said, the amusement in his voice faint as he gritted his teeth against the cold.
She felt his body shutter as he continued forward, the water reaching up almost to his waist, as he held Sole up higher to ensure it wouldn’t reach her. She let out a small sigh of relief as they reached the end of the channel. The water became more shallow, and Preston quickened his pace with each step that brought him closer to their destination.
Once completely out of the water, and past the muddy shoreline, Preston finally set Sole down gently. As her feet touched the ground, Sole kept her arms wound about Preston’s neck.
“Thank you, love.” She said, her voice soft as she addressed him as her partner rather than her Lieutenant.
“It was my pleasure, m’lady.” He said, briefly removing his hat from his head as he did so. Sole smiled at him warmly, but detected the faint chattering of his teeth, and when she looked down, she couldn’t help but notice the goosebumps littering his skin. 
“Oh, Preston…” Sole said as she pressed herself to him, rubbing her hands against his back and arms quickly, in an attempt to warm him with her friction. She felt hot air wash over her neck as he released a shaky breath of relief, leaning into her touch. The pair stood there for a moment, Preston syphoning off Sole’s warmth as she tried to repay him for his earlier act of kindness. Her hands slowed from her vigorous rubbing to a more tender sort of touch, before Preston’s head shot up.
“Shit, Sole, the settlement! We’ve got to move!”
X6-88: 
     This had become a common routine of theirs, and X6 wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Every time they were in Sole’s Diamond City home, she would insist on making dinner for the two of them. That, X6 didn’t mind too much; although, after consuming nothing but food supplements in the Institute for so long, it did take some getting used to. But eating the food wasn’t the issue, it was the making of it that had him perplexed. 
As far as he knew, Sole had been the one to install the shelves in her kitchen; and yet, every time she was in need of a spice of some sort, or a condiment, or one of her dishes, she would ask X6 for assistance, given that the shelves were apparently too high for her to reach. Why Sole continued to store her items on the too-tall shelves, he couldn’t begin to guess. But here she went again, asking him to reach for the box of blamco mac n’ cheese on the top shelf, the highest one, one that he could barely even reach. X6 decided it was time to voice his confusion.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?” She asked distractedly as she focused on the strength of the flame burning on her stove.
“Why do you use these shelves?”
“What else would I use, silly?” X6 scrunched up his face at that, trying to hold back a verbal scoff at her wording.
“Would you rather I just store everything on the floor?”
“Well, no. That would… hardly be sanitary.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not. Did she think he was joking with her?
“Why do you ask, X?” She grabbed the box from his hand as he extended it towards her, and began tearing at the top of it with her finger.
“Well, it seems nonsensical to me, for you to continue placing all of your items out of your reach. What happens if I’m not here?” Sole placed a saucepan filled with water over the stove and turned to look at him.
“But you are here.” she said, shrugging, “What? Don’t you like helping me out in the kitchen?”
X6 blinked. What the hell did this have to do with what he liked?
“Well… I don’t dislike it. I’m just having trouble with-- I don’t-- I just... do you want me to fix the shelves so they are the right height for you?”
“No, I like them the way they are.”
X6 felt his eye twitch from beneath his shades. Confusion built up inside him, making the courser feel as though he might explode.
“Ma’am--” His voice faltered as he realized he didn’t know what else to say.
“I know they’re not practical, X. But you can reach them, and I like that about them. Even when I’m here alone, the fact that I can’t make dinner without you makes me smile.” X6 furrowed his eyebrows. That explanation didn’t help at all.
“Don’t you get hungry?”
“I'm not completely helpless, you know, I can usually figure something out.” She attempted to look annoyed at his question, but her grin gave her away. X6 narrowed his eyes at her, still not completely satisfied with the way the conversation had gone. He was still just as confused as he was before.
“Huh.” He said, mulling over all she had said on the subject. “Perhaps... in that case, we should ensure that I am by your side for any missions near Diamond City. That way, I can be sure the future director of the Institute doesn’t go hungry.”
“Well, if you think that’s necessary, who am I to argue?” The left side of X6’s lip tilted upwards in an expression of amusement, and Sole openly smiled at him, laughing a little to herself as she turned her attention back to the boiling water on the stove.
“Can you hand me the pepper mill? Second shelf.”
“I know which shelf. But yes, I can.” He said, turning around to grab it, as Sole continued grinning to herself.
Now I just have to make sure he never looks under my bed. Sole thought. If X6 ever found the step stool she had hidden there, what would happen to her kitchen helper?
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troubatrain · 4 years
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high for this - n. patrick
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a/n: self indulgent marijuana fueled nolan smut?? from me?? never!! i started this the last time it snowed but i finally got a chance to actually finish it so i hope  you guys like it! tagging @tkafuckit​ & @hookingminor​ because truly nothing gets done around here without them lbr
warnings: smut, marijuana
This had to be the worst blizzard to have hit Philadelphia in decades. At least that’s what the weatherman said while his toupee was dangerously close to falling off, an internal bet Nolan had with himself about how long it would be until it flew away in the wind and snow that was shutting down the city. Not only was he snowed in, he was snowed in with Joel and his girlfriend April who’d been pretending like Nolan wasn’t on the other side of the couch for the last hour. Nolan huffs, getting up from his spot on the couch in search of you.
Nolan didn’t like to admit it, but he had a soft spot for you he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was because you were just as much a weird third wheel to Joel’s relationship as he was. Or it could have been the way he started using hanging out with Joel and April as an excuse to do exactly what he’s doing right now. He walked down the hallway, two doors from the bathroom was your bedroom. He could hear the soft sounds of whatever record you were spinning on the other side, and he took a deep breath before he poked his head and smiled. You were nestled in your bed under a mountain of blankets and a movie on your laptop, “We’re stuck here I think.”
You laugh, an angelic sound bouncing off the walls of your room while Nolan hoped you wouldn’t catch his blush from across the room. You opened your blanket pile, tapping on the other side of your bed for Nolan to come join you. It wasn’t like it was out of the ordinary that Nolan would escape Joel and April to hide out with you, but he was doing it way more often than he used to, “Joel and April are making out aren’t they?”
“April’s five minutes from losing her shirt,” Nolan points his finger up, the sound of April’s giggle from the living room, “I don’t need to see that.”
You’d been in this position plenty of times, Nolan curled up in your bed while Parks and Rec played quietly in the background. Nolan would start off on one side of your bed, and before you knew it you were cuddled into his side while neither of you spoke a word. It was a comfortable silence, never asking for anything more or anything less, “You know, we’re snowed in and there’s nothing else to do…”
“Do you want me to roll a joint?” Nolan chuckles, pushing a piece of his hair from his face.
“You’re just so much better than me at it,” You admit, which wasn’t a total lie. Nolan was the best joint roller you’d ever come across, but Nolan was also the hottest joint roller you knew. It was such a weird thing to be attracted to, the way the paper would roll between his fingers and all you seemed to be able to focus on was how big his hands were, “Please?”
Nolan wasn’t going to say no, mostly because if you were both high he didn’t need an excuse to hold you because you always seemed to snuggle right up to him after. Besides, Nolan definitely wasn’t going to say no when you were pouting with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to watch Joel and April fuck,” You tease, pushing Nolan in the chest lightly. You heard him call you cute, but you couldn’t read into it. Nolan was single and in the time since you’d met it was clear he wasn’t fucking around with anyone else. Joel told you it was because Nolan was a little introverted and if he liked he wasn’t going to announce to the world. You didn’t think much of it until you met Kevin who was over the moon to meet the girl Nolan was always talking about. All of your friends seemed to think whatever you had with Nolan was on the fast track to being together, but Nolan never seemed to mention it to you. You open your end table, leaning across Nolan and grabbing your grinder and some bud, dropping it in his hands.
Nolan gets to work, long slim fingers dropping the weed onto the paper gently while you hopped off the bed and pulled out a record. Nolan looks up at you for a minute, a Temple hoodie hanging off your frame covering the shorts you had underneath it. His eyes wandered down your legs, god he wanted you, but he couldn’t even begin to figure out how to tell you. He should let you know that you were pretty much his dream girl, standing across the room flipping a Hozier album in your hands while you picked what you should listen to. It’s about the vibes Nolan, you remarked that to him the first time you ever smoked together, and now Nolan had a playlist just for songs he knew you loved most.
“You’re indecisive,” Nolan hums, watching you put the same record back on it’s shelf and licking the edge of the paper, “Just pick one, anything you pick will be cooler than I would have chosen anyways.”
You turn around sticking your tongue out at him and grabbing a Mt. Joy vinyl to put on, “Did you get that for me?”
“I got it for me,” You defend, holding in the truth that Nolan’s music taste seemed to be weaving itself with your own, “But I knew you liked them, and you never seem to leave me alone.”
“Don’t think you want me too,” Nolan mumbles, grabbing a lighter from your nightstand, sparking up the end of the joint and handing it over to you.
“Wow I get the first hit, what a gentleman,” You joke, sitting cross legged on your bed and watching the smoke fill your room. Nolan loved watching you smoke, the way it would just fall from lips and your voice would get a little raspier. He loved the way your eyes seemed to get hazier and your smile just a bit wider than it usually was, “Excellent work Patty.”
“Glad I could be of service,” Nolan chuckles, your head falling into his lap without a second thought. You both laid like that the entire time you were smoking, sharing the joint while Nolan’s fingers weaving through your hair absentmindedly, “I saw it by the way.”
“Saw what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion at whatever he was on about.
“Your little helper,” Nolan muses, a tight lipped smile on his face because he could literally see your hazy mind trying to figure out what he was talking about. Nolan didn’t know why he needed to say anything about the very teeny vibrator in your bedside table next to your grinder, “Use it often?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You brush him off, it was Nolan and Nolan teased you all the time.
“You know I do,” Nolan hums, his gaze on you while you were practically squirming in his lap, “The same way that you know I like you but you never do anything about it.”
“Shouldn’t you be making the first move?” You poke open one eye to look up at Nolan. His hands moved quickly, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up to straddle his waist.
“Thought we were more progressive than that babe,” Nolan huffs, his voice deeper than it usually was. His hands were running up your legs, rough calloused fingers against your skin.
“I want to hear you say it,” You challenge, boldly running a hand through Nolan’s hair. Nolan’s heart was stammering in his chest, but when a silly smile danced across your lips he couldn’t help but laugh, “Let’s hear it Patty.”
“I want you, here, now, and every time after this,” Nolan says, his voice sure, steady and clear. His lips ghosed over yours for a moment, “C’mere.”
Nolan wasn’t a man of many words, but he was going to show just how he felt. His hands cascaded down your body, stopping on your ass and giving it a tap while his lips pressed against yours. It was electric, and you wondered why you bothered to kiss anyone besides Nolan, “Nols-”
“Yeah?” Nolan pulls away, cheeks rosy and his breath ripped out his body from just one kiss. You bit your lip, looking at him in the eyes before you spoke again.
“Fuck me,” You whimper, grinding your hips against Nolan’s, pulling a groan from his lips. Nolan’s hand gripped your chin, crashing his lips against yours. His other hand snuck under your shirt, the rough calloused fingers that only lived in your fantasies rubbing against your soft skin. He flipped you over, holding himself up by his elbows while he pressed kisses down your neck.
“I’ve thought about this so many fucking times,” Nolan mumbles, his lips pressed against your skin. You could feel his teeth graze behind your ear, pulling a moan out of you.
“Maybe you should’ve done something about it sooner,” You smirk, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him back in for a kiss, “Could’ve saved me a few lonely nights.”
“Consider those over,” Nolan promises, giving you a sweet kiss before his hands grabbed the bottom of your hoodie to pull it off. Nolan’s lips move down your body, love bites and kisses pressed against your skin while he makes his way down to where you need him most. His fingers slipped under your sweats, looking up at you for the go ahead he needed, you nod eating up the feeling of Nolan’s hands on your bare skin, “So pretty baby.”
Nolan’s finger traced lightly over your thighs, his breath hot against your pussy while you ached for more, “Don’t tease me or I’ll get my little friend out to do the job for me.”
Nolan chuckles at your whine, a finger sliding up your folds, “That’s for another time babe.”
Nolan’s words had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, oh it’s definitely big. His tongue swirled your clit gently, trying to figure out exactly what was going to get you off. You let out a moan, one that definitely carried through the hallway loud enough for Joel and April to hear from the living room. Nolan smirks to himself, wrapping his lips around your clit and sliding one of his ridiculously long fingers inside you. Your hand gripped his hair, tugging on it gently while you bit your lip to stop yourself from being too loud, “Fuck Nolan, faster.”
Nolan nods, a second finger sliding inside of you and curling against your g spot. You grinded down on Nolan’s face, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you in place. You were a moaning mess above him, not caring one bit about anyone hearing you because Nolan’s mouth was magic. It really is always the quiet ones. You were close, Nolan’s fingers sliding out of just when he started to feel your pussy clench around him. You whine, grabbing the back of Nolan’s head to keep his mouth against your pussy but it was no use when Nolan was that big, “Sorry did you want to cum?”
Nolan’s finger was teasing your entrance, watching the way your pussy was clenching in anticipation, you let out a breathy laugh, “Please make cum Nols, I need it.”
All it took after that was Nolan’s tongue around your clit and his fingers curled back inside you for you to cum. Nolan’s name fell from your lips, a sound that Nolan had dreamed of but never thought he’d actually get to hear. Nolan’s eyes looked over at your night stand, grabbing the extra joint he rolled and placing it between his lips. He tossed off his shirt, grabbing a lighter and sparking the end before he blew smoke in your mouth and pressed his lips against yours. You moan at sensation, gripping Nolan’s shoulder to pull him closer. You had him now, and you’d be damned if you were going to let him go. 
Nolan kicks off his sweats, taking a few puffs from the joint and groaning when you palmed him through his boxers. He grabs your hand, dropping the joint into yours and pulling off his boxers to let his cock spring free. Your suspicions were correct- it was big, you let out a giggle, Nolan’s eyebrows furrowing at you, “What?”
“I had this bet with myself about how big your dick was,” You admit, taking your own pull from the joint and watching the smoke fill the room, “Not disappointed.”
Nolan laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips and lining his cock up to you. He looks at you, “You’re my fucking dream girl.”
Nolan didn’t spare you a second to react to his words before he slid inside you. He groaned at the feeling, his head pressed against your neck. Nolan’s hips snapped against you, your nails scratching down his back while he railed you into oblivion. You were seeing stars, moans and whimpers falling from your lips and not a single thought in your mind except the fact that Nolan was making you feel so damn good, “Cum for me again, c’mon.”
Nolan’s deep voice was rumbling against your neck, his dick twitched inside of you in need of a release. You clenched around him, your legs shaking from pleasure. Nolan pulled out of you, spilling onto your stomach with a loud fuck. Nolan collapsed on top of you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He rolls over, pulling you close his chest, “I meant what I said, I wasn’t just trying to get laid.”
“I know,” You hum, snuggling closer to his chest, “Think April and Joel heard us?”
The last thing you heard before you finally let the exhaustion take over your body was a we did in unison from April and Joel down the hall. 
605 notes · View notes
parkersroses · 4 years
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taken. | harry styles.
summary: harry finally found the love and happiness he was looking for. but someone from his past comes back and he’s reminded of the pain he went through.
pairing: harry styles x fem!reader
word count: 4304 words
warning(s): slight mentions of sex, bullying, angst and fluff
author’s note: (disclaimer: gif is not mine!)
this honestly the longest fic i’ve written, i’m honestly shook and i wrote it in about two days! taken was one of my favs from the up all night album so this was born lol. hope you guys like this as much as i do! as always, if you do like this, leave a like, comment and reblog! your feedback is very much appreciated <3
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When Harry falls in love, he falls madly and deeply.
So when he met Y/N at a record store, where she skimmed through the vinyls to pick up some Queen albums to play at home for her own pleasure, it was safe to say he quickly fell down that hole. 
It was pure bliss in every moment he got to spend with her. On their first date, he took her out to the park and set up a picnic. He could still remember the smile on her face when they got there, wearing a pretty sundress and looking ever so beautiful under the summer sky. He even got her a bouquet of flowers, though he wouldn’t admit he got them last minute at a nearby florist minutes before the date.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and they were now happily living together. Harry swore he had never felt this much love for someone. Y/N was always there to support and cheer on him with everything he did, whether it’d be touring and appearing on a Vogue cover. He never doubted the love she had for him and it was the same on Y/N’s side. They were just hopelessly in love with one another. 
On one day, Harry and Y/N were on their way to meet up with some friends for some brunch. It took quite an effort for Y/N to get him out of bed, remembering how Harry just wanted to cuddle in with her in bed.
“Harry, get up right now. I really don’t want our friends to think we’re skipping out on them because you wanna cuddle,” Y/N was picking out her outfit for the day while Harry was still lying in bed with his face buried in his pillow. She wasn’t going to lie, Harry did look adorable all wrapped up in blankets and she almost would forget about their plans or the day - almost.
“Don’t tell me you don’t love my cuddles, love. My cuddles are the best of the best!” He said as he poked his head out of the blankets. 
“I do love them, baby. But I won’t have our friends tease us again for being late just because you wanna cuddle or have sex,” she said as she turned around to face him. Harry chuckled and laid on his back, putting his hands behind his head. He smirked as he saw Y/N’s eyes averting to his toned tattooed upper body and blushing at the sight. 
“Think you wouldn’t mind the latter, right darlin’?” He smirked at the effect he has over his girlfriend. 
Blood rose to her face and she cleared her throat as she threw a towel at him. “Stop distracting me and get ready,” she said. Harry only groaned at this.
They soon arrived at the shop and were greeted by their friends, luckily they weren’t late so they didn’t get teased this time. Y/N went around hugging everyone while Harry sat down at their saved seats. “Harry,” a voice called out to him. He looked up and to his surprise saw a familiar face he had not seen in years. 
Her ash brown was straightened and her eyes were as blue as the sky on a sunny day. There’s a hint of a smirk on her cherry red lips. He hadn’t seen her ever since he went to his audition and was speechless of how she was suddenly here in their friend group. 
“C-Cindy, hi,” he greeted her. “Long time, no see, huh?” She said as she sips on her drinks, looking up at him with her doe eyes. Harry, for a second, clenched his jaw a bit before giving a tight smile. “Yeah, been a while,”
Y/N sat down next to him and held his hand, he smiled brightly at her and kissed her temple. “You alright, bub?” she asked and Harry's heart just might burst at how sweet she is. He nodded and she turned to one of their friends, Josh, and delved into a conversation with him. 
Throughout the whole brunch, Y/N couldn’t help but notice a slight change in how Harry was acting. Sometimes, when she asked him something, he would seem to be deep in his thoughts before breaking out of it. She thought it might have to do with Cindy, the pretty girl who sat across him that she hadn’t known of until today. Perhaps Harry and her had a bit of history together. Y/N wasn’t one to be the over jealous girlfriend; she trusts Harry very much in fact. But clearly, there’s a tinge in her heart after seeing the flirty looks Harry had been receiving from Cindy. She made a note to ask him about it later.
When the brunch is over, the couple bid their goodbyes outside of the shop. Just as they were leaving, Cindy called out to Harry. “Do you mind if I get your number? You know, to catch up?” She asked sweetly while handing out her phone.
Harry merely accepted the device, though hesitantly, and typed in his number. “Oh yeah, Y/N, this is Cindy, as you know. Cindy, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” he introduced Y/N and she nods and smiles at his old friend. Y/N saw how Cindy stiffed up with the word ‘girlfriend’ but relaxed and gave a smile. 
“Nice to meet you. Anyways, I’ll text you soon, Harry,” she said as she waves her phone. She bid them goodbye and Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know he held back. He tugged Y/N’s hand and they both headed back home. 
When the both of them arrive home, Y/N could still sense that something is bothering Harry. When he smiles, it’s usually wide with his dimples making their appearance. But now, he only lifts the corner of his mouth. They weren’t the type to hide anything from each other and they’d always confide with one another if something was bothering them. So, she couldn't help but feel worried for Harry. 
“You alright in that pretty of yours, H?” The two laid on their beds, wanting to take a short nap in the afternoon. Harry had his heavily tattooed arm around Y/N while she laid her head on his chest where his heart beated. It was no doubt one of her favourite positions to sleep in, the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep.
Harry chuckled at Y/N’s question, pressing a kiss on her the crown of her head. “Nothing, darling,” he assured her. Y/N propped her head on her hand, looking at him. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 
Harry raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t think she would notice his off behaviour, but of course, she always does. That was one thing he loved about her, she just knew him all too well. She brushed her hand through his curly locks and he closed his eyes, sighing at the feeling. 
“I know it might be something to do with Cindy. You don’t have to tell me everything now, but just want you to know that I’ll listen. Whenever you want to tell me,” she said. He nodded as he listened to her.
She was right, though. They never really kept things from each other so he might as well just confess to her. Plus, she only wanted to help him.
I honestly have the sweetest girlfriend ever, he thought.
“We dated briefly in school,” he said.
Y/N’s eyes widened, she didn’t think he’d say it out now. “I was sorta in love with her back then. Thought she was the prettiest girl in school and all,” he sighed before he continued. “Something happened and it just didn’t end well, on my part at least,” he let out a small laugh, but there was no humor behind it. 
“Seeing her just brought back memories, I guess,” he said. He ran his hand through her hair, stroking his thumb against her cheek. Y/N kissed his palm and laid back on his chest. She figured that was all she was going to get from him, and she didn’t mind it. 
“You’re okay now, right?” She asked concernedly, not wanting to trigger anything. Harry only chuckled and pulled her closer to him. “I am now. And I’ve got you now to take care of me,” he teased. 
Y/N giggled and lifted her head up. “I love you,” she said softly, her words filled with warmth and love. Harry smiled and kissed her lips. “I love you too. So much,” he said back.
It was a few days later when Harry stumbled into Cindy again at a supermarket. He was in the middle of getting groceries when he heard her voice. 
“Harry!”
He looked up from the grocery list to see Cindy walking over to him. Cindy surprised him as she went in for a hug. Harry froze and hesitantly hugged back. They pulled away and he cleared his throat. 
“How’ve you been?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. Not wanting to appear rude though, he tightly smiled at her. “Been good. And you?”
“I’m doing great. It’s really great to see you again.” 
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get going. Y/N’s probably waiting for me at home.” Cindy’s smile faltered a bit upon hearing Y/N. “Yeah, Y/N. How is she?” She asked, although she didn’t seem like she wanted to know.
Harry smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. “She’s doing great! Been studying a lot but she’s doing very well.” Cindy faked a smile, but her heart can’t help but melt at his smile. He always did have a beautiful smile. “Uh, listen, I’m going to a bar with some of our friends this weekend. I was wondering if you wanna join,” She offered as she pouted her lips a bit, fluttering her eyelashes.
Harry hesitated for a minute. “Um, I don’t know. I was planning to stay in with Y/N,” he decided to make up a random excuse. “Oh, what? She doesn’t like partying? I think we all need a break once in a while,” she scoffed. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and talked back, “I never said I won’t come. I’ll think about it, alright?” 
Cindy was flushed and bowed her head, as if she was embarrassed for talking about Y/N quite rudely. Good, she should be, Harry thought. “Right, sorry about that. But let me know. It’d be really nice if you come. Y/N can come if she wants to.” Harry nodded. 
“I’ll, uh, see you around, Cindy,” Harry said as he quickly pushes his cart away from the scene. It was almost suffocating to be in the same room as Cindy, or aisle for that matter. Harry cursed at himself; he could’ve just said no and be over with it. Now, Cindy’s going to expect him to be there. 
Good job, you idiot! He thought.
Of course, Cindy was impossible for anyone to resist and he was sure she knew this. But he didn’t feel right about it. He knew he should’ve let whatever happened in the past go, but his heart just can’t seem to do it. His heart still hurt and was still bitter for what happened. 
Harry was 16 while Cindy was 17. He knew the chances are that you’d be more popular among the crowd if you dated someone a year above you, but that wasn’t his intention at all. He had the biggest crush on Cindy for quite a while. He saw her as probably the prettiest girl in school. So when Cindy asked him out, his little heart just bursted. 
As one month went up, he was already falling for her. He did all the nicest things for her but unfortunately he couldn't see the red flags that warned him about her. They were at some house party, though he wasn’t one to drink back then. He remembered kissing her in one of the empty bedrooms. He remembered Cindy undoing his jeans and feeling flustered at what was about to happen. But he also remembered a couple of drunk guys, who turned out to be Cindy’s friends in her year, barging through the room, holding a recording camera. It was all a blur. 
The next day, he showed up at school to talk to her, but his heart broke after seeing Cindy flirting with a senior. His heart broke even more when Cindy called their relationship off, saying that she only pitied him and never was interested in him the way he was with her. It was all a game to her. The rumours about Harry sleeping around with junior and senior girls start to spread, the recording from the party went out. Harry became the joke of the school. It completely destroyed him for a while. People in the halls gave him dirty looks, some pitied him, but what’s worse was that Cindy never had a bit of kindness in her heart to defend him. It was what triggered his first anxiety attack too. 
Eventually, the video was taken down and the ones who spread the rumours were given a word or two from the principal. But, it didn’t fix the damage and pain Harry went through. 
Now, he finally had the woman of his dreams, one who supported and loved through all he did. One who wiped his tears or even cried with him during the hard times. Harry felt like this was his shot at finally being happy with someone who genuinely and deeply loved him as he did her.
But Cindy's back and now he has to face the woman who played a major role in nearly damaging himself. 
Harry was sure to get a lecture from Y/N about this. He groaned at the thought as he continued his grocery shopping. 
“You did what?” Y/N asked in disbelief.
Harry had finished putting the groceries in the kitchen, all while telling Y/N about his dumb self accepting Cindy’s invitation to a bar. He was now sitting by the island with his face buried in his hands. “Go on. Tell me I’m an idiot,” he sighed.
Y/N chuckled a bit at her boyfriend, “Okay, you’re an idiot.” Harry lifted his face, his mouth agape as his girlfriend called him out. Y/N shrugged, “You told me to say it,”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it, though,” Harry groaned. 
“Look, I’m just confused. From what I know, seeing her again made you uncomfortable. Why didn’t you just decline the offer?” Y/N asked gently, knowing how stressed he is about this situation. “Because I’ll probably feel guilty saying ‘no’ and I’m an idiot.” he said, hiding his face in hands again. 
“Well, you got the idiot part right,” Y/N whispered to herself.
“What?”
“Nothing!”
Harry sighed. Y/N frowned at him. She felt a bit guilty that she can’t offer anything other than advice to him. This was his problem, his past that came back to fool with him and it was driving him up the wall. She walked up beside him and wrapped her arms around, kissing his head lightly. Harry in return wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
“You know you’re not obligated to please everyone, right bub?” Y/N said gently as she stared into his beautiful green eyes. “If even her presence makes you uncomfortable, then don’t go. Of course, I won’t force you if you want to go. But don’t do something that you know it’s hurt you. I don’t know much about Cindy or what she did to you, but don't put yourself through whatever she made you feel years ago again.” 
Harry stared at Y/N with his mouth slightly agape, taking in her words. She was right, as always. He wasn’t going to put himself through the pain and misery he went through years ago. He didn’t need to ‘think about it’. 
“You’re right, darling,” he chuckled. Y/N smiled brightly at him as she ran her fingers through his hair, a gesture that seemed to comfort him always. “Of course, I am,” she teased. Harry rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “I'm gonna tell her I won’t come. ‘Ave the whole day to spend with my beautiful girl,” he smiled. 
Y/N blushed at his words and pecked his lips. “Quite the charmer you are, Styles. Does your girlfriend know how cheesy you get?” She joked. Harry laughed and joked back, “Well, we’re still happily in love together. I’m assuming she doesn’t mind,”
Y/N beamed at him and gave him a more proper kiss. Harry smiled in the kiss, returning the gesture. When they pulled away, she pressed her forehead on his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Think she doesn’t mind either,” she said. 
Harry ended up declining Cindy’s offer, much to her dismay. Unfortunately for Harry though, it didn’t stop her from texting him nearly every day. She was always asking whether Harry was free to hang out, most of the time she implied that it would be just the two of them. Of course, Harry sometimes would ignore them or give her short answers, saying he was busy, which wasn’t a complete lie because he did have to go to the studio once in a while. 
Though, you could really tell how much he wanted to bang his head after receiving those messages and Y/N was also getting annoyed with Cindy and whatever little plan she had. 
“She needs to back off my man. She had her chance and she ruined it. That’s on her,” she exclaimed one time. Harry smirked at this and pecked her lips. “Your man, huh?” He teased.
Y/N blushed after realizing her words, but she still meant it. “W-Well yeah. You’re my man and I’m your girl,” she pouted.
Harry stifled his laugh at her adorable self. “You’re absolutely right, darling. What do you say about having some alone time with your man in the bedroom?” He said as planted kisses at the crook of her neck.
On one of the occasions he went home after being in the studio, he stopped by a nearby coffee shop to buy himself and his girl drinks. He got himself a black coffee and Y/N a hazelnut latte, even asked for two blueberry muffins. 
As he was humming to himself by the side while waiting for his order, his eyes wandered and you could imagine his shock after seeing Cindy at a table across the room. He quickly ducked his head down, praying his order would be ready soon.
“Harry!” The barista called out his name. Harry cursed at the loud announcement, though he thanked them and gave them a generous tip in the tip jar. As he quickly tried to get out there with his head down, he heard Cindy call out to him.
“Harry! Hey!” Cindy called as she waved her arms at him. He internally groaned at this, he walked over to her anyway, not wanting to seem rude. 
“Hey Cindy,” he said, giving her a fake smile. God, he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
“What, babe? You’re not gonna sit down with me?” She smirked. Harry froze at this. 
“Uh, I actually gotta go home to-“ he’s cut off after Cindy pulled his arm down, making him sit opposite her. He pulled his arm back from her, clearing his throat.
“I’ve been texting you and haven’t heard much back,” Cindy said as she pouted at him. Harry pressed his lips in a straight line before he replied, “Yeah, I’ve been busy, working in the studio and stuff,”
Like he said, not a total lie.
Cindy hummed at this. What she said next really surprised him. “I really missed you, you know,”
What?
“Didn’t you miss me, Harry?”
Harry stumbled upon his words, not knowing how to reply to that. Cindy slowly grabbed his hand. “Cindy, what-“
“You ever think what would happen if we never broke up?” She started. Harry thought all of this was ridiculous. Was she even thinking clearly?
“Last time I remember, you broke up with me,” he said bitterly. Cindy’s face became flushed. “And that was my mistake. But c’mon Harry. We’re older now. Never knew you’d be this big in the music industry. We’d be amazing together,” she said.
Is she serious? Has she gone mental?
He pulled his hand away from her grip, as if he was disgusted to hold it. “That’s really rich coming from you, Cindy,” he scoffed.
Cindy frowned at him. “Harry, I-“
Harry cut her off before speaking again. “It’s quite hypocritical of you to say you want me when you clearly said otherwise before. Now that I’m with somebody else, you suddenly want me? You suddenly miss me bowing down to you?”
Cindy scoffed. “So, I made a mistake when we were younger. But we can move past that! Plus, that girlfriend of yours couldn’t possibly be better than me,” she smirked at the last statement.
Harry was now fuming. “That girlfriend of mine has a name and she’s already better than you’ll ever be,” he said firmly.
“Yeah, right,” Cindy mumbled.
“I don’t know if you remember, Cindy, but you nearly ruined my life. I was broken for a long time because of you and your little game you played. But now, I consider myself lucky. I found someone who genuinely loves and supports me throughout my highs and lows. Someone who doesn’t see me as Harry Styles, but simply just Harry. Someone who I can cry and lean on to. Someone who’s clearly not you,” he seethed. 
Harry calmed down for a bit after realising he was starting to lose his temper. Cindy now didn’t look as confident as she always does. She knew Harry was right about everything; she just wouldn’t admit to being in the wrong. 
“I wish under different circumstances, we’d be on good terms. Maybe we could’ve been friends. But what you did to me is still painful to me. And now when I look at you, I’m reminded of how you’re just a beautiful mistake I made,” he said gently this time.
Cindy gasped and looked at him with her mouth agape. “Harry, I-I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wavering a bit as if she’s lost for words. Harry only gave her a nod.
“It was nice seeing you again, Cindy. Have a good life,” he said as he stood up and walked out of the coffee shop. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, as if he finally let go of his past demons haunting him.
When he got home, Y/N was in the middle of painting while following a Bob Ross tutorial in the living room. He chuckled as he watched her face scrunched up in concentration to follow the instructions. He put the bag of coffee and their muffins down on the coffee table and sat down next to her.
“Hi, darling. Ya doing alright?” He asked softly as he kissed her cheek.
Y/N sighed in frustration and paused the tutorial video. “I guess. I used the wrong shade of pink for the sky. Bob is probably disappointed,” she pouted.
“I’m sure Bob will appreciate the effort. If it cheers you up, your painting is probably better than his,” he joked. She giggled at him.
“I’m sure Bob’s ghost is punching the air right now after you said that,” she joked back. 
Harry smiled as he looked at her. Her hair up in a messy bun, her face free of makeup, he sure that she's wearing his button shirt with shorts. She looked ethereal. It was in that moment Harry realised that she was the one he wanted to marry one day.
“Harry?”
He’s popped out of his little bubble as she called him out. “Yeah, love?” 
“You zoned out a bit. You alright?” Y/N asked as she stroked his cheek. Harry smiled at his thoughtful girlfriend and nodded.
“I’m fine, love. Just thinking of how much I love you,” he said genuinely. Y/N blushed at his words. “Well, I love you too,” she beamed at him.
“Well, I hope you do. I bought blueberry muffins for us,” he teased as he took out their drinks and muffins out of the paper bag. Y/N dramatically gasped as she took one of the muffins. “I think we’re truly meant to be together, Harry Styles,” she said dreamily as she took a bite.
Harry laughed at her words and admired her for a bit. I think we’re meant to be, too. He thought as he took a sip of his coffee. He now felt a lot of happiness and joy in his life, with his love by his side.
After letting go of his past, he felt like he could finally breathe again.
942 notes · View notes
pascalscenarios · 3 years
Text
MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND (Javier Peña x Reader)
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MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND 
(Based on the song “Must Have Been The Wind” by Alec Benjamin)
Scenario Series
Javier Peña x Reader
Summary: Javier lives below you, curious of the noise and why’ve you’ve been crying 
Words: 1638
Warning: Toxic Relationship, Arguments
A/N: Hope you all are well! - K
Javier Peña was out cold, worn from working a case that lasted a few days out on the field. The television softly played as his body lay sprawled out on the old and weathered leather couch, wearing nothing but his plaid pattern boxers. Javier's heavy head rested propped up against the armrest. His mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell, deeply breathing through his mouth, snoring ever so slightly. His legs were partly spread open as one of his legs draped over the back cushions of the couch. His arm rested across his torso. The other dangling off the side of the sofa with a half-empty cup of whiskey clutched in his hand.
Nothing could wake him up from his deep sleep. That was until the sound of glass shattering from the apartment up above him startled him awake.
His eyes had shot open. He was a little disoriented, unsure of where the sound came from. Sitting up on the couch, he set his glass on the coffee table, switching it out for the television remote to turn it off, thinking the loud sound came from the movie he fell asleep watching.
He looked around his living room, scoping out if there was anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of listening, he decided it was best to just get up some shut-eye in his bedroom. He stands up from the chair and makes his way down the hallway. He enters his room located at the end of the hall, immediately laying himself on the bed.
As he tried to fall asleep he couldn’t help but listen to the commotion, the continuous sounds of thuds and bangs. His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.
“What the hell…” he cursed to himself, his eyes frowning, wondering what was happening above him.
Then he heard the voice of you crying. Your muffled cries could be heard from above. Javier's irritated expression faded as he listened to you wail.
He was concerned now.
Javier didn’t know the person living above him, but he needed to see if they’re okay. He knew something wasn’t right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he could have done something to help them.
Javier took the stairs up to the 2nd floor, walked down the hallway, and knocked upon your door.
He stood there waiting for a few minutes. No one came to the door. He knocked again, hoping he didn’t have to bust down the door to get inside.
By the third time, as he was in mid knock, the door opened. You stood there partially hiding behind the door using it as a shield between you and Javier. Your tied-back hair was disheveled, eyes were puffy and red. You quickly used the sleeves of your sweater to wipe any tears that may have remained on your face and to try to hide the fact you’d been crying.
Telling from your body language you were uneasy, Javier backed away from the door, giving a good amount of space between the both of you.
“Hi...” Javier said softly. He’s seen you around in the apartment building before, usually in passing.
“I’m Javier Peña, I live in the apartment below yours. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I was hearing a bit of a commotion coming from your place. I came to check to see if you were alright.”
“I think your ears are playing tricks on you.” You prompted. He noticed that your sweater zipped up to your chin. You knew there was no doubt that Javier could hear the fight that happened only moments ago, but you were ashamed, embarrassed that he did. You didn’t want to admit that it happened.
Javier knew you were sacred and wasn’t going to open up and come clean on what happened, especially to a stranger.
“Thanks for caring sir, that's nice of you, but I have to go back in.” You say slowly closing the door, trying to get him to leave and retreat to his apartment.
“Wish I could tell you about the noise you’ve been hearing, but I didn’t hear a thing...” You shrug.
“It must have been the wind.” You muttered.
He didn’t want to pry or push you further, so he went along with what you’ve said.
“I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry to have disturbed you this late, Goodnight”
You give him a broken smile and shut the door.
Javier starts walking down the hallway, turning back to look at your door. He was concerned for you but knew something was going on.
A couple of days have passed. He continued to hear the arguments above. Javier couldn’t shake the feeling. He didn’t want to intrude because he knew he didn’t have all the facts, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you.
He couldn’t get the image of you in his head that night when he saw you. Your tear-stained face and puffy eyes. You looked so fragile, tired and worn.
He could hear you crying right now. The thin walls and floor held nothing back. He wanted to go up and check on you, but he figured you’d turn him away again after he went back to see you a day after the first night. You told him the same thing you did last time “It must have been the wind”
An idea popped into his head. He wasn’t sure you’d get the message, but he had to try.
He walked over to where his record player was, filing through vinyl in a crate that his record player sat on top of.
He finds the vinyl, slipping out the record from the protective sheet, and placing it on the turntable. He turns the record player on and moves the needle. He turns a dial to turn up the volume on his speakers.
You laid on your bathroom floor hysterically crying. Another night fighting with your boyfriend. Your relationship was falling apart and you were desperately trying to save it. You hated that he would break things and throw things around. He would blow things out of proportion. You had no idea why you were even trying anymore or why you even put up with him. You knew he didn’t care, he never did, but he was all you have. You felt alone.
As you lay there on the floor you hear music coming from the apartment down below. You slowly start to calm down as you listen to the singing voice of Bill Withers
“Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on…”
It was Javier. You knew what he was trying to tell you. He wanted to help you, letting you know you could go to him. He already tried to help you, but you had turned him away, pretending things were fine.
The two of you knew you weren’t fine. You continued laying, curling up listening to the song.
Javier was on the roof of the apartment building. He leaned against the brick wall that lined the edge of the building. He was smoking a cigarette as he watched the lights of the city.
You came to the roof to get some fresh air. You busted through the door, Javier turned to look over his shoulders and noticed you.
You had locked eyes. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stood in the doorway. Javier breaks eye contact as he turns back to look at the city and exhales a puff of smoke.
You slowly make your way over to him. You stood next to him, you placed your arms on top, leaning against the brick railing.
“Hi…” You say softly.
“Hi”
“I-I never gave you my name…” You introduced yourself to him.
“I’m Javi-”
“Javier Peña...I know. I remember” you smile softly. “...I’ve seen you around before in the building... What are you doing? Up here I mean…”
“Needed a smoke and a change of scenery. I come up here to think sometimes.”
“Me too.. The thinking part. Not to smoke- I don’t smoke”
Javier chuckled. “Well that’s good to know. I was going to offer you one”
You two silently stand there looking off in the distance. You didn’t mind the silence. It was odd, he’s somewhat of a stranger to you, yet felt comfortable and safe around him.
He looks over at you. “Are you okay?” he asks.
You look up at him, his eyes searching for an answer. You sigh, hanging your head in shame and you fiddle with your fingers. Tears filling your eyes.
“Promise I'm not playing tricks on you. You're always welcome to come in. You could stay at my place for an hour or two If you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but 'till then I'll say, "It must have been the wind”
Javier one last drag of his cigarette and exhales. He drops it on the ground, smashing it in. He sticks his hands in his pockets and walks away back over to the roof door.
“Javier-”
He stops turning around to look at you.
“Goodnight”
“Night”
With that Javier leaving you standing on the roof alone.
The next morning you built up the courage to talk to Javier. You made it down to his apartment and knocked on his door, patiently waiting.
Javier opens the door seeing you stand there fidgeting with your fingers.
“Hey” he greets you
“Hi… I’m sorry to bother you. I thought about what you told me last night. I could use a friend… talk about the noise...I-if that’s okay…”
“Yeah, of course. I was actually about to head down to the diner down the street to get some breakfast and a cup of coffee...Do you wanna go? Can sit and talk..”
“Okay...Yeah I’d like that” you smile softly.
“Okay” he grabs his jacket and keys off the hook and shuts the door. “Let’s go”
Javier and you walked down the hallway together beginning to talk about the so called “wind”.
MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso@greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301​  @alberta-sunrise@spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina 
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yournameyn · 3 years
Text
Feeling Deeply: Chapter 3
Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage Fic.
Pairing: Namjoon x OC
Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. Something neither of them really wanted but are now discovering just how much each needed. Away from their childhoods, their families & their homes, Namjoon & Brishti (the OC) are privileged immigrants who slowly build a home, a family & a true sense of self, together in 1960s London. Please note this is not the typical immigrant experience of that timespace and I’ve taken many-a-leap to write the fluuuufffiness I wanted to write.
A/N: It’s unabashed fluff. And eventual smut but I hope you’re okay with a really slow burn. Like, reaaaally slow. Both our characters are introverts & met as strangers so it’s going to take them a while to get the *ahem* fire going.
Big big big love to @sahmfanficbts, @mintjoonlep, @holdinbacksecrets, @sunshyngal, @xjoonchildx - who give me so much love and encouragement & whose straight up genius writing makes me swooooon!
Characters: Brishti is our OC. She’s a feminist, obviously. She’s Indian, wheatish in colour, curvy & slightly short. Brishti is bengali & her name means ‘Rain’. Her pet name is RimJhim which means the sound of rain. (Namjoon calls her Rim & she calls him Joon) This whole story is a tribute to Forever Rain.
The Namjoon in this fic is what I imagine he would have been had he not followed his dreams at the age of 13. Hopefully, I’m able to do justice to the idea as I write ahead.
Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Brishti & Namjoon meet her colleagues. They listen to the then-rising band The Beatles & take a strong liking to one particular track, if you know what I mean. Again, sorry to spoil but there’s no smut yet. I was not kidding when I said it’s a slooooow burn. Next chapter, it’s happening. There's not much conversation in this chapter, either. Is this almost 3k words of just CONTEXT to the actual smut or just a tease - you tell me!
Also, someone else we love is also introduced in this chapter!
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Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2
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Namjoon loved his weekends now. They were like a real couple, Brishti and him… setting the never ending “final touches” in their home, together. They went out to pubs and gardens, libraries and cafes together. And yet, to both their secret dismay, they hadn't moved ahead from that one hug they had shared. They'd played, instead, with words and been more and more intimate in their conversations.
Brishti introduced him to her colleagues - her group among the staff at the British Library. Working there was her pride & these folk were her joy. This was nerve-wracking for Namjoon because he knew how much she loved them. These were her people. Her true tribe. It was almost like he was meeting her parents. Instead of two indian elders (whom he had spoken to on the only international call she had made since their wedding), he found himself faced with a weird band of strangers. An English couple Harry & Kate who had adopted the library instead of a child, an elder woman from Japan, Sayuri-san - whose stories Brishti narrated to Namjoon all the time, a Korean guy (his age!) & Yana, a girl, Brishti’s age who was half English, half Iranian & completely in love with Sam, the black historian from America, as Brishti had reported. As they settled in for their picnic in Hyde Park, Namjoon tried his best to hide his shock when he found Sam was - one, a girl & two, as tall as him. He wondered which attribute threw him off more. Still, he was completely enjoying himself with Brishti’s Unlikely Gang of Weirdos that Will Save The World. That’s what she called them. Sayuri-san agreed - They were all groovy outcasts who had somehow clawed their way into the (apparently) cutthroat world mainstream librarians.
Brishti was glad to see Namjoon really hit it off with the only other Korean she knew, the guy who’d told her about the only place in London that sold black bean noodles, made the right way. Namjoon had almost cried when she had brought them over from work. The two of them spoke as if they had been thick as thieves for years. They talked about Korean poetry and the folk music they had to participate in their childhoods. They spoke about the music archive section of the library, which was heaven for Min Yoongi. The passion in Yoongi’s eyes when he spoke about maybe someday taking a class about world music appreciation was something Namjoon wished to have too, but wasn’t yet ready to admit.
As they were packing up their picnic, the conversation flowed to a new band in the country. Brishti spoke about how every young girl she had met recently just could not stop talking about how groovy The Beatles are. The elders in charge of the music archive brushed them off as a fad but she was insistent to bring it up every meeting - after all, it was teenage girls that had popularised & helped usher in the lyrical music of Vivaldi. Or of Lisztomania - that popularised the soft romantic tones of Liszt which formed the base of the modern love song. Namjoon loved to see her almost up in arms, struggling to find a better word for the admiration that girls had for music and musicians.
“It’s not hysteria… or fanaticism… it- it’s just love.” She had said. No one disagreed. In fact, everyone in her group was persuaded to (at least) give The Beatles a listen over the weekend.
And so, This evening, A Hard Day’s Night played as they arranged books & records at home. Brishti was arranging the books, apparently not having had enough of the task despite working as a full time librarian. Namjoon’s heart ached when he thought about how Brishti loved her job. Thankfully his mind never stayed on that thought for long. Namjoon wished he could pay attention to the song. These days, paying attention to anything but Brishti was almost impossible. The smallest movement in her, the smallest stir intrigued him.
Meanwhile, Brishti had been trying to figure out a way of getting him to touch her &… as silly as that sounded to her rational mind she couldn’t really come out and say it. Night after night when they’d stayed up talking about things or listening to music or just simply reading their respective books, on the floor or by the window with their legs sprawled out in front of each other, she wished he’d touch her… that somehow maybe he’d notice her feet. Strange as it was, she kept thinking about his hands, his fingers tracing the contour of her ankle while she didn’t turn one page of her book for almost an hour.
She understood the problem - both of them were so hyper-aware of each other while pretending not to be that an accident couldn’t really occur. Things had to be done & Brishti thought about how she shouldn’t let tradition dictate who makes the first move. She also kicked herself for not following tradition and stopping him from taking his pillow & blanket away to the couch on their wedding night they were supposed to sleep on the same bed. It made her heart race that she could sleep next to this Korean Greek God-like feminist man. Ufff. She was covered in tense knots everywhere and anytime she even thought of making a move, the fear in her would make her do something else - like unpack all the books into a makeshift bookcase.
They were facing in opposite directions in the same room and Brishti couldn’t help glancing back at Namjoon again and again. The broad expanse of his back made her long to hug him again. They hadn’t touched each other since she let go of the hug. It made her ache, the memory of him moving away from her. Next time they touch, she wouldn’t let go first - of this she was certain.
Brishti looked at him again & smiled, wondering how someone so tall could look so tiny & cute. Namjoon did look surprisingly tiny, poring over the vinyls & neatly arranging them. She smiled thinking about how he had spent some time wondering if the records should be kept chronologically or alphabetically.
Finally, he had announced, “Ofcourse! I have it! The category has to be mood! The...” Brishti loved the small pauses Namjoon took to find the perfect word. “The story of each album and the feeling it brings out!” The way he smiled, pleased with his decision created a flutter in her heart.
Looking at him poring over each song in each album trying to discern what the overall feeling of it was, she felt an unbearable urge to tease him, to disturb his cataloguing. She would go over and irritate him… probably tickle his waist or blow in his ears. Or maybe just nuzzle his neck. Brishti wondered if these things would actually irritate Namjoon or perhaps lead to something else... The thought made her blush so fiercely, she turned to face her pile of books. Brishti wished she could walk over, silently demand a space in Namjoon’s lap, he would throw out anything that crowded his lap & she would sit there, being cuddled, enveloped in him & talk about songs… if she could talk, at such a moment that is.
She needed to stop staring at him and yet, she couldn’t help but look... She was a warm-blooded woman after all. And Kim Namjoon was a particularly delicious man. It wasn’t so much that he was tall… plenty of men were tall. (She rolled her eyes thinking how most everyone was taller than her.) Unlike other men, though, Namjoon was not awkward or gangly. He had wide shoulders and a gorgeous neck. She had to actively keep her eyes focussed on something else when she could see the contours of his chest.
In that first week of them living together she wanted him. She felt the heat of being seen by those sharp beautiful eyes that held a deep fire in them. Brishti found herself thinking more and more about how his back looked, how it would feel to be cuddled up against that broad beautiful chest, how it would feel to touch him and to be touched by him. She blushed & laughed to herself when her spontaneous thought was that she’d like to “climb that tree” - whenever Namjoon stood up after being scrunched over his table, writing. That yearning awakened a much fiercer part of Brishti -
Why couldn’t she?! He was her husband. They have to come closer at some point, so what was she waiting for? Without a second thought, her body moved to get up & walk over to him. But as it had happened every time, her mind caught up to her at the very last minute. As Brishti walked over, bent, stretched out... for a pile of books close to him. She was close enough to touch him. And still, she just picked up the books & walked back. Thankfully for Brishti, she had a natural sort of nonchalance. Something Namjoon envied. Brishti did not know what this little stunt of hers did to him. Namjoon, with his fists balled, had to hold himself back in that moment. He had to stop himself from grabbing her; from pulling her into his lap and having his way with her.
The gentle thread-like tug he had felt when he’d first seen Brishti’s photos... it had become a magnetic pull now. Shocking and also somehow inevitable.
It had been more than a month of them living together and Namjoon was wrestling with something. An idea, apparently. It was as though an idea was caught in a vast net that he had laid out across the ocean of his mind. But he was having trouble fishing it out. He understood there was no point forcing it, that the idea, the thought would emerge when it, or when he was ready.
Taking his time, slowly, Namjoon was understanding how he had done the perfect thing for her, accidentally. He was confused too, when his instinct told him to let his bride sleep alone on their marital bed the first night they had moved in this flat. He had reasoned that it was the decent thing to do. Unknowingly, he gave her the time to explore, to own that space; Not crowding her with his body. Not invading her with expectations that, no matter how silent, would be blaringly evident. That was the right thing to do. Then.
Now things felt different. Now, it felt like she had made that space, this whole home hers. But then that’s where his thought-net felt stuck. The thought he wanted to fish out kept pulling at him, telling him she needed something else now. Like Brishti craved something else now. He wondered if she, like him, craved touch. Was that why her body instinctively moved, stretched, inched closer towards him these days. Was this why he’d found his shirt among the blanket instead of the laundry basket the other day?
Namjoon tried to shake off these thoughts again - they felt dangerous, explosive. What was happening? He looked back at his beautiful wife and saw her stretch her arms, then her abdomen, all the way till her hips and then bend forward to touch her toes. She mewled, very softly when she did that. Namjoon felt the familiar flip in his stomach again. This time, thankfully, the thought leapt up within reach too.
Namjoon suddenly understood just how feline Brishti is. Somehow, it was a key he needed. The idea surged through him & made him stand up. Because it wasn’t just an idea, it was an epiphany. Brishti looked at him, her eyes asking, saying, expecting something he didn’t understand fully.
The tingle that ran down his spine told him he was about to.
“You okay?” Brishti asked, concerned & embarrassed because the move she expected hadn’t come. But then again, it was probably too much to think Namjoon had stood up to carry her & throw her on their bed. Wasn’t it?
He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room looking confused. Namjoon recovered & asked, “Coffee?”
Brishti smiled & nodded. Namjoon rushed to the kitchen. The catching of this thought excited him. Because after living with her for almost a month, he had just now realised it is this attribute - of being feline-ly feminine or femininely feline - that is what makes his body almost overpower any semblance of restraint his mind had imposed.
At first it seemed silly but soon Namjoon realised it isn’t. Not at all. It really clicked in place like the right key, the precise note does - he understood how to BE with her. Be there for the feline creature-like woman that Brishti was revealing herself to be: The way she walked, slowly almost moodily… letting her feet touch and caress each surface her feet felt. She would be walking across the room but would stop just to walk back and forth, softly, in a way that one can’t really call pacing at all. And everytime she touched something she liked, or saw or tasted something she loved, she made these small sounds that would make Namjoon’s heart melt. They were always half-way between a purr and a moan and they made him wonder what pleasure would make her sound like. Namjoon thought about how Brishti is graceful but her grace, like the curves of her beautiful body, aren’t timid; How, it’s a grace that announces itself... sometimes even before she walks in.
It isn’t the only thing that attracted him to her, not by a far cry. Namjoon thought about how he loves her mind, her words. But this felt, somehow, more… more visceral or... wanting to be. Could something formless long to be touched?; To become tangible, touchable? This feeling, in his chest and his gut. This feeling within him, it jumps, flips every time she walks by. These days it seems like Brishti walks by closer and closer each time she passes him. Like she needs to feel the texture of his skin the same way she needs to feel the slight drag of the rug on the soles of her feet. And it just adds more depth to this deep cavernous feeling within him. Instinctual whispers echoing within-
Why does it feel like he needs to touch a fragrance?
Like all he needs to do is reach out?
Like the moment he will reach out, an essence, an aroma will become an experience?
It felt like Brishti was calling out to him silently. That magnetic pull was stronger than ever and it was pulling him, drawing him to her, telling him to reach out, so she can find her way to him. That feeling, the way he was being pulled… that was feline. Like she needed him to reach out so she could make him hers too. And then, then it happened. The first four notes of ‘And I love her’ played and pulled him to her.
In that moment, in their 7th week together, as Brishti was tracing the lines of Namjoon’s back, gawking at him, thinking about this man - this gorgeous, curious, wonderful man - as her husband… a thought so fantastical it would make her squirm in her seat. Just as she was recovering from the thought, releasing the tension in her shoulders. The knots he didn’t know he caused, Namjoon kept the cups of coffee aside and extended his hand.
‘I give her all my love, that’s all I do…” To him, the instant she did it again, - the stretching her arms all the way up. The little moan she made every time she did that, the way her back arched and highlighted all her curves… it drove him, his body, his instinct to reach out.
“And if you saw my love, you’d love her too.”
The stomach flipped, again. This time, though, his instinct acted before his mind knew what he was supposed to do. Thankfully, his mind caught up -
He had just reached out. Reached out for her to claim him. But to one who didn’t know everything that had been going on inside both their hearts, it would look like he was inviting her to dance. Brishti looked at his hand and then at his eyes and suddenly Namjoon understood the reason for this magnetic pull... these lyrics is what she was saying all along -
“A love like ours could never die, as long as I have you near me...”
She took his hand & left no distance between them. Brishti realised there was music playing in the room only after she took Namjoon’s hand. Before this, she could only hear her own heartbeat, sharpened to an intensity never before experienced. Sharpened to a glint in a way that only love can. Love… and unmistakable, undeniable lust. Her heart had been beating with so much longing it had clouded everything else.
Now, in this moment, with his heart so close to hers, she could finally hear the music. This is what she had needed. This is what her heart had been pining for. And she knew. Without the shadow of a doubt she knew... he had heard her.
Brishti moved to the simple guitar strings that were tugging them both. The melody deepened each time the same four notes played. And each time they rooted deeper in the soil of her heart, she moved him too. His hands on her waist, caressing her curves everytime the four notes played. And they played over and over again… Namjoon followed the lyrics and sang along with his beautiful deep dark chocolate voice in her ears, saying -
“And I love her...”,
And his strong arms around her. How could she… Brishti, even if her name didn’t mean the rain, how could she have resisted pouring?
“Bright are the stars that shine, dark is the sky, I know this love of mine will never die...”
This evening was the first time they’d really touched each other. Stood so close to each other. Moved together.
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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please let me know what you think! Get into my messages about it! I would love to hear what you felt about this!
This is the song that's mentioned here in case anyone is curious.
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7-wonders · 3 years
Text
Here's Where She Meets Prince Charming (but she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter 3)
Summary: Thunderstorms do not conjure good memories for Duncan. He finds a kindred spirit in you.
Well, two people sent me asks saying that they liked the Beauty and the Beast AU, and as I am a whore for validation, I wrote an idea I had a while back. Thanks, friends!
Other works in the Beauty and the Beast!Duncan Shepherd AU: Wilted Roses Smell Just as Sweet | This Place of Wrath and Tears | A Gentleman’s Guide to Wooing Your Prisoner | This Cruel Trick of Fate | Down the Rabbit Hole | Hints of Kindness | Days In the Sun
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Thunderstorms are not something that Duncan Shepherd is very fond of. While many children have a fear of storms, Duncan was not one of those children. He loved to hear the tremendous crash of thunder, counting the seconds between that and the crackle of lightning across the sky to see how many miles away the storm was. For Duncan, storms meant his mother would read him stories until he fell asleep, faking that he was frightened just so she would spend time with him. As a child, Duncan actually enjoyed storms.
But that was then, and this is now.
Now, thunderstorms conjure memories of the night where his life went to hell. When the winds begin to rage and the house shakes with the force of thunder, when rain demands to be heard and lightning lights up the night, Duncan flinches with the worry that she might be waiting on the other side of the door. After all, the witch who cursed Duncan and his entire household darkened his life on a dark and stormy night. Maybe the forced transformation into a beastly creature, being trapped on the grounds of the secluded manor with a now-invisible staff, and the reminder that he will die unless he manages to fall in love with somebody, and have that somebody fall in love with him wasn’t enough for her.
Staying in one spot is making him nervous, and he wants to make sure that, on the off-chance the Enchantress does decide to come back for him, she can’t catch him by surprise. Duncan begins to walk up and down each of the halls of the manor, checking doors and windows and only slightly flinching at a particularly loud boom of thunder. It’s worth it though, for the peace of mind that this security check provides him.
It’s when Duncan reaches the main floor that all senses are on high alert. There’s music playing from somewhere, actual music. Battery-operated devices had long since died, and electronics could not be charged, which meant that the staff was eventually unable to listen to music, their one lifeline to the outside world that they had once been a part of. When that day arrived, it came as a relief to Duncan, who loathed the tunes and melodies that haunted and teased him. Now, for there to be more than the quiet humming coming from the staff, music surely meant trouble.
He begins to follow the sound down the hall, all the while keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of a glowing aura. Eventually he reaches the library, where the source of the music is coming from. However, it’s not a witch that’s set up a perfectly-planned trap and is deviously waiting for Duncan to come to her. Instead, it’s a record player. He’s not sure where the record player came from, but it’s hooked up and spinning a Fleetwood Mac vinyl. You’re on your back next to it, reading a book in front of the fire.
Duncan didn’t think that he was going to go any further into the library, but his legs have a mind of their own. It’s only when you look at him before sitting up that he now realizes he’s halfway into the room.
“Hi,” you say awkwardly, turning the volume down on the record player. “I can leave, if you’re wanting to use the library.”
“No!” Duncan realizes that sounded a little forceful, so he clears his throat and tries it again. “No, you’re fine. I just...heard music playing, and it’s been so long since we had music here that I was trying to find the source. Where did you get the record player from?”
“I was bored and looking through closets, and I found this and a bunch of records.”
“And out of all of the records you found, you had to pick Fleetwood Mac?”
“Hey, don’t talk shit about Stevie Nicks.”
You throw your head back in a laugh, and Duncan thinks that he might actually smile. The beginnings of a rare smile are thwarted, however, when an unexpected clap of thunder makes goosebumps rise on his arms. Of course, you notice the grimace on his face.
“You don’t like storms?”
Duncan looks into the fire, not used to somebody looking at him for any amount of time. “Not really, no. Bad experience in the past.”
You nod in understanding, and Duncan believes this is the end of the conversation. Surprisingly, it’s not. “My dad would always tell me that storms weren’t meant to be weathered alone. We would spend thunderstorms together, playing games or watching movies, sometimes even just sitting together, and suddenly, the storms wouldn’t be so bad.”
Duncan hums in acknowledgement, not quite sure what you’re getting at. You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“Come and sit with me,” you clarify.
“Oh.” Out of all the things that Duncan had been expecting from you, this was not that. It takes a minute for his brain to cooperate, but he does finally sit down on the couch. It’s not exactly “sitting with you,” but you won’t argue with this. “Is...is this okay?”
“I’m the one that invited you in here, aren’t I?”
“You did.” A long time ago, he would have never been so shy and unsure of himself. If Duncan then were to meet the man beast that he had become, he definitely wouldn’t recognize himself.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
“An actual question, smartass, not just permission to ask a question.”
Duncan smirks, but nods. “Why did you save me? That night where I tried to run away, you could have just let me die. That would have solved a number of your problems, but you didn’t let me die. Why?”
How was Duncan supposed to answer this question without sounding like even more of a creep? After all, he couldn’t exactly say that he saved you because you were his last chance to even potentially break the curse and save his life. Even then, he knew that this wasn’t the full answer. Truthfully, he saved you because, for some reason, he couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. It was a split-second decision, and one that had a multitude of reasons behind it.
In the end, he settles for the very beginning of the truth.
“You selflessly gave up your freedom so your friend could have his. I couldn’t let that sacrifice go to waste.” You don’t look extremely satisfied with that answer, but it’s good enough that you don’t ask for further elaboration. “What about you? Why did you give up your freedom for Jim’s?”
You raise your eyebrow. “We’re playing 20 Questions now, are we?” With a sigh, you stand up. “I’m gonna need some alcohol for this.”
//
Duncan has not enjoyed himself like this in a very long time. He’s had so much fun learning about you, from the mundane like your favorite color, to the introspective like if aliens really do exist. Likewise, he’s found himself opening up to you as well. 20 questions had turned into 40, which turned into so many that he’s lost count. With each question you took a sip of wine, leading to personal space becoming nonexistent and your body becoming boneless, that is, you were now lying right up against him and giggling. You aren’t drunk, but you’re definitely tipsy, and the wine has given you a warmth in your veins that heats you up against him.
Most importantly, and something that Duncan won’t note until later that night when he’s alone and missing your warmth, is that the storm hasn’t bothered him since he started talking with you.
“You’re tired,” Duncan states, looking at the way your blinks last longer and longer.
“A little, but ‘m okay. Besides, we’re talking.”
“You should go to bed.” His hand pauses at the last second, and he jarringly realizes that he was about to stroke your hair.
You nod, clumsily sitting up and trying to get your bearings after dozing. Duncan stands with you, beginning to walk with you to your room. “What are you doing?”
“Wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to decide the floor makes a good bed.”
You chuckle. “Y’know, you try to act like you’re a scary guy, but you’re not. You’re actually really thoughtful.”
“I’m not, but thank you.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Now, he almost regrets walking you to your room, the door of which you’ve now reached. He stands a respectable distance away, ready to slip off back to his wing and wallow in solitude for the night. “I want to ask you one more question.”
“And what question is that?”
“What’s your first name? Nobody ever says it.”
He could choose to ignore your question, or tell you that that’s something he likes to keep private. He doesn’t feel like he deserves a first name anymore. First names are for people who aren’t monstrous beings cursed by a vengeful witch. But you’re looking at him with a waiting smile, and you’ve both shared so much tonight.
You think this question is a lost cause as the silence continues to stretch on. As you start to turn the doorknob open, ready to mumble apologies, he speaks.
“My name is Duncan.”
You turn around, grinning, and for the second time tonight, the warmth with which you look at him almost takes his breath away. “Goodnight, Duncan.”
Duncan wishes you goodnight as well, waiting until the door shuts before finally going back to his wing. In the empty study that he used to use, the enchanted rose, which wilts more and more each day and continues to lose petals, glows with a long-forgotten hope.
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