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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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Tying You To Me — Part 3

Summary: Spencer's trip the therapist gives him something to think about. New friendships are made and a new fluffy edition is added to his tiny family of one.

Content Warning: Cursing, a drunken kiss that is rejected, running themes of infidelity and cheating, prose so purple it's Red TV, an unhealthy amount of Taylor Swift references because I decided to write this while crying to Red at 3:00AM on Friday morning.

Word Count: 6500

Author's Note: This chapter turned out much sadder and more angsty than I intended and it's all Taylor Swift's fault. And thank you to @reidslibrarybook i love you Nat :)

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Did The Love Affair Maim You Too?

“So Dr. Reid, what brings you in here today?” Dr. Cruz asks, sitting across from Spencer in her comfortable chair. Her office is decorated with pictures of State Parks and the warm yellow paint makes him feel relaxed. It’s all mind tricks, though. He knows it because he uses it, but when it’s being used on you it feels a little different, “What made you want to go to therapy?” she asks again.

“It’s Spencer, please, I’m just Spencer here,” he corrects, “You know, I think the obvious answer is Rebecca cheating on me with our neighbor”

“But is that why you’re here, Spencer,” Dr. Cruz asks, prompting him to look a little deeper, “And if formality isn’t an issue with you, you can call me Valentina,” she tells him, placing her clipboard on the side table next to her. She’s a little older than Spencer, which is comforting in a way, and reminds him of Penelope.

“No, I guess not,” Spencer says, “I guess, I really don’t know why I’m here. Other than my friends, Luke and Penelope telling me I should have gone after I got out of prison. I mean, I did, but just so I could keep working at the BAU, but I guess that’s not really a good reason to go to therapy,” he says, his thoughts muddling through his mind, “So, I think with everything that happen since then I kind of have felt a little lost,”

“Can you tell me more about that feeling, Spencer?” Valentina asks, “What do you mean by lost?”

Lost. Such a fickle word, Spencer thinks. It’s a vague term that, in Spencer’s case, has a murky history going back nearly 15 years. Has he been lost since he met Gideon and came to the BAU? And what was that, if not filling that father-shaped hole that William left in his heart? Does everything stem from him? His failure as a husband is because he didn’t get to watch what a good husband looks like growing up. But does that excuse Rebecca’s infidelity? Does that make her wrong, right?

“Spencer,” Valentina says, “Spencer, I think you need to separate your professional mind from your personal one,” she suggests, “You can’t think like an agent. You’re treating your situation like a case, and you can’t do that. Not when you’re so emotionally invested in what’s happening,” she tells him, reminding Spencer of the times that he’s gotten way too invested in cases, many of which usually don’t end well or leave him with life-long scars.

“Okay, I can try that,” Spencer says, wishing that turning the part of his mind that’s always on overdrive was easier said than done, “Rebecca, I met her through my friend Derek and his wife Savannah. When I met her, she really seemed like my last chance at happiness. And for what it’s worth, I think we made each other happy, even if it wasn’t for a lifetime like I wished for,”

“So why do you think she was unfaithful?” Valentina asks, “In our last session, we talked about what you went through in prison, but I want you to think about what you mean by lost yourself. Do you think your marriage had anything to do with that?”

He knows the answers that can get him out of here in under three weeks, but like Valentina said, he has to separate the professional from the person. Which is hard, when her personal life is so intertwined with her professional one.

“I think she lost herself too,” Spencer answers, “I love my wife, or loved. Or still love, I’m honestly not really sure, but all I know is that at some point she was the most important person in the world to me. And I thought I was to her, but I guess somewhere along the lines we slipped through the cracks,”

“There’s that word again, Spencer. Lost, you know, when a lot of people come to me saying that they’ve lost themselves two things are the most common: divorce and unemployment. In a way, but are mourning something. You’re mourning the life that you thought you had, Spencer. And that’s okay,” Valentina reassures him.

“I never thought about it like that,” Spencer says, picking at the frayed strands of fabric on his chair. He’s no stranger to grief and loss. But is losing Rebecca the same pain as he felt when he lost Maeve? He feels the heaviness on his chest, but he feels a strange sense of relief too, “I did lose a girlfriend, she, uh, she died. A couple years before I met Rebecca. It feels similar, I suppose,” Spencer says, not fully ready to talk about Maeve with Valentina.

“You’ve been through a lot of loss, Spencer,” she comforts, “Feeling this sense of loss, this sense of uncertainty, after having the rug swept up from your feet, is normal. So you felt lost, Rebecca felt lost, but she cheated,”

“I was married to my work more than I was married to my wife,” Spencer ventures, feeling that familiar tightness in his chest whenever he feels uncomfortable, “And it fucking sucks because all I ever dreamed of is having a family and a partner. I never wanted to be like my dad, to be married to my job, but here I am,”

“So that’s what you fear, turning into your father?” she asks, “And do you think that’s come true? Are you the same man as your dad,”

“Well, no. Maybe, I’m not sure anymore, Dr. Cruz,” Spencer laments, still feeling the lump in his throat as he looks across the small coffee table at his therapist, “And if there’s one thing I hate it’s not knowing the answer,”

“From what you’ve told me about you father, Spencer,” Valentina starts, “You’re nothing like him. Your marriage to Rebecca isn’t like your parents’ marriage. All marriages are different, Spencer,”

Y/N’s ghostly haunted face, not unlike Spencer’s, flashes across his mind’s eye. As much as he can relate to his former neighbor, Spencer doesn’t know what exactly happened behind closed doors. She can’t always be the vengeful woman drinking wine as she kicks her husband out of the house for infidelity, nor can she be the mysterious neighbor with a broken heart at the bar. Maybe she’s lost herself as well, maybe they are just two ghosts standing in the place that was once home.

“I’m scared that I gave up on Rebecca like William gave up on my mom,” Spencer confesses, “Maybe I should have tried harder, spent less time in the office, maybe if I didn’t let her slip through the cracks she wouldn’t have cheated on me,”

“You know that’s not true, Spencer,” Valentina says, “Your marriage ended because Rebecca was unfaithful,”

“Yes, but, what if I tried harder, I could have worked less. I could have done more to save my marriage,”

“Dr. Reid, there’s no buts. Let yourself grieve your marriage without casting blame on yourself. Let yourself mourn the life you dreamt of, but don’t dwell on it. If you dwell on it, it will consume you and then you’ll never move on,”

“Move on?” Spencer asks, his voice hollow and hardly recognizable. In that moment he can pinpoint the exact meaning of lost. He is lost. He feels loss. But, he can’t let it consume him, he knows that. He saw the way that Hotch felt after Haley left him, how he was when she was actually gone. He’s been through that, to some degree, with Maeve.

“How do I do that?”

“Find yourself, Spencer,” Valentia says, “I’m going to give you a little homework,”

Homework. Spencer likes homework, but something tells him that this homework might be a little more difficult than Math 50 at CalTech.

“Have a conversation with a friend. And they can’t be from work,” Valentina tells him, “Go for coffee, a walk, to a museum, but have a conversation with someone. And don’t talk about work, or your divorce. Just be Spencer. No facades, no masks hiding you,”

“A friend?” Spencer says skeptically thinking that this is probably the hardest homework assignment he’s ever gotten.

“Yes, you know that it’s important for us to have identities outside of our marriage and employment. And from what I’ve noticed, you lack in those categories,” Valentina gauges, reading Spencer, not unlike Spencer reading unsubs during interrogations.

“Friends have never been my area of expertise,” Spencer confesses, “I’m not sure how I exactly go about this, but I uh,” he says, wondering if this will be the worst mistake of the year, “I have an idea of someone I can talk to,”

“Then you should call them,” Valentina says, “And next week we will talk about your conversation,”

“My therapist said I should make a friend,” Spencer says, sitting across from Y/N at the cafe table. Aster sleeps in the stroller next to her, silently snoozing as they stare at each, neither brave enough to bring up the elephant in the room.

“A friend,” Y/N deadspans, her eyes playful, yet guarded as she scans Spencer over. He flits his gaze downwards, knowing the situation is awkward for everyone involved.

“Yes, well, outside of work and anyone that Rebecca and I were friendly with during our marriage,” Spencer explains, taking a bite of his muffin as Y/N nods her head, taking in his words.

“So you choose the woman whose ex slept with your ex, and who you hooked-up with too,” She analyzes, catching Spencer off guard with her astute commentary.

“Well,” Spencer says, licking off the sugar from his fingertip, “I don’t really have many friends outside of work as it is,” he tells her, “And you seem like you need a friend too,” he says, venturing to read the woman across from him. It’s easy when he can recognize the way that her smile seems to naturally fall into a frown. He can look into any mirror and know that what they are, are ghosts of who they used to be.

“At least I know that I didn’t accidentally give you the wrong number, Spencer,” Y/N challenges, her true words stinging his cheeks, reminding him of that night, “Look, Spencer, I get it, we were a little buzzed and sad and lonely. We fucked and you didn’t call. I’m a big girl,” she rushes, tapping her fingers against the table, “I’m not mad, Spencer. I just, that night we had, I’m scared it meant more to me than it meant to you,”

It meant something to her? He wouldn't have thought that, he would never think that it could mean something to her, that it could mean something to her like it meant something to him.

“Sex isn’t something that I’ve ever taken lightly, Y/N,” Spencer whispers, daring to hover his hands over her’s, “I’m just, I haven’t had much experience in love or relationships and with all that’s happened with Rebecca, I’m just not sure I can take another heartbreak,” Spencer professes, his words echoing in his ears with the dancing ghosts of Ethan, Maeve, and Rebecca forever haunting his heart.

“So friends,” Y/N says, squeezing his hand, “Friends who occasionally, sometimes, maybe seek to release certain frustrations together,” he offers, laying on the proposition without saying it directly.

A friend with benefits with his neighbor whose husband slept with his wife is a recipe for disaster. But, Spencer can’t deny the way her hand fit into his perfectly his, or the way her eyes glazed over with pleasure when she cried out his name. She wasn’t perfect, she was like him. Maybe fractured hearts need fractured hearts to learn how to heal again.

“I think I can do that, Y/N,” Spencer says, placing her palm facing up on the table and drawing shapes on her skin, “We can figure it out together, Y/N,” he says, offering a smile, that, while it can’t patch up her broken heart, it might glue it back together, leaving the tapestry of jagged lines in its wake.

“Tell me something interesting,” Y/N says, breaking the tension, “I’m not really sure what friends talk about but, tell me something interesting,”

“My godson, Henry, is trying out for the soccer team,” Spencer says, unsure himself as to what to talk about. It doesn’t take much for him to realize that his conversations circle primarily around work, “I think he takes after his mother, she was a soccer player back in high school,”

“Is Uncle Spencer going to be coaching?” Y/N teases, rocking Aster back and forth in the stroller with one hand and lifting the cup of coffee to her lips with her other, “I know for a fact that you’re deceptively athletic, Spencer,”

“Deceptively athletic,” Spencer repeats, feeling his cheeks blush at her insinuation, “I don’t know where you get that idea from. Besides, I don’t know much about soccer,”

She laughs into her drink, her eyes darting up from the rim. He doesn’t know what he said was particularly funny, but neither does he get the impression that Y/N is laughing at him. For the most part, he spent a good portion of his life trying to decode if people were laughing at him or with him. It’s hard for him to decipher their true intention, but right now it’s not.

“What about you?” Spencer asks, “Do you have hobbies, I mean I haven’t had a hobby since I was 10,” he says, thinking back to the last time he played as a little kid.

“I don’t really have time for hobbies,” Y/N answers, “Between the firm and Aster and putting up with James’ shit, it’s hard to find time to enjoy things,” she says sadly.

“I know what you mean,” Spencer says, carrying on the conservation effortlessly. He wonders if it’s always been this easy to talk to people or if he just needed to find the right person to talk with, “I’ve been with the Bureau since I was 22. It’s hard to recognize myself anymore. All I feel like I do is go to work, go home and sleep, and do it all over again,”

“It gets monotonous, you know. But it’s not my job that made me forget who I was, it’s James,” Y/N says, the venom in her voice reminiscent of how she was in the bar all those nights ago. Spencer really can’t think about that night right now, especially when he’s having coffee with a friend in a cafe. A normal Wednesday afternoon with no intentions or seduction.

“I was so sure of who I was at 22. I thought I knew everything,” Spencer ventures, knowing that he’s going directly against Valentina’s advice talking about his doomed marriage and his unhealthy work habits, “How did I know everything at 22, but nothing at 35,”

“You’re starting to make me wish this coffee was a bottle of Vodka,” she says wryly. Spencer feels his cheeks blush, thinking about the last time they talked and shared a couple drinks.

“Well, we both know where that leads,” Spencer comments, finishing the last drop of his coffee, “Not that I regret anything, Y/N,” he assures, hoping that he doesn’t come off like he’s insinuating he regrets what happened between anything. Regret isn’t what he tasted in his mouth when he woke up to an empty bed. Confusion, maybe. Loneliness, definitely.

“I don’t either,” Y/N says quickly, putting her hand over Spencer’s and squeezing gently, “You were there for me in a way that no one else could be, because they wouldn't understand,” she says, helping him understand, a bit at least, all the confusing emotions battling in his mind.

“I would have made you breakfast, you know,” Spencer says, “If you stayed,” he says, when he really wants to say is when you left me.

“Spencer, I’m 32 years old and I’ve been with James forever,” she says, her voice trailing off at the mention of James, “It was very unlike me to do that. It’s been years since I did something like that. If ever,”

“I could tell,”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to look bashful. She occupies her flustered embarrassment by fixing Aster’s already perfectly placed baby blanket. As much as Spencer enjoys watching her get flustered by the memories of their hook-up, he doesn’t want to make her too nervous. After all, in all the years that they were neighbors, he always thought she’d make a good friend. Maybe she will, in a very unconventional way. Then again, Spencer was never one for tradition.

“Well, let’s just say that what I did was not like me,” she says, feeding Aster some cereal stars, the same ones that Henry liked as a baby, “At all,” she adds for emphasis, smiling as Aster nibbles on the cereal, “What about you? What’s something crazy that you’d want to do?”

Besides the revenge cheating, Spencer thinks, keeping that comment to himself. He’s not one to do anything uncharacteristic. Most of his days consist of traveling for work, spending his free time three wheeling after Penelope and Luke, or visiting his mother. All together, he’s pretty boring.

“I always wanted a cat,” Spencer says, “My wife doesn’t like them,”

“How could you not like cats?” Y/N says, “I mean they are so intelligent and self sufficient. And they’re very good companions,” she says, repeating the commonly known benefits of cats.

“I know,” Spencer says, “I had one growing up, Alfie was my best friend when I didn’t have anyone. He helped me get through the nights when I’d be up hearing my parents scream at each other. Or when my mom would think that there were people after us so she’d make us sleep in our basement,” Spencer explains, remembering the comfort he’d feel when Alfie would purr in his arms.

“Your mom is she?” Y/N says, unaware of Spencer’s mother’s condition, “I don’t mean to pry, Spencer. You don’t have to say anything,”

“It’s okay,” Spencer says, “I trust you, Y/N. You’re a very good listener. It’s nice to have a friend,” he tells her, holding her hand just as she held his, “But my mom was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was little. So growing up was hard, she did her best. She was the best mom she could be. And uh, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a couple years ago,”

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” Y/N says, looking across the table at him, “That’s a lot for a young person to deal with. I’m sure you were an incredibly brave little boy, you’re a very strong man, now,” she says, looking at him with such care in her eyes it makes Spencer want to kiss her.

He has a terrible habit of falling too quick when people are nice to him. Spencer has spent his entire life falling in love in the cruelest way. He’ll fall passively, as if he’s stumbling over all the red flags and warning signs and after one drink in a bar he’s sleeping with his ex-wife’s adulterous partner’s ex-wife. And now he’s staring at someone who’s driveway he’d help shovel when her husband was too drunk or too selfish to help, thinking about how soft her lips were when she kissed him.

Lost in his daydream, Spencer doesn’t notice when Y/N starts packing up her keys and shoving the plastic container of Aster’s cereal into her diaper bag. One of two things must have happened: his staring freaked her out, sending her to run for, what he will admit is probably for the best, the hills or she has an actual emergency. He supposes it’s the former.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Spencer asks, as he watches her get up from her seat and sling on Aster’s diaper bag, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” she says, beaming uncharacteristically, “We’re going go get you a cat,” she says, keys in hand, ready to head out the door, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake.

“A cat?” he says skeptically, even though he’ll be the first to admit having a cat again would be nice. In the seconds that it takes for his mind to make the decision, his eyes are busy scanning over Y/N’s face. He can’t let himself stare for too long, he’s already feeling like he’s flying through the freefall, “A cat,” he says, this time more confident.

“A cat,” Y/N confirms, smiling back at Spencer for a moment too long, “Let’s get Spencer a cat,” she says, crouching down to Aster. Her voice raises an octave; her delightful tone drips of nothing, but love and adoration for her daughter. He hates the pang of jealousy the twinges in his heart. He’d never resent Rebecca for the way that their life turned out, but part of him always dreamed of being a father one day.

“Come on, Spencer,” Y/N says, pushing the stroller towards the exit, “there’s a shelter around the corner, I’ll drive because it’s a pain to carry all this, so meet you there?” she says, her eyes and expression looking hopeful to Spencer’s observation skills. And before he can stop himself, he rests a hand on the stoller, stopping Y/N from exiting.

“Nonsense,” he tells her, “Give me the bag, I’ll take it and you got the stroller and Aster. It’s so nice out, we can walk together,” he offers, hoping to extend their conversation for as long as he can milk it. After so long with only his colleagues to talk to, it’s nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially when those people understand his pain so acutely.

“I don’t want to bother you with Aster,” Y/N says, prepared, as it seems, to make things easier for others while in turn making it harder on herself. That’s something that Spencer knows a thing or two about, “She’s sweet, but if she gets fussy it can be a lot,”

“I love babies, Y/N,” Spencer says, crouching down so he’s eyelevel with Aster, “And your daughter is probably the calmest baby I’ve ever seen,”

“Well, it’s your funeral if she starts screaming in the middle of the shelter,” Y/N says, handing him the diaper bag as they head out the door. He chuckles to himself, noticing how easy it is for his ex-neighbor to hide the softer, more vulnerable side of herself in favor of a snarkier, harder exterior.

“I’m actually pretty good with babies,” Spencer says, taking two long strides to catch up with Y/N, “Do you want to hear the story of how I delivered a baby?” he says, unable to contain his smile at the site of Y/N’s bemused expression.

Two hours later, Spencer and Y/N arrived at his apartment with his newly adopted kitten, Aster, and an entire armful of cat toys and pet supplies in tow. The little gray kitten sleeps contently in her new pet carrier. Spencer debated with himself the whole car ride home about what to name the new edition to his family.

“You really didn’t have to come here, Y/N. I appreciate it and all, but I know you probably have better things to do than haul a 10 month old up three flights of stairs,” Spencer says, apologizing for being the reason she’s going out of her way.

“What are friends for, Spencer,” she says nonchalantly as she puts down Aster’s carseat on the floor, “It’s not like we have anything else to do, but go home to an empty apartment,” she adds, reminding them both of their perpetually lonely existence.

It’s certainly a change for Spencer, but a change that Valentina would be happy about, he thinks to himself as they open the packages of cat beds, toys, and food.

“Poppy and you will be very happy together,” Y/N says, smiling as she unzips the pet carrier to get Poppy out, “She’s going to be such a lucky little kitty,” she says, her voice going up to that similar tone she used with Aster back in the cafe.

“You really are such a pretty little kitten,” Y/N coos, rubbing her thumb across the bridge of the kitten’s nose. Poppy purrs happily in Y/N’s hands and Spencer is left wondering if it would be against Valentina’s advice for her to stay over for dinner and maybe into the morning.

He brushes those thoughts away, but it’s difficult when all he can see is Y/N introducing Aster to Poppy and all he can hear is her using that sweet voice to talk to them both.

“You’re a very good mom, Y/N,” Spencer whispers, sitting on the floor with the trio, “I think I need you to write me an advice book,” he jokes, even though he speaks a half-truth.

“I think you’ll be a natural. You’re brilliant and kind and very sweet,” Y/N says, helping to boost his confidence, but taint his heart in the same breath, “You seem like dad material,” she adds, settling comfortably on the floor as she pets a purring Poppy.

“I wanted kids,” Spencer says shyly, approaching a subject he hasn’t dared to tell anyone, “But Rebecca didn’t. And I wasn’t going to make her do something to her body that she didn’t want to. Marriage, as you know all too well, is about sacrifices. And I made that sacrifice a long time ago,” Spencer says, “And now, now I feel like I’d mess a kid up too much,”

“I know that it’s difficult navigating that with a spouse, Spencer. And for what it’s worth, if you end up a cat dad, you’ll be the best cat dad there is,” Y/N says, handing the small kitten to him. Aster’s eyes light up with excitement as she sees Poppy.

“Gentle to kitty,” Spencer says, holding out Poppy for Aster to pet and holding her other hand to show her how to pet the cat properly, “Kitty so soft,” he says, doing his best to mimic the light and airy voice that Y/N uses with her.

“You better stop, Spence,” Y/N says, laughing as she watches Spencer and Aster together, “You’ll make her want a cat if you don’t,” she teases.

“You know, there’s a lot of research done into the theory that raising a child with a pet, particularly a cat, increases their emotional intelligence. Not to mention responsibility and independence,” Spencer says, ready to list off peer viewed articles on the topic if Y/N gives him the word.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N says, picking up Aster’s car seat, “It was a nice day, Spencer. I don’t really remember the last time I actually laughed like that,” she says, “But, Aster and I will get out of your hair now. It’s almost time for her afternoon nap,”

“Okay,” Spencer says, knowing words of understanding come to echo back in the loneliness of his empty apartment, “Of course, but uh, Y/N. Thank you,” he says, his voice turning into a unsure tone he hates. It reminds him of the boy he used to be, not the man who’s been through hell and back.

“It’s what friends are for, neighbor,” Y/N says, swinging the diaper bag on her shoulder. She plants a quick kiss on his cheek. Her lips don’t linger— but the aftershock stings like a tattoo. She doesn’t give him much time to react.

He wants to ask her to stay because he also can’t remember the last time he laughed that hard too. But it doesn’t take a profiler to sense the tension that blankets the room. Maybe it’s the way his heart feels heavy when he hears Y/N’s voice change as she talks to Aster and Poppy. The unmentionable, yet unregettable and unforgettable night they shared follows them around as the mime fake niceties and casual small talk.

“Bye,” Spencer says, smiling as best as he can when all he can think about is the shape of her lips and Valentina's cautionary words and the emptiness of his apartment.

Well, not completely empty.

Still purring in his arms, Poppy wiggles in an effort to free herself. Spencer’s read enough pet owner manuals to know that it’s important for cats to get acclimated to their new environment as soon as possible. It promotes a healthy and happy relationship between pet and owner. He lets Poppy down and sits on the floor with his legs extended outward.

“Hey there, little kitty,” Spencer whispers, petting a single finger across the cat’s tiny back. She looks so small next to his feet, “It looks like it’s just you and me,” he says, sadly.

Poppy attacks his laces, throwing the string between her small paws. Spencer frowns at the sight, wondering darkly to himself how on Earth he, something so broken and damaged, will be able to care for something so wholesome and innocent. He picks her up, smiling as the kitten licks his hand with her sandpaper tongue. She settles down comfortably against his chest, her purring drowning out the dullness in his mind that reminds him that he’s never going to be himself again.

His personal phone hardly ever rings.

Spencer sits up from his crouched position on the couch. Poppy sleeps peacefully on his chest so he does his best to not disturb the kitten. He must have fallen asleep to the dull tones of late night television featuring the clownish jokes and immature humor of a man in an expensive suit and a terrible hairpiece. She prefers the bed, but it’s hard for Spencer waking up in the cold bed after so many years with someone beside him.

The glowing blue light burns his eyes as he looks at his phone. Unable to see the blurry name, Spencer picks up the phone without hesitation.

“Dr. Spencer Reid speaking,” he says, wondering if it’s his mother’s care facility.

“Are you always this formal, Doctor Reid?”

Spencer, sitting up, wakes up Poppy in the process. He pets her in apology as she finds a warm spot on the couch. Spencer’s attention, however, is glued entirely to the woman on the other end of the phone call.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice sounding straggled from sleep, “it’s late,”

“So you are a genius after all,” Y/N whispers into the phone, “there were always rumors on the block about you. And them,” she says, her venomous words dripping with familiarity. He doesn’t want to think about the rumors that circulated his former suburban Hell.

Norman Rockwell would have gone mad there with the smarmy men and their stories of college tailgates and the gossiping women and their stories of their so-called friends. It’s not to say that Spencer wasn’t happy there with Rebecca. He was. And he’d venture to say that Y/N was happy, at one point, with James. Or maybe they played ‘happy’ like little kids play pretend. Fake adults playing house but their shattered hearts were made of real glass- not the kid stuff.

“I’d rather not think about that if that’s okay with you,” Spencer says, his clipped tone revealing that he doesn't particularly care for late night phone calls, “Is there something you needed, Y/N?” he asks, turning off the glowing television. He’s left in the dark with only the moonlight to keep him company.

“You,” she says, sounding dreary despite her obvious attempts at being intriguing. She doesn’t need to be anything but herself for Spencer to want her company. And while Valentina’s words echo in his mind, Spencer can’t help but hear himself in her breaking voice, “I’m texting you my address,” she says, hanging up without waiting for an answer.

His phone buzzes as her name appears on the screen. He is reminded just how much he doesn’t use his personal cell phone when his and Rebecca’s smiling faces appear on the bright screen. Somehow, it’s harder to change the wallpaper than it was to sign the divorce papers.

Spencer glances at Poppy. The kitten is curled on the couch not having to play ‘happy’ she just is. She doesn’t have to worry about being anything, but herself. The twisted thing is that Spencer has only ever felt like his old self when he was with Y/N. Maybe they are chasing ghosts, clinging on to the last hope. Or maybe they’re seeking something beautifully fractured and meant to stitch back together.

Spencer wasn’t sure what to expect for Y/N’s apartment. They weren’t close enough neighbors to have spent time in each other’s homes. Even though he’s left wondering if Rebecca has seen more of her old him through James than he ever did. And, on the other hand, did Rebecca bring James into their room, their house, their home. He has to shake the thoughts of the past from his mind so as to not let them sour the present.

He knocks lightly on the walnut door, not wanting to wake Aster. Y/N appears, wearing pajamas, making Spencer’s cardigan and corduroys look very out of place.

“You came!” Y/N whisper-screams, dragging Spencer in by the hand excitedly, “Get in here, neighbor,”

The hallway entrance gives way to a cozy living room with cream colored walls and cherry wood hard floors. She could have only moved into her new place in the last month or so, but somehow she’s made it look like it’s been lived in for years.

“Well, I probably wasn’t going to get much sleep either,” Spencer says, whispering as he watches Y/N move about the room with a kind of energy that could only be described as intense, “Doesn’t look like you get much either,” he ventures, taking in the bright lights, discarded books, and flashing television.

“Nope,” she says, emphasizing the ‘p’ as she plops down on her sofa, “I haven’t slept well in a week,” she adds, carelessly mentioning the unmentionable.

“Stressed induced insomnia is cyclical in some. You’re stressed and anxious and then you can’t sleep. And the lack of sleep only furthers the extent of the insomnia,” Spencer says, so into his facts that he doesn’t even notice that their fingers are intertwined until he lowers his gaze.

His first thought, despite every ounce of his personal reservation, is that her hands look like they were made to be held. Spencer can’t remember the last time someone held his hand gently like this.

“I didn’t invite you over for you to rattle on about sleep deprivation,” Y/N says, her hand breaking from his to trail up his cardigan covered arm. The innocence of the touch long gone and replaced by something less so.

“What did you invite me over for then—”

Her mouth is on his and he can taste the bitter bite of red wine on her tongue. The red flag waves frantically in front of his eyes as Y/N starts moving towards his neck. Her lips dance down his skin, stinging him in its wake. He can feel his head cloud as Y/N’s hands thread in his hair.

“Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice hushed and fragile, “We can’t, Y/N. We can’t. You’re too drunk,”

She doesn’t say anything, but untangles her hands from his hair. Y/N rests her forehead against his. She refuses to meet his eyes, maybe in embarrassment or uncertainty he’s not sure. She’s so close Spencer wonders if he could get drunk from it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her eyes flickering up in a small moment of bravery.

“It’s okay,” Spencer says, understanding her pained voice in a familiarity that no one should recognize, “I understand, Y/N. I understand,” he whispers, placing a kiss on her forehead in what he hopes says more than his words ever could.

The silence in the living room rings in Spencer’s ears. He closes his eyes as he kisses her, preferring to not taste a drunken mistake on her lips.

“Will you stay?” she asks, “Please, I just— I can’t be alone anymore,”

Spencer’s heart can’t break anymore, but if it could she would have just annihilated him. Her eyes meet his in a look that only two broken hearts can truly understand. He nods in response, letting her lead him to her bedroom. His mind churns to thoughts the next all those days ago as the dark bedroom reminds him of his own.

Spencer lets her get comfortable in the bed, finding a space next to her. Y/N’s warm back molds perfectly into his front. He holds her close, wondering for himself as well if the skin to skin closeness will chase away the ghosts. It’s hard to tell though when you’re the ghost and your past is what’s chasing you.

“I see him when I sleep,” her bleakness bleeding out from the blankets, blinds him with reality. All he wants to do is run away from the ghostly girl in his dreams. The girl that smells like Rebecca, that moves like Rebecca, that loves him and holds him like Rebecca.

“It’s okay,” Spencer says, repeating his words and feeling like a broken record in more ways than one, “I see her too,”

“Does she love you like begged her too,” Y/N asks, drawing shapes on his skin, “it’s okay to pretend I’m her,”

If just closes his eyes, maybe he can smell her perfume. But all he can smell is lavender when she wore apple and cinnamon. The soft sheets hug his body, lulling him into a much needed sleep.

Her words shoot to kill, but only because they are true.

“Will you hate me if I pretend that you’re him?” she asks. Maybe he should have expected it. Maybe he should have seen it coming. He can run through all the maybes in his mind until it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.

“I could never hate you,” Spencer whispers, moving his arms as Y/N flips over in the bed. Their heads line inches apart, eyes looking anyway but forward.

He gives in first, knowing that it might be his Kryptonite, giving into people who will inevitably hurt him. And yet he’s left wondering if a part of him likes the sting of being shoved away. He knows that he can never hate her. But he wonders if he could ever love her.

And as he closes her eyes the only consolation is that the love affair maimed her too.

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

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Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 1

Previous: You Made Me

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing

Summary: Namjoon arrives in LA to begin the work he promised he would do.

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

Namjoon lays in his plane-bed, headphones blasting D-2, Daechwita, on a blind loop. The sky is dark, 30,000+ feet in the air, he knows he should be sleeping, resting at the bare minimum. But he can’t, melatonin not kicking in just yet, and his mind is too wired, filled with concerns.

Over a two months ago, after the reckoning, Namjoon put his plans into action. You can’t take managements King, and Queen, and bishops and rooks, without having a plan for total annihilation. Namjoon decided, though without much discussion with Jungkook, what they both needed. What would be the best for both of them, and the rest of Bangtan, was guarantees in their contracts that Bang and Co wouldn’t manipulate them anymore. No more calorie counting, no more extra pay for working out more, no more using Namjoon as a weapon against Jungkook or the others. To do this, Namjoon brought in other lawyers who negotiated with Bang’s team, and in the end the seven men amended their contracts. Gone were the clauses about who they could date, gone was the clause that they couldn’t date, period, gone was Run BTS and the trickery management went through to get the men to perform. They would have ownership of their work going forward, and ownership of their work all the way back to the first Love Yourself album.

Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin were shocked when their contracts were handed back, careful to read through the changes. They’d been floored, wondering how Namjoon and Jungkook’s brawl could’ve resulted in this swift change in their deals. Namjoon had put it simply: change or we sue. Big Hit knew that if BTS sued them, they’d take the house, the plastic plants in the lobby, the stock options and the futures of every person on the label. They had the option to lose everything, or to surrender, tails between their legs, to the gods that are BTS.

Namjoon knew that if this had happened three months prior, even two years, he wouldn’t have had the weight needed to push the deal through. But, in their decade plus at Big Hit, their level of power and influence, the fact that they had never signed NDA’s coupled with Namjoon’s intricate diaries, Namjoon recognized he had the power to take everything. Bang and Sejin were scared. They knew that they had a limited amount of time before BTS revolted, and if they were revolting with evidence, there was no possible solution that ended in Big Hit’s favor.

With their new contracts came one request from Bang, Sejin and the five other members of Bangtan, one request that was truly a demand: fix Jungkook and Namjoon.

Fixing Jungkook meant fixing Namjoon’s relationship to the maknae, which is how he finds himself flying across the globe to LA. Getting Jungkook help, away from prying eyes, was his idea. He and his love had brainstormed what would help Jungkook get through this, and this was the solution:

Jungkook would spend 3-6 months in LA undergoing rigorous outpatient therapy

Jungkook would be booked for exhaustion, body dysmorphia, alcoholism, and a host of other issues Namjoon could’ve spent his entire flight listing

Jungkook would rehearse in LA and fly back for specific stages but would otherwise record and work in LA while he went to therapy five days a week

Detox would come first, followed by a month of inpatient treatment

Then, Jungkook would be settled in his outpatient apartment, with a few Big Hit bodyguards around 24/7

Jungkook would have a sponsor in Korea and in the states, whom he reported to,

Jungkook is required to attend AA meetings twice a week for the first three months

Namjoon, would attend therapy twice a week in Korea,

Namjoon would fly to LA to spend a month going through treatment with Jungkook

To this, they signed their names, to the promise of something better, to the hope they would find common ground. Jungkook was packed and on a plane 48 hours later. The two men had some contact through music and through their group chat, but otherwise, Jungkook kept to himself. He loved LA, the sun, the ability to exercise outside every day of the week, the blue skies… There was a level of health that came with LA, and of course the seedy underbelly of diet culture, but for Jungkook, it was a welcome change. Everyone breathed in LA, they weren’t rushing to meet deadlines or get anywhere on time, they didn’t have the next five years planned on a detailed spreadsheet. LA was relaxed, it was breezy, and with its endless supply of green juice, it was the exact place Jungkook needed to be.

He diligently went to therapy, working exclusively with Dr. Aarons on the years of abuse he’d endured. Wrapping his mind around what had happened to him, not as love, not as building his character or strengthening his work ethic, but as a traumatic state of emotional abuse, was harder to swallow than two horse tranquilizers without water. Dr. Aarons gave him books and pamphlets on trauma and emotional abuse, which in his off hours, he read. His first month in treatment was spent in therapy sessions, a weekly Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) session, monitored exercise to help reteach him how to use his body, and reading to discuss. Some days felt like high school, or training days, when he was required to both train for debut and be a high school student. He hated it, hated studying, hated school, but to get better he had to do the work. All he could hope was at the end of this he’d feel better, maybe he'd be better too.

Dr. Aaron’s agreed, for the two men to make progress, to find common ground again, they needed to work through their Kilimanjaro sized problems.

A month into treatment, Jungkook was ready and willing to begin working on repairing his most treasured relationship.

“Namjoon, thank you for joining us here,” Dr. Aarons says, eyes darting between Jungkook, who was freshly showered and bouncing his leg up and down, and Namjoon, stoic, perched on the edge of his chair. Dr. Aarons can tell that Namjoon is less prepared than Jungkook, which is why she is in full control of this session.

“It’s, yeah, glad to be here,” Namjoon says, head bowing.

“I am first generation and am fluent in both English and Korean. My maiden name is Park,” Dr. Aarons smiles, letting Namjoon into her stratification of both cultures. “We can flow from English to Korean at any point.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon bows again.

“This first session is just to create a welcoming and safe space for Jungkook to see you again. Soon he will be off, and you and I will have a bit of time to talk. I have been in communication with your therapist back in Seoul, and he has given me his thoughts as well as points that we can continue to work on as a triad. Jungkook, is there something you wanted to say to Namjoon before you go?”

Jungkook looks at his brother, irises rising to meet his sun-twin. Namjoon’s eyes are tired, heavy, his lids weighty as he continues to battle some jetlag. Jungkook looks fucking fantastic, the sun and balanced eating working wonders on him.

“Thank you, hyung, for being here, and thank you for being willing to work on this with me. I still hold love for you in my heart, though I don’t have to. We’ve both fucked up. I am sorry for punching you, well, beating you up, and I hope you can forgive me, if not today, at some point. And again, thank you, hyung, for fighting for me,” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he utters his last words, eyes dropping to his hands.

“Jungkook, you did great,” Dr. Aarons reassures.

“Thank you, Jungkookie, for being, forgiving, for still wanting to speak to me, to work with me, it,” Namjoon clears his throat, that familiar lump forming. “I know I let you down. I will always be sorry,”

“I know, me too,”

“Jungkook, thank you for being here today. I will see you tomorrow for our first session as a group.” Dr. Aaron’s gave the go-ahead for Jungkook to leave, and he did swiftly, giving Namjoon the chance to confide in Dr. Aarons.

“Thank you, for doing this,” Namjoon spoke.

“This was your idea, correct? The therapy, detox, all of it?”

“Yes,” Namjoon feels the blood rush to his cheeks.

“From what I understand, you’re kind of a genius, right?”

“In music, I suppose,”

Reaching for her notepad, Dr. Aarons’ glances down. “Mm, I spoke with Dr. Cho,”

“Yes?”

“He was very insightful, gave me lots of great notes and things to discuss. I wanted to start by saying that I understand the levels of abuse you went through,” She raises her head to meet his unsteady gaze, clocking the flustered expression.

“Yes,”

“The manipulation, the invalidation, the pain. Namjoon, no one should have to experience all of that, and yet, here you are. You are strong, you are powerful, you are dedicated to your brothers. None of it excuses what you have done, but what I want to convey to you, is that a lot of your actions were not your fault.” Dr. Aarons’ runs through the list of compliments she had jotted down, notes of what to say to create a safe space for Namjoon.

“I, I know,”

“I know you do; I also know that isn’t how you see it.” Dr. Aarons’ sets her pen down and recrossed her legs, eyes never straying from him. She’s formidable, honored and esteemed throughout the community, domestically and abroad. Namjoon knew, he helped picked her, she was the reason Jungkook was here.

“I still did the actions,” Namjoon sighs, “I still followed through with the plan,”

“Yes, but the cost to you and your life was exquisite. You were a pawn,”

“Now I am the victor,” He mumbles.

“Tell me, Namjoon, how old did you feel when you and Jungkook fought?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungkook’s recounted his memory of that night, but how did you feel? In that moment when he hit you, what age specifically did you feel?”

He takes a moment to think, but the answer is in front of him immediately. “Fifteen,”

“What happened at 15?”

He shifts nervously, the rapid speed of his speech slowing as he spoke. “I was still being scouted by Big Hit, no contracts, just negotiations. My parents were, unsupportive.”

“Within the Seoul rap community, you were making a name for yourself,” Dr. Aarons’ didn’t have to be living in Korea at the time to know who he was, everyone in the first gen community who still had any ties back home knew. You couldn’t listen to music without his mixes coming through. “Yeah, but that only gets you so far. I was talking to Bang about these big plans for a super group, a group that combined rapping and pop, some bridge between the two and other genres… the places were going to go seemed endless.”

“How did you feel in those negotiations?”

Joon smiles. “I felt, ten feet tall. I mattered in those meetings,”

“And to your parents?” Dr. Aaron’s questions.

“I was just their high schooler, hormonal, with dreams bigger than my mind could hold. They, they didn’t want me to do it,”

“But you went for it,” She smiles gently.

“I did, yeah,” Namjoon, hates flattery. Call it his sun sensibility, his rays unable to shine under the humility of the grey cloud he kept above himself.

“What else happened around that time?” She presses.

Namjoon nods again, knowing exactly where she’s leading him. “That’s when I started receiving a lot of hate,”

“Mm, tell me about that,”

“Do I have to?” He asks, voice no longer strong and steady.

“Not if you don’t want to,” She replies.

“It’s just,” Namjoon sighs. “It still hurts.”

“I expect it to. The comments were very personal,”

“About how I look, about the shape of my nose, the sound of my voice, that I’ll never amount to anything and BTS is just, complete trash passing off as music.” He rattles off the ones that plague him, when self-doubt creeps in, the comments that still rise to the top of the pack.

“They escalated, didn’t they?”

“Don’t they always?”

She smiles softly, a precursor to the next blow. “Did you internalize them?”

“Yes,”

“When Jungkook hit you,” She starts.

“It was like every internet troll finally getting their chance to swing,” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to finish the thought.

“Ahh, there it is.” Dr. Aaron’s allows Namjoon a minute to sit in the realization. “What hurt the most? The physical pain, or the emotional weight you put behind it?”

“I haven’t thought about it like that,” He realizes.

“Well let’s think about it now,” Her voice is kind, leading him to the pasture but never feeding. No wonder everyone raved about her.

“It was the emotions,” He concedes.

“Can you describe what those emotions were?”

“Anger, frustration, inadequacy, disappointment, like I had just shattered the entire world I’d given every bit of myself to creating.”

“That wasn’t why Jungkook was hitting you, though,” Dr. Aarons’ informs him.

“It wasn’t?”

“You tell me, why would he be hitting you?”

“I,” Namjoon exhales, “I betrayed him.”

“Did you let him down?”

“Yes,”

“But did he view you as inadequate?” She pushes.

“No,” Namjoon whispers, voice caught between his vocal chords as the waves of tears start to gain on him.

Dr. Aarons’ smiles again, “No, has he ever?”

“No,” Namjoon shakes his head, hand wiping the tears that have fallen.

“It seems to me like it’s quite the opposite. Jungkook loves you, pure and simple.”

“I betrayed him,” Namjoon argues.

“Betrayal and inadequacy are often put together, at least in our minds. We betray someone, or a relationship, because it’s either not enough for us, or because it’s too much. The dissonance between you and Jungkook is that his anger is misplaced, he can claw at you because you are there, you are present, you are with him every day. He’s shooting the messenger, but you didn’t write the messages, Namjoon.”

“I don’t know if he understands that,”

“There’s only so much I can do to separate what he feels towards you, and what he realizes isn’t your fault. In our time together, as a trio, we will hopefully work towards understanding these complexities within your relationship. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds good,”

“Great! I don’t have any work for you, other than, well, a major piece of homework,”

“Bring it on,” Namjoon loves work. Pure and simple.

“You can’t have dinner with Jungkook tonight, or engage with him in a private setting,” Dr. Aarons’ instructs.

“Makes sense,” Namjoon agrees.

“We’ll begin work on it tomorrow, but until then, you have to stay apart,”

“I can do that, we’re staying in separate places,”

“Great, Namjoon, I am really looking forward to working with you,” Dr. Aarons stands. “I hope you enjoy your day in LA,”

“See you tomorrow,” Namjoon smiles gratefully before exiting her office, his phone at the ready, texts from Yoongi and Hoseok, Taehyung and the rest of Bangtan to check in on him. And then there’s the text from his love, who as he steps into the sun, is waiting for him.

“Joon of my eye, what a pleasure it is to see you,”

Though the smile is clearly plastered across his face, it’s the way his arms circle your waist, head nuzzling into your neck, lips pressing firmly to your skin.

“I fucking missed you,” He mutters.

“You’re being so affectionate, in public,”

“No one’s here,” Namjoon says, head still resting against your shoulder.

“That eye opening, huh?” Your hands move up and down his back, the comfort radiating from your familiar embrace.

“Mm, can we go?” He asks, standing to his full height.

“To your place?”

“Anywhere,” He slips his sunglasses over his eyes, the mist beginning to cloud his vision.

“Of course,” You respond, hand finding his, fingers intertwining. With his baseball cap pulled low on his head, Namjoon is barely recognizable. He doesn’t hesitate to move his free hand across your shoulders, holding onto you as you guide him to your rental car. He might’ve been the messenger of Bang’s threats and manipulations, but a pawn is still a pawn. Namjoon had taken the board in his game against Big Hit, but in Jungkook’s universe, under Jungkook’s rules, he’s still a piece in motion.

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2

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junerecords · 6 years

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June Records 2018 Record Store Day List

Here’s a list of the RSD titles that we ordered this year. As always, there are no guarantees on what we will receive and everything is first come, first served, one copy per customer. We will be open from 11am-8pm. See you on the 21st - happy hunting! -June Records Staff Aaliyah - Back & Forth (12”) Arcade Fire - Arcade Fire (EP) Air - Sexy Boy (Picture Disc) Anti-Cimex - Anti-Cimex (LP) David Axelrod - Songs Of Innocence Courtney Barnett - City Looks Pretty & Sunday Roast (12”) Courtney Barnett - The Double EP: A Sea Of Split Peas (Pic Disk) Chris Bell - I Am The Cosmos (7”) The Beginning Of The End - Fishman (12”) David Bowie - Let’s Dance (Full-Length Demo 12”) David Bowie - Now (LP) David Bowie - Welcome To The Blackout (Live In London 1978 3LP) Jeff Buckley - Live At Sin-e (LP) Cam’ron - Purple Haze (2LP) Car Seat Headrest - Twin Fantasy (Mirror To Mirror) (2LP) Eric Clapton - Complete Clapton (4LP) Gene Clark - Back Street Mirror (LP) Oliver Coates - John Luther Adams’ Canticles In The Sky (LP) Willie Colon - Wanted By The FBI/The Big Break - La Gran Fuga (LP) Compton’s Most Wanted - Music To DriveBy (2LP) The Cure - Mixed Up (LP) The Cure - Torn Down: Mixed Up Extras (LP) Cymande - Promised Heights (LP) Cymande - Second Time Round (LP) The Dap Kings: A Closer Looks: The Instrumentals For Saun & Starr (LP) Miles Davis - Rubberband (12”) Mac Demarco & Shamir - Beat Happening Covers (7”) Mac Demarco - Old Dog Demos (LP) Bo Diddley - 16 All-Time Greatest Hits (LP) Dr. Dre - Dre Day (12”) Durutti Column - Another Setting (LP) Bob Dylan & The Grateful Dead - Dylan & The Dead (LP) Easybeats - Lovin’ Machine (EP) Brian Eno w/ Kevin Shields - Weight Of History (12”) ESG - Come Away With ESG (LP) Ella Fitzgerald - Ella At Zardi’s (2LP) Five Day Week Straw People - Five Day Week Straw People (LP) Flaming Lips - Pouring Beer In Your Ear (7”) Fleet Foxes - Crack Up (Choral Version 7”) Fleetwood Mac - Tango In The Night Alternate (LP) Maqrvin Gaye - Let’s Get It On (Red LP) Goat - Double Date Score (10”) Gershon Kingsley - Gershon Kingsley & The Moog (12” EP) Robert Glasper - ArtScience Remixes (LP) Grateful Dead - Fillmore West San Francisco (4LP) Grant Green - Funk In France: Paris To Antibes (1969-1970) (3LP) Grant Green - Slick! Live At Oil Can Harry’s (2LP) Johnny Greenwood - Phantom Thread OST (LP) Groundhogs - Scratching The Surface (LP) Hawkwind - Dark Matter (The Alternative Liberty / U.A. Years 1970-74) (2LP) Tim Hardin - Lost In L.A. (LP) Jimi Hendrix - Mannish Boy (7”) J Dilla - Ruff Draft: Dilla’s Mix (2LP) Michael Kiwanuka - Out Loud (12”) L7- Fast & Frightening (2LP) Laraaji - Sun Transformations (LP) Led Zeppelin - Rock N’ Roll (7”) Lil Uzi Vert - Luv Is Rage (LP) Lil Uzi Vert - The Perfect Luv Tape (LP) Madonna - The First Album (Japanese Reissue Picture Disc LP) Madonna - You Can Dance (1987 Remix EP) Marduk - Dark Endless (LP) Marijata - Pat Thomas Introduces Marijata (LP) MC5 - I Can Only Give You Everything / I Just Don’t Know (7”) MC5 - Looking At You / Borderline (7”) Messengers Incorporated - Soulful Proclamation (LP) Miguel - War & Leisure (2LP) Thelonioius Monk - Monk. (LP) Kevin Morby / Waxahatchee - Farewell Transmission b/w Dark Don’t Hide It (7”) Motorhead - Death Or Glory aka Bastards (LP) Motorhead - Heroes (Picture Disc 7”) Van Morrison - Midnight Special: The Bang Records Sessions (2LP) National - The Boxer: Live In Brussels (LP) Molly Nilsson - These Things Take Time (2LP) Doris Norton - Norton Computer For Peace (LP) Doris Norton - Personal Computer (LP) Notorious B.I.G. - Juicy (12”) N.S.U. - Turn On, Or Turn Me Down (LP) The Open Mind - The Open Mind (LP + 7”) Parquet Courts - Mardi Gras Beads / Seems Kinda Silly (7”) Phish - Billy Breathes (2LP) Pink Floyd - The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn (Mono LP) Prince - 1999 (Single LP Version) Ramones - Sundragon Sessions (LP) Rapsody - The Idea Of Beautiful (2LP) Rockabye Baby - Lullabye Renditions Of The Beastie Boys (LP) Redd Kross - Third Eye (LP) Residents - The W****** B*** Album (LP) Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock - It Takes Two (30th Anniversary LP) Rolling Stones - Their Satanic Majesty’s Request (Mono LP) Daniel Rossen - Deerslayer (LP) Run The Jewels - Stay Gold (Collector’s Edition LP) Antonio Sanches - Buli Povo! (LP) Lalo Schifrin - Enter the Dragon (LP) Nina Simone - Best Of (LP) Shocking Blue - Singles Collection (2LP) Snatch - Snatch (LP) Soundgarden - A-Sides (2LP) Spacemen 3 - Taking Drugs To Make Music To Take Drugs To (2LP) Melvin Sparks - Texas Twister (LP) Spiritualized - Fucked Up Inside (LP) Bruce Springsteen - Greatest Hits (2LP) The Stooges - The Stooges (Detroit Edition LP) The Streets - Remixes & B-Sides (LP) Sun Ra - Astro Black (LP) Sun Ra - The Cymbals / Symbols Sessions: NYC 1973 (2LP) Taylor Swift - 1989 (2LP) Taylor Swift - Taylor Swift (2LP) Taylor Swift - Fearless (2LP) Tangerine Dream - Zeit (2LP) Tears For Fears - Head Over Heels (12” EP) Johnny Thunders - So Alonesome (LP) Too $hort - Short Dog’s In The House (LP) Uncle Tupelo - No Depression Rarities (LP) Sam Weymon - Ganja & Hess (1973 OST LP) Various Artists - The American Dreamer (OST LP) Various Artists - Pornosonic: Unreleased 70s Porn Music Ft. Ron Jeremy (LP) Various Artists - Death Row Chronicles (2LP) Various Artists - Electroconvulsive Therapy Volume 4: The Art of Survival Records (LP) Various Artists - Hillbillies In Hell: Volume 666 (Country Music's Tormented Testament: 1952-1974) (LP) Various Artists - Planet Terror OST (LP) Various Artists - Powell Peralta: the Search For Animal Chin (2LP) Various Artists - Star Wars: Last Jedi (Die-Cut Pic Disc) Various Artists - The Beginning Of The End: The Existential Psychodrama In Country Music (1956-1974) (LP) Various Artists - The Other Side Of Italy: The Beginning of The Post-Punk and Art-Rock Era (4LP+CD) Tom Waits - Brawlers (2LP) Tom Waits - Bawlers (2LP) Tom Waits - Bastards (2LP) The Who - The Kids Are Alright (LP) Wilco - Live at The Troubadour 11/12/96 (2LP) Wu-Tang - Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (Cassette) Neil Young - Tonight’s The Night: Live At The Roxy (2LP) Frank Zappa - Lumpy Gravy (45rpm LP)

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omgmaximumcollectionstudent-blog · 7 years

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Celiac Illness

It's one Taylor Swift quote that Khoudia Diop can associate with. The 19-year-old trainee and also version from Senegal matured getting teased as well as picked on as a result of the darkness of her skin, inning accordance with meetings she's offered to the Huffington Article and the Daily Mail However somehow, she handled to welcome her difference as opposed to changing her appearance to really feel more approved. After dealing with serious bouts of flaky as well as completely dry skin this winter, we asked Dr. Heather Woolery-Lloyd, the founder of Details Beauty skincare, and also Dr. Heidi Waldorf, the supervisor of laser as well as cosmetic dermatology at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New york city City, to break down the five most common bathing errors. Diuretics prescribed for hypertension, antihistamines recommended for allergies, as well as retinoids prescribed for acne are all instances of drugs that could dry out the skin. So, if you want to eliminate your brownish areas for a crystal clear skin, see your aesthetician or dermatologist four months prior to your wedding for Intense Pulse Light (IPL) Photofacial therapies for an extra even complexion, states Jolie Martin skin specialist and also lead aesthetician at Skinney MedSpa + Health Likewise, consultations have to be made four weeks besides each other, so obtaining your first one 4 months out will certainly provide you adequate time if you require extra sessions. It enhances the body's collagen, which is required for youthful, radiant skin and also is a powerful anti-aging compound. Stern, RS. Occurrence of a history of skin cancer cells in 2007: results of an incidence-based version. But researchers from the College of Manchester have actually found that even natural oils used for infant massage therapy can harm the safety obstacle in babies' fragile skin. Simple Kind To Skin Deep Cleansing Face Mask is a best mix of energetic components and also vitamin goodness to extract deep dirt and also eliminate dead cells. It's fantastic for day-to-day usage, getting rid of chlorine from swimming pools, and also getting out hair products or cruds (I make my own milk-plastic hair adhesive). The bright side: Your skin is drier, so you're less most likely to deal with unpleasant outbreaks. A healthy way of life, consisting of a healthy and balanced diet regimen and also regular exercise, is one of the most essential way to decrease the formation of blemishes and also creases. Apply a touch of mild cleanser (such as Neutrogena odorless or infant shampoo) to the compress and utilize it to delicately clean the eyelids. Vitamin E likewise lowers the results of sun direct exposure on the skin and also can aid protect against skin cancer cells, says Kotsopoulos. If fexofenadine may connect with various other medicines that you take, ask your wellness care carrier. \ http://crypteslabeaute.info/ is released simultaneously in Medicine & Scientific research in Sports & Workout and Diabetic issues Care. Of lycopene, an antioxidant discovered in tomatoes that is touted as a protection against prostate cancer cells. If you have a minor microbial infection, ask your physician if an antibiotic is actually needed and if a natural option might work. We consulted our viewers' unbiased evaluations to assemble this listing of the top-rated natural hair masks and deep conditioners on the market. I like that for just ₤ 10 you're getting 2 products in one, and even though both products are readily available for purchase individually, having both items combined works quite well and also is extremely handy! THEY SAY: Specifically created to offer both surface area lifting activity and also thorough repair work activity, the array continually presses back the all-natural chronological aging procedure, correcting damage created to the dermis prior to wrinkles appear. Cleaning oils (compared with a gel or cream you are utilized to lathering up with!) are http://crypteslabeaute.info/ for good reason. Aloe is hydrating however does n`t give skin a greasy feeling, so it' s ideal for any person with an oily skin. Depigmenting lotions, solutions, as well as lotions are widely readily available as cosmetic preparations in several local markets as well as shops, as well as in a research study in Dakar, Senegal, more than 50 percent of ladies wondered about specified that they were on a regular basis using lightening creams ranging from hydroquinones to corticosteroids (Mahé and also others 2003 ). Hydroquinones are potentially harmful to the skin as well as with continual use cause patchy increased coloring and also scarring of the facial skin.

As she gathered her vital she then took her situation up so that she might change from her cozy jeans as well as shirt into shorts as well as a strappy t-shirt, which was such a welcome alleviation in the warm of the Greek sun.Moving from the resort to keep her visit with her sis, she got numerous admiring appearances from the Greek guys that talked gently to her as they evaluated her figure with satisfied eyes, seeing her firm busts, slim waistline and flat tummy flaring out to broader hips as well as best base. Utilizing a slaughterhouse to resemble the reducing Camille practices on herself, and also possibly some other horrors also, could have been a bit heavy-handed, yet fine, ok. Having Camille carve words right into her skin most definitely seems over the top to me, a little bit of literary permit, yet fine, ok. I delighted in the enjoyable noir twang with which Flynn begins her story, but it seemed to discolor rather a great deal during 254 pages. The post-it note on the file stated No African American to care for Davis Bauer" - Ruth was the only African American registered nurse on the ward. Zinc assists your skin heal, and also it also aids your body use crucial fatty acids.

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mrjeremydylan · 7 years

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Happy Birthday John Lennon! Robyn Hitchcock on ‘Plastic Ono Band’

To celebrate St Lennon’s Day, I’m revisiting my conversation with British polka-dot enthusiast and iconoclast Robyn Hitchcock on ‘Plastic Ono Band’ - Enjoy!

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Traveler through space and time, British cult icon and legendary singer-songwriter Robyn Hitchcock steers his ship into the podbooth this week, for a chat with host Jeremy Dylan about John Lennon’s emotionally confronting classic 1970 album “Plastic Ono Band”.

Along the way, they talk about why Robyn identified with Lennon as a kid, Lennon’s antipathy toward his Beatles music, the possible influence of Bob Dylan’s “John Wesley Harding” album, John and Yoko’s primal scream therapy and which Robyn Hitchcock song borrows its arrangement from a Plastic Ono Band tune.

Listen in the player above or download the episode by clicking here.

Subscribe to the podcast in iTunes here or in other podcasting apps by copying/pasting our RSS feed - http://myfavoritealbum.libsyn.com/rss

My Favorite Album is a podcast on the impact great music has on our lives. Each episode features a guest on their favorite album of all time - why they love it, their history with the album and how it’s influenced them. Jeremy Dylan is a filmmaker, journalist and photographer. He directed the the feature music documentary Jim Lauderdale: The King of Broken Hearts (out now!) and the film Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins.

If you’ve got any feedback or suggestions, drop us a line at [email protected].

LINKS - Buy our album of the episode on iTunes here.

- Robyn Hitchcock’s website, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook page and on iTunes.

- Jeremy Dylan’s website, Twitter, Instagram and Facebook page.

- Like the podcast on Facebook here.

- If you dig the show, please leave a rating or review of the show on iTunes here.

CHECK OUT OUR OTHER EPISODES

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#podcast #john lennon #beatles #phil spector #yoko #robyn hitchcock #soft boys #happy birthday

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