#but aside fm that she and the guy....Nice

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 11

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  smut (FM, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count:   3557

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 11

Road trips were a make-or-break test for relationships, right up there with unplanned pregnancies and trips to Ikea.  For Melody and Steve, it had felt like a breeze.  Steve had taken the role of driver and despite being a little fast and loose with the speed limit, he’d stopped at various roadside stores to buy preserves, maple candy, and apple cider donuts.  Halfway there they’d stopped at a tavern for lunch, filling up on burgers, fries, and house-made cider before hitting the road again.  The fall foliage was in full form, and the whole trip was colored in reds, oranges, and golds.

By the time they arrived at the large colonial mansion bed and breakfast, Melody was ready to stretch out, relax, and enjoy her weekend with Steve.  They were shown up to their room in the mansion’s tower and Melody stretched out on the fourposter, bed picking at some leftover donuts, while Steve unpacked.

“So what’s the plan for the weekend,” she asked. “I mean - aside from the romantic setting for our -” she made a circle with her thumb and index finger on one hand and poked her finger in and out of it.

He started laughing as he watched her. “Oh good lord,” he joked.  “Did I make a mistake?”

She laughed with him, falling back on the mattress.  “But seriously?  Are we just going to stay inside all weekend?  Or did you want to go do things?  Antiquing maybe?  Or as you might like to call it - buying era-appropriate items.”

Steve looked at her, trying not to laugh.  “Oh that’s it!” he said and ran over, jumping on top of her and tickling her sides.  She squealed and writhed under him as his fingers moved on her sides.

“Steve!” she squealed.  “Stop!”

His hands slowed and he leaned in, capturing her lips.  What started as frantic and silly tickling, quickly turned into a slow and deep makeout session.  Steve’s hands moved up her sides and she ran one of hers into his hair.  Her body practically vibrated in anticipation under him, like an electrical current ran under her skin.

He pulled back slowly and smiled at her.  “I actually wouldn’t mind going antiquing.  I lost everything from back then and it would be nice to have some things in my house that remind me of my mother, even if they aren’t hers.  But I’d also like to find a drafting table. And I like antique radios.”

“Really?” Melody asked, putting her hands on his chest and guiding him off her so she could sit up.

“Yeah,” he said.  “They’re just - I like how they look.  And I guess they probably remind me of being young and sitting on the fire escape with Bucky listening to the baseball.”

“Then let’s do it,” she said.  “I can’t really afford antiques, but you never know, maybe I’ll find a gem while we’re out.”

He pecked her lips and stood back up.  “It’s fun to just look, and honestly I’m just looking forward to having a slow weekend with you.  I don’t take a lot of time for myself.”

“Mmm… me either,” Melody agreed.  “Though no one works as hard as Bobbi does.  I don’t care who it is.”

“Yeah, Bucky said that it’s hard to lock her down,” Steve said as he went back to unpacking.  He stopped and looked at her, grimacing slightly.  “She does like him, doesn’t she?”

“Oh yeah,” Melody said quickly.  She felt guilty on behalf of her cousin.  Not that Bobbi could help that she was busy or that she was nervous about coming out as trans to a guy she was really into, but Melody knew that Bucky had his own demons and that feeling of being not enough would hit him particularly hard.  “She is super into him.”

She paused.  Now would be the perfect time to bring up the topic with Steve and test the water about whether Bucky would be accepting of the fact that the woman he was seeing was trans.  She missed her chance though, because Steve seemed so relieved that Bobbi was definitely into Bucky he was talking again.

“Phew,” he said, doing an elaborate wipe of his brow.  “He’ll be happy to know that.  I really want them to work out, I’d hate for things to be awkward if we stay together and they break up.  We should go on a double date with them when we get back.  Hey, if you know anyone for Sam, maybe we can go on a triple date.”

Melody laughed.  It was unusual to get to see that kind of rambling relief in Steve.  He was obviously as invested in the whole Bucky and Bobbi situation as Melody was.  “Hmm… I might,” she said, going through the list of names of people she knew in New York that might be well-matched to the Sam Wilson.  “Is he into men? Women? Gender is a construct that serves as no indicator of his attraction to a person?”

Steve raised his eyebrow.  “Ahh… you know what?  I don’t know.  I’ve never known him to date anyone.  I’ll ask.”

“I bet when you ask, he’ll just try and duck the question so he doesn’t get set up with a stranger,” Melody teased.

Steve laughed.  “That’s likely true.” He paused for a moment as he put his jacket on a hanger.  “I liked that about gender being a construct.  I’ve never really thought about it too much before, but I think that’s me.”

“Yeah?” Melody said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.  “Have you ever dated a man or someone off the binary?”

He shook his head.  “No.  But to be fair, I can count how many people I have dated on one hand.”

“I’m the same in case you’re wondering.  And I’ve been out with a spectrum.  People are probably more open to questioning their gender these days than back when you grew up,” she said.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s very true.  I like that that’s the world we live in these days.  It definitely didn’t feel safe to question things back then,” he said.

“Do you think you would have - questioned things if you had the space to?” Melody asked.

He came over and sat down beside her, furrowing his brow.  “I - I don’t think so.  If anything I was always pretty intent on proving that I was a man.  I found it hard not being as masculine as others thought I should be - or even I thought I should be.  I felt more at home in my body after I had the serum.  Like it reflected who I saw myself as.”

She took his hand and played with his fingers, tracing along them with her fingertips.  His hands dwarfed hers and she pressed her palm against his, looking at the difference in size as she thought.  “I have a question - and I’m not sure how to phrase it.”

Steve looked at her with his head tilted.  “Then it might be best not to worry about how it sounds and just say it.”

She took a deep breath.  “Bobbi’s taking things slowly with Bucky.  Partially it’s just because of work.  She is super busy with work.  She works seven days a week, and sometimes she’ll finish one job and go right to the next one.  Partially it’s because of Bucky.  She knows he’s been through hell and she wants to make sure he feels safe with her.”

“That’s really good.  I mean I know he wishes she had more free time, but I’m glad he’s seeing someone who’s letting him figure things out.  This is the first time he’s been interested in anyone since - well…” Steve explained.

She nodded in understanding.  “I get it,” she said.  “There is more though.  And I brought this up because she asked me to.  She might not seem it, but she's vulnerable and a little scared.  The thing is, Bobbi’s trans.  She likes Bucky a lot, but she's had guys show interest in her before and when they've found out, they've gotten violent with her.  I offered to run all this by you.  You know Bucky better than anyone, if he finds this out - is she safe?”

Steve stared at her in shock.  “Wow.  I had no idea,” he said.  “I - uh - I’m sure she's safe.  I couldn't imagine Bucky being so insecure about that, he'd attack someone.  Plus, he does really like her, he wouldn't hurt someone he liked.  If you wanted to know if it was a deal-breaker for him - I wish I could firmly say it wasn't, but I don't know.  That's not something we've ever spoken about.”

“Yeah, sadly we live in a world where you can never know even if people do talk about it,” she agreed.

“I can ask him or gently let him know…”

Melody shook her head emphatically.  “Please don't.  She'll want to do it herself even if he does reject her.  She just wanted to make sure she was safe first.”

“I am sure she'd be safe with him.  I'm sure of it,” he said.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He took a deep breath and clapped his hands on his thighs.  “Well, after all that, I think I want to get in the shower and wash the road off me,” he said, standing up.

Melody hooked her finger in his back pocket and tugged on it.  “Want some company?”

He looked surprised at the suggestion, and his eyes flicked from the bathroom door down to Melody. “Sure.  That would be nice.”

She followed him into the bathroom and the two stripped down.  It was the first time they’d seen each other naked, and as the water warmed they took a moment to appreciate each other.  Melody’s eyes slid up and down Steve’s body.  She had always known he was bigger than her but there was something about seeing him naked while she was exposed too, that seemed to highlight just how much bigger than her he was.  His skin was flawless, not a single line or pore marked him.  It was like he was carved from marble and if Melody didn’t know from experience, she would have thought he’d be hard to the touch.  He was muscular in a way that most men needed to be dehydrated to achieve and his body hair was fine and blond.

It was his cock that held her attention.  Even in its flaccid state, it was intimidatingly large.  He was uncut, just like he said, and a thick vein stood out, running right down the shaft.  It was a little intimidating and she worried that when he was hard, he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside her.

“Come on,” Steve said, offering her his hand.  She took it and let him lead her into the warm water. 

He grabbed the washcloth, squeezed shower gel onto it, and began to slowly and tenderly wash down her body.  She relaxed under the warm water, letting herself just enjoy the gentle touch of this perfect man.  He crouched in front of her and ran the cloth down the sides of her legs and up between them.  She shivered slightly, and wetness formed between her legs that had nothing to do with the water that was cascading down over her body.

When he finished, he stood, and she took the cloth from him, washing him as he had just washed her. 

She carefully trailed the washcloth over his body, and as she did, his cock began to harden.  It twitched and jumped as her hands moved closer to it and she looked up at Steve, meeting his gaze.  His normally pale blue eyes were blown out black with lust, and as her fingertips ever so gently teased down his shaft, he gave a small nod.

Taking it as permission, she dropped to her knees and braced her hands on his hips.  He still wasn’t fully hard yet, but up close she was even more intimidated by the size of him.  She flattened her tongue and slowly ran it up the length of his shaft.  He groaned and braced his hands on the shower wall, letting her take complete control.  Her lips stretched wide as she began to suckle on the head, and licked over it, collecting up a drop of precome that had formed on the head.  

“God, look at you,” Steve groaned.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she pushed her head down, his cock filling her mouth as she forced him down.  She wanted to take as much of him as possible but it felt like she’d barely even made it down his shaft before the head of his cock seemed to be pressing up against the back of her throat and making her gag.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Steve praised, his eyes still trained on hers.

She didn’t want to go easy. She wanted to test all her limits with him, she kept pushing him down further with each bob of her head.  Drool pooled in her mouth and dripped down her chin as she choked on his cock.  The deeper she took him the louder he moaned, until the sound of it and the wet choked noise of her deep-throating him.  She used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, his shaft was so thick her fingers couldn’t even touch when she wrapped her hand around it.

“God, Mel.  ‘M close,” he moaned.

Melody pushed him down deep, cutting off her oxygen, and looked up at him with soft eyes.  He groaned louder and his thigh muscles tightened and with a shudder he came, pulsing in her mouth.  She swallowed everything she gave him, the tart salting fluid filling her mouth.

She slowly pulled off and Steve took a moment to gather himself, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.  When he seemed to recover a little, he helped her to her feet and crouched in front of her.  He nosed at her cunt as she tangled his finger in his hair.  Without warning, he lifted her, putting both her legs on his shoulders, as he stood with his face buried in her folds.  She gasped and leaned back on the shower wall, bracing herself with her hands and gripping the top of the shower to steady herself. Steve lapped and sucked at her pussy, seeming to pay close attention to every shiver and sounds she made.  Each time she moaned he focused on the point that set her off, until he was focused directly on her clit, suckling at it and running his tongue over the top.  She had never felt anything like it.  He seemed to be so intune with her body, that every flick of his tongue sends a current right through her.  That paired with the adrenaline surging through her from being held aloft, was making her feel weak, lightheaded, and like every one of her nerves was lit up.

Heat coiled in her stomach like a snake, and then burst through her, taking hold of her whole body, she cried out and dug her heels into Steve’s shoulders as her orgasm crashed through her.  Steve continued to lick her through it like he was trying to drink her up.  As her body settled, he helped her down again and helped her rinse off. 

He shut off the water and as soon as they each had a towel wrapped around them, Steve lifted her bridal style.

“Steve!” she yelped as he carried her back into the bedroom.

He chuckled and set her on the bed.  “Did you want to stop?”

She shook her head.  “Not on your life.”

His eyes twinkled and he leaned down, his face held just in front of hers. “I thought you would say that,” he said and brought his lips to hers.  She kissed back passionately, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and trying to pull him down on top of her.

“Just give me a second,” he whispered against her lips.

She let him go and he went and grabbed a condom and lube.  He rolled the rubbed down over his cock, and approached her again, liberally coating his shaft with the thick gel.  Melody watched him closely.  Her eyes were locked on his cock again, and she started to worry about being able to take him again, or him hurting her without meaning to.

He climbed up between her legs and kissed her stomach.  “Just relax,” he soothed as he pushed two fingers inside of her.  He curled them, stroking them over her internal walls, and teasing them over her g-spot.  With the added lubrication on top of how wet she already was, his fingers made a graphic squelch as he moved them inside her and focused on that sweet spot inside her.  Melody had only really just come down from her orgasm, and another was quickly building again, making her legs tremble and her thigh muscles pull tight.

“Oh, god, Steve, please,” she begged.

“Hold it,” he growled.

She looked up at him, startled by the deep growl in the order.  He was watching her closely and he eased a third finger inside her.  He moved them in and out curled them as he corkscrewed his wrist, dragging his knuckles over her g-spot.  She cried out and bucked up under him, her back arching off the bed.

“How does that feel?” he asked, as he spread his fingers, adding a burn to the full feeling of his fingers inside her.

“Fuck, so good, Steve, please,” she begged.

“I’m no bigger than that,” he said, removing his fingers.  “You can relax.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

She was so worked up, that she didn’t even care if it did hurt anymore.  She just wanted to feel him inside her.  She sat up, wrapped her arms around his shoulder, and pulled him down on top of her, kissing his neck as she did.  “Please, Steve.  I need it.”

He took one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around his cock as he lined the head up to her entrance.  “You’re in control,” he said, as he looked into her eyes.  “Guide me in.”

She moaned softly, and her cunt clenched around nothing.  “Okay,” she breathed.

He slowly pushed in, letting her guide him, setting both the pace and depth.  Her eyes fell closed and her head fell back.  There was the burn at her entrance as he stretched her open, but it didn’t feel bad exactly, and he was going so slowly it allowed her to adjust to him.

He reached a spot inside her where there was a sharp sting and she stopped him and pushed him back slightly, easing it off again.  “There?” he asked

She nodded.  “Yes.  No more than that.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

She knew he did.  She trusted him completely.  She knew she was safe with him. Not just here in bed, but everywhere.  He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner.  Her hands went to his jaw and she pulled him down into a kiss as he began to thrust.

He kept alternating the speed of his thrusts, going from a gentle pleasant rhythm where Melody could feel the way his cock moved along the ridges of his cunt, to just pounding into her, so all that she could do was hold on and hope she didn’t break apart.  It was like nothing she had ever experienced before and just when she thought that there was nothing she would ever experience that could ever make her feel this good again, he started to rub her clit.

It sent her tumbling over the edge.  Her orgasm tore through her like wildfire, setting her alight.  She cried out and clung to Steve as her hips bucked up hard under him.  “Oh fuck, Steve,” he mewled as he continued to thrust into her.  “Please.  I want to feel you.”

He pressed his face into her neck as his hips began to stutter.  She tangled her fingers into his hair, holding him there as she felt the pulse of his cock as he neared his release.  With a deep moan, his hips jerked, and he came inside her.

She hummed and held him as his hips slowed.  She felt slightly high and overstimulated.  When Steve finally slipped from her, it was a relief, and yet she felt achingly empty and wanted him inside her again.  He rolled onto his back, and she curled in against him, putting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him.  “Holy hell, Steve,” she sighed.  “That was worth the wait.”

He chuckled. “Thank you,” he said. “I think so too.”

“I know we haven’t eaten yet, but I feel like I need a nap and a cigarette after that, and I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life.”

He laughed harder and kissed her.  “Let’s just relax for a bit.  There’s time before we have to decide if we go out to eat.”

She hummed and closed her eyes as Steve took off the used condom and tossed it in the trash.  The weekend away was off to the best of starts and she knew she was going to enjoy the rest of it.

// NEXT

[omegaremix]

Rosie’s Vintage shopping list, 2018.

Two more stops to go before the music shopping spree is history. Whatever locations are on the list seems to be further away each time. Today’s theme is the record annex which is picking up on Long Island. It started a year-and-a-half ago when Hideaway Vinyl set shop in Rosie’s Vintage in Huntington. Looks like they have an online presence still despite nothing being updated in a few months, so why not take the trip to see what it’s all about?

It’s been quite a while since being in Huntington. I do have some personal history there. My ex- Yenny brought me over to work there (our second job working together) for several years and it’s where she used to live. And let’s try to forget a dreaded miserable summer post-rain day out with former friend and staffer Molina, who took me through a cemetery, burger place, and an isolated park in an attempt to get close to me. No dice.

I walk in to Rosie’s and it’s bonafide vintage. Looks like the owners took over a small Fifties-style house in white-bread suburbia. Walk in and you’ll certainly feel the loud creaking of the all-wood floors. Its’ living room, dens, bedrooms, and many closets are filled with tons of kitsch, knick-knacks, and collectibles from the mid-century. Street signs, old threads, compasses, jewelry, board games, wardrobes, dolls, salt-shakers…I can go on. There’s many stories and tales to be told by each and every object that survived its’ era; all neatly organized, piled, and sorted. As an added touch, there’s the classics played on the overheads. Collections were posted on its page and testimonials from its customers recall their purchases: old vials and medicine jars, pill and spice tins, matchbook collections, sports pennants, dishes, and the occasional naughty glassware. I can still go on if you want me to.

The guy behind the register greets me and asks what he could do for me. I’m here for Hideaway Vinyl, I say. He tells me that they left shop a few months ago. Could’ve fooled me. They no longer exist. They’re still present online on social media but it all made sense why the lack of updates. Had Hideaway stayed, there’d be a presence of punk, hardcore, surf, ska, and rockabilly. He did show me where all the vinyl is now deposited by Vinyl Paradise. Remember them? There were twelve shelves top and bottom of pre-owned vinyl, four of the same across from those bins of newly-pressed and Record Store Day releases. 

Of the first twelve were plenty of rock, pop, dance, and 12″ dee-jay singles most for $10.00 and less with the occasional new hardcore pressing. I found a lot of 12″ hip-hop and dance singles; Nice & Wild and Harold Faltermeyer were two hits New York’s Z100 played growing up during my single-digit Eighties youth. Everything else in Shabba Ranks, Mad Skillz, Boogiemonsters, and Blahzay Blahzay were all summer hits going to Brentwood. WBLS, Hot 97, and Kiss FM played them all. As always, there’s the pop-rock quotient from Genesis and Dire Straits. Hello, nice to meet you again. Also relieved to find was the complete Malcomb McLaren & The World Famous Supreme Team’s “Buffalo Gals” in a die-cut label sleeve.

In comes Thea, co-owner of Rosie’s Vintage in her rockabilly / Rosie The Riveter motif. She says hello and sees the stack in my hand. She offers to put it aside for me which I obliged. I kindly ask if there would be more vinyl and does tell me there might be some upstairs. That’s where I’m going. Heading up is possibly one of the steepest set of steps I experienced walking. I also had to dodge a heavy-set punk couple decked with gauges, tattoos, low-cut tank tops and tees coming from downstairs. I walk up and there’s a closet with a secret crate of records on the floor containing The Talking Heads’ 77 for $20.00 and its’ sister Tom Tom Club’s Close To The Bone for $15.00. Shucks. I scour the upstairs to find many more antiques. Compasses, typewriters, old magazines, books, brochures in one room with very little traces of 7″ records in one crate. The kitchen was full of dishes, glasses, and silverware stacked in the sink and on its’ counter but no records to be found.

Thea rings me up and I’m golden. This became the shortest time spent in any store with the smallest stack and the least amount of money paid. 45 minutes to look through 16 bins of records for a total of $29.00 and I say good-bye to Rosie’s Vintage and Huntington until next time. Only two more stores are on the list to go before calling it quits on record-shopping for a while: Sunday Records in Riverhead and Innersleeve Records in Amagansett.

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″

[ladysophiebeckett]

just got home fm watching ‘the invitation’ and i want to extend my apologies to nathalie emmanuel. i said u were not an ‘it girl’. i was wrong. u are an ‘it gothic heroine girl’. 5 stars. i was wrong. apparently that four weddings and a funeral anthology on hulu is just fucking terrible and it was not your fault. nothing is your fault. u are perfect and i love you. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Play It Again - Ned Kendall x Reader (Beautiful Kate)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

It was always a Prequal/Sequal to “Somewhere on a Beach”. However it didn’t really turn out that way... You may however still read it as one.

Author’s Note: *ehem* So, Here’s another ‘Ned Kendall Has Been Stuck At The Bottom Of My Drafts For A Year’ fic. 😬

Also I started this one in December and it’s taken until now to finish it... 🙈

Asides from that, he did demand to be written in one sitting. So that’s how we are actually finished now! (Along with some persuasion from Amanda, of course!)

Disclaimer: Beautiful Kate Characters not mine / the titles of Ned’s novels are actually the titles of my mum’s novels 😁 / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: When you end up dating your favourite author you fear that telling him could lead to trouble. What you don’t know is Ned already knows, he’s just waiting for the right moment to tell you exactly how he feels...

Words: 7497

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations

________ She was sittin' all alone over on the tailgate Tan legs swingin' by her number plate I was lookin' for her boyfriend Thinkin', “No way! She ain't got one!?” Soon as I sat down I was fallin' in love Tryin' to pour a little sugar in her Dixie cup Talkin' over the speakers in the back of that truck She jumped up and cut me off She was like, oh my God, this is my song I've been listenin' to the radio all night long Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance 'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out And she gave me a kiss And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again A little while later We were sittin' in the drive in my truck Before I walked her to the door I was scannin' like a fool AM, FM, XM too But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove Man, you should have seen her light up The next Friday night we were sittin' out under the stars You should have seen her smile when I brought out my guitar Yeah, play it again, play it again, play it again Somebody, play it again, play it again, play it again

---

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you

---

The party wasn’t as far out of the city as he was used to, but far enough for it to be quiet. She was sitting alone, eyes staring at a fixed point in front of her, legs swinging over her tailgate like she was waiting for something... or someone... There was an empty cup in her hand and she wasn’t in any way paying attention to the party. She caught his eye immediately – young, and pretty, and just his type. He grabbed the nearest bottle of god-knows-what alcohol and glanced around. There had to be a boyfriend, there simply had to be. No way she was out here tailgating alone-! He eyed every single man, even those clearly not single just to make sure; and yet no one was making a move towards her. No one but him. She turned his way as he approached, head tilted inquisitively and offered a friendly smile. Ned Kendall looked back to the party with a soft chuckle; “Some party, huh?” “You could say that – the music isn’t bad…” Her eyes flicked back to her cup, “Guess I could use a top up.” “Oh!” He smiled, perching on the edge of her tailgate; “Allow me.” He poured a sensible amount into her cup and placed the bottle between them; “You here alone?” “Mhm.” She simply nodded, taking a sip; it wasn’t bad by all accounts, “Why? You lookin’ to change that?” Her smile was amused however, rather than her looking at him accusingly. Ned laughed, looking away from her, “I guess I just wanted to keep you company over here alone.” “Oh. I see.” There was a pause before she was laughing too, and patted the spot next to her, “Well, if you’re gonna do that, you might as well sit up here properly, …?” “Ned.” “Ned.” She nodded, taking another sip as he hoisted himself up into her truck bed, legs swinging in time with hers, “I’m Y/N.” You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to drive your truck back home, you’d already had a few too many trying to enjoy yourself before he’d shown up. Parties like this weren’t really your thing, but you did like getting out in the middle of nowhere to drink and tailgate from time to time – the music would be loud, and usually it was to your taste, as it was tonight. You didn’t ever particularly look for company, or to be hit on – the only time you’d been to these accompanied was with boyfriends past, and a few friends. But most of the people here tonight were unknown to you – a friend of a friend of a friend on some social media group had mentioned it, and you’d had nothing better to do. Still, as you laughed and talked with Ned in the back of your truck, you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying being here with someone. He was sweet, and his flirting was as smooth as his pouring, every so often he’d intersperse a dirty joke or two just to see how you’d react. And you knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop you from laughing and covering your face. “Oh God, that was bad!” “But you laughed!” “It was funny, but it wasn’t good!” The more you looked at him, the more you knew you’d already met him, or seen him around somewhere. Ned’s face was so familiar, but also just out of reach. You couldn’t place exactly who he was; a guy I’ve loved on the dance floor? A friends ex? A friends fling? I know this face… you weren’t the one night stand type, so he wasn’t one of yours. You were preparing to ask him exactly where you knew him from, maybe he’d approached you because he also already knew you, but you were just as soon distracted by the song change. “OH!” You leapt up – cutting him off mid-sentence; “It’s my favourite song!” Ned was just a little startled by the movement, not having a lot of time to react to the information before you turned back to him; “Come here, come dance with me.” His hesitation was momentary, and even as he asked if you were sure, Ned was sliding out of the back of your truck, hand out to take yours. “YES! I’m sure! Come on! This track is the best!!!” And, as you pulled him closer to you and let him wrap you in his arms as he danced with you – maybe a little closer than appropriate, Ned wasn’t one for disagreeing with you. Especially as you were clearly having the time of your life, carefree little smile on your face, the way you danced and laughed even harder than you had been before – clinging to him as he held you. How could he not love this? Ned had only come out here to get away from it all, and certainly get away from his desk and his writing for a while; at least to get out of his head. Maybe get a little drunk – but then here you were, and he wasn’t sure he’d quite meant for his evening to end holding someone. Ned thought you might let him go as the song ended but you didn’t, instead you pulled him in and laced your hands with his for the next song, and the next, and the next until things seemed to be winding down. This wasn’t really your kind of thing either, but there was nothing wrong with letting a hot guy spin you around in the middle of nowhere every once in a while – sometimes you just needed to take one or two steps out of line. You let him go with a giggle, he kept your hand in his and, as you didn’t protest, he assumed you also weren’t ready for this night to end just yet; “Thank you, Ned, I hope I didn’t wear you out too bad!” His smile was gentle; “Nah, I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve done anything like that for a while…” He glanced around, “What you say we get out of here.” “Ah-!” You pointed back to your truck, “I don’t think I’m legally allowed to drive.” Ned shrugged; “Well, I’m not doing too bad.” You weren’t sure that was true, but he seemed to be holding up better than you were. You already knew you were at the point where you’d do something stupid, like try to walk through a barrier to the subway without remembering to put your ticket in; that’d happened a few times before now.  “I could… take you somewhere?” You giggled again; “Is this just a ploy to get my address?” He smirked; “Guess that depends, does it come with your number?” You bit your lip through your smile with a single nod, yeah that was pretty well played; “I mean, I guess it could…” By all accounts he drove pretty well; although that raised its own questions: high alcohol tolerance, didn’t actually drink too much, you’d drunk waaay too much and therefore comparably he drove well… or just too used to driving in the state he was in. Not that you really wanted to dwell on that thought when you’d had such a good night. Ned pulled into your drive way and shut the engine off; “Oh. Yeah, nice neighbourhood.” He nodded, “Little better than a high rise in the city!” You scoffed, “You say that, but that also means you make enough money to afford a high rise in the city.” “Eh. You have a good point.” He turned to you, “Can I walk you to your door?” You were a little wary of where that could lead, but said yes anyway – and found yourself holding hands with him as you ascended your front steps. You both stood in silence again, studying each other – and wondering who was going to make the first move. He cleared his throat; “So, uh…” Ned rummaged in his back pocket, taking out his mobile, “Do I get that number?” You couldn’t help smiling and pulled yours out of your bag, “Do I get yours in return?” “MHM!” He couldn’t have taken your phone from you more eagerly if he’d tried, returning it to you just as quick. “Maybe…” he paused for a moment “Hey, Y/N, maybe we could do something sometime soon? Not exactly like tonight but, you know, and if you’d need a place to crash-” He hesitated once more at the intrigued look on your face and then thought better of it, “Well, we’ll discuss.” “I’d like that, I’d like to do something with you, Ned I think it’d be fun!” He was clearly happy you’d said that, “Alright! Excellent! And now we have numbers so… don’t- don’t be a stranger… Uh, you gonna be already getting your truck tomorrow?” “Yeah, don’t worry I’ve done it before.” You waved away his concern with a smile of gratitude “Cool. Well, you know if you need any help, let me know, I’m around.” “Oh! Thank you, I will!” Although he still didn’t disappear off your porch, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to leave it just like that either. In the end you couldn’t be sure which one of you moved first, all you knew is his lips were on yours, and your hands were back in his. It was an appropriately short kiss, but still a good one. And as he stepped back towards his car, you knew that was exactly how he was going to leave it. “Goodnight, Y/N.” “Goodnight, Ned, thank you – I had a great evening!” “Me too.” He nodded, and left you with a smile.

 You shook your head gently, still smiling as you closed the door after watching him walk down your porch steps - hand up in farewell. That kiss decided it wanted to linger on your lips, and him on your mind. So you let them. Ned - a name you also recognised, but you weren't sure where from. You'd figure it out in the morning. His face was so familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on either right now. When things were a little less cloudy for you, you were certain you’d remember. You changed for bed and grabbed yourself a glass of water. Tapping a text out to the number he'd given you ’Thank you for the great evening! Goodnight x’ knowing he'd have to drive home, you didn't expect a message back - but that didn't mean you weren't hoping to hear your phone buzz before you drifted off. It did, and you smiled but were too tired to pick it up - that didn't matter, you'd get it in the morning and it'd give you something good to wake up to. ***

 When you awoke your head was aching as much as you expected and you reached for your clock with a groan; the day was already nicely into double figures. You picked up your phone, squinting at the screen as it lit to relay what you’d missed.

Not only had you received a goodnight, but also a good morning text. Which made you smirk. Clearly he was serious about this being more than just a one night out, kiss on the front porch thing.

 You sat up - taking a sip of water that you had to thank yourself for placing on your bedside table. Luckily, you had put the glass down before you had a mini heart attack and almost screamed. The phone was dropped, and fell with an equally dramatic clatter.

 When you weren’t out and about at parties, your usual evening was spent curled up with a book, and you were currently working your way back through your favourite authors entire back catalogue before the release of his latest novel. So, there was currently a half finished one sitting on your bedside table. Complete with a little authors biography on the back. Which was fine. If it wasn’t for the accompanying picture.

You picked the book up in disbelief. No wonder his name and face was so fucking familiar to you. Because he was staring back at you now. Whether greatest moment of aligned stars or sheer dumb luck - you’d just pulled Ned Kendall. He was Ned Fucking Kendal! Your favourite author. And he’d just text you ‘Good Morning Beautiful x’

***

 You’d gone from hanging out casually at weekends to dating pretty quickly – although you didn’t think it was ever going to be anything other than dating, because his flirting was furious. Any time or reason Ned could think to see you, he did. You worked at a publishing house, but not his, as an editor – mostly factual books and biographies. All very interesting, but you loved escaping to the world of fiction. When he eventually confessed he was a writer you played dumb, wanting to pretend you had no idea who he was, that you’d never read a single word of anything he’d ever published. Although you had, many times over. Ned immediately recommended some of his favourites of his own work, and you said you’d have to check them out sometime. The truth was you didn’t want to look like a raving fan who was dating him just because of who he was. You didn’t want him to think that was the kind of girl you were. Because that wasn’t true at all, his name and his money – although you couldn’t be sure exactly how much Ned made – didn’t really mean a thing to you, you’d fallen for his personality and the man he was now. He didn’t write like the man he was – unless something had happened to change that. The release of his newest novel was immanent and part of you was holding off until then, so you could read that ‘first’. You already had a feeling that it was going to be like nothing else he’d ever written, and therefore be reviewed as such. But as much as you loved all his work, you were excited to see where he would take things now.  

However, even you couldn’t contingency plan for the scenario that Ned would find out for himself. On a quieter day, when you were busy in the kitchen having invited him over for dinner, Ned became curious in your bookshelf. You’d left him in your living room with a good glass of wine whilst you just checked on a few things, and he had nothing better to do than a bit of discovery. He wondered what kind of books you liked reading, what was your genre of choice, who were your favourite authors, what could he use on your shelves to get you to springboard into reading one of his own works. Ned knew, of course, that you wanted to wait for the new one – but part of him wanted you to read the darker parts of him, because if you could do that maybe this relationship would last. He wasn’t sure he could guarantee he wouldn’t go back there; he was certainly capable. A simple scan of the spines had him smiling, remembering a dig from one of his exes, ‘Noone reads anymore, my ass...!’  He ran his fingertips over them, every author listed alphabetically, and he nodded along impressed by the scale of the collection. Your non-fiction occupied the top few rows, but everything else was fictional, your genre ranging from romance to thriller to horror and back again. Ned liked that; you had range. And taste, damn this girl’s got taste! His smile only getting broader as he passed several of his own favourite authors, especially if they were books he’d particularly enjoyed. Ned found himself thinking he was probably onto a winner here – you were incredibly well read. But suddenly he paused, and moved away from the shelf, frowning like he wasn’t sure he was reading this right. Dragging his eyes back to the beginning of the row, he realised he was; and Ned’s heart gave a sudden jolt that he couldn’t explain. Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall... For the entire shelf. His eyes flicked to the kitchen, but you showed no signs of moving from there, he swallowed and looked to them once more. Ned realised very suddenly that you knew exactly who he was. EXACTLY who he was. But why hadn’t you told him that-!? Did you not want to tell him that for your own reasons? Should he therefore continue the game you were playing, as if he didn’t know you knew? This wasn’t just one or two he’d recommended you; this was everything he’d ever released, and judging by the fact most were also hardback, and the covers, a fair few were first editions. Better than that, nearly every single one of them was pristine; you also cared so much about your books. He understood that, though, he’d seen you read once or twice and you always made sure not to crease the spine. Except one. There was just one with his name on the spine where it was creased to the point where the title was barely readable. Your favourite...? He would think so. Read so often that it couldn’t be helped that it would at some point be ruined...

He smiled and slid it from the shelf; amazingly the cover was still pretty intact. Past Imperfect – he wondered what it was about this one that you loved so much? Maybe one day he’d get the opportunity to ask you about it. In fact, as he held it in his hands, nothing was stopping him from waltzing into your kitchen and leaning against the wall with a smirk; ‘Oh! So you knew I was a writer then!?’ But something about that seemed wrong. You wanted to come at this at your own pace, and it wasn’t fair for him to force that confession out of you. However, maybe Ned could help you out. He turned, and scanned the room again, taking the book with him, looking for a pen. He grabbed the first one he could – making sure it worked on the back of his hand before opening the front cover. Ned thought for a minute, tapping the pen against his lip, and then smirked as he leant on the table to write the perfect message, accompanied by his signature. With that, and with you still not here, he closed the book and slotted it back into its rightful place on the shelf. Because he knew if there was one book of his you were going to pick up and re-read, it’d be that one. Stepping away again he took a deep breath, and realised how good he felt. You were a fan of his. You knew his darker parts because it was all right here in front of him, and you’d come into his life now – at the beginning of a brand new chapter. That made him even more excited that you were about to accompany him on this journey; and with the biggest grin on his face he walked into the kitchen; “Hey, babe, do you need some help?” “Oh, no you don’t need to-” You turned from the counter and paused at the look on his face, how happy he was suddenly, “What?” Although you could hardly help but mirror his smile. He gave a shrug, “Nothing…” Although that couldn’t be further from the truth; “I guess I’m just so in love!” and then, Ned knew that he was. ***

In and around the release date of A Few Words Too Many Ned had a lot of press to do, and it wasn’t something he’d ever particularly enjoyed – yet, this time it was all very different. And most of all, he liked asking you to things. He’d known the truth for a good few months now, and he was trying to bring you into as much of his writing world as he possibly could. He’d already made you promise to read excerpts from his latest manuscript, and as you were an editor he wondered if he’d be able to persuade you to be his. Maybe. Ned thought you just as much might be dying to ask – under that façade. But he didn’t push or force any issue, or try to get you to trip up. He did, however, invite you to a book talk, you’d already been to the release party with him, and accompanied him to a couple of pre-release interviews. Even though you worked for a publishing house, seeing it from the point of the view of an author was fascinating. Tonight you wouldn’t be sitting with Ned, but in the audience listening to your boyfriend talk about both his latest release and his back catalogue. You had some burning questions of your own, but, also you’d not read a word of the new one yet – despite him offering to get you a copy of it. You were much happier to support him by buying one; which you would in your own time. Also, this was the first night it would be available to the public, so you wanted to read it at the same time everyone else got to. Ned couldn’t lie that he was a little disappointed in the evening as a whole. Because whilst he was up there answering everyone else’s desperate questions, the ones he really wanted to answer were yours, and there was no way you didn’t have any. You were content to sit in silence, taking it all in. He might have been your favourite author, but you had never been to a talk by him before. And you knew Ned was fascinating as it was, but hearing him talk about his books with as much passion as you had for reading them was truly another experience all together. And just the difference between this bad boy public image – the kind of man who would write and live something like ‘Half His Luck’ and the way he was with you (although if you were to confess, sometimes when it got hot and heavy between you he was a little like that) were very nearly worlds apart. But Ned was nice, he was still personable and his sense of humour was like a fire cracker. You liked hearing everyone else laugh at the cheeky way he answered certain questions, and how they all held on to every word as he got deep on occasion. You were proud of him, and at least you would be able to tell him that much without giving it all away.

At the end of the night, after you’d sat there beaming, watching him sign for everyone who’d purchased a copy of his book and how much of an sweetheart he was 1:1 with his fans - how he took time to talk to them, take photographs and answer any final questions they had – Ned checked his watch and took your hand, announcing he had reservations at one of his favourite places down town. That was good with you, you realised just how hungry you were. “Did you enjoy that?” “I had a lot of fun!” You nodded, “And you? It looked like you enjoyed the evening. You’re certainly good with your fans!” “…Yeah.” Ned looked bashful for a moment before his eyes locked on yours, wishing you’d understand quite the significance of what you were saying. “It was good, I mean… I just wish you’d ask questions.” For a moment you went red, but recovered well – “I suppose I better get reading if I want to ask you questions as good as they all did-!” “Yeah, a few spoilers that hopefully you’ll forget!” “Oh! Then I hope I do!” You laughed, holding his hand a little tighter and winding yourself around his arm, head on his shoulder, “I should read this one now it’s out, too…” it was a quiet muse. Ned took a deep breath; maybe then he’d finally get to press the issue of your bookcase with you. “Yeah, I suppose you should!” “I bet your writing is incredible. I bet all your work is amazing! The way you talk about it is…” You trailed for a moment, “I can tell how much you care – about how much of you is in your work. So, I… I guess I get to discover that.” He pulled you into a kiss, it was a sudden moment, and Ned couldn’t help himself. That was damn near as close to a confession as he was going to get and he knew that – still, it was the best thing you could have possibly said. And you got to revel in him once more. He let you go with an embarrassed chuckle; “I’m sorry I just- Thank you. I think… I think you’re gonna really love ‘em, Y/N.” And the sooner the better, because all you’d done was make Ned want to discuss every single little detail with you.

 Dinner was delicious – if there was something else Ned knew; it was exactly where to eat in this town – and as he drove you back to his place Ned kept his hand in yours. The radio was on quietly, and neither of you were really paying attention to it, until a familiar tune began playing. “Holy shit!” You sat up, overjoyed and turned the dial. Ned couldn’t help how hard he laughed; “Oh! Y/N! I think it’s your song!”

***

Ned had always been right, eventually you were going to go back to your favourite of his novels. You’d finally purchased your own copy of A Few Words Too Many – and he kept eagerly asking if you’d got very far. You continued teasing him that you’d only read a couple of pages, which for him was more than enough, and you were very reserved in the way you gushed over his writing style – yet were certainly gushing. And Ned was overjoyed at that; knowing this was just a taste of what he’d get out of you once you figured out he knew. In reality you were probably around half way through. It was getting raved about; this was the ‘one where he found himself’, the style was lighter, cleaner, Ned’s hope; rather than dark and murky despair that all his readers had grown accustomed to – where he questioned everything. They weren’t wrong, this was a different Ned Kendall; though his use of language was still gorgeous, it flowed with a different type of confidence and it was damn near unputdownable – and you were dating him! Every time you’d read another incredible line you’d have to mark it down, and sometimes it had you nearly screaming, or crying – on occasion they were very happy reactions. Somehow when you were absorbed in his world building, you could hardly believe that you were lucky enough to be with this man… And you knew that soon enough, you would have to confess to him, because you couldn’t keep this to yourself much longer.

 What you had never counted on was Ned being curious about your taste in authors for himself. It probably should have occurred to you, but never did. So you found out he knew in a completely different way than either of you expected. You had a friend of yours staying over for a girls night in, and you hadn’t seen her for a while – given that she lived on nearly the other side of the country  - she was one of your very best friends, and therefore knew nearly everything about you; including that Ned Kendall was ‘the greatest writer of all time’. To quote yourself. (When he wasn’t writing hilariously trashy erotic romance novels, although you had to be honest you enjoyed those too.) “Did you see your favourite author had a new book out-!?” “Hmm?” “That Ned Kendall bloke.” “Oh! Yeah-! I did...” It wasn’t common knowledge amongst your friends that Ned and yourself were dating, for obvious reasons. “Have you read it yet?” “No...” Well not all of it, you sighed and looked to your shelf; “Whenever I read his new stuff it always makes me go back to these. Don’t get me wrong his new books are good, but, there’s something incredibly haunting about the way he used to write.... a man... trying to tell you a secret... yet, never quite committing to it. A guy with a lot of complex issues. And I always felt that.” “So, would you recommend any-! I’ve never read them so, try me out!” You automatically went for Past Imperfect and held it out to her; “This is my favourite. And I go back to it time, and time, and time again...” “Why?” She gave a gentle smile of encouragement, genuinely curious as to your choice. “Just read the first page, you’ll know exactly why. It’s like suddenly an author was speaking to my soul. I can’t explain it...” You took a deep breath, feeling like you were spilling secrets you shouldn’t have been “I’ll, uh, get us some drinks!” Suddenly you were called back as she flipped through pages; “Have you met him-!?” “What?” You stepped through, eyebrow raised, what would cause her to ask that? That nearly panicked you – paparazzi shots? Was Ned even famous enough for that kind of thing-!?! “Met him-! You met him!? You never said-!?” You were about to deny it fervently, but were just as confused by her question when she turned the book around. You crossed to her, eyes wide, and grabbed it: “Y/N, all my love always, Ned x” You turned back to your book shelf suddenly horrified. Ned knew. He knew! He knew and he never said anything-?! Dammit-! Of course a writer would be interested in the kinds of books his significant other read! Maybe he was thinking about getting you to read that work for himself!! Is THAT why he’d been so disappointed at the book signing-!? When had he done this? More importantly, why had it taken you SO long to find it-!? “Y-Yeah.” You turned back to her, “I, uh, I went to a book signing when the latest one came out…” The temperature of your body was rising and you were already bright red, a dead give-away to mark you out as a liar – even though it wasn’t strictly untrue. She raised an eyebrow, and you knew nothing was about to get past her; “Y/N.” Or that tone of voice – now you were in trouble “And, uh… Uh…” You stammered, covering your flushed face with the book, “I’m… dating him!” “You’re WHAT-!?!” She yelled it, and dragged you down onto the sofa, “And you kept it from me-!? Bitch, hell no! Details NOW!!!”

***

Given the nature of your relationship and how much you liked being around each other, it wasn’t long until you found yourself on a lunch date with him. Ned was on a permanent high right now as it was; the novel was doing incredibly well, and that was spilling over into the way he talked to you, the way he texted you – even in the way you tangled together under his sheets. You wondered if you were about to add to that high. Well, you’d have to get through your own embarrassment first. Ned waved enthusiastically across the restaurant at you, sliding off his shades. Today he’d opted to sit outside, and it was a glorious day, warm with a good breeze, so he’d chosen the table well. “Hey gorgeous, how you doing?” He stood to kiss you in greeting, which meant you were blushing immediately. “I’m... I mean if I wasn’t such an idiot I’d be doing better, however, in context of the question I’m good!” You tucked your chair in as he sat down again, eyebrow raised; “Oh?” You immediately turned to your bag, and pulled the book out, dropping it on the table. You didn’t dare look at his face as you tapped your fingernails on the cover; “You- I- When did you do this!? H-How long have you known!?” He chuckled, leaning forward to trying to get you to look at him, taking your hands when you didn’t; “A good while, we hadn’t been together so long. But I knew it, I knew that’d be the novel you went back to.” Your head in fact dipped further, “Oh god, I feel so fucking stupid!!” “For not saying anything?” Ned titled his head, “Babe, you had your reasons I’m sure… now come on, look at me. You’re far too beautiful to show your face to just the table!” Although you were glowing, and all across your face read your embarrassment as you looked back to him slowly; “I-I guess I didn’t want you to think that I was with you… just because.” “Now where would you get that idea?!” He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, “Now I get to talk to you about my work, and you get to ask every question you’ve ever been dying to ask me ever! And thank god!” You shook your head, “You weren’t disappointed in the event, just in me for not asking anything…” You blinked a few times, “I should have realised that.” “Baby, it’s okay. Do it now. Do it now!” “You’re not mad!?” “God, no…” He shook his head, “Frustrated. Bursting to get you to confess – yes maybe – but not mad. I knew in good time we’d get there. And I will certainly be drinking to it!” Ned let your hands go and grabbed the wine menu. “…Will you be mad if I tell you how much of A Few Words Too Many I’ve read?” Ned glanced up slowly from the list; “You finished it yet?” “VERY nearly.” His eyes narrowed, but he smirked; “I knew a few pages was just a bluff. Real question is are you enjoying it as much as everyone else appears to be.” You leant on your hand and mused for a second, before smiling to answer him; “I am. It’s different for you… I guess I really fell for the darker spells in your past. But this… There’s so much hope in it. You learned a lot, I suppose, and this is the you now, that I get to be with. OH my god, though! Some of the lines and your humour?! It’s your best work for a while. Not… that I don’t enjoy everything you publish.” “I’ve come a little way since that one…” He nodded towards the book you’d placed on the table, but you noticed the faint blush now appearing on his cheeks; “Still, thank you. That’s very kind. I wondered what you’d think – you clearly reread everything.” You nodded, “Every time I find something else I never noticed before - your writing is quite honestly unique in that respect. At least from what I’ve read – you have anecdotes and maybe experience that allows you to write such a way but this-” You drew the novel to you; “The man in this, the man who wrote this, has affected me in a way no other work has. And now you’ve signed it!?” Your sigh was gentle, “I mean, I just want to sit here and thank you forever…”  You covered your mouth suddenly, as if you’d been missing the point; “But-! NED! I just…! Oh my god, I know I should have said something! And you COULD have said something! But this makes me so glad you didn’t.” “What I wrote was okay, then?” You tucked your hair back and blushed again at his sweet smile, looking away from his amused blue eyes once more; “All my love always?” Did he want that? From you-!? How could that not be okay? “I just hope that we get to feel that way about each other… for a very long time.”

 ***

And so months’ worth of dating became years – and eventually you moved into that very same high rise apartment; and for the record, you still didn’t see what he was complaining about. You’d gotten the opportunity now to first round edit some scenes that he liked showing you, and a couple of his manuscripts. Ned still hadn’t released anything new for a while – because he said nothing was striking him with real inspiration. A couple of the manuscripts were even already finished, but, he said they just didn’t feel right to him - they needed something a little more and he’d come back to them. Then inspiration struck him from the most obvious place. Because you were right in front of him – and your relationship was a story in itself, even if he put it in fiction and changed it around. You were the kind of woman who he could easily make into a romantic lead everyone would fall for – and he could do right by a character like you. Suddenly Ned went from writing just a little every day, or every so often, to writing nearly the whole day through, even late into the night; when night became day again. You let him get on with his process, and supported him through it as best you could – which he couldn’t have appreciated more. One evening though, you leant on the back of his chair as he read over his latest scene, and had to enquire; “Who is keeping you away from me? She better be nice – you’ve written some truly awful women.” Though by now you knew a lot more about his past; and exactly why he’d written such things, “Mind you, your men aren’t usually angels either…” You mused, resting your head on his. Ned chuckled gently, reaching behind him to pull you onto his lap, “You’ll have to read it and find out.” “Awww-!” You whined, winding your arms around him and kissing his temple as he flipped the page, “Will you at least tell me what it’s about?” “You.” And he sounded deadly serious, still looking at the page as he said it You scoffed for a moment, “Me?” “Uh huh.” “Oh no! Come on! What’s it really about!” You pouted as his tease. Ned only smiled; “I said what I said!” “Alright-!” You threw your hands up but kissed him again, “Keep your secrets!” You continued to sit with him as he read however, head in the crook of his neck, running your hands over his chest affectionately. But every so often you’d chuckle. Because as IF, right!? Why would Ned want to write about you? What was special enough to be his muse in a novel like the kind he wrote? You supposed he’d make you wait until the final manuscript to find out what it was really about – but that joke in itself made you desperate to find out more. It was a couple of days later, when you were heading off to work, that Ned presented you with a few pages tied together in red ribbon; “Oh?” You took them from him delicately, “What’s this?” “Just a scene – you wanted to know a little about it. Well, I think this could be the one, so,” He nodded to it, “I wanted you to have the first piece, see what you think!” “Aw.” You held it close to your heart for a moment, before pushing up on your toes to kiss him; “Thank you!” “You’re welcome-! It’ll give you a work break.” “Ohhh-!” You grinned, opening the door, “I don’t think it’ll last until my break!!” You blew him one last kiss, “See you later Ned! I love you!” He held his hand up to wave, “Goodbye, Y/N! Have a good day – I’ll still be here when you get back!” You very nearly cackled; “Aw, heck I know! Write well Ned Kendall!” “God, I hope so!” He laughed after you, only closing the front door when he heard the elevator ping to announce it was picking you up. Ned knew exactly what he’d given you, the scene was a lot more subtle than most of what he’d written – where it would be more obvious that his muse was indeed you. But you’d been so adamant that he was joking with you that he didn’t want you to get it right away, Ned wanted you to read the novel and suddenly realise and gasp, and snap the novel shut, and maybe even throw it at him – and then cry. Sometimes you cried when you read his work; and there wasn’t a time that Ned Kendall loved you more than the raw emotion you displayed when you were transported away by a book. This one was special though, this wasn’t like any other novel he’d written that you’d loved. This one was his gift to you. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and then turned towards his guitar; it was cheap and worn, but he’d got it for only one specific reason. That favourite song of yours seemed to follow the both of you everywhere, at every single moment of significance. With this particular book being written, and another significant anniversary of yours coming up, Ned had taken time out of writing to learn that song, so that he might one day (soon, he hoped) be able to play it to you. He reached out to pick it up and made himself comfortable, smiling at the thought of you – and what your reaction would be when all of this finally came together. This would be his gift to you, too.

***

When it was finally a few days before he distributed it – you realised that Ned had hardly let you read any more of it than that single ribbon tied scene. And you’d never seen someone so excited as he was when the box of first editions arrived at his front door. Until he made you sit down. And placed a copy in front of you. It wasn’t in stores yet – meaning that this one was the very first book handed out. And Ned wouldn’t take no for an answer this time, you knew you couldn’t refuse him the gift. Play It Again You pulled it towards you, thick paper, and significant in volume – possibly one of the longest he’d written – hardcover, new book smell with that beautiful glossy cover. Your hands shook in anticipation, and he looked so proud. But also like you might break his heart at any moment. You looked for his go ahead to open it, but Ned had suddenly lost the ability to speak; all he could do was nod. You took a deep breath, and opened to the dedications page. Immediately your heart jumped from your chest, and you thought all your emotions were about to come out at once; culminating in tears. You were about to cry all over a brand new book. The first few lines were lyrics you recognised well, to your favourite song. The lines you loved the most. And underneath, in printed ink: “For Y/N, For all your support. From the very first lines I wrote, until now, I don’t think I’ve ever loved, or been loved the way you love me. All my love, always Ned x” Beneath his heartfelt dedication, fresh ink from his flowing signature. Just his name this time around. You covered your mouth for a moment, because you couldn’t speak either. This one was dedicated to you, in printed ink. Permanently. That message was there for all the world to see – everyone’s copy was going to have this exact same text. And you were speechless. You hid your face for a moment as your tears began to flow, but you knew they were happy ones – and his were too. Because Ned couldn’t watch you read this without crying either. “I love you so much, Y/N. How could this have been for anyone but you!?” You nodded, and he understood that you couldn’t form words yet – taking your hands in his, he sat opposite you, it all suddenly a little too much to take. Eventually you shakily managed a sentence, looking back to his face; “W-What is it about!?” For one, you needed to know the significance of those lyrics. Just for you, or because they meant something to the story? Ned wiped his eyes, with a beaming smile; “... You already asked me that...” “I did?” “I said I was writing about you. You said you didn’t believe me; you really should have...” Your eyes widened and you immediately flipped the book over. “No! No! Don’t read the end-! That’s cheating!” He places his hands over yours and you bit your lips together; “Why, Ned, what happens at the end...?” “Well,” he smiled again, “that would be telling.” His face was thoughtful for a second, “Let’s just say... this writer hopes it doesn’t have an ending.” You pulled your hands from his to lean on them, gazing up at him with sudden adoration. And your sigh was equally dreamy, “Well, I guess this reader also hopes there’s no end...”

--- Thank you for reading my write-r! 🙏💜

[omegaplus]

# 2,346

Rosie’s Vintage shopping list, 2018.

Two more stops to go before the music shopping spree is history. Whatever locations are on the list seems to be further away each time. Today’s theme is the record annex which is picking up on Long Island. It started a year-and-a-half ago when Hideaway Vinyl set shop in Rosie’s Vintage in Huntington. Looks like they have an online presence still despite nothing being updated in a few months, so why not take the trip to see what it’s all about?

It’s been quite a while since being in Huntington. I do have some personal history there. My ex- Yenny brought me over to work there (our second job working together) for several years and it’s where she used to live. And let’s try to forget a dreaded miserable summer post-rain day out with former friend and staffer Molina, who took me through a cemetery, burger place, and an isolated park in an attempt to get close to me. No dice.

I walk in to Rosie’s and it’s bonafide vintage. Looks like the owners took over a small Fifties-style house in white-bread suburbia. Walk in and you’ll certainly feel the loud creaking of the all-wood floors. Its’ living room, dens, bedrooms, and many closets are filled with tons of kitsch, knick-knacks, and collectibles from the mid-century. Street signs, old threads, compasses, jewelry, board games, wardrobes, dolls, salt-shakers...I can go on. There’s many stories and tales to be told by each and every object that survived its’ era; all neatly organized, piled, and sorted. As an added touch, there’s the classics played on the overheads. Collections were posted on its page and testimonials from its customers recall their purchases: old vials and medicine jars, pill and spice tins, matchbook collections, sports pennants, dishes, and the occasional naughty glassware. I can still go on if you want me to.

The guy behind the register greets me and asks what he could do for me. I’m here for Hideaway Vinyl, I say. He tells me that they left shop a few months ago. Could’ve fooled me. They no longer exist. They’re still present online on social media but it all made sense why the lack of updates. Had Hideaway stayed, there’d be a presence of punk, hardcore, surf, ska, and rockabilly. He did show me where all the vinyl is now deposited by Vinyl Paradise. Remember them? There were twelve shelves top and bottom of pre-owned vinyl, four of the same across from those bins of newly-pressed and Record Store Day releases. 

Of the first twelve were plenty of rock, pop, dance, and 12″ dee-jay singles most for $10.00 and less with the occasional new hardcore pressing. I found a lot of 12″ hip-hop and dance singles; Nice & Wild and Harold Faltermeyer were two hits New York’s Z100 played growing up during my single-digit Eighties youth. Everything else in Shabba Ranks, Mad Skillz, Boogiemonsters, and Blahzay Blahzay were all summer hits going to Brentwood. WBLS, Hot 97, and Kiss FM played them all. As always, there’s the pop-rock quotient from Genesis and Dire Straits. Hello, nice to meet you again. Also relieved to find was the complete Malcomb McLaren & The World Famous Supreme Team’s “Buffalo Gals” in a die-cut label sleeve.

In comes Thea, co-owner of Rosie’s Vintage in her rockabilly / Rosie The Riveter motif. She says hello and sees the stack in my hand. She offers to put it aside for me which I obliged. I kindly ask if there would be more vinyl and does tell me there might be some upstairs. That’s where I’m going. Heading up is possibly one of the steepest set of steps I experienced walking. I also had to dodge a heavy-set punk couple decked with gauges, tattoos, low-cut tank tops and tees coming from downstairs. I walk up and there’s a closet with a secret crate of records on the floor containing The Talking Heads’ 77 for $20.00 and its’ sister Tom Tom Club’s Close To The Bone for $15.00. Shucks. I scour the upstairs to find many more antiques. Compasses, typewriters, old magazines, books, brochures in one room with very little traces of 7″ records in one crate. The kitchen was full of dishes, glasses, and silverware stacked in the sink and on its’ counter but no records to be found.

Thea rings me up and I’m golden. This became the shortest time spent in any store with the smallest stack and the least amount of money paid. 45 minutes to look through 16 bins of records for a total of $29.00 and I say good-bye to Rosie’s Vintage and Huntington until next time. Only two more stores are on the list to go before calling it quits on record-shopping for a while: Sunday Records in Riverhead and Innersleeve Records in Amagansett.

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″

[mechbeaut]

From this meme. @narcotlcs​ said: ❝ Can’t sleep? ❞

Knees are pulled up against chest, arms wrapped tightly around them as Rylan's chin rests against them. Light blue eyes are watching the flickering, dancing flames of the fire in front of her and her back is just pressed into the log. Something that she's meant to be sitting upon but instead, just simply hasn't. Once, she had sat on it and hadn't found comfort in it's feeling, so the ground had quickly become a close friend. Though, she knew it was late. Most of the others had found their beds in their rooms and passed out in it's comfort. Blankets wrapped over them, moved away, or kicked to the side. Their heads snuggled comfortably upon their pillows or against another's chest or even on the arm tucked under them, however other people slept, she wasn't sure, but all those ways had been something she had done once in her lifetime. She was pretty sure a few of them had snored as well, but she wouldn't say who or from what room, not openly. That was blackmail she could use at a later date, a different time when she was annoyed or wanted to fuck with someone. It would be stored for that perfect rainy day. She had longed for the comfort of her bed, but not the one inside. Not the one here. She felt homesick. Felt as if her stomach was churning around the contents of food she hadn't ate at dinner time. It growled in frustration but it was shoved aside. Her mind was too busy, too full of other things to even acknowledge the thought of eating something to tie her over to breakfast. This place really could take a toll on a person. At least the fire had been a welcoming, familiar thing. Bonfires in the backyard with the sound of Max's laughter over a silly joke or the sound of her mother's gentle voice when she sang along to her favorite song on the radio. Rylan's silent muttered complaints about how it was FM instead of something off a streaming site without ads for used cars or the local soda shop down the block.

Rylan had found herself missing home. Missing the comforts of four walls and roof over her head that wasn't this cabin they had been so generously gifted. There's a slight roll of her eyes with that statement but god, she was thankful that tears had stopped and there was hope that her eyes no longer looked puffy or that the fire would at least drown it out. There's a sigh that leaves. She had hope, of course she did, that eventually they would be out of this place and back home. She would take the trauma and the built of friendships with her, but god, she just wanted to hug her baby brother. Wanted to tell her mother she loved her and she was sorry for disappearing. She even wanted to look her older sister in the face and maybe give her a hug. Rylan would tell her father those few choice words she had been saving for so long. No more holding back. No more being scared. No more trembling when her anger became too much for her. She'd open her own shop. Find a place she felt she belonged, and maybe, just maybe, she'd stick around those she had met her. Maybe that would be what's best for her, what was good.

Felix's voice had cause a jolt to pass through her body, causing her to jump a little, eyes falling closed for a split second as she laughed just then, shaking the small hint of fear off her shoulders. She hadn't expected anyone else this late around the fire. Her gaze shifts up to him, the smile becoming like a ghost, just barely visible upon her features. "Not really. What about you?" Rylan shakes her head a little, tossing curls over her shoulders as she straights up a little, shifting with her arms as she unwraps them from her legs to give him a place to sit, it was up to him if he wished to join her upon the ground or sit on the log behind her, she wouldn't have minded. "I was thinking about home." She gives a single shoulder shrug just then, realizing that saying it aloud had made her sound a little more sad than what she actually was. What was left of home? Of her family? Of her friends? Was there really anything for her to return to there aside from death or the possibility of it? "It is nice to have your company though. It's nice out and now I've got a hot guy next to me? What a lucky girl I am."

[duallygirl178]

Dearest O'Malley Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My name is O'Malley C. Malibu and I was born in August 28, 1967. I live with one old woman and her abusive husband in New Mexico. I am a Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu and I’m pretty rare of my kind too. My favorite music is rock n' roll and the oldies from 1950s, 60s, 70s, 80, and 90s and when I had a plug in boom box, I’d listen to KOOL 104.5 FM or whenever I could. I'd like to tell you a little about my childhood back-story. After living in Texas and already moved in to Farmington New Mexico, I met two friends; a mid 1960s (a 1963 or 1964) Lincoln Continental 2 door and the other was a 1963 Chevrolet impala. Their names were Gonzo and Impa. We had all the same things in common; music, games, TV shows, sports, activities, hobbies, movies, and books. Our female interests were a bit different, but we were the three best friends that anyone ever saw. If we felt like hanging out, the three if us get together at the diner first. Then we'd go moon shining...not the alcohol moon shining, but the game where you turn off your headlights while being chased by police at night and just rip it up in the woods. We never got caught and that was the fun of it. The three of us grew up, lived close by, and hung out together. We couldn't be separated as we aged. We were a little younger when we met such as Impa was 4 years younger than I was. He liked to get into trouble a lot, break out and be noisy when he got just a little too much. He was an adult, but he dated different females every day of the week. He pretty much was big playboy. Gonzo was 3 years younger than me and he loved to listen to big jazz bands and rock n' roll songs. He was kind of a dork. He was a bit of a smart axle towards women. If he saw a female he wanted, he'd get her to do whatever he said or do that he can use. If a car was in a spot he wanted, he'd brush him or her aside with his rear and say "Scoot over little buster" or he'd say "Move it little buddy" and he'd steal their spot in which they were parked in. He was a rare smoker and only smoked cigars or cigarettes every other occasion like when the moon shined or one of our birthdays were coming up. Sometimes, we’d encounter a supernatural thing every once in a while; like a poltergeist here or shadow people there or even extraterrestrial somewhere. we'd run away laughing when an alien would chase us as if we were some kind of UFO hunter group and that's when Gonzo would smoke his cigars.. There were times when went thought we were UFO hunters and even acted like it even though we were messing around and goofing off. We'd moonshine every 3 years because it was beginning to be a habit but we sure made memories that were never let go.

Then in the year 1969, we were mature enough to date females in the summer until September. That was the season for love and settling down. Gonzo picked up two females; one of them was from a gas station and the other from a grocery store. I met a female Impala that found me at a diner, just staring at me. She had started a conversation and soon it grew into a relationship. It didn't take me long to realize I was an Impala guy and learning that her name was Matilda was very interesting. We began dating and spending some quality time in the romance with her. Impa went out and had met some Thunderbird that seemed nice, but had a mean streak in her gears and if she was taken, advantage of or angered, she could get to being as mean as Judge Judith Shienman. She had good judgment and she kept Impa in line. We still hung out the next day of doing this or that last night and we did whatever Impa and Gonzo wanted to do. When we weren’t doing any activities in romance, we’d smuggle reefer, take it to the woods and smoke it to celebrate our friendship as three best friends for kicks. We were laughing back and forth to one another and roasting each other verbally in a caring way, when we heard some twigs snapping behind us. Someone or something was watching us. We turned on our lights and looked, but we didn’t see anything or notice anything because we were high and freaking out. We started murmuring to each other on what or who it would have been. Impa looked like an infant who just wet his diaper because he was the one freaking out the most. We looked behind bushes and trees and still nothing there. Whatever it was, it was gone for the moment.

As soon as we calmed down, we smoked another joint to relax with. Just as we started to have a continued conversation, something appeared from the bushes. We got a good look at it. It was 3 meters tall, two almond shaped eyes and had four fingers on both sides of its hands. We couldn’t see the feet but it wore this rubber one-piece suit that was black. We all ran as it chased us. I was terrified stiff. We ran in separate ways and when we reached the road, we knew it was a highway. I almost bumped into Gonzo when I sighted him. We both were scared until the oil-drained cold. We asked each other on what that thing was. Our minds focused on that entity chasing us. Then, we realized in our argument, Impa was missing. We went back to the woods to look for him. We called Impa’s name, looked and looked and called again, but he didn’t respond. We began to get panicky! We tried retracing our steps on where we went, which way we had gone, and where we’ve been. We called again for the final time. The alien was gone. Impa was gone. Gonzo was usually really, really calm, but this time, he lost it. He screamed out to see if Impa would hear. He was freaking out. I told him to get a hold of himself and suggested we’d go get the sheriff, state police, woodlands ranger and see what they could do. So when we got all the help we could contact, after we had explained that our friend was missing and we were scared. They searched everywhere, by helicopter to tread. They looked deep and well for Impa b7t they had no luck. We both got interviewed by the news about the situation and tried to stay calm. We didn’t mention anything about the marijuana or else Gonzo and I would be in trouble or worse. We stayed out there in the woods for days and weeks, but Impa was never found. They allowed us to go home and let us know if they found him. Gonzo stayed over that night at my garage. We couldn’t get the frightening image out of our memories. I tried to make us feel better in any way I knew, but we couldn’t settle down. This month, would surly mess us up. Gonzo fussed that it was his fault when he didn’t know Impa was going to go missing. I told him he didn’t know or couldn’t predict that. It wasn’t anyone’s fault because it wasn’t planned. I advised that we better turn on the radio while we passed the time…something to relax by to keep the fear away on what we saw. Gonzo thought it was a good idea to go to a dance and pick up a few ladies to dance with. There was a dance going on at the Elk’s Lodge restaurant. Little Richard was performing tonight and who knew, maybe this would be my last activity before any of us moved away. That way we could forget about the incident. Therefore, that was exactly what we did. We went to the Elk’s lodge for the dance. There was a lot of people tonight and we got to have a backstage pass to get inside while the music poured out of the walls and windows.

We grooved until midnight and now that everything was slowing down, we left early since it was the last song of the dance. I was getting tired myself and barely had enough energy to get a late night car wash. When I came home, I settled right down along with Gonzo. We talked about how much fun we had at the jive and we bragged that we got to dance with a charming female until we fell asleep. It was very late and I hadn’t heard any clues of the disappearance of Impa. Then right around 8 A.M the next day, police arrived with some news about what they found. They hadn’t found Impa, but they only gave me a simple “Chevrolet” Decal keychain that they picked up that was from Impa. They had given up the search. I sighed sadly and told them they could be on their way. I got a last question that was I ever gong to be okay? Of course, as I assured them that I would be alright, just to avoid deeper conversation, I wondered where Impa went to. I hoed the alien didn’t get him. I went out, got together with Gonzo, tried to act like everything was the same, but something was missing. It was Impa… He’d know just how to kick off a conversation. Without him, who must I know to add to our group to make three of the best friends? We tried introducing ourselves to others. We tried VW busses, VW bugs, wagons, and VW Golf’s but they turned out to be hippies and crack heads. We tried everything but there was one last chance to try and we had to take it for the hope to better ourselves. I asked in offer to this huge 1965 Pontiac Bonneville fellow who was by his lonesome. He turned towards us and smiled with a short reply of “I’d be honored, been all by myself since the mistress died.” and as that, the conversation was up and running again only tales of his history. He first introduced himself as “Dean Longsknight“” He was a nice fellow, but also big. He had a deep wise southern voice that was just as soft as honey. If it was all we had to work with, then we worked with it.

A month later, my sister and three of my brothers came by to see me on how I was holding up with my owner’s husband kicking me and beating bruises into me. I told them it wasn’t the lady’s husband I was worried about. When I explained when Impa disappeared, they were shocked. I had asked for help but it was no use. Impa was gone forever. It appeared my cousins were with my siblings. They were too shocked by the tale I had told. I heard of people disappearing and I know what I do when I got nervous. Thinking wherever Impa went to or what happened to him must have been terrible. I just hoped nothing bad happened to him and I said the exact thing to my cousins with meaning. I wanted Impa back but hoping wasn’t going to bring him back. All I had left of him was his keychain as a reminder of the crumbs the police had found that one day. The day the police gave up the search for Impa. My friend, Impa was never heard from again.

[beautyisyours]

BONES GOES COUNTRY

(Side note: it’s so weird how things change but stay the same. Now I am constantly scolded for putting acts on our show that aren’t “country” enough. So, like in real life, I never really fit in perfectly on the radio, either. I may be the only guy to play 2Pac into Luke Bryan into Lou Bega on a country station. I also bring in acts to perform on the country stations that aren’t country at all. I’ve had Ed Sheeran in performing live. Even Shaggy came in to do a couple of songs. Yeah, “It Wasn’t Me” Shaggy. The station managers were like “WTF?”)

Because Rod and I had been talking about my moving into a country format, I didn’t think it was all that odd when he invited me to the Country Music Awards in November. “I know you’re wanting to spread the word about your show,” Rod said. “So why don’t you come to Nashville? Everyone’s going to be in town at the same time. Station managers, company managers. Ordinarily it’d be tough to get all these people in the same room.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. I booked my Southwest flight and off I went to do my Top 40 show from the heart of country music, and hopefully get station managers to see it was a good fit for their stations. Almost as soon as I landed in Nashville, Rod and his team (from the company then known as Clear Channel but later rebranded iHeartMedia) were wining and dining me. Well, just dining me. They took me to so many awesome dinners and cool places it was freaky. Maybe they just like me, I thought to myself. But that wasn’t what it turned out to be at all.

On my second day in Nashville, Rod casually suggested we check out a shoot where all these top bands were doing national promos for our company. “Of course!” was my speedy reply. Tim McGraw was there; Lady Antebellum was there; Carrie Underwood was there. And everyone was super nice, and so clearly A-game. “Well, this is pretty cool,” I thought to myself. “I’m in Nashville to meet all of the bosses. And I get to see a few country stars, too!”

Right after I got done talking SEC football with Tim McGraw (and texting all of my friends, “I’ve been talking with Tim McGraw for the last twenty minutes about college football!”), Rod took me aside and gave me one of those serious the-police-are-outside-to-take-you-to-jail looks. “Listen,” he said. “You’re about to be hammered. They’re going to tell you something that will really shake you up. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I just

wanted to give you a warning, so brace yourself.”

What?

Thanks, Rod Phillips! I mean, what the heck did that mean? Was I about to get fired? You brought me out here to fire me? I imagined the worst flight home ever: being fired and then having to sit on a plane for two hours wondering why. I know it’s not customary for bosses to take their employees out to big fancy dinners and promo shoots if they are about to fire them, but common sense wasn’t floating around anywhere in my head in that moment.

It only got worse when I was taken over to a corner of the video shoot where huddled together was a group of bigwigs: Rod; John Ivey, the program director of KIIS FM in Los Angeles, one of the two biggest Top 40 stations in America; and Clay Hunnicutt, who was then the director of country for Clear Channel, were gathered around talking. They sat me down and said, “We want you to move to Nashville to be our national country morning show.”

And then I went deaf. Just like when something loud pops in your ears, I heard a loud beeeeeeep and then nothing after that. I was shocked. Their offer came out of nowhere for me. It was the last thing I was expecting. I really thought I was going to Nashville to pitch my Top 40 show, based in Austin, to any station manager who would listen—not to be asked if I wanted to broadcast the largest daily country morning show in the history of the format across tons of Clear Channel’s markets.

“Are you kidding?” was all I could manage to say. They took a picture of me as they asked me the question. In the photo, I’m pink haired (it was Breast Cancer Awareness Month) and my jaw was on the ground. I was shocked, sad, and slightly excited at the same time. In that order.

I didn’t say yes right away, not only because I was in shock but also because I really didn’t know how to feel about the offer. On the career side of things, I had built this entire “empire” in the pop format. It was a small empire, but it was definitely expanding. I had already accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to get a morning spot on Top 40 stations in New York or L.A. Elvis Duran and Ryan Seacrest had both just signed new contracts, and they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. They were giants. But I was content in continuing to grow from where I was. In addition to my regular morning gig, I had started cohosting a new national sports show on Fox Sports Radio with tennis champ Andy Roddick. (Let me sidebar on Andy, who in addition to having become one of my best friends is also one of the most obnoxious

and best humans in the entire world. That dude can be a real dick on the tennis court or golf course. But man, he is a quality human being. One of the best people I’ve ever met.)

Despite the fact that I was comfortable with what I had done in Austin, I wasn’t stupid. I recognized that there was much more room for me to grow inside of country—the biggest format in America and one in which I felt comfortable because of my background and my deep appreciation for the music. But there was one other major factor that kept me from jumping at the promotion: I loved Austin. I mean I really loved Austin.

I was supposed to hate it, because I’m from Arkansas, and when you grow up in Arkansas, you are taught to hate Texas. Texas is the bigger and better brother—particularly when it comes to sports. So as an Arkansas sports fan, I was pretty wary when I first moved to Austin. But the people there are so great. The city embraced us, which was particularly unbelievable for as cool a place as Austin to do to a small gang of—well—idiots, who had never done a morning show like ours. In a city where everyone is always trying to be the biggest hipster in the room, my approach was always to keep it real. I mean I- hang-out-at-Chili’s-and-shop-at-Walmart real. And people loved us for it. I couldn’t imagine anything better.

I thanked the Clear Channel execs, who expected me to answer “yes” right away, and immediately went back to my hotel room, where I called Betty.

“You’re not going to believe what just happened,” I said to her. “I was just offered a national show from Nashville. They want me to move here and be the national country guy.”

I know that it had to be hard for her to hear, because the offer meant I would have to move away. I already wasn’t the easiest boyfriend in the world; a long-distance relationship would only make things more difficult. Still, because she cared about me so much, her immediate reaction was to think only of me.

“You have to do it,” she said.

It’s crazy just how supportive and unselfish she was. I don’t have that inside of me. But she did. She didn’t need to think about it. In a beat, her response was “You have to take the job.”

I was scared—not to go to country, because that was awesome. And not to go to Nashville, because Nashville’s awesome. It was because I had to kick down everything I had spent the last seven years building from the ground up and start all over. It felt very much like the move from Little Rock to Austin.

I’d never been there before, but I had to do it. “You’re right,” I said to Betty. “I have to do it.”

A few days later, I told the execs at Clear Channel that my answer was yes. Of course, it wasn’t quite as simple as that. These kinds of offers are always followed by a lot of negotiating on both sides. One thing that wasn’t up for negotiation, however, was the rest of my crew on The Bobby Bones Show. I wasn’t coming unless all of the team could come too. If they wanted the show, well, Amy, Lunchbox, Ray, Eddie, and the rest of my crew were

the show. Thankfully, that wasn’t a sticking point.

Even though the gang had new jobs in Nashville if they wanted them, they still couldn’t know for a long time, which was weird for me. It went from uncomfortable to problematic when Amy and her husband picked a house to buy in Austin. Luckily (for me), something happened and the deal on the house fell through. But I went to Rod and said, “If we don’t tell Amy now, she’s going to buy another house.” So I got special dispensation to tell her months before everyone else. She was in immediately. Because for Amy, the bigger her platform, the more good she can do in the world. Also, despite how much the rest of us drive her nuts, she still likes being part of the gang. Crazy girl.

Eventually I was able to call in each person on the show one by one and tell them that I had some information I needed to share, but I had to have them sign a nondisclosure agreement first—which scared everyone. As soon as they had put pen to paper, I told them the news quickly. I didn’t take any pleasure from torturing people.

Except Lunchbox. He was the only person I messed with. “There’s going to be a lot of changes,” I said.

“What kind of changes?” he asked nervously. “The changes involve you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s tough for me to tell you this . . .”

I dragged it out forever. I took many deep breaths. I even faked a half cry.

It was an Oscar-worthy performance. I wish I had taped it! “I’m going to be leaving,” I said.

His eyes got real big.

“I’m really sorry that I have to leave. I don’t know what you’re going to do

. . . but I hope you’re going to come with me, because they’ve offered us a national show out of Nashville!”

He didn’t know whether to hug me or kill me. It was awesome.

On Monday, February 4, 2013, we formally announced that The Bobby Bones Show was moving to Nashville; Friday was our last show in Austin. I know this might not seem like big news to most of you reading this, but it made some waves in the city that built our radio show. As the Austin Chronicle’s Abby Johnston wrote about me: “He assembled his own dream team and turned KISS FM’s negligible ratings into a national goldmine, far outscoring any other local show. . . .

“The show feels like a conversation between friends, and that’s what kept me listening. I love to hate Lunchbox’s antiquated and misogynistic attitude toward women and his party-boy lifestyle. . . . Lunchbox’s foil, Amy, has captivated listeners with her struggle to have a child, and as she chokes up on air, I’ve shed tears with her. . . . Mostly, though, there’s Bobby, who through the years has revealed himself as one of the most genuine and open hosts on the radio.”

[koumikoumikoumi]

Kyousei review!

Almost 2 weeks after the premiere I finally mustered the courage to put my conflicting thoughts in text form. This will be a light review of the movie, no questions or meta will be included (I save those for separated posts to ease discussion). Ok, let’s go!

- First minutes were okay, nothing happened that we didn’t know before. The bird scene was creepy and I felt bad for the birdie (later in the movie I felt bad for the scared Meicoomon).

- Taichi saves Meiko (it’s okay, Yamato can’t always be the one to jump in)

- what the hell are you doing with that??? creepy lunatic Himekawa.

- Meicoomon really is a Digimon, phew!

- SHE HAS WHAT IN HER? oh sheeeet

- I’m gonna say it: everything Hackmon says makes total sense to me. I’d do the same if I was Homeostasis.

- It was funny seeing the children fall from disappearing cliffs.

- Eh.

- Really nice drawing! Because that’s what this is. No animation, just some splendid still-image.

- ........ I really should stop caring.

- By this time, the thought of this being pure ship tease occurred to me. (plus, WHAT A BRUTE GEEZ!!!!!)

- Look at this whiny baby! Papa JOUUUUU to the rescue

- In the cave, Meiko doubts about herself (understandable) and everyone talks about bonds between partners. She then doubts about being Meicoomon’s partner and why she was chosen (also understandable).

- Nice Butterfly instrumental while talking about partners and bonding. Hikari makes a nice empathic speech about being okay to be weak sometimes and ask for help.

- Stupid!Agumon interrupts. I can’t stand this guy in Tri.

- Hikari urges Meiko to believe in Meicoomon and to go save her (along with everyone). Meiko is still holding back and I really don’t get why.

- Hackmon serves Daigo some tea and calls him useless. I don’t 100% agree with him here but I’m a fan of this savage!

- Back in the real world, Taichi grabs Meiko’s hand to run because reasons.

- ?????????? what.was.this

- Jyou talking about his school record being stained! I love JOUUUUU

- Daigo presents himself with his full title position and I lost it x)

- “TAICHI WHY WON’T YOU DO ANYTHING”

- Meiko feels bad about herself and doubts about her role (again!). Everyone throws some more “partners and bonds” talk at her (this is getting annoying). Then they talk about hope, Takeru says nothing (okay then...?) and Meiko ignores them all.

- Takeru’s actually too busy asking the questions everyone should be asking. Koushiro suddenly remembers he has a brain capable of asking/answering questions and comes up with the idea of Meicoomon being a switch to make other digimon evil.

- Everyone dwells on it for a moment until they remember they’re hungry. They don’t seem to worry about this anymore for the rest of the movie.

- GHOST STORY TIME

JOUUUUU

- Yamato being scared of ghosts doesn’t fit my HC, but it was fun. Especially the air bass thing!

- More Meichi moments. Meiko keeps blaming herself but Taichi has had enough (at this point I have too). Agumon steps in and talks about liking Meicoomon without really knowing her. This makes no sense but it’s effective and Meiko finally cries.

- Meicoomon appears, DIGIVOLUTION FEST that I really enjoyed.

- JESMON AWESOME APPEARANCE.

- Everytime this guys comes up I get excited! Awesome voice actor btw.

- Fairy!Mimi!!!

- I remember Garudamon carrying the children in her hands....... oh well.

- Homeostasis possesses Hikari. Her saying there should never be sacrifices is rather laughable. And calling Homeostasis selfish is just the icing on the cake! Still, points for trying not to be a vessel anymore and standing up for what she believes.

- Man, I love him.

- In the DW follows a battle which no one really understands.

*SCREECHES IN EXCITEMENT*

- This is my favourite scene in the whole movie.

- Meanwhile things get heavy in the DW and Meiko asks the children to kill Meicoomon. I won’t lie, her words affected me a bit. The music is awesome too.

- TAICHI WHY WON’T YOU DO WHAT I WANT YOU TO. THAT IS TO ACT WHEN NEEDED, BUT OBVIOUSLY NOT NOW.

Jokes aside, Yamato getting angry when Taichi agrees to do something he himself punched him for a few years ago is ironic. Dude needs a chill pill and some of his old personality back.

- Meiko thanks them and starts running to Meicoomon. I swear to god!

- Everything falls apart and Daigo jumps to help Taichi. I think I’m starting to agree with Hackmon.

- Then Hikari gets possessed and Koushiro looks at his computer as if he knows exactly what is happening.

- Awesome moment when Ophanimon FM is born. Sadly we only got 1 min of her and then chaos ensued. Great nostalgia soundtrack.

- Ew and Wow and OMG, all at the same time. (why does she have legs when she definitely can’t walk with them!?)

- THE MUSIC. HELP MEEEEEE

- My babies are cute ^-^ apart from that, THE FEELS.

- New goggle boy is born but I’m sad he didn’t show any emotions. Same for catatonic Hikari, it goes according to my HC but I was expecting something different from her. Maybe next movie.

So yeah. I was expecting more answers, meaningful battles and a better pacing. Also, more Ophanimon FM and a thrilling Hikari part. But overall I liked it!

[eugesounds]

Back... and Forth

Like many folks, I usually take this time of year to count my blessings and reflect on highlights from the past 12 months. In scrolling through my social media timelines, the things that jump out most are how fortunate I am to have played so many fun gigs with terrific musicians, how blessed I am to have worked with so many talented students, and how lucky I was to have spent some time with family, both here and in the northeast.

In January I purchased a new car which was long overdo. I always say that cars are like computers; both are great until they stop working one day. My old Kia had no A/C, spare brakes, and a gazillion miles (I would have posted a definite number but the odometer stopped working in ‘16). I also started a “practice journal” which I kept up for most of the year (I’ll be posting about that later). 

In February I got to play at Ticket Stock, an annual event presented by my favorite radio station, 1310 AM/96.7 FM “The Ticket”. I am as they say a “day one, P1″, since I arrived in Dallas almost at the exact time that the Ticket started some 25 years ago. I listen daily and have gotten to meet and to know many of the show hosts. But getting a first hand view from “behind the curtain” made me appreciate the guys even more as I got to see up-close just how hard they all work to make their product seem effortless and fun.

In March Gracie and I took in the “hyper-realistic” sculptures of Ron Mueck. I love visiting museums and this show at the Fort Worth Modern did not fail to amaze and inspire. In April Captain and Camille played a few big private functions including a wedding in Waco, TX. Gracie and I made it a fun little “getaway” by dipping our toe into the AirB&B water to great success, and we even spent some time visiting the Silos area and a handful of fun shops and restaurants. I am a lucky boy to have Lady Sax as a traveling partner as she is not afraid to tag along on my many crazy excursions. :)

In May I traveled solo to visit my mom in New England. At 97 she is still kicking along with a good attitude and generally good health... 3 cheers for genetics! Aside from seeing mom and hanging out with my big sister Nancy, a highlight of the trip was taking a long walk at dusk around Westboro Country Club where I had spent so many wonderful hours with my dad. In June I played a bunch of gigs including another memorable wedding with my brother from another mother Mike Finkel, guitarist Chris Holt, drummer John Bryant, bassist and singer Bach Norwood and Captain and Camille’s own Michelle Sanguinetti.

By July Captain and Camille was hitting a nice stride, playing lots of fun shows with some new (vintage 70′s) material. The momentum carried into August with a private “lake home” bash hosted by our friend Scott Cecil who owns the Barley House near the campus of SMU in Dallas. Scott and his venue have been very, very good for our band, providing a steady “residency” and in turn creating good buzz that has led to a handful of terrific private shows. The band also added a new venue in far north Dallas. This was something we wanted and had been working on for some time. The Box Garden at Legacy Hall met and exceeded our expectations. They simply do a great job of taking care of their bands; from parking and load in, to sound and eats, they succeed at every turn.

In September Gracie and I headed to the Jersey Shore to spend some time at my brother Corky’s place just a couple blocks from the beach in Ocean City. Cork and I took a quick ride up to visit my mom one day, but otherwise, Gracie and I simply enjoyed a solid week of down time at the beach. Even though it rained pretty much every day, it turned out to be a fun and relaxing get away. As usual, Corky and his wife Peggy were amazing hosts. I was recharged and ready for the long push toward the end of the year. In October I focused on teaching, practicing (both saxophone and golf!), playing a bunch of gigs, and cooking some really yummy new dishes with Lady Sax.

Captain and Camille was back at the Box Garden in November, and though it was a chilly evening, we played one of our more memorable shows to a packed house. The Thanksgiving break from teaching provided some nice down time before a busy December that included a few big private gigs, student performances, and a new playing opportunity for me. 

I had seen the Bastards of Soul a few times as Captain and Camille drummer Matt Trimble plays with them as well. And when they were left in a bind with no sax player, I was flattered and honored that my name came up as an option. I was unsure how Lady Sax might feel about me taking on another gig (and hence encroaching on more of our date nights) but to my delight she was all for it as she knew it was an opportunity I relished. 

It was a great challenge to play a few Bastards shows with no rehearsal and only limited practice time, but aside from one false start and a couple fuzzy endings, I think things came off as well as can be expected. I really look forward to playing more shows with them this year. 

2018 ended fittingly, with Captain and Camille at Barley House (see photo above). It was a sold-out private party with many of our closest friends and it couldn't have been a better evening. The stage looked great, our sound-man Jeremy did a great job, and the staff a Barley were outstanding. 

I start the year recharged and ready to focus on my teaching and practicing as I have no gigs scheduled for the next couple of weeks. I’ve made plans to have my horn worked on by the master Greg Dunihoo (aka the “sax whisperer”) and I look forward to seeing how ’19 unfolds.

Happy new year!

[wickedpact]

You can't just drop that "I read Forces Multiplied" bomb on us and not give a ten page written reaction.

[cracks knuckles] if u insist

nicky cant drive hc: destroyed. rip. also i loved how andy and nile stole those sports cars and were being badass and driving off the bridge & meanwhile joe and nicky were just absolutely vibing in the van

'heres the thing about power: people who have it think they deserve it' [shot of police car] i see u greg

5 whole panels being dedicated to booker not being able to unlock his door. booker not even seeing noriko sitting RIGHT THERE in the window at first. incredible

noriko being 24/7 horny was surprising. like wow all of the stuff i saw she did out of context was 100% equally horny in context as it was out of context. love that for her

i didnt think the 'andy + slavery' thing was handled as badly as everyone made it out to be when telling me about it. tho from the way it was talked about i had kind of figured the conflict between andy and nile re: slavery would be really racially charged (esp considering nile is a black american and would obvs have Thoughts on the subject in that regard) but like,, done in a cringey 'a-white-guy-obviously-wrote-it' kind of way? but it wasnt that. i mean. it makes sense that andy would be implicit in slavery through the years

i mean, like she says, is that not what people just did to each other in the aftermath of battles for thousands of years? and i really like how its pointed out that it was what she was raised with (in the beginning when you see her put shackles on that guy after the battle) but she also accepts responsibility for it and acknowledges that it was wrong and not just 'what people did'.

i like how from her expressions you can kind of tell baby andy knew it was off but she sets those feelings aside bc she felt angry. it explains how she felt but didnt make her out to be blameless in it. plus i mean. i dont know, the fact that andy was involved in a lot of morally shady stuff for 7000 years is not that wild for me. if you live that long youre just Going to be involved in some shit, and she didnt even have other immortals with her as positive community influences, she literally just did whatever the fuck she wanted for thousands of years

'i was worshipped as a god once' i mean, yeah no shit she wouldve been involved in some seriously fucked up stuff, gods were fucking scary back in the day

tldr it could use some polish but it wasnt that bad

tho everything people said about moose being boring was unfortunately a little true. sorry king i tried to be interested in you

joe and nicky writing verbal fanfiction about nile and moose was iconic. 'you seeing that?' 'i am definitely seeing that'

it was also extremely funny bc that was like 60% of their contribution to the whole comic, besides kidnapping copley. they came, they wrote some fanfic, they left. kings. at least in tog1 they had an excuse to be useless bc they got kidnapped

joe just found out his old friend who he thought was dead is alive (and also probably wants to murder them) and instead of investigating with andy he stopped to help nile up. champ.

nicky shooting noriko through andy was cool. rip to the concept since it wont happen in tog2

wanna see mr ejiofor deliver this line

on that note imo copley was. weirdly enough, more interesting in fm than in tog1. to me at least. the fact that andy let him live and he was so haunted by what had happened that he came back and sought them out despite knowing they would likely kill him for it bc he wanted to not only make up for what hed done but also to tell them what theyd done for the world was admittedly more interesting than andy just kind of drafting him to the cause and him going 'okie'

i like how nicky was drawn in this one. in opening fire he looks like a blob man but in fm he looks more like a very nice grampa with a very good dye job

'theres no pain like a broken heart' andy 🥺

noriko implying andy's never drowned. .. .idk about that one, she musta drowned sometime

joe and nicky came, they waxed poetic about nile's love life, they waxed poetic about grog, and then they left.

sports bras being a reason humanity is good. i mean..... okay, yeah.

i mean. wild but you cant exactly tell her shes wrong

i liked how noriko telling andy that their purpose is to make people suffer coincides with joe and nicky finding out that they actually did good all those years

joenicky in opening fire: jail for booker jail for booker for 100 years

joenicky when copley tells them he knows where booker is: WE'LL KILL YOU WHERE IS HE

joenicky when copley comes back: if your vibes come off as even remotely rancid we Will destroy you

joenicky 2 minutes later when copley helped them find booker: he made up some ground :)))) <3 lov you j cops

theyre forgiving af

moose: how old are you?? a hundred??? a thousand???

nile [vine voice]: I M 2 7 ?

alright andy you got me there

joe texts like my aunt

i dont know why noriko drowning andy in that car tickled me. Bad And Naughty Andromaches Get Put In The Pear Wiggler To Atone For Their Crimes.

the drowning sequence was cool

copley trying to talk to andy while she was like o_o at him was great

ive hit the picture limit but id seen that panel where nicky goes 'forgive me' as he kills a guy out of context and it was HILARIOUSLY anticlimactic for me to discover that there was literally no context to it. nicky just apologizes to random people he kills. i thought that guy was someone he knew or something. nope its just Some Guy that nicky didnt know from adam

nile's complaint that andy was especially brutal to the guys on the boat... i mean. . , how exactly does one kill a man with an axe and not be brutal about it?

it was funny how noriko kissed andy and the only people who seemed surprised by that were nile and also andy

nicky and joe's complete non-reaction to finding out noriko is alive And Evil Now is endlesly funny. they just left her on that boat and neither cared. i get book and nile not caring but joe and nicky knew her, and they just have 0 input on the subject of what to do with her

pinstripe suit guy!

joe and nicky and booker packing up and leaving with nile

andy blowing up at nile was A Moment tho

i dont know, i get why people didnt like the ending but its. .. . it makes more sense in the comicverse. bc the squad doesnt really. .. interact outside of jobs? i mean, think of the moon landing story in ttt. that was booker and joe and nicky doing a job and andy only showed up a for a couple minutes after it was done. or the brunch in the first issue of opening fire. the squad arent as tight in the comic, and andy often seems to do her own thing outside of work, so andy saying 'i dont want to do work anymore' and the squad being like 'alright bye then' makes more sense in this universe than the movie one

also i feel like greg was Trying to set up a thing where nile becomes the Leader of The Squad after andy dies but like. its not very well done since. . . i mean, nile hasnt spoken to booker since opening fire, (and she only knew him A Day). and shes known joe and nicky all that time, but there isnt really anything that indicates that they have any relationship at all, much less one that's grown. in all the comicverse the only time nile and nicky speak is in FM, and in that scene nicky tells nile about noriko. nile goes from someone who needs to be set aside to have background knowledge explained to her to being the Leader of the group with nothing in between. it kind of... comes out of nowhere.

on the other hand tho... i felt really bad for andy thru the whole thing. well, i always felt bad for andy, but in this one she seemed so miserable, especially since it really felt like none of the others actually.... cared about her. when noriko came back no one asked andy how she was doing (big question ik, but it wouldve showed they cared at least), nobody ever expressed any concern for her, no one even really seemed to want to be around her. in opening fire everyone was more distant than in the movie of course, but there were little moments where she would joke with joe, or nicky would try and comfort her, or stuff like that, but in FM it really felt like they just didnt really care about her. & in opening fire it felt a lot like andy's relationship with nile breathed some new life into her, but in FM it felt like all they did was argue. i get theyre not *as* close in the comics but it really felt like the only person who cared about andy at all was noriko (which was probably also how andy felt) but it just seemed to come out of nowhere. honestly i was reading and i was honestly agreeing with andy that she might just be better off if she did just die. opening fire, on the other hand, never make me feel that way

tho everyone made it sound like when the squad split up it was one of those cursed 'the found family leaves each other at the end of the journey' tropes. but guys i mean,,, this is the second installment out of three. that isnt the End. theyll come back in the third one and Dramatically Reunite to fight some baddies (probably those 'others' noriko mentioned). im guessing yitzhak fits into that too somehow.

anyways it wasnt That Bad but it made me kind of sad and the only Sweet Found Family vibes in it were when they saved booker. also they shouldve beefed up that nilemoose romance, it underwhelmed me. 6.5/10

i also ABSOLUTELY understand all of greg's comments about how you couldnt make FM directly into a movie, he always said that it had no plot and. i get it now. it really didnt have a plot sdfghjkl