sell your records

I’m still trying to get back into the groove of writing and figure out how to write Harry, but I hope you all enjoy this angsty blurb!

read my other harry blurbs here / request harry blurbs (I’m taking requests for awhile to get some inspiration)

Your chest heaved as your tired eyes focused on Harry across from you. The angry words exchanged between the two of you earlier hung in the air, and neither of you knew where to go from here.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

Your eyes flickered to the decorated table in the sitting area, his favorite meal laid upon the plates that remained untouched.

“I wanted one night, Harry.”

Anger flashed through his eyes. “I already told you ‘m sorry!”

Your fists clenched and you narrowed your eyes. “Bull fucking shit! You always do this! Ever since you came home, you’re always too busy a-“

“’s my job!” He bellowed, slamming his fist on the countertop.

You stepped closer, until your chests were nearly touching and hissed. “Drinking till 2 am with Niall isn’t your job!”

He loomed over you, straightening his back, but you refused to let him intimidate you.

“This is what I was trying to avoid! ’s why I told yeh not to get involved with me! All of this could’ve been avoided!”

You took a step back and swallowed thickly. “You don’t mean that.”

He groaned. “Yes, I do!”

You angrily wiped a tear. “What happened?”

His brows furrowed. “What happened when?”

“When you were gone! What changed?”

He shook his head and his shoulders slumped. “Y/N-“

“Tell me what happened! Tell me why everything changed!” You screamed, slamming your fist on the counter.

His eyes softened when they met yours and he sighed. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough, Harry!”

“’s just too much knowing you’re back home waiting for me.”

Your throat burned. “Don’t you fucking dare try and blame this on me.”

“’s the truth! I didn’t have anyone waiting for me before an-“

“Stop being a coward!” You screamed, poking him in the chest.

“I don’t love yeh anymore!” He yelled, his words adding a new layer of tension to the atmosphere.

Your vision blurred and you reached for your car keys.

“Y/N-“ He reached for your wrist, but you jerked your arm from his burning touch.

“Stop!” You wiped at your eyes. “You know what your problem is, Harry? You’re so damn afraid of your own feelings that you’re always running when things get too serious! You act like you’re in touch with your feelings, but that’s all bullshit to sell your damn record! You’re a coward!”

He reached out to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Don’t touch me!” You spat.

You took one last look at him in the dimly lit kitchen. “I hope one day you figure out what’s holding you back, but it’ll be too late for us by then.” You swallowed thickly and looked at him over your shoulder. “Goodbye Harry.”

Shorty •Bucky Barnes

It had been a good day. You had known about today’s mission for a while now and had made sure that you trained, ate and drank well before you leave with Bucky, Tony, and Natasha. You woke up from the sun shining on your face, took a nice warm shower, got suited for the mission went down to have breakfast. That was where it had all gone wrong. The elevator had gone out, so you had to go down three floors by stairs. When you did make it to the main floor where the others already were, they had already put breakfast away. When you looked for (Y/F/C) it was on the top shelf. You turned around to see everyone watching you in amusement. You rolled your eyes and got on top of the counter and grabbed the box.

“James, i swear if you put my cereal on the top shelf one more time, i’m selling your vinyl records.” You muttered angrily as you poured the milk in the bowl. You grabbed a spoon, but stayed where you were, digging into the bowl.

“It’s not my fault you were born to be as tall as a 4th grader.” Bucky laughed, making everyone else tried to hide theirs even more.

Not true. You were only 5'2, which is kind of close to the average hight. It seemed like everything was going wrong. You’ll be damned if the mission does too.

•••••••••

Everything was going according to plan, surprisingly. Every agent that came your way with an octopus on their chest was another group down. No one had yet gotten around you and towards the computer toom, where Natasha was extracting data.

“(Y/N), Natasha, we have trouble. There’s a group of men, maybe 50, coming your way. Get out of there. They got Tony in another room, we need to meet up.” Bucky said as quickly as possible over the com’s.

“Bucky, did you just say Tony is stuck here and that we need to leave? That’s not gonna happen.” You said, outraged he would even suggest that.

“I mean we need to devise a plan before we try to get him back.” He explained himself. I sighed and fought off the last agent i saw before rushing Natasha in front of me.

Before i could really do anything, Natasha was sunk into the floor. Literally. The floor opened up, making her fall down into a black whole before it shut. You raised your gun and looked around you.

Everything was quiet. The coms, the hallways, even the noise outside stopped, making you think this is a trap.

“Bucky, they got Nat.” No answer.

“Bucky?” Nothing. You tried a couple more times before giving up, admitting to yourself that everyone had been taken. Except you. Did HYDRA know that you’re here? Or did they forget that you too are very important and are included on these missions.

You huffed angrily and started checking every floor, every room, every hole in the wall or the hidden doors in the floor. Nothing.

You finally found the three avengers in the basement of the basement. You assessed the situation quickly. All three of them were tied to chairs with at least 20 men with guns surrounding them. You took a deep breath before slamming the door open and shooting anyone that came in sight. You didnt care about anything but your family at this point. Nothing was worth more than getting them back home safetly.

When all of the men had finally been killed, you limped to Natasha’s side and unlatched her ties, then doing the same to the guys. They were both knocked out, so Natasha took Tony while you dragged Bucky. It took two miles before you reached the jet. By the time you had, Tony had awoken, but not Bucky.

You hadn’t realized the two bullet wounds in your body, one on your hip and one grazing your shoulder. You set Bucky down next to the medical bed in the middle of the jet before sitting down with a grunt. Your sore bones and muscles ached in pain and it wasn’t too long before you fell asleep.

•••••••••••

You woke up to the sound of a heart monitor. A warmth around your hand made you calm down as you opened your eyes to the blinding brightness

“Ya know, i thought you were gonna leave us to go get help. But you fought them all. For us.” A soft voice said in gratitude. You opened your eyes and smiled at the brow haired soldier with a hum before painfully sitting up on the uncomfortable bed, rubbing your eyes of tiredness.

Bucky sat across from you on your right, your hand still in his.

“Now you know that i can do great things even though im small.” You said quietly.

“Oh doll, i already knew that.”

CAN stop, WILL stop. not letting these fuckers ruin my life again. most addicts wouldn’t be able to control themselves using 2 and 1mg kpins to taper off xanax, including me. but I have too much on the line this time, that high miraculously isn’t worth it at the moment, esp since it’s a high I can’t even get with my tolerance back up to 100. this time it was those lil pearly white rectangles with that infamous “GG” imprint and those lil yellow rectangles that have that curly “R” imprint that the xan nation lovingly refer to as “school busses”… this time it was those two specific rectangles, in large quantities, that ran my life since I got out of rehab almost two months ago (least it wasn’t those punk ass green hulk posers that used to always fake me out reppin themselves as 2mg when really they were 4 or 5). mr. xanax, aka alprazolam aka “peace in 10 minutes” aka “sell your dad’s beloved record collection and you can have 12mg of me” aka “you need to find at least 10 bucks for me in the next hour unless you wanna feel suicidal all day or have one of those amazing panic attacks or maybe even a seizure with the way you been eating me by the handful”: like every binge we’ve had our good days and our bad days. but it’s time to say goodbye until i’d like to say the end of eternity but we both know that’s total bullshit.

goodbye until i at least have my shit together enough to the point where we can be casual friends on a friday night every few weeks, not master and slave 24/7. goodbye until you meet me not in the hands of that sketchy tweaker who sells you to fund her ice habit but until you meet me in an orange bottle with my name on it (come to me baby). seriously though, this ain’t workin out just like it always ain’t workin out. since I’m benzo blessed enough to have your cousin klonopin aka clonazepam in one of those orange bottles with my name on it, I’m using him to get away from you safely. you ain’t worth it right now bro. i won’t see you next week or the next. shit i pray to god i won’t see you in the next 48 hours and i don’t believe in god.

Vintage- A Peter Parker Imagine


Anonymous Requested: Could I request a Peter Parker one where the reader is a nerd who collects vintage things, old computers, records, things like that and is friends with Parker. And for her birthday he fixes an old record player and plays a sweet song for her. Lots of fluff please!!!!!! P.S you writing is 10000000000% awesome

I thought it’d be funny to throw in a character based off of me, since I used to work at a thrift store and it was absolute hell. I hope you find the character based off of me funny! Thanks! I also love the song, and based the record player off of the one that I bought!

Vintage

The crinkling sound of a record player had been a sound you had grown to love. It reminded you of your childhood where all your parents had was an old record player, which caused you to fall in love with old songs. You lived for the old fashioned romance of the 20th century, but times eventually grew hard when you grew older, so you had to sell your record player and records. You always went garbage diving with your friend Peter and you patrolled thrift stores for vintage things; not only because they were all you could afford, but because you loved the vintage feel of everything you owned.

Your room was littered with all of things that you had found and purchased. Your computer was completely ancient and your keyboard was a different color since you had purchased them separately. Your fashion sense had always been eighties inspired with floral jackets and skirts with knee high boots. Peter had always admired the way that you lived; you were so incredibly humble because your upbringing. You never thought you were better than anyone, and you were accepting of absolutely anyone. Besides, who were you to judge?

Keep reading

*everyone asks Dallon if he’s still a member of P!ATD on Twitter*

Dallon:

Me: is that a reference to his member status…???! :O

Dallon: *changes bio*

Me: !!!!??? SAME AS IT EVER WAS? NO. DID YOU FORGET THAT YOU WROTE SONGS FOR P!ATD AND CONTRIBUTED SICK BASS LINES, YOU WERE IN THE STUDIO RECORDING BASS FOR TWTLTRTD AND YOU USED TO BE IN INTERVIEWS AND MUSIC VIDEOS SOMETIMES. YOU USED TO BE AN OFFICIAL MEMBER OF P!ATD. IT’S NOT THE “SAME AS IT EVER WAS”. DON’T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT