Winter 1992 Mixtape.
Boogie Down Productions “Duck Down”
Grand Puba “Fat Rat”
A Tribe Called Quest “Jazz (We Got The…)”
Eric B & Rakim “Know The Ledge”
Cypress Hill “Duke Of Earl”
Lord Finesse “Return Of The Funkyman”
Naughty By Nature “Everything’s Gonna’ Be Alright (Ghetto Bastard)”
Shabba Ranks “The Jam” (f. KRS-One)
MC Serch “Back To The Grill Again” (f. various artists)
D-Nice “Time To Flow”
X Clan “Fire & Earth (100% Natural)”
Digital Underground Sons Of The P
A Tribe Called Quest“Butter”
Nice & Smooth “How To Flow”
TLC “Ain’t 2 Proud To Beg”
Cypress Hill “How I Could Just Kill A Man”
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shoutouts to @byjuxtaposition, @greenleaf-starbright and @everyonewasabird for the inspo!
Imagine…
For something that is meant to be a lot of fun, this wedding is an absolute drag. You don’t know anyone apart from your date, and it’s such a weird mix of people that you don’t feel like generally mingling will meet with a lot of success. It feels like two people decided they wanted a blowout celebration but couldn’t actually scrape together enough friends between them to make it work, with the result that the vibes are just off.
And no, it doesn’t help that Theodule has mysteriously vanished after offering to get you another drink. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend—the relationship consists mostly of cheeky handjobs when his elderly relatives aren’t looking—but if you’re going to invite someone to a party, the least you can do is pay attention to them.
Nor is it exactly a secret where he’s gone. He’s been making eyes at the bride all evening, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s off renewing their acquaintance.
Bored and not quite drunk enough, you make your way over to what is, at least, a hefty drinks table, to procure some more prosecco. Standing there, surrounded by total strangers, you suddenly feel sharply and quite sadly alone.
“Excuse me,” a soft, oily voice behind you says, and you turn, preparing to make boring, polite conversation.
What you see takes your breath away.
The man before you isn’t exactly good-looking. Twenty years ago he might have been mid, and that’s quite a strong might. There isn’t even anything you can discernibly pin down about his features that make them unappealing, apart from the slightly greasy sheen to his skin and the faint yet noticeable stains on his shirt.
And yet.
Moments ago you were feeling hopelessly alone, adrift in the world. It was just you and your prosecco and no one else understood. And then this man—this creature—looked you in the eye and you abruptly felt seen and recognised, right down to your bones, in a way you never had been before.
“Hi,” you say, oddly breathy.
The man’s eyes slowly travel up and down your body, lingering an almost uncomfortable length of time before returning to meet your gaze. “My wife and I saw you from across the room,” he says, and there’s something about his voice, simultaneously oily yet grating, that absolutely drives you wild, “and we were wondering if we could get you a drink.”
Feeling a smile spreading across your face, you theatrically set your glass down and then gesture with both hands that there’s something missing. “Of course. I’m Y/N.”
“Thenardier,” he says, offering you his arm. “But you can call me Nardy.”
~
for a modern AU threesome, try this imagine
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As the jewels jingle from the hot young and single little stunt;
A forty and a blunt, that's all she really wants.
But she'll spend your papes and she'll use up all your plastic,
And if you swing an ep', you'd better wear a prophylactic.
'Cause things are getting drastic;
Slide up in the wrong one, you'll end up in a casket.
Brand Nubian - Slow Down
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