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simpjaes · 3 months

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how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice

tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!

wc: 1k

looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.

who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.

then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.

Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?

Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.

So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.

Jay sure is a fucking asshole.

"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.

"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.

After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?

Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.

Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.

And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.

Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.

"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.

You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.

"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.

"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.

You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.

Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.

And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.

"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."

You just kind of look at him.

"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.

"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"

You smirk.

"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."

"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."

"What can I say? He moves fast."

"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"

You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.

"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"

Man, he elaborated.

Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.

What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.

In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.

The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.

By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.

Why?

Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,

"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."

And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.

"Me."

#heeseung smut #enha smut #enhypen smut #ask #anon #hardthots

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idsb · 2 months

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okay so I just saw a tiktok about this and it had like, 20 views, so I'd just like to post here and raise some awareness here about how UMG's greed has now extended from shitty merch, to the exciting new ~*fucking over indie record stores*~ as well!!!!

A record store in upstate NY just kind of whistle-blew about this, by announcing the fact that they were only just now able to take preorders for The Tortured Poets Department. In their post, they explained that they'd be able to take orders from March 14th, but couldn't openly post about it or share that info until March 18th - after opening weekend of The Eras Tour Movie on streaming (aka an added boost of attention to Taylor and therefore, preorder sales). In this post, they fully blamed UMG for this, and also noted that the prices in their store are going to look incredibly more expensive than buying directly from UMG and Taylor's online merch store (Taylor's online merch store, which, notably, people are losing trust in for preorders due to the fact that for most people, the albums are consistently not arriving until over a month after the album release day). Why are the indie store's prices going to be so much more expensive? Well, that's because, instead of selling the albums to record stores at wholesale (a lower price a manufacturer sells to retail stores at so that the sellers can make a profit, which how it works for literally any retail store selling anything in the history of all retail stores), UMG is charging record stores FULL RETAIL VALUE on Tortured Poets Department CD's and vinyls in order to sell them. This means in order to make ANY kind of profit, indie stores have to add on $10+ to the price as compared to what Taylor's merch store, aka UMG, is directly selling it at. Leaving a customer who discovers this to either feel scammed by the indie store, or just purchase it from Taylor's store / UMG directly online instead.

I do not think Taylor, miss free surprise shipments of signed folklore's sent out to indie record stores to make sure they stay afloat during the pandemic, miss donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to Nashville based indie record stores to keep them open during the pandemic, would be very happy about any of this. I also know it's going to get blamed on her, and lumped in with some "a million vinyl variants billionaire greed", rhetoric, and it makes me so damn sad when I know it's the exact opposite of what she'd want. I'm happy she gets to own her masters but holy shit am I sad that she has less control over the things that actually matter in terms of fan consumerism, and I hope she is too and I hate that she is effectively powerless to fix it because big corporation music industry greedy label capitalism.

Fuck UMG. Fuck UMG to hell and back. Fuck them for screwing over fans, fuck them for screwing over small businesses and the dying breed of brick and mortar locations just to line their multi-billion dollar corporation pockets more than they already are. Fuck the fact that they wouldn't even need to do this if they just provided quality products that they shipped on time, but they'd rather squeeze out every last penny and don't care who they screw over in the process.

#Taylor swift #taylor nation

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ghcstao3 · 6 months

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based on the addition of this because i think it’s silly

It didn’t look my different from the other tapes, and that’s about as far as Ghost’s defence goes.

Dated and labelled accordingly as is every other tape in the box Ghost had unearthed while digging through his old things, he hardly thinks to be deterred by something titled Tommy’s wedding—it sounds perfectly normal, a happy glimpse into a life Ghost misses dearly from time to time, and he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t show Soap what had been recorded of a great memory.

The tapes were the only way Soap would ever get to know the Riley family, and Ghost supposes the wedding would be the perfect captured moment.

Except, whoever penned the label on the VHS thought it’d be real funny to betray the organization system just to play some practical joke on whoever decided to put the tape into the player more than a decade down the line.

Normally, Ghost might blame Tommy—but once the incriminating footage begins to play, the fault is obviously on Beth, because no one else would have ever had the need to see this tape in particular.

Soap immediately curls back into Ghost’s side as he returns to the couch, content to watch as he had all the other tapes Ghost had decided to show—a gentle fondness is inscribed into his expression as grainy chatter fills the space, a soft smile on his lips as a camera is shakily—and stealthily—set up in one of Tommy’s old mate’s living rooms.

Ghost frowns. Because distantly he recognizes the scene as Tommy’s stag, and not at all the wedding.

Though, he supposes, to lend credit—the precursor, ceremony, and reception could very well all just be mashed onto one tape. It’s what Ghost presumes, anyway, until he hears playful jeering and the clunky click of someone pressing play on a CD player.

It happens too fast, and realization comes much too slow as Tommy and a younger Simon appear just off-centre of the screen, entirely unaware of the camera pointed at them. Simon hears the first notes of the song and scrambles for the remote—only to find that Soap is holding it out of his reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he seems to come to some sort of revelation, too.

Ghost narrows his eyes. Commands, voice low, “Pause it, Johnny.”

Soap grins. “Don’t think so.”

It’s too late, anyhow.

Ghost is well and truly fucked as the Spice Girls’ Wannabe filters through his TV’s speakers. He’s never been so mortified.

He wishes he could melt into the couch along with his shame, watching his brother and younger self dance to the song in the same way they’d choreographed when the thing first came out. As stupidly drunk as they were at the time of the video playing on screen, Ghost is surprised they remembered any of it at all.

Any being too much, of course.

Soap only pauses when the song comes to an end, looking to Ghost expectantly, biting his cheek to surely keep from bursting into laughter then and there.

Ghost refuses to look him in the eye.

“We were pissed,” Ghost grumbles. “Bachelor party.”

“You still remember the dance?” Soap goads.

Ghost turns to glare at him. “Johnny.”

“What?” Soap’s face twitches. “Just a question. Of which you didn’t answer.”

Ghost folds his arms petulantly across his chest. How he wishes Beth were still around so he could get revenge for this embarrassing incident. Beyond embarrassing, really.

“No, I don’t.” Yes, he does. “A word of this to anyone and you’re dead, Tav.”

“Aw.” Soap folds back into Ghost’s side, and Ghost could never deny the way he softens, even if just a bit. Soap trails a palm from Ghost’s bicep to his forearm, almost soothing if his only intention wasn’t to tease. “You don’t mean tha’.”

“I do,” Ghost insists, but really, he’s always been a bad liar.

Soap shakes his head. “Nah,” he sighs. “But… I won’t tell anyone, swear. So long as I get to see you do that dance—otherwise this tape is getting rewound and shipped to Gaz with the VCR.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Mhm,” Soap hums. “But only out of love, see.”

Ghost rolls his eyes. He plucks the remote from Soap’s hand and presses stop, not wanting to risk any more condemning footage appear. Perhaps he’ll have to start going through these tapes by himself first, from now on.

“Well, out of love I’ll let you live. How’s that?”

Soap smiles up at him, reaching up an arm to pat Ghost’s cheek twice. “Might be able to convince me.”

Ghost huffs. Convince he must, then.

He knows Beth and Tommy would’ve found this hilarious, the pricks.

In another life, he supposes.

#scheduled #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

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skxllz · 5 months

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𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

warnings; fluff !! + slight angst? + ooc lip

side note; I got bored 😋

“ you like j cole? ” lip was going through your collection of cd's to listen to —you made it a tradition at this point to lay up in your bed on friday nights, and just stare at the ceiling while music plays in the background— when he discovered the plain, azo cd scribbled with black sharpie. usually you picked the songs or album of choice, so of course lip wasn't aware that you listened to this particular artist.

“ yeah... ” you trailed off, raising a brow questionably as you looked up from your notebook. you had been coloring a scooby doo picture to pass the time. “ so what? ” your gum popped, then smacked obnoxiously.

lip scowled at the sound but didn't comment on it, “ ... ‘s nothing. just haven't heard ‘im in a while. ” his head turned towards you over his shoulder, his chlorine eyes meeting your own while he bounced his brows; spinning the cd between his thumb and forefinger. “ wanna’ listen? ”

shrugging, you sat up from the position had been lying in on your stomach; capping the brown marker you used to color over scooby's body. “ sure. don't see why not. ”

the male whistled in reply, only to lean over and press a button on your stereo. a clip noise sounded, before the tray to the cd player popped open and slid out.

lip took out the cd you had labeled songs to sleep to <3, and sat it aside, before popping in the j cole mix. it was random songs you had collected on your computer over the years and decided to burn just the year before.

as the tray was slid back in and the first song whirred to life, lip got up from his criss-crossed position on the floor and walked over to your bed. plopping down, the bed slightly bouncing, making two of your markers to thump up and slide - only to fall onto the floor.

you lightly shoved him for that.

“ hey! ” he laughed, throwing his hands up, “ ‘t was an accident! chill out, pup. ”

“ oh fuck off, ” you blew out your tongue at him, while leaning over to pick up the turquoise and black colored markers. only then as you sat up did ‘ work out ’ start playing.

your head whipped around to lip and both of you guys’ eyes widened. surprisingly enough, you both loved this song.

getting comfy, you nestled back into the wall back first. bringing the coloring page into your lap, while lip laid down and got comfortable on your bed. he folded each of his arms behind his head and smiled to himself, silently voicing the lyrics in his head.

“ ya’ know, this song reminds me of us, ” your voice suddenly met his ears while the back n’ forth of markers against paper could be heard. “ we got a good thing, don't we? ”

lip's smile slightly faded, but then he chuckled, his eyes panning onto your figure. the way your hair fell into your eyes made you look rather... cute. “ yeah. we do got a good thing. ”

a small grin tugged at the corner of your mouth, “ good enough for you to be my man? ” the question was cocky and unexpected, and you knew this — that's why your eyes darted to look up from your picture, to study your friend's expression.

to say the least, he was shocked. eyes wide, lips parted in... you weren't sure if it was awe, or surprise- it sure was somethin’. but lip just stared. he looked gobsmacked. and usually, he was never rendered speechless, that's why you suddenly regretted saying anything.

“ uh, ” you cleared your throat. “ forget I said anythi— ”

“ no, no- ” lip sat up abruptly. his hands shot out, grabbing onto the arm that moved to gather your markers that slid down rhe bed- he thought you were going to leave.

what a silly thought, really. it was your room. your house.

“ i- uh- did you mean that? ” aquamarine eyes blinked rather innocently at you, the look he had screaming smitten. what an odd look for lip gallagher to wear. “ being your man? do you really want me, being your man? ”

your brows furrowed. “ lip- of course. ” you dropped the markers from your hold, arm lifting to palm at his cheek. cradling his face gently, you made sure to firmly hold his jaw, “ I... wouldn't say something like that as a joke. I know how sensitive you are to this shit. I'm not an asshole. ”

swallowing thickly. brows pinching together, skin meeting roughly in the center. he looked choked up, but you said nothing about it. lip's pride got in the way, way too much — if you pointed out how vulnerable he was being, he'd surely reel back. you'd let him come to you.

and he did. lip circled his arms around your neck, and pulled you close. your own arms met around his back and hugged tightly; not daring to release.

“ I got you... ” you mumbled. “ we got a good thing, remember? ”

#lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher blurb #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #shameless #shameless us

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rasparagus · 1 year

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still into you

pairing: vernon x reader

content: friends to lovers, that’s all, very short very vanilla, one sentence that references a suggestive moment but nothing detailed or serious

word count: 608, really short, will literally take u less than 5 minutes to read

masterlist

it started back in freshman year of college, when vernon used to slip corny little notes under your dorm room door, a small sheet of paper awaiting you almost daily on the floor when you got back from class. all it took was a post-it note in his rushed, awful handwriting to erase your mind of petty professors and clueless classmates. to this day (and without vernon’s knowledge) you keep a little envelope, convincingly and vaguely labelled ‘bills n stuff’ that houses every single note you received from him. you still giggle at his aversion to the sentimental, his letters often containing a list of songs or an endearing hand-drawn meme rather than something silly like a little poem about your love.

of course, that isn’t when your love for him started—you have been positively in love with him since high school, which sadly neither of you recognized at the time. rather, university was when your sense of your relationship’s longevity began to bloom. somehow, in between fighting for your life in the coed dorms and downing bottom-shelf liquor at frat parties, you managed to keep one thing constant in that whirlwind of firsts and never-agains. friends you met in college were routinely amazed at your long-lasting friendship. friends you’d had since high school waited for a dating announcement with bated breath, anticipating the moment you two would recognize just how perfectly you meshed.

the pining didn’t start until sophomore year, when the letters stopped. the two of you no longer lived in the same building; everyone’s classes got harder and more time consuming. somehow you and vernon got even closer, though. hugs lingered longer than normal, eye contact made your heart thump a bit more than usual. soon enough, the flirting emerged, and friend dates turned into normal dates. late night study sessions morphed into sleepovers. sleepovers morphed into sleepless nights, finding every surface in vernon’s room except for his creaky bed to release your energy.

the quiet vibe worked for the two of you. whether it was to avoid inevitable teasing from the friend group or merely your natural inclinations to privacy, the dating news took quite a while to reach the people closest to you. sure, vernon was suspiciously posting you a lot more, but half of his pictures have had you in them since high school. and yeah, maybe you were coming home with a lot more cds (that suspiciously looked that all the bands vernon liked), but your roommates figured you were finally making enough money to feed your music addiction. so, to say the least, the knowledge of your romance was a shock to the entire friend group—hoshi says he got goosebumps when he saw the two of you “soft-launching” your relationship by walking around campus holding hands. hoshi and his shaky camera skills caused quite the chaos in all the group chats that day.

even now, you think vernon’s quietness is his greatest strength, how he’s able to make your heart flutter in so few words. his weekly text saying “on the way” followed by some food emoji because he knows tuesday is your busiest day. his stack of records and cds that he keeps by his front door, bedecked with a bright green sticky note reminding him to lend them to you. his notes app with a list of movies he refuses to watch for the first time without you. the white slip of paper written by his eighteen-year-old self, an off-handed joke sitting in your desk drawer years later: ‘you’re the only one i never get tired of.’

a/n: hello, all! this is my first drabble back. something really short but i like it. its about all the writing i can muster rn. but i enjoyed writing it for sure. i weirdly feel like im in a cool romantic mood these days. and i might even have a crush for the first time in like 3 years! hope you guys enjoy tho. i know my last post didn’t seem to get much traction, but i hope i can get some feedback on this one. pls send in some asks just to chat! i like talking to u guys xx

feel free to reblog and send in asks!

#seventeen drabble #caratwritersclub #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon drabble #vernon imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #vernon chwe x reader #chwe vernon x reader

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heartateasee · 3 months

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“Prologue”

Word Count: 4k

(Prologue to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

Marlowe walked around the garage of her parents house, beginning to set up everything that was needed for band practice. Harry's drum set stayed there permanently - something he requested due to the fact his mom wasn't super ecstatic about the noise that came with it. He was fearful that she would get drunk and destroy it if she got too irritated about it. When Harry hesitantly asked Marlowe two years ago if he could keep it here, she said 'yes' before he even finished asking his question entirely.

Harry and his mom had moved to LA when he was fourteen, and Marlowe was thirteen. It was the start of a new school year, and Marlowe built up the courage to finally compliment the My Chemical Romance sticker on Harry's binder. After that, they hit it off almost immediately. The two of them connected over music mostly, making each other mix CDs and exchanging them at their lockers in between classes. Once technology advanced a bit, they took the time to exchange playlists instead, and they were both grateful they had someone in their life that appreciated artists and bands as much as the other did.

As interesting as Marlowe found it that Harry and his mom just up and moved from Holmes Chapel, she didn't pry. It wasn't until after they had known each other for almost a year that Harry revealed his mom was catfished by this guy online, and now they were stuck in LA with no other way home. She learned that Harry didn't know who his father was, and he didn't care to. He also told her that his mom sometimes drank a lot, probably more than she should from what he said, but things were okay when she was sober.

Marlowe couldn't relate completely, her parents were there, but they weren't entirely present.

Once he had opened up to her, Marlowe and Harry were practically inseparable. It wasn't that much later in their friendship that they discovered they both had the potential to actually make music. Marlowe picked up the guitar easily, whereas Harry was drawn to the drums.

The first time they sang in front of each other was a bit comical. Both in Marlowe's bedroom - opposite corners of the room while staring at the wall. "If It Means A Lot to You" by A Day to Remember bounced off the walls, and Marlowe had to brace herself against the plaster when she heard Harry's voice. The cadence he carried throughout his vocals had her knees buckling.

Little did Marlowe know that as soon as she opened her mouth to sing, goosebumps covered Harry's skin. They had each heard each other humming carelessly before, Harry himself would whistle quite often as well, but never had they heard the other sing.

Once the song played out, they slowly turned to face each other. Their eyes met, and they both started to laugh. They had no idea that the other felt something in Marlowe's bedroom that day, but they were young. They avoided it out of fear of destroying the friendship they currently had as they didn't know if the other felt the same way.

Marlowe plugged her guitar into the amp, placing it on the stand before setting up the amps that both Kailey, their bassist would need, as well as Mikey, their lead guitarist. Harry and Marlowe were grateful that they ended up connecting with the two of them their senior year of highschool, as they loved music just as much as they did.

With Marlowe now being twenty and Harry being twenty-one, they were preparing for an upcoming gig they had at a local venue. Music had become their entire lives these past two years, and this gig was going to have a lot of talent scouts from record labels at it. The two best friends had decided to forgo college - Harry because he couldn't afford it, and Marlowe just wasn't sure what she wanted to go to school for. Her parents didn't really mind, but Harry's mom could sometimes use his lack of education against him during heated arguments.

He wanted to act like it didn't bother him all that much, but Marlowe could tell that it did. She did her best to always get his mind off it when he'd come over after those situations, and that usually meant just laying on the floor in her room - listening to vinyls, and smoking cigarettes.

Marlowe turned her attention to the large garage door as she heard it opening, and she looked over to see Kailey and Mikey standing underneath it once it was raised enough.

"Hey guys," she said, having just finished setting everything up.

"Hey, Harry not here yet?" Mikey asked as he kneeled down with his guitar case, getting the instrument out.

"Uh no, not yet," Marlowe responded after clearing her throat.

Harry had been acting a little off this past month or so, and at first she thought that he was just feeling the pressure of their upcoming performance, but it was really unlike him to be late to practice like this - although it had started to happen more often than not. He was also practically shutting her out, and he hadn't done that at all in their years of friendship. He had just turned twenty one last month, and it seemed like once he did - he didn't really have time to see Marlowe outside of band practice anymore.

She tried not to think anything of it at first, but she was starting to feel the emptiness of not having him around like she used to. There was a girl, Sierra, that he had been seeing, and it didn't bother Marlowe, but he had never even introduced the two of them. She would tell Harry to invite her to band practice, or to hang out at her house, but her invitations went ignored.

It hurt her, but she knew that Harry wasn't going to be hers forever. She knew eventually he'd start dating, and Sierra was actually the first girl he had ever really been with in the time they had been friends. She wasn't sure if Harry was ashamed of her, and that's why he didn't want to bring Sierra around, or if he was just trying to separate himself from her completely.

"Really?" Kailey questioned with a raised eyebrow as she plugged her bass into the amp. "Have you tried to text him?

"Mhmm," Marlowe hummed, averting her eyes from her two friends. Harry hadn't responded to her texts in two days now.

She didn't want them to see just how much this was affecting her.

Her reassurance was that they'd always have music. That was something that they'd always get along over - something to keep them connected forever.

Marlowe just shook her head, her blonde hair framing around her face as she looked down at her guitar. She picked it up before flicking on the amp - giving the instrument a few strums. As she approached her microphone, she spoke into it to test it while tuning her guitar.

As the three of them were preparing their instruments, it was only a few minutes later that Harry came bursting through the side door of the garage, slightly stumbling over his own feet. The noise caused Marlowe to jump, and she looked over to see Harry kicking a stray paint can out of his way.

"Sorry I'm late," he mumbled, not even making eye contact with any of his friends as he started towards his drum set.

Marlowe followed him with her gaze, watching as he sat down on the stool behind his set - adjusting the bandana that was pushing his unruly curls back. He pulled his drumsticks out of the holder, tapping them against a few of the drumheads before finally looking to Marlowe.

"So, are we gonna start or what? I have things to do after this," Harry commented, and Marlowe's lips parted at the tone he was using with her.

This wasn't her Harry.

"Uhm, yeah, sure, sorry," Marlowe responded with a nod.

The setup in the garage was that everyone was in a circle so that they could see each other while practicing. It was an exercise they had learned during a band workshop, and it actually helped them round out their sound more than they could've imagined.

Marlowe looked between the three others before nodding her head, strumming her guitar once and letting the noise drown out as Harry lightly tapped on one of his cymbals - the sound growing as it went on. As they got into the grit of the song, Marlowe let off her guitar, cupping her microphone in her hand.

"Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when -

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end."

She made sure to strum her guitar when needed, making eye contact with Mikey who gave her a small smile. This was the best this song has sounded so far when just starting it out - their confidence was growing.

"Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend.

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again."

As the song went into the chorus, Marlowe slipped her eyes shut, feeling the music rattling in her chest - her fingertips tingling against her guitar strings as goosebumps covered her arms.

"I'll send you my love on a wire.

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh, from you."

The song flowed into the measures between the first chorus and the second verse, and that's when Marlowe started to notice Harry missing beats. She looked over to him to see that his eyebrows were narrowed - as if he was focusing so hard on getting it right, but he just couldn't. His eyes eventually closed and he titled his head up towards the ceiling, still trying to play but missing even more beats as time went on.

"Got balls of steel, got an automobile,

for a minimum wage.

Got real estate, I'm buying it all up in outer space."

Marlowe let go of her guitar, clapping into the microphone as she sang while Mikey took over the guitar entirely for this verse. Harry seemed to get a little back on track now that the tempo had slowed back down, and she hoped that he could get it together by the time the next chorus started.

"Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend.

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again."

The band went into the second chorus, Marlowe gripping her guitar once more to start up her playing again - swaying her hips to the beat of the song.

"I'll send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh."

It was noticeable that Harry was now completely off beat - stumbling his way through the chorus, and Marlowe looked over in his direction again. Her eyes locked with his, and she shook her head - eyebrows knitting together as if to ask what the hell was going on.

"It's a mechanical bull, the number one

You'll take a ride from anyone

Everyone wants a ride, pulls -"

Before they could even finish the song, Harry stood up from his drum set, throwing his drumsticks across the garage. Mikey and Kailey quickly ducked out of the way to avoid getting hit as Harry made his way around the instrument and towards the side door he had just entered through only a few minutes prior.

"I can't fucking do this anymore," he grumbled, throwing the door open.

Marlowe's eyes widened, and she immediately set her guitar down - racing after him. He was already halfway down the street, and she realized that she didn't see his car.

Had he walked here?

They didn't live too far from each other, maybe a five minute drive or so, but she still couldn't understand why he wouldn't have called her for a ride.

"Harry!" She called out after him, chest heaving as she tried to catch up with his long strides.

Harry kept staring in front of him, hands tucked securely into the front pockets of his jeans as he completely ignored the girl coming up behind him. He could hear the rocks crunching underneath her feet, and he knew that she was getting closer.

"Please, just wait," Marlowe panted, reaching a hand out to grab him.

Her hand landed on his bicep, and he was quick to rip it away from her. Marlowe stopped walking, completely stunned by Harry's actions.

"Don't fucking touch me, Marlowe."

Tears pricked at her waterline, as she continued to watch him walk away.

She hadn't heard him call her just Marlowe in several years. He always called her by her nickname, and he had never snapped at her like this before.

Quickly coming to again, Marlowe scurried to match Harry's steps so that she could keep up with him.

"You're not even going to talk to me?" She asked, bottom lip trembling as she stared at the side of his face.

Harry's expression remained stoic as he kept his eyes ahead, doing his best not to pay attention to Marlowe at all. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his hoodie, tucking one between his lips as he fiddled in his front pocket for his lighter.

Marlowe grimaced at the fact he was just completely avoiding her, and she snatched the stick from between his lips.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She gasped, trying her best not to get overcome with emotion, but she didn't even recognize the person next to her.

Her best friend for the past seven years was acting like someone she had never even met.

"Give that back," Harry demanded through clenched teeth, and Marlowe shook her head as they stopped walking.

"I need you to talk to me, Harry. What is going on?"

They both stood there staring at each other, and Marlowe's face contorted as she looked away from him - pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. Tears of both anger and confusion began to stream down her face, and she swallowed down the whimper that wanted to leave her.

"Just go back home," Harry muttered, looking down at his feet.

Marlowe continued to look away, dropping her hand as she pursed her lips to the side. She shut her eyes, dropping Harry's cigarette to the ground to dig her nails into her palms - leaving crescent shaped marks across her skin.

"I feel like I'm losing you," she whispered, nausea swirling her stomach at the thought. "You don't even talk to me anymore. Y-you're my best friend, and I don't know what to do with how I'm feeling."

It grew quiet between them, the cooler March air whipping across their faces as they stood facing each other, but not looking in each other's direction.

"Well, I don't think we should be friends anymore."

Heart plummeting, Marlowe's head snapped to look over at Harry who was still keeping his eyes on the ground.

"What?"

"I don't want to be friends with you anymore...or Kailey and Mikey," Harry stated, his voice more firm now.

His piercing green eyes met Marlowe's blue ones, and she didn't see any emotion behind his.

"What did I do?" Marlowe grasped to her chest, tightness taking over. "H-how can I fix this? Please tell me, and I'll do it, Harry, I can fix it. Is it Sierra? Does she not want you to be-"

"Fuck, Marlowe!" Harry's voice boomed, echoing against the houses near them, causing her to immediately clamp her mouth shut. "This isn't anything that can be fixed because nothing is broken. We're adults now. We've grown up, and I don't want the same things anymore. I don't want the band, and I don't want a music career - I don't even want Sierra anymore, and....and I don't want to be friends with you."

It was so quiet that Marlowe was surprised that she couldn't hear the cracking of her heart in her own chest. Her knees began to shake, and she was having to will herself to remain upright with the weight that was starting to press down upon her.

"What did I do?" Marlowe whimpered out again, dropping her chin to her chest.

Her ears began to ring as she realized Harry really meant this, and that this is what he wanted. Her best friend had already been fading away from her for some time now, but she never thought that he would allow himself to completely disappear after everything they had been through. Their connection was something Marlowe felt she could never find again.

"Go home.”

Marlowe remained frozen as she heard Harry's footsteps moving away from her, and she tried to will herself to open her mouth and call out for him again, but she couldn't. Her mind was reeling, trying her hardest to grasp onto what was actually happening.

By the time she was able to ground herself, her head lifting to look around her neighborhood again for any sign of Harry, he was gone.

●・○・●・○・●

A month had passed since Marlowe last saw Harry. Her calls and her texts went unanswered, and eventually she just assumed that he had blocked her number. Marlowe was devastated. She had never felt this type of emptiness in her entire life, and that was saying something considering her parents had a habit of missing almost every important event that came up for her.

She barely left her room, burying herself under her covers as she stared blankly at the wall her bed was pressed up against. No vinyls turned on her record player. There weren't two cigarettes resting and burning on her ashtray, and Harry's cackles didn't fill her room.

Marlowe hadn't listened to a single note of music since that day. She apologized to both Kailey and Mikey, but she told them she couldn't continue the band on without Harry. It didn't feel right.

That band was theirs, something they had created together, and it was nothing without him. No one would be able to play the drums like he could, and no other voice would blend with hers as perfectly as his did. Thankfully Kailey and Mikey understood, and they both had tried their best to console Marlowe due to Harry's absence, but she explained that she just needed to be alone for a while to process everything.

Her parents noticed that something was off, but they didn't try to get to the root of it, and she was honestly grateful for that. They didn't have anything against Harry by any means, but Marlowe knew they wouldn't understand the weight of what had happened.

Rain pelted down against her window, the first rain LA had seen in a while, while Marlowe hung her legs over the side of her bed - cupping her mattress in her hands.

She needed to see him. She needed to force him to see her. This wasn't how their friendship was going to end.

Popping up quickly, Marlowe pulled on a pair of leggings and her Doc Martens while throwing a hoodie over her head. She grabbed her wallet and her keys off her dresser before heading down the stairs and out of her house. After slipping into her car, she started off down the road towards Harry's mom's house.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her palms feeling like pins and needles from the adrenaline that was coursing through her. Deep down she knew that this was probably really stupid, and that the end result could end up just hurting her worse, but she needed more closure than he had given her. She deserved that from him.

After pulling into the driveway, she sat in her car for a moment - staring blankly at her steering wheel. She contemplated just turning around and going home, but she wasn't going to move on without this happening.

Marlowe made her way up to the front door with her hood over her head, quickly knocking on the door before tucking her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. She shivered slightly, looking around a bit before the door opened. It revealed Harry's mom, and Marlowe sent her a soft smile.

"Hi Tamara, is Harry-"

"Nope," she cut Marlowe off quickly, and as much as she wanted to roll her eyes, she didn't.

"Please, I just want to talk to him. I only need few minutes and then I'll go, but I really need to-"

"Look, Marley," Tamara slurred, raising her hand to interrupt her once more.

His mom never called her by her actual name, and Marlowe wasn't sure if it was just because she couldn't remember it when intoxicated, or if she never actually cared to learn it. Her and Harry never really spent a lot of time here. She could probably count on one hand how many times they hung out here instead of Marlowe's house.

"Harry hasn't been here in probably...three weeks now. He left a note saying that he was gonna be gone for a while, and that's the last I've heard from him. I don't know if he'll come home, I don't really care at this point, but don't come around here bothering me anymore, alright?"

Marlowe opened her mouth to attempt to speak again, but Tamara slammed the door right in her face. She swallowed harshly as she stepped backwards off the porch, still keeping her eyes on the door for a while before she turned around and hurried back to her car.

Hands clutching the wheel, she began to sob with her chest jumping up and down with every large breath she tried to take. All of this just didn't feel real - this past month without Harry, the last time she had seen him, and even right now with her sitting outside of her house crying in her car. It all felt like a terrible dream that she couldn't wake herself up from.

She allowed herself a few minutes to calm down, pulling the cuffs of her hoodie over her hands to wipe her cheeks before pulling out onto the road to head back to her house.

It was so difficult for Marlowe to picture what her life was going to be like next week, next month or even next year without Harry. Every vision she had of her future up until now had him there right beside her, and now that wasn't a possibility anymore. All she had were her memories with him.

Once she got home, she raced back upstairs - stripping out of her clothes to dive back into her covers in just her bra and underwear. Her hands gripped at her comforter as she smothered her face in it. She didn't know when she'd be able to stop crying.

Marlowe loved Harry. She knew she had loved him for a while now, and she knew it was more than platonic on her end, but it was obvious that she was foolish for ever letting her feelings get that far. She only had herself to blame for him not knowing the extent of them - as she could never bring herself to tell him. There were times here and there, especially through the last four years or so, that she had thought that maybe he felt the same way, but there was no way that could be true to what he had done to her.

Even though she was so angry and hurt by him, she just hoped that he was okay, and that he was safe. She hoped that he was taking care of himself, that he wasn't getting into any trouble, and that he was with someone, or surrounded by people, who loved and cared for him as much as she did. She could only hope that he felt the comfort she felt in him in someone else.

Her Harry was gone, and it was evident that he was never coming back.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles ff #Spotify

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mcondance · 2 months

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a quick talk on obtaining physical media

you can get your physical media off of amazon. you can type in “xyz dvd” “xyz cd” “xyz vinyl” in google too and it’ll show you results for ebay and other stores like walmart and target probably. i don’t really do this cause i’m a vintageantiqueoriginal fucker.

edit: ebay is a great place to find dvds, cds, and vinyl that aren’t originals but have been opened so they’re cheaper still!

if you’re an antique, vintage, original fucker like me, ebay is the way to go. i got my slc punk original 1999 (first edition, MINT CONDITION) dvd off ebay and i also got my soundgarden 1996 down on the upside digipak cd off ebay too (yes i’m flexing 😁).

discogs is another great way to get original vinyl and cds. i got my ORIGINAL 1996 SOUNDGARDEN DOWN ON THE UPSIDE VINYL off discogs. but only people who know the worth of what they’re selling use discogs, so prices are higher on there. ebay is always my first step. (i was flexing again 😋).

tip: to make sure you’re getting the original pressing or version, zoom in on the back of the vinyl sleeve, cd or dvd, look at the bottom where all the copyright information and stuff is, and it’ll have what year it was printed labeled on it. if the pictures included with the listing don’t have the dates, ask for pictures of the back or move on.

also, people using words like “original” “vintage” “first pressing” on ebay definitely know the value of what they’re selling. i’m personally too lazy to sift through new copies and old copies, but if you wanna try your hand, simply type in “xyz dvd.” look for listings with no decorative words or words that younger people would use. you wanna find someone’s granddaddy selling his old cds, dvds, and vinyl. it��ll be cheaper than other listings because they just want it out of their house or have no use for it anymore.

antique, resale, and vintage shops also have dvds, cds, and vinyl. it’s more hit or miss cause you have to hope they have what media you’re looking for but you can also find things that you weren’t looking for but are nice to have. i just came from a resale store and i found the temptations on dvd which wasn’t on my list but it’s fucking nice to have 😋😋

as for how to indulge in this media, you can get that one white cd player that everyone has off of amazon. i’m currently looking for an older cd player as well as a dvd / vhs tv for when i start collecting vhs. again, ebay is the way to go.

collecting physical media is fun and also very important with the threat of media erasure looming heavier and heavier over us everyday. please collect all of your favorite movies, shows, and albums, before it’s too late.

#🧏🏾‍♀️#[important]#physical media #vhs #cds #dvds #vinyl records

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dagwolf · 24 days

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From Reverberation Vinyl on Facebook:

I'm a "record store day indifferent" type of shop. I don't carry the sort of things that people line up for, and the things I do stock that are attached to rsd are all items you'd find here on the average Wednesday. I don't hold it against anyone, takes all kinds, etc. But I am asked frequently around this time of year why I don't really care for rsd, and while I certainly have stock answers on hand, they usually come off as annoyed or negative, rather than thoughtful and well reasoned. So, short of going door to door & handing out tri-fold pamphlets, here's Ralphie's theme...

Why RSD Is Bad For Records & Record Stores by John Anderson

The "Record Store", as positioned in our culture in 2024, is (or was) a reflection of the mythical independents of the '90s & '00s, places that thrived outside both the interest in, or support from, the record industry. Truly independent stores that were usually small, primarily used, at times meeting places for music people, social hubs for weirdos, discovery zones & more. The reality was far more nuaced, but growing up in the record stores of my youth, I eventually sorted out the differences between chain stores, used shops, big label music, used selling/buying, etc, and the sense of REAL that permeated the independent shops of the world. The person/people behind these places were often big, weird personalities, but they were also the driving force behind what lay on the shelves. New horror soundtrack imports from Italy? Brand new garage rock from PNW hotspots? Skranky dub compilations for under ten bucks? Bootlegs? YES. All things that were specific to the shops, sometimes exclusive, but always reflective of what & who the place WAS. Recreating that to the best of my honest ability has always been my goal here. If its a new record in the racks or on the wall, its likely here because a) I love it, b) I own one too, and c) I'd like to share it with you. Short version: this store is a deeply personal statement. That has always been my focus and always shall be. In the words of the great Andrew Weatherall, "Music's not for everyone".

That's the mystical/romantic part. I have practical reasons as well!

1) As stated above, record stores (vinyl) thrived & grew to what we know now with ZERO interest from the record industry, when it was at its absolute $height$. As "record store culture" became more popular & increasingly commodified, the industry used rsd as a trojan horse to seize the means & the narrative back from the very people who kept it going while they - the industry - were gouging people on CDs & fumbling a cogent approach to digital music.

2) rsd stock is expensive, for us & you. Usually 25% more than your standard releases. Why? Good question.

3) rsd stock is unreturnable for shops. As a store, what you order, you're stuck with. Huge stores don't seem to mind, as you'll see bin after bin of rsd leftovers going back 5+ years, more in some cases.

4) The Disappointment Factor. When "one band fans" & newer collectors have been conditioned to seek out "the one thing", there's inevitable disappointment when smaller stores get tiny allocations of records people seem willing to fight over. That disappointment usually ends up directed at the people/place, meaning yours truly, something I want no part of.

5) Manufactured Scarcity. Undershooting demand by a few thousand units as a marketing strategy sounds fun to someone... not sure who though. Driving a rabid wave of buyers (say 500,000) into a physical marketplace that's more likely to NOT have what they want (say 10,000 copies)? Nope. Which leads to...

6) Unrealistic Manufacturing Capabililty. With seemingly every popular (read: really common) record of the last 50 years being repressed in 18 colors to satiate insane demand (a particularly impatient, Amazon era, "want it NOW" demand), not to mention the same approach to new LPs by many (Billie Eilish called this out recently), the industry is basically pretending this is the early '80s when massive, industry-wide manufacturing infrastructure meant they could turn big orders around in days rather than months. Trouble is, this isn't the '80s. The big industry titans dumped their pressing facilities & hardware at the dawn of the '90s. Now, demand greatly exceeds manufacturing capabilities, and while there have been new pressing plants opening (and thriving) in recent times, these aren't owned & operated by Warner or Universal: these are the indie operations that kept vinyl alive in the '90s & '00s, and now the big label business they can't turn down means slower turnaround for all the labels & artists that aren't major/indie property. AKA all the artists who ordered records from them for the previous 20+ years. Which leads too...

7) Astronomical Pricing. Yes, rsd pricing is "a quarter above the vig". Cost of doing business in that world, I guess. If it sounds like the mafia, it is, because rsd is 100% "big record industry" controlled in 2024, regardless of early intent. Unsurprisingly, the cost of new records across the board has seen an insane surge, with little mind paid to the audience, whether that be boomer age dudes who can afford $80 Neil Young records & $900 box sets, or high school/college kids, who are expected to drop $40 for a new LP. Regardless of the public face they put on it, the industry still sees "this", meaning records, as a trend that will at least partially fade off. Hence their lack of interest in committing to better & more sustainable pressing & manufacturing. No plants or presses, but the money will be fine for now, thanks.

8) Flipper Culture. I say this knowing full well there's no way to put this element back in the box, but your ebay/discogs flippers are the boogeyman that its easiest to put a face to. Not much nuance necessary, they just want as many copies of of whatever "hot" rsd release is fetching the most $$ online. We've all had to hit the secondary market to find some "limited" record we missed. Being forced to do it on rsd because 2000 dirtdicks who stood in a line all night & bought up 2/3 of the existing copies of the record by your daughter's favorite artist? At 10x list price? Oh, okay.

9) The Generally Punishing Nature Of Having To Stand In Line For Something You May Not Actually Get. If there's a group of folks out there who love standing in lines, I mean no offense, but come on now. I'd guess that most bands/artists probably aren't aware of what goes on around rsd, or I'd like to think they'd decline involvement, because who wants to punish their fans like that?

I could go on & on but... The record scene has changed a lot since I opened up, particularly in the last 7-8 years. For the better? I kinda doubt it, but we shall see... I've been carping out these warnings since 2011, and there isn't much I can do about it, aside from running my little shop in the manner I see fit. I don't begrudge anyone what they're into, and while my place is as personal as it gets, I don't take these weird record store times personally. I hope anyone who reads this understands that like my store, it comes from a place of love, with all the passion & care that encompasses. In the end, this should be fun... I've had some incredible discoveries, comraderies & experiences in records stores, and that I wish for everyone.

(link)

#record store day

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 5 months

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Show Me Yours

Christmas Blurb Three - Presents

December 22nd 2014

“Okay… sit… sit, Button. Sit-”

Tommie groans as the front door opens and Button runs to Adam who balances things on his arm. “Adam!” Carly yells as she appears around the corner wiping her hands in a tea towel, “What did I tell you about slamming the doors?”

“Sorry, Carls.”

“Okay, Button, let’s try again.”

“What are you doing?”

Adam looks down but then sighs as he sees the dog dressed in a pudding outfit with a little santa hat, he places all the wrapped presents onto one of the arm chairs and crouches down to the dog, “What’s she doing to you, hmm?”

“She loves it,” Tommie says watching Button fall onto her back for some belly scratches, “She keeps bringing it to me to put it on.”

“I’m sure this is animal cruelty.”

“You’re just jealous because she looks better than you.”

Adam rolls his eyes but the grin on his face doesn’t leave as he scratches Button’s head. “What have you gotten me for Christmas?” She asks, smiling down at him with her puppy dog eyes.

“Not telling.”

“Aw come on, it’s not as if I’m five years old expecting Santa to come down the chimney in a few days.”

“Still not telling. You’ll have to wait.”

“But-” He says getting something out of his bag, “This was on the porch for you. Not sure who it’s from.”

Tommie knows. The moment she reads the little label that says ‘To Baby’ she knows who the gift is from.

“I’m gonna go chuck my jamas on.”

“Okay, don’t be long,” Carly calls from the kitchen, “We’re gonna watch Home Alone.”

When alone in the spare bedroom of Carly and Adam’s home she sits on the bed cross legged and tears open the wrapping paper.

Inside is a small CD case, on the front is a picture of the band when they first did a gig together. It’s a picture after the show, George and Ross are holding Tommie up by her legs and Matty’s crouching under her to stop her from falling. You can see the top of Adam’s head over Ross’ shoulder, he’d been behind her so she didn’t fall backwards.

She turns it over, the back is a picture of the stars with the contents of the CD written in Matty’s messy handwriting.

Woman

Me (Tommie’s Vocals)

Lostmyhead

Antichrist

Lost Boys // 28 (Tommie’s Vocals)

Robbers (Matty ad Tommie’s Vocals)

Chocolate (Single Version)

It’s then she realises that it’s their first recording session, the one they’d spent weeks perfecting for the EP. She pulls it out and glances around, she doesn’t have a CD player, so she rushes downstairs and grabs her car keys with a promise of returning with more wine.

She drives until she finds a secluded pull in near the old rugby pitch they’d mess around in. Then sits and listens to the CD until Carly’s calling her for the fifth time to check in. Even then she lingers in the parked car to listen once more.

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #the 1975 x oc

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an-aroaces-harem · 2 months

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Ivy Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I just deepl and google translated my way through this because I wanted to know what’s going on, so there are definitely mistakes but I believe I managed the general gist of the story. Anyway, it’s just a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes. Morganatic Idol belongs to Cybird and ABC Frontier, Inc.

Rina: That's it.

I finished cleaning the room and exhaled.

(I've been able to get it done in a lot less time than in the beginning.)

This is thanks to time I have spent helping Ivy-san.

As soon as I think of that ... what happened at that meeting a few days ago comes to my mind again.

--flashback--

Ivy: We get along, sure, but it isn’t like that.

Ivy: Kawanaga-san thinks of me like a big brother.

Ivy: For me, she’s like a cute little sister.

--flashback end--

Rina: ... like a sister

(Not so long ago, I didn't mind being treated like that by Ivy-san.)

In fact, I was even glad to be familiar with him.

And yet, now that I'm aware of my feelings for him, it hurts so much.

(... stop. It's no use thinking about it. I need to focus on what I can do instead.)

I shake my head to shake off the sinking feeling.

(Well, I'll have to look into exe again today.)

(I've been spending a lot of time helping out for a while now and haven't gotten around to doing the research for the presentation ...)

With that in mind, I was looking for materials and found a CD stuffed into a box at the back of a shelf.

It appears to be a CD with sound data burned into it, and the title is written on the label of the case.

(It doesn't seem to be the name of an exe song. Let's give it a listen.)

I'm also allowed to use the room's audio when researching.

I immediately started playing it, and what I heard was Ivy-san's singing voice.

The direction is completely different from the cool, tension-filled songs of today's exe.

(But it's warm and gentle and fits Ivy-san's voice tremendously. It's a lovely song.)

... As I was listening to the music, the door of the room suddenly opened.

I turned around to see if Ivy-san had returned.

Hitaki-san was there.

Hitaki: Hey, you were there too.

Rina: Is there a problem, Hitaki-san?

Hitaki: I'm here to borrow some materials. Ivy-san told me it's fine.

When Hitaki-san entered the room, he seemed to notice the music playing in the room.

Hitaki: ... Oh, I know I've heard this somewhere before. This is an R2R song.

'R2R' ... I remember when I looked up exe during the presentation, that name came up.

Rina: I think that's the music unit that Ivy-san had before exe, isn't it?

Hitaki: Yes, it was a unit formed by Ivy-san and Eito-san. This is a hit song from that time.

Hitaki: I'm sure it quite well domestically, but by the looks of it, you don't know?

Rina: Yes ... I wasn't really into music.

Rina: I've only seen a few names when I looked up exe, but I don't know much about it.

Hitaki: If you're interested, I can tell you what I know.

Rina: I'd love to!

Hitaki: That's quite a quick answer. Do you want to know so much about Ivy-san?

Rina: What!? That's not why ...

Hitaki: Hmm, just kidding.

Hitaki: As I mentioned earlier, R2R is a duo unit consisting of Eito-san and Ivy-san.

Hitaki: He was very popular among young people because of his consistent singing ability and high level of music.

Rina: Certainly, it's a great song, too.

Rina: The atmosphere is quite different from that of today's exe.

Hitaki: R2R's songs are more melody-driven than exe's songs which are more rhythm-driven.

Hitaki: I heard that Ivy-san is writing the music now, but back then he and Eito-san were working on it together.

Hitaki: I guess the unit changed, and so did his musicality.

(I see what you mean. Maybe that's one of those things ...)

Hitaki: R2R was expected to go global, but ... the results didn't go well.

Hitaki: No matter how popular they were in Japan, they weren't accepted overseas.

Rina: ... I see.

(It's a really tough world ... after all those great songs.)

Hitaki: That's why Eito-san used his experience to start Aero Light Productions.

Hitaki: He's trying to raise the bar in the japanese music industry and create a group that can compete on a global level.

Rina: I see ...

I had heard that Sakura-san was a former musician, but I had no idea he had such deep thoughts.

And I didn't know that Ivy-san had a bitter experience of losing in front of the world's wall.

(Somehow I find that hard to believe, even though Ivy-san is now very active as an exe member.)

(I'm sure it must have been very frustrating and painful ...)

Hitaki: ... what are you thinking about? Maybe about Ivy-san?

Rina: Yes ... it is truly amazing that he has overcome so many setbacks and is doing so well.

Rina: I can't even imagine how much effort he had to put in to acquire the skills necessary to compete on the world stage.

Hitaki: That's right ... fufu, you're really all about Ivy-san. I'm a little jealous.

Rina: Eh?

Then I finally realized that Hitaki-san and I were getting awfully close.

Rina: U-uh ...?

Hitaki: Ah, sorry. I just thought it was kind of cute how you were trying so hard to care for Ivy-san.

Hitaki: I'd like to get a better look at that face.

With a sweet smile, Hitaki-san peeked at me.

Rina: I don't think I'm cute ...

(So close to my face ...!)

As I try to keep my distance, a large palm is placed on my shoulder.

Hitaki: Don't run away. I just want to talk to you more.

My resistance was suppressed and I was pulled towards Hitaki-san with a strong force.

Rina: Talk to me about what?

Hitaki: Remember what I said at our meeting the other day, that I wanted you to help me with Gem, not exe?

Rina: I remember. But I turned that down at the time, didn't I?

As I tried to turn away from his approaching face, Hitaki-san's palm gently touched my cheek.

The coolness of the air makes me shiver.

Hitaki: Would you please think about it again? I just can't give up.

Rina: Why are you so ...? I don't think Gem needs me.

Hitaki: You underestimate yourself. Your power is a wonderful thing.

Hitaki: In fact, the exe members were happy to see how well you did, weren't they?

Rina: B-but I ...

Hitaki: I know. You did your best for Ivy-san.

Hitaki: What's so special about Ivy-san?

Rina: !!

I froze at his words and looked up at him, stunned. Hitaki-san's smile deepened as his eyes seemed to see through everything.

Hitaki: ... you think of him like a big brother? I know you can count on him to be kind to you.

Rina: Y-yes ... I ...

... I feel like I have to affirm it, but my voice is stuck in my throat and won't come out.

Hitaki: Ivy-san also said that he thinks of you as a sister.

Rina: ...

Hitaki: It's a wonderful relationship, isn't it? ... But, really, is that enough for you?

Hitaki-san's hand was holding my shoulder, but before I knew it, it was around my waist.

A palm slides across my cheek, making me look up as I try to turn away.

Rina: Please let go of me ...

Hitaki: ... You should go to Gem. It would make you happier.

He was drawing closer.

Hitaki: I value your ability and would be willing to do great work with you if you would become a Gem exclusive.

Hitaki: I know we will be irreplaceable partners, both publicly and privately.

Rina: But I'm ...

Hitaki: And I don't think you're a little sister. You're very pretty and attractive woman who can be desperate for someone.

Hitaki: I'm not going to make you feel lonely by treating you like a child.

Rina: ...

The gently whispered words seemed to contain some kind of magical power.

Just as Hitaki-san's air was about to consume me ... the door to the room opened.

Ivy: Kawanaga-san ... and Hitaki?

When Ivy-san comes into the room, his eyes widen and he looks at me and Hitaki-san.

Rina: Ivy-san ...

My head cooled down at once. Quickly, I shake off Hitaki-san's hand and move away.

Rina: ...

I felt like I had to say something, but I was to upset to speak.

Ivy: ... You look pale. Calm down.

Seeing me, he lowered his eyebrows in concern.

(What should I do? I can't believe Ivy-san saw me in that position ...!)

Hitaki: Welcome back, Ivy-san. You're back earlier than I expected.

Ivy: I got the job done smoothly.

Ivy: I know Kawanaga-san is cleaning ... but what are you doing here?

Hitaki: I came to borrow some materials. Then I ran into her by chance and we had a little chat.

Hitaki: Right?

Rina: Y-yes ...

That's certainly not wrong.

But after being so close to him like that, and after he whispered those words to me ... I felt guilty for some reason.

(I know you saw me earlier, Ivy-san. I hope he didn't think I was weird.)

(Or do you think I'm just like a little sister and don't care ...?)

I can't look at Ivy-san's face.

What Hitaki-san said to me earlier is going through my mind.

Rina: ... and I'm done cleaning for the day.

Rina: Excuse me!

I was so frustrated that I ran away from the place.

Hitaki: Oh, she got away. Fufu ... She's really funny.

Hitaki: She's as honest as a puppy. Her expression changes from one moment to the next, and she's easy to read.

Hitaki: I can see why Ivy-san adores her.

Ivy: Hitaki ... Don't mess with Kawanaga-san as a joke.

Ivy: She's so pure. She's working so hard in an environment she's not used to.

Hitaki: I'm not kidding ...

Hitaki: Does that mean I can ask you a question if I'm not joking?

Ivy: What?

Hitaki: As she's a housekeeper, you're in charge of her, and you spend the most time together.

Hitaki: My connection to her is certainly tenous by comparison.

Ivy: Ah. So get to the point ...

Hitaki: But that doesn't matter. I like her.

Ivy: What did you say?

Hitaki: I recognize her abilities and understand her feelings ... much more than you do.

Ivy: ... What does that mean?

Hitaki: I mean it as it is ... If you're going to be like that forever, I'll take her.

Ivy: ...

Hitaki: ... Sometimes the most precious things that we take for granted can suddenly disappear one day.

Hitaki: Please be careful.

Ivy: !

Hitaki: ... then I'll be off. Excuse me.

Aloof, Hitaki walked out of the room.

The remaining Ivy stands alone, wide-eyed and stunned.

Ivy: ... The important things we take for granted will cease to be ...

He mutters in a small voice and turns around.

Ivy: ...

What are those eyes, shaking with pain, reflecting?

No one else knew about it.

#morganatic idol #morudoru #morudoru ivy #resa translates something for once?

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tenebriskukris · 25 days

Text

Oshi No Ko Chapter 146 - My Thoughts/Analysis

This chapter was mostly setup, but I do think there are a couple of nuggets of wisdom to be gleaned here, so I’ll get right to that. Spoilers for Oshi No Ko Ch146 below.

So we return to the movie filming with Fril as Airi and Aqua as Hikaru. This is an interesting confrontation—especially the part where FrilAiri mentions that Taiki is Hikaru’s child. Whether or not the actual Hikaru knew beforehand that Taiki was his child is up in the air, as well as whether or not this scene even happened in reality are interesting questions that we likely won’t have the answer to unless we get it from Hikaru himself.

The expressions here are just superb, I have to say. And Aqua with black star eyes again…Can’t say I’m surprised, really, since he tends to do this when he gets into highly emotional acting, and while I think his current “default” state is white star eyes, he’s already shown a tendency to activate his dual black star eyes when acting with emotion, as we’ve previously seen in the Tokyo Blade arc.

We cut to another movie scene with Hikaru and Ai. And the fact that it’s labeled misunderstanding is quite a loaded name for the scene in particular. Ai’s answer to Hikaru here…it’s certainly an honest answer, which I think makes his reaction after this scene so…well, perhaps devastated isn’t strong enough a term for it. He knows that she’s being truthful and that makes it all the worse. Having the scene cut away like that without a continuation for Ai following up on her words leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It’s the perfect time to explore these characters, even if it’s only a muddled version of them.

What the—so many scenes passing by without any spotlight??? You’d think they’d show all these scenes—the scene labeled AI’s rejection in particular—but what the hell?

On one hand I understand why—the pacing of this arc is already quite disjointed and choppy so we need to pick up the pace, but with how things have been proceeding—just skipping all these scenes over doesn’t sit right with me. Because by skipping these scenes—unless they show what really happened later down the line—the manga is essentially saying that these scenes don’t matter for the narrative at large, which is a tough pill to swallow considering these scenes might be integral for the reader to get a better insight on Ai and Hikaru’s characters, even if they’re obscured through the movie like this.

Really, it might’ve been better to have the movie filming be done while other arcs were happening at the same time. Productions, as I’ve noted before, often take months for everything to get to a stage where they can actually film—and the filming often takes large gaps of time before everything is slated for editing. You can’t just show parts of a movie production and then tell me that there was nothing narratively relevant in the long stretches of time between takes for the movie. Especially because of the haymakers that were Chapters 123 and 143. We need to get used to the new normal between the protagonists and how they think about their current situation!

The disconnected pacing and implicit time skips are already dragging the arc down. I keep on mentioning it because there’s such an easy fix for this issue. Just expand the arc’s scope as a B-plot within a series of other arcs so that the pacing doesn’t feel so simultaneously bloated and at the same time too fast-paced. Let the characters' circumstances sink in for the readers so that we can explore them better over a longer period of time. But I digress. I’ll have yet more thoughts about this arc’s pacing when it finishes, I’m sure.

Back to the chapter. We see Aqua staring grumpily at the script, two black stars in his eyes. The aftereffects of his emotional acting at work—getting close to Hikaru mentally, or at least his perceived image of Hikaru. It’s worth noting once again that Aqua’s just going off of guesswork—unless those thrice blasted CDs are going to come out of nowhere to joss my theories again. I do wonder how he thinks of Hikaru now, though, after Aqua tried to get into his head with the script and understanding his backstory.

A wild Kana appears! Let’s see where this trainwreck goes.

Oh damn Aqua with his suicidal ideation in front of Kana. That’s really surprising. He’s been open to her before, but he’s very rarely let his true thoughts and feelings become evident for a variety of reasons. Mostly because Kana isn’t really the best person to talk to for these sort of emotional heart-to-heart conversations.

And of course tsunderes are not good therapists. This attempt at supporting Aqua through his issues is so very in-character for her that I just laughed out loud reading it. I’m not sure what anybody expected considering how insensitive Kana is in general. Her heart’s in the right place, but those words were almost certainly not the right ones to use. If this was Aqua of the pre-143, or if he were more mentally ill, then this entire conversation could’ve backfired immensely on her.

Aqua saying that he has fun with Kana when he’s with her is both fitting and hilarious. On one hand, it’s fitting because she has the least baggage compared to the main cast, on the other, it’s hilarious because she doesn’t understand Aqua’s Issues(™) at all. She doesn’t examine Aqua’s problem or take the time to get into any introspection to why Aqua behaved like that in the first place, instead focusing on her delusions of a potential romance with him instead of on Aqua himself. If a friend of mine behaved like that in front of me, I’d be a bit more thoughtful when dealing with any sort of suicidal ideation instead of brushing it off in favor of stewing in her own hopeless delusions.

“It’s like he’s saying that we’re compatible indirectly.” Someone please escort this romcom character off my screen before I lose more braincells watching her. Please, thank you. Her chances at the Aquabowl have already cratered since she lied to Aqua saying that she doesn’t see him as a romantic partner, so stringing this up further is just adding insult to injury. It would almost be kind of sad, but I’ve lost the majority of my sympathy for Kana as a person this far into the series.

We’re cutting to Ruby now. And in a shrine, no less. Wonder if we’re getting into more supernatural setup.

Oh. My. God. Well, well. I was wondering when Hikaru would be showing up, but I didn’t think it would be this direct—he’s obviously been stalking Ruby, since I don’t believe for a second that this meeting was left up to chance. I do also recall that Crow Girl said that she was going to give Ruby some punishment last chapter but I had hoped that she’d thrown that plan away!

IT ENDS LIKE THAT??? AND WITH A BREAK NEXT WEEK???????

Okay—okay. I have Thoughts on this chapter as a whole, both on the Aqua-Kana chip scene and the Ruby-Hikaru scene.

Kana cheering up Aqua with the chips combination is very…I don’t want to say unnecessary, because I understand what the authors were trying to go for. Aqua’s going to need other people in order to help him get out of his rut, a support system to help him deal with the symptoms of his other issues. I just don’t see why this couldn’t have been done with some of the other people in Aqua’s life. Akane, Mem-cho, Taiki, Miyako, hell, even Melt could’ve done almost the same thing that Kana’s doing to raise Aqua’s spirits and get their own thoughts on this whole production.

Kana’s okay for this purpose, I guess, but she’s already had more than enough screentime during the production that could’ve been used for some of our other cast members. They brought back Taiki, Melt, and even Akane for this, so where’s their contribution to the narrative during this arc?

It also bellies another problem I have with this entire scene—Kana is a breath of fresh air from the dreary scenes we’d seen in the chapter before, but it seems like in this scene she’s only being used for the purpose of setting the ambience back to something that more lighthearted when instead the tone of the scene can and should be done otherwise. Is it necessary for this scene to lift up the reader’s spirits after the first few scenes of the movie filming? No, especially with the ending of the chapter leaving us off on a cliffhanger. It breaks the tone that was presented to us at the start of the chapter and leaves this conversation looking out of place considering how serious the topics were at first. It’s as if the manga itself isn’t confident enough with its tone that it has to lighten up the reader’s spirits through Kana.

I also think it’s of some note that I don’t think this conversation “saved” Aqua in any capacity. Kana shook Aqua out of his funk while he was feeling the residual emotions of emotional acting. If this was Aqua pre-143 I doubt we’d be seeing his white star eyes return to him in this conversation, especially since we’d already seen Aqua and Kana interact with pre-143 with black star eyes, and nowhere in their numerous conversations did Aqua regain his white star eyes.

The scene with Ruby and Hikaru though…I’d been wondering when he’d be showing up in this arc, but this was a big surprise. I’d expected that he’d be showing up close to the end of the movie production, but having him appear here also leaves the door open for more of his interference with the movie filming.

I will say that unless he has a good reason for it, approaching Ruby like this is almost certainly a bad move. He’s already cottoned onto the fact that Aqua’s making the movie for revenge, and it’s not a leap to assume that he’s gotten Ruby on board with his plans in the first place. It’d be safer to assume that both of the twins know what Hikaru look like, so him approaching Ruby out in the open is showing his hand too soon. There has to be a reason for that other than whim.

I don’t think he wants to kill Ruby or Aqua. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be killing Ruby here. Of his two murders(and I’ll put a pin in the fact that whether or not he killed Ai is still up in the air) he’s always either proxies or used indirect means to kill his victims. Being face to face with Ruby here, like this, doesn’t fit his modus operandi. It’d be too messy to kill her with his DNA all over the scene, in an area where there could be witnesses.

He already has access to both the script and information about the movie thanks to Kaburagi, and so he has all the ammunition he needs to shut down the production if necessary. Letting the movie continue on like this—even if it doesn’t have his name on it—is risky enough that it’d be better to err on the side of caution. So that leads me to think that he either can’t get it shut down, which is doubtful when he’s allied with Kaburagi in some manner, or he wants the production to continue, which already casts doubt on his motives in general.

The fact of the matter is that there’s so much we don’t know about Hikaru and his motives for much of anything. His appearance in Ch109 with him killing Yura feels to me both a red herring and an intentional misdirect. We’ve already seen characters say one thing and think and or act contrary to their words, so it wouldn’t be out of place. We think we know him through the movie script, but that movie was both supposed to be about Ai, and also made for the purpose of Aqua’s revenge scheme. Aqua thinks he has a grasp on Hikaru’s character, but we’d already seen him be wrong about Hikaru once, when Aqua thought he was dead, and unless he has some sort of special insight through those blasted DVDs, we’re once again left mostly in the dark regarding his true character.

But now that he’s actually shown up in front of our main cast, we might get some answers to the questions that have been plaguing us from the start of the series. I desperately need to know why he’s interested in Ruby and not as much towards Aqua. The obvious answer is because Ruby is paralleling Ai, and Aqua’s paralleling Hikaru himself, but that feels much too easy on my part. Either way, with the cliffhanger, I wouldn’t be surprised if we get to delve into his character a lot more during the next chapter.

#oshi no ko #onk #oshi no ko analysis #my analysis #onk spoilers #onk 146 #hope i'm not late to next week's chapter!

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undead-merman · 2 years

Text

Sirris and Kylar you’re in their haunted house with GN-Reader

Sirris

You had just bought this small house. It was a step up from your old moldy and grimy apartment that's for sure. The place was quite nice despite the history behind it, and sadly that you were able to afford it. House fire killed the father but the son lived. You wanted to do more digging but found it to be in poor taste so you held off.

The place felt homely despite it all. It was well kept before you moved it and felt nearly brand new. Even the scent of ash you had somewhat expected was gone and replaced with a fall candle your realtor left for you.

You decide to start now and begin unpacking. It was an exciting process though somewhat hassling with the bigger and heavier boxes, as well as your lock of foresight to organize the boxes better in your attempt to get out as fast as possible. You put away books that were mixed with old CD’s and video game cartridges. Some you mixed mugs with décor. All of them were a surprise because you didn’t label a thing.

But as the sun set and you were finishing your last box you pulled out your old Ouija board, you had played with it a little too much at your old apartment. Convinced that several people died in the dark hole of a place, the mold grew too quickly and it was far too depressing compared to your older neighbor who had a delightful little apartment. But now you came face to face with the board in a house you knew for sure someone died in. A devilish idea popped up in your head.

So you pulled it out of the box and set it down on your coffee table and set it up, even pulling over the candle left for you to add to the scary atmosphere despite the apple scent. You took a deep breath and cleared your mind.

“Is anyone here?” you call out to the empty and dark room. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears with how silent it was. Dead silence hung in the air, but as you opened your mouth to ask again the planchette started drifting, pulling over to ‘yes’. Your heart leapt into your throat. You're sure it wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you, it moved, it was pulled. Nerves fluttered around, you cleared your throat and asked another question.

“What is your name?” your heart beat louder and you could feel goosebumps on your skin. The wait seemed longer this time, but your hands moved, S-I-R-R-I-S. “Sirris? That’s your name?” and it moved over to the yes.

“Were you the man who died in the fire?” your hand was softly dragged over to yes again. Your head buzzed about. The situation was electrifying, your nerves alight with fear but your curiosity pushed you forward with leaps and bounds.

You asked tons and tons of questions, even questions you had thought of back in middle school came rushing back. You learned Sirris was once a man, single father with a kid named Sydney, who would now be older than you, he was once a teacher, he loved his job, and sadly the fire started due to faulty wiring and started in his room, died before he was even aware there was one.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed, looking at the clock as your eyes began to droop you saw five hours had passed. Your excitement made you forget about the passage of time. You yawned, saying goodbye and blowing out the candle and putting the board away. Your bed was calling you, and with how much you communicated with Sirris you didn’t feel scared by his presence. It felt reassuring, like a father figure watching over you.

Every night you spoke with him, and every night you were more and more delighted by the responses, even showing it to a few friends who begged you to record it after seeing the proof, they had ran out of the house some of them nearly pissing themselves when you lifted you hand and the planchette continued to move. The idea mulled in your head for a bit and you decided that it might be important, you know people look for this kind of evidence all the time. So you resolved yourself one night to borrow your friend's camera, which was a million times better than your phone’s camera.

You set the camera down and took awhile to angle it just right, and make sure there was enough lighting as well as figuring out how night vision worked on this thing. You settled yourself down and began, a bit on edge with the camera rolling.

“Is anyone here?” your fingers drifted along the board and you gently took your fingers off, watching the piece drift without you touching. It’s thrilling as you look over to make sure the camera is picking it up. “Sirris is that you?” and it circled back to yes. You could feel giddy and the smile was impossible to wipe off.

Something was grazing your thigh but you couldn't see it. Even when trying to brush it away there wasn't anything. It switched to the other thigh. You stood up but nothing happened, nothing. "Sirris? Is that you?" There wasn't an answer, just something fiddling with your shirt. It moved like it was being pulled but there wasn't a thing there. An invisible force turned you to the camera as your shirt was pulled up but when you tried to cover up something blocked you again. Was something showing you off to the camera? The realization made all the blood rush to your face.

"Sirris! Please, is that you?" You yelled out, and it scrolled back over to yes once more.

For some reason that made you calm down. There were ministrations over your nipples. Gentle rubbing, circling and pinching in a way that felt incredibly good. Then that trailing in-between your thighs came again. But something inside you wanted more. You shuffled your pants down and felt that force start masturbating you, even making you lean back so your body was on full display for the camera.

What you could only explain as Sirris was holding you up as your sex was played with nipples sucked. It's been a while since you’ve touched yourself, things have been so busy, and now this? Maybe you're losing your mind but this teasing feels way too real and way too nice. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

This? This wasn’t bad, not bad at all. You ground your hips back into the force and your moans were spilling out uncontrollably. It felt like you were fucking against cold air that somehow had the power to rub you. You moved and moved until the tension of orgasm finally snapped and you came. The dark ceiling felt like it was spinning and the cold air around you felt so nice.

Your eyes fluttered open and you didn’t even realize you passed out as your eyes squinted against the rays of sunshine going through your blinds. Looking around you found yourself on the couch next to the camera that was still rolling. You rolled over and stopped the feed. Rolling back your face felt real hit when you could see you sex being moved and tugged by an invisible figure. You shit the thing off as quickly as you could.

No way you could show this clip off.

Kylar

The manor had been abandoned since you were a child, you always heard the stories people whispered at tea time, or chanted by campfires. The story of a child, abandoned by their parents and left to rot in the old mansion. How his cries could be heard at night, his grumbling stomach shook the walls if you ever dared to step foot inside, and how he might end up stealing your soul if you angered him.

The stories while they scared most children fascinated you. The macabre was always so fascinating to you and the stores only fueled your curiosity for life after death with the manor being the heart of it all. Throughout your life you had always saved up your money from holidays and birthdays to save up for ghost hunting equipment. Your closet was stuffed with tons of different devices and you told yourself after buying this last piece of hunting equipment you’d finally go into that strange manor.

The day it came in you nearly danced in excitement, hugging the box to your chest as you spun around and looked out your window to the house that everyone in town feared. Tonight you would be the first to break in, in over ten years and explore the place. You excitedly packed up everything, making sure it would be rattled too much, and paced around until it was time to leave.

The moon was high in the sky, shining its full glory over the town and casting tall shadows. It felt like the perfect Halloween night, everything was perfect. Your heart was pounding as you hiked yourself over the massive spiked fence, watching the spikes. The yard was a wild mess, overgrown bushes, vines, and even grass. It was hard to even get through as the wildlife itself seemed to cling and pull you, preventing you from going inside. Enough tugging and pulling got you to the side window that had been busted open by a stray ball and using a stick you pushed out the rest of the brittle and grimy glass.

The inside was musty, filled with dust and mold, the floorboards squealed as you climbed inside and looked around. Odd, quiet, and rotted but it also had a strange elegance to it. Old wood pillars, a winding staircase and tons of old décor. It was as if it was frozen in time with a layer of dust. You scrambled your way deeper taking a bit to look around the place. Room after room felt like a treasure trove, undiscovered, untainted by the world outside.

It was strange, you felt almost drawn to somewhere, and you followed that feeling. Up the staircase, down the hall, and the fifth door on the right. There was a bedroom with you that was stained on the bed deep and vile, as well as… human shaped. This was the room.

You took a breath to calm your head, and sat your bag down and took out all your equipment. Within what seemed like moments you had everything set up. It felt like too little time, but still you continued on. You flipped on your recorder and made sure everything was running.

"Is anyone here tonight? Is the boy who died here?" You kept as quiet as you could while leaving pauses for the voice recorder and you asked a variety of questions. When you were done you flipped off the recorder and stuck your earbuds into your laptop as you uploaded the data and played it back.

Your voice spoke out clear as day on the replay, a voice followed. "I am here." Soft, yet not childlike like you were expecting. It sounded like a man.

You asked for his name and the voice came up again. "Kylar…" how old he was? "20." How did he die? "My parents left me here."

You paused the tape. A tad bit older then a child for sure. You were always told this child couldn't be more than 8. You resumed.

Why was he still here? "Lonely." The quality started dropping, turning to static as the voice of Kylar still spoke. "So…" crackle- "very-" sizzle- "lo-"

And the rest was static despite having a few more minutes of questioning. You took it back out again to continue playing with it, but it still let out terrible audio. Broken on the first night out. Everyone said this was the best one on the market. You tossed it, what a waste.

Then a motion detector went off, flashing its bright colors right at the edge of the bed. You stood up and walked over, taking hesitant yet excited steps and as soon as you touched it you felt your body surge as if pushed and fell into the bed. You tried scrambling up but it felt as if the bed was eating you, pulling you in deeper to the stained sheets and mattress.

Your pants were ripped right off your body as something parted your cheeks. Yelling and screaming did nothing as something cold and wet pressed against your sensitive hole. It felt too much like a tongue. Squirming and trying to kick whatever it was you had to bite your lip when a certain lick drove an electrifying spike of arousal up your body. Holy shit, why was that so good? More and more lick made moans spill out despite this fucked up situation, you on a bed this spirit died on! But those horrifically pleasant sensations were drowning out the rational thoughts of your brain.

So much, so wet. Whatever it was, was lapping fluid against your hole and even pushing it inside. Panting your hips instinctively moved back trying to get more of this feeling but as soon as you found a rhythm it pulled away and a mix of desperation for more and a touch or reason flooded your brain.

More, but good God was this really happening? Were you being touched by a ghost? How? How was this happening? And how could you get more?

Your thought process was halted when what felt like lips kissed the back of your neck. That slimy feeling licking up and around your jawline and something poking against your rim. Slowly pushing in you swear you could hear panting and grunting as it feels like a cock was pushed into you.

Pumping in an out before you had time to even take a breath in, it hurt, but in a good filling way. Groaning as it pushes deep inside you it just pulls out to do it again but somehow deeper.

It hurts. It hurts so good. Shoved into the grimy disgusting bed you take more and more as you stare into space moaning now as the spirit dives its cock inside you. You don't even care about the context anymore. You just want to feel good, you want to cum.

Faster and faster it goes and you push back until you cum finally. And as you're riding on the high of it all you can feel something cold shoot inside and it shocks you right out of it. You shoot back up, standing and brushing yourself off in a panic when you remember where you were and you can feel something drip out of you.

Get out. You need to get out. You can grab your stuff in the morning. You yank your pants up as you dash for the door but as you yank you hear some sounds on the outside. Wildly shaking the handing again and again until you hear that it's chains.

… How? You came in here just fine? There's no way it was chained now! Turning to your electronics you could see it all sparking and smoking as if fried. Phone, laptop, camera. Every single bit is broken. Years of money down the drain. And more importantly no way to contact the outside world. No windows, no way out.

Please… someone… Help.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #sirris the science teacher #kylar the loner #tw: noncon #tw: death #ghost sex

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moosemonstrous · 4 months

Text

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - this is a serious operation

Reyes watches Amadeus unpack the ophthalmology equipment with an expression of someone condemned to an electric chair.

“What are you a doctor of again?” he asks. He appears much less jittery than he was in the debrief, but he’s been going up and down since he woke up still on the resonance table. He went out like a light halfway through the MRS scan. Tony thought they’ve actually gone and killed him, but, surprise surprise, he really just passed out after over eighteen hours on the go. Montesi told them to leave him to it and had one of the nurses fetch a blanket.

Is he still in shock? He was definitely in shock when he crawled out of The Charger. He didn’t even ask for his phone back until they were nearly back at the base. But no, somebody in medical would’ve noticed this morning.

Amadeus belatedly remembers he was asked a question. “Technically, I’m not a doctor in any capacity. But I have the manual for these.”

The OCT hasn’t been used since they introduced Mark Threes and the drift technology stopped being quite so dangerous to new users, but it seems to be in a good condition. Nurse Carter had an ophthalmologist from the local hospital come over with his own gear to sort out Reyes’s eye after his accident, and at the time there was no reason to suspect it would be needed again. Amadeus really should know better than trust outside expertise with this kind of stuff.

“I feel like this should have come up before now.” Reyes wrinkles his nose. “How–”

“I’m very smart.” This never seems to be a good enough explanation for anyone. “I could’ve wasted time getting approval from some dusty old people halfway across the world, or done something useful with it. Besides, I basically grew up around academics, it rubs off on you.” It’s not a lie, if he counts Herc’s extended family. Somehow, he doesn’t think Reyes would care for his tragic backstory. “Don’t worry, Tony had me sit the exams before he let me loose on his lab.”

That also never seems to convince anyone – it shouldn’t, for people who aren’t Amadeus – but he has long made peace with it and at least Reyes doesn’t just. Up and leave. He does seem to find it funny, though. It’s weird to see his face do anything but scowl.

“I thought I’m the only underqualified person around here.”

“Excuse me,” Amadeus scoffs. The tomograph blinks to life when he flips the on switch. “I’m exceedingly qualified to take a photo of your eyeball.”

It’s not that he hasn’t noticed it was healing too slowly, but there were so many other priorities along the way. The pressure of a drift has been bursting blood vessels in rangers since the beginning of the program, and while Montesi was a bit concerned about the damage to the pupil, the ophthalmologist confirmed it was nothing to be worried about. At the time.

The software for the scanner comes on a CD, because of course it does. Amadeus is ninety percent sure he’s got a reader somewhere in his desk. His office is permanently in the state of what Tony generously calls a creative disaster, but he only has to move one half-deconstructed drone before he unearths an external CD drive alongside several spare memory ones he’s meant to re-label at some point… Later. At some point later. When he turns to triumphally plug the thing into his laptop, Reyes looks at him with a poorly disguised judgement.

“I have a system,” he lies.

“…Sure.”

Time to get this situation back on track. “Have you had any vision problems?”

“No.” Reyes never reported any pain, although Amadeus is beginning to suspect he’s the type to manfully ignore discomfort until it’s unavoidable. He doesn’t know if leukocoria ever occurs without some blurriness – or if that’s indeed what he saw whenever Brooks changed projector settings – but he can find that out after he’s examined it for himself. “What does this do?”

Amadeus checks the expiration date on the eyedrops before passing them to him. “You look into that lens there for ten minutes, I scan the back of your eye. No touching, and it shouldn’t hurt. At the end, I get a detailed image of the retina, and you avoid bright lights for a few hours. How’s that?”

To no apparent protest, Amadeus consults the manual to get the software going before strapping Reyes’s chin into the tomograph. He doesn’t really expect to find anything out of order – no pain, no sight issues, no headaches unrelated to the drift apparatus – but their new ranger is enough of an anomaly already. He’s not going to risk his solo pilot going the way of Spector – all the potential bursting like a soap bubble on an unasked question.

It takes slightly longer than ten minutes, because just this once Amadeus might have to admit that not having done this before somewhat hampers his confidence in getting the readings right. There’s discoloration around the macula, but that’s hardly a concern – nothing ever looks the same under a microscope as it does in textbook photos, and if he’s being honest, he was worried he’d find the retina already peeling off. The spectral domain view seems to have a little more to it than the example images would suggest, and eventually Amadeus gives in and asks Reyes to put the dilating eyedrops in his healthy eye, too.

“How’s your brother anyway?” he asks, mostly to keep his thinking face at bay. This is why he doesn’t normally work with live sub—with patients. He really should’ve asked one of the nurses to assist, if only to provide the small talk. “Look to the left. Has he been watching the news?”

Reyes doesn’t answer for a long moment. When he does, he sounds like there’s something stuck in his throat: “The children’s centre doesn’t allow jaeger broadcasts until after the fact. Just in case.”

“In case of—? Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Great fucking job, Cho. “Well, it’s been after the fact for a while! Didn’t you call him from the chopper?”

“His phone was off.” Another bout of silence. “His key worker texted me, said he was alright. I’m going to pick him up after this.”

“You’re going to look high for at least an hour,” Amadeus warns him. “And Kate wanted to discuss your media presence.” The eye on the other side of the lens begins blinking rapidly. “Stop that, I can’t scan your eyelid.”

“Who’s Kate?”

“Kate Bishop? She’s Jen’s PR girl.”

“PR.” It’s probably possible to inject more dread into two letters, but not without a lot of effort. “You mean—like an interview?”

There’s no thickening present on the healthy eye, and the difference is minimal. For all that he didn’t think anything would show up, it’s somehow really frustrating that the best he’s got is some minor abnormalities that can probably be explained away with the original damage and not enough sleep. He’ll have to run it by someone who knows better – and maybe ask Brooks to look out for the eyeshine. It was probably just a weird reflection, but it won’t hurt to make a note.

“More like full stage prep and making you memorise the party line. I wouldn’t really know, for some reason she never wanted me in front of the cameras.” He looks up from the laptop. Reyes isn’t prone to going pale, but he’s certainly lost some colour. “You fought a building-sized demon. You can’t be scared of reporters.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. You can move now, I’m done.” Reyes blinks owlishly, trying to refocus his eyes at a normal distance. His pupils are huge from the drops, which gives Amadeus an idea. It’s not that he wants to purposefully interfere with Kate’s job – this is how he shows his fondness, if anyone asks. “You know, if you talk to her now, she’ll have to let you go until you can handle spotlights again. I think... six hours? Should do it?”

“You think?”

“You’re free to get a second opinion.”

That nets him an actual smile. Turns out, Amadeus has a bedside manner after all.

(if you saw fake science, no you didn't. This is technically still a WIP with another part that's supposed to be attached but I can't look at eyeballs any longer without developing a very disturbing fetish so)

#ghost rider pacific rim au #robbie reyes #amadeus cho

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