#but the world needs more cassette content. so!

[happy74827]

Can you do Young Neil x reader ^.^?

Art of the Mixtape

[Neil Nordegraf x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: In true Neil fashion, he gives you the best birthday present he possibly can.

WC: 1942

Category: Fluff

I literally passed out while writing this on the couch last night, so I had to finish it today, but here ya go! Our precious Young Neil 🥰

『••✎••』

In the dim glow of Neil's room, scattered with posters of indie bands and vintage comics, he hunched over his old cassette player. His fingers delicately selected each track, infusing the mixtape with a subtle rhythm that mirrored the beating of his heart.

He knew he was being a little overly sentimental, but your birthday was one of the few times each year he was allowed to be a bit gushy, a rare occasion where he could take his time, choosing his words and actions with deliberate care. It was almost like the world was on pause for a moment as he navigated the relationship.

It was a simple thing, a few notes strung together on tape, but Neil carefully considered every word.

For you, the song's lyrics are more than just lyrics—they are an expression of his emotions, one that would surely be lost on anyone else. But in your hands, he knows you will understand him better than anyone.

"Love is like a fire; the more you try to hold onto it, the faster it burns."

The words are burning into your brain when Neil presses play.

You're still unsure what the song is meant to say, but you've come to realize how much it means to Neil. As the track loops for a third time, you sneak a glance over to him—his eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted. You wonder what he sees in this moment—perhaps he is lost in a memory. You try to picture what he might be thinking of, but you're not sure if your imagination could do it justice.

In the past, you were never very good at interpreting what someone was trying to convey, and the times when you tried to express your feelings always left you with a sickly feeling in your stomach—a heavy knot of nerves that would eventually bubble up into bouts of tears. It's not that you were unaware of what Neil wanted to say, but rather, you were too scared even to imagine it.

The cassette player runs through its cycle a fourth time before the song finishes playing, and Neil's eyes slowly open. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the soft glow of his smile reflected in his eyes. You don't need to say anything because his smile is an unspoken promise of an affection that will last far longer than any cassette tape could possibly play.

His smile fades slowly as he leans towards you. As his lips meet yours, you swear that you can hear the song playing once again in a new refrain—one that promises more than a handful of words.

“Happy birthday…” Neil says quietly, and you swear you can see a faint blush rising to his cheeks. You know how difficult it is for him to be so candidly emotional. You know the words he longs to express—he's told you time and again—but he's afraid to say them out loud.

You're grateful for that. You know it's not an easy thing for him.

You kiss him again and smile.

"Thank you... I love it."

"It's nothing, really. Just uh, small gift." He looks at you with his warm, tender gaze, and you know he's worried you might not like it. "I know you like the vintage stuff, and uh, I found this old cassette player, so I just thought—"

You gently place your hand on his.

"Neil... thank you."

He averts his gaze, and you can see that he's bashfully smiling. He tucks his hair behind his ear and shakes his head lightly.

"I, uh, I'm glad you liked it."

He turns to look back at you and gives you another gentle smile. He seems content just to gaze upon your face, but you don't mind it. After a long moment, he glances down and turns his attention to the cassette player in his hands.

"There's uh, there's more. If you want to hear them..."

He holds the cassette player out to you. You take it in your hands. You turn the cassette player over in your fingers and feel its weight. It's an old cassette player—you know he had to have spent some time scouring thrift shops for it. It's one of the few things he owned that had a personal attachment to it. He was the one to first introduce you to mixtapes and indie music, after all.

You glance down at the player and then back at Neil. He's looking at you expectantly. You know he's hoping for a particular reaction. It's only natural that he would expect that sort of response from you. But, as he's well aware, it's not something that comes so easily.

You smile and nod.

"Of course."

You open the cassette player, and another one of the tracks begins to play. You recognize the melody—it's the song Neil played for you the very first day you met him. The song was a lot more incoherent then, but now the melody is clear. Neil put some time and effort into choosing each track. You can see it now in the careful way he arranged the songs on the cassette. He'd gone out of his way to create a playlist that fit your preferences.

"It's beautiful."

Neil seems surprised to hear your voice, but it quickly melts into a soft smile.

"You think so?" He hesitantly reaches out to touch your hand, and you can see his cheeks turn a shade darker. He runs his fingertips along your palm and gently traces the lines of your hand. "I wasn't sure if... I wanted to get you anything since I know you don't really like, uh, receiving gifts. I just wanted to make something for you, I guess..."

He looks at you, and you see a hint of nervousness in his expression. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, and his expression softens. You smile, and he smiles back.

"I love it," you tell him.

Neil smiles wider, and you know that he knows you're sincere. The tension in his shoulders visibly relaxes as he looks back at you. He nods in reply.

"Good," he says. He pauses for a moment, and then he continues, "I wanted to make something for you, but, I dunno, I didn't know if it was right for you or... it would have been too weird..."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Too weird?"

Neil shakes his head and glances away. "Well, I wanted to make something, like, something you might have liked, but I just... I dunno, I kept thinking that you might not be interested and, uh, I thought, I mean, you're so cool, you know, and..."

You laugh as he begins to ramble. You squeeze his hand and gently pull him closer to you. He tries to look away from you, but you reach up to cup his chin, turning his gaze towards you. You kiss his cheek, and he looks away bashfully.

"Thank you," you say softly. "I don't need anything more than this."

He looks at you, and you smile.

"You mean it?"

You nod. "It's perfect."

He glances down and shyly smiles. He hesitantly reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lightly brushing your skin as they trail down. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you feel the warmth of his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, and your smile widens.

The cassette player is still playing softly, but you don't care. The song isn't important, not right now. You have a different song to sing, and the melody you wish to sing is nothing he could ever hope to craft in a tape player.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close as you press your lips against his again. His lips are warm and soft, and you swear you can feel the gentle vibrations as the melody plays out. He relaxes in your embrace and places his hand on the small of your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his fingertips press into your skin.

His breath is warm, and his heartbeat is steady, and the more you hold him, the more you can feel him. His lips are gentle as he returns your kiss, his hands holding you tenderly, and the longer you kiss, the more you long for his touch. The soft sound of his song playing in the background makes you feel like time has stopped, and all that matters is this moment, where your lips are pressed against his.

And even when Stephen barged in, shattering the peaceful silence of the moment, it still wasn't enough to break the spell. Neil looked at you with that same bashful, sweet smile he wore moments ago, and you could feel your heart melting.

Stephen glanced between the two of you, then sighed.

"Neil," he said, "Steph called again. She wants to make sure you’re aware that she’s visiting in two days. Are you?”

“Uh, yeah. I know. I talked to her... earlier.”

“Alright, cool. Hurry up and eat then. We have practice, remember? I can only cover for so long...”

Stephen left the room, leaving you and Neil alone again. Neil smiled sheepishly at you, and you knew that he'd forgotten about the practice session Stephen was talking about. You only halfheartedly remembered the date Stephen had mentioned, but you were more interested in watching Neil's reaction to being scolded.

"He's right," you tell him, "Can’t have Sex Bob-Omb without their bassist."

Neil laughs, and you feel your heart melt at the sound of his voice. “Maybe, uh, you can join us sometime? You could bring your drums or uh... I don't know, like a guitar or something."

You smirk. "Is that an invitation to jam with you guys?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better player than me."

You chuckle and shake your head. "I don't think that's true. Even Scott said you’re better than he was. Even the whole ‘Young Neil’ thing was dropped. I think you should be proud of that. I know I am."

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Of course. I'm very proud of you, Neil."

Neil's cheeks turn a faint pink as he ducks his head slightly. He laughs and shakes his head. "I, uh, I guess that's good to hear, I guess." He glances up at you, and you catch the way he's trying to hide a smile. "Thanks."

You lean close to him, brushing your lips against his cheek. He sighs, and you kiss him again. "You're welcome. I'm glad I get to help Sex Bob-Omb live out its dream."

He laughs softly, his hand cupping your cheek. He kisses you again and pulls you closer. The cassette player is still playing, and you've almost forgotten what song it is. Almost.

"Do you really think I'm good enough?"

You kiss him again and wrap your arms around him.

"You're the best."

His smile grows wider, and he buries his face against your neck. His laugh is soft, and his lips linger on your skin. You squeeze him tighter, and he presses his forehead against you, breathing in your scent.

"Thank you, really," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It’s my birthday wisdom to share."

"Yeah, yeah... Happy birthday, really."

He lifts his head to look at you and smiles, and you're sure there's no place in the world that you would rather be than right here, holding him. Because that’s all you'll ever need—a cassette player, an old song, and your love.

[splashink-games]

Cassette Beasts?

Cassette Beasts is a creature-collecting game by Bytten Studio! Record monsters on tapes, become a Ranger, and find the way off of New Wirral in this amazing adventure!

Spoilers below the cut!!

So I had a plan to write this review before I even finished the game. It was just that good. But! I managed to hold off until I at least finished the main game. Next goal: 100% and DLC! And also buying the OST when I have the chance.

Now, I'm not putting this off until the middle of the review: every musical track in this game is a certified banger. I absolutely loved the music of the game. As one person put it (while I was looking for the OST), I just didn't get tired of the music. And that's a pretty big win for a game where you have so, so many encounters and only a handful of tracks to play.

The way they implement the music is also impressive because it's narratively important. The lyrics work their way in when a fusion happens and during big story battles. The town theme's music plays when you're indoors. Plus the lyrics just feel right with its tones and atmosphere. Also the difference between the few main battle themes is just enough for one to feel more tense/exciting than the others. Just an overall great thing they have going on with the audio.

Okay with that out of the way!

Cassette Beasts is a solid game, actually pretty high tier.

Mechanically, I've seen people compare it to Pokemon. I feel like it's like a mix of Pokemon and Persona. You can record the monsters, remaster (evolve) them at five stars, with some having having special evolution requirements. Monsters can show up as bootlegs, where they're a type other than its base type, which is just like shiny hunting but more (cause there's like 12 types). And I've already killed a plastic bootleg by accident...

The moves (stickers) are mix and match, mostly according to typing. I'm pretty into it cause I love giving my party members all sorts of type coverage. I haven't particularly gone into finding weird strategies yet other than AP Refund, but I can see some cool ones thanks to needing to battle all 12 Ranger Captains.

And then you can fuse! Which I thought was interesting, and it adds an ace to go to when you're in a pinch. But you fusing means that wild monsters (and other rangers) can fuse too. Those provide some fun challenges and opportunities to find bootlegs, plus progression in post-game.

Did I mention that this game is also like a Metroidvania? Capturing certain monsters gives up to 6 overworld movement abilities and I think that's pretty neat. All of them have their uses and none of them are niche, which is a win.

The story was pretty interesting! Dropping in onto a mysterious island and trying to find a way back home is nice and simple and all the detail added around it make it engaging. The Archangels are wildly uncomfortable which I didn't expect and I loved it. Despite loving it, it still did come out of nowhere but greatly forgiven because it was right at the start (and not some random turn in the middle).

The pacing was a bit off for me though because I got like 5 out of 8 song pieces before I even defeated 4 captains or even met all the partner characters. I also don't know how relationship progress works other than fight things and rest. Thinking about it now, there's probably a reason why there a speedrun timer in that you don't have to play through all the content (8/9 archangels, no captains?), I guess.

I liked the references to all sorts of topics throughout the story and I think it's pretty interesting for the characters to be from different timelines. It makes it easy to explain weird inconsistencies.

Funny thing I did by accident for end game's story: I switched out Meredith's Regensea with an Aeroboros cause I wanted her starter in my party. And boy did that choice bite back later lol.

Graphics are also solid. The 3D world with 2D sprites reminds me of Octopath Traveller. I appreciate the non-pixel portrait art for the characters, but I would've liked it either way. The designs of the monsters and the characters are all great! Honestly, I should take some notes from them since even if there's 15+ characters, they still all have very specific designs and personalities to match.

The detail in the world is great too, like the light reflecting off the puddle or the fog that rolls in and the rain. So like weather in general.

Also, as a note just for me, I liked the fonts and font effects that they used. Very cool.

Cassette Beasts is a quality creature-collecting game! If you need another Pokemon/Digimon/Persona, here's a game for you. Or if you just want a cool turn-based RPG with cool music, that's cool too.

As always,

Enjoy gaming!

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (3a) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 2: The Aftermath next: Chapter 3 Boys Are Witches Too (Part B) Ao3 Link - Chapters will be updated ahead of Tumblr Content: steddie fic, 1K words

Last chapter, Steve had a haunting vision of his Nana before comforting Dustin about Eddie's near death. This chapter, family weighs in on Steve's decision to save Eddie and it's time to explain himself to his friends.

Chapter 3 Boys Are Witches Too (Part A)

“Steven, as soon as you get this message, call me,” Mary Harrington’s strident voice carries through the answering machine to Steve’s reluctant ears. He sighs, fiddling with the button that will rewind the cassette, ready to be written over later.

After leaving the hospital, he’s managed to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, in his own bed and without feeling the need to clutch at a weapon.

He had finally washed off the grit, blood, and ash of the Upside Down that had felt permanently embedded in his skin and hair. And the soft material of the sleep shirt and shorts he now wears feels like a sort of balm after the roughness of Eddie’s vest rubbing against his wounds the past few days.

But exhaustion still drags at Steve, and he’s irritated with having just walked into the staircase banister.

The vacant space to the left of his field of vision isn’t debilitating; he can see mostly fine, it’s just that his peripheral vision is off. But getting a hang of it on top of the physical and spiritual exhaustion of fighting Vecna and Eddie’s revival was just another pip on top of the shitty Cherries Jubilee of the past week.

Better than the alternative, he reminds himself. Eddie had woken up, which had broken open a reservoir of relief that Steve thought he’d already dealt with.

But seeing Eddie open his eyes and speak clearly and coherently had released an anxiety that Steve hadn’t even realised he had been worrying at, like unconsciously scratching at a scab.

That he brought Eddie back to life was all well and good, but what if Steve had damaged him in some way? Messed with the threads of destiny to the extent that he brought the other boy back wrong.

He hadn’t though. Other than a brief panic attack that his Uncle Wayne had talked him down from, holding Eddie’s face in his hands, breathing deep and calming breaths together, Eddie was alive and well.

Between the bustle of Hop coming back alive, the intrusion of Doc Owens, and starting to manage the charges against Eddie, Steve hadn’t been able to do much more than nod at the other guy from the back of the room.

Eddie had looked overwhelmed and pale, but he had stared at Steve with an unnerving intensity. Steve wonders whether he looks so ugly now with the one white eye that Eddie hadn’t been able to look away. Like a terrible car wreck on the side of the road.

And now his mother wants to talk to him. It’s been 48 hours since he reached across worlds and pulled Eddie through, and his mother Knows and wants to talk to him.

It wasn’t that long ago that Coleman had brought him into the principal’s office to discuss the ‘dangerous road’ he was taking as his grades tanked and he quit the swimming team. This feels unpleasantly similar.

He punches in the Chicago office number through to her direct line and greets her before she says anything.

A pregnant pause hangs in the air before she quietly asks, “What the hell did you do?”

Steve rubs at his forehead tiredly, “Time to break out the wooden spoon, Mom.”

“I can’t believe you did something so reckless. Was it The Sacrifice? Is that it? What did you give up? Not your life obviously, since you’re still able to call your mother two days later.”

She sounds so much like Nana sometimes, he thinks nostalgically. Wishing that she was alive and here to guide him right now.

“My eye. Only the one.”

“Was it Robin?” His mother had gotten to know Robin after the destruction of Starcourt Mall, even if it was only after the disastrous event that she’d been able to return to Hawkins. During their weekly phone calls, she had come to understand how deeply he cares for his friend.

“No, it’s a guy. Eddie. He got mixed up with the Upside Down too and I Saw it, Mom. It was going to be awful.”

“Still, you risked your life, baby.” Steve shifts on his feet as his mother’s voice thickens. Like him, she would rather pinch the tears away than let anyone see her cry so to hear it in her voice makes guilt settle heavily in his chest.

“It was worth it,” he insists.

She audibly sucks in a breath, “He means that much to you?”

“It’s not like that,” he says. “I mean, he’s a good guy,” he adds hastily. “But it was going to affect everyone, it was going to change Dustin.” She knows how much Dustin means to him.

“And,” he continues without much thought, “he really is a good guy. Like the best with the kids, he’s funny, and there’s just so much life to him, you know. I never could have lived with myself if I had done nothing.”

“Okay,” she hums, but Steve can’t tell whether he’s convinced her.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” he assures her.

Steve doesn’t bother to ask whether she’d told his father about what he had done; he’s pretty sure their secretaries have conveyed all communications for the last eighteen months.

During their Sunday phone calls, Mary talks about her work as an environmental lawyer and Steve talks about Robin and the kids; neither likes to delve deeper into their family dynamics.

He gives her a brief outline of the past week, leaving out the more violent events including the final battle, but gives her enough so that she understands that it’s over too.

Her gifts have always leaned more towards the earthy than the ethereal, like Steve’s and his Nana’s. So, when he tells her that he Knows this is done, a deep sigh of relief comes down the line. She hadn’t been able to convince him to leave Hawkins in ‘83 and now she won’t need to keep trying.

He hopes, a week later, standing in his kitchen this time, that his friends likewise accept his story...

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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[prince-toffee]

So, I rewatched the trailer over and over again, I stepped back, organised my thoughts, and I think I get it.

So first the Bad, then the GOOD, because there's actually a lot to like here.

The Bad:

So, the trend of companies kicking actual voice actors onto the curb and replacing them with celebrities continues. I remember being really angry when they first announced the voice cast, and I still am. It's quite literally the most boring, generic casting possible. You can not get much more white bread, milk toast than a Chris and Scar - I want to play an Asian woman and trans man - jo. Also, why is Chris Hemsworth here? Do he really need the money? Did Thor 4 damage his pockets that bad? There are so many talented voice actors that could've been Orion, David Kaye is a prime example Animated Optimus and Beats Wars/Unicron Trilogy Megatron, beloved by fans, if he was announced people would've been over joyed. I love Brian Tyree Henry, and he actually has some experience with va work as he voiced Jeff Morales in Spider-Verse, my original criticism still stands.... And Kegan, oh Kegan, I love you so much, Key and Peele was my childhood, and the Toad performance was perfectly fine, endearing even. But as Bee? I'm sorry, but no, that's not BumbleBee that's just actor/comedian Kegan Michael Key, I can't hear anything else. And it doesn't help that he's handed the worst lines.

Which brings us to the comedy. First impressions are EVERYTHING. And if you fumble that that hurts your film, and the perception of your film. I think that's really the problem here, it's a bad trailer not necessarily bad content. Packing the trailer with jokes for the sake of jokes and having that samey Hollywood liscensed music cringey feel to it. Like the guitar riff that played when the 'This Fall' card came up just made me turn off the video immediately. That's why I recommend watching the trailer without sound. Bee's jokes don't really land for me, I'm sure kids with love it tho, and that's good. But I'm sure all the jokes won't be bad, the final door gag is actually really funny. So I think it was just a bad joke that soured out feel of the tone at the beginning, which is unfortunate because like I said first impressions are everything. Because this is Josh Cooly, of Up, Inside Out, Toy Story 4 fame, I'm sure the film will have an emotional core to it.

A minor thing I don't much care for is having Bee be in the same age range as Orion, in my mind he's always constructed during the war at like the half way mark or near the end, he's the little brother of the group, and now he's old enough to remember Op and Megs before the war. Also he sounds way too old.

Oh, also I don't like Orion's personality.

Good:

Now for the good; I think the animations style is gorgeous. Would have I liked something Spider-Verse/Mutant Mayhem-esk, of course, but what are you gonna do? The stand out here is the environments, a visual feast. This might already be my favourite Cybertron, it's so different yet reminisant of the Cybertron we know. The fact that the surface transformers and shifts and changes is genius, very IDW Phase 2 inspired. And the fact that Cybertron is a techno-organic hybrid world ala Beast Machines is crazy! I love that, and wildlife! I bet that's how we get the cassettes. The character models are great too, you can actually tell what emotion is happening on a person's face. Gone are the days of faces being made up of razor blades and mandibles BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT INSECTS FUCK YOU MICHAEL BAY. THEY'RE PEOPLE! There's the nose, the lips, the eyes, and I can tell where one begins and ends. The eyes are gorgeous and detailed, and the face surface detail has smuges, wear, specs of dirt, metallic texture. Like, you nailed it! It's a person but a robot, you got it!

We see what we assume are the 13 Primes, Alpha Trion being the only survivor, maybe they were killed by the Quintessons and they took over. D-16, a ref to IDW and his toys designation in the toy catalogue, he'll obviously name himself after Megatronus ala TF Prime. He seems to have the Decepticon insignia before meeting The Fallen so maybe Megatronus' face is some sort of religious iconography, the Primes are a religion on Cybertron after all. It's all so fascinating, I can't remember the last time I was so excited to learn more about a new TF continuity.

Orion and D-16 are both miners and or workers, that's a refreshing take, no coptimus here. They've suffered the same way together, I bet story will be about dealing with that pain, what justice means, how far one is willing to take it and where justice stops and injustice begins. I know people are mad that the origins are a little different, but I ask you, different from what? Which continuity are you talking about? TF has never had a consistent singular timeline, and that's what I love about this franchise! It builds on itself with each new continuity! Take a bit of the old, mix it with new ideas and create something fresh, then that old guard leaves and a new team takes over and does the same and the franchise continues to evolve or should I say transform. Like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get, and new incarnations always give second chances to improve apon what came before. No Reboots, no risks means no Skybite, or Nemesis Prime, no Stasis Pods, Sparks, Protoforms, Energon ore, no Star Saber, Hot Shot, Knock Out, Airachnid, no All Spark, no Sari, no Bulkhead, no old grumpy Ratchet, none of that. Reboots are a part of this franchise's DNA. I sense the people that are complaining are the people who only value one continuity and discard all others.

It's really neat this universe's version of The Cast System is lower class worker protoforms being denied a Transformation Cog, it seems like it's reserved for the higher classes, the very thing that makes their species special and unique is denied to them. Also I didn't notice it the first time, but Alpha actually pulls the t-cogs out of the dead Primes which kind of signifies a passing of the guard, the old Primes failed, now it's your turn, and of course history repeats itself with the downfall of Megatron.

I like how Trion is covered and intertwined with moss and vines and has a beast mode, showcasing that he's of an older era now gone and forgotten.

Some other smaller stuff:

The sun looks like a holographic simulation, which makes me wonder, Cybertron doesn't usually have a sun, but there's plant life now, so what's up?

The cave that the dead Primes and Trion are in kinda looks like a Dweller.

Megatron's black helmet is a ref to Marvel G1.

That spin kick where Elita twirls her entire waist around is sooo satisfying. I love it.

AIRACHNID!!?!!!! MY QUEEN HAS RETURNED!!!!!!!

I think that's a good point to end on. So, yeah, v excited.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #30: Preparation

Masterlist

content: no warnings :)

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was a lot like planning for a vacation, but more stressful. For Heather, at least. Her packing had the frantic, frenzied pace of a burrowing shrew. She came up with a list of things to bring: clothes, food, money, a weapon—better safe than sorry, she told him—coats, water, more food? Toothbrushes, soap, sedatives—she wouldn’t offer an explanation for this one—buy gas, gloves, boots, and so on.

Jackie certainly wasn’t taking this any more seriously than a vacation. He hadn’t gone outside in a while, and besides that, he hadn’t left the vicinity of Heather's house for several months now. He found himself curious as to what it’d be like. Had the world changed at all while he was gone? No longer was he privy to the knowledge free men took for granted. News never reached his secluded life. He wouldn't know if there was high water coming or if the Swedes landed on the sun.

Like Heather, he also packed a few things. Nothing impressive. A new book from Heather’s shelf—something by Oscar Wilde about a portrait—alongside his clothes, a pencil and paper, the dollar bill he'd taken from Matthew, and one of Heather’s old backpacks to carry it all. 

On the second day, she also handed him a heavy, black wool coat. It went a few inches below his hips, and was studded by brass buttons all along the front. 

“I think it looks good,” she offered.

It did look very intimidating in the mirror. He pulled the coat off and shrugged. Petty things like vanity no longer appealed to him. There was no time for such luxuries. He could remember being invested in his appearance, long ago. He missed being able to care about stupid things. He missed buying his own clothes. Heather’s fashion sense was okay, but it wasn’t the same.

There was also the matter of the cop, with his warning of returning in two weeks or so. Evidence was key, and they needed it gone. With a gallon of gasoline and an old firepit in the yard, Heather burned the tapes, the cassette recorder, the polaroids of Jackie’s open chest and exposed organs, hell, even the ropes. It all went up in flames, went black and curled around the edges, until there was only a pile of ash and char. She cleaned the blood off her tools and gutted the house of stains from the inside-out. 

The third day arrived with a flurry of snow outside. The intensity of the sun was wholly unfamiliar to Jackie, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. They shoved their luggage into the back of the car. Jackie was happy to learn that he could sit in the front.

“What?” she said when he let out a sigh of relief. “Did you think I’d keep you in the trunk?”

He laughed at this, but it was an uneasy smile he wore. It was hard to tell with her. What sorts of things she found ridiculous, and what lines she wasn’t opposed to crossing. 

Still, things were generally okay. He was safe. He was out of the silence, out of the isolation, and he felt okay. He felt happy. Before this, his happiness was brief and based on whatever small luxury could distract him. Maybe a painkiller, maybe a break from the tests. But his happiness now was more of a pervading contentment. It was a constant, heavy high in his heart, felt in the far edges of his soul.

Although he had found it redundant, Heather had an idea with strings of thread. Before they left, she taped up a string near the front door, and also to the hallway’s entrance. This, she informed him, would reveal if anybody had come in and searched the house. The thread would snap easily when someone walked through it. It wasn’t clear what the benefit of this knowledge was, if she would go to jail either way, but it seemed to calm Heather down a bit.

The wind scratched at Jackie’s face when he stuck his head out the window. The flecks of falling snow pierced his skin. The cold stung his eyes, making them water. He didn’t care. The feeling of movement and freedom was exhilarating. Heather started the car with a jerk of the gear shift. And off they went, out of the house, into whatever lay behind the highways and empty roads.

He rolled the window up after a while, then turned to her. “How long are we leaving for?”

“Three weeks.” Her grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to nearly bruise. “Longer, if we need to.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Stop asking me questions, I’m going to be sick.”

Indeed, her expression had not shifted from dull panic. There were dark circles under her eyes. Something played on the radio, but the melody was too quiet to recognize. She turned it off with a small, barely noticeable frown. 

Jackie left the subject alone and leaned his face against the window. This was the best day of his life, he thought. 

The sky was starting to turn black. They left the house late, to draw as little suspicion as possible. Streetlights shone like cat’s eyes on the sides of the road, streaky and long with motion. He thought he saw a few people, passing by, their faces blurry and indistinct. There were trees, pines with bristling needles, bare birches, old oaks. Snow stained the sidewalks in shades of dirty white. There were one or two other cars, but not many. Maybe it was a holiday. Maybe it was Christmas.

“What’s the date?” he asked.

“I told you, stop asking—” The tension eased from her shoulders, but only slightly. “Sorry. I’m tired. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Well, he could wait. He was good at waiting. Jackie wondered how long he had been waiting, locked down there—it could have been weeks or years, and he would never know. But that was behind him, now. That was in the past. He could file it away with all his other bad memories. There was no point in dwelling on it. He had lived, and he would continue to live, and that was all. It was nothing to worry about.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

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Diary of a Hawkins Hussy: A Stranger Things x Reader Anthology

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Master List

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, drug references, age gap, groping, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, dom/sub dynamic, use of a shock collar (do not try this at home), use of restraints, edging, orgasm denial, light crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, light squirting, problematic characters

Word Count: 12.5k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Diary Entry #1: Martin Brenner

May 28th, 1983

Dear diary,

Today marks the day I officially join the adult world. I just got back from graduation. I'm still dressed in my cap and gown, with my diploma sitting in front of me on the desk. I did it, those four years of hell we all call high school are finally over. I'm free. And now, I can focus my attention on my true ambitions in life. No more Chem flashcards or asshole teachers telling me what to do. No more Mom and Dad policing my every move. Nope. I fully intend on doing the one thing I've been itching for from the moment I saw that 'Help Wanted' sign in the shop window. I'm going to work at Waxed Out Records downtown, as an assistant manager.

Waxed Out is the coolest store Hawkins has to offer, though it doesn't have much by way of competition. I've always loved going there, ever since I was a kid when Mom would bring me along on her trips to pick up the new ABBA or BeeGees. Music is my lifeblood, I can't go a single day without listening to some form of it. I've dedicated almost my entire (though limited) existence to curating my collection of vinyl and cassettes, expanding my tastes as far as the eye can see. I love it all, rock, hip-hop, pop, country, blues, jazz, disco, metal, the list goes on. I'm the perfect candidate to work at Waxed Out. I only hope the lame owner, Mr. Harris, will see that at my interview tomorrow. But until then, it's a relaxing night of Stevie Wonder and weed to calm my nerves. I'll let you know how it goes.

May 29th, 1983

Dear diary,

I got the fucking job! Mr. Harris was totally impressed by my extensive knowledge of all things music! I knew I had this in the bag, but I'm so excited, I could just scream! My hand is absolutely shaking as I write this, you have no idea. I start next week, and my first shift can't come soon enough. I need to get the hell out of this house, and into my own place. It shouldn't take long, I've saved up all of my graduation money in a very special hiding place. Just a couple hundred bucks more, and I'm finally on my own. I won't have to listen to Dad tearing apart the house, searching for things to pawn off to buy more booze. It's a good thing I have multiple self-installed locks on my door, or else my collection would be toast. I also won't have to listen to Mom telling me how much of a drain on her I am, or her lectures about 'ambition' and 'wanting more for myself'.

I like to think I am very ambitious. I got this job all on my own, and I'm saving up my pennies like my life depends on it. I know exactly what I want out of life. Simple pleasures, like music and sex. More on that particular subject, I highly intend to expand my current hook-up pool. High school boys (and girls) were all well and good while I was still under the legal definition of a child. But I'm a woman now, and I have every intention of bagging any man or woman that catches my eye. From freshly graduated young women, to strong men in their fifties, and everything in between. As long as they're hot, nothing else really matters. And in that department, Hawkins sure knows how to deliver. Chief Hopper, Mayor Kline, Joyce Byers, this one white-haired guy in neatly pressed suits that comes to town every so often...I'm getting a little turned on just thinking about it. More to come later, probably about my first day of work.

June 1st, 1983

Dear diary,

You'll never guess who came into the shop on my first day of work today! It was none other than that guy with the white hair I mentioned before. I didn't learn much about him, except that he really likes classical music. He picked out some Bach and Mozart, which isn't usually my strong suit. It sounds pretty and all, but it comes off a little hoity-toity, if you know what I mean. But it makes sense for a guy like him, he seems very intellectual. Oh, you should've seen him. It took everything in me not to stare as he browsed the classical section. But his hair was styled neatly as it always is, though a little longer than what's typical for a man his age. And he had on this grey suit that fit him extremely well...I managed to get a couple good glances at his ass. And shit, he must have a Soloflex at home, or something because...it was as tight as a twenty-year-old's, I swear.

He didn't say much. He smiled at me when he came up to the register, and I could totally feel my cheeks burning bright red. It was embarrassing, at first. But if my mind wasn't tricking me, his smile got wider at my reaction. I didn't bother to say much to him, I know I would've made a complete and utter ass out of myself if I tried. But I managed to get out a 'thank you' once I'd rung him up and he paid. He said he'd be back in a couple weeks, almost like it's a routine for him. I'm not sure why, there's only so much Beethoven and Chopin in the world, ya know? But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't counting down the days until that gorgeous, yet mysterious, man with blinding white hair comes walking through the shop door again. Safe to say I won't be able to get that smile of his out of my mind either...fuck me.

June 15th, 1983

Dear diary,

It happened. He finally came back, and this time, we actually had a bit of a real conversation! I (mostly) managed to keep myself together this time, and I'm beginning to think that he likes me. At least, I hope he does...

You hear the little bell hanging above the front door to the shop tinkle, signaling for you to repeat the phrase Mr. Harris has trained into you. "Welcome to Waxed Out. Let me know if I can help you find anything." You say flatly, not looking up from the romance novel you picked up from Melvald's earlier this afternoon. You hear purposeful steps clicking on the linoleum, taps and drags of men's dress shoes on a path to you.

"Yes, miss..." A voice you recognize speaks just across the counter from you. You look up from your book, realizing it's the exact man you've been hoping would return. He's wearing a charcoal suit this time, but that seems to be the only thing that's changed about him. He smiles at you, eyes flicking to your chest to read your name tag. "...Y/N. I was wondering if you could help me find something in particular." He speaks in a calmly commanding, slightly gravelly voice. You hadn't heard much of it upon your first meeting, but it certainly sounds very pleasant to your ears. He carries an odd air of authority, which just as bizarrely makes you want to follow any orders he might give you.

"Sure thing, sir. What did you have in mind?" You reply kindly, coming out from behind the register in preparation to locate whatever it is he's looking for.

His eyes follow your form as you come over to him, and you realize just how tall he is in comparison to you. He's well over six feet, which only adds to his intimidating nature. He seems a bit distracted by you, though, as it takes him a moment to answer you. "Oh, yes. Well, I was hoping to find something for my...daughter." He says with a strange pause put before that final word. Your heart sinks at this revelation, and you suppose he's probably married, too.

"Oh, I see." You reply, and you're sure he can see your face falling slightly at this bit of information. You force yourself to perk up, to make the sale, even if your hopes to potentially sleep with this man have been dashed. "How old is she?" You ask, clasping your hands behind your back.

"She's about to turn twelve, so this would be a birthday gift." He replies, still smiling at you. You take a peek down at his hands, looking for a ring. But they're nestled in his pockets at the moment, leaving you without that small piece of evidence to confirm your suspicions.

"Oh, that's nice." You say awkwardly. "Do you know what she likes? Or did your wife give you a list?" You ask, trying to crack a small joke. But his face hardens, which makes you immediately regret asking.

"No wife, I'm afraid. She died when Ele— Jane was very young." He says, bringing the smile back slightly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—" You try to apologize, but he puts a hand up to stop you.

"That's quite alright, you couldn't have known. But I raise Jane all by myself, and it's hard to know what girls her age like. So, I was hoping your female perspective could help me with that." He gestures at you, his smile widening again.

"Yeah, sure. Um, let me see what we have here..." You trail off, going around to the other side of the store towards the soundtrack section. Musicals are usually a pretty safe bet. Wholesome enough for parents to approve of, while also entertaining enough for kids of all ages to get something out of it. You flip through the records, digging out Grease, The Wizard of Oz, and The Music Man. "I think these are pretty good options. What do you think?" You're about to turn around to bring the albums over to the man, but you find that he's been standing right behind you this whole time. You bump into him in the process, and his close proximity startles you. "Jesus!" You gasp when your record-full hands meet his chest.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that." He says with a laugh, putting his hands on your shoulders to calm you. "Are you alright?" He asks, gazing down at you with concern.

You try to speak, but all words have escaped you in this moment. You're too busy getting lost in his eyes and taking in how strong and firm his hands feel as he touches you. You find yourself wondering how they'd feel while touching you in other places, which you realize is wildly inappropriate. A harsh blush creeps up your cheeks, and you force a thick swallow down your throat before answering him. "Yeah, I'm good. But, uh...here." You hold the records out for him to look at. He takes them from your hands, and you're finally able to breathe easy again. "Do any of these look alright? If not, I can keep looking." You add, wanting him to leave as a satisfied customer. If you do well here, maybe he'll come back again...and again...and maybe for more than just music.

"These look great, Y/N. She's going to love them. You mind ringing me up?" He says, drawing your eyes to his again.

"Oh, you're going to buy them all?" You ask curiously. Parents are usually pretty stingy when it comes to getting albums for their kids. Perhaps it's a fear of the discs getting scratched or broken.

"Why, yes. Should I not?" He questions, raising an eyebrow at you.

"No, no. I just meant...I wasn't sure you'd do that, I guess." You fumble over your words, walking the both of you over to the register now. Perhaps some distance from him will help you calm the fuck down. If you come off too doe-eyed and naïve, he may not have much interest in you.

"Well, let's just say you're a very good saleswoman." He chuckles, the sound of which stirs something inside you. You punch in the prices on the stickers Mr. Harris put on said albums, which comes to a total of sixteen dollars.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." You giggle, biting your lip slightly before taking his payment. He pays with a credit card, from which you nosily read the name of its owner. Martin Brenner. He doesn't look like a Martin. Although, you suppose you don't know what he does look like, either. You bag up the records for him, handing them and his card back to him, as well as a receipt. "Here you go, sir. I hope Jane enjoys the albums." You say sweetly.

"I'm sure she will, thanks again for the help. And please, call me Martin. I'm sure I'll be back here again soon. You've got good taste, Y/N." Martin winks at you, before heading towards the door to leave.

"See you 'round, Martin." You say cutely as he leaves, earning another pleased glance in your direction. Once he's walking down the street and towards his car, you double over onto the counter to take some deep breaths. "God, that man is sexy as hell." You say aloud to yourself, overwhelmed with the entire interaction that's just transpired. You know he's a bit advanced in age, but Martin sure knows how to flirt. You're a little weary of the fact that he has a kid and everything, but it's not like you're looking for anything long-term. You just know you want to fuck him, even if it's only once. You can tell there's something secretive about that man, and you're dying to have a peek behind that proverbial curtain to see exactly what it is.

June 26th, 1983

Dear diary,

Martin hasn't come back the the shop in a while. It seemed like things went pretty well the last time he came in, but who knows. Maybe he was just being polite. I haven't even seen him very much around town like I used to. I suppose he could be busy with his kid, or something. Being a single father can't be easy. But I can't help it, I think about him all the time. He's so handsome, and the way his hands felt when they touched my shoulders... They were so warm, and felt firm and strong. I replay that moment over and over in my mind. I even dream about him now, about everything I think he might want to do to me.

The dream is almost always the same. I'm at the shop, and Martin comes in. There's no one else around, and he's not there for records this time. He's there for me. He comes right up to the counter with purpose, beckoning me out from behind it to put myself in front of him. He caresses my cheek, before leaning down to kiss me. He's gentle and tender, and his hands lift me up to sit on the edge of the counter. We kiss for a while, enjoying the moment. 

Now, this is where things really heat up...he undoes my jeans, pulling them and my panties down to my ankles. He reaches between my legs, and he puts his fingers inside me. They're thick and long, and they feel so damn good. While he does that, I unbuckle his belt, and open up his slacks to pull out his dick. He's fucking huge, at least, he is in the dream. I pump him in my hand a few times, and he lets out a quiet groan while staring down at me. He's so damn hot, I can barely stand it. He pulls his fingers away, and takes hold of his cock himself. He gets closer, and shoves himself into me. Once he starts, he doesn't slow down. He fucks me fast and hard, and I like it. He holds me down while I squeal and squirm for him. He grunts and growls with every thrust, railing me against the counter until I'm screaming his name.

I always wake up right after I cum, having to change my panties because I've soaked through them from my orgasm. It's clear that I want Martin to an embarrassing degree, I only hope he will want me just as much. Time will tell, diary. Time will tell.

June 30th, 1983

Dear diary,

Martin came in again today. He seemed...off. He still talked to me, nice as ever. But it was like he was stressed out about something. Our transaction was very short this time around. Every passing second where he didn't look at me, or touch me, or talk to me felt excruciating. All I could think of was the insane desire I felt to just go up to him and make my intentions perfectly clear. I was shocked to find I hadn't actually done it, the fantasy became extremely vivid. But when Martin came up to register with a couple new picks, and his cock still in his pants, the daydream quickly dissolved into shame.

I realized that I probably shouldn't think and feel so strongly about a perfect stranger like this. All it does as make me feel like a silly child, not to mention I basically gave myself away by blushing so damn much. I mean, I'm only eighteen years old. What could an experienced, well-established man like him possibly find desirable in me? Who knows, maybe I'll hold out hope a little longer. Maybe if I wait for him to make a move, this might work out. Ugh, I need some weed to think this over.

July 8th, 1983

Dear diary,

You're never going to believe this, I can hardly believe it. Martin came in today, for much longer than all the other times. He really chatted me up, and I was happy to talk to him for as long as I could. It felt like he was waiting to ask me something, but he couldn't quite find the words, or courage. To think, he was the one who was nervous. But once I got the ball rolling on a much-anticipated conversation, it became very clear as to why...

"Oh, hey, Martin. What would you like today?" You chirp as the man walks into the shop. You perked up immediately once you saw him crossing the street, waiting for him to come inside and give you the time of day.

"Afternoon, Y/N. I'm not too sure what I want, honestly." He says oddly, not quite looking your way. He seems anxious, or nervous. Could it be because of you? "But I know I can always trust your recommendations." He turns his head to meet you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets as he comes toward the counter.

"You got it. You lookin' for more classical? Or, perhaps you'd like to branch out into something...younger?" You hint, standing before him in a meek pose. You clasp your hands behind your back, and look up at him from under your eyelashes.

"I-I suppose I could try something new." He stutters slightly, looking you up and down. Shit, maybe it's working.

"Sure thing! Follow me." You spin around, your short skirt flouncing upwards at the motion. You lead Martin towards the Lionel Richie and Phil Collins. You figure he doesn't want to waste time on teeny-boppers. He clears his throat before following you, and you smirk to yourself at him losing his cool. You pull out the albums you have in mind, and fully expect him to be standing right behind you again. You guess correctly, but this time, you purposefully put your hands on him when you turn back around. "Oh, didn't see you there. Not a lot of space in these aisles." You speak somewhat suggestively, running the back of your hand along the lapel of his navy blue suit jacket.

"Quite right. What do you have for me?" His eyes flick down to where you're touching him, then to the sultry smile on your face. You give him the albums, and he chuckles while looking them over. "I don't know, Y/N...these might be a little too hip for me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Martin. You seem pretty 'with it' to me. Besides, Lionel and Phil are perfect for when you bring a woman home. If that's your thing, anyway." You continue to run your hand along his jacket, gauging his response to it. He hasn't told you to stop yet. If anything, he seems to enjoy it.

"It's been a while since I've done that, actually. Much longer than I'd like to admit." He says, somewhat embarrassed.

"I don't believe that for a second, you're way too handsome." You compliment him, still testing the waters.

"Oh, you don't mean that. A young lady like yourself surely has no interest in someone like me." He shakes his head, laughing at your suggestion. He probably thinks you're really trying to sell him on the vinyl, but you honestly don't give a shit about that.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Martin. I personally find you...very attractive." You speak lowly, turning your hand over to actually touch his chest now. Your palms creep up along his clean white shirt, and you gently take hold of his necktie. "And I'm not just saying that to sell you more records." You give him as sincere a look of desire as you possibly can, batting your lashes to make it clear to him what you're looking for.

Martin thinks it over for a moment, contemplating that you could potentially be a really good time. But he shakes his head, sighing deeply. He can't possibly take such a young woman home. It wouldn't be right...would it? "I-I'm flattered, Y/N, really." He sets the records down, taking hold of your hands. "But I don't think I could give you what you're after." He says sadly, already kicking himself for denying his desire to have you. He's been thinking about it for weeks, but he's sure you couldn't handle what he truly has in mind.

"Why do you say that?" Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. You were sure this would work. Doesn't he like you? Doesn't he think you're pretty?

"Forgive me for coming off a bit crude, here. But I'm just not sure that you're mature enough to handle the kinds of things I'm into, intimately speaking." You're confused by his words, you don't understand what he means by that.

"And how would you know?" You ask, becoming irritated with him for thinking you're some immature girl. He scoffs, surprised by you.

"I guess I don't, Y/N. But I wouldn't want to hurt you. I really like you. I think you're very pretty, and sweet. I'm just not sure it's a good idea." He shakes his head again, putting your hands down before pulling his own away.

"Well...maybe I'm not afraid to get hurt, Martin." You smile again, his attempts to deter your interest have only piqued it further. "It's very simple, really. I want to sleep with you. I don't care what you're into, I got up to some pretty crazy shit in high school. But if you really don't want me, that's fine. I can find someone else if I really want to." You figure there's no use for formalities at this point, so you lay it all out for him. The ball is in his court now, it's only a matter of if he wants to play.

He sighs again, still unsure of what to do here. "You make it very difficult to say no to you..." He says, pausing as he reads your expression. He supposes it can't be all bad, you're the one coming on to him. If you really want this, then who is he to deny you? "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Y/N?" He asks, cupping your cheek like he does in your dreams.

"Yes, I want this more than anything." You reply breathlessly, unable to believe this may actually happen. There's a tense moment of silence between you, and he finally nods in agreement.

"Alright. What time are you finished here?" Martin asks.

"Nine o'clock." You answer, biting your lip in excitement.

"Perfect, I'll pick you up. In the meantime, would you mind ringing me up for these?" He smiles, picking up the records you've chosen for him.

"Okay." You practically skip over to the register, though you don't really want him to leave. You bag up his purchase, and he makes his way out onto the street. You'd been hoping for a goodbye kiss, though perhaps that would've been too weird. You glance over at the clock, finding that you have two whole hours left before closing time. You pick up your novel, but you find it hard to focus on the words. All you can think about is what Martin could possibly like in bed that he thinks would be 'too much' for you. Handcuffs? Been there. Whips? Done that. Spanking? Roleplay? Anal? Check, check, and check. High schoolers are way kinkier than anyone gives them credit for. You can't come up with anything else, so if anything, you'll show Martin just how well you can keep up. You hope that'll impress him, for some reason.

The time passes excruciatingly slow, but thankfully a few more customers come along to distract you for a while. You make four more sales before the shift is over, not too bad for a record store in a less-than-booming small-town downtown area. You gather your things at 9pm on the dot, and head for the door with keys in hand. You step out into the muggy night air, turning your back to the street while you lock the door to the shop. You suddenly feel a figure behind you, who extends a hand to grab hold of your waist. You jump and let out a small scream, whipping around to see who it is.

"Shit, Martin! You scared me!" You say once you see that it's just your new conquest who's been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry. Are you ready to go?" Martin asks, slowly pulling you into him by the hip. He takes a second to get a good look at you, as if he hadn't already done so while you were helping him in the shop. He finds you to be very alluring, in your Cyndi Lauper t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, and the short skirt that barely covers your behind. Not to mention your beautiful face, without a single blemish or sign of age to be found.

"Ready when you are, Martin." You reply suggestively, running your hands up and down along his shirt again. Your touch seems to break him out of his trance, and he turns the two of you to head towards his car. It's slick, and black, with a driver and everything. "Nice wheels." You comment, sliding into the seat while the driver holds the door open for you.

"Thank you." Martin replies smoothly, getting in after you. He sits very close to you, and the driver closes the door behind him.

"So, where does a man like you live around here, hm?" You ask coyly, putting your hand on his thigh. He peers down at you, watching your every move. You've noticed he's pretty restrained overall, very methodical with his movements and reactions.

"Oh, it's a humble house, really. Not far from here." Martin replies, and you nod.

"'Humble', huh? Does your job not pay you enough to have a large house and a driver?" You giggle, bringing your hand a little further up his leg. "I guess I never asked, what do you do for work, exactly?" You question curiously.

"I work in government, at the Lab." He replies shortly, too focused on your hand growing closer to his crotch. You're so forward with him, it's kind of throwing him off.

"Oh, I see. I bet that's pretty interesting." You continue on your teasing journey towards his cock. You want to feel him, and play around a bit before you reach his home. You've always had a problem with patience.

"You could say that." He says, just as your fingertips brush against his length. You smirk in satisfaction at finding it, and boldly take hold of it. His throat catches at you groping him, and you find his eyes to see how he's doing. His mouth sits slightly agape, but he doesn't say or do much else. You think he's enjoying this, since he's growing in your hand. But you'd be hard pressed to know for sure.

"Does this feel good, Martin?" You ask quietly, not wanting the driver to hear.

"Y-Yes." He stutters. You continue to touch him over his clothes, becoming very wet yourself as you watch him hold back his noises. He lets out muted sighs as opposed to moans and grunts, but the sound is still more than enough to turn you on further. "We should be there soon, Y/N." He says, taking your hand away from his cock, holding it in his instead.

"Sorry." You apologize, realizing that you've possibly made him uncomfortable.

"Don't be. It's alright. Just be patient for me. Can you do that, Y/N?" He says lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You nod silently, but he needs to hear you answer. "Use your words." He commands in a husky tone, sending a flare of pleasure between your legs. Now I see what he was talking about. Lucky for him, I've played this game many times before.

"Yes, I'll be patient." You answer breathlessly.

"Good girl." He answers simply, smirking at your quick obedience. Maybe you can handle him after all.

...and there we were, off to his house to have sex. I swear, I kept having to pinch myself to make sure it was actually happening, and not some extremely elaborate dream. But every time I felt that little sting of my nails digging into my flesh, all I was doing was driving myself even more crazy. That little confirmation of reality repeated again and again, made me feel all tingly inside. We couldn't get to his home soon enough, I wanted to touch every inch of his body in the back of that car. But I had to be patient, because that's what he told me to do. I could feel it in my soul that disobeying him would have been a very unwise decision...

"Here we are. Home sweet home." Martin says as the car pulls up to a house on the end of a dimly lit street. It's unassuming, the basic 'white-picket-fence' home of the typical middle class worker. It's not unlike your own house, perhaps slightly smaller. But you suppose a single man with a young kid doesn't need very much space. Your mind turns to his daughter, Jane. You wonder if she's home, and if she'll be upset that daddy brought home some random girl.

"Is your daughter home?" You ask nervously.

"No, no. She's at a friend's house tonight. Don't worry, we'll be all alone." He chuckles at your concern, he finds it very sweet.

"Oh, okay. Good, I'd hate to have upset her." You reply, waiting for the driver to open the door to let you both out.

"I appreciate that, Y/N. But please, I'd hate for the evening to focus on Jane. Especially when I've brought such a beautiful young woman home with me." He says warmly, gently pulling you along as he steps out of the vehicle. He leads you to stand upright, and you both walk to the front door. He unlocks it, letting you inside. The interior is exactly as you expect, a warm little house for two little people. Children's drawings on the refrigerator, kitschy trinkets on shelves and cabinets, probably left over from his deceased wife. That thought makes you a little sad, though it quickly disappears when Martin wraps his arms around you from behind once he's closed the door.

"Hey there, handsome." You giggle, leaning back into him for a moment. "I love your home, it's very cozy."

"I'm glad you think so, Y/N. It does get a little lonely sometimes." He speaks softly, lowering his head to press a kiss to your neck. You sigh blissfully at finally having his lips on you, they're very warm and soft.

"Well, hopefully I can help with that. At least for tonight." You reply, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. He responds well to this offer, planting more blazing kisses to your throat. He doesn't nip or suck your flesh, which would usually disappoint you. But the way he's holding you close like this makes it feel just as passionate. His hands wander up your body, palms brushing over your shirt. He stops just below your breasts, apprehensive to venture further. "Go ahead, Martin. I want this." You murmur, turning your head to look back at him. He seems different now, the air between you has changed. The atmosphere has become charged with expectation and anxiousness, and you can feel his erection prodding against your ass. He resumes his journey upwards, carefully cupping your tits over your shirt. You let out a quiet moan, gazing at him as you do so. He smiles at the sound, pressing a little harder with his hands to earn another one.

"Shall we take this upstairs?" He asks lowly, and you nod. He lets you out of his grip, stepping ahead of you. He takes your hand, leading you up the steps to his bedroom. You pass a quaint bathroom, and what looks like a kid's room along the way. You don't bother to take more than a small peek inside, you'd hate to come off nosey. Martin takes you to a room at the end of the hallway, pushing the door open to reveal the master bedroom. It's still as warm and cozy as the rest of the house, dressed in those signature hues of yellow, orange, and brown left over from the 1970s. He gestures for you to sit on the bed, and you take a seat on the edge of it. You take your shoes off, and he removes his suit jacket.

"So, what's this strange 'thing' you're into, Martin?" You ask curiously, setting your bag down on the night table beside you.

"You'll see soon enough. But I'd like to...get to know you a little bit first." Martin answers, giving you a look while undoing his tie. He loosens the knot around his collar, before slipping the loop over his head and untying it entirely. "Have you ever been tied up before?" He asks, holding the ends of the tie in his hands with purpose.

"Yes." You reply simply. He nods, bringing the tie over to the bed. He lays it out neatly beside you, presumably to be used later. "Should I...take my clothes off?" You ask, becoming a little unsure of yourself.

"Not yet. I'll tell you when and how to do everything. Is that alright?" He speaks firmly, expecting you to agree.

"Yeah, that's fine." You say casually. You watch as he hangs up his jacket, and methodically takes off his shoes before placing them neatly in his closet. He comes over to you, sitting beside you on the bed now.

"You're very beautiful, Y/N." Martin says, brushing a loose hair behind your ear.

"Thanks." You blush, looking down at your feet. He puts a finger under your chin, bringing your head up to face him again.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes. Please." You reply, you've been waiting for him to do this for a very long time. He brings his face closer to yours, and your eyes flutter closed in preparation. His lips meet yours, and you immediately melt against him. "Mmm." You hum into the kiss, following his small movements. He doesn't use tongue, you suppose he's a bit old-fashioned that way. But you don't mind, he's still a very good kisser. He pulls away, taking your breath with him.

"Take off your shirt, please." He orders politely, clearing his throat. You do as he asks, pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the floor. You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his next move. "Pick it up and fold it." He says, a serious look on his face.

"Oh. Sorry." You laugh nervously, bending down to pick up the shirt. You follow his instructions, holding in neatly in your lap now.

"Now, put it on the table." He says. You do, and he smiles again. "Good girl." You face him again, wondering what he's going to ask you to do now. He doesn't say anything else, but he reaches his hands forward toward your chest. His eyes flick to yours, asking for permission. You nod, and he grabs hold of your breasts through your bra. You moan at his touch, quickly becoming hungry for so much more. He massages your tits, almost as if he's inspecting them. You oddly feel a bit like an expirement, and he's taking mental notes of your behaviors and reactions. "Does this feel good, Y/N?" He asks in a neutral tone.

"Yes." You breathe. You decide to try and strip him down a little bit too, reaching over for the buttons on his shirt. His eyes follow you, almost waiting for you to break an unspoken rule. You stop in your tracks. "Can I?" You ask, biting your lip anxiously. You want to see him, but you don't want to make him angry.

"Can you what?" Martin smirks, and you see now that you need to use your words again.

"Can I unbutton your shirt, Martin?" You ask, clearer this time.

"Yes, you may. But from now on, call me 'sir'. Okay?" He says.

"Yes, sir." You giggle at how it sounds at first, but if he likes it, then so do you. You resume your desired task, starting with the button at his collar. You push it through the stitched hole, exposing the rest of his neck. You notice Martin's grip tightening a little, which makes you moan again. You wonder if he'll do it every time you undo another button, testing the theory. You open the next one down, and he does the same thing, squeezing harder for a moment, before resuming his gentle massage. You undo the next button, and the next, moaning louder with every squeeze he gives you.

"You make very nice noises, Y/N. Are you enjoying yourself?" He questions, still coming off painfully formal. If it were anyone else, you'd probably be put off by it. But his overall sense of confidence whenever he speaks makes everything he says sound attractive to you.

"Yes. It feels really good." You answer, still opening up his shirt. There's just three more buttons left, and what you've revealed so far is exactly what you were hoping for. This man clearly works out, he's very fit. His muscles aren't anything crazy, but he has not let turning gray slow him down one bit. His chest and stomach are toned, with a small amount of salt and pepper hair in all the right places. You tug the tails of his shirt out of his slacks, undoing the final button. "Your body is amazing, sir." You say breathlessly, meeting his gaze again.

"Thanks. I try my best to stay in shape." He smirks at you finding him so attractive. He massages your chest more roughly now, drawing more noises from you. He leads you to lie down, with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He presses his lips to yours again, one hand leaving your breast to slip under your back. He unclasps your bra, and slides the straps down your shoulders. He folds it up nicely while still kissing you, setting it off to the side for a moment. Martin grabs hold of your bare breasts now, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and fingers.

"Mmm." You moan against him, enjoying every second of this. You feel up his own chest, marveling at his firm muscles. After a little while, you want to feel more. You lower a hand down his stomach, over his belt until you reach his erection again. You ghost over it, earning a low groan from Martin's lungs. It's the first one you've heard from him, and it's sexy as hell. You start groping him again, your heart pounding in your chest as you expect him to stop all this and punish you. But he doesn't, he lets you continue to touch him, still letting out those same breathy groans. "Please, sir. I want you so bad." You whimper when his lips leave yours to go to your neck again. You squeeze him a little harder in your hand, wanting him to move things along.

"Patience, Y/N. Be a good girl for me." He pants between kisses on your throat. He loves how needy you are, how badly you want him to touch you and be inside of you. He's never seen a girl so desperate, but he's only getting started. A few minutes later, Martin pulls away. He sits up, taking off his shirt entirely. He stands to go hang it up, and then turns to look at you again. "Take off your skirt." He orders.

"Yes, sir." You answer, standing off the bed to remove it. You fold it nicely, putting it and your bra on top of your shirt on the table. You sit back down, and he smiles at the sight of your pink lace underwear. "What should I do now?" You ask, feeling oddly self-conscious while sitting in nothing but your panties and socks.

"Lie down, Y/N." He says, before digging deeper into the closet for something. You do as he says, putting your head on the pillows. You try to position yourself casually, posing your arms and legs in various ways. But nothing feels right. You decide to stop trying so hard and just lie still, though you're curious as to what he's looking for. He comes back over to you, holding a silver metal box. He puts it on the bed, and silently opens the clasps. He pulls the top open, revealing what looks like a collar. It's a large, tan ring with white, squared nodules around the inner circumference. There's an electronic lock on the side, and a small remote next to it. It appears to be a shock collar, which makes you swallow hard.

"What's that?" You ask, though you feel a bit stupid asking. What else could it possibly be?

"Oh, just something to ensure that you'll follow my every order." Martin answers simply, looking at you with an odd smile. He raises a brow at your widened eyes, closing the lid of the case for a moment. "Do you still want to do this, Y/N? I completely understand if you don't." He offers you one final way out. But you want this, a little shock can't be that bad. It could be a lot of fun...right?

"I want this, sir. I'll do anything you ask." You reply, and he nods. He opens the box again, and takes the collar out of the foam lining inside. He clicks a button on the remote to open the ring, and comes over to you to put it on.

"Sit up for a second." He says, and you do. He puts the collar around your neck, the nodules digging into your throat with light pressure once he clicks it in place. You lay back down once he's finished, and he presses another button to power it on. A low buzz kicks on around your neck, the sound startling you. You gasp slightly, drawing his eyes to you again. "Is everything alright?" He asks, checking in on you.

"Yes, sir." You nod, breathing heavily. He puts the remote down on the table for a moment, and picks up his necktie.

"Put your hands above you head." He commands. He ties your hands together at the wrists with the silk fabric, leaving a small amount of slack so you don't lose circulation. "Good girl." He praises, taking in the image of you in your newly bound state. Your eyes have blown wide with desire as well as fear, your chest rises and falls with heavy, rapid breaths, and the cherry on top is the small wet spot of arousal on your panties. "Are you ready to play, Y/N?" He asks with a grin, very eager to set things into motion.

"Yes." You reply, hoping he'll touch you soon. He's been quite stingy with his touches thus far, drawing everything out for the sake of driving you crazy.

"Good. I only have one rule. If you misbehave, you get a shock. But I'm sure a smart girl like you has already figured that out." He chuckles darkly, almost looming over you from the side of the bed. You nod in understanding. "Perfect." He brings a hand to your chest, carefully caressing the side of your breast. You gasp at his touch, the softness of it sending tingles along your spine. He travels downwards very slowly, going down to your stomach and waist. He meets the hem of your panties, looping a finger around the fabric. He reaches over to do the same on the other side, and gingerly pulls your underwear down your thighs, knees, and ankles. He doesn't fold them up this time, nor does he put them with the rest of your clothes. Instead, he puts them in his pocket to keep as a souvenir of your night together. You don't mind, many guys have done that before. You take it as a compliment, if anything.

You instinctively spread your legs apart a little, expecting him to start touching your pussy soon. But it appears you've guessed wrong, because Martin quickly picks up the remote and presses it. You feel a strong, paralyzing current running through you, making you cry out as your body convulses outside your control. "Fuck!" You huff when he finally stops, your muscles relaxing against the bed.

"I didn't say to move, did I?" He asks angrily, and you shake your head. "Use your words!" He almost shouts at you, holding up the remote as a threat to shock you again if you don't speak up.

"No, sir! You didn't! I'm sorry!" You apologize frantically, fumbling over your syllables. That shock scared you, there's no doubt about it. But you're surprised to find that it also felt...kinda good.

"That's right. Now, have you learned your lesson?" He asks, eyes burning into you as he waits for your answer.

"Yes." You nod. He doesn't say anything else. Instead, he drags his hand lazily along your ankle, creeping up toward your knee and thigh. He draws closer to your cunt, watching your breath hitch and heart skip a beat while you wait patiently for him to touch you. You observe silently as he continues to torture you with waiting so long. You need to feel his fingers on your clit, or sinking deep inside your pussy. You feel compelled to cry and scream for him to give you what you want at this point. But you hold it all back, you have to obey him if you're going to get what you so deeply desire.

Martin's hand reaches your inner thigh, and he presses on further to touch the very outside of your silk. You moan at the sensation, as unsatisfying as it is. "Hmm, so soft." He observes aloud, wondering how often you shave or wax your most intimate areas. He travels deeper, finally making contact with your clit with the very tips of his middle and ring fingers.

"Fuck." You whine, using every ounce of willpower to keep your hips from bucking off the bed. You don't imagine he'd take very kindly to such lack of self-control.

"More?" He questions.

"Yes, sir. Please, touch me." You whimper, begging him with your eyes. He does as you ask, dragging his fingertips along your slick folds. You're quickly heating up as he continues to stroke you, sweat forming inside your pores. He's still very slow and methodical, noting your every sound and expression like before. "More, please." You beg, still resisting the urge to buck and thrash around on the bed. You'd love nothing more than to grind your hips to get yourself off against his fingers.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He smirks, moving further down to press a finger inside your soaked hole.

"Oh, god." You gasp. He pumps the digit in and out of your pussy, brushing against your g spot ever so slightly. Without you needing to ask, he adds another. "Fuck...yes..." You moan breathlessly, your eyes rolling back into your skull. His fingers are the perfect size, as long and thick as you dreamt they would be. He keeps his snail's pace, but you don't even care. He's inside you, and it feels so damn good.

"That's a good girl...do you like having my fingers inside you?" He asks curiously, though the answer reads plainly on your face.

"Yes, sir. You feel so good, I'm so wet for you." You shake your head in the affirmative as you speak, letting him know how amazing he's making you feel. Normally, Martin would have a mind to shock you again for responding in such a vulgar way. But he likes hearing these dirty words falling from your lips. You're different than the others, you're special. You make every single salacious statement sound like lines of poetry to him. This may only ever be a one-time thing, but you'll certainly be one that he'll never forget.

"I'm glad to hear it, Y/N." He says softly, continuing to work you over like it's his day job. He continues to go slow, but your insides are boiling all the same. You can sense your release nearing, and you're sure Martin can as well. "Are you getting close?" He asks, noticing your walls have started to flutter around his fingers. He'd love to see how beautiful you look when you climax.

"Yes, sir. Please, don't stop." You plead as the waves of your oncoming orgasm begin to roll over you.

"I won't, Y/N." He says softly, almost like a promise. It's uncharacteristically sweet, considering he's got your hands tied up while a shock collar sits tightly around your neck. Just a little longer, and you'll be calling out his name. He hopes so, anyway. He certainly likes how it sounds coming from you.

"I'm almost there...can I cum, sir?" You ask, meeting his eyes.

"Not yet, Y/N. Hold it for me, just a bit longer." Martin replies firmly.

"O-okay..." You stutter, gasping slightly when you feel your orgasm about to sneak up on you. You try your best to hold it back, to obey Martin's orders. It's becoming increasingly difficult, however. Your thighs keep twitching, and a constant whine floods from your lips from keeping it all inside.

"Just a little more, I know you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He insists, increasing his pace ever so slightly to up the stakes.

"Fuck...sir, please...I want to be good for you. But I nee—" You beg, which is quickly interrupted by another intense shock. His fingers left you at the last second before he flicked the switch, but the painful waves seem to only extend your pleasure. You continue to moan until he presses the button to stop the electric current.

"I told you to wait, Y/N. Don't make excuses, and don't disobey me." He shoves his fingers back into you, and rapidly curls and thrusts them this time.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, tears pricking your eyes now. He's purposefully trying to make you break the rules, but you refuse to earn another shock anytime soon. You keep your orgasm tangled up in a quickly dissolving chain, waiting for him to give you the go ahead.

"Do you want to release, Y/N?" He asks flatly, peering down at you. He marvels at your resolve to follow his orders, he knows it's taking everything in you to hold on for him. What a strong little thing she is... he muses to himself.

"Yes! Please, sir! I want to cum so bad..." You exclaim, your bound hands helplessly clawing at the pillow beneath your head.

"Go ahead." He nods, giving you a small smile again.

"Fuck...Martin!" You moan loudly as your release takes over. Your thighs quake, and your insides clamp around Martin's fingers. The pleasure is so intense, like nothing you've ever experienced before. Holding off for so long has made your orgasm ridiculously powerful. You're blinded by bright white light that consumes your entire being, and you can't stop trembling and moaning for a good fifteen seconds. He watches this event unfold, his gaze drawn downwards when your arousal spills warmly into his hand. He takes his fingers out of you, grabbing a washcloth to wipe his hand with as you come down. You're left panting wildly, slathered in sweat that's dampened your hair and the bed beneath you.

"Was that enjoyable for you?" Martin asks, as if he didn't just witness you having the best orgasm of your entire life.

"Yes, sir. It was amazing." You gush, smiling uncontrollably at the utter bliss you feel inside.

"Good. I liked it quite a lot, too." He replies, and you hear the jingling of his belt opening. You open your eyes to see Martin undoing his pants. You watch hungrily as he exposes his clean white briefs, and the stiff cock sheathed inside them. He puts the slacks away, and comes back over to the bed. He makes sure you're paying attention, before slipping his underwear down his legs. His dick slaps against his stomach, the head red and swollen with need. You want to take him in your mouth, or to ride him, it doesn't really matter. You just want him inside you again, to make your fantasies a completed reality.

"Can I suck your cock, sir?" You ask cautiously, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"No, thank you. I've never liked that very much. But I think you want something else a bit more, don't you?" He questions you again, taking hold of his length and stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes, sir. I want you to fuck me." You say boldly, biting your lip.

"I ought to shock you again for that filthy mouth of yours." He threatens, but he's not really all that serious about it.

"Do you not like the things I say, sir?" You ask with a bratty pout, toying with him a little bit.

"I-I do. Much as I shouldn't, I really do." His tone falters, which clues you in to how much he immensely enjoys you saying dirty things.

"Do you want to fuck me, sir?" You continue with your own inquiries, hoping to drive him to slam his cock into you, or even shock you again for acting out of line. You're enjoying this far more than you'd truly expected, and it appears he is as well.

"Yes." He almost whispers.

"Do you want to make me scream your name?" You press on, testing the limits.

"Yes." Martin continues to rub himself as you speak. Slow and languid, not nearly enough to make him lose control. Just revving himself up for when he's deep inside you.

"How do you want me?" You ask again.

"What do you mean?" He replies, confused as to what you're referring to.

"Laying down? Hands and knees? On your lap? How do you want me?" You repeat yourself, your words dripping with lust.

"Oh, I see." Martin blushes slightly at his misunderstanding. He thinks it over a moment, before answering. "This way is fine...for now." He says, climbing onto the bed to join you now. He spreads your legs apart with his hands, tenting your knees and placing himself between them. He gives you another kiss, warming you up before the main event. His hands grab at your tits, massaging them roughly.

"Mmm." You moan against his mouth, wishing you could bury your hands in his hair and tug on it. His lips move lower down to your neck, and he brings a hand to rub against your clit for a moment. "Oh..." You whimper quietly.

"Are you ready?" He asks in your ear, ceasing his touch on your bundle of nerves. He takes hold of his cock, running his tip along your silk.

"Yes, sir. So ready...you have no idea." You reply, waiting for him to penetrate you. Without another word, he puts his head above yours to watch you as his dick slips inside you. "Oh, fuck." You exhale while he fills you up. He's the perfect size, reaching every inch of your soaked pussy flawlessly. "You're so big, sir." You compliment him once he bottoms out.

"Thank you. You're very...warm." He says, somewhat awkwardly. You're guessing that's his best attempt at talking dirty.

"Do I feel nice and tight inside? Am I wet enough for you?" You try to help him out, saying all the vulgar things on his behalf.

"Yes. You're perfect, Y/N." Martin rasps, slowly pulling out before slipping back in. He lets out a low groan at the slickness of your insides. He continues to thrust in and out at a very slow pace, similar to how his fingers were working inside you earlier. But you want more, you want him to rail you like he does in your dreams. You know he has it in him, but you're unsure how to say it without him shocking you again.

"Can you go faster, sir?" You ask politely.

"Not yet, Y/N. Patience." He says in warning, still moving so very slow. You swear he's just trying to make you squirm. You can't help your neediness, so you grind your hips to meet his thrusts. He pulls his cock out of you as a result, and takes hold of the remote to give you another shock.

"Shit!" You shout at the painful current going through your body once more. Your muscles seize up, and Martin just watches the helpless look on your face. He lets it go a little longer this time, making you afraid that you might pass out. But just before you're about to possibly lose consciousness, he turns it off.

"It appears you have a problem with listening." Martin growls, which only turns you on more.

"I'm sorry, sir. I only want you so bad, you feel so good inside me." You explain, the pitchy whine in your voice making his cock twitch. How can he resist you when you sound like that?

"You promise to be good for me? To listen to what I say?" He questions, his expression stone still despite his ever-growing hunger for you.

"Yes, sir. Please...I need you." You beg tearfully.

"Very well." He responds, before slamming his cock inside you.

"Fuck!" You squeal. He proceeds to hammer himself into you now, gripping your thighs with frustrated strength.

"Is this what you want, Y/N?" He asks while panting as he fucks you good and hard.

"Yes, sir. This is exactly what I want. You feel so good." You continue to moan with every thrust, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close. He allows you to do this, using you as leverage to keep pounding your pussy like his life depends on it.

"Should I go harder? Faster? Tell me what you want, Y/N." Martin offers, spellbound by your helpless noises.

"Fuck me harder, sir. I know you can...you're so strong...I can take it." You plead to him, bringing your bound hands down to rest around his neck. You have to hold him, to feel him in any way you possibly can.

"I'm sure you can. You're such a good girl for me." He chuckles, snapping his hips to drive into you with more force.

"Shit, I'm getting close again, sir..." You warn him, though you're not sure how well you can hold it this time. He's hitting your sweet spot with every motion of in and out, and you're sure he isn't far behind.

"You know the rules, Y/N." He burns, picking up the remote again. You watch him with frightened eyes, though your lips curl into a mischievous smile.

"Do it." You blurt the words out.

"What?" He asks, dumbfounded that you're actually asking him to shock you.

"Shock me. It feels really good, sir." You reply seductively.

"If that's what you really want..." He trails off, still thrusting roughly into you as he presses the button. It appears the collar works like a taser, sending an intense shock to you, without affecting him at all. You moan at the sensation, savoring the pain and pleasure mixing together inside your clenching belly. Your walls spasm around his dick, making him groan. That's another reason why you asked him to do it, you knew he'd like it, too. He lets the current go on for longer again, watching your face twist in ecstasy. "You really are something special, Y/N." He says, in awe of you. He flicks the switch to turn it off, and your body relaxes underneath his.

"I try my best." You quip, breathing far more heavily than you were before.

"Here, let's try hands and knees for the end, hm?" Martin suggests, quickly pulling out and rolling you onto your stomach. He pants erratically behind you, waiting for you to get on your knees.

"Mmm, yes, please." You hum, kneeling before him while arching your back. You lean on your elbows, your hands resting just below your head.

Martin takes a moment to look at you in this position, noting your readiness to take him once more. He can deduce that this is your favorite position, and as a man of science, he can understand the anatomical reason as to why. He takes hold of his cock, running his leaking tip along your folds to tease you again. He grunts at his sensitivity, needing to hold back himself so he can fully please you. He'd hate to leave a woman unsatisfied. "Ready?" He asks, barely pressing the head of his dick against your entrance.

"Yes, sir. Please, fuck me." You plead, fighting the reflex to back yourself into him.

"Well, I am partial to begging." He says with a light laugh, before shoving his length into you.

"Fuck, yes." You moan as he hits even better angles inside you from behind.

"More?" He asks, needing you to tell him exactly what you want. He loves how verbal you are, how unafraid you are of sounding so pathetic.

"Yes, sir. Fuck me hard and fast...I wanna cum on your huge cock." You're whimpering and teary-eyed again, but you can't possibly be bothered to care.

"Sure thing." He answers simply, grabbing either side of your waist. He pulls out, making your skin slap together loudly as he thrusts back in with force. You cry out, gripping what you can of the covers below you. It's hard to manage with your hands stuck together, but you try your damndest. Martin grunts very loudly as he continues to fuck you at the pace you asked for. You're almost there again, and he can feel it. He's right behind you, his stomach preparing to tense as his balls tighten.

"Can I cum, sir?" You ask through a moan. You can feel your arousal lubing him up with each stroke, some of it rolling down your inner thigh in warm drips.

"Not yet. Soon." He mumbles, driving himself as deep into you as humanly possible. Your insides are so snug around him now, threatening to strangle him altogether. He's looking forward to feeling you let go around him.

"Please, sir...please, please...please..." You repeat the words incoherently, they're the only things you can think to say. You're an absolute mess, holding your orgasm in so hard that it almost hurts. Your brain has turned to mush, and you know you can't keep it in forever.

"You've been a very good girl tonight, Y/N. Let it all go for me." He growls, sensing his own end taking him over.

"P-push the bu..." You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"What?" Martin asks, trying to figure out what you're saying.

"The button. Push...the...button." You force the words out, every syllable of which threatening to open the floodgates. But you want to feel that delicious shock as you cum, you just know it'll all be worth it.

"Of course, Y/N." He says breathlessly. He does as you ask, forcing his own climax back for the sake of you violently losing control around him. He presses the button, and you finally feel it wash over you.

"Martin!" You choke out his name as your body seizes up one last time. Your pussy clenches around his dick, yanking a loud groan from his throat.

"God—" He thrusts into you uncontrollably, his cum coating your insides messily. If you could flex your vocal chords right now, you'd scream at how good his sloppy bucking feels. You continue to tremble and convulse, releasing a small mess of juices from your pussy. The warm liquid soaks his cock, making him groan again. "Y/N, I—" He gasps, unable to believe how otherworldly you feel inside. He keeps thrusting through the pleasure, forcing your cum to mix and spill out onto your thighs and the bed.

You're on cloud nine in this moment, savoring every second of electric current pulsing through you, and every needy stroke Martin continues to make inside you. He finally turns off the collar, powering it off entirely. You slump against the bed, taking him with you as he still won't stop fucking your pussy. "Martin..." You moan, trying to warn him that he's gonna make you cum again if he doesn't let up.

"You feel so good, Y/N. I've never felt anyone like you..." He praises.

"G-gonna cum again..." You make a second attempt, but he doesn't seem to hear you. You've broken him, in a way, making him the desperate one now. You let him keep going, regardless of the fact that you're getting a little sore. His thrusts feel so good, and he seems to want to experience you clamping down on him one last time.

"One more, just one more...can you do that for me, Y/N?" He asks with desperation in his voice. His breath lands hotly on the back of your neck, his body sliding around on top of yours as you're both covered in sweat.

"Y-yes...I'll be so good for you, Martin. Make me cum." Your words are all the motivation he needs. He picks up his pace again, pounding you into the bed as he tries to give you another orgasm. You cry out over and over, waiting to feel ecstasy rush through you for the third time.

"That's it...just like that, Y/N. Good girl." He pants, feeling your walls fluttering again.

"Oh, shit...I'm gonna cum, sir. Can I cum, please?" You whimper.

"Y-Yes, you can..." He stutters, and you sense your high taking over once the words pass his lips.

"FUCK!" You scream, thighs quaking as you're rocked to the core again.

"Mmm, ah—" His breath catches in his throat as you soak his cock again, even more than last time. You spill down your thighs and his, every spasm pushing more fluid out of you. You almost start sobbing as your final high subsides, and he stills himself within you. He carefully pulls out, gazing at the sticky mess left between your legs. You lie still, trying to catch your breath. As you do so, Martin gets off the bed and unlocks the collar. He takes it away, putting it and the remote back in its case. He also unties your hands, checking for any bruises left on your wrists. Finding none, he retrieves a damp towel from the bathroom to clean you up with. "How are you feeling?" He asks as he wipes away the mess from your sore flesh.

"I'm great, Martin. That was so fucking good." You say softly, feeling completely exhausted now. Once he's done cleaning you up, he helps you sit up and redress, sans your panties. "Thank you." You say, standing to meet him once you're fully clothed.

"For what?" He asks curiously.

"For giving me what I've been dreaming about for weeks." You reply cheekily, giving him a short kiss. You suppose it's time for you to leave now, to go back home to your parents.

"You dreamt about me?" He questions, as if it's impossible for you to have done such a thing.

"Mmhmm, every night since the first day you came into the store. Shit, I've had to change my panties in the middle of the night so many times because of you." You giggle, playfully poking his chest.

"Right." He gives you a soft smile, unsure how to respond to that. "Well, I can have my driver drop you at home, if you like. Or the store, if your car is still there." He offers.

"The store is fine. Thanks." You reply, and he goes to a phone on the dresser, presumably to speak to the driver. He retrieves a robe to put on to escort you to the door after the brief call, tying a firm knot around his waist. 

"Come along, then." He gestures at the bedroom door, and you open it and head for the stairs. You go all the way down and to the front door, stopping for a moment. "What is it? Did you forget something?"

"No." You shake your head, lifting up your bag to show that you've got everything. "I just...if you ever wanted to do this again, I wouldn't say no." You end with a shrug, unsure he'll even consider it.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." He answers, smiling a bit bigger for your benefit. Unfortunately, for your own safety, he can't do this again. If only you knew the kinds of things he's gotten himself caught up in these last few years, the awful things he's done in the name of 'science'. He can't put a sweet young thing like you at risk, no matter how amazing the sex is. But for now, he can let you think there's a chance, he can't bear to break your heart. You'll just need some time to forget about him, to move on to someone your own age. That's all. At least, he hopes so. He'd hate to have you come back here looking for him, when this isn't even his real home at all. It's all staged, sitting empty and waiting for him, or anyone else working in the lab, who needs a cover to blend in. It's a shame you fell for it so willingly, though he supposes that's kind of the point.

"Cool. Well, hopefully I'll see you in the shop again. Or around town." You say, going to him for one last kiss goodbye.

"Of course. I'll be around." But no, he really won't. He'll have to avoid your store like the plague now. What a shame, you've got such a wonderful selection of Chopin. He puts a hand on the small of your back, giving you the final kiss you're waiting for. He kisses you hard, wanting to sweep you off your feet one last time. You hum against him, wishing you didn't have to let go. But he makes the decision for you, and the regretful look on his face tells you he won't be coming to you again.

You're not stupid, you know this was probably a one-time thing anyway. It hurts to know he's lying to your face, but you're sure he has a good reason. You figured his vague answer of 'government' as his job meant something top secret, maybe even dangerous. You get it, truly, you do. And he doesn't need to know that you see right through him. Let him have his illusion, it'll only hurt more to shatter it.

"Bye, Martin." You give him a small wave, and go outside to the car that's waiting for you. It's a dead silent ride back to the record store, with the driver glancing back at you suspiciously a couple of times. He drops you off outside Waxed Out, and you walk down the street to the lot where you've parked your car. You get inside, turn the key, and drive home while replaying the exquisite moments you and Martin shared together. It'll be a while before you get over that man, and you don't mind that one bit. He was something special tonight, and you're sure he feels the same about you. At least he has your panties to remember you by.

August 10th, 1983

Dear diary,

I was right. Martin hasn't returned to the store, and I don't think he's ever going to. I get it, his work is probably too much to balance with hooking up with me and taking care of his kid, if he even has one. I still dream about him every so often, and we do all the things we did that night over and over again. I still wake up with soaked panties every time, but all it does is remind me that I'm never going to see him in that way again. I hardly see him around town, either. And the few times I have, he ignores me when I wave at him. It's like I don't exist, or at least, he turns away before I can see him look sad. I'd like to think that's what he's doing, anyway. I know, I know, this was only sex. Wild, crazy, kinky-as-fuck sex. But still, that's all it was. And that's all it needs to be.

As they say, onwards and upwards. Speaking of that, I've finally got my own place! No roommates or anything! It's totally cheap and doesn't look like a complete dump. And it's all mine. No more nosey parents, not after I move in there in a couple days. I've got my shit all packed up and ready to go. My freedom can't come soon enough, diary. Until then, I'm gonna get high and masturbate while thinking about Martin again. What can I say? That dick was something else...

[worido]

Decided i wanted to Talk about some of the Games that released in 2023 i played.

Gonna mainly focus on some smaller games i really enjoyed or found interesting in some way.

Cassette Beasts

Starting with what might well be one of if not my favourite game of the year, Cassette Beasts.

It's a Creature Collection RPG in which you are stranded on a mysterious island called New Wirral and adventure across the island both to better understand the nature of the island itself and to potentially find a way off the island. In doing so you meet several companions, one of which will be accompanying you at any point, as well as a community of people consisting of other castaways and their descendents. You also encounter various monster that you can record using cassette tapes to then transform into to fight back. As you journey with your companions you also unlock the option to Fuse with them during battle giving you access to thousands of monster fusions to use in battles.

The whole game honestly feels well thought out and just feels satisfying to play and clearly designed by people who play and understand Creature Collection/Monster Taming RPGs. A simple example of this in my eyes is the simple fact that you cannot accidentally knock out the monster you are trying to record, this games equivalent of capturing.

Something the Devs, among other things, talk about in this Steam blogpost about design and expectations for those curious.

Have i mentioned yet that the soundtrack is amazing and dynamically adds vocals during fights under certain conditions ?

The composer Joel Baylis uploaded a few tracks on YouTube if people are curious.

I could probably keep writing about Cassette Beasts and might need to do a seperate post in the future but for now, if you can only check out one game from this list, go check out Cassette Beasts, it's great.

Chants of Sennaar

For something more Relaxed, theres the Puzzle game Chants of Sennaar. In it you are dropped at the bottom of a tower inhabited by multiple groups of people without any direction and the slight catch that you don't speak any of their languages. As you make your way up this Tower of Babel alike you therefore have to figure out the language of the people you meet and use it to solve puzzles and sometimes translate between groups. It's a relatively short game, it personally took me about 7 hours, but a very interesting experience nonetheless.

Shadows of Doubt

Shadows of Doubt mixes the world of Noir Detectives, a Cyberpunk setting and randomly generated cities. You set out to solve cases of murder, stolen items, infidelity or plain simple Information gathering. In doing so you often sneak around and break laws as the enforcers are everything but cooperative. All this with the eventual goal to earn enough social credit for your Detective to retire.

Despite the randomly generated nature of it the game is surprisingly good at generating coherent cases with enough leads to provide you something to work with or even sometimes giving you red herrings to trip over as the citizens lives are constantly being simulated around you. With that said the game is still in early access and random generation does have it weirdness sometimes, still it's a fun time and if you can tolerate and find the fun in abit of jank every now and then, worth a look.

Laika: Aged trough Blood

Gonna preface that this one comes with a Content Warning for it's Story for violence, blood, drugs, and strong language (Taken from it's Steam Page)

Getting to the actual game thought the Devs describe it as a Motorvania, a 2D Metroidvania on a motorbike which hits the nail on the head pretty well. Set in a Post-apocalyptic World oppressed by a fascist bird empire. You play as Laika, a coyote mother who bears a curse passed on trough her family that prevents her from dying. At the start of the game her tribe chooses to actively bring the Fight against the birds after one of their children is murdered and crucified with their own guts by the Birds.

The game then takes Laika trough the World on her quest to put a end to the oppression trough the Birds, making use of her curse which prevents her from dying.

On a gameplay level it has you biking trough the world shooting bird soldiers along the way, often treating encounters as something that feels closer to a puzzle in which you have to navigate the fire from the soldiers while returning fire and trying not to crash, since in this game any hit means death.

Similarly enemies also typically die within a shot or two and the game doesn't tend to feel too punishing as respawn points are pretty frequent.

It all comes together in a world that has a Somber Beauty to it. It's all in all a pretty fun and somewhat emotional experience, although with the caveat that the game is hard and does require a certain resistance to frustration. That said, as you do make your way trough a big group of enemies dodging bullets and using the sides of your bike as cover, the game does feel rewarding to play.

Gonna stop this Post here, although i may make more of them in the future as i found i kinda enjoyed collecting my thoughts like this and there's plenty of more Games i played i can talk about.

That said, if anyone has any games of their own they found interesting or think deserve some extra eyes, pleas do tell I'm always looking for interesting games to play

[rainbowmess823]

So I've been reading a lot of Robin Dies fics bcos I need a way to breakdown properly and I need an output to cry. It got me thinking, what if. Hear me out. What if Robin dies in the last battle? Idk how, prolly shielded Nancy and Steve from smth this girl is seriously protective of her friends and I can't be told otherwise. IMAGINE THIS! Bit longer than I anticipated.

----

It's been a week since their victory against Vecna. A week. A victory? Would a victory hurt this much? They won but did they really? Max slipped into a coma, Eddie sacrificed himself buying them more time, and Robin shielded them so that they could win. They won but they lost so much.

Lucas and Erica watched three return from the Upside Down, five went in but only three came back. Three walked into the hospital room where Max slept. Three pairs of eyes unable to look at them and tell them what they lost. One lost a mentor, a brother he didn't get to have long enough. One lost a soulmate who did what she always did, put herself in danger to keep them safe. One lost a "what could've been", a bird that gave her so much light.

When the California gang reunited with them, it was in the hospital room. The quiet felt suffocating and they couldn't understand why until Lucas had quietly explained what they had lost. The loss of a party member, and a dungeon master. They had their zoomer but she was asleep for who knows how long.

It wasn't long after that Dustin had brought the entire Party to the woods. Leading the way, telling them it was a place Wayne mentioned that Eddie, Robin, and Chrissy had built as children. Dustin told them what Wayne had revealed to him. A trio of musketeers with clovers tattooed on them, a trio who hadn't let society tear them apart. They stopped below a tree house, a tree house Wayne had said was filled with laughter and memories. Slowly climbing up into the tree house, a beautiful sight welcomed them. Band posters plastered all over the wall, mixtapes overflowing a box in the corner next to a beaten radio, a soft rug place just by a window, two comfy looking beanbags, and photos littered everywhere. They saw fragments of the musketeers. A dusty acoustic guitar leaning on a beanbag, a pair of pom-poms on the other, and VHS tapes stacked on the rug. Photos of the musketeers in their youth, Buck's first Halloween, Dracula's mini concert, Bone being absolutely metal (metal isn't an adjective, Dracula!!).

Relics of a friendship they will never be able to witness. Steve cries when he sees the rainbow colored flag pinned on the wall. He stares at it, muttering apologies. Erica and Lucas are quiet as they take in the space, learning small things about their dear friend. Nancy gently scoops up the VHS tapes and tearfully smiles at the titles. Dustin lets out a whimper when he scans the cassette tapes, all mixtapes with labels describing the contents. He zeroes in on the mixtape labelled "Soul Project" and carefully inserts it into the nearby radio. Everyone freezes as they listen to the first song, Bohemian Rhapsody. The song they remember Eddie singing to Robin to get her away from Vecna's trance. The song they will always associate with the two dorks who sacrificed themselves for the rest of the party. But what came next brought them all to tears. They hear a different opening to The Carpenter's Top of the World, it was an acoustic guitar and only an acoustic guitar which was then followed by two voices. Chrissy and Robin. Their voices singing happily to the song with Eddie joining the chorus. The recording catching the tail end of a conversation.

---

"Just admit you like the songs, Dracula."

"Not until you agree to add some metal! C'mon back me up, Bones."

"Don't put me in the middle of this."

"HA! She's on my side, on the side of good music."

"Metallica is good music!"

"It's you wailing on your electric and screaming into a mic. I hardly call that good music."

"Why are we singing this anyway, Buck?"

"Yeah, why are we?"

"Well...I just thought I'd be a good idea y'know. Music is just a universal language and I thought it'd be kinda like our language to, y'know, let each other know how we felt and stuff."

"Aww you could just say "I LOVE YOU DRACULA" in the cafeteria."

"I take it back, I'm pushing you out the window!"

"BONES SAVE ME FROM THIS MADWOMAN!"

"I'm but an innocent civilian in all this, don't pull me to your side."

---

What follows was laughter before the tape ends. Steve let out a harsh sob at the voice of his soulmate, laughing happy and carefree. Dustin stared at them with tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to form words. Lucas quickly came to his side while Erica tucked herself into Steve's with comfort being the only thing they could offer. Nancy holds back her own sobs as she listens to the bright bird laughing with friends, something she had wished to do with her.

Victory was many things, a celebration, a peace to breath, something many people tell you to reach out and grab it. However, no one ever tells you about what victories can cost.

----

Yeaaaaa...thats it.

[nickgerlich]

Now And Then

Headlines this morning are proclaiming that SAG-AFTRA (the screen actors guild) and Hollywood studios have reached a tentative agreement. That’s good for everyone, including fans, because it means that new content can be created for our viewing pleasure.

One of the major bones of contention in the strike was the possible use of AI not only to write scripts, but also be used to create audio and video in the likeness of stars. It is a very real possibility, and AI capabilities have advanced so much in recent months and years that it could happen, and completely without the permission of anyone being imitated.

But what if a project of this sort were actually initiated—and approved—by artists who tapped into AI capabilities to produce content of someone who is long deceased? That is precisely what Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr—the surviving members of the Beatles—did. Last week what is quite likely the last song ever by the Beatles to be released was unleashed to the world.

The song, Now And Then, was written by John Lennon, and had only been recorded as a crude demo on a cassette player in 1977. He had written it while living at the Dakota Hotel in NYC, and simply recorded it while at the piano. John’s wife, Yoko Ono, gave the cassette tape to Paul in 1994, but it could not be used in a subsequent effort at the time to produce a post-mortem anthology. The piano and vocal tracks could not be isolated.

Lennon was shot and killed in New York City on the evening of 8th December 1980. When that 90s project was underway, George Harrison was still alive. Alas, he died on 29th November 2001 of cancer. That left Paul and Ringo to do this project in the modern era.

And were it not for AI, this never would have happened. It should be noted that the new song is John’s real voice, not “AI John.” Artificial Intelligence was used to separate the original vocal from the piano, and then enhance Lennon’s vocals.

So while critics of AI need to mull that over and accept this was really a high-tech editing project, there remains the possibility that far more could be done. For example, I have extensive audio of my father telling stories while he was yet alive. Not only could I feed those into AI for enhancement, but I could tell the AI machine to create new audio content in the voice and style of my late father, using a script that I would feed it.

Now imagine a professor—someone, maybe me, maybe someone else—doing the same thing. It takes a long time to create long-form lecture audio files. Not just for the speaking part, but also for the multiple takes required when the prof stumbles or coughs. It’s one thing for this prof to do the audio recording of blogs like this every morning, because they are only five to seven minutes long. It is quite another when you’ve got thousands of words to speak.

For that matter, Voice Actors could be put out of business if we’re not careful. All those audio books on Audible could be created with the click of a few buttons, having uploaded a voice sample. And while we’re at it, why not audio text books? Sheesh. That’s an idea that should have been done years ago.

Meanwhile, I am loving the Beatles’ new song. I know. I am old like that. But in my defense, my two 20-something daughters love the Beatles, too. I credit that to good upbringing, and them growing up surrounded by 60s- and 70s-era music. You might call that punishment, but they rather like it.

Turn it up and enjoy the song, because it’s the last time you’ll ever hear them together. Even if they aren’t. Dr “AI To The Rescue” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[fm-r-iznow]

DAYS GONE 2

WHERE IS IT SONY?

Okay so I have been Holding off on buying a PS5, due the price and my lack of funding I was the same about ps4 but after a sudden windfall i bought it and i went crazy. I actually felt like I was people. Now I could bore you with a list of games. But the game i really enjoyed the most was DAYS GONE

I think i got half way through until I stopped. Due to personal issues and crysis but the main issue is the delay of DG2. I even stopped playing all together my life had turned upside-down. Well but now im picking up the pieces and I'm playing switch and im enjoying these horror games as well as open world games. Now at this time I could get 10 PS5's if I wanted. But if I'm going spend 500 bucks on a game system. Then I'm going to buy synth plugins for my laptop because im making music again after a year of nothing thanks to a crappy daw update on FL STUDIO which did nothing to help so now I have a new daw.

But back to my point unless Playstation changes their tune i will not buy anymore of their products. over the years i baught cassette tapes vhs cdrs and a camcorder which for the $$$ it's pretty good. So unless SONY changes its tune i won't be buying anymore of their products if i want to play Katamari its on Switch. And if I want to play tenchu that came out on Xbox. Then I'll get an Xbox my final point is this. Jeff Ross should think of putting the game out on Xbox Switch or pc. I mean Sony is playing unfair expecting exclusive content and then be inconsistent on this game and why????

I remember countless games that were crap and they nade a series of crap churned out like digital dingle berry dyarrrheia. SONY is not a nurturing corporation.

their creators and customers alike are suffering. If i buy a console, their are quite a few i can get

now I can buy that Moog I've been pining over for years. Long before Ps5. I thought who needs that? PS4 is satisfactory. I don't need bells and whistles or better frame rate. I don't care about that

im still a casual gamer i have things I do that give more satisfaction spiritually. Gaming is only an escape and decompress

to me long before i even picked up a joy stick i drew and imitated my comic book heros. Now if I want a camera I'll buy a fuji or a Canon. Now I know 1 guy can't hurt a major corporation buy doing a personal boycott. But at least i have other options that i can invest my money into. So Jeff Ross i can only hope he knows has the same options. Which he may not contractionally. And I hope thats not the case. I ALSO dont appreciate click bate youtube videos eluding the game is coming out with DAYS GONE II coming and a month later nothing zero!! Well I think I said everything I'm spent. I should be sleeping. its it 4.30 AM in the morning so good night sweet dreams....

[linuxgamenews]

Cassette Beasts releases with success on Steam

Cassette Beasts monster collecting open-world RPG game launches on Linux, Steam Deck, and Windows PC. This is a fantastic release from the talented and innovative developer Bytten Studio. Available now on Steam with 98% Very Positive reviews. Cassette Beasts is a new game where you collect and battle with monsters. Then you combine them together, and explore a big world. Which also takes place on a remote island called New Wirral. On this island, people use cassette tapes to turn into strange creatures and fight against other monsters. So Linux players will need to explore the island and find different monsters to record on your cassette tapes. You can also combine two creatures together to make new and more powerful forms. There are over 100 different monsters to collect in Cassette Beasts. Then you can transform into any of them by playing back the cassette tape. When you fuse two monsters together to create a more powerful beast with the best features of both creatures. While you work to find a way home.

Cassette Beasts | PC release Trailer

On top of collecting and battling with monsters, Linux players can also explore a vibrant and vivid world. Some monsters can be used in human form, due to help you solve puzzles and can get around the island. You can even travel in the monster collecting open-world RPG by flying, swimming, or climbing. Cassette Beasts also has a great story. You'll discover spooky twists and turns of the game. Since it up to you to try and figure out how you ended up on New Wirral and who the Archangels are. As a player you will meet lots of interesting characters along the way. You can even team up with friends on Linux or Steam Deck to explore the island in co-op. Finally, you can also customize your gameplay on Linux with mods. Due to create your own content for the game and share it with others. Also be sure to try out the Linux Demo on Steam. Cassette Beasts monster collecting open-world RPG launch on Steam with a roar. Priced at $17.99 USD / £15.07 / 17,99€ including the 10% launch discount. Available on Linux, Steam Deck (Verified), and Windows PC.

[kimboatfloats]

Today’s weeded book was a doozy. The title — intriguing. Very gothic romance and the art style screams Italy countryside. Maybe France.

It was first published in 1978 with this one a reprint in 1992. Could be interesting, right?

Back cover:

‘Where do you live?’ asked Paul.

‘In the big White House on the hill,’ said Maria. ‘Where do you live?’

‘In the little brown house near the market,’ said Paul.

They laughed. But Paul was sad. The house in the hill was big and important.

Maria was rich and he was poor. And Paul was in love.

Riveting. Also fun facts, there’s an audio cassette available for this book.

Please note, I am not making fun of this book for being a beginning level reader. I think these readers are important because they offer content to adults learning to read or learning a different language that is something other than children’s books

I am, however, totally making fun of the content.

This book was absolute trash. Unbelievable trash. With a cool ass name like that I hoped it’d be some kind of gothic, intense storyline.

Instead there’s this dude named Paul.

Paul is a writing apparently. He needs his coffee cup to say “Coffee” on it. He writes by hand. It’s the late 70s after all. Paul loves Maria. Maria looks different in every picture of her.

Maria the changeling is a rich girl that Paul love. No. If she was a changeling, she would be way cooler. Her main trait is that she's rich. That half-chopped woman in the second last image is her rich mother. Her mother's main trait is that she's snobby.

Paul recites poetry to Maria. This is a Paul poem:

I met her in the evening By the riverside Her dress was creamy white And her hair with ribbon tied. She turned and smiled at me, And I asked her for her name. Though I am young and poor, My love will stay the same.

So Paul's main trait is he's poor. He's added one more trait to Maria. She wears ribbons. These two have a riveting romance. Paul likes that Maria wears beautiful clothes. She's lovely. That's about it. They hang out at the river's edge. Maria tells Paul she loves him.

This is enough for Paul to propose to her. But alas! Maria can't marry Paul and she flees.

Paul's mother, who looks like an Edwardian cook in like Downton Abbey or something is all, "Oh shit Paul. She doesn't love you."

Cue angry rich woman that's Maria's mama. She sends her driver in a Rolls Royce down to Paul's place, picks him up, and brings him to the House on the Hill, pretty much just to shit on him. She's all, "You're so poor you stupid stupid boy. My daughter is rich. I've married her off to a rich. Go away poor." She leaves the room and sucks out all the rich with her with ... Except Maria's all, "Well Paul. Mama's right. You're poor. I might love you, but you can't buy me fancy things in the late 70s like a disco ball or a rattan settee." Paul flails down the hill, tears in his eyes, and he's crying, "Maaaaarrrriiiiaaaaa! Why don't you love me? Oh because I'm POOR!"

Paul's mom is all, "Paul. Those people are dicks."

Paul ignores her.

Now this is the section that's like Twilight Part Deux where Paul sits in a room alone, not eating, not sleeping, and then he goes to the river but he doesn't recite poetry because he's not going to cause that cruelty to the world again.

Inexplicably, the local newspaper "THE CLARION" has RICH MAN'S BEAUTIFUL BRIDE as the byline of the main page of the paper. It's a shit byline. Of course that's Maria and her new rich husband. The husband has the traits of rich, old, and fat (of course in this book that seems to be a focus that makes him a monster).

Luckily Paul sees an ad for a Story Competition. Here is the ad:

Somehow Paul thinks, "Yeah if I win this by writing a self-insert fan fic about Maria and me getting together she'll be all over me and super pissed she married the old guy."

There's no preamble. He wins the stupid competition.

Somehow that leads to him being a reporter. I love how he didn't have to go to University or anything for that. Because the newspaper manager (with the story competition?) is all, "Wow you're such a good writer I want to hire you as a reporter!" I guess since they have a shitty byline writer they need someone?

This is Paul, our new reporter. This is Paul's reporting style:

Paul to Celebrity at some big event: "Any more news sir?"

SUCH REPORTING

This is the best multipanel comic ever. I LIKE YOUR NEW STORY PAUL.

WE ARE VERY PLEASED WITH YOUR WORK PAUL.

OFFICE THINGS. CHARTS! RED PHONE!

Paul's still obsessing over Maria. He's working hard asking all the hard questions. He's also an extra in an 80s office setting movie. Look at this image. So much plastic Ken doll hair.

This is the big news room story meeting. I guess. A reporter comes into the office and is all

[forgottenporkbun]

So I have an old Generation Loss theory I made after the Founders cut came out. It's a little incoherent due to me scribbling it down before I forgot but I'm gonna put it here and try to make it a clearer. Like I said before- this is just a silly theory I made and is probably very incorrect so bear with me. (I do go into something that Matpat talked about in his theory videos on GL just to warn you lol).

In the short videos we got before the social experiments we see red text and Matpat talks about how the red represents a certain group of people that I believe Ranboo is a part of (a lot of people speculated that Ranboo is the founder but I don't think that's correct and I'll talk about that again soon). These people want to kill the founder- teach people the "right" thing to do- which is to kill people when needed and possibly not just the founder (I need to rewatch those shorts-). (also I will be referring to the group the red text belongs to the Genloss group bc im not very creative)

Hetch talks about the founder gave him a place and runs the whole Showfall media company (the founder- not hetch if that was unclear). Why would Hetch/Showfall media want to kill Ranboo if he was the founder?

We now know Hetch as the script writer- that is the role the founder gave to him. He mentions stuff like how "characters" are only useful for as long as they are able to fulfill their roles (idk why I put that in there but I do think it's an interesting line). People go through these experiments to become cast members. Ranboo completed his experiment to become a cast member and did what they had to do to get to the end- even if it meant killing. Now the thing that I find quite ironic is the fact that Hetch labelled Ranboo as the hero [Who is he saving?]

In the end before they are killed, Ranboo has flashbacks- I mean- not quite flashbacks, but images of his younger self (could be his life flashing before his eyes). Right before the box closes we hear him mutter something that sounds like "I don't care". They don't care that they're about to die- which there could be multiple reasons why. One is that after the horrible things he did he thinks he deserves to die. Two, he knows that he has "followers" in this genloss group- now you're probably saying "Kai- wtf do you mean by followers?" Well, i think that Ranboo is a very important person in this group. I don't think Showfall media would have taken them if they didn't have a bigger part to play in that group.

Also, an odd thing is that in the Founders cut trailer there's this bit of red text that says "who are you?" that is probably important.

Another thing i found interesting in that trailer "One year ago a show was broadcasted to your world. Using the likenesses of popular figures." Did Showfall kidnap them? What's this other world that Showfall media exists in like?

At the very end we get to see a cassette tape being played- probably one of the tapes that that one character found (the one from that clip of Ranboo talking about how they found some old tapes and just needed to figure out how to work the tape player). This character has finally figured it out and this is the first tape we get to see the contents of (still really curious to know more about this Zero character)

Sorry this is really long- it's old but i wanted to know peoples thoughts on it. I realised a lot of things- like how the red text might not be from this genloss group (but the who are you message makes me have a whole other theory that im not about to go into). And since we have the new "from the desk of the founder" video we have a lot more info on the founder. Anyways, hope you had fun reading through my bullshit. Regards, -Kai

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 6 - Anxiety Rush

Kisara wasn't able to sleep properly that night; However, every time she'd  wake up, agitated, breaking in a cold sweat, she'd see that she wasn't alone anymore, and there was no threat incoming; She'd see Seiji's peaceful, sleeping face, and she'd relax in an instant. That, along with the open lights throughout the house, made it easy to fall back asleep pretty fast, without too much overthinking.

No matter how much she wanted to sleep in and recover the lack of rest, she couldn't. Careful not to wake him up, Kisara went to the kitchen and made herself some caramel mocha, and eating some salty sticks, she let the silence sink in, as the coffee cup warmed her hands soothingly. She might be sleep deprived, but at least she is content.

Feeling that something was missing, the girl put on a classical music cassette in the radio on low volume, so she wouldn't disturb Seiji's sleep, and started humming along the sound of Debussy's Clair de Lune, since it was always able to calm her down. Not too loud, nor energetic for the current mood.

It wasn't long before Seiji woke up and joined her at the table, sitting across from her, with that cute, just woken up face, his eyelids still droopy and hair a bit messy.

"Good morning, Seiji." she spoke softly, her relaxed smile not faltering from her face. "It sure is good now." he reciprocated that smile. "I never thought waking up to someone and having and angelic smile as the first thing you see in the morning would be so nice." he confessed so casually, almost as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If you're talking about me waking up at least five times last night, and being able to go back to sleep because you looked so adorable and peaceful... Then yes, I do agree." Kisara shot right back, knowing he wasn't expecting something like that. "You're good... But, about you waking up... Was it the nightmares? You should have woken me up." he pointed out, a bit more serious. "Yeah, it was the nightmares, but at the same time, most nights when I'm stressed by whatever... Well, sometimes even without stress, I still randomly wake up for no apparent reason. I look at the time, curse my existence for not sleeping at such a forsaken hour, and then go back to sleep." she shrugged nonchalantly, clearly used to such nuisance. "Besides... Why would I wake you up? You were sleeping so peacefully... I couldn't bring myself to. You look beautiful like an angel." she hugged the warm cup with her hands, looking down at the surface of the drink with a soft look in her  eyes. "You're giving me more credit than I deserve, especially when I should be the one saying such words about you." he said that, and yet, despite his composed expression, a faint blush was almost visible on his cheeks. "I think it's the other way around... Not to mention... You are young, and you have the whole world ahead of you. You should be free and do whatever dumb things people your age do, not waste your youth on old people like me." Kisara chuckled faintly, sounding like an old grandma, but the comment didn't sit right with him. "You are not being fair to me, Kisara. Give me some credit. I did tell you I am a man of my words, and I'm not backing up from that statement. I don't know what you've been through, but from the looks of it, it can't be anything light. If you need someone to talk to, I won't judge, nor turn away. I think it's obvious by now, isn't it?" he asked, making her sigh and look down, nodding, though that bittersweet smile was ever present. "Maybe someday. Until then... Let it go. We have a ghost to get... And something tells me Kubitarou's case won't be the end of it. I'm not looking forward to this - And more." she muttered, biting her lip in worry. "You defeated one, you can defeat another, I'm sure of that. I have faith in you and your wit and knowledge in this subject." he put his hands over hers, squeezing it lightly. "Besides - You're not doing this alone." "I just wish I didn't have such a ghost affinity. It's maddening. No matter how strong you are and you get over some stuff... There are plenty of other things that will stay with you forever. And watching isn't the same as living and feeling the very same trauma. Akira has it easy compared to yours truly, and even for him... Though that's a selfish thing to say." she softly ruffled her already mess of a crimson mane. "Because if you think about it, and eliminate the supernatural factor... In the end, it was still humans who damned a person so bad that they held on to this life with such hatred that they became malevolent ghosts." she managed to say, albeit a bit cryptic, while squeezing his hand back.

"You are the strongest woman I've ever met, Kisara. To be able to go through so much and still put on this facade of everything is fine - Few people would be able to do that." he comforted in his usual soothing voice. "If I'm not strong, no one else is going to be for me. Nobody is going to live out my life except for me. No matter how many stupid traumas are thrown in my way, I have to get over them. That's just how life is... And I really hope it won't be the same for you as well." she chuckled dryly. "Then again, you are not a push over like me, so at least I know you're going to be much better in this aspect than I will ever be." Kisara let out an empty exhale, which made him get up, and putting his hands on her face, he lifted it up firmly so she would look at him and listen clearly. "Nobody is strong all the time, and neither should you be. Everyone has their days, and their weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It's all about finding a safe place to let them exist." he smiled dearly. "And I don't mind being that for you, if only you'd let me. Whenever you feel like you're comfortable in my presence and trust me enough to speak to me, I will be waiting. That's a promise." with a reassuring smile and a soft kiss on her forehead - The Lucky Charm - Seiji remarked the sparing glint of emotional tears forming in those beautiful green eyes that he loved so much. "Okay, Seiji...I won't forget that. But if I ever end up talking too much, or draining you emotionally or something, tell me so I can stop, got it? The last thing I want to do is to accidentally damage you and make you hate me." she placed her hands over his, looking away. "Don't worry so much, that will never happen. For your sake, however, I promise I will tell you if anything goes wrong." he gave a side smile. "Well, then... If you don't have anything to do today, we can go somewhere to eat and maybe waste time looking around shops." Kisara suggested with a little smile gracing her beautiful features, thinking of what to do until evening. "Sounds like a fine plan. That should ease your stress with Kubitarou." he agreed as they started getting ready to leave for the day.

This time, Kisara dressed in a more casual outfit, knowing it would be more legwork and running around from a psychopathic phantasm with a cleaver, so she chose a black shirt, rolling up the sleeves for mobility, and a pair of black jeans paired up with comfortable sneakers. Their first stop was the nearest restaurant where they relaxed, enjoyed the atmosphere and ate pretty well, then went around some random music shops, clothes shops and bookstores. By the end of the rather peculiar date, Kisara ended up getting a green see-through scarf since the weather forecast said it may get chillier at night, and she didn't want to get a cold or something. It looked pretty good with her eyes - Or so Seiji said.

After that, Kintoki was their next destination, to see how things were going with the security, but things weren't good at all, as the police force was amped up. Considering the large man with an axe presumption, it was to be expected... But it will sure prove to be such a hindrance to sneak around successfully.

With Seiji by her side to keep her company, the day passed rather quickly, in a most pleasant way - Along with the fact that they were able to sleep in quite a lot, they were well rested by the time the Sun set, thus it was time to head towards the designated meeting place - Black Rabbit.

No matter how many times she says it, she will still be reminded by Saya Kujou's spirit guiding that black rabbit and dying in a suicide attempt to kill that blasted Mary doll.

Those were the days... Scary days...

Poor Yashi-... Masamune.

Shaking her head to stop thinking about those awful ghost adventures, Seiji opens the door, only to see Akira mid-way stripping away his shirt, while Kaoru was dressed as her Idol persona, grinning like crazy.

"Yo, what's up, best friend?" Seiji chimed in, cheerful and all, until he saw the scene in front of him unfolding, making him grimace. "... What are you doing? ... Did I... Interrupt?" he asked as soon as he realised what was going on and assumed the worst. "Should we... Uh... Come back later?" Kisara giggled, joining in the teasing. "Hey, wait! It's not what you think!" Akira blushed, trying to vigorously explain himself.

As if on cue, Kaoru jumped on her favourite red head, her hands gripping her shirt with unimaginable strength for a 16 year old girl, trying to unbutton it... Or rip the buttons apart altogether, which made the young woman yelp in shock and try to push her off before she could do something idiotic. This must be categorized as some kind of assault.

"Kaoru, what the hell, get off! What's with you?!" Kisara whines as she finally managed to push her off before discreetly turning to the side, button up the shirt better and fixing it properly. "Won't you PLEASE let me write the heart sutra all over your body?! It's for good luck and protection!" she grinned, obviously giddy and believing in her little fantasy. "The only protection I need is a few packs of condoms and a restraining order... That should soon turn into two or three by now, I'm still debating." the doctress sighed, shaking her head at the girl's behaviour, though her rather bold statement made Akira blush more and Seiji to chuckle. "But these things work, if they are done properly! I'm sure, I read it all over the occult network forums!" she whined slightly, almost as if someone told her Santa Clause didn't exist. "Buddhism won't save you from ghosts. Shinto won't do that either. Occult stuff like salt, water and prayer even less." Kisara scratched her cheek awkwardly, shuddering slightly at the Jorogumo experience that amplified her arachnophobia. "You either appease the ghost and survive, or... Die trying. I learnt that the hard way when I got possessed." "What?! You got possessed! That means you need extra protection from ghosts! Talismans, holy water, seals, prayers, lots of salt..." she trailed on and on with the usual occult stuff, and the poor lady could only groan and put her hands firmly on her shoulders.

"THE BULLSHIT YOU KEEP SPEWING ALMOST GOT ME KILLED BEFORE!" the red head was easily irritable. "I get it, you love the occult, but what would you know what works and what doesn't? If you knew the price one has to pay when dwelling with the dead, you'd be running away as if leprosy was chasing you."

"So... You tried those things on the internet, and they didn't work...?" Kaoru pulled the puppy dog eyes, which only made the young woman sigh in exasperation. "If it makes you feel better, I have a bag with all those idiocies with me at all times. I keep them more as a memento from an old lady who's very much into the occult like you... But I suppose I can use them, and prove to you that they don't work, so you can stop living in your fantasies that may or may not kill you for being misinformed." she sighed once again, drained of all energy. "Awesome! Looking forward to that!" she grinned so innocently, almost as if she heard nothing the older lady just said and just jumbled everything the way she wanted it to be.

"They say Buddha's patience is endless - The way I see it, yours is even vaster when you're dealing with this stubborn little brat." Seiji brought the beauty into a side embrace, taking her away from the weirdo and allowing her some time to cool down. "So, will anyone explain to us what in the world were you doing?" he chuckled, looking at them with a knowing look.

As Akira explained that basically he wanted to appease Kaoru by writing the heart sutra on his body, the two sweethearts laughed at them for being so silly. After that, they discussed about how the curse activated and they must urgently purify Kubitarou that night, despite all the police running amok, and that the only way to get rid of them would be a disturbance.

As soon as the world 'Disturbance' was brought into the conversation, Seiji's eyes got wide and he grew sly grin, obviously thinking of some illicit dealing; He went outside to call Maruhashi, telling him to gather his motorbike gang to cause a ruckus - As soon as the boy returned inside the bar, he had that unhinged Yakuza look on his face, saying that he ordered his bodyguard to walk the Samoyed, and then invited them to eat at some luxurious sushi place. He knew how much Kisara loved sushi.

Honestly, the only thing the lady in cause could think of was that Samoyed he mentioned and how curious she was if it was real or not. She loved dogs a little too much.

On their way to the station, that was the only thing Kisara and Seiji talked about; Apparently the mysterious puppy was a very cute baby girl called Yuki, since her fur was white as snow and she was born on a snowy day. Kisara simply couldn't wait until she could meet her.

As they arrived at the station, Kaoru remained as a lookout, Akira's curse activated once again, which was an obvious sign that things weren't good, so they hurried up towards the Kintoki tower, thankfully finding another crowbar at the arcade.

When they passed the rail roads, they noticed a teddy bear next to a flower bouquet. Even better, when they got to the street leading to the Tower, they saw the mess Maruhashi and his gang left, and Kisara couldn't help but laugh out loud with tears in her eyes - Graffiti on the gates, tire marks and flipped cop cars... Masterpiece!

"I don't know how he did it, but tell Maruhashi I will pay him for this show." the lady placed her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Haha, they flipped over a cop car. I told him to distract the cops, but I didn't expect this much. I'll definitely tip extra as thanks for showing us something fun and making Kisara laugh." he grinned in satisfaction watching the forsaken street. "Somehow I knew you were behind this." Akira sighed, shaking his head.

Just then, Maruhashi called Akira, for whatever reason, and reported to him that he already broke up the gathering requested and he's close to the Kintoki tower, waiting for them and eating manjus. This worried them, so they hurried to said tower... But they didn't find him anywhere near, so they started looking around for him.

They were able to find his bag of manjus behind the shrine, which led them to believe that he may have opened the well, as he seemed rather curious by it, seemingly since childhood. Of course, the first thing they thought of was to look in the well, for precaution. Thankfully, it was the same as the previous night. Akira then opened the rabbit bag and found the body of a worn out teddy bear plushie, which made Kisara gasp in realisation. "Akira, hold on to this, we might need it for the purification. Remember, the story said the little brother was a teddy bear, and since it doesn't have a head... If we find a head for it, we may be able to do it! We can use the head of the teddy bear back at the rail road!" she clapped her hands together, feeling as if a bright lightbulb was turned on above her head. "Great, at least we know what to do in that aspect." Akira nodded, putting the plushie in his bag. "I'm sure as hell glad you're on our side. That aside, where the hell is Maruhashi?" Seiji frowned, getting restless. "Oh, yeah, Akira, can your phone call back a number from your call history? Try calling him back. If he's close, then maybe we can locate him from the sound of his phone." Seiji proposed, making the brunet raise his eyebrow in confusion. "You can do it yourself." he commented pointing to the Yakuza boy. "I can, but I don't want to hear that guy's annoying voice close to my ear. Come on, aren't you worried about him? You do the honours, best friend." Seiji said simply, making Kisara bite her lip in worry as she noticed something rather concerning. "What if the reason this wire gate is cut is because Maru went through here?" she muttered as his own phone started ringing and it seemed like it came from the other side of the transmission tower.

Getting restless staying there doing nothing while the boys were bickering over the unresponsive phone call, followed the fence and found the familiar silhouette of Maru taking a break on the ground... A break from life, that is.

"OH.... FUCK! Guys, don't come here!" Kisara's shout rung loudly, but it was too late, as the boys got right next to her... And they didn't realise what was going on at first.

The boys were getting annoyed with him allegedly ignoring them, which made Akira want to snatch away that stupid wolf mask. Though the girl tried to stop him from doing so, he moved too fast, and instead of seeing his head, as they were expecting, Maruhashi's neck was filled with candy and other kid-looking things.

From the shock of this mockery of killing his subordinate in such a humiliating way, the Yakuza boy fell to the ground, glaring at Maru's corpse, gritting his teeth in anger. He was hyperventilating from fear and rage mixed together. Kisara could only kneel next to him to the ground, wrapping her arms around him, shifting his head so he would stop looking at the sight in front of him.

"Th-That bastard... Kubitarou... Sh-She did this to Maruhashi... Just like... The dog...!" he grips at his hair with both fists, nearly pulling out the strands. "Seiji, stop, please! We will get our revenge for Maru, I promise! But let's get out of here before she comes for us too!" she tried desperately to make him snap back to reality. "She killed him! Kisara, she killed Maruhashi! That bitch has to pay for this!" he growled in anguish, his eyes getting wet from pure fright and wrath. "I know, but think of it! Maruhashi was alive during that phone call, so he was just barely killed! That means Kubitarou is close, so we gotta run before she gets us too!" her fear and anxiety were great, but her protectiveness over her crush was greater.

Just then, the evening breeze started carrying that stupid children's song hum that plagued all of her nightmares. "You're right... If Kubitarou finds out we've been searching the well, she might go berserk... That could be why Maruhashi..." Seiji mumbled, mostly to himself. "It's dangerous to stay here. Listen to Kisara, and let's move to an alley somewhere, for now." Akira spoke in a firmer voice, dragging both of lovers away from there.

However, as they tried to make their escape, Kubitarou's humming voice appeared behind them, causing poor Seiji to tremble violently like a leaf in harsh wind. Kisara could do nothing but hold his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Don't turn around, she hasn't noticed us yet." the brunet muttered loud enough for only them to hear. "But what should we do? Run all the way back to the station?" his friend asked, barely keeping himself from stuttering. "No. If Kubitarou discovers what we did to the well, she'll be pissed and chase after us. Either way, my time limit's almost up... Gotta prepare for the worst and confront her." was Akira's response, to which the girl agreed. "We must get to the railroad station as fast as possible. It has lights and we have to discuss what to do with that teddy bear and how to merge the head with the body." Kisara explained, and they agreed.

However, no plan ever goes by the chosen steps, and as soon as they agreed on what to do, Kubitarou spotted the trio and started rushing towards the squealing youngsters filled with fright and surprise. At first, taking out the 'magic' bag, Kisara drew a line of salt, said some prayer with the seals in her hands, a talisman held between her palms, and as soon as Kubitarou approached, she threw the paper seals and some holy water at her...

Only to get the expected response - Nothing useful.

"Stupid old fraud of a hag, Towako Yasuoka, I swear to God I will come and kill you for this!" Kisara growled, feeling incredible rage and fear as she threw the bag at Kubitaro to keep her attention away while she takes out the crowbar and bracing myself, parrying an axe blow from Kubitarou. "Mashita, get the hell away from there!" Akira roared loudly. "Ahhh, DAMN IT! You guys go to the railroad station! I will lead her away, do a detour and come back!" the girl yelled, spinning around and throwing Akira the crowbar; She quickly darted past the monster, in the opposite direction, but Kubitarou wasn't following her, instead going for Seiji. "Kisara, what are you doing?!" he asked as Akira parried an axe blow, making the crowbar shatter, just like previously. "RUN! ... KUBITAROU, YOU STUPID, UGLY, FAT BITCH! YOU WANT A DOG HEAD? HERE, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN! AWOOOOOO!" Kisara started howling like a dog to the moon, which made the ghost snap her head in her direction and run towards her with annoying speed. "KISARA, NO! GET BACK HERE!" Seiji yelled after the girl desperately, only for her to squeal in fright, focused only on the killer ghost, and turned to run like hell. "AKIRA, TAKE SEIJI AND GO TO THE RAILROAD! NOW" she yelled before running through unfamiliar streets.

Seiji had to be dragged away from the horrifyingly shocking scene that unfolded before him; For all of his endless fear and hatred of that maniac spirit, seeing the girl he grew to care for so much willingly shielded them from danger and even went as far as to go on a sacrificial run to lure away the ghost. So what if they make it to the railroad, if she's not there? What was there to be done?

Likewise, Kisara was desperately trying not to curse her stupidity, knowing that going through streets and alleys alone, she willingly put herself at a disadvantage, seeing that a ghost has endless stamina and constant speed, while she has neither... And no direction skills either. She walked under the cut transmission fence, narrowly avoiding that damned axe, or getting cut, but nothing severe thankfully. Just some blood and slashed clothes...

Her poor outfit...

Of course, a full on run couldn't be done without some dead end alleys, turnarounds, fence jumping, tripping and crawling under some barbed wire fences, on which she scratched a lot of her skin, but she couldn't even feel any pain, in spite of how overly sensitive she was, because the fear she had made her sympathetic system secrete so much adrenaline that she felt like she was running on solely fear...

Especially when those axes were being slammed so close to her head. Too close for comfort.

After she managed to break free and get untangled from the wired fence, she was back on track towards the railroad crossing, and she went on a full sprint, seeing the barrier down and the red lights, along with the alarm warning of an incoming train.

She could hear Seiji's voice, yelling out her name, urging her to get to safety already, that Kubitarou was right behind her.. He rushed to the side of the rails, next to the ditch so he could catch and pull her to safety as she jumped.

But that was cut short, as just barely ten meters away from the rails, she was harshly pulled backwards, and she fell, suspended by her scarf-

No...

Kubitarou was holding her by the loose end of herscarf, screeching menacing, as she was struggling to pull the material away so she wouldn't choke before getting beheaded. It was like she was hanging at a witch trial, being accused of hexing someone. Her whole neck were in agony, and her blind panic made her reflexes act up quicker than her rational instincts.

Wait-

No, that's not okay!

"KISARA! GET UP! KISARA!" Seiji's desperate voice called out her name, as Akira was shouting random curses and insults at Kubitarou, but none had any effect. Her last witty reply to her attempted execution was to tug at the other end of the scarf and propel herself on her heels, twirling around to uncoil the material from her neck, which ended up with her getting dizzy, tripping over her feet and falling in the ditch because her legs were too damn weak from the terror.

With the remaining ounce of strength and will to live that she had left in her veins, Kisara pushed herself from the ground just as another axe was slammed down her way, and doing a semi-circle around Kubitarou, she managed to confuse her and sprinted the last tenmeters, jumping in the middle of the rails, then getting dragged on the other side by Seiji, who pulled her to his chest, one arm around her back, while the other on the back of her head, holding her into a tight embrace.

She wasn't quite sure which of the two was shaking worse, but it felt like an outright earthquake. "NEVER do that again, damn it!" Seiji tightened his grip on the girl who was weeping without realising; Her only response being to grip the back of his shirt, but her fingers were barely hanging on the material, as she had no power left in her, the adrenaline rush disappearing just as fast as it appeared.

"That was... S-So scary... How awful..." her voice was weak, as she whimpered with her face buried in her chest. "Hey, look, Kubitarou is leaving... What the hell? Did it get scared by the loud noise or what? It's her fault there's no lights and the flashlight isn't working!" Akira growled, growing antsy because of the deadline. "How can we lure her this way? ...I can't believe it's not following after almost killing me a few dozen times." Kisara muttered, unable to take her head away from Seiji's chest, heaving and panting erratically. "You've still got your gun? Maybe firing it would do." Akira suggested, making the boy nod. "Kisara, cover your ears, it will be loud..." Seiji lowered the lady to sit on the ground and regain her senses a little. "Let's liven things up, shall we?" the boy muttered, watching as his pitiful crush covered her ears, while he shot three times into the sky, the deafeningly loud noise making Kubitarou rush back to the source. "Hey come on, give 'em back... Give him back to me." Kubitarou's ghostly voice echoed through the place, which made them all shudder. "The Teddy bear... Rip its head off and put it on the old one's body..." Kisara managed to say between stutters. "You're right, good idea." Akira nodded, taking out the utility knife and ripping off the new teddy bear's head neatly. "Do we have anything to put them together?" the girl asked, taking out the old plush body from Akira's bag, and handing it out for one of them to use. "If I had a thread and needle I would do it myself, but my hands are shaking too much." shechuckled nervously, hugging Seiji's leg. "Don't worry, I will do it. I've always had dexterous fingers" Seiji spoke in slightly confident manner, taking out the tape and attaching the bear head to the plushie's neck. "Woaw... That's amazing...! It looks brand new!" Kisara blinked in surprise at the plushie as it was given to Akira. "You could be a surgeon." "Thank you for the praise, but I think law suits me better." he replied lightly, though his brows were set deep in worry. "I think I might have taken too long." he muttered, frowning in the direction of the ghost, who was glued by the barrier. "Quick, Akira, throw it at the ghost! Now!" the girl urged him to rush, and he did just as told. "Here it goes... KUBITAROU! Here's your little brother back!" Kubitarou squeezed the plushie close, giggling as she faded away into the light, with a wide smile on her face. "Did... Did we do it? We did it, didn't we?" the boys asked, unnerved, looking left and right for any supernatural sign. "I can't believe I'm alive..." Kisara kept saying over and over again, urging Seiji to kneel next to her and hug her close to his chest. "You're sleeping over at mine tonight, No objections. You've done enough for a life time." he spoke, watching the red haired lady nod her pretty head in a puppet-like way. "Sure... Yeah... Anything you say... We do that." she breathed out, trying to steady her inhales and exhales.

For some reason, Hazuki ran full sprint towards the group, informing them that the police was going after the motorbike gang, and when the question arose as to why she didn't call, they realised Akira's phone had several missed calls. They told her about Kubitarou and Maruhashi, the latter news which got her extremely shocked and saddened by the news. Looking better at the rails, they noticed a dirty reversible red and white cap; Kaoru urged Akira to touch the blood splattered under it, hoping he would see a vision of Ami, which is exactly what happened.

Akira suddenly started looking very disorientated, saying he heard a flute; Though nobody else could hear it, Kisara theorized that Kakuya was talking to him alone, telepathically or something... The sky was beginning to rumble unnervingly... A shiver going down her spine... And a very bad premonition...

"Guys, we should get the hell out of here. I don't have a good feeling about this place..." the terrified red head muttered, clinging on Seiji's arm, trying to pull him towards the station. "YOU HEARD HER! RUN, HURRY ALREADY!" Akira yelled at the others, as a noise split the atmosphere, and by instinct, Kisara stepped towards Akira who was farthest from the rails, trying to drag her crush with her.

A blinding white light struck the forest, and everyone lays flat on the ground. Still shaky from all the Kubitarou ordeal and the terrible premonition she had a few seconds prior, Kisara looked to the other side of the crossing, only to see the tree by the road  shattered into many scattered pieces, some having caught on fire, causing a smoke through which she could barely see or breathe.

On further inspection, as the red head managed to get into a sitting position, she notices both Seiji and Kaoru stuck under lit-up tree branches; Her first instinct was to rush to Seiji's side, trying her best to push the branch from his back. The next second, Akira joined her and together, they managed to push away the tree, shaking the boy awake. "So... Violent... My bones are going to collect in my feet..." the boy muttered as he got up; Seeing him alive and well, Kisara couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and throw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.  "Thank God you're okay..." he could feel her shaking like jelly, even worse than when she escaped Kubitarou or the Urashima Woman. Was she so worried for his safety? How sweet.  "I... I wouldn't say that. Looks like my leg's done in. I don't think I can walk... Oh, what about Hazuki?" he asked, looking around, not seeing her. "R-Right... I'll check!" Akira nodded, going to the girl's side. "Damn it... I'll call an ambulance. I have nothing to do a splint for your leg to keep it straight... Does it hurt too bad?" the doctress worried over the boy, helping him keep his leg straight. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Call an ambulance, please, but I have to get rid of this little toy." he took out his gun, which made her gulp and call over Akira.

"Sorry, I don't have a permit... Anymore. My brother does. If only he was here." she shook her head, quickly brushing away that thought. "Akira, do me a favour and take this. No way I can be taken to the hospital with something like this on me. So I want you to hold onto it for me instead. Since Kisara is coming to the hospital with me, you're the only other person I can trust with this." he explained, handing over the modified gun. "Okay." his friend nodded, taking it and putting it in his pocket. "Sorry for dumping trouble onto you... But now hurry up and leave. If the cops come, they'll want to question you and then all this would have no point." Seiji pointed it out, rushing his friend as the girl called over the ambulance. "What about Hazuki?" Akira asked, sparing her a worried look. "Don't worry, we'll take care of her. She'll get to the hospital. Trust me. Kisara here is a doctor, she knows her stuff. And besides, my leg is KILLING me, but my head and mouth are perfectly fine. Smooth talking is my specialty." the Yakuza smiled reassuringly at his best friend. "Fine. I'll call you later, okay? I'll leave the rest to you, Amanome." the brunet shared a look with his friend, who nodded in acknowledgement. "Don't slip on your end either, best friend." he replied as we saw Akira running away from Kintoki. "What a mess... This is such a mess... I can't believe this happened..." Kisara sighed, biting her lip hard, constantly looking left and right like a frightened meerkat, looking for the ambulance lights, whenever they may appear. "Kisara, don't blame yourself. You went there and almost got yourself killed by that stupid ghost trying to save us. That's more than anyone else would have done... And look at you... Your neck is bruised, and you have so many cuts on your beautiful skin... And you're still crying." he put his hands on her face, wiping the river of tears streaming down her face. "I hate seeing you like this." "Oh, I... I was so focused on this mess that I didn't even realise I was crying... Haha... How silly." she let out a weak chuckle, only for her bottom lip to tremble and give away the emotions overwhelming her. "I'm just... I'm just so terrified of anything happening to you... And... I'm so... Tired... Of ghosts and death and stalkers." she gritted her teeth, her head hung, her fingers pulling on her crimson locks a little too hard. "I just want to feel safe for once."

"You're staying over at my home tonight - There's nothing that could hurt you there. You're the safest you'll ever be." Seiji reassured her, extending his hands towards her. "Come here, pretty girl. I've got you. Let me take care of you, for once. There, there." he kept caressing her messy hair. "It will be fine. We got revenge for Maruhashi, and Hazuki will wake up when we get to the hospital. We won't have to deal with ghosts for a while, so we can sleep assured tonight." he explained using such a soothing and calm voice, that even the terrified young woman could relax her senses, a least a little bit. "Akira said he heard a flute... But we didn't. That means Kakuya was talking to him telepathically. That, correlated with the blinding light, that we could guess may have been a lightning, since they said they became often in Kintoki... I... I think this was a choice for Akira to make. Who will stay awake until Kakuya is beaten, you or Hazuki. And Akira chose you. If she hasn't woken up by now... I think she will when we beat Kakuya." Kisara hung her head, continuing to stressfully tug on her locks. "That's what happened before... Our victim-friends almost died before we could get rid of the ghost..." "Even if it is true, we will keep helping Akira and defeat Kakuya for once, and rescue Ami. Now I'm more driven to get revenge. Let's not think about that now, it's enough ghost hunting for a night." he suggested with a dry smile on his face. "I finally have some private time with the most beautiful lady I've ever met. It would be a pity to talk about ghosts and Hazuki, don't you think?" "Well, uhm... Uhm... S-So... Considering the mess we are in... What will you tell your dad when you bring me home?" she chuckled lightly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. "Hmm... Well, I can say that my beautiful doctor girlfriend insisted on staying over so she can take care of me... And my dog. Mostly my dog, but I'm the bonus." he joked, which made the girl lighten up instantly, look awaying and giggleing in amusement. "Is that really what you're gonna tell him? Hi, dad, I know shit hit the fan, and Maruhashi died... I was also slammed down by a tree, my girlfriend was chased around by an axe wielding maniac and my best friend's double-identity occult freak idol girlfriend was put in a coma by this stupid child ghost... But hey, here's my girlfriend and she's here to bond with Yuki, so hey, what a nice night, huh?" she mocked a rather dramatically comic monologue, which seemed to make the boy laugh at her antics. "I couldn't have said it any better." he nodded, and just then, the ambulance came, taking them to the hospital.

Of course, since Kisara can never sit still, she insisted on helping with Seiji's injuries and tended to her own -  They were mostly skin cuts that needed disinfecting and they would heal on their own. No use in bothering the already overworked doctors to care for something as unimportant as some cuts and bruises. On the other hand, the doctor confirmed Hazuki's wounds were shallow and would heal quickly by themselves... But the cause of her comatose was unknown and she should have been awake by then, which confirmed Kisara theory's theory of a ghostly comatose.

Getting a pair of nice crutches and making a splint for his leg, Seiji was allowed to go home, not before getting interrogated thoroughly - But what can two young sweethearts say except for the fact that they were on a romantic strolling, their friend joined in, when a lightning strike hit the tree, causing it to fall on two of them, and the third one took them from beneath the branches?  Easy white lies that can't be proven right or wrong.

The real problem was  Maruhashi's death, and how they definitely had no idea what happened. Seiji's dad was very nice, at least. Visibly worrying for his son, being very kind and polite with his lady companion when being introduced to her and saying it's no problem if she had a sleepover at their home, his wife, Ayaka, would be thrilled to meet her, and Yuki would be happy to have someone play with her.

His dad might have had a sparkling glint of amusement and realised there was something sparkling between the two of them, but wisely chose to only hide behind a fatherly smile. He knew if Seiji outright called Kisara his girlfriend, it would be embarrassing for her, so he played along with his son's choices.

But his dad isn't only a father, he is the Yakuza leader as well, so he had to somehow reprimand his son for failing to take care of his subordinate, thus he was put on a suspension, meaning that he won't really be able to leave the house for a little while. It could be also a blessing in disguise, considering he has to recuperate after the leg accident. Apart from the fact that he won't really be able to help Akira much, there was no downside to this, considering how sick of ghosts both of them were, so it should prove to be a good de-stressing period for him.

His dad's driver got all three of them home, and Kisara helped her lover boy get inside the house, where they were greeted by a cute little Samoyed baby girl resembling a rather energetic snowflake. Seeing such a cute dog, she instinctively forgot about the poor boy and dropped down, picking up the puppy and kissing her head, pampering her with endless love and affection, while she was licking her all over her face, barking from happiness at getting attention and love, which amused both men.

"We barely got here and she already stole all your attention from me." Seiji mocked hurt, but he wasn't bothered in the least. "As long as I don't call you Yuki, or her Seiji, I think it should be fine." she chuckled, cuddling with the puppy in her hands. "Why would you do that?" he asked, leading her to his room. "My mum used to do that accidentally. My dog was Kisara... Well, Kitsune... And I was Fifi. Fun, huh? I used to tease her a lot with this mistakes of hers." she grinned, albeit a bit nostalgic, as Seiji sat on the bed. "Well, then I'm going to have to suffer in silence." he chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "I'll ask the maid for some clothes for you, and in the morning, I'll have someone get you a fresh outfit. You can't leave this place with how damaged your clothes are now." he said with a more serious tone. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm not the one limping, nor am I the one grounded. Just focus on resting and fully healing that injury of yours." she pointed out, slowly getting to sit on the bed next to him too. "You should do the same. It's not every day a axe-wielding maniac ghost chases you around and hangs you by the scarf." he retorted with as much worry. "Tsk... I-I... I don't want to remember that... But it's also not the absolute worst thing I've been through before." the corner of her mouth lifted up in an ironic yet nervous semi-smile, which made him frown. "What could possibly top that?" he asked, curious. "...Another ghost hunt. In a love hotel. It, uh... I... I can't talk about it now, I'm too exhausted and it's far too painful. In fact, all those ghosts shattered me, in their own way." she shook her head quickly. "Remind me next time and I promise I'll tell you. The last thing I want is to go sleep with more screwed up memories." she shuddered, as Yuki curled up on her lap comfortably. "Hey, no, don't do that! Let me change first, then we can cuddle!" Kisara picked her up gently, putting her on the bed, as the maid brought her a large Tshirt and a pair of shorts that she changed in.

After helping Seiji get up to go to the bathroom and change as well, they got in bed, awkwardly looking at the ceiling, none of them saying anything, before she sighed and turned to face the boy.

"Come on, get down so I can hold you. You've been through enough today... But be careful with that leg, okay?" she spoke in a gentle voice, only to be surprised seeing him shake his head. "Let me hold you tonight. Trust me, that will make me feel much better, and you as well." he said, pulling her closer to him, as she rested her head on the crook of his neck. "Okay... Okay... I hope I can catch a wink of sleep, then..." somehow, being held by someone made her feel... Safe. Reassured and... Warm. She felt... happy. "Sweet dreams, Seiji." she murmured, a tired smile on her face, as he started playing with her hair, which instantly brought a sensation of drowsiness over her. "I hope you can sleep well and rest properly tonight, Kisara. Good night." he said, kissing the top of her head, feeling content with the image of the beautiful lady relaxing in his arms.

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[thisworldisablackhole]

Elevator To Hell Parts 1-3 (1996)

FFO: LO-FI POP, FOLK, INDIE ROCK / LISTEN

"In came a boy with mid-length greasy hair, he had lots of songs that he wanted to share."

And so he did. Through a stoned haze of squelching guitars and distorted synths, Rick White introduces himself with a parable of being attacked by a misanthropic bird named Roger. Roger hates the way that humans stare at him so unfriendly, so he decides to attack the boy. A barrage of panicked limbs erupts, and Roger is knocked to the ground, stunned with the taste of greasy hair in his mouth. It's hard to tell who the narrator actually is in this story.

1993 was a big year for Rick White. With nothing more than a couple demo tapes under their belt, his band Eric's Trip became the first group of Canadians to sign a record deal with Sub Pop, and their debut album was released to critical acclaim, but his personal life was a mess. Love Tara (somewhat humorously named after his new girlfriend, who would play bass for Elevator) was a concept album/musical therapy session dedicated to the break up of his relationship with fellow bandmate and collaborator Julie Doiron. It was a superbly intimate record—equal parts sad and awkward—but it was surprisingly mature for a couple of twenty year old's to hash things out like that for the world to hear, and the people loved it. Despite the bands sudden success, and the fact that he and Julie managed to stay cordial enough to tour and release two more albums together, it's safe to say that Rick needed a secondary outlet to express himself. Thus, in 1994, Elevator To Hell was born.

Parts 1-3 plays out like a collage of hazy, drug induced scrap book musings. It's a compilation of twenty-seven lo-fi and experimental pop, rock and folk songs that were all recorded straight to cassette on the day of their inception, without much of a second thought, and with whatever instruments that Rick could find laying about in his smoke filled bedroom. Rick's propensity for capturing a moment and translating it to song makes being a musician look easy. He doesn't need to spend days meticulously crafting a bridge or pre-chorus when hooks and harmonies flow out of him like water, and so he wrote and recorded to his heart's content. His stories are simple, and brought to life by a rotating cast of drums, bass, electric or acoustic guitar, and synthesizers—all of which are cycled in and out on a whim. The only real sense of cohesion holding this collection of songs together is their eclectic charm, but that's a huge part of the appeal. It's a mixed bag of styles and volumes that is sometimes sweet, sometimes spooky, sometimes quiet, and sometimes so loud that every input on the tape recorder must have been clipping and peaking to god knows where (warning: listening to "Boots" may induce bleeding of the ears).

All these pot smoke allegories are not baseless, by the way. Rick states quite plainly on second track “Why I Didn’t Like August 93” that he has a problem with girls, and with drugs, and implies throughout the album that these obsessions are simply fuel for his own self destruction. This problem becomes quite apparent and tangible to our ears over the hour that we spend listening to him fawn and reflect. Catchy love songs like “Three More Weeks” and “Made For You” are contrasted by the totally bizarre percussion soundscape of “Mercyful Fate” (named after, but not sonically inspired by the heavy metal band from Denmark), or the off kilter synth pop of “Killing Myself” and “Train From You”, amongst plenty of other head scratchers. Rick might be playing pinball with his genre exploration, but these songs are held together by a peculiar sense of melody and loneliness. During seventh track “Typical, Boy Loses Girl”, Rick asks why he even bothers writing these songs, and begs to escape from himself altogether. There’s always a hint of hyperbole and dramatization in music, but he was clearly going through it while writing these songs, and I’m just glad that he was able to continue pursuing art and funnel that turmoil into creation.

Not only has Rick White released a gargantuan library of music since this came out in 1996 (his bandcamp page is currently sitting at fifty-three releases, which doesn’t even include everything), but the landscape of music itself has come a long way since lo-fidelity tape recordings infiltrated the subculture markets of the 90s. This album definitely shows it’s age with it’s DIY sound and approach, and it probably wont attract many new ears outside of avid Eric’s Trip fans or CanCon historians, but Parts 1-3 is a special time capsule of ideas that really deserves to be uncovered. It’s the type of album that could only ever be made by a sad twenty-somethings stoner living in Moncton, New Brunswick in the 90s, and that’s why I love it. Rick White proved that you don’t need expensive equipment, or even a band, to create compelling stories, and that continues to inspire me to this day. A catchy hum along tune and a unique voice is all you really need. Oh, and maybe a side of psychoactive substances. Just don’t turn into Roger.

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