#spring reverb

[fuzzkaizer]

Everybody Hertz - Spring Reverb

11 inch reverb tank. Adjustable Reverb Drive and Mix Controls. Seperate Blended output (mix of Dry and wet asignals) and dicrete Mosfet Wet Only Output. Reclaimed Hardwood case. 15v AC UK power adaptor.

cred: facebook.com/Dom Allen

[ekssperimental]

INTRODUCING 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗘𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗕𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲

A Rack Extension Effects pair with a lot of vintage vibes!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐭 𝟔𝟑𝟔

𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘵 636. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘶𝘣 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘙𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘌𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩, 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴—𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴.

· 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗩𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱: Crafted with high-quality impulse responses, this reverb unit captures the rich, resonant tones that are a hallmark of classic dub and reggae productions.

· 𝗦𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲, 𝗘𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹𝘀: Shape your sound effortlessly with intuitive controls for Input Level, Gain, Dry/Wet Mix, and Output Level. The Gain knob specifically emulates the warm saturation of vintage analog preamps, enriching your mix with authentic vibes.

𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: CV input jacks for Input Level, Gain, and Mix allow for dynamic modulation and automation, perfect for creative sound design.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐭 𝟑𝟔𝟑

𝘈 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯 636 𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣 𝘙𝘌 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 – 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.

· 𝗔𝗱𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘆: Offers delay times from 10 to 750ms, with sync options from fast 1/128 steps to long 2/2 cycles, perfect for creating anything from tight delays to expansive echoes. The delay can be bypassed by turning the knob all the way down, or by using the dedicated flip switch.

· 𝗧𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗘𝗺𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: The signal is passed through a tape emulating stage for warm, analog-style sound. Adjust tape clipping (Soft, Medium, Harsh) and stability (0-100%) to add character and texture, emulating the imperfections and character of classic tape machines even when the delay is set to bypass.

· 𝗗𝘆𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗙𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: Featuring gentle resonant 6dB/Oct high-pass and low-pass filters placed in the feedback path, each delay repetition can be subtly shaped to create unique textures and evolving effects. Perfect for adding movement and dimension to your delays.

· 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗘𝗤: Two-band parametric EQ with frequency control and a unique gain/attenuation knob that narrows the Q value when boosting, giving you precise tonal shaping.

· 𝗘𝘅𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗢𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀: With ample CV connectivity and breakout jacks for custom feedback routing, the Champion 363 allows for endless experimentation.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘶𝘣 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘌𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘉𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.

[nctrnm]

#NowPlaying: "Surfing The Feedback" by bartonmusic

[7andaswitch-blade]

[guitarbomb]

Discover the Vintage Charm of Behringer Spring Reverberation 636

Dive into the sonic depths of the past with the Behringer Spring Reverberation 636, a masterpiece that resurrects the iconic Grampian analog reverb essence. Designed for guitarists,  Eurorack enthusiasts, and vintage sound aficionados alike, this spring reverb unit brings the classic, expansive soundscapes of yesteryears into the modern studio setup. Behringer Spring Reverberation 636: A…

[ftzf-olivier]

Réparation d'une table de mixage

Bienvenue dans ce 2ème chapitre sur l’exploration et la réparation d’une table de mixage que je me suis procurée en brocante. Dans le 1er chapitre nous avions checké les possibles failles de la table et fait ce qu’il fallait pour pouvoir la mettre en route. Nous avions vu en particulier que l’étage amplificateur ne risquait pas de fonctionner… Dans ce chapitre nous allons voir si l’étage…

[faebiebot]

in terms of bass playing I find using delay and reverb rather difficult. the only time based effect i find consistently useful is spring reverb specifically. the more obviously spring the better. because bass guitar is so deeply pitched time effects have a tendancy to devolve into absolutely sludgey mud. either that or be so mild as to have about as much tonal difference as tonewood on a solidbody. which is to say, none. spring reverb on the other hand has a very unique tone compared to other forms of reverb. It plays really well with accentuating the bass' attack noises and i find that other reverbs dont do so well. perhapse i could use a send track with a low pass filter to cut off all the low end so that the TBEs dont muddy up the tone.

[hammondcast]

That's All Jon Hammond

#WATCHMOVIE HERE: That's All Jon Hammond 

Jon's archive https://archive.org/details/thats-all-jon-hammond 

Youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PCKZnUsXc8 

FB https://fb.watch/hI4IFMMK0o/ 

That's All Jon Hammond

by

 Jon Hammond 

 Usage

 Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 4.0 International

Topics

 that's all folks, console organ, Hammond organ, fingers are the singers, spring reverb, leslie speaker, Jon Hammond

Language

 English

That's All Jon Hammond th the that's all folks https://www.hammondcast.com the fingers are the singers#thatsallfolks #springreverb #hammondorgan #consoleorgan #fingersarethesingers 

#lesliespeaker 

Addeddate

 2022-12-28 07:18:36

Identifier

 thats-all-jon-hammond 

  that's all folks, console organ, Hammond organ, fingers are the singers, spring reverb, leslie speaker, Jon Hammond 

that's all folks, console organ, Hammond organ, fingers are the singers, spring reverb, leslie speaker, Jon Hammond

[slowparty808]

NickiMinajLoveeople

Hi.there please link the art to the music like Sins with Skims

meet me in ‘dream land’ collection designed by cindy kimberly for her brand ‘loba by c.k.’

photographed by lonightly

[toyastales]

Reverb Acrylic Painting by LaToya Cole

https://www.saatchiart.com/lcolestudios

[fuzzkaizer]

Billy Zoom - Little Kahuna reverb unit

"Somewhat based on the vintage Fender Reverb tank but with added tube tremolo."

cred: reverb.com/Phil's Stuff

[bmpmp3]

and literally WHAT is better than lying in bed in the darkness and silence of night and being lulled to sleep through the honking song of flocks of geese flying by

[maybeasunflower]

If you like that, you'll (probably) like this

... and if you want to see "how to do a reverb effect without an echo chamber / electronic black box / software":

Görkem Şen is a Turkish musician who wanted to create the sounds of electronic music acoustically. His invention, the yaybahar, is a string instrument connected to drums via metal coils that creates a wide variety of otherworldly music.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i'll stay on this drive for as long as you'd like | fushiguro megumi

wc: 3.2k

summary: megumi knows you a lot better than you think.

contains: f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!reader, non-curse!au, college!au, established relationship, hurt/comfort.

a/n: some songs for the vibe: streetcar - daniel caesar, the movies - nightly, night drive - red velvet.

part: 1 | 2 | 3 series m.list: by your passenger seat

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: acting like it’s okay when you know it’s too much 

sponsored by @ceroseis and @itskilau for the @ficsforgaza initiative. please check it out and support if you can!

It’s on the drive back from one of your friends’ graduation afterparty that Megumi can tell something’s off. 

The trees whizzing past your window begin to dwindle, commercial buildings replacing them bit by bit—a clear sign of your trip drawing further away from the party venue and closer to the bustling streets of home. 

He looks over to you every now and then, your back pressed against the black leather seats of his sedan. That spot is yours, adjusted and fitted to your liking; on most days, you settle into it comfortably, but tonight, you sit with unease. 

There’s a tightness around your shoulders that extends all the way down to your clenched fists, and if it still isn’t any obvious from that, it’s one look at how you bite down tensely on your jaw that gives you away completely. 

Are you cold? He wonders, then checks the AC. 

Spring has brought in warmer days, but the nights are unpredictable—

His brows furrow, one hand tightening around the steering wheel as he uses the other to increase the temperature slightly. Just in case. 

—you’re still wearing the microfleece jacket he brought to the afterparty. 

Only a few words have been exchanged between you two so far—which is not unusual. Car rides with you are typically silent, comfortable in that either of you can speak whenever you want; there’s never any pressure to fill in empty pauses and long stretches of nothingness. 

It’s always a shared look, maybe a touch; a joint experience in enjoying each other's company despite not doing much.

But, this quiet is different. Tense. One that’s riddled with feelings you seem to be hiding. 

Megumi can tell. 

You pick your nails from his periphery, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you focus on the road straight ahead. On your lap rests your phone, filled with songs queued up for CarPlay—a task you’ve made your own since marking your permanence in his passenger seat. 

A slow reverb plays as the accompaniment to your silence, and the song is familiar, one he knows full well exists in some of your vaguely named mood playlists. 

“Sometimes you just want to feel something, y’know?”

And Megumi thinks that’s all fine and good; Kugisaki’s called him ‘moody’ more than a few times. But he watches you now and he can’t even tell what you’re feeling exactly, just that you don’t feel okay.

He hears you take in a breath. 

In the years you’ve known each other, Megumi’s learned that you tell him most things, but only when you’re ready. It’s not a problem with him, it’s just your way of processing things—is how you explained it. 

Still, something about the way you’d gradually curled in on yourself and avoided most of the night’s conversations makes him feel worried. It gives him the sinking feeling that if he doesn’t ask about it now, you’ll let tonight play out like nothing’s wrong; you’ll sweep it under the rug and when he asks about it next time, you’ll dust it off like it never happened to begin with. 

Then he’ll never know.

And, that doesn’t sit well with him at all. 

His eyes glance over at the directions on his CarPlay. The breath he takes is crucial, inhaled with contemplation before it’s released with his decision. 

At the end of the song’s chorus, right before it changes key for the bridge, Megumi takes a detour. His palm lays flat on the wheel as he turns it to the left abruptly. An excuse waits at the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out for when you say—

“I think we were supposed to go straight…” your voice trails off, equal parts unsure and fragile. 

“Gojo-sensei wants me to check out a property,” he lies, straight through his teeth. It doesn’t sound too far off from a real possibility. 

“Oh,” you mumble, more resigned than usual as your fingers reach for the screen. “Do you want me to pin it?” 

“No need,” he pauses, eyes momentarily flitting over to your hand. 

The thought simmers for only a second before he reaches for your fingers with his own, interlacing them together and stroking your knuckles with his thumb; back and forth, gently.

It’s a habit he’s developed in well over the year that you’ve been together; a grounding sign of his affection that no longer flusters him as much as it used to. It means many things, but he hopes you can tell what he’s trying to say right now—

“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking,” as he rests your interlaced hands on your thigh.

The warmth on your lap causes you to look up, your lips curling up into a tight smile. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. 

Maybe you think it does the job, but Megumi knows you; he knows how you breathe when you’re anxious, knows the way your eyelashes flutter when you’re on the brink of tears. He knows when your smile isn’t any bit genuine, when it fails to reach your eyes and you turn away quickly as if to hide that fact. 

He clasps your hands together and squeezes. 

You hold your breath, turning your head to watch the view: city buildings reverting back to trees. 

It runs down the side of the road in an endless stream, along with time, and the unease that settles in his stomach when you don’t respond to his squeeze with familiar grip. 

He looks on ahead. 

Megumi has no idea where the fuck he’s driving to; the directions on his CarPlay constantly reroute him back to your neighborhood, but he’s taking every wrong turn and crossing every road he isn’t supposed to just to buy some more time to stay in this ride with you. 

“This is that new artist you’ve been talking about lately, right?” he attempts.

You only hum. 

The car slows for a red on the stoplight ahead, and he tells himself he’ll give you this time and wait until it ends. If after this, you’re still quiet—

It turns green. 

—”Is everything okay?” he makes sure to look at you when he asks. 

When your eyes meet his, he can already tell what front you’re about to play up. It’s painful when he watches your face shift into something else, eyes forcibly widening as your smile pulls tightly at your cheeks.

“Yep! Why wouldn’t it be?” 

He hates it. 

How can you pretend to sound happy in front of him, of all people, too? 

He turns away, eyes focusing back on the road. Your hand remains clasped in his, still unmoving; Megumi doesn’t know you like this—you’ve only ever squeezed back just as tightly, if not more, holding onto him all the way home. 

The furrow between his brows deepens as his finger taps lightly on the wheel. Restless. 

He allows the silence to stretch on.

.

A few more minutes find him driving past missed turns and wrong roundabouts, the scenery around you transforming into empty fields of tall grass dimly lit by lampposts. The lights fade in and out on repeat, casting itself as hazy, muddled hues upon your face.

Megumi glances from time-to-time, catching your reflection on the window of his passenger seat. 

The expression on your face remains tight, pulled together in an effort to keep it together. And Megumi isn’t typically one to pry, nor is he the type to outright intervene with what others are going through—

But, he just wants you to tell him what’s wrong. 

The feeling scratches at him, a quiet torture as it turns him impatient. He can only grind his teeth. 

Your songs continue to play as he drives down empty roads, each one turning sadder than the last. And he wonders for a moment when it’ll end; if listening to these songs for long enough will make you feel any better—enough at least, for you to begin to open up. 

In the midst of his rumination, you move, angling yourself away from him ever so slightly as you reach up to run your fingers through your hair, microfleece sleeve brushing against your cheeks lightly. 

You don’t think he sees you, he’s sure, but he spots you on your reflection—

The window of his passenger seat is pitch black, already heavily tinted on its own, but exacerbated more by the darkness of the evening outside. It lends itself as the perfect blank slate to return any image that light casts upon it. Tonight, its subject happens to be you.

—with tears streaming down your face. 

And it makes his chest ache, heart sinking straight to his stomach. 

The breath you take is heartbreakingly still, a staggered inhale that is so careful and so considerate of the fact that you don’t want him to hear it hitch. Your lips are trembling, bitten down to keep in any sob that might spill out. 

Megumi hates this the most, he’s decided. 

He clenches his jaw. 

Just a few meters ahead is a clearing lit up by another lamppost. The road is vacant enough for him to pull the car over to the side, still leaving room for other cars to pass by. 

So he decides.

Pushing the hazard button and signaling to turn, Megumi slows the car down to a stop. You wipe at your face quickly when you notice, trying discreetly to fix yourself up before facing him. 

“Did something happen?”

Your sniffle slips. 

He doesn’t say anything, shifting the gear into park as he leans back on his seat. The leather squeaks under his movement, each noise amplified now that the car is completely still.

Megumi takes a deep breath.

“Nothing happened,” he starts, considering his next actions very carefully as he turns to face you. 

His fingers reach up slowly, gently wiping at the tips of your eyelashes; your tears glisten at its tips. 

Something in your expression shifts, the front you put up gradually turning into guilt. 

(He knows; he’s noticed you this entire night.) 

Time stops for Megumi in moments you never know: when you laugh, and your cheeks lift life to your eyes; when you hold him, by hand or by heart—he can’t tell the difference sometimes; when you tell him you love him, whether whispered against his collarbone or spoken through your lips locked in his.

You look pretty in all of them, you always do; even now, drowning in the fabric of his clothes with strands of your hair kissing your nose. 

It’s enough to already make his chest hurt. 

But then your tears begin to spill over, rushing down in streams over your cheeks, and he can’t put a name to this feeling—this immense pressure that sinks down to his stomach, twisting and aching. It’s worse than what he felt moments ago. 

His thumbs press themselves to the dampness under your eyes, wiping away where he can as he cradles the rest of your face. 

Megumi is the last person anyone would ever call to handle tears, but his body moves on its own when it leans towards you. It feels natural, right, when his lips rest softly against your forehead, fingers slotting themselves around your ears. 

Your hands hold onto his wrists firmly, as if grounding yourself. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” 

He adjusts himself, quickly releasing his seatbelt to lean over the center console. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, and—

(It’s hard, you want to tell him. Nothing ever seems enough sometimes.) 

You tuck your face in the crook of his neck, your arms hooking themselves around his back and onto his shoulders. 

“Did I–” he starts, unsure, as he brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head, “Is it it me?” 

You shake your head. 

(Of course, it isn’t. How can it be?)

“I don’t know what to do, Megumi,” you mumble, choked up as you inch away from him to rub at your eyes. 

He waits for you to continue.

“We just graduated,” your fingers grip at your pants, “I should be happy, and I am, but,” you hiccup, “everyone has all these plans and big dreams and,” a deep breath, “I don’t even know what I want to do.” 

(Your tears soak through your speech, punctuating them in drenched uncertainty.

Everything throbs, a heavy thumping beating in your head. The only thing that cuts through is the familiar ‘click’ of the door unlocking, Megumi’s hand on the handle as you turn towards him curiously.) 

“Let’s step outside,” he directs, his door already half-open. 

When you move to follow suit, he turns off the engine before stepping outside.

The crisp air of spring is sharper in the evening, littering goosebumps down the sides of his arms. A breeze picks up and brushes against his ears, but being near you, in any capacity, has always been enough to make his insides feel warm. 

He circles around the front of the car to get to your side, pausing a few steps in front of you, as if asking for permission. 

You take a step and then another, tears welling up as you inch closer for a hug. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, voice small as you slack in his hold. He tucks you under his chin, hand cradling the back of your head again. “I always thought I’d figure it out eventually,” you continue, “but we’re here and I haven’t, and…” 

Your grip on him tightens.

“Did anyone trigger this earlier?” he asks softly, his finger rubbing against the nape of your neck. 

(That’s the problem, though—there isn’t anyone in particular. You know Megumi is asking so he can steer you clear of any future interactions with said person, but that’s not the case; it’s all you and the things you’ve overheard. All you and the things you see on your social media feed—an insecurity that drowns out anything else around you. 

People often mean well when they ask what you’re up to, but your response always leaves a bitter, acrid aftertaste when you feel like you can never give them an honest answer.) 

You shake your head, digging your face deeper into his neck. Your lips tickle his skin when you speak, “Just overheard stuff.”

Megumi sighs, holding you closer. 

He blinks once, taking in the clear open fields and the endless road ahead. Up above, stars splatter white against the sky, and if he listens closely, he’ll hear the faintest hiss of the springtime breeze. 

“It’s all just… noise,” he mumbles, lips pressing on the crown of your head. “You always tell me…” in the depths of his mind he fishes for a memory as proof,  “everything else is just noise when you have me and good music with you.” 

He feels shy recounting it word-by-word, heat rising to his cheeks; but Megumi has never been good at comfort, and this is his honest attempt at that. 

You chuckle sadly, a little watery as you reply, “It’ll just be me and the music when you leave though.” 

And even though this is your honest attempt at taking the situation lightly, the statement hits him square in the chest with its gravity.  

He hums and chooses to linger with you in the quiet, the occasional wisps of wind whizzing in the background. 

There’s not a lot Megumi can say that’ll make any of his statements valid, because all his plans have been laid out since his third year in uni: work his way through his course (which he did, in flying colors, actually), bag an internship (which he also did, for an extended contract too), and eventually land a job offer (which he also just did, a few days ago for a company in Kyoto). 

But, there is one thing he knows he can say with utmost certainty:  

“We’ll figure it out together.” 

Your head whips up quickly, brows furrowing as you give him a look. 

(If it’s what you think he’s implying, you won’t allow it. He has to—)

“...’ll still go. You’ll kill me if I don’t.” he huffs, leaning back to get a better look at you.

You look confused. 

(Megumi staying behind in Tokyo isn’t even an option for you; not when he has an attractive offer waiting for him in Kyoto, and most especially not when the only reason he’d be staying is because of you.

You’d been the one who encouraged him to apply and you promised yourself that you’d continue to support him all the way through. The fact that he’s leaving is sad, but you’ll never forgive yourself if you end up being the reason he’s held back from something so good.)

“I’ll visit,” he tucks your hair behind your ear, “or you can stay with me whenever you want while we figure something out for you.” 

“You can lean on me.” 

(His eyes meet yours sincerely, deep blue speckled with street-lit hues. It’s honest, and he only means to reassure you, but something inside you is saying—)

“You’re not… you’re not a failure, or a disappointment, or whatever, just because you’re having a hard time figuring it out by yourself.” he continues to speak, finding the right words as his hands fall down to press on your waist. “It’s why I’m here.” 

(—you should still feel bad. Your life is your responsibility, and Megumi shouldn’t be the one holding onto all the pieces when you’re struggling to get it together. And yet—)

When you open your mouth to rebut, Megumi, somehow, already knows what you’re about to say. 

“It’s not baggage, and even if you insist it is,” he pauses, as if working a way to verbalize how he feels. His eyes hold yours in this moment, tears welling up along your lash line; there is a weight to what he’s about to reveal. 

He takes a breath, swallowing. 

“I want to take it on with you.” 

Your tears fall and Megumi catches them, his thumbs gently pressing against your cheeks. 

(There are a lot more thoughts racing through your mind, but for now you focus on the peace he offers you. Megumi is rarely verbal with his feelings, so hearing him be so open like this means more to you than anything.)

“Okay,” you rest your forehead against his collarbone. 

Megumi pulls you closer as you both stand by his car, his arms a steady stronghold that grounds you. He gives you a few more moments of quiet until he feels ready to ask, “Are you ready to head home?”

You lift your face from his chest, eyes puffed up and a little dry. Your hand searches for his, interlacing your fingers together when you find it resting against the small of your back. 

“Can we drive for a little bit longer?”

He nods and his lips curl up into a smile, small and knowing as he opens the car door. 

But before you go back in, his hands take hold of yours, rubbing them gently to heat them from the cold. He brings your fingertips up to his lips, the display of affection rendering him pink, still (to you, the look on his face never gets old); he kisses them lightly before he lets go, walking to his side of the car so he can stay on this drive for as long as you’d like, until you’re ready to go home. 

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! thank you so much for reading 🥺 writing this was deeply personal, and writing megs will always be one of my favourite things 🥺

thank you notes: @pastelle-rabbit for thinking about drive megs with me and sending me songs! 🥺 + @ceroseis @mieiri for everything always 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[guitarbomb]

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This new Supro series includes two combo amps, the Delegate Custom and the Ambassador Custom, Both hand-built in the USA using “ultra-premium” components.  Supro Style Supro’s Delegate Custom and Ambassador Custom both look great and have that classic vintage aesthetic.  The Valco-inspired wraparound cabinets, crafted from poplar and available in black or burgundy custom Scandia Tolex with gold…

[itsjunear]

Shadows and Whispers

Note: Hello loves! I'll try to be more active and post more often, maybe once a week (this is my proof that I'm trying 😀). It's really been a long week for me, but I truly appreciate and I'm so happy for the support the previous post received. I'm very grateful for the likes, reblogs, and comments 💙💙💙 I'm not sure if I should make a second part of that one, but in the meantime, here's this. I hope you enjoy it, and sorry if it's a mess! Again, remember that English is not my first language, but if there are any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know! I’m leaving the song I wrote this with, the slow version sounds really good :)

P.S.: I’m not really sure if this would work in ACOTAR, but I don’t know, I just liked the idea.

Words: +1k

Warnings: none, slight mention of tension

Summary: Reader and Azriel are sent on an undercover mission where they must pretend to be a couple. Reader has unresolved feelings, and the closeness with the shadowsinger leaves her confused.

The Mother definitely had a twisted sense of humor.

I was certain that in this life, I was paying for each and every bad thing I had done in my previous ones. If not, what would be the point of all this?

I had to suppress the complaint lodged in my throat ever since I had left the meeting with Rhys and he had communicated his plans for the Autumn Court.

Why? Why did these things always happen to me?

I could have gone with Cassian, Mor, or even Amren. I wouldn’t have had any issue pretending to be the lover of one of them. But of course, I had to go and pretend with Azriel.

Rhys had received a formal invitation to a ball in the Autumn Court, but decided to send us instead to investigate the political situation surrounding that entire red-haired family and how the stir was being perceived by the court’s nobles. Evidently, we were supposed to look as distracted as possible to catch any murmurs here and there, and the simplest way to do that was by pretending we were simply there to enjoy the evening as a couple in love.

Fantastic, I thought.

"I try to respect your privacy and not intrude on your thoughts" I heard Rhys’s voice in my head "but the way you’re shouting them, I could hear them even from the scraps of the Spring Court."

I grimaced but didn’t respond, letting the anger fill my mind so that he could feel it.

"Why are you so… irritated?" I heard him ask with genuine curiosity, and I sighed.

Rhys could dig just a little and find the reason, but he would never dare. Not without my permission.

"What do you care" I barked mentally, sulking.

I’d apologize later for speaking to my High Lord like that, but right now, I could feel the smoke coming out of my ears, and I guessed he could too because a laugh echoed in my mind before it simply vanished.

"Idiot" was the last thing I thought before raising my mental walls and reinforcing them with everything I had.

By the Cauldron, what was the problem? Well, for starters, I wasn’t in love with Cassian or Mor.

Hell, I had even suggested going with Amren to avoid going through this. Going undercover with Cassian was impossible—Nesta’s scent was all over him, and it wasn’t a secret that he had a mate. Mor was in the Winter Court visiting Viviane, and Amren… well, she was busy with Varian.

So that only left the shadowsinger and me free. Plus, neither of us was involved with anyone publicly, so we were the perfect candidates.

This time I didn’t suppress the groan of exasperation as I headed to my own room in the House of the River. I missed the company of the House of Wind, but now that Cassian and Nesta were there, it was impossible for me to stay—for the sake of my mental health, I fled that place. So I sighed and nearly cried when I reached my bed, bracing myself and trying to find the strength to endure what would happen in a few days.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two nights had passed. Two damned nights sleeping like shit, practicing a mask of indifference and composure that I clearly didn’t feel.

I had also been more sensitive than usual, so I tried to avoid everyone, including Azriel. However, I saw Cassian every morning at training, and although I felt him casting strange glances at me, anticipating my mood, he didn’t ask about it. For that, I was grateful.

In a few hours, Azriel and I would be on our way to the Autumn Court, and I was just trying to control my breathing to avoid panicking. Even now, my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t fasten the endless buttons on the back of the pretty midnight blue dress, adorned with some crystals at the top and quite fitted from the waist down. Courtesy of Rhys.

A knock on the door distracted me from the mission, and holding the top of the dress to my chest, I opened it to come face to face with the man I had been avoiding with all my might.

I had to restrain myself from shrinking away upon seeing him in all his glory—not dressed in Illyrian leathers, but in a formal suit the same color as my dress, fitted in all the right places that made him look out of this world. If you added the large wings behind his back, the stoic hazel gaze, and the tendrils of shadows that surrounded him, giving him a mysterious and irresistible air… My breath faltered a bit.

He scanned me from head to toe as well, and the shiver that ran through me was completely involuntary. His gaze burned, but I did nothing to break the silence in which we were immersed.

"You look… beautiful" he finally said, hesitating a bit.

I swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of how to act. I had never been shy about receiving compliments, but when they came from him, they managed to destabilize me.

"Thanks" I whispered "You look great too."

Azriel nodded, and I saw his eyes drift to my chest, right where my hands were holding the dress.

"I need help with the buttons" I said in a tired tone.

He nodded again and entered my room, closing the door slowly. His shadows roamed freely, and I felt one of them caress my braided hair, making me smile.

"Sorry" Azriel apologized as he gestured for me to turn around.

I shook my head.

"I like them" I replied with a smile that died the moment I felt his fingers touch the exposed skin of my back.

"And they like you" he answered in his usual calm tone.

I didn’t respond, fearing my voice would tremble, and I focused on avoiding my skin from tingling wherever his touched. I even resorted to thinking about the painful blows to the stomach that Cassian gave during training when Azriel’s hands brushed dangerously low on my back.

I knew he also noticed the tension by the way his wings were tucked, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, I released the breath I had been holding once he finished and he removed his hands, though a strange sense of loss invaded me. Nevertheless, I ignored it.

A moment later, I turned around and faced him, tilting my head back to meet his eyes now that we were so close.

"Rhys told me you had certain… reservations about this" he broke the silence, looking at me with a calm expression.

Of course, he had told him.

I almost scoffed.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted me.

"We won’t do anything you haven’t consented to or that makes you uncomfortable"

I frowned.

"Of course I know that, Az. It’s just that I doubt this will work" I responded, smoothing out my dress a little.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Though that wasn’t the main reason. It all boiled down to the fact that doing this with him made me nervous.

"It will" he reassured me. "Rhys and I have evaluated all the scenarios. We are the most credible for this plan. Just trust me"

I nodded, though I couldn’t shake the slight anxiety of having him so close.

The shadow from before wrapped around my arm, making me smile again. Even though the touch was cold, it didn’t feel strange, so I didn’t fear playing with it with one of my fingers, not realizing I was practically brushing Azriel’s wing membrane until I noticed his shiver and the way his breath escaped him. I quickly pulled my hand away and looked at him only to find him with his eyes shut and the rest of his shadows slightly agitated.

"I’m sorry, Az" I apologized. "I’m so sorry"

I knew how reserved the Illyrians were about their wings and how they shouldn’t be touched, so his silence only increased the unease brewing inside me.

"It’s fine" he replied slowly after a moment. "It’s nothing" but I could see him swallowing hard.

I bit the inside of my cheek but said nothing more.

"We should go now" he spoke after a moment.

I nodded and took one of his hands, preparing to pretend I was in love with him, according to that stupid plan. When in reality, I would stop pretending I wasn't, for a moment.

That was what terrified me—letting my feelings out and not being able to hide them again after tonight.

But there was no turning back now.

"Ready?"

No.

"Yes" I responded with the steadiest tone I could muster.

He gave me a deep look before I felt the shadows envelop us, and soon the room lit up, leaving us at the entrance of the grand hall of the Autumn Court.

Then, I let go of one of his hands and gently brought it to his cheek, trying to convey my intentions. He held my gaze for a second before bending obediently, giving me the opportunity to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

The sensations exploded inside me, but I held back. This was a mission, I reminded myself. So why did his hand immediately curve around my waist?

This is just a mission, I repeated.

I pulled away a moment later, smiling softly at him. Before we both straightened up.

I supposed we had made it quite clear that we were together by kissing in front of all these people. I made sure to do it at the entrance so everyone would see, and I guessed Az understood too by the slight squeeze he gave my hand.

I looked at him one last time, letting a bit of my love for him escape. And then I turned towards the crowd, with a bright smile.

All right, the game had begun.

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