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newmusicradionetwork · 10 months ago

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Tania Doko "Harder Now"

When you know, you know There are few things in this world more spellbinding than a great vocal, the captivating magic of a beautiful, resounding singing voice. One of those belongs to Tania Doko, the way she connects, how it carries. Listen and you’ll find out. Music has taken her all around the world, up charts and down winding roads where anything can and has happened thus, chances are you’ve already heard her. Then you’d already know that some journeys continue without an end. Relentlessly forwards, the work of Tania Doko. Harder Now Beauty attracts beauty, the cycle spins to set all meaningful things in motion, drawing from all sorts, even the broken. In fact, the beauty found there radiates a very special light. In July of 2023, Tania Doko released a first single from her EP. It’s called Harder Now, for very good reason, love. She’s two feet firm on Australia’s red soil again, for this, a new chapter in her music. How it all comes together: Her career started early and precisely on a coffee table, cheered on by her proud Italian/Albanian family but thus far, Tania Doko is perhaps best known for her work in the ARIA awarded pop-duo Bachelor Girl. Their success is tremendous and together with James Roche she’s responsible for hit-songs like ‘Buses and Trains’, irresistibly cutting through anything to become the most played Australian composition on radio Down Under over the last 20 years. Signed by Clive Davies, the album ‘Waiting for the Day’ went double platinum. The adventures with Bachelor Girl has been many and continues on to this day. Touring and continuously releasing a string of new material and only this year they released the song ‘Calling out your name’ whilst joining Darren Hayes on the road, a particular relationship that began when Tania Doko toured with him back in 2007. The many adventures with Bachelor Girl lead Tania and James to be cast in leading roles in ‘Tim Rice’s Musical Spectacular’ alongside INXS at one point. Meanwhile and please, do try to keep up Tania Doko also moved to Sweden for ten years, got married, built a family, wrote hit records with The Veronicas, Jessica Mauboy, Eric Bazilian, Taylor Dayne, Delta Goodrem, Sheppard, Tina Arena, to name a few. She’s done Disney film, K-pop and even dabbled in Eurovision hey, at one point she herself was a contestant singing her amply named song ‘Piece of Me’. She performed at the Sydney Opera House with ‘Hear Me Roar’ alongside some of Australia’s finest. She toured with Australia’s ‘Let’s get together’, with Jon Stevens, Ian Moss and Jack Jones, started a successful podcast for exile Aussies in Sweden, was given a role in ‘Seriously. The Pet Shop Boys Reinterpreted’ in Edinburgh, UK, to the great pride and joy of The Boys themselves. Oh my, left to her own devices. She’s been a judge on Channel 7’s ‘Popstars’, an APRA ambassador and you should know she holds a degree in Psychology and Criminology. Helpful in her work for positive change, dealing with troubled youth in Australia. Some of her most rewarding, vital work as she calls it. She’s continuously lent her voice to the European EDM scene, writing and featuring with acts like Leroy Styles, Deep Matter, Gabi Newman. She’s sung to LGBTQ audiences from Manchester’s Pride to Sydney’s Mardi Gras. Then when the world stopped, Tania re-evaluated. There was a very special dream of an album of her own, it grew and just like that, in 2021, Tania Doko and her family moved back to Australia.. Dealing with a longing heart, roots grow long but there’s nothing quite like the source, home. Where do we go now? The welcome was warm. Joining the cast of ‘Fleetwood Mac Orchestrated’, touring all around the country, such beautiful homecoming. Numerous shows with Bachelor Girl and seeing both her and James now shared the same continent, it generated renewed energy to meet the popular demand of seeing them perform live again. But it’s time ‘The beauty’s in the broken’ In Stockholm, from time to time, she would write music for artists with Mattias Lindblom. Often it would fail, in a sense. Perhaps because the music was simply too personal, too perfectly fitting to hand over to anyone else thus, the songs were saved, destined to be Tania Doko’s own. So here we are, it’s 2023. Tania Doko’s first solo material in 15 years, completed. It started with the song Harder Now, a song that musically and lyrically brings you straight into the heartily core of the work. It’s hypnotic, pulsating, tribal. A current and emotional tidal wave to simply, ride, travel with you. Creating the wave The work was finished back home, in Melbourne, Australia. It was produced by Mattias Lindblom and there are some very fine musicians featuring on it. It takes a web spun, from deep devotion to the craft, to capture a moment like this. Then courage, hope and faith to step into oneself, to be genuine. This is Tania Doko, always a forward’s movement. “Out of the heart, comes everything and in the light, it’s golden” Additional Artist/Song Information: Artist Name: Tania Doko Song Title: Harder Now Publishing: Sony Music Publishing Publishing Affiliation: APRA Album Title: The Beauty’s In The Broken Record Label: The Ted Co. Record Label: The Ted Co. Fiona Gulin 61 487 992 333 [email protected] Publicity/PR: Fi Gulin [email protected] Booking Agent: Harbour Agency Australia Tony Grace 61 2 9331 5888 [email protected] Read the full article

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yuuana · 1 year ago

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youtube

Music Monday #228: VICTON - Virus release: November 2022 genre: Kpop cw: intermittent bright flashing

Yeah, I know, I've been saying I'd feature this MV for how many weeks now? Several. Like, all month. And it was supposed to come up here even before that and then didn't because reasons of my health being complete shithouse for months now. But I am determined, dangnabit! And have some things to say.

Let's just say VICTON has been Going Through It over the last couple of years. Debuting in November 2016 as a seven member unit on Plan A (later Play M) Ent, VICTON has been on a steady if not very flashy progression, releasing several singles and EPs and one OST before finally putting out a full album in 2021, then changing companies to IST in 2022. It could have been a promising new phase - IST is among the more successful of the small labels - but between Chan's DUI investigation last September (and subsequent departure from the group) and then Subin, Hanse, and Byungchan being unable to come to satisfactory contract terms this past April (due to military service requirements, Seungsik, Seungwoo, and Sejun are still on their original contracts), there's a very real chance that we've hit the end of the road. There hasn't been an official disbandment notice, but it wouldn't be unprecedented for a group to have a silent disbanding. On the other hand, the industry also has yet to pull out a success with a group whose members are signed across different labels1, so while I'm still clinging to hope as an ALICE, I know that hope is quite thin indeed.

Getting back to the song itself, Virus isn't really fast enough to be called a proper dance beat while at the same time having too many EDM elements to be properly called a ballad either. The use of flanging on the members' voices works for me, but makes this a somewhat atypical track for a group whose fandom name is an "acronym" for Always We Love the Voice. XD The rest of the EP is more straightforwardly melodic while still being in that space between dance and ballad.

Maybe because of what happened in the two months ahead of its release, the video carries a certain melancholy feel to it that may or may not actually be warranted? This also only has the five members in it which, given the usual production cycle, makes me wonder if they weren't made to take an afternoon to redo the group scenes and then the whole thing re-edited to remove Chan's participation in it. My ear isn't tuned enough to tell if they re-recorded the EP as well - I suspect not, because that could have been a potentially huge expense, depending on where in the cycle they were when he was dismissed, but I really couldn't say.

Seungwoo (who was not part of this EP) has completed his service, but Seungsik and Sejun have only just started theirs (enlistments in March and June of this year, respectively). Given the contract issue and the low level expectation that Hanse and Byungchan will start their manditory service terms next year, if they are still able to work together, another comeback is likely to be some time off yet.

"Choice" is out now wherever you like to do your Kpop streaming and likely still available for physical purchase as well. If that EP tickles your fancy, I recommend giving the rest of their discography a try as well.

1. yes, I know there are groups doing the still-together-across-labels thing, but GOT7 has done one release this way and no one else has been doing it long enough to be called a success yet, so I stand by this claim.

Want to see Music Monday deep dives more often? Sponsor a song selection! For the low, low price of one (1) KoFi, I'll write up the song of your choice. ANY song of your choice. Yes, even that one that's been played to death. Yes, your obscure faves too. With sponsors, I can stop skipping weeks and falling further and further behind in the releases! Sponsor a current CB for the next open Music Monday slot or sponsor a throwback for a Thursday feature! But seriously, if you've been enjoying my selections and analyses, we (me and the foster kittens) would love a KoFi in thanks. DW | Twitter | Mastodon | Ko-fi | Patreon | Discord | Twitch

#music #music monday #kpop #victon #in which jagu has opinions #Youtube

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blondrichclosetwitch · 2 years ago

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Real families stick together and see through the mirage

Seems it could be simple if I could just grow up

Angel wings are broken, you have not truly spoken to the ones whose pointed guns have set the sun

I could never hold you in my hands

“Switch on the TV, we may pick him up on Channel 2.”

In dark trees (“is there anything you want to say about in dark trees?” “I see you”)

Beat communication, beat connection

Refuse confusion, diffuse illusion

I know I've never lived before and my heart is very sure no one else could love you more (:38/:23)

When we’re writing all together, I’m a different kind of girl

From stage to stage we flew a drink in every hand, driveway to driveway drunk

And the names were all we knew

“What’s wrong with me?”

It’s a war scene chaos and all that ghosts and shades I can’t get it out of my mind actually

New Orleans….very strange

It’s a grotesque caricature

They call it tv talk

The real gun is in performing (autocorrect)

Let the public decide.

Welcome back to the fold, the human family embraces you

it’s cycles of nonproductiveness and intense periods of creativity

If you keep saying the same thing over and over it’s bound to get boring

“there’s no plot no story and that’s where it ends. There were four that made it, me and three others. the film took over and went in its own direction and became something a little different.”

“I hear it was really horrible.”

Money does beat soul every time

Not only that it’s a form of communication

“There will probably be a big trial I might even buy a suit to make a good impression of the judge and the jury. Maybe I’ll keep a diary of the whole thing and publish it in Esquire.”

I’ve noticed when people are joking they’re dead serious and when they’re dead serious, they’re actually pretty funny

“The government heard.”

I mean, what kind of kid were you when you were a kid?

What kind of woman would do what you did?

I cursed the gloom that set upon us, but I know that I love you so

It isn't hard to feel me glowing

Young girl side of the road baby

She sings a song and I listen to what it says

It brought peace to my mind in the summertime...

I love her I mean it’s oh so serious as serious as can be

The number 8 like pretty Kate has sex ornate, now devastate, fabricate, guilt debate, the youth irate.

I woke the same as any other day except a voice was in my head. It said, "Seize the day. Pull the trigger, drop the blade and watch the rolling heads"

Heavenly arms come to my rescue

Every finger in the room is pointing at me

My heart is sick of being in chains

Got enough girls to start my own religion (autocorrect from guilt)

I’m stiff in my tracks, trying to recover from whatever drug you used to put me under.

that murderer had his chokehold on me

Now I need you more than ever

Loneliness will blind you in between the wrong, and the right

You got your demons you got desires well, I got a few of my own

can’t tell the real from reflection

No Steel reproaches on the table from before

For rumors in the wake of such a lonely crowd, trading in my shelter for danger

“I’m changing my name. “

You just got caught in a game.

She’ll Network till her dreams come true, even if it means getting into bed with you

I’m not passing judgment on her sexual life; I’m passing judgment on the way she always stuck her knife in my back ever since we were starting out.

When there was no ear to hear you sang to me

In the book of loves own dreams, where all the print is blood, where all the pages are my days, and all my lights grow old

“Well, Janey’s got a cop who lives around the block and checks on her every night. The skin turned pale as the siren (s)he’d wail outside when (s)he knew I was inside.”

You girls mean business, and I do too.

“I’ve seen the storyline, played out so many times before.” (:9/:14)

I can change

It’s just sex and violence, Melody, and silence

One is on ones knees

Looses one head

Except maybe a… Delicious demon

Then one is no longer.

Both of them side-by-side, so determined

After you trip life opens up, You start doing what you want to do

But you know more than you thought you knew

And you're looking at the world With brand new eyes, And no one can ever spoil the view

You’ve got to open up your mind and let everything come through

nobody deserves to die but you were awful adamant*

(07/:51)

Love's the key to the things that you see

But you don't mind moving

From you, I get the story

I trip, we box up crazy bitches aiming guns in all my baby pictures

Beef with housing police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's

My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection

#baby loves a funny mummy #today is a 19/10/01 #when the minute changed:#136h 11min

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m58 · 2 years ago

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new poems from Morgan Francis

from farm gate lean listening for bleat cough bark he’d walking stick to their call make little or no remark

in snow buried days he knew where to search spade out dig in shawl foster lanolin rubbed off on him

at his funeral i had no language for the blitz of death

a theatre of hills became cemetery where men from nowhere to be seen crowded in song breach

an immaculate sky unfenced

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dear cliff when you phoned i was filling my fountain pen in bed wanted to scribble notes of a dream

something like this

heavenly golden ribbon in flow out of the top of my head streaming into all mighty wherever

thoughtlessly i gave it a couple of whacks with a silver sword thing eyes tight shut was no feeling of severance

jolting wide awake from the phone noise thing i reached for a pad to write on as well as phone and ended up with ink on my nose from wiping nib with the paper sneezing at the same time

wasn’t an important dream glad you called friday half past seven is fine

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never met her really once twice perhaps even though we grew up with in an also mile

somebody said in a pub that’s Olwen over by there

statue lovely everything about her shoulders was stillness

female pharaoh men ached to lounge about her body garden

see her at night in front of the fireplace happy as a rag mat on the kitchen floor

red cheeks anthracite aglow hairdresser curls perfect

in spite of everyone who loved her she still left early

perhaps because of them i only watched

just say to myself now and again Olwen Flowers know where she’s buried

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

day wide sleep elm trunks enormous my walk pass lost as a misunderstood city

heel drag in clueless search for your never far away

leaf prints among sound corners of beyond mislead into giddy escape i thought you lost

people made neither noise nor greeting silence led to you

stranger me at guest edge festival then a rush towards nothing and blue light

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word fruit letters into awakening as shire flow hay seed column slants hail wait silence of never cease

or pin centre still subaltern wheels pass day after day pass on cycle rest sky peel

and of my trespass say there is better keep greater than joy radiant beyond fold or fall

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baking sun bread ovens on banked straw as beauty yeasts an hour

soundless except for wind company walking every stem and ear

clay yellow fingers stream a banked direction

slippage and song silence contend in open drowse leave me here whispers

fallen stones stray as thought asleep in decibel surrender

where the plateau drops at its first edge there was a boulder punched with rows of careful now empty as diamonds

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tip fingers touch new tenderness in unfolding abode

you give such love more than can be known to kiss me home

there’s already a pile of knitwear for you to outgrow

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night silent purples glow impossible floatation i remember cave and sesame when we sat on a hill you had goodbye about you spelling heaven and earth abandon my day window sills an unlocking of yellow buttercups

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under black straw hat kindness aged hair white with faith features shining religion are you saved she demanded certain that my answer would be in step with her persuasion i was targeted for the flock

knowing my reply would disappoint yet wishing to show respect my hesitation leaned to both sides i don’t know mrs davies i mumbled i’m not sure really her features erupted red eyes bawled into my silence from a face bereaved of charity

this happened by the bus stop luckily one arrived

sorry i’ve got to go i said jumping on last to get off at the next stop down and walk back home

on that road a boy became Odysseus

Morgan Francis lives in Cardiff. His collections include: The Sun Lights and the Sun Shades, Holiness of Clay, Selected Poems and Donkey Jacket.

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fraybay · 2 years ago

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Same About You

A/N: Hello lovelies. Thank you so much for everyone who read, liked, and/or reblogged. I appreciate it! The song referenced in the title and in this chapter is Same About You by A Day To Remember.

This is Part 2, following Part 1: Little Secret

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Rockstar!OFC

Warning: Smut

*************************

Marley strummed her guitar as she watched the number of people tuning into her live rapidly grow, looking for one username in particular.

“What’s up, y’all? We’re currently traveling to our next tour stop, but everyone is either napping or watching tv in their bunks. Just thought I’d hop on live and play some songs. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten on here just to hang with y’all,” she explained. “Drop some song requests in the chat. They can be Letters from Marley songs or songs you think I might know how to play.”

Marley adjusted her phone as she read the songs people were requesting and saw the username she'd been looking for, "Oh! Also, for those of you who don't follow the band page—which you should go do after this live is over—then you might not know, but we've been writing and recording while finishing our tour for this album cycle. Fingers crossed we can get y'all new music pretty soon after this tour is done."

She picked up the capo from where it sat on the couch beside her and placed it on the third fret of her acoustic guitar as she continued, "As a treat for hanging out with me so late, I'm gonna play y'all a little snippet of a new song we're working through."

"Anyone who's ever thought of someone as a good friend and then found out they weren't, will be able to relate to this one. Its working title is "Same About You." We'll see if it stays that way if it makes the album.

Marley cleared her throat and began playing, a slight smirk adorning her face.

*************************

Having logged into her live with his private Instagram, Jack grimaced as notes began to play, “She can’t be fucking serious right now.”

Urban ran a hand through his hair, “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “We’ve known her for three years, Urban. You know she’s one of the pettiest people we’ve ever met.”

“Good point.”

Jack’s eyes became transfixed on the screen as Marley closed her eyes and began to softly sing.

Spent time today reminiscing Think I learned a lot about who we are Couldn't diagnose your condition But now I see the signs you left behind

Jack could barely swallow the lump in his throat as she opened her eyes and looked directly into the camera.

Think I lost my nerve like I lost you And the truth remains unheard

He could feel Urban shift on the couch beside him as Marley's voice developed a hard edge as she continued crooning.

No, I'll never feel the same Same about you, same about you No, I'll never feel the same Same about you, same about you

Jack felt his face heat up as the words washed over him. He had to mentally will himself to relax his jaw when he realized how hard he was clenching his teeth.

Some roads you can't come back from When you extract truth from the lie

No, I'll never feel the s—

Taking in his best friend’s tense reaction, Urban reached over and clicked to exit the live.

Jack shoved his hand away, “I was watching that.”

“I highly doubt it gets any better from that point, bro.” Urban handed him the blunt he’d been smoking, “You need this way more than I do right now.”

The rapper shook his head, "No, what I need is for her to get her shit together. She acts as if I lied about something that actually matters. I don't tell her about one song—which she's pissed about for the stupidest of reasons—and suddenly she can't trust me? It's the first time I've ever lied to her about anything. She needs to chill."

“And so do you.” Jack started to speak, but Urban kept going, “You can’t get mad at her for how she feels. The fact is that you did lie to her and she gets to decide how she feels about that. Does it mean that I would react the way she would? No. Do I think she’s overreacting? Absolutely. But you aren’t making this situation any better by acting like she doesn’t get to feel negatively about your deception. She’d probably forgive you if you would actually apologize for your whole 'better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission' approach and promise never to do it again.”

Jack tossed his phone back and forth between his hands and mulled over what Urban had just said. It didn’t take him long to realize that his best friend was right.

He unlocked his phone with a sigh and hit Neelam’s contact info. When she answered, he asked, “How soon can we clear my schedule of five full days? I have something I need to take care of in person.”

*************************

Ten days later, Jack found himself walking down a hotel hallway behind Marley’s manager, Krista.

He stuck his hands in his pockets as they headed towards Marley’s room, “Thank you so much for helping me out.”

Krista waved him off, “Don't thank me. I'm doing this for her sake. You're good to her and I'd rather she have a friends-with-benefits situation with you than one of these other shady industry dudes.” She stops at a door and turns around to hand him a room key, “If she asks, you used your fame and a whole lotta money to get into her room.”

Jack nodded with a grin, “Noted.”

“She’s in the hotel bar with a few of the other bandmates. I’ll go see if I can subtly encourage her to retire for the evening, so you won’t have to wait too long.”

“Thanks, Krista.”

Jack entered the room and shut the door behind him, placing the key card in his back pocket. He set his bag on the floor next to the couch before flopping down on it. He grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, flipping through channels until he hit ESPN. He figured he could watch the Celtics play until Marley came back to her room.

*************************

About twenty minutes passed before he heard Marley at the door. He switched off the tv and tossed the remote back on the couch. He quickly stood as the door opened and Marley walked through.

She barely glanced his way as she shut the door behind her. She eventually turned toward him with her arms crossed and murmured, “Hey.”

Jack returned her greeting and took in the lack of surprise in her demeanor at his presence, “You knew I was here.”

“I'd asked Riley and Tor to come hang out since I didn't want to be alone,” she began to explain with a shrug. “Krista couldn't come up with a lie fast enough but thanks for using my own team against me.”

He bristled at her response, “Against you? You make it sound like we're enemies. Marley, ca—“

She held up a hand to cut him off, “If we have to have this conversation, I'm going to be comfortable. I've been doing interviews all day. I'm going to change clothes. I'll be back out. “

Marley made her way to her bedroom and closed the door. Jack sat back down on the couch. He leaned back, his head resting on the couch. Marley emerged from her bedroom in biker shorts and a tank top. Jack turned his head to the side to look at her when she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

As Marley curled her legs underneath herself, Jack cleared his throat and said, “I caught your live the other night.”

She scoffed, “I know. You forget I know what your finsta is?”

“No, but there were thousands of people watching. Wasn't sure if you noticed.”

“Well, now you know I saw.” She toyed with one of her braids as she asked, “Is that what you flew all the way here for or is there something else?”

Jack could feel his skin heating up. His eyes met hers as he demanded, “You really don't think I'm a good friend to you? And feel strongly enough about it that you wrote a song to tell thousands of your followers about it?”

“Don't worry, Jack.” Marley flippantly replied. “None of them know it’s about you. I mean that’s the justification you told me about Lil Secret, right?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a few seconds before exhaling. When he finally responded, he attempted to keep his tone even, “You haven't responded to me in almost two months. Everything I know about what you've got going on comes from your socials or Urban. You don't think that's a little dramatic over a throwaway line in a song?”

“Says the man who cleared his schedule to come chase after me for five days because I hurt his feelings on live?" Surprise leaped across Jack's face and Marley sneered, "Yeah, Krista told me your whole itinerary, not just that you were here.”

Jack set up and rested his head in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. Uncomfortable silence wrapped around the pair as they both waited for the other person to speak. The minutes seemed to creep by at a glacial pace and it was enough to cause Jack to break first.

“Fine.” The rapper ran a hand over his beard, “You want me to admit the real reason I didn't play the song for you?”

“I'm all ears.”

“When I recorded it, literally all of PG told me they hoped I wasn't super attached to it because there was no way you'd allow it on the album,” he began to explain.

Marley crossed her arms and interjected, “They weren't wrong.”

“No, they weren't,” Jack acquiesced. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes as he continued, “Which pissed me off because I realized that if you asked, I wouldn't hesitate to pull it.”

“It’s a bad thing that you would consider my feelings?” Marley questioned as she sat up a little straighter.

“It’s not that.” A frustrated sigh fell from his lips as he wrestled with himself on how best to phrase what he was trying to say. He glanced over at the singer, “If I had written that song about any other girl, I wouldn't have hesitated to play it for them because whether they liked it or not, I'd be putting it on the album. I'd just buy them something stupid expensive and they'd get over it.”

“You realize that says more about you than the type of women you recruit for your harem,” Marley deadpanned.

“Marley,” Jack scolded, and she motioned for him to continue. Marley had to strain to hear him as he looked back down at the ground and murmured, “I really hate the fact that you have so much influence over me that I'd yank a song just to please you and that everyone who knows about us knows it.”

Marley's breath caught in her throat. Over the three years, they'd known one another, she could count on one hand the number of times he’d gotten this vulnerable with her.

She shifted closer to him and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, “Jack, wh—”

“Don’t,” he shook her hand off his shoulder he admonished through gritted teeth, “Just…don't. I know that's a conversation we're going to have to have, but I'd really appreciate it if we could just hold off on it for a little bit."

Marley remained silent as she waited for some of the tension to leave Jack’s body. After a few moments of deep breathing, his shoulders relaxed, and Marley took that as a sign that her next move wouldn’t be rejected.

She stood and maneuvered so she was in front of him. When he looked up at her, she gently pushed his shoulders until he was leaning back against the couch. She slowly moved to straddle his lap.

She gently caressed his face as she gently explained, “The reason it hurt my feelings so much is that you've been such a good friend to me and you lying to me and being dismissive of my feelings was so out of character.” She wound one of his curls around her finger and sighed, “I know you pride yourself on how loyal you are to your friends so I wrote something that I knew would hurt you because I wanted you to feel how I felt.”

“Congratulations,” He reached up to disentangle her fingers from his hair and kissed the palm of her hand, “You succeeded.”

“Weeeeeeell,” she drew out, “as a certain someone often likes to remind me when I start to doubt it...I'm very good at what I do.”

Feeling the tension start to dissipate from the room, Jack gave her a small grin, “Sounds like a very wise man.”

“Eh, he can be,” Marley agreed with a shrug. “But I'd never tell him that. His ego is already off the charts. I'd hate to give him more ammunition.”

He laughed as he ran his hands up her back and nudged her forward. She leaned her forehead against his, both closing their eyes.

Marley could feel his breath fan over her face as he whispered, “Am I forgiven Marley girl?”

She leaned back and he opened his eyes. She met his gaze as she answered, tone absent of any of the edge she'd begun the conversation with, "I don't think I actually got an apology, Jack.”

Jack cupped her face in his hands as he responded in earnest, “I’m sorry that I lied to you instead of talking to you about it like an adult.

“Apology accepted.”

Marley reached up to grab his hands and moved them, so they were situated on her waist. She wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and bent down to kiss him.

As soon as her lips brushed against his, Jack moved to deepen the kiss, running his tongue along her lips and she opened to allow him access. Marley moaned into his mouth as Jack’s large hands held a tight grip on her hips and moved her so she was grinding down against his erection.

Jack broke the kiss and kissed a trail of opened-mouth kisses along her jaw until he was able to lowly growl in her ear, "Can't tell you how much I missed that sound.”

His words went straight to her core and she panted out, “Bedroom. Now.”

“Nah,” Jack shook his head and ran a hand along her spine, “*It’s been long enough. I'm fucking you right here.”

“Jack...”

“Baby, clearly, you’ve forgotten who runs this show. You can either take these off yourself,” he slapped her ass and then popped the band of her biker shorts, “or I'm ripping them. Either way, we're not leaving this couch until you can’t walk.”

She knew from experience that he wasn’t joking and quickly scrambled off his lap to pull off her shorts while he pushed down his sweatpants. She moved to reclaim her spot in his lap, but Jack guided her to lay back down on the couch as he settled in between her thighs. His hands ghosted across her skin to grab her hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Jack’s thumbs moved along her brown skin in slow, small circles. His eyes met Marley and he grinned, “Tell me, Marley girl, all that time you spent ignoring me, was I still on your mind when you were all alone in your bed by yourself.”

She shuddered as his voice washed over her, “Yes. Thought about you so much.”

He nodded and leaned over her, resting one hand beside her head as the other pushed her legs further apart, "Mmm. And while you were thinking of me, what exactly were you thinking of?”

The singer reached down and grabbed Jack’s hand that was resting along her thigh and guided him to where she wanted his touch the most.

“I thought about you he-…” Marley stopped short as Jack began to circle her clit with his fingers.

He heard her breath hitch and watched her eyes flutter closed. He lowly chuckled, “You were saying?”

She attempted to lobby back a retort to his teasing, but Jack slid his fingers through her lips and plunged two inside of her causing a strangled moan to roll off her tongue as she arched her back.

Jack leaned forward and captured her lips in a heated kiss as he began to pump his fingers inside of her at a steady pace. Marley tightly gripped Jack’s shirt as she could feel a familiar coil building in the pit of her stomach. She wrenched her lips away from his as a steady chorus of whines came rapidly tumbling out of her mouth.

The way Marley turned her head placed Jack’s lips right near her ear and, knowing she was close based off of how she was clenching around his fingers, he murmured in her ear, “When you touched yourself, Marley girl, and pretended it was me, whose name was on those pretty lips of yours as you came?”

“Yo…yo…yours, baby,” she hissed.

“Show me,” he demanded as he stilled his fingers, “Show me how you got off without me.”

Marley didn't miss a beat and began rolling her hips against his fingers. She pushed up her tank top and began to massage one of her breasts. Jack bent his head down to take the other breast into his mouth, nipping and sucking just hard enough that he knew there'd still be a mark in the morning.

Her gyrations sped up and she felt the tension begin to build, “I’m so…so close, Jaaaack.”

“Go ahead, Marley girl. Fall apart on my fingers,” he groaned out.

Marley moved one of her hands down to circle her clit as Jack continued to whisper praises in her ear while urging her to be greedy and take exactly what she needed from him. Her eyes slammed shut and she screamed out his name as her orgasm broke.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, she watched as he removed his fingers from inside her and licked them clean. If she hadn’t been trying to recover from her orgasm, Marley would have found the filthy moan, that spilled out as he tasted her on his fingers, embarrassing.

Jack pulls back to take in the sight of the woman lying before him. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her brown skin practically glowing, and her legs still slightly shaking. He maneuvered himself so he was resting on his forearms on either side of her head. He crashes his lips into hers and Marley can’t help the sob that she breathed into his mouth.

He reached in between them and lined himself up at her entrance. He thrust into her, quickly bottoming out. He stilled, giving her time to adjust before he began to pump his hips, setting a hard and deep rhythm.

He buried his head in the crook of his neck and Marley gripped his arms hard enough for her fingernails to leave indentations. As good as she feels gripping him, Jack knows he isn’t going to last too much longer but he is dead set on making sure she comes again before he does.

“I think you’ve got another one in you, yeah?” He bit the crook of her neck before lapping at his with his tongue to soothe the sting. He reached down and wrapped one of her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper, “You gonna cum for me again?”

She tried to pant out an answer but felt her mouth run dry as Jack reached in between them and started circling her clit. All it took was a few passes before Marley’s legs began to shake and a stifled whine erupted from her chest. Jack sped up his pace and Marley felt tears prick her eyes as bright lights flashed behind her eyelids and warmth rapidly spread along her body.

The rapper pulled back slightly as he slowed down to a more languid pace. He ran a hand up her body until he placed a hand around her throat, squeezing just hard enough for her to feel its presence but not restrict her airflow.

“Tell me who’s making you feel this good, Marley girl,” he demanded.

Still attempting to recover from her orgasm, a few moments passed without Marley answering and he slapped her thigh

“I asked you a question.” Jack squeezed the hand around her throat to grab her attention, “Answer me, pretty girl. Who is making you feel this good?”

“Y..you, Jack,” she ground out, “Ooonly you.”

Marley grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him back down to her, capturing him in a long, slow kiss.

He lunged into her a few more times before he came with a groan that Marley swallowed in another kiss. He stayed on top of her, mindful of resting most of his upper body weight on his forearms instead of her. Marley ran her hands up and down his back as Jack tried to get his breathing under control.

After a few moments, he gave Marley a peck on the lips before he gingerly disentangled himself from her. Marley started to stand, but Jack shook his head at her and motioned for her to stay laying down.

“Be right back,” he told her and kissed the top of her head before he headed toward her bedroom.

Marley felt a small smile work its way across her face as she heard the water running. After several minutes passed, he returned to the living room area of the suite. He scooped Marley up into his arms and carried her to the bath that he'd run for both of them. He helped Marley into the tub before he slid in behind her.

“This just barely fits both of us,” she giggled.

“But it does fit us. Just barely is all we need,” he retorted as he moved her hair over her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck.

Marley leaned back against his chest and melted into his arms as they reached around to envelop him.

“Thank you for clearing your schedule to be here. I know that isn’t an easy thing nowadays,” she stated softly as she intertwined her fingers with his.

“Eh, the way I see it, I’m the one that screwed us out of two weeks in LA by being an idiot and not giving you a real apology so the least I could do is move things around to make it right,” he replied.

She turned her head to look at him, “So…you’re still staying the full five days even though we’re good now?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged and smirked at her, “I was expecting more of a fight. I might be able to put a few interviews back on the table.”

“Oh really,” Marley rose an amused eyebrow at him, “Then I’m still angry. You’re the worst and you can’t be trusted and the beat wasn’t even that good and that chorus was lackluster and I c-“

He laughed as she rambled and then pulled her into a kiss to shut her up.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x black ofc #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x original black female character #jack harlow smut

76 notes · View notes

444tsumu · 4 years ago

Text

title Not His Type

rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content

word count 4,800+

warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks

author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*

summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“How could someone be such a bitch?”

“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”

There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.

No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.

His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.

To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.

With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”

The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.

“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”

“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.

“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”

You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.

“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”

“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”

“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.

You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.

With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.

He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.

Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.

Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.

“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.

“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.

“Hey, what the fu—”

“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.

“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.

“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”

“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.

“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”

Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…

“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”

The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.

“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.

“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.

Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.

“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”

Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.

“Wanna try me?”

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.

The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.

His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.

“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.

Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.

Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.

You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.

Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.

Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.

You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.

Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’

Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.

He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.

Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.

“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.

His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.

Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.

You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.

And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.

He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.

Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.

“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.

You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.

“Fuck my throat.”

The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.

His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”

The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.

Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.

He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that.

“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”

Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.

“That was...”

“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.

It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.

“Never in a million years.”

His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.

It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.

“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.

“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.

He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.

His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.

“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.

“Mm, what else baby?”

Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.

The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.

“Fuck, Issei…” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”

You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.

The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.

“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”

Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.

“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.

“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”

His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.

It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.

You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.

“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”

Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.

“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.

“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”

The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.

“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.

Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.

No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.

“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.

The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.

The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.

“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.

“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.

He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.

“You’re not really my type.”

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tisthenightofthewitch · 3 years ago

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Tobias Forge looks into the bright future of Ghost with measured confidence

WORDS BY AL BELLING AND PHOTOGRAPHY BY MIKAEL ERIKSSON

2022 is officially the of our unholy lord Papa Emeritus the IV, the newest incarnation of Ghost frontman Tobias Forge’s alter-ego

Of course, a new Papa Emeritus means a new Ghost album, which is exactly what the world will receive next month with the release of Impera, the fifth LP from the Swedish metal masters who have gone from (oc)cult following status to arena-filling superstars in less than a decade.

Such is the fervour around Ghost that the band has been able to change their style, sound, and image to greater and greater critical acclaim, with an O2 Arena date in London the first of what is sure to be many milestones on this new album cycle.

“Of course, we’re aware that these songs are going to be played in front of a lot of people – we very much had to think of how much these songs will play out in a big boomy hall,” says Forge, who is chatting to us from Denver, Colorado where the band is currently engaged in some pre-album dates.

“We’ve had people afraid to come to the show, and then also people who refuse to get vaccinated who stand outside the venue because they’re not allowed to come in,” laughs Forge, who sounds stunned that, despite the album not being out, “a few thousand” people are still coming to each show.

The tour has been revelatory for Ghost fans, with Forge’s backing band – known as the ‘nameless ghouls’ – debuting a brand new-look, a cyberpunk aesthetic, while new singles ‘Call Me Little Miss Sunshine’ and ‘Hunter’s Moon’ have been getting their live debuts.

“The people seem to be really happy about it,” he says, but notes a catch – “every time we start a tour, an album cycle, there’s this tremendous amount of fucking push back. Always, always, always.”

Forge is referring to the polarisation around their success, criticism has followed Ghost’s footsteps, ranging from black metal purists to magazine buying mega-fans, turned off by the commercial appeal of the band’s poppy song-craft which channels the spirit of Blue Oyster Cult as opposed to Darkthrone.

“We get a tonne of shit because people miss what we used to do, and then in a few years they’ll miss what we’re doing now.”

“It ends up being the new black anyway – people have to deal with it,” says Forge of the band’s style.

“We get a tonne of shit because people miss what we used to do, and then in a few years they’ll miss what we’re doing now.”

Forge notes that he sees that polarisation around him on the road as well, regardless of what the issue is.

“We’ve had lots of confusion and mixed messages in the world at the moment around dangers and safety, and on the one hand, you have people who are quite anxious for their safety.

“Then on the other side you have those folks who refuse to get vaccinated, they’re all standing outside the venue ‘cos they can’t come in – given the circumstances though, the tour is going really well.”

It’s this polarisation that Forge notes sets this new album cycle apart, with Impera representing a time of contentment in his life as he watches the world around him capitulate.

“One major difference between this new record and Prequelle is that I was personally in a very wounded state when I wrote Prequelle – I was very wounded and felt attacked, but the world felt like a more stable place.

“Making Impera, the roles were almost completely switched. I felt really content and good with life, but everything around us has fallen out.

“I got the idea to write an album about the concept of empires rising back in 2014 – but I also wanted to first write an album about the plague which was Prequelle, which was written from an ‘I, a mortal and single human being am being attacked by force.’ Impera is exploring the wellbeing of society.

“At the end of the day though, I just want to write songs that are cool and make you feel good – thematic ideas can just be a way to tie together a bunch of different songs that ultimately are for enjoyment.

“I just want to help people shake their asses – or foreheads- or both!”

The danceability of Ghost has been a major trump card for the band, with their satanic Vatican image juxtaposed by bluesy rock riffs and disco-infused pop-rock goodness.

As Forge points out, their success is representative of metal entering a point that rewards bands for going against the grain, noting that it’s something “very close to (his) heart”.

“I always felt proud that when we came out, we had a brief invite into the occult rock thing that was happening at that time, and as soon as things started to move for us we were out of that quickly…we started playing with lots of other bands,” he recalls.

“Once we started touring I felt very alienated because at that point, all these ‘core’ bands with a sentence for a name – they were the shit!

“I envied the massive amount of opportunities they had because they were all new, current, same age…I’ve always felt like the odd kid…I felt we stuck out like a sore thumb.”

This point of difference has set the band apart from the ever-increasing glut of hyped metal acts, with their last record Prequelle taking the band to the precipice of ‘mainstream’ fame.

However, while Forge is quietly confident of the strength of the record, he remains cautious when it comes to attempting to replicate the crossover appeal of Prequelle.

“You should be cognisant of those things but within the limits of writing a good record that expresses what you feel,” he says.

“Back when we wrote ‘Dance Macabre’ for the last record it felt very immediate – same with ‘Square Hammer’.

“But all the time you’ll think ‘this could do this, this could open this potential door’ – but you just have no idea.”

“If you write a record that really fulfils where you’re at, and someone walks in and says ‘I don’t hear a hit… well maybe that record doesn’t need a hit.

“Commercially, I dare to say that anyone that has experienced any commercial success at all – they know when you write something you can think to yourself ‘this could be a good song to pitch for radio.’

“I had that sense with a few songs here, thinking ‘this could benefit from not being seven minutes long – maybe we should trim it down. You shoot yourself in the foot if you don’t have that sort of radar operating.

“But for every song you have that’s successful, you have ones that you think will open heaps of doors but it might never happen – ‘He Is’ for example, America never went for it, but in Europe, it charted on normal radio!”

Despite Forge’s caution, the stage is set for a massive 2022 for the band, with concert markets reopening and a fanbase eager to install Ghost on the throne of contemporary metal.

And that, Forge concedes, is a reason to smile.

“We’re in the restaurant business – it’s great and it’s fun, but if you get a Michelin star, that’s fantastic…it doesn’t define who you are or what you’re doing, but it really helps.”

MIXDOWN

#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Papa IV

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samarpantrustindia · 3 days ago

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From Streets to Classrooms: A Journey of Hope with Samarpan Trust

As I was driving down the familiar dusty road towards Samarpan, the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the village. The narrow lane, framed by modest homes and patches of wildflowers, hummed with the sounds of life—children laughing, street vendors calling out their wares, and the distant clank of pots from a nearby tea stall.

Ahead, I noticed a group of children walking in a tight-knit cluster. Their uniforms, although a little worn, were proudly worn symbols of a new chapter in their lives. These were our students from the free school run by Samarpan. With books clutched to their chests and backpacks bouncing with each step, their eyes sparkled with the joy of learning and the anticipation of the future. They waved eagerly as they recognized my car, their voices shouting greetings that carried hope and innocence.

As I slowed down to greet them, my heart swelled with pride. These were children who, not long ago, had little to look forward to but days spent wandering the streets or laboring for scraps. Now, they were students—dreamers with the promise of change in their hands.

Just as the laughter of the students faded behind me, I noticed another group moving in the opposite direction. They were younger, barefoot, and their clothes were tattered. Their eyes, dark and wary, glanced at my car for just a moment before flicking back to the ground. These were child rag pickers, their tiny hands clutching plastic bags bulging with discarded bottles, bits of paper, and whatever else they could scavenge to make a few rupees to take home.

The contrast struck me like a blow. These children, so close in age to our students, were living a starkly different reality. While our students carried books and talked about their school projects and dreams of becoming doctors, teachers, or engineers, the rag pickers carried burdens far beyond their years, dreams buried under the weight of survival.

I pulled over and watched them for a moment longer, feeling the familiar stirrings of urgency and purpose. This was why Samarpan existed—not just as a school, but as a beacon of hope, a place where childhoods were reclaimed, and dreams were born anew. Through our girls’ education program, mid-day meals, and holistic care, we were bringing children off the streets and into the fold of opportunity.

At Samarpan, we believed that education was more than learning to read or write—it was the key that unlocked potential and broke cycles of poverty. It was a shield that protected against exploitation and a guide that lit the way forward.

I turned back to see the rag pickers disappearing into the maze of alleys. There was still so much work to be done, so many lives waiting for a second chance. As I drove away, the voices of our students still rang in my ears—a song of hope that promised that, one day, no child would have to walk the streets burdened by the past. They would be walking towards a brighter future, hand-in-hand with Samarpan, as children should.

#education #india #social justice #social welfare #ngo in delhi #ngo #ngoimpact #free education #accesstoeducation #acessibility #nutrition #midday meal program

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andrea-lyn · 3 years ago

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The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there!

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend.

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way

Sundering by romancandles

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies ([email protected])

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

(TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends.

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

#recs #fic recs #recs project #star trek recs #inception recs #the raven cycle recs #the old guard recs #roswell new mexico recs

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nemotakeit · 3 years ago

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SO,

I saw a popular(probably) theory that SAI might be the prequel to Trench or at least contains story elements that precede the narrative of Trench, and I think it's true at this point. Now I'd like to expand on that.

Everything has been going in reverse since the start of Trench (HENCE all the reversed parts in its songs UH HELLO) and now we get a certain starting point: the beginning of Banditos. The photos we got for The Outside mv likely indicate that. The torch Josh is holding is pre-Trench and I think this beach is where they washed up ashore on the continent of Trench (based on the new map).

The cycle was first introduced in that one HDS cycle vid - Trench showed us the cycle. The album wasn't the happiest but it still left us with a prospect of leaving the city—leaving the cycle which is mentioned explicitly in Shy Away ("break the cycle in half"). Even how the boys stood in the wrong order for promo pics during the first half of the SAI era is about things unfolding in reverse !! Now, they stand in the correct order, meaning we finally got to the beginning and that the cycle will be broken in half while the story unravels in the correct order.

Trench was about challenging Vialism by fighting back. But because, as Tyler said, Trench is an in-between place where no one knows where the road will lead them, it didn't suggest a definitive finale. At first glance, SAI is a terribly bleak album filled with propaganda. Then we get a twist in the story now! We're standing on the bridge to the next era. I still think we're in for an even bleaker ride because of all the grim implications we saw at the end of the Takeover Tour and also the Icy Tour being all blue. Well they say the hour before daybreak is the darkest.

As I'm writing this I realize that this newly uncovered part of the lore might also be a part of the cycle (they escape from the Saturday submarine=>they become Banditos=>Tyler gets taken=>rescue mission=>Tyler gets snatched again=>Saturday=>beach=>repeat), but I think even the introduction of this segment may indicate a fissure in the loop DEMA has been so carefully maintaining. I adhere to the speculation that the next album, starting with the last (I strongly believe) mv of SAI, will finally guide us through the story in a linear fashion until it provides closure. Personally, I don't think tøp is gonna throw us a completely happy ending because well...that's how Tyler is lol But we'll still see an optimistic ending, I hope!

And of course I might be utterly wrong about everything lmao

#this became a full on essay HAHA #i'm theorizing so hard in class help #tøp #twenty one pilots #clique #scaled and icy #trench #nemotakeit

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gay-ghosts-committing-crimes · 4 years ago

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Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

based off of this post by @ificouldtakeusback

AO3 link

Warnings: death and grief, bee mention

Summary: Bobby deals with losing Sunset Curve <3

Writing taglist (ask to be added or removed): @barrel-of-cat-mituna @completekeefitztrash @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @lemontarto @hershis-kotlc @genesiscaveat @everything-else-and-mars @juline-dizznee @chaotic-basics @an-absolute-travesty @classyfunnyquotesmuffin7 @smolanxiouscatvoids @itstiger720 @introvertedscarecrow @sunset-telepath @an-idiot-in-a-trenchcoat @cowboypossume @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @sofia-not-sophie @fire-sapphics @dr-alan-grant @real-smooth @juline-dizznee

“There’s a grief that can’t be spoken There’s a pain goes on and on Empty chairs at empty tables Now my friends are dead and gone”

The morning arrived like a man condemned to death, slow-plodding and weighed down by guilt... by grief. The night before had been a swirl of energy; the energy of playing The Orpheum, the energy of being together, about to succeed, on the edge of everything they’d dreamed of. And then... the anxious energy and sick-to-the-stomach feeling of knowing something’s not right. A panicked rush to find his bandmates, his friends, because they were about to go on but they weren’t there, they weren’t there and something wasn’t right, something wasn’t-

Then came the sirens. The red and blue lights. The churning in his stomach became a cold stone.

But now Bobby sat alone, the morning sun streaming in like a memorial to the light in their eyes before it was snuffed out, and he didn’t have energy. He didn’t have the energy to feel anymore, he was exhausted.

He reached up to scrub at his face, wiping away tears that had long stopped falling, eyes dry and scratchy from crying until 3 a.m. and not sleeping at all. He wished he could sleep. He wished he could close his eyes and see something other than the bodies of his friends, something other than the way they had died in each others arms, wished he could think about anything other than the fact that he’d never hug them again or play music with them until his fingers bled and his throat was hoarse and his face sore from smiling.

He just sat. Alone. Exhausted.

The garage-made-studio was silent around him, and he longed to scream. Scream because he was never getting them back, scream because he was hurting, scream scream scream because the studio wasn’t meant to be quiet. It was meant to be filled with life and sound and four boys who loved each other in a way their ‘real’ families never would, playing music and goofing off and being together. It wasn’t meant for a single boy too tired to even cry anymore.

“Here they talked of revolution Here it was they lit the flame Here they sang about tomorrow And tomorrow never came

From the table in the corner They could see a world reborn And they rose with voices ringing And I can hear them now!”

Bobby grabbed another box and shoved on top of one he had already stacked, angry tears burning behind his eyes. He hated this room and he hated this garage and he hated that he was alive and his friends were dead and he hated the fact that he was expected to be okay.

Because he wasn’t. He wasn’t okay and he had watched his friends take their last breaths and maybe if he was there sooner they would be alive, but it didn’t matter because they were gone and he wasn’t okay.

He grabbed another box and choked back a sob, anger and guilt and mourning caught and tangled in his chest like a swarm of bees swarming in his lungs until he felt suffocated and smothered. He tripped over a box and bit back a scream, choosing instead to kick at the box before falling to his knees. He couldn’t do this. He was just a kid, and he couldn’t do this.

The tears fell, hot and messy and his voice was choked and gasping, nose snotty and eyes red. Was it less than a week ago that the four of them had stood, side by side, in this very place? Singing and laughing together because they were doing it, they were finally making their place in the world! They were going to turn the music industry on its head and become something.

Bobby remembered how it had started; he and Reggie were the first to meet. They learned guitar together, they sung and played and thought ‘maybe this could be something’. And then Luke came with his voice and guitar and it was something. It was incredible and it was new and they found a place that could be their own and they claimed it for themselves, claimed it for who they were and who they were going to be. And then Alex... Alex with his anxious hands and killer drums came along and suddenly Bobby had a family again.

He remembered the late evenings of lukewarm pizza and song-writing challenges and four boys who were in love with music. It was freedom and it was flying and it was loving and being loved for who you were and not because you were what people wanted from you. It was four boys singing their hearts out. Singing their lives. Their hopes.

They had sung about their future, and now they didn’t even have one.

“The very words that they had sung Became their last communion On this lonely barricade At dawn

Oh my friends, my friends forgive me That I live and you are gone There's a grief that can't be spoken There's a pain goes on and on”

Bobby thrashed, sweat dripping down his face and his eyes flew open, chest heaving and heart racing. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face, sighing when he realized he was too tightly wound to go back to sleep. Reluctantly, he got out of bed, tugging on a light sweatshirt and grabbing his guitar before slipping out of his room and heading out.

The night air was muggy and thick, but chilly enough that he was glad he remembered to put something on over his t-shirt. The walk to their... his studio was mostly quiet save for the rare passing of cars, and he let himself get lost in the way the stop-lights reflected in the water on the road, a broken and distorted portrayal of their mirror image. It’s like him, he thinks, and wishes he wasn’t a seventeen year-old boy who had to think of things in terms of ‘Before’ and ‘After’.

He finally got to the studio and slammed the door behind him. It wasn’t like he was going to be quiet when he practiced anyway.

The music started soft. Started gentle and intriguing, and then began to harden, to twist into something loud and broken. It was jagged and hurting and Bobby sang till his throat was dry, like maybe if he sang hard enough they would come back, like maybe if he ruined his voice he wouldn’t have to live with what his best friends had died for, like maybe the universe would bend its uncaring ear and hear him, hear his grief and anger and grant him some semblance of peace, something like an ending.

He played for hours, the pads of his fingers sore, his voice choked and strained from yelling the lyrics, but he kept on. He kept on because when he played it was like the ghosts of them stayed behind to listen.

Luke would be grinning from somewhere beside him, hands moving deftly over his own guitar, Reggie beside him getting flustered when Bobby winked and then playing an incredible riff despite it, and Alex behind them, his hands playing magic on his set, smile wide as he enjoyed the music. And Bobby.

Bobby strumming and looking at his bandmates and maybe it hurt worse when it was all over, losing them again and again every time he stopped playing, but for that brief moment his friends were back and he wasn’t the lonely teenager in an empty garage with only a few boxes around him to remind him of what is was like to have a home in other people. For a brief moment he was ‘Bobbers’ and ‘Bobbins’ and he was winning a tickle fight with Reggie and getting his hair floofed by Luke, for a brief moment he stopped being ‘Bobby, the boy who lost his best friends and bandmates at age seventeen’ and was ‘Bobby, who was getting chided by Alex for putting his stuff everywhere’.

For a brief moment he wasn’t grieving the only people who really knew what it was like to love him.

“Phantom faces at the window Phantom shadows on the floor Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will meet no more

Oh my friends, my friends Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will sing no more”

Bobby got older and changed his name. He didn’t want to be the boy that lost his friends, the boy left behind, so he became Trevor, a man who wasn’t brokenhearted.

It didn’t stop him from being brokenhearted though.

He still saw them in everything, and it wasn’t fair. He’d go to the beach to stare at the water only to jerk his head around when he heard Reggie’s laughter. He’d go to a café but when he’d sit down he’d see Alex drumming his fingers on the table, waiting to order, hear Luke rambling excitedly about a new song he was working on.

The boys may have been dead, but he’d never escape their memory.

He could shove it down as hard as he could, but in the end he’d turn around a corner and catch a glimpse of Reggie walking by, he’d be in the grocery store and overhear Alex sassing Luke. It was a never-ending cycle of shock, hope, and then crushing sadness, because it was never them and it never would be.

The beach was always silent, and the chairs were always empty.

Bobby was alone.

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