#twin reverb

[benjamindehli]

Fender Rhodes - Amp Comparison Comparing different amplifiers for the Fender Rhodes electric piano. The direct signal from the Rhodes is recorded once and then sent through the different amplifiers with a re-amp box. Instrument: - Rhodes Mark I Stage Piano Amplifiers: - Fender Twin Reverb - Roland JC-120 - Vox AC15H1TV - Tandberg Model 2 T (TB2) - Leslie 122 Microphones: - Shure SM57 - Royer R-121 - Sennheiser e 602-II (for lower rotor on Leslie) Signal chain: - Rhodes with Avion Studios RetroFlyer Preamp - Universal Audio Apollo - Hairball Audio FET/RACK Revision D - Radial X-Amp into amplifier (except for direct out example) - Chase Bliss Audio & Meris CXM 1978 (almost inaudible, just adds some "air" and stereo width) - DIYRE G Bus VCA Compressor RetroFlyer Preamp settings: - High pass filter in middle position (60 Hz) - Mid boost/cut just below middle position - Stereo tremolo is turned off (until the very end of each example)

[dmvmadness]

Give "The Winery Dogs Live in Santiago" a shot today... Enjoy 🎸

[girldickdotcom]

the fact kurt cobain, jonny greenwood, thom yorke, thurston moore, kim gordon, brian molko, j mascis, AND james dean bradford all used the same amp i just ordered. the 90s alternative amp...

[daddysmusicblog]

Please leave the title of the song and the artist in the comments if you recognize it.

[michelristenpattsworld]

Found Back

Hidden behind a lesly amp..

Not a real cat 😂 But a good substitute for the time being. Now he has a better spot, the Fender Twin amp👍

[intertexts-moving]

unfortunately i am autistic all the time ab shoegaze & gothic & dreampop god bless <333

[yhancik]

Released November 12, 1984, Treasure is a truly gorgeous album that sounded like nothing else at the time, with Fraser’s multi-octave range spiraling skyward, intertwined with Guthrie’s celestial fretwork. Brian Eno was actually approached to produce but — according to 4AD’s Ivo Watts-Russell — told the band, “I’m really flattered that you’ve asked, but I’d never have had the courage to use the size of reverb that you used on Head Over Heels!” and suggested they do it themselves. Which they did with fantastic results.

— https://www.brooklynvegan.com/cocteau-twins-gauzy-gothy-treasure-turns-40/

(via)

[bestdjwith2turntables]

Soundcheck... well, we need fresh tubes !

[guitarbomb]

Foxgear 100W Series - 100W MiniAmps in pedal format

Foxgear 100W Series is a line of pedal-sized guitar amplifiers. These compact powerhouses, retailing at $249 each, pack a punch with 100 watts of output power, making them a game-changer in the realm of musical equipment. Foxgear 100W Series The Foxgear 100W Series introduces four distinct models, each meticulously designed to replicate the iconic sounds of legendary rock amplifiers. Allowing…

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day.

***

The door slammed shut, making you jump and bump against the edge of the counter that you stood at before the sink, finishing up a few stray dishes that had been left from the night before. You turned to see Simon standing there in the doorway, stiff as a goddamn board with only his eyes clocking the room to find you and locking on to your form like a beast ready to pounce.

"Pants off...now," he demanded, his voice metered and firm as he removed the mask covering his features.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled as you crossed your arms over your chest, but he was not in a picking mood. "What's up?"

He took a calming breath; it wasn't your fault his mood had been soured today and he didn't need to upset the only person that could turn this all around. "It's been a fuckin' day, luv. Need something to take the edge off before I send someone to the goddamn morgue. So, again, pants off…please."

This wasn't the first time you'd encountered this specific Simon before; his short, gruff sentences were an obvious indication that he has had an absolutely rotten fucking day and was completely over it already. And because this wasn't your first time you knew what he wanted…

…what he needed to let all that stress go.

Slowly you undid the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper before slipping your hands inside the waistband and sliding your jeans down off your legs. Once you removed them from around your ankles you tossed them to the side and stood there in your panties and tank top, waiting for him to give you your next instruction. Like a flash he moved in and was now on top of you, enveloping you entirely with his hulking form as it fit against your curves until your backside was being indented by the edge of the countertop.

Hot, hungry lips scrambled to aggressively connect with your own, fighting for dominance as the back and forth of the dance continued with each passing second. He let himself go to become consumed by you, unable to find a pause to take a breath as he all but devoured you whole until there was nothing left in his mind but you.

Those large hands with their thick, rough digits pawed desperately at the warm, soft skin of your bare hips, grasping as much meat between them that they could hold. All those curves, all the smooth, voluptuous flesh ready to be caressed, it was enough to drive him insane; how fucking lucky he was to have it all at his disposal now to help cure his bad day?

God you were a fucking feast and he was starving.

The connection between your lips was broken sloppily and with haste, a sting of spittle connecting your lips sparkling in the light as he pulled away. Simon hurriedly grabbed the hem of your tank top and ripped it up and over your head, letting your breasts drop and jiggle with the reverb as they were set from their cage.

"Fuck," he groaned under his breath with a sharp inhale through his teeth as he latched those lips back on to your own. "That's a sight that could do me in."

On the move he leaned his tall head lower as those raw lips began to explore further down along the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and finally coming to those beautiful breasts which he immediately sucked into his mouth. The suction was intense as he used the very tip of his tongue to circle those perky rosebuds until he felt them stiffen against the roof of his mouth and your body twitch from the tingly feeling it gave off that shot up your spine.

Whatever you were doing before this felt like a distant memory as his attention grew your arousal so that your body responded in kind to him just the way he wanted. He switched sides on your chest, not wanting the first breasts twin on the other side to get left out. Simon only moved on after your hips began to grind against the bulge growing at the front of his pants.

His lips continued down the line of your body as he knelt to the ground before you, ready to put everything into worshiping that sweet pussy he loved so goddamn much. Over your sternum and stomach all the way down to your pelvis his lips caressed until they reached a roadblock covering those last few inches to his destination. That was quickly dealt with as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties to slide them down your thighs, letting his lips keep going all the way to the mound of your sex; only then did he pause.

"Spread," he demanded again as his hands tapped at your inner thighs, his message being short and sweet and to the point. "I'm fuckin' endin' this day on a high note. I'm not stopping' till I'm on the goddamn verge of death by suffocation, so don't ya even try to move, luv."

You widened your stance with the guidance of his hands until there was enough space to allow his face to fit between them. Hands back on your hips, holding them as handlebars so that he could incline his face against your cunt he dove in.

Your petals were so warm, so silky, and it felt good on his mouth as he kissed that other lovely set of lips a few times, sighing as he was finally able to relax in his favorite place.

"Here we go, baby," Simon breathed into you as he extended his tongue and drug it over the slit between your legs until he had split you open, rubbing the muscle through the small accumulation of your juices to coat his tongue.

Goddamn were you sweet tonight. "Mmmm mmmm," his deep, garbled hum vibrated deliciously on your clit as the taste of you filled Simon's mouth and tingled on his taste buds.

…And then he began to move the pad of his tongue…

Over and over his tongue engaged your core. "Fuck, Simon," his name fell from your lips as his tongue began to make you writhe against his face.

"Again," he said in that gruff growl as he pulled from your for only a second.

You knew exactly what he meant for you to do. "Simon," his name was beautifully moaned from you once more as he focused all his efforts on that small bead of nerve endings at the top innermost part of your cunt.

The sound of your soft, breathy voice calling out to him made the previously enraged Lieutenant fucking crack at the seams and any trace of that rage-inducing day was suddenly completely gone; replaced by a fire to make good on his promise to desperately lap at you for as long as it took until his skin was infused with your scent and he was fully satisfied.

He moved up even tighter against your core, locking on so that even as you bucked there was no chance he would fall off until he was good and fucking ready to let you go. Shit he was pushing you to the limit of what you could take, your body aching wildly as his strike hit precise and deliberate every time until you were right at the cusp of your pleasure. God, his pace was relentless.

Overwhelmed with the intense gathering of warmth in your belly, your toes began to curl together over top of the floor as you scrambled to keep your breathing steady through the growing euphoria. How were you supposed to force yourself to intake air when all your functioning had been redirected straight to that pleasure sensor in your brain?

That thought had little time to gain traction as that feeling of impending pleasure had reached its peak.

Suddenly you were spilling violently, crying out as you tried to move him from you, but Simon was in this till the end. He kept at it until you had ridden it out to completion and finally settled, your heavy panting becoming softer and more drawn out.

You thought that that was it; the finale had been reached and all was good right? You could not have been more wrong. A wet flash of a smirk crossed his lips as he stood back up before you.

Without even a verbal warning his hands were suddenly digging into your sides as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where he sat you on the surface of the bed. Reaching with one of his hands over his shoulders he gripped the fabric of his shirt in his grasp and pulled until it came off over the top of his head, throwing the useless article to the floor before stalking towards the bed.

"On ya knees baby," he grunted as he hurriedly laid down on his back beside you further up towards the head of the bed. "Over my face. Now."

Simon pulled at your arm until you moved, his need to be smothered between your thighs causing him to rush. Grabbing on to the headboard for leverage you knelt over his head.

Your petals glistened with the sticky cum and saliva mixture he had just created as he ate his first course, but there was still plenty to get lost in and he was more than ready to dive back into it.

Greedy hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin of your thighs. "Sit," he commanded and you bent your legs until you were just above his nose, but that wasn't good enough; he didn't need you being gentle, he needed you to give him what he wanted - to let him drown in you.

"No hoverin', I said sit," he hissed as he quickly moved his hands to your hips and wrenched them down so that you had no choice but to lower yourself until your pussy was completely flush against his face like a chair.

His breath hitched not just from the instant lack of available oxygen, but because the feeling of being completely enveloped by your pussy was akin to being high; he was on cloud fucking nine just suffocating against you.

The headboard thumped against the wall from your arms shaking as full contact was made again along your core after just having come. The tears stung your eyes, your over-stimulated clit so sensitive it almost hurt. His grip on your hips didn't let up, keeping the pressure tight so that there was no chance of escape, even though you wriggled in search to ease up a little.

There was still some fight left in you; that simply wouldn't fucking do as it meant he hadn't finished the job and he was anything but thorough. Simon needed you completely spent and too exhausted to even move a goddamn inch.

"I-I can't…I can't," you pleaded with him as you squirmed over top of his stark features like anything you said would persuade him to give up.

You could hear his voice in your head, you knew what he'd say if he could talk at that moment. "Oh yes you can sweetheart. You're gonna fuckin' take it all for me."

I mean look at that big boy, he could eat and that meant all types of meals, you included most of all.

As if a nonverbal response to your mewling, his tongue picked up in speed, stroking wildly against your clit with reckless abandonment. Your fingernails were digging into the wood of the headboard, thighs vibrating against Simon's ears as each movement of that deadly appendage brought you closer and closer to your second harsh release.

"Bastard," you whined.

He gave your hips a hard squeeze. Call me what you like baby, he thought, you're still gonna fuckin' come as many times as I want.

So warm, so wet, so soft, gasping for air... He was in heaven.

Unconsciously your hips began rocking along with the thrusts of his tongue, riding him just as he worked and that familiar feeling in your stomach returned. Seconds passed…or was it minutes? Hours? Time seemed to pass differently when he was eating you out.

All of a sudden you stopped rocking, pressing your pussy as hard as you could against his face, and with a few more hard strokes you cried out as you came violently, slamming into the headboard as your thighs clamped down around Simon's ears.

"S-s-shit…" you whimpered as you ground out the last drop of your ecstasy until Simon tapped your thigh to be set free.

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed bright red, you fell down on the bed beside him, unable to move a muscle save for your head. Turning your face towards him you were met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes, face absolutely drenched from eyebrows to chin in a thin layer of your cum.

He reached out to you, his palm cupping over the entirety of your cheek. "You did so fuckin' good for me sweetheart," he praised, thumb rubbing over the supple skin there. "So fuckin' good that I think ya deserve a break…but I don't think I'm finished quite yet."

"Oh?" you questioned back through heavy breaths, eyes wide. More?

He chuckled in that deep vibrato as he rolled over to kiss your forehead. "Well… ya see… it was a really fuckin' bad day."

You hadn't planned on dying today, but if Simon got his way he would be setting up your funeral later tonight, but there were worse ways to go…right?

[michelristenpattsworld]

Senior, not retired

Twice as nice

[girldickdotcom]

sped all the way from work to catch like 45 min of city of caterpillar and neither opener but they were badass

[rabotimagines]

"HARMLESS" GN BOT! Reader x Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, light Yandere! Scenario

Summary: He'd been walking down one of the ark hallways when he'd heard a noise that drew his attention down one of the more secluded pathways. He'd followed the sound to figure out who was back where they shouldn't be only to find you self servicing.

Warnings: Noncon Voyeurism. Noncon recording in Jazz's section. Smut ahead. Minors DNI 🔞

Genre/Theme: Light Yandere/More Obsessed vibes tbh, catching crush/Obsession masturbating. Smut.

G1! Characters included: Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide

Notes: Jazz is the only one here whose accepted the fact that he's a freak. The others are in varying stages of denial. Autobot reader. Valve and Spike are used since BOT reader.

Pronouns: You, your, yours

Optimus isn't trying to sneak anywhere he was simply- curious. Honestly, he was expecting to maybe find the twins up to some pranking or something of that nature. The wall is thick and tall enough that Optimus is just hidden naturally. He smiles to himself at the thought of spooking one of his friends or comrades, so he let's himself- indulge in the little fun. It was harmless, after all. He's up against the wall, ready to interrupt whatever tomfoolery when his optics catch on an opening before the turn. Optimus peers in curious when a sound happens again- and almost stumbles backwards and lands on his aft.

You- panting, optics bright, servos readily stroking over your plating. Array popped open with spike and valve on full display for anyone to see. You were self servicing right here almost in front of Optimus. Heat hit Optimus's fuel lines so quickly he was half worried he'd risk actual sudden ignition. Optimus knew he shouldn't even feel this way about you- it wasn't even- he was your leader for Primus sake! He was the prime he wasn't supposed to be- a pervert! But something- something about you just made his systems lock up and his mind wander in places it hadn't gone in vorns. Made Optimus think in a way he shouldn't. In a way, he couldn't-

The soft sound of you groaning at your own administrations violently locked Optimus back to what he'd unknownly just walked into. Optimus watched stunned as two of your digits slipped into your valve rather easily. Your other servo lightly trailed along your spike, which was twitching in the air and leaking lubricant all over yourself from want- Optimus had to force his engine not to loudly rev in anticipation The sound urged to reverbate through his own frame at the sight.

Optimus knows he can't but- but with you like this right in front of him for his optics, he can't not think about it. Optimus wants to spike you - he wants to so bad. He'd have to stretch you. Optimus was admittedly rather large- overall. (You could even be in his frame size class, and he'd still have to prep you-) He wonders if your optics would brighten like that one time he'd praised you for a battle decision. He'd fold you in half, using his servos to drag you back down his spike in time with his own thrusts. He'd praise you over and over again if you reacted so sweetly. Regardless of how much of his spike you'd actually be able to successfully take.

Optimus knew the more responsible course of action would be to take your spike in his valve instead. But Optimus startlingly finds he doesn't want to be responsible with you. He wants to spike you so badly- your noises getting louder cut his own quick fantasy short, Optimus's attention zeroed in on you. You started bucking your hips against both your working servos desperate for Overload. Optimus has the very fleeting thought of revealing himself and offering assistance before he watches you spill transfluid all over yourself with a full frame shutter.

You gasped in vents of air as the charge trickled over your plating in fits- and Optimus lately realizes his smoke stacks were puffing smog when the smell of ozone hits his olfactory. Optimus has to force himself to move, but once he does, he leaves so quickly he's worried you might've heard him. This leaves Optimus plagued by what he should not have seen in the first place. His entire day is filled with the imagery of you- panting, optics bright, servos on your array- and he has no clue how he manages to finish the little amount of paperwork that he had. Optimus doesn't let himself self service. He can't- he won't- it was so wrong. You didn't even know Optimus saw the whole thing- that he saw you so- indecent.

He's plagued by one more thought of you taking his spike- your hips bucking against his, and Optimus gets up and forces himself to the washracks. It was rather late anyway there shouldn't be any mech using it. He walks in and promptly stops because there is someone using it, and Primus, it's you! With solvent running down your frame casually washing yourself with no worries. He mets your optics (after his optics had trailed much too long on your frame), and you casually greet him, then go back to your rinse. Completely unaware of what offensive imagery had just barreled through Optimus's proccessor.

Optimus didn't wait to promptly step under the closest washrack and turn the solvent on the coldest possible setting. Not even flinching when his frame is doused in a freezing temperature. Optimus finds he has to exert his will to keep staring at the wall and not steal any other glance at you.

... Primus, he needed to get a better hold of himself.

-

Prowl following the sounds in the off-limits area had come with purpose and indent. He'd been readily prepared to scold any of the usual troublemakers for getting up to something they shouldn't have. Clearly, that's what this was, with whoever trying and failing to keep entirely quiet. There was certainly an attempt, and Prowl would not have noticed if he were any of the usual autobots. But Prowl was always alert, and now he's here slowly trailing along the wall. He'd known there was a small indent hidden from the hallway for someone to hide or lean against. Prowls optics catch on a small opening in the wall that allows him to spy who-

Prowl stops dead in his tracks when he sees you- he almost walks the last two steps and reveals himself to you when he actually processes your expression. Optic ridge tight, mouth open panting, optics bright- Prowls line of sight trails down your shuttering frame before they widen when they land on your pressurized spike. His gaze snaps farther down instinctively when he catches movement and sees your valve.

He also sees the false spike in your valve.

His doorwings hike so high so quickly that Prowl can feel the snap of air on his own neck cables. He can feel his own optics burn brighter and his logic centre suddenly goes rouge and attempts to calculate subduing measures on you- Prowl wasn't going to subdue you- you weren't a threat- just as he dismisses the calculations you groan rather loudly. The action triggers the subduing success calculations to turn back on, and Prowl watches you hilt the false spike back in your valve. Valve stretching to accommodate it and hard spike leaking lubricant at your own heightened arousel.

Prowl- Prowl needed to leave now. It had to be you of all mechs. If it was anyone else, Prowl would be able to rightfully interrupt this debauchery. But the fact that it's you- You softly panting with your array on full display and demonstration- Prowls processor is stuck, and he feels like if he stares too long, he'll risk a minor circuit crash. Prowl still doesn't know what it was about you that made his system stutter like it does. But Prowl knew that whatever it was- it was unhealthy. It wasn't  harmless- it was far from it. Prowl shouldn't think about you like this- He has to force himself to look away from your array again. Prowl had barely managed to push you out of his proccessor the other day, and now he's seeing you like- you groaned, and Prowls door wings vibrated a touch at the sound.

Prowl takes one long last look at your pleasured faceplate before promptly turning on his pede and briskly walking away. Prowl makes his way back to his office and sits, and finishes his entire daily paperwork log so quickly he's stuck sitting in his office staring at a blank datapad. Now, the other problem he had to solve. How is Prowl to... inform you that you're not allowed to self-service outside of your habsuite.

Prowl knows you have that false spike in your subspace. He knows he could call you in right now and make you empty your entire subspace on his desk for him. Say some of the autobots were smuggling... contraband. If you didn't drop it, he'd frisk you for it. Regardless, it would be put out on his desk, and Prowl would scold you and properly punish you. Prowl would use it on you. Force that false spike in your valve again and again and watch you fall apart while his own spike ached against his modesy panel. He'd make you overload all over yourself until all you could say was his designation.

His proccessor supplied the image of you sitting on his desk, with your legs splayed open on either side of you. Transfluid all over the front of your chasiss from your overworked spike. With Prowls own spike sitting heavy against the mesh of your valve...

Prowl has to force himself to turn and go on break. Which leads to him walking like he's on his way to kill a mech and subsequently scaring anyone out of his way as he makes his way to his habsuite. Prowl overloads into his fist so hard his battle computer resests itself from the heat. When it turns back, his logic centre started by running through the success he'd have getting himself alone with you and your potential routes of travel around the ark... It takes a shameful amount of effort to dismiss the promt...

The stasiss cuffs Prowl always keeps in his subspace feel absurdly heavy.

-

Ironhide is like Prowl, he'd come expecting to have to drag a troublmaker or two out and lay into them. He's not usually light on his pedes, but he'd had to learn to be after this many vorns at war. So he makes his way over ready to drag an autobot out like a buzzing scraplet if he needed to. But he stops when he hears a sharp invent that could have been pained? The sound sets his plating shifting the wrong way, and he gets even quieter and reaches a tentative servo against his subspace. Ready to pull his blaster out if he had to blast like pit as soon as he turned that lil' corner.

Ironhide's optics catch movement, and his gaze is drawn to the little broken patch of wall that gives him a small but wide enough gape to easily pear in and see what was on the other side. Ironhide stops and actually focuses on it only to recognize just who's plating that was- You failing to stifle a moan sends Ironhides plating ruffling for an entirely different reason. Oh, sweet slaggin- Ironhide has to bite his glossia so he wouldn't curse a storm under his own vents. Really? Here? Now? You were actually doing this?! You little pervert!

Ironhide- Ironhide knew whatever he felt about you was- well, fragged to put it lightly. He'd been online for frankly too damn long, and he'd never felt like this before. (And that only made it freak him out even more.) Yeah, he'd loved and crushed and fantasized, but whatever you were doing to his systems was something else. The blasted amount of feelings you were giving Ironhide was a pain in his aft on a good day. On his bad days, he couldn't focus on anything else, but his proccessor conjured charged fantasies- like he was a fragging youngling who'd just learned what interfacing was.

Ironhide sure wasn't about to let that stop him from doing his job, though. He was gonna drag you out and put you on chore duty for a week for this- You failing to stifle a groan that only turned muffled halfway which made Ironhide focus back on you through the gap and Ironhide swallowed hard. You had your digits shoved into your own mouth, thrusting them in again every time you thrust your spike into your other servo. You moaned against your own digits, your own desperate servo sending a bit of oral lubricant down your chin.

Arousel spiked in Ironhides frame so damn fast he didn't even have a chance to deny the HUD prompt before his array snapped back of its own accord. Ironhide bit his glossia, glaring at his now suddenly very fully ready to go spike. Ironhide cursed hard in his proccessor at his own frames utter betyral. You whined around your digits, and Ironhides will shattered like glass. His servo cupped and immediately started stroking his own spike. Fine- fine! Ironhide would let you have this harmless dirty little secret. Even if he shared it a little bit with you-

Ironhide took the sight of you in- Optics bright, mouth making a mess all over yourself with your own digits, Spike hard and probably aching- Ironhides spike throbbed and he made sure to match the pace on his spike with your own servos speed. Ironhide pressed slightly against the wall, imagining it was you. Instead, he could press into the ground. Pit- Ironhide could take two the last two steps and do it right now- (He wouldn't- he couldn't.) Just two easy steps, and he'd scold you for being a pervert. (With his own spike already dripping-) Ironhide could punish you for it- he should punish you for it.

Ironhide would make you get on your knees and he'd have you swallow his spike. Put something better in there than your own desperate digits- you groaned on your own digits, and it was scarily easy to imagine you on his spike instead. Ironhide overloads to the sound of your own overload- he has to set his jaw tight, so the heavy groan that wanted to roll out of it wouldn't give him away.

Ironhide then realizes he's made a mess on the wall with his own transfluid and quickly grabs the rag he keeps in his subspace for oil. He wipes his mess up as quickly as he can before turning and making his way back to the main hallway. Ironhide might not get you for self servicing- but he can definitely scold you for slacking when you're supposed to be on the job. So Ironhide waits around the corner for you to come out on your own accord. 

... Ironhide realizes he can't deny this much longer before some other part of him breaks.

-

Jazz is naturally light on his pedes after vorns of making sure he stays that way. He doesn't even have to stop before he's leaning up against the wall instinctively when he hears another soft set of sounds trying and failing to stay quiet. So Jazz does what he does and sneaks over to find out what's what. He half wonders what he's gonna interrupt so he leans to peak between a gap to see a peak of whatevers being hidden from him- and Jazz almost immediately gives himself away like some kind of rookie at the sight of you with your interface array popped open.

Jazzs spark stutters and arousel starts pumping through his system like it was his function. As soon as he realizes it's you- You self servicing- a delighted smile curls on his face, and he leans farther against his little gap to get a better view. Oh, Jazz is lucky! he's so lucky-

Jazz had long accepted the admittedly almost obsessive hold you had on his spark and processor. After a few internal debates, he'd elected his feelings for you while wild were also genuine. So Jazz just needed to squash down the more- intense urges, and he should be fine. Jazz was never the type of mech to shy away from vices. Whether it was a harmless perversion or the unsavory things he needed to be or do as the head of special operations. Jazz had no objections in indulging in his romantic desire for you. (He just needed to make sure it didn't consume him whole while he tried to woo you properly.)

Jazz could interrupt and scold you teasingly and offer a servo, but Jazz knew you wouldn't be likely to want to keep going after being interrupted doing what you thought was private...

So he decides he'll take the harmless- (what you didn't need to know wouldn't hurt you.)  opportunity and activate the record function setting on his visor. He didn't want to miss this- Your servo stroking along your twitching spike, other servo running along your frame touching and grasping at the gasps in your plating. Giving Jazz a proper show of you tentatively touching yourself. Jazz wonders what your spike would feel like in his valve when you buck your hips against your own hold. Jazz then has to bite down on his bottom derma so he wouldn't groan at the sight of you spreading your legs unknownly, giving him an optic full of your obscenely dripping valve.

Jazz reigns in the wild urge to jump you- to offer to help because he knows the act would ruin any process he'd made getting closer to you even just as a friend-Jazz leaned even closer, focusing on your digits teasingly brushing against your own mesh and anterior node. Jazz found himself wanting to burry two digits down to the knuckle in your valve and hear what sound you'd make. Would you manage to stay quiet like you were now, or would you moan for him? You panted out quick vents and noises that were still so restrained due to where you were. Your servo jerked your twitching spike quicker, causing more soft and barely audible sounds.

Jazzs own digits started to dig into the gap of his inner thigh armor. Moving to run along there against the dips of his own array panel. He'd pop his aching spike out, but Jazz didn't want to even chance ruining any little sound you might make with his own noises. Or the sound of his own lubricant- this was all you, baby. All for him-

Jazz has to dig his digit pads into his own thigh- scratching the paint right off when he watches you overload. You looked so good- So perfect. So sultry. So perfect for him-

Jazz has to force himself to hit end on the recording when you start to rise and move to quickly clean up. You'd be coming his way in a moment, after all. So Jazz casually stalks his way back to the common hallway he'd started at and moves to finish that report he'd originally been filing. He's definitely just going through the motions, though. His proccessor replaying his new prized recording over and over for him behind his visor.

He's self servicing to it as soon as he tucks into his habsuite for scheduled recharge. Jazz is already making notes about how you touched yourself and how he could keep that little information tucked away for later. Jazz, let's himself imagine spiking you in your little area and giving you a proper valve overload, making your optics bright and your vents shaky. Jazz then imagines riding your spike and filling him up like he'd filled you up. He imagines sucking your spike- tasting your valve. Jazz had already accepted that he wanted you in every way you'd let him, so he has no problem indulging further and further.

Jazz overloads hard watching you overload a second time. And Jazz has to bite down on his own knuckles to not set Red alerts hallway sensors off. Maybe... Jazz could adjust your work schedule and give you just slightly more free time than you have right now. Would be a shame if your little hiding spot went... unutilized

Jazz just hoped he'd be quick enough to catch you next time, too.

[jybyls]

Empty || T.C

Masterlist

Request by anonymous here

Warnings: Family issues, drugs, domestic violence, bullying ? Bad writing as usual, and I think that's all.

Words: 4k~

- 📜🎧🍂 -

Oh God, how she hated you.

You were always annoying her at some point. Giving her sarcastic answers, interrupting her whenever she's talking, disagreeing with everything she says, making comments on her height, etc... But not only were you saying annoying stuff, you'd also grab her shirt to make her fall, come up out of nowhere to scare her, squeeze her cheeks when she gets upset, mess with her hair and to add to all of that you gave her nicknames. Absurd nicknames.

They weren't disrespectful names. Actually, they were sort of cute, but coming out of your mouth, she knew it was just to tease her. The nicknames could go from “Baby” to “My Cutie patootie Lovey dovey friend” with the smuggest smile on your face.

She hated that.

Tara never understood why you took so much pride to make her life a living hell. She always ended up mad at you and screaming if not yelling at you to leave her alone. But you never stopped- actually, you'd eventually stop but never for too long.

The thing was, well, first of all, terribly cliché and hella obvious for everyone but Tara.

You liked her.

You never liked someone as hard as you liked, Tara. And when you realised you had a crush on her, you panicked. You didn't know how to act, what do to, when to do it, you just couldn't function around her anymore, so you just teased her. It was the only way you could be next to her without making a fool of yourself.

Of course, everyone knew. Everyone means Sam, Chad, and Mindy.

Sam was probably the first one to realise the way you looked at her sister when she wasn't paying attention. She probably knew you had a crush on her before you did. At first, she didn't understand why you started to annoy Tara every chance you got, but then she saw the way you'd get all worked up whenever she was flirting with someone else at parties. After that, it all made sense to her. You had a thing for her little sister.

She didn't say anything to anyone for a while, she just watched the way you were around her, the way every time she had an meaningless eyes contact with you, you unconsciously held your breath and when she'd finally look away you let that breath you didn't know you were holding out. It was little stuff like those who assured her that you indeed had a crush on her.

She needed to know she wasn't the only one who thought that, so she talked about it to the twins. Both of them screamed, 'Thank you !', saying how glad they are that Sam saw all of this too. You were so fucking obvious, but she was too fucking oblivious. They all decided to keep this between them and just watch you interact with Tara, and listen to Tara complaining about how fucking childish you are. All of the three of them wanted to tell you to stop messing with her since it wasn't working at all. Not one bit. It did the all opposite actually, she didn't grow to love you but to hate you.

She couldn't stand you. Your looks, your voice, your comments, your personality. Everything. There's not one thing she could appreciate about you. She didn't even know why she still talked to you.

Well, maybe because all of her friends actually liked you, which she didn't understand either. Everyone seemed to love your company when you were around. She hated it. Your energy was so draining to her. It felt like you took all of her energy away. Everyone is always laughing when you're here, everyone except Tara. She couldn't bring herself to find you funny, your little jokes about her that made everyone smile but her.

She'd give you the coldest glare each time her name left your mouth. But after some time she got use to it, not that she had the choice, you were always around, and fighting with you was starting to exhausted her so she preferred to learn how to deal with your presence, even if she thought about putting your head in dirt every seconds you're near her.

At some point she just stopped paying attention to you, fully avoiding you, not looking at you, not talking to you so obviously not fighting with you anymore, that's the only way she could stand you without physically hurting you.

But it has been now a week that Tara didn't need to avoid you because you simply were not around anymore. She seemed so relieved at first that she'd go around her apartment a little smile on her face, like she was living again. She didn't think much about you not being here. She was just happy not to hear your voice blasting in her ears with the most enraging comments.

Sam did ask Tara if she knew why weren't you showing up anymore. Her answer was,

“Why would I care ? Asked her yourself.”

Sam just rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone to check up on you.

Y/n

Sam: Hi Y/n, are you doing alright ? I haven't seen you in a while.

It took you 40 minutes to answer, which was quite unusual for you. You always answered fast, more specifically to Sam, knowing how worried she got.

You: Hey yeah sorry I'm fine, just family stuff yk

*You know, sorry forgot you're old

Sam: Oh shut it, I'm not old.

If you need to talk about it I'm here, yk.

You: Lmao yeah thanks see ya

Sam: Sure thing.

See you, little one.

Tara watched Sam texting you, and even if she wouldn't admit it, the expression on Sam's face worried her. She wanted to know if you were fine without making it look like she cares about you because she doesn't. At least, that's what she forced herself to believe. “So ? What's up with her ?” She asked Sam, trying her best to sound nonchalant. The older Carpenter didn't understand why she asked, but she brushed it of thinking it was her empathy talking.

“I don't know, she just told me she has 'family stuff' going on, that's it.” Sam answered, putting her phone back in her pocket. Tara felt her heart skip a beat, hearing that you might have family problems. Once again, she couldn't comprehend why her body reacted so much to this information. Maybe it was because she could relate to family issues, and she doesn't want anyone to cope with this pain, or maybe it was that she didn't want you to cope with it.

'No, that can't be it, I do not care about her, I never did. It's just 'cause I can relate to that.' She thought to herself. She didn't ask anymore questions and nodded to her sister before going upstairs, in her room.

The idea of you not being alright started to kill her. She couldn't stop thinking about you, but what killed her more is that she had no clue why she cared now. It's not the first time you said something about your family. That was actually quite a topic of conversations. You never said much, but all your friends; Chad, Mindy, Sam, and Tara; knew that you didn't exactly have the dreamy family, and it's why you were constantly hanging at their place. So Tara knew about you and your family and she never really gave a fuck, you seemed fine after all, so fine that you never stopped messing with her when you were there. So why did she care now ? Nothing changed.

Well, maybe something did change. Her. Her feeling changed, but she never caught up with them. She never noticed she was bored when you weren't with her, never noticed the burning feeling in her stomach when you were playing around with someone else was jealousy, never noticed the warmth of your hands was comforting her, she never noticed all of those little things. Maybe if she wasn't so stubborn, she would've realised all of those things, but her ego was stronger than her.

Until now. She did feel the emptiness after two weeks without seeing you. She genuinely missed you and your shitty behaviour but she was too self-willed to admit it to anyone, she barely admit it to herself and even if the need to send you a text was eating her alive, she never did.

She just kept asking Sam if she had any updates, being really careful to have her best poker face on.

Sam always had a little smirk on her face, knowing that her sister was trying to hide her concern for you. She tried to convince her to just send you a text, but she refused every time.

And when Sam would ask her why she won't she send you a text or call you and she came up with the most ridiculous excuses she had ever heard. Like, “She'll just tease me and won't answer at the end.” or “It's not for me, Chad asked.” And that one made her cry of laughter, “I don't even have her on my phone !” You guys literally have an Instagram group chat with you in it, and you both follow each other.

Sam knew that Tara had too much pride to say that she actually gave a fuck about you even just a little bit, she eventually gave up on asking Tara to contact you herself.

Another week went by. It's been now three weeks without seeing you, and Tara was visibly unhappy, less enthusiastic, somehow more tired, and she'd snap anyone who dared to talk to her.

But on a Monday morning at school, while she was talking to her friends, waiting for the bell to ring, she saw a figure afar that she thought she recognised. But Tara being Tara, she didn't go to check herself. Instead, she just sent a text to Chad.

Big boy

Tara: Hey Chad, is y/n back ?

Chad: Idk I haven't seen her

Why ?

You saw her ?

Tara: Yeah I think so

Chad: Where ???

Tara: I think I saw her going to English class

But I'm not sure

Chad: Girl-

Just send her a text

Tara: Well do it yourself

Chad: But you think you saw her !

What am I going to tell her ??

“Hey, so Tara told me she think she recognised you but don't want to send you text herself, so here I am doing for her. So are you back girl ??”

Like come on be fr

Tara: Yeah you should send her that

Actually no

Don't say that I probably recognised her

You saw her, not me, alright ?

Chad: BUT-

YOURE THE ONE THAT ASKED IF SHE WAS BACK

Goddamn Tara fix your stubbornness

We all know you like y/n

Just admit it

Tara: What ????

I don't like her

Fuck her

Chad: Yeah you wish you could

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes at Chad's text before picking up her bag and heading to class. The second she stepped inside, her eyes were scanning the classroom, hoping to find you sitting at your desk. The smile she didn't even know she had on slowly faded when she saw you were nowhere around. But then she flinched when out of nowhere two mysterious hands were placed on her waist, her defensive side immediately showed up when she nudged the stranger behind her, her elbow directly hitting the right eye of the person behind her.

“Ouch ! Well, I'm happy to see you, too, Tara.” She quickly turned around the moment she heard your voice, yet something was off about it. Your hand was scrubbing the eye she hit. “Oh, shit ! Did I hurt you ?” Tara asked, clearly worried. She got closer to you to check on your eye. It was a bit teary and red. “No, it's fine. It was my fault anyway, I shouldn't have surprised you like that. Sorry.” Your apologises took her so off guard that she stepped back to look at you up and down, like to check if it was actually you. She got closer to you again to hold your chin up so she could have a better look at your injury. She brushed her thumb under your eye. You hissed slightly at the pain.

“You should go to the nursery.” Tara told you, you never heard her talk to you with such a soft tone, but again, she never heard you apologise for anything before. “No, I'll be fine. It's nothing bad.” You answered, closing your eyes for her to stop looking at the injuried one. “You're sure ? Because I for sure can throw a push.” She tried to joke, laughing quietly, hoping for you to follow her.

And you kinda did. A small smile on your tired face was shown. Tara watched your drained state with sorrowful eyes. Her hand was still holding your face. You would've melt in her touch normally but right now you weren't sure if you wanted her to touch, not because your feeling dissapeared but because you were too ashamed of yourself in this condition, you didn't want her to see you like this, you kept thinking she'll find you repaling yet it didn't seem like she was.

Her eyes were full of guilt. She genuinely felt bad about hurting you even if it wasn't on purpose. “Let's at least put some water on your eye. The teacher will understand our absent.” Tara insisted, and you finally gave up, letting her guide you to the closest bathroom. Once there she took some paper towel and drowed it under cold water, “Could you come closer, please ?” She asked you, and you did. She moved closer to you so she could take care of your eye. She was gentle with her touch, her fingers slowly caressing your face to see for any discomfort. She put a wet piece of paper under your eye where the injury was, you flinched, which made her flinch, too, you mumbled a small 'sorry' as you looked down at your hands.

Tara realised the way you widget with your fingers. She softly put her hands on yours to reassure you. Her soft and warm touch immediately calmed you, eased down, your tense shoulders relaxed, your jaw unclenched, and your eyebrows down. You looked up at her, but her eyes were already on you. You felt her thumb brushing against your hands, a comforting smile on her face.

She once again got closer to your face, cautiously wiping the wet paper towel under your eye. This time, you didn't flinch. You let her do her work. Her eyes were focused on your injury, and yours were focused on her. You analysed her features, taking in every single one of her freckles, how she has lines on her nose because of how much she crunches it, her slightly furrowed eyebrows and the way she bites the corner of her bottom lip. You kept looking at her like she was the only woman on earth for so long that you didn't realize that she wasn't focused on your injury anymore but on you.

You snapped out of your thoughts to see Tara looking into your eyes with the softest smile on her face, “Where did you go ?” You stared at her for a moment before finally talking. “I... um... nowhere, sorry.” You flumbled, Tara just giggled on her side. That laugh. That laugh that made that makes your eyes light up every time you hear it, and obviously, this time it' noy different from the other time. Your eyes lighted up when her giggle left her mouth. You couldn't get your eyes off of her. She's just so mesmering. Hypntising ? Eternal ? Fasinating ? Magnifient ? Majestic ? God, you ould go on forever like that.

Andddd, your brain did. You heard her snapping her fingers in front of you, “Hey, where are you ? Why are you distracted ?” Tara wondered, her eyebrows were furrowed, and she seemed worried. “I'm sorry, my mind is all over the place.” You shook your head down. Tara hummed, looking at you up and down. She glared at you as she stayed quiet for a while. She straightened herself, put a finger under your chin to make you look at her, “Why are you such an ass with me ?” Her eyes deqdly looking into yours.

It was a blod question but nothing surprising when you know Tara. What was surprising was, you, atually giving her an answer. No jokes. No sarcasm. Just honesty. “I like you, Tara. I've always liked you. But I was too much of a jerk to think of another way to be around you without being an ass.” Here's the truth. And with that said out loud it could've been the end of you, and you really thought it was when she was just looking at you like you were a ghost, maybe that was because she was about to ghost you for the rest of her life, but fortunately for you Tara has a thing for assholes who temps to be jerks at times.

The thing is, the line between hate and love is very thin and breaks easily.

She saw the mortified look on your face, so she decided to stop the suspene and kiss you. Her right hand went on your left cheek as her left hand fell on your waist. You were too stunned to react. You just had enough capavity in you to let your lips follow hers, letting her take the lead of this magical moment. The kiss was tender. Slow but passionate. You both took your time to take each other's taste in. She tasted like dark chocolate, sweet but strong meanwhile you tasted like cigarretes, additive but deadly.

The kiss kept going for a minute, your lips moving in perfect synchronisation like they were made for each other. You both pulled away when air became a problem. She rested her forehead against yours, a content sigh left her lips. Silence filled up the bathroom, not a soul could be heard. You stayed like this for a moment before she broke the silence, “Why did you disappear for weeks ?” Her voice almost came out in a whisper. You debated with yourself if you should yes or no give her the real reason, “Why do you ask ? Missed me ?” You teased her. Well, good habits don't get away that quickly.

Tara rolled her eyes at your answer, but for probably the first time in her life, she put her ego on the side and admitted the truth. “You know what ? I did miss you. More than that, I was worried about you, and so were the others.” She genuiatly said, a hint of annoyance in her voice like she was mad you didn't tell her what was going on in your life earlier. Your face softened at her words, and you finally told her what happened.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry anyone. It's just that my dad came back, and he claimed to have totally recovered from his drinking problem, but that was a lie.” She carefully listened to you, holding your hand and brushing her thumb over it. Her eyes never left yours even tho you weren't looking at her. As you talked, your eyes roomed every corner of the room.

Tara gestured you to keep going, and after a deep breath, you did. “He got violent again. But this time, he took all of his frustration out on me, and mom did nothing to stop him. She was too relieved he didn't come back to beat her but me. And that's when she wasn't too stonned to remember she has a kid.” You confessed. And oh, how it stinged Tara's heart to hear what was going on behind the closed doors of your house. She felt so much anger at your parents for treating you like that, that for a brief second, she thought that some people actually deserve to get murder. But she brushed that thought off, and she pulled you in her arms.

Silence gained the room again. She kept you in her arms, trying her best to fight the urge to hug you tighly because she knows your body must hurt like hell from your dad's beating.

“I am so sorry.” She whispered in your ear. So many emotions were burning inside of her. She didn't know if she should be mad at your dad or scared of him. She didn't know if she should be sad for you or amazed by your strength. But all she knew was that she wanted nothing more but to protect you. Now that she had you, she definitely wasn't gonna let you go. You never felt so safe in someone's arms, you knew you could trust her, after all she went through she just wanted a quiet life with her loved ones and now you were forever part of this life.

You didn't let go of her. You couldn't. You want to stay in her arms as long as possible. Something about her scent was so comforting. It smells like home, not the absusive home you knew, but an actual home. A place you feel safe in, a place you can cry in as muh as you can laugh in, a place that feels right, a place you'd always come back to, a place you'd miss after leaving it for a week, a place that would make you forget about everyhting else, a place that helped you so much without being aware of it.

That place sadly couldn't be the home you live in but ended up being that person. Saying that you had a crush on her was not right because you fell in love with her, but right now, it didn't feel like you fell for her, but like you finally learn how to walk. How you approached her wasn't a good idea at all, but soulmates always ended up finding each other, and you found yours who was patiently waiting for you to come back to her.

She was perfect when it came up to filling that empty void in you. That empty void that should be filled with love, laughter, comfort, happiness, and good memories. Nobody in your life showed you how you were supposed to love someone, but when you met her, it all made sense. The way you wanted to cherish her, hold her, workship the floor she walks on. And that didn't change one bit. You still want to do all those things for her if not even more now that you have the certitud she's on the same page as you.

Now, all you had to do was let her walk inside that broken place and let her build everything again for that place to beat to the sound of home and not be empty anymore.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

Bonus:

*You and Tara are casually talking on the couch*

Sam: Am I tripping, or ever since y/n got back, her and Tara have been getting along ?

Mindy: Jesus, I thought I was the only one to think that.

Chad: Who knows, maybe Cupid hit them.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

You: Do you ever think we should tell them that we're dating now ?

Tara: Not yet, the shock could be too hard.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

A/n: Fucking finally. After 7 months I finally post this fic. It's definitely not perfect and there's a lot of things I could've bring up or talk more about or just developed, like Sam being protective and stuff but yeah I still hope y'all enjoyed reading this and yes the wait was definitely not worth it, my bad.

Have a good day/night. Love y'all <3 (and thank you for being so patient with me)

[thecoleopterawithana]

Now and Then

1977

Now and Then: I know it's true / It's all because of you

And if I make it through / It's all because of you / And now and then / If we must start again / Well, we will know for sure / That I love you

I don't wanna lose you, oh no / Abuse you or confuse you / Oh no, no, sweet darlin' / But if you have to go away / If you have to go, well you the reason [?]

Now and then / I miss you / Oh, now and then / I want you to return to me / 'Til you return to me / I know it's true / It's all because of you / And if you go away / I know you could never stay

.

1978

Love Awake: Love awake to the day / When we can make our love awake / Lord knows we need it any time we can get it / But we forget it every now and then / But if you don't feel it, later on, you'll regret it / And if we let it we could set it free, you and me

.

1981

My Old Friend: If I told you how I feel / Oh, it wouldn’t sound so real / ‘Cause emotions, they are just now settin’ in / But it sure is great to know / That wherever we may go / We can always be the best of friends

My old friend, / Thanks for inviting me in / My old friend, / May this goodbye never mean the end / If we never meet again this side of life / In a little while, over yonder, / Where it’s peace and quiet / My old friend, / Won’t you think about me every now and then

.

Well, it was something that I’ll never live long enough to forget. It happened in February of 1981 and as the world all knows, and never will forget, in December of 1980 when John Lennon was taken away from us, and so this was the following year, in February. I wrote the song about and for Paul McCartney. I did it because he was so kind to invite me down to this beautiful island of Montserrat with Stevie Wonder. Ringo was there, just had a wonderful time. I flew down by myself. Paul and Linda met me with a jeep on the (center) airfield with a little single engine plane and took me across the mountains we were like kids again, and it was a wonderful time, and I wanted to do… I didn’t want to cry when I left after staying down there, and I’m a big crybaby! If something moves me, I’ll just choke up… I talk about it. I thought that would happen, so the night before, I just wrote how I felt on the isle of Montserrat on every shell, forget a country boy with a guitar and a song you invited me, and you treated me like kin, and you’ve given me a reason to go on. So my old friend, think about me every now and then. I sang it for Paul, at about 10:00 the next morning. I was scheduled to leave flying again in the little single engine aircraft to the island of Antigua where I was flying commercial back to Atlanta and on to Nashville and back to Jackson, where I live here. I sang it, he said “Carl, it’s beautiful… would you sing it again?” and I said. “Sure, man.” He said “wait just a minute,” and he got Linda in there, and they sat on the floor, I sat on his old Fender twin reverb amplifier, with a guitar, I did however notice a microphone over there. I didn’t pay that much attention to it, but George Martin recorded it and after I finished singing the song to Paul, he was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and they’re pretty to me just like they are to the rest of the world. I think he’s a very handsome boy and always did. He’s even handsomer when he’s crying. And Linda said, “Carl, thank you so much.” I said, “Linda, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She said, “But he’s crying and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.” I mean he stepped outside of the room, out by the pool, and he just had his handkerchief out, and he was going at it. And she put her arm around me and said, “But how did you know?” I said, “Know what, Linda? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She said “There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. Me and Paul are the only two that know that, but now there’s three and one of you… you know it. I said, “Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were… he patted him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’ Q: That’s just amazing… And she said, here you are, that’s what you just sang, and how did you know? And I said I didn’t know it, gosh, I didn’t know it. But McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.

— Carl Perkins, interviewed for Goldmine (September 26, 1986).

.

1994

Paul had gone to Yoko to ask if she had any of John’s songs kicking around. The deal was that Paul would induct John into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in return. Yoko’s a generous person in that respect, so she actually gave him three songs – 'Free As A Bird' and 'Real Love' were worked up and released, the last one wasn’t.

— Source close to the Anthology project, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

.

1995

It was one day – one afternoon, really – messing with it. The song had a chorus but is almost totally lacking in verses. We did the backing track, a rough go that we really didn’t finish. It was sort of a bluesy sort of ballad, I suppose, in A minor. It was a very sweet song. I liked it a lot. Should it ever be completed it would probably end up as either ‘Now And Then’ or ‘Miss You’. I wished we could have finished it.

— Jeff Lynne, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

It didn’t have a very good title, it needed a bit of reworking, but it had a beautiful verse and it had John singing it. [But] George didn’t like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn’t do it.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Q Magazine (November 2006).

.

2007

There are a couple of things which may surface at some point. You see, with the Beatles, there’s always a surprise somewhere along the line. We did ‘Free As A Bird’ and ‘Real Love’, those two songs of John’s, and that was very exciting, very moving for me and very comfortable having his voice in my headphones in the studio again. And there was a third track, another song we had our eyes on called ‘Now And Then’. l actually wanted to do it on Anthology 3, but we didn’t all agree. But things change and the thing is that it might not go away. There was only one of us who didn’t want to do it. lt would have meant a lot of hard work, the song would have needed a lot of re-writing and people would have had to be very patient with us. But there are these one or two things lurking in the bushes. The Beatles might just raise their ugly little heads again…

— Paul McCartney, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

.

2012

And there was another one we started working on, but George went off it. We were like, ‘No George, this is John’. He said, ‘It’s still rubbish’. ‘Ok, then’. So that one is still lingering around. I’m gonna nick it with Jeff and do it. Finish it, one of these days.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the “Mr Blue Sky: The Story of Jeff Lynne & ELO” documentary (2012).

.

2018

Get Enough: It was a time when we walked by the docks / I told you, "I need you all of my life" / And watching the tugs rolling by together / Do you remember? / Do you remember the lights on the shore? / How they reflected the rain on the road? / I believed that you love me alone / It was real / Do you remember? / Now and then I see your face / I've been wanting a lovin’ embrace / I've been looking for love, but it gets me nowhere / Oh, yeah, yeah

Get enough, get enough, get enough of (Your love) (x2) / I can't get enough of / Of you

It was a time we were all full of hope / Saw the future burning bright / As we watched the moon rollin’ out to sea / Do you remember? / But those days are erased from my mind / Yeah, I've left all those old days behind / But still I remember your face forever, forever

.

If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Diane Sawyer for ABC News (November 2, 2000).

.

2022

And then 'Now and Then’ just kind of languished in a cupboard and we didn’t do anything with it. I kept saying, “You know, maybe we should do something with this, seems a bit—” “Hm, I don’t know…” There wasn’t a great desire to do anything with it. So it hung around for a while. Years! And every so often, I’d kind of go to the cupboard and think, “There’s a new song in there! We should do it! We gotta do it!” But it’d go back in the cupboard.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

I got a phone call from Paul saying, “Is it possible to use that [MAL] technology for another project I’ve been thinking about? […] Would it be possible to take John’s vocal and clean it up and get rid of everything else? Because that would allow us to finish this Beatles song.” And absolutely, it didn’t take me more than about a second to get back to him and say, “Of course we can do it!”

— Peter Jackson, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

.

2023

Now and Then: I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

And now and then / If we must start again / Well we will know for sure / That I will love you

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me / Always to return to me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if you go away / I know you’ll never stay

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

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I do feel as though ‘Now and Then’ is a love letter to Paul written by John. I mean, I've never really asked Paul about it, and I'm not sure whether Paul would say, ‘Oh, that's definitely it,' because he wouldn't want to second guess John. But that's the sense I get. And I get the feeling that's why Paul was so determined to finish it.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for PEOPLE magazine (October 26, 2023).

When you say you enjoy 'Now and Then', that’s really nice, because that’s why we do it. We do it so people can listen to stuff and not just hear it. 'Now and Then' sounds like a love song. It sounds like a song that John wrote for Paul, and the other Beatles: “I miss you/ Now and then.” It sounds like Paul has gone there, which I think he did. You know, no one told Paul to go and do it, and Paul didn’t go, This would be a great exercise for the Red and Blue Album. He was at home in the studio. He dug on the record and started working on it, because it’s his mate. And he really misses John. I mean, that’s the truth. They broke up, and John died nine years later. It really isn’t very long.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for GRAMMYS (October 26, 2023).

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When I remember the Beatles, I remember the joy, the talent, the humor, the love. And I think, if people remembered us for that — for those things — I’d be very happy.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).