#also some like cables and speakers and shit

[piss-bong]

a few weeks ago I told Tony I was looking to get some new music equipment. Last night he gifted me almost $1000 worth of gear but will not tell me where it came from

Gonna start a post abt my friend Tony bc he’s like a real life sitcom character

The other day he stole a bike, fixed it up, rode it to buy some weed, then put it right back where he found it

[pukicho]

So puki you make music, whats your setup like? Audio interface, software, etc etc. Askin cuz I wanna get into the scene

Well I wanna preface this with a few things!! I have spent 90% of my money on music stuff! I love it and have spent like 13 years acquiring this shit, but here is my studio from like 6 months ago

A FEW THINGS HAVE CHANGED SINCE THIS! I no longer have the Pro 3 and swapped it for… nothing! I just sold it, also I cleaned up those cables.

To keep it simple, I have an Apollo x8 audio interface, its the best sounding interface I’ve ever owned, all my synths go into the Apollo, I don’t have a mixer but I 100% need one, I have so many little synths not in use as a result of my lack of inputs!! I have an 8 channel midi host hidden behind some shit, and that really fucking helps. For the love of god don’t use USB midi for big synth setups like mine, it sucks. It pays to learn MIDI shit.

My current synth tower includes the Moog Matriarch, Udo Super 6 and the prophet 6 - under the desk is my OB6! I also own a few doodads like the elektron octatrak mk2, the eowave quadrantid swarm and the 0-coast - I use Adam A77x speakers and some nice headphones!

This is all stupid overkill and not necessary to make good music, I am just a whore, and I have lofty plans and projects! All u need is a focusrite (or a UA volt preferably, sounds better) a good vst like serum or vital (free serum but less presets and worse effects) and some samples u can get from splice or some shit - and maybe a nice MIDI controller - as for daws I suggest FL since its great for learning, or ableton if you plan on going ham with beat making, logic is also a beast for apple users. Most importantly, have fun and don’t be a dick. Also if u think ur music is good 2 years in, it probably isn’t, always something to learn. Byebye

[nuttytani]

Oh no! My suicidal big tiddies man got isekai'd

fandom: honkai star rail

characters: blade and gender neutral reader

tw: none except- maybe not proof read?

a/n: a silly birthday gift for my lovely friend here @tsubaki3192

It was currently 2 AM and you have been playing video games for hours now. Looking at the time made you instinctively yawn and stretch those stiff arms. You were interrupted by a strange gurgling sound coming from somewhere…. Actually, it was just you and your hungry tummy. Since it was super late to cook anything (and risky because it might wake up the entire house), you quickly sneaked into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge.

There were no leftovers. Just some sauce bottles, pickles, butter and milk. The fridge was positively empty of any food. There wasn’t even bread. What were you going to do with sauce and pickles? That didn’t sound appetising at all.

“Awe… There’s nothing,” you said while closing the fridge. Then you opened it again and finally grabbed that milk. That was your only hope.

At least it’s good for my bones, calcium and shit yeah?

Your legs and particularly knees have been creaky and making weird popping noises recently. Maybe those bones might be thanking you for the milk. Chuckling to your silly thoughts, you head back to your room, with a cup of milk and proceed to turn your computer off.

A weird green horizontal line appeared on your screen and your wallpaper surrounding that line turned pixelated. The speaker connected to your computer emitted creepy static-y noises like those really old radio. Something was not right and that something would land you in shit because this wasn’t some cheap ol’ computer. You painstakingly saved up for this bad boy after hours of part time jobs here and there while also struggling with your uni life. The model wasn’t anything new but it was good enough for you and it was your baby. That very baby was dying in front of you. You needed to fix it.  You instantly scrambled back into your chair and tried to check for cables. Maybe some cables were loose. Before you could even touch a wire, the entire screen turned green and turned black. The static noises stopped as well.

“Well… Guess I’m doomed.” You slide your hands down your face and slump down like that Shinji in a chair meme. If this was some horror story though this would be the perfect timing for a hacker or weird murderer to send a message like “I see you” or something of the sort. Actually, what if some weirdo dark web hacker was onto you and wanted to kill you for whatever reason?

Okay, that’s it. This was sleep deprivation talking. You need sleep. Like right now. There’s no hacker that wanted to murder you, it’s probably the lack of sleep frying your brain cells. You were a normal college student, trying to survive in this cutthroat dog-eats-dog world. Even if something does happen, it won't happen to you. Well, your computer dying aside…. NPCs such as yourself don’t get “fun privileges”.

That’s what you thought about 5 minutes ago when you didn’t have a razor-sharp blade pointed at your eye and you laid in your bed wondering what wrongs you committed in your past life that was happening to you. Did you steal a priest's robe? Did you offend some god by swearing at them? Fuck you past life self.

The person holding the sword was still hunched over you and didn’t move their sword. Not even a single centimetre. One wrong movement and you could lose your lovely sight once and for all!

“What is this place and who are you?” asked the person. Judging by their deep voice they were probably a man. They sounded really familiar. You squinted your eyes at the person. Hmmm, bluish-black hair, red highlights… He had some… Real nice assets... Meaning nicely shaped tits…. Hmmm.

“W-what are you doing!” the person raised their voice in surprise and took a step back.

Oh, they must have noticed you ogling. Was it that obvious? You keep staring at their assets because who knows when you’ll have the chance next time? And then your attention finally falls on his sword, it was a deep black that slowly turned into red towards the end and the shaft of the sword had golden crack patterns, you assumed it’s kintsugi.

Wait hold up, that sword looked too familiar. You have seen that many times.

“Holy shit! Are you Blade? Like the Stellaron Hunter Blade?” you exclaimed at the person.

“....Yes. Don’t you dare call the IPC. Or you will face my sword.”

“Well, I’ve been facing your sword for 10 minutes now…. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m talking to THE Blade. One and only Blade. Like actually from Honkai Star Rail? Who is basically lovers to enemies with Dan Heng? Can I touch you? Actually, I always thought your hair was pretty, can I please braid it?”

Blade was speechless and looked like a fish out of water and slowly sheathed his sword.

“Am I dreaming right now or is this what you call a sleep-deprived hallucination… I can’t tell.”

You were met with silence… He didn’t reply.

“I guess it’s a hallucination. ‘Mkay, goodnight, Mr. Dream-slash-hallucination-Blade.”

Just like that you slumped back into your bed, closed your eyes and snoozed.

.

Blade was left terribly confused.

Well, he was a Stellaron Hunter, you should be scared for your life. He kills people for a living. Most people would just have one glimpse of him and go running down the hill while screaming for their lives. But you didn’t? Even when you knew his identity? And his not-widely-known relationship with Dan Heng?

Clearly, you didn’t see him as a threat. He also noticed the way your eyes lingered around his chest.

Silver Wolf did say that he had “some big tiddies” for a man. Whatever that meant. And he’s currently stuck in this room. He had no idea how he ended up here. Just that he was speaking with Kafka about their latest “script” and the details given by Elio. And poof. Some strange glitch happened, and he ended up here. In this tiny room. A huge mess of a room. It was devastating to look at. The desk was covered with stacks of unorganised documents and some random trashy novels. There were also a few strange items that looked nearly identical to him… he tries to recall Silver Wolf’s terminology sessions… Merch? Clothes were all thrown over the office chair like it was some cover.  And the bookshelf was a wreck. An absolute wreck. He could even see how your closet wasn’t even fully closed! How many things were just packed in there?

Looking at the room triggered his migraine. He needed to do something about the state of this room, as soon as possible. Since he basically had nothing to do, he decided to clean stuff up. He organised your shelf– the books were in the order of the genre as well as the titles. He folded and hung your clothes and lined them up according to colour, as well as length. Cleaned up your desk, put away your documents into your drawer, hung up the merch on your cork display, vacuumed and mopped your floors and everything else that he noticed that was out of place.

By the time he was done it was already morning.

.

The birds were shining– no, hold up, that’s wrong, it was supposed to be the sun was shining. Yeah so, the sun was shining! The birds were singing! But why was your favourite game character in the flesh, right in front of you. Were you still dreaming? That’s impossible. You were definitely 100% awake. So you decided to simply stare at the video game character, who was acting like a total malewife cleaning your room. Your mind quickly flashed a Pikachu surprised face at the scene. You were sure that your face was looking like that too.

After what felt like an eternity of staring, you finally spoke, “So you’re real….?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Blade replied in a deadpan voice and a straight face.

Ok so he was real. That was established. Here’s the issue though. How were you going to keep a used-to-be-a-bunch-of-pixels-but-isn’t-anymore man in your room and your house? How were you going to explain this strange man being present in your room overnight to your family? Although you loved your suicidal big tiddies, man…. He needed to go. All those isekai stories and novels you read never talked about what to do when a fictional man just poofs into your house that you share with your family. How does one handle the situation? Someone better make a novel on this now… How does anyone even expect to cope with something like this? What to do now?

You muttered under your breath while thinking and paced around the room like a manic and started, “Should I hide you under the bed? No, you’re too huge for that. My closet doesn't have enough space for you either…. Oh, maybe you can hide in the bushes? Like jump out of my window and stay in there… for some time till I call for you.”

Blade motioned to you to shut up. Fair enough. You guess you were being too loud. Suicidal man needed some quiet time, you supposed.

“No need, I can simply do this.” Blade snapped his finger and he disappeared into thin air. There was another snapping sound, and he came back.

“This is a high-tech feature made by the Stellaron hunters that helps us to appear as if we’ve become transparent,” Blade explained.

“Cool. You should have just told me that sooner.”

And that is how your daily life with the suicidal big tiddies man started. Well it started-ish. He needed to go back to his universe but he said that the Stellaron Hunting could wait. Blade decided that he was on a paid vacation. Thankfully he could still converse with his colleagues, and they were figuring out how to get him back, although they assured you and Blade both that it wouldn’t be a difficult task except it might take a few months till Blade could reunite with the Stellaron Hunters. In the meantime, however, you were tasked to take care of Blade by Kafka and Silver Wolf. 

You and Blade had lots of fun, or at least you think he did. Every day was like a sleepover. Having facials and putting on face masks on each other while watching movies. Or playing some multiplayer games. Blade sucked at gaming, so you had to teach him a bit. You also read him trashy romance novels and even some funny fanfics to him. One day you two even went out to go shopping for some clothes because your big tiddies man could not wear the same pair of clothes every day. Plus, he needed some variety and those cowboy jeans needed to go. Immediately. He looked funny with them on, and no one wore bell bottom jeans in this era.

Though Blade was very sad to part from his fanservice clothes, he fell in love with hoodies and sweatpants. He said they were soft and comfortable to wear. He also wore his hair in a high ponytail or a low bun to blend in with others. You suggested him to get his hair trimmed but he didn’t like that suggestion at all. Blade even gave you a nasty glare for that.

Meanwhile, your family thought you were getting too lonely because they kept hearing you talk to yourself or “someone”. They tried to gently poke you about it every now and then since they were concerned for your mental health, but you would always brush them off.

Recently they saw you holding hands with thin air. Your family definitely knew something was going on now. They even considered calling an exorcist because that was so weird. They even heard a man’s voice speak.

That’s a whole different story though. Maybe for another time!

Until then, Fin <3.

a/n: yeah this was very crack and not serious lol.

here's my taglist if you ever wanna get notified about my fic/hc posts!

[asairayn]

EHEHEHAHAHHEAHHAHAHAHH so chapter 17 of permission slip! sure did happen! holy fucking shit! this is also for the end of chapter 16 but still!!! have a glamrock bonnie afton :) @thedemonsurfer

Caught up in trying to take in the ruined room, Gregory almost misses the animatronic slumped over at one of the tables. Its cobalt blue casing is badly cracked, with missing chunks revealing gunmetal grey and rusted endoskeleton, twisting wires in faded colors. The tip of one ear is gone, showing off silvery hinges like exposed bones. Thick cables spill from its back, snaking across the floor until they disappear behind the stage across the room. And Gregory is confused, because he's pretty certain Sun said there wasn't a Bonnie at this location anymore. As they approach the animatronic suddenly sits upright, neglected joints squealing and creaking horribly. Mismatched eyes, one green, the other glowing purple, stare at them over what remains of a light colored muzzle. On its chest is a yellow star above a large hole. Bonnie's head tilts. Speakers around the room crackle faintly before a smooth, accented voice spills from them.  "Hello, Gregory. My name is William Afton."

bonus sketch that i did to figure out how the hell to draw glamrock bonnie cause uh. never drawn him before! plus, of course, color testing. i have way better blues than reds, for some reason, so i barely even needed to test them.

also, fun fact, when i first started the drawing i put a note to myself saying "remember wires", and then right at the end of coloring i saw that note again and was like "SHIT RIGHT THE WIRES"

also. fun fact. I DIDN'T REALIZE I LITERALLY PUT HIM IN THE FUCKING SPRINGTRAP POSE UNTIL I'D ALREADY DONE MOST OF IT- that wasn't even intentional! but i'm very happy with it because that fits perfectly!

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Monsters of Rock 1998 Hair Metal / Hard Rock / Arena Rock /Heavy Metal / Pop-Metal

Good lord, this had to have been one of the most heavily advertised albums of all time, man. I don't know how much ad money the Razor & Tie label shelled out for all of their 'As Seen on TV' comps back in the day, but the commercials for Monsters of Rock and Monster Ballads were fucking inescapable throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, especially. Like, you'd be watching something on cable, and the commercial for this album would come on, so then you'd change the channel, and the same commercial would be playing on there too! And then you'd just force yourself to sit through it, and eventually, through repetition, the entire sequence of little song snippets that gets played throughout the ad would become a permanently etched medley inside of your goddamn mind, destined to haunt your soul for the rest of eternity:

🎶Cum on feel the noize, girls rock ya boys…my, my, my, I'm once bitten, twice shy, babe…poison!…*synths from Europe's "The Final Countdown"*…round and round, what comes around goes around, I'll tell you why…she's my cherry pie, cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise…we're not gonna take it, no! we ain't gonna take it…she's only seventeen, seventeen…here I go again on my own…I'm no fool, nobody's fool, nobody's fool…so hold on loosely…🎶

Now, the hair metal era may have been the dumbest and most ridiculous period of mainstream rock that we've ever borne witness to—and it's very difficult for me to think of another commercially successful subgenre in which rank stupidity has been such an inherently defining trait—but thanks to a combination of my own nostalgia for these damn Razor & Tie ads and my sometimes weird and ironic affinity for bad shit, after listening to this album, there is really nothing more that I want to do than hitch a ride back to 1990 so I can live out a super corny fantasy as a badass suburban high school senior who cruises through town in a boxy, red sedan with the windows down as these silly songs blare out of my speakers 😎.

But like I said, I am also under no illusion here; I'm fully cognizant of just how patently absurd so much of this music was. And when it comes to the pinnacle of pure trash, I really don't think anything ever quite managed to top Warrant's signature 1990 anthem, "Cherry Pie," which is obviously on this album. Like, have you heard or thought about this tune recently? It really might be the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history. And as the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history, it has thankfully and, I guess quite fittingly, been memorialized in some way, since…*checks notes*…you can currently go see the pizza box that its lyrics were originally transcribed on at the Hard Rock Cafe in Destin, Florida… 😭.

🎶I scream, you scream, we all scream for her Don't even try, 'cuz you can't ignore her!🎶

Also, Winger's "Seventeen." Yikes; you can probably guess what that one's about! Talk about songs that haven't aged well at all 😩:

🎶She's only seventeen (seventeen) Daddy says she's too young, but she's old enough for me🎶

Yeah… This one's catchy and all, but, um…no. 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎 Really glad we've finally realized as a society that, at the very least, fully-grown adults singing lustily about minors is a very unacceptable thing to do. I mean, it took way too long for us to get here, but at least we've finally made it to this point, right? And I think "Cherry Pie" is probably about a minor too, by the way, but that's also up for debate 😑.

To be clear, though, not every song on this album is embarrassingly dumb and/or skeevy hair metal. I happen to think Living Colour's alt metal classic, "Cult of Personality," is a genuinely great banger. And I also dig the southern rock smoothness of a song like .38 Special's "Hold On Loosely" too; but most of the rest of these are just pure dunderheaded hair metal classics, and a key, overarching feature of this stuff was just how fucking maximally mindless it all was. It's hard to put a finger on what exactly allowed this madness to spread so widely and flourish for nearly a whole-ass decade in the first place, but thank goodness grunge came along when it did and dethroned this stuff from its perch as rock music's top subgenre in the early 90s, because, seriously, this shit was so excessive and outrageous.

All that being said though, and as good and necessary as grunge was back then, I can't help but imagine what a kick-ass time it would probably be to have almost any one of these Monsters of Rock songs come on at the bar while you and everyone else around you are in a highly intoxicated stupor; like, "Black Hole Sun," "Man in the Box," "Interstate Love Song," "Even Flow," etc., might be total jams in and of themselves, but songs like those are probably not gonna do the same trick as something like Alice Cooper's "Poison" can in that type of situation. I mean, when you're fully committed to annihilating some brain cells, it's good to have music that's way ahead of you in order to accompany your experience, right? 😅

Highlights:

Quiet Riot - "Cum On Feel the Noize" Great White - "Once Bitten Twice Shy" Alice Cooper - "Poison" Europe - "The Final Countdown" Ratt - "Round and Round" Warrant - "Cherry Pie" Whitesnake - "Here I Go Again" Winger - "Seventeen" Living Colour - "Cult of Personality" Twisted Sister - "We're Not Gonna Take It" Judas Priest - "You've Got Another Thing Coming" Cinderella - "Nobody's Fool" .38 Special - "Hold On Loosely" Autograph - "Turn Up the Radio"

[queenofbaws]

I know I said my previous request would be my last one for the cable car series, but with each prompt fill being better than the last, I can't help but come back for more. I've been eatin' good so far, so I'm gonna double down and ask for dessert - a fifth and final part to the saga! I'd love to see a post-kiss heart-to-heart/true confession from Chris and Ashley. Something that dialogue-heavy might be a bit much for six sentences, though, so maybe save it for one of those long prompt weekends?

not-quite-six sentence weekend :P

(once upon a time, in a cable car not so far away...)

"So," they somehow managed to say at precisely the same time - Chris and Ashley, Ashley and Chris - neither the cold nor the heights nor the earth-shattering reality of what had just happened in the dimly lit cable car proving enough to override the wavelength they so often shared. The moment led to another (both telling the other to go ahead), led to another (both saying no, no, no, you first), led to another still (averted eyes and vague hand gestures, half-formed words that all sounded suspiciously like giggles). Then the cable car was quiet.

For a moment, anyway.

"So," Chris tried again, "how about this weather we're having?"

Ashley groaned, or sighed, or did both at the same time, it was hard to parse. Still, she found it within herself to sit up straight, all her earlier worries about this trip long forgotten. "Really, Chris?" she asked, keeping her voice playfully flat. "Really?"

"Really! I mean, check it. It's really, uh, weathering out there. As far as the eye can see."

"Sure is."

"I mean, someone should call the news. This weather? This right here? I mean...someone's gotta report on this stuff, Ash. It's not every day you see something like this." It took him longer than he would've liked, but he scrounged up courage enough to glance her way, feeling his insides do the usual flip-flop as he watched her shake her head, roll her eyes, laugh. It bolstered him enough to swallow that last bit of anxiety down, and that, along with the memory of her lips warm against his, ended the crummy joke. "Also? That was, uh, nice."

Ashley nodded slowly, waging a very similar war inside herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"The kind of nice," he continued, feeling a little bit like one of those bomb defusers crime shows loved using for some reason, "thaaat I could...get used to. I-If you also could...get used to...it, I mean."

She dropped her face into her hands for an instant, still laughing, still nodding, and when she sat back up, she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I could also get used to it, yeah. Super used to it, in fact."

"I - oh! Well. Neat! I guess - "

Which was of course when the slow jams Josh had been piping in over the hidden speakers suddenly cut out, giving way to the evil emcee himself. Whatever he'd used to hook the things up, the connection wasn't great, so there was a staticy, old-timey radio quality to his teasing that only made the situation feel that much more surreal.

"Heeello again, ladies and gents. This is your captain speaking, informing you that you will be reaching the summit - and the scenic Blackwood Pines estate - in about three minutes. Please be sure to dispose of all garbage in the designated receptacles, keep your hands and feet inside the ride and all times, and for the love of Christ, if you haven't already had some gross Hallmark movie moment in there, you better get that shit out of your combined systems NOW, before I have to deal with you for the whole weekend.

"Quick notes to help that process along: Ashley, I'm sure you're wondering whether I found all those darling love poems in the notebook you accidentally left at my place last week. Yes. I did. You're probably also wondering if I have the balls to read them out loud. Yes. I do. And Cochise. Sweet, precious Cochise. This is my reminder to you, my man, that there are appropriate and inappropriate things to say to a lady before, after, and during a romantic embrace. Appropriate things include but are not limited to - wow, you're gorgeous; I've wanted to do this for such a long time; and it's you and me against the world, baby. Inappropriate things, as we've been over many, many times, include - but again, ARE NOT LIMITED TO - hubba hubba awooga; aw geez; and neato!"

Ashley snorted so hard she startled herself, jumping in her seat.

Chris, on the other hand, was less amused. "...I mean technically 'neat' isn't the same as 'neato,' sooo..."

"Now, I didn't think to rig this shit up to be two-way, so I can only assume you're both saying 'Okay Josh, that makes sense Josh, you got it, Josh,' over and over again in there. When you get to this station, God as my witness, there better not be one iota of romantic tension left between you, or - "

The speakers squawked once and died out as they hit a slight bump in the line, but where there had been panic the last time that happened, now there was only relief. Chris turned to Ashley, Ashley turned to Chris, and while their faces were still much too red for how cold it was inside the cable car, things felt absolutely, undoubtedly, utterly perfect.

...for a moment, anyway.

"So...love poems, huh?"

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé 2

Chapter 13: The Plan

I barely slept that night. Partly because the stuffy summer weather had a tendency to crawl into my room and partly because I was so concerned I hadn’t been able to get food down my throat. My stomach was growling furiously where I lay in my bed, upset not only over my skipped breakfast and lunch but also dinner, yet simultaneously, the mere thought of food sickened me.

After all, how could I even think about eating when (Y/N) was missing?

When the 8 am alarm woke me the next day, I doubted I had gotten more than two or three hours of actual sleep. And it felt. My eyes stung like I had thrown acid in them as I washed and got ready for the day - for the meeting - and a pressure underneath my forehead was building steadily up.

Determined to get at least some cereal into my body, I went to the kitchen. Jimin, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin were up and about, but they sent me nothing but hasty smiles as I entered their view. I considered asking Seokjin if Yoongi had returned to their room, but refrained in the end. Even if he wasn’t back, he wouldn’t miss dance practice that day, which meant he wouldn’t miss me.

I think I’ve fallen for (Y/F/N).

My grip around my bowl and spoon tightened as I recalled the events from the day before. Because frankly, (Y/N)’s status hadn’t been the only thing keeping me up all night. I could still not wrap my head around the scenes that had unfolded in the kitchen or in Yoongi’s studio. What the fuck had he be trying to do? I mean, he must have known it would provoke me hearing something like that. It would have provoked anyone.

Despite my anger, however, I couldn’t deny the shame I felt for having punched Yoongi in the face. It ruined the taste of my breakfast. Yet, I was too stubborn to acknowledge it. And so, I forced down the contents of my bowl before my stomach could find the time to protest, then headed out - and toward our dance studio.

Although I would normally have taken a van together with my hyungs, none of them said anything as I unlocked the door and headed out. It was fortunate since I doubted I would have an adequate response, but I was still a bit disappointed that not even Jimin or Taehyung asked me to stay.

During the taxi ride, I browsed the news on my phone. More details surrounding the ongoing investigation regarding Phoenix Inc.’s involvement with the former president had surfaced, and I was disgusted to discover several articles plastered with pictures of (Y/N)’s parents getting off the plane. (Y/N)’s father, who usually portrayed a positive image, bore an uncharacteristically cold guise, while her mother, who seemed to always have her shit very closely and carefully kept together, looked more distraught than I had ever expected to see her. Sympathy rose in my chest; if I was having a difficult time with (Y/N)’s disappearance, they, as parents, had to be on the border of losing it. Plus, with all the uproar rising from the scandal with Phoenix Inc, I couldn’t even imagine being in their shoes.

The dance studio was empty when I arrived. After turning on only the minimum amount of lights, I let out a breath of relief as I got out of my sweatshirt, which was wet from the pouring rain outside, and went to turn on the computer as well as the speakers. When I was done, I connected my phone to the right cable and turned on an old R&B song I felt I could always lean on even when my body wasn’t feeling good.

As the beat began, I felt every muscle in my body relax. I stretched and performed some swift exercises to get my heartbeat and circulation going for a few songs before I went back to the first song and began dancing in earnest. Within seconds, I was gone in my own world, and the experience was so liberating I lost all track of time. It felt like only a few minutes had passed when the door opened and all the lights came on.

My hyungs poured into the dance studio, one by one, and though we greeted each other like any ordinary day, things had definitely changed. The fact that Yoongi and I pretended like we hadn’t seen each other didn’t exactly help. The atmosphere was a lot tenser than normal, and the choreographer must have noticed, for he kept telling us to raise our energy levels. I tried to keep up a good facade, but I was getting so annoyed that I was frankly glad when I told the choreographer I had to leave for a meeting. I felt my hyungs’ eyes on me as I grabbed my water bottle and sweatshirt, particularly Namjoon’s, but did my best to ignore it as I left.

By the time I reached the boardroom, I could overhear small conversations from within the boardroom even though it was still a few minutes left. My heart sank to my feet when I heard Yi-Jae’s bright laughter flutter through the air, and I froze outside the doors, which were slightly ajar.

This was it. I had to do it; I had to speak up for myself.

Inhaling deeply, I gathered myself and slid through the doors. A long table stood in the center of the board room, allowing room for up to sixteen people. Around the end of the table that was furthest away from the door sat three people: Bang Si-Hyuk, Yi-Jae and her head manager, Jung Joo-Sung.

I had never liked Yi-Jae’s head manager. He was needlessly strict about things and had been rude on more than one occasion, both toward me and other people around Yi-Jae. I couldn’t even say anything in response to his behavior either since he was the younger brother of the CEO of ESStar’s company, INU Entertertainment.

All small talk was strangled as their eyes immediately turned my direction. Fighting back a wave of awkwardness, I bowed before I spoke. “Hello.”

“Ah, shut the door after you, Jungkook.” Bang Si-Hyuk gestured toward the chair next to him and opposite Yi-Jae and her manager. “You can sit here.”

Obeying, I hurried over and bowed again before Jung Joo-Sung, who regarded me critically over his frameless glasses, before I sank down. Although I rarely felt cold even when I dressed lightly, a chill crept over my frame, forcing me to put on my sweatshirt.

I felt the weight of Bang Si-Hyuk’s eyes on me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, resisting the urge to take my hand through my hair.

It was quiet for a beat before he continued. “We discussed a bit before you arrived.” He clasped his hands together on the table surface. “And we’ve decided that your--” he looked from Yi-Jae then back at me, “--engagement is going to be officially confirmed.”

Before I could say anything, Jung Joo-Sung interjected.

“Indeed,” he said in a sharp tone I had gotten adjusted to during the previous few times we met. “There’s been plenty of rumors about you two being engaged already. It won’t stir up any trouble if we announce it.”

“I can’t get engaged to her,” I blurted, horrified at the mere thought of it.

A flash of hurt crossed Yi-Jae’s eyes. Nearly drowning in an oversized gray hoodie, Yi-Jae looked thinner than usual. In fact, I could clearly see a difference in her physique compared to last time we met, which was when she’d dropped the pregnancy bomb on me. Her chin and cheekbones were more pronounced than half a year ago, and no amount of makeup in the whole world could hide the dark circles underneath her eyes. On first glance, I would have never been able to tell that she was six months pregnant.

“I don’t know if it’s my child,” I added when Bang Si-Hyuk’s gaze turned inquisitive.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Jung Joo-Sung with a low snort. “Of course it is.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the chair. “I spoke to Kang Shin-Ho yesterday. He confirmed that Yi-Jae cheated on me from the time they were filming the drama to March this year.”

Jung Joo-Sung furrowed his brows and glanced to his side, where Yi-Jae sat. She stared back, completely stunned for what had to be seconds before she reacted.

“He’s lying!” she insisted. “I’ve never done more than speak with him and that was only during filming.”

“He showed me their texts from January,” I said and pulled up my phone. “He even sent me some screenshots of when they agreed to hang out.”

“This is serious,” said Bang Si-Hyuk solemnly and his eyes settled on Yi-Jae. “Is this true?”

Yi-Jae looked desperately up at her manager, but he didn’t budge. Finally, she let out a long sigh and stared down into her lap.

“Alright,” she murmured, her throat thick with emotion. “But that was only because things were going bad between Jungkook and me. I… I would have never reached out to Shin-Ho-oppa otherwise.”

I knew I should have felt bad, especially when she looked at me with tears in her eyes, but I felt nothing. I wasn’t mad at her for cheating on me; I wasn’t relieved that she finally admitted that transgression. I wasn’t disappointed that she’d lied to me; I wasn’t sad that she’d resorted to being with another guy because our relationship wasn’t working out.

In that moment, I just felt empty.

“So, the child…” started Bang Si-Hyuk.

“It’s Jungkook’s,” blurted Yi-Jae with a blush. “I’m a hundred percent certain. I’ve never been with another man.” Her blush deepened.

“But what if it isn’t?” I asked.

Yi-Jae stared at me in disbelief. “Don’t you trust me?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” began Jung Joo-Sung and turned toward Bang Si-Hyuk, “even if it isn’t his child announcing their engagement before the child is born or the rumors get any worse will be the best option for both of our companies. Just imagine the outcry if the child is born and it really is Jungkook’s.”

I wanted to butt in and tell him that it was 2018, but I couldn’t. Not with Bang Shi-Hyuk nodding as solemnly as he did.

“I see your point,” he said. “But what if you’re wrong? If the child isn’t Jungkook’s, your image will crumble. What does your CEO have to say about this?”

“My brother trusts me on this matter,” said Jung Joo-Sung before patting Yi-Jae gently on the shoulder. “And I trust Yi-Jae. She wouldn’t lie to me about something like this.”

“She lied to you about Kang Shin-Ho, didn’t she?” I couldn’t help but say.

Jung Joo-Sung’s eyes narrowed as they found mine, but he said nothing. He didn’t need to either. Bang Si-Hyuk didn’t seem very convinced by my words, and I could see that he was leaning more in the same direction as Yi-Jae’s head manager.

That’s when I decided to finally say it.

“There’s another reason why I can’t get engaged to Yi-Jae.”

Yi-Jae’s focus lifted from her lap, and though her eyes were initially bemused, it didn’t take many seconds for her to realize what I was about to say. Meanwhile, the two men merely seemed confused.

“Go on.”

I cleared my throat and suddenly felt very warm again. “I’m… I…”

“He’s in love with that rich family friend of his. The girl that’s gone missing.”

“ What ?”

I glared at Yi-Jae, but she huffed and looked away. I would have snapped at her, furious over the lack of sympathy in her voice, but was cut off before I could even start.

“So you were cheating on Yi-Jae, too?” asked Jung Joo-Sung, his eyebrows climbing high over his forehead.

“No, actually--”

“Worse,” interrupted Yi-Jae, and though she tried her best to hide it, I very clearly discerned the hurt in her voice. “He used me as some kind of morbid way of making her jealous.”

“Jungkook,” said Bang Si-Hyuk firmly when I paused to calm myself. “You’d better explain yourself now.”

And so I did. Without mentioning my father or other dark details surrounding my childhood, I told them everything about my arranged marriage with (Y/N) but that my feelings long predated the exchanging of rings. Though, I had to admit that it wasn’t with my head held high. Because although Yi-Jae’s words had been sharp, they hadn’t been untrue. They pierced into my heart like tiny needles, harming not only my pride as a guy and person, but also my self-image.

I knew I wasn’t the best there was out there - not even close - but I liked to at least see myself as a good guy. I did what I was told by managers, I practiced as hard as I could both to develop myself as an artist but also an entertainer, and I would always think of my fans. I knew I could be a little immature and selfish and bullheaded at times, but what twenty-year-old - soon-to-be twenty-one-year - wasn’t?

Oh yeah, (Y/N) wasn’t.

Sure, she had a temper and a bit of a violent streak, but she always thought of her parents first, her company second and herself third. And while I had been amnesic, she had put me and my well-being far, far above her own health and opinions. I had hurt her deeply by cheating on her with Yi-Jae, yet still, she had come for me at the hospital in the middle of the night. Yet still, she helped me back on my feet, both figuratively and literally, and returned me onto a path I had dreamed of ever since I was a kid. Looking back, I couldn’t believe how difficult it had to have been for her to handle me in addition to all her other duties.

When I was done, silence befell the boardroom. Yi-Jae’s jaw had dropped sometime during my explanation, but as our eyes locked, she hurriedly closed her mouth and looked elsewhere. She couldn’t hide all of her emotions, however, and I wasn’t surprised to distinguish both shock and confusion and hurt in her eyes. After all, I had never told her the extent of my relationship with (Y/N).

“So,” said Bang Si-Hyuk, eyes wide, “to summarize, you’re currently engaged to Miss (Y/F/N), daughter to the CEO of Phoenix Incorporate?”

“I think she’s already stepped up to the position,” I said. My heart ached at the mention of her name and had ached even while I spoke of her, but I forced the words out anyway. Although (Y/N) was missing, I had to be strong. “And no, we’re not engaged at the moment. But we’re going to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I slanted a sharp look at Jung Joo-Sung. “With all due respect,” I said as politely as I could, “I think you’re a bit out of line saying something like that. I’m not even a part of your company.”

Jung Joo-Sung took off his frameless glasses to polish them but his eyes never strayed from mine. “I’m thinking about your career,” he said in a tone that would have, in any other circumstance, resembled gentleness and perhaps even sympathy. However, all I heard was the distaste lacing every syllable as he continued. “And of course, the image of your company.” He nodded toward Bang Si-Hyuk.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not bothering to cloak the ice in my voice.

“Haven’t you seen the news lately?”

“I have, actually.”

“Then you should know that Phoenix Incorporate is in a catastrophic situation right now,” said Jung Joo-Sung, aiming his words perhaps more at Bang Si-Hyuk than me. “Not only are their stocks dropping like dog feces, affiliating with them will make everything too politically charged. And although I can understand that you would like to live an easy life and marry the currently richest heiress in South Korea, she’s going to lose all of her company’s holdings and money if the investigation continues to uncover more dirt about their illegal trading business and bribery.”

I swallowed my initial retort, which involved an insult - or ten - and had to pause to breathe before replying. “It’s not about the money or influence,” I said through gritted teeth, then looked at both Yi-Jae and Bang Si-Hyuk, not understanding how they could listen to Jung Joo-Sung talking without reacting. I could see that Bang Si-Hyuk was calculating something in silence as he regarded Yi-Jae’s manager, but Yi-Jae wore an almost insultingly innocent look. As if she didn’t understand - or didn’t want to understand - just how weird the conversation suddenly had become.

“Then what?”

“As Yi-Jae just said,” I said venomously, “it’s about love. I love (Y/F/N), and I’m not going to let her go. Especially not when she’s gone missing.”

“Listen to him,” said Jung Joo-Sung and gave Bang Si-Hyuk an apologetic look. “Young people these days…” When the latter wouldn’t respond, he merely sighed and shifted his attention back toward me. “Look, Jungkook, don’t you understand what I’m trying to do? I’m just trying to help you keep your and your company’s image clean, as well as Yi-Jae’s and ESStar’s and INU Entertainment, alright? I want to help you. And come on, just like you wouldn’t want to board a sinking ship, you shouldn’t want to get near anything even remotely close to Phoenix Inc. and Miss (Y/F/N) and her parents - her father in particular.”

I was standing before I knew it and slammed my palms against the table surface. “Did you seriously just compare (Y/N) and her parents to a sinking ship?” I demanded, anger rushing through my veins like fiery alcohol. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Taken aback by my sudden outburst, Jung Joo-Sung sat glued to his chair, as far away from me as he could get. The fact that he was obviously frightened almost triggered me further. How could he be scared after the bullshit he had just told��me? I was a hair’s width away from stepping around the table in order to punch the man but was interrupted - fortunately, or unfortunately - by Bang Si-Hyuk.

“Enough!”

He, too, stood and held out his arm toward me. His face was hard, but underneath his fury, I saw that he was just as startled as Jung Joo-Sung - and even Yi-Jae. She hadn’t uttered a single noise for a while now, and now stared up at me with her eyes wide open.

Before I could say or do something that I would maybe regret, I stalked out of the boardroom. Behind me, I heard Bang Si-Hyuk call for me, but I ignored him and stormed down the hallway, desperate to get away from Jung Jo-Sung - and the horrible, horrible feeling his words had incited within me.

For there was a part of me that couldn’t help but agree.

“Jungkook!”

I didn’t get very far before Yi-Jae caught up to me. She managed to grab my wrist, but I tore myself free without an issue. Refusing to look back despite her pleading, I continued toward the elevators, needing fresh air as soon as possible. Before I went back to the boardroom and did something I would definitely regret.

Unfortunately, what with elevators being what they were, I couldn’t get away from Yi-Jae in time. She slipped inside the car just before the doors closed, wincing slightly when her hoodie momentarily came in contact with the metal. Breathless, she leaned over on her knees as she looked up at me.

“You didn’t have to get so upset,” she said, her fine brows knitting together above her defined nose bridge. “I know he can sound a bit nonchalant, but Joo-Sung-manager was only trying to be honest. And he wouldn’t try that if he didn’t care about you.”

“He cares about you ,” I snarled, unable to stop myself from answering even though I inwardly had promised to stay quiet.

“Yeah, but he knows I care about you so that makes you his priority as well.”

I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s some bullshit.”

“Jungkook--”

“Just leave me be. I need air; I don’t need you.”

Yi-Jae opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. She tucked her hair, which she had colored black at the beginning of summer, behind her ears and glanced at the elevator buttons.

Then, without warning, she slammed the emergency STOP button with the flat of her hand.

As the elevator came to a rough halt, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. “What the hell are you doing?” I exclaimed, admittedly with more fear in my voice than I had hoped.

“You and I need to talk.”

I stared at her. “Did you really have to lock me into an elevator to do that?” I wondered, completely incredulous. “What if you destroyed the settings? What if we can’t get out of here?”

Yi-Jae frowned. “Well, if you wouldn’t always try to avoid my texts and calls, this wouldn’t have happened! Damn it, Jungkook, last time I saw you was when I told you about my pregnancy!”

Without answering, I started toward the elevator buttons but she stepped in between. “I’m not letting you touch those buttons until we’ve talked,” she said sternly.

I considered darting past her, but since I didn’t want to risk hurting her, I stayed back. “Are all pregnant women this crazy?” I asked instead.

Her eyes narrowed. “Only when they have a childish and selfish boyfriend.”

There it was again: childish. And a majority of me pushed it out of mind. It was nothing more than a mere coincidence that Yoongi and Yi-Jae both had used that word to describe me.

Yet, there was still a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder if they might actually be right.

“Fine.” I backed away until I hit the wall furthest away from Yi-Jae. “Let’s just get this over with. What do you want?”

“Do you have to talk to me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me,” she said quietly.

Guilt pierced my heart. “I don’t hate you,” I said truthfully and in a lot gentler voice. “It’s just…”

Yi-Jae’s gaze dropped to the elevator floor and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, right,” she said as she chuckled joylessly. “You… let’s say dislike me because it seems like I’m constantly getting in the way of you and (Y/N).”

It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t a conjecture; it was a simple statement. And a true one.

“Yeah,” I admitted after a pause. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

One of Yi-Jae’s hands flew up to her face and she whirled away from me. A stifled whimper still managed to escape the confines of her fingers, however, and I instantly felt worse for confessing what I had struggled to keep inside ever since I first met her.

“I…” Unsure of whether to approach her or not, I simply stood still. “I’m sorry.”

There was a snort but Yi-Jae wouldn’t turn around yet. “Is that all you’ve got?” she asked with a sniffle. “You’ve played with my heart and my body for more than two years, and this is the apology I get? The apology you think I deserve?”

I pursed my lips. “I really am sorry. What else am I supposed to say?”

Yi-Jae wiped her face but her eyes were still glittering with dampness as she peered over her shoulder. “That you feel something for me. That I mean something to you.”

I swallowed. “But I really don’t feel anything for you. I never have.”

“You’re lying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her dismissively. “I… I love (Y/N). I always have. That’s all there is to it.”

Yi-Jae flinched but she didn’t back down. Instead, she turned around fully and took a tentative step toward me.

“I’m not saying that you aren’t in love with her.” She couldn’t hide the pain that her sentence inflicted on her but that didn’t stop her from steadily eliminating more and more space between us. “I’m just saying that that doesn’t mean you feel nothing for me.”

“What are you trying to say?”

She suddenly blushed and averted her gaze, stopping half an arm’s length away from me. “I think you’re lying when you say that you’ve never loved me. I think you’re lying when you say that you still don’t feel anything for me.”

For some reason, my heart started beating faster at this. “I’m not,” I said, however.

Her eyes flickered up to meet mine. She regarded me closely for a few seconds, then shook her head. “You’re a really bad liar. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

I stiffened. “No,” I lied.

Despite her teary eyes, a giggle still escaped her lips. “Wow, you’re really bad at it. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed it before.”

“Stop this,” I said, more out of fear of my own involuntary reaction than anything else. My heart was probably just acting up because I was exhausted from the inside out. Not because of what Yi-Jae said. Because I couldn’t, I just fucking couldn’t feel anything for her.

Right?

“Jungkook, can you really look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing, absolutely nothing, for me?”

“Of course.”

“Then do it,” she challenged. “Prove that you feel nothing for me.”

“How?”

A small smile spread across her lips. “Kiss me.”

“Very funny.”

Before I slip away and gain some distance, Yi-Jae spoke. “If you kiss me and can tell me honestly that you feel nothing for me, I’ll end all of this. There will be absolutely no talk of engagement from my side and I’ll tell Joo-Sung-manager to try his best and convince Bang Si-Hyuk-huijang-nim.”

I frowned. “But you’ll still force me to be in a relationship with you, right?”

“It’s your son,” answered Yi-Jae instantly, seemingly repelled by my response. “How can you not want to take care of your own child?”

I clenched my jaws. Yi-Jae was offering a gift from the heavens, really. So long as I kissed her one final time and told her I felt nothing for her, I could avoid an engagement with her. And she was right about the child. I was nowhere near mature enough to even consider having a child - to be completely honest, I would have preferred a life completely childless. Comfortability aside, there was this horrible weight on my shoulder as soon as I thought of a baby or kid. The kind of weight no exercise or sleep or fun in the whole world could disintegrate.

Fortunately, there was a smart and easy solution to the child issue.

“I want a paternity test done,” I said. “And I want it done as soon and quickly as possible.”

“Deal.”

For a millisecond, Yi-Jae had hesitated before answering. But the pause went by so quickly, it could have just been my imagination.

“Also,” I said, “I want you to know that our relationship will end the very second I find out the child isn’t mine.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Yi-Jae smiled as she gazed down at her stomach, which was barely noticeable underneath her thick gray hoodie. It wasn’t until when she caressed her midsection that I discerned the slight bump. “He’s yours, I’m a hundred percent sure.”

“I mean it,” I said coolly. Any other guy would have probably felt something more toward the heartwarming side at the thought of their firstborn. And though I wasn’t exactly disgusted, the thought of a child frankly horrified me. “No matter what happens here and now, you and I will be history if someone else is the father.”

Yi-Jae’s eyes were round when they found mine again. “Wait, did you just admit that something might happen right now?”

I swore inwardly. “I was just trying to be as clear as possible,” I lied.

Yi-Jae’s smile widened. “You’re lying again.”

“All I need to do is kiss you, right?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Kiss me and tell me you don’t have any feelings for me,” she murmured. “Kiss me and tell me the truth.”

I didn’t respond. I was too scared of what my voice would relief if I did. For as soon as I began bending down, I almost jolted in shock. The movement was so natural, so… obvious . It was like I didn’t even have to think about it.

I didn’t even have to think about kissing Yi-Jae.

And despite the fact that I had only gotten involved with Yi-Jae in an attempt to flee from my growing feelings for (Y/N), that wasn’t the case. Not right then. And though our lips touched only momentarily, forming nothing more than a gentle kiss, that in itself said so much more. If I were inexperienced, it would have been awkward and perhaps longer than necessary. If I were appalled by Yi-Jae, it would have been no more than a peck, something even children could exchange.

If I were indifferent to her, I wouldn’t have had a tiny spark ignite within me as soon as our lips locked.

I almost laughed out loud. Was I intentionally trying to fuck myself? Why couldn’t I ever be consistent with what I said and did and felt?

Why couldn’t I be faithful even now when (Y/N) was who the fuck knows where?

When I withdrew, I was on the border of crying. Not because I was sad or upset - I was frustrated. Beyond frustrated. Because how could I tell Yi-Jae I felt nothing? How could I feel something for her when I loved (Y/N)?

How could I lie?

Yi-Jae’s face was flushed and a triumphant light shone in her eyes. She must have probably gauged the answer on my face, however, she said nothing as I turned away from her. If it was out of shock or happiness, I did not know. Either way, I was glad for her silent patience since it allowed me enough time and space to get my mind sorted. I didn’t speak until I was completely sure of what I wanted to have said.

Until I had a plan.

I knew I had to make some kind of public announcement regarding Yi-Jae’s pregnancy, especially since we were “together”. But I couldn’t tell people the truth, which was that I honestly did not know whether the child was mine or not. It would harm the reputation of everyone that was involved - but mostly Yi-Jae. In fact, I was pretty sure it would ruin her career if people found out she had cheated on me as well as gotten a child out of that affair, and that was the last thing I wanted. Because even though that was an archaic way of thinking, I couldn’t deny that it was still very much the main opinion in South Korea yet.

On the other hand, I didn’t want to lie - okay, it might not be a complete lie, but I wouldn’t be telling the public the truth either - and straight out say that the child was mine. Announcing that I was having a child would hurt my image and fans, and I didn’t need news sites reporting on all the details of the child instead of our upcoming album and promotions. However, these were still the least of my problems.

What would (Y/N) think about Yi-Jae’s pregnancy?

And yet, despite all of the above, I couldn’t exactly deny the existence of the child. That would be the worst thing I could do. It would seem like I shied away from responsibility - especially if the child actually proved to be mine.

That would ruin my career.

“Fine,” I said finally and rubbed my nose bridge. “I can’t believe I’m saying this… but let’s get engaged.”

“ Really ?” Yi-Jae sounded skeptical, stunned and overjoyed, all at the same time.

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it all. Get out on talk shows, do interviews - everything. But only on one condition.”

“Anything.”

And so I told her that condition. Even though Yi-Jae tried to protest at first, I refused to back down. I even made a voice recording and told her I would get a lawyer involved unless she followed through on her part. When we finally came to an agreement, she wrapped her arms around me - and I let her.

It was a bit tricky to get the elevator going again, but Yi-Jae managed to get it going before my worry could turn into anxiousness. We returned to the boardroom where I announced the engagement to both Jung Joo-Sung and Bang Si-Hyuk, who both seemed pleasantly surprised over the quick development. Yi-Jae was beaming, and judging by the startled looks I received from all of my hyungs - except for Yoongi - when I returned to the dance studio, so was I.

But inwardly, I was terrified. I had regretted my decision as soon as I opened my mouth in the elevator. As soon as I announced the engagement in the boardroom before both Jung Joo-Sung and Bang Si-Hyuk. As soon as I saw Yoongi’s unreadable guise.

And although I wasn’t the religious type, I sent a prayer that night to whoever might hear that (Y/N) would understand and forgive me - and that my plan would be successful.

[eject91]

Oh yeahs and oh noes. Started stepping up my audio setup, or rather getting my first components for a setup. My coworker is a 70-80% done audiophiliac, with some good few thousands in his setup. He finally succeeded in urging me to replace my sony 5.1 system with the little front soundbar. Got the yamaha rx v6a receiver, and used 14 year old tannoy mercury f speakers (coworker said they're the best he can find in the marketplace - 7 hour journey to get them) for starters. Holy shit, so good, and what a deep hole.

Unbelievably rich and deep sound from just 2 speakers. Couldn't even connect the sony sub, which is an all in one amp, receiver for all the speakers, thought I'll connect rca cable to the analog in, but turns out it's a 3.5mm jack, so uuuhh. The speakers tho give such a deep and wide sound that a sub is nearly unnecessary, just a plus. Also got the shittiest, pretty sure not even copper, likely copper coated aluminium wires, but they were the only available ones from where I picked up the receiver. Didn't even test out tidal yet, so there's still much more to be easily gained. So for now need to get better wires, and then get a sub, all the surround speakers, dolby atmos speakers, might even try getting a vinyl record player, tho I know it's not gonna be a good return in quality, but idk.

[ms-demeanor]

Seriously fuck apple hardware and their hinges that break monitor cables and their butterfly keys and their 24-step battery replacement process that involves *removing your goddamned speakers* to replace the battery.

Fuck. That.

Fuck their specialized Apple screwdrivers

And their bullshit expensive replacement parts.

Two weeks ago I added RAM to my new laptop and it took about four minutes.

I just now replaced the fan on my old laptop while I was on a call with a vendor.

Both of those things used the same phillips-head screwdriver that I got in a pack of three for a dollar fifty at daiso. And I didn't have to *use a hairdryer to soften the adhesive on my speakers* to access either of those parts, let alone a part as basic and as likely to fail as a fucking battery. Hell, I opened up my new laptop and found out that there's a spot for me to put in a second SSD with a similarly small amount of effort.

But while I'm here:

Fuck modern cars. Fuck the engine covers with breakable pins that make it a pain in the ass to do anything more than checking the oil. Fuck the use of tablets as an interface for dealing with the car. Fuck proprietary RFID key fobs and fuck tire monitoring systems that'll make you fail a smog check.

Fuck cheaply made clothing that won't last more than a couple dozen wears but is so thin and flimsy that it also can't handle being mended.

Fuck printers that require a subscription for ink every three months even if you aren't out of ink, because they'll say you're out of ink because they disable the cartridges after a certain time no matter how much or how little you've printed.

Fuck printers generally, they're such cheap and horrible pieces of garbage at the consumer level that it's usually less expensive to buy a new printer than it is to replace cartridges, and it's usually cheap to replace the rollers but the printer is such shit that your odds of snapping off some fiddly piece of plastic garbage are about 50/50 even if you do know what you're doing.

Fuck all of this shit. You should be able to fix what you own, and if you can't or don't want to learn how to, you should at least have the option to try without becoming a professional.

I keep seeing that post about wanting packaged delivered slower by happier, safer, better-paid workers and first of all: Fuck yes. But also: I want clunkier, heavier technology that is easier to fix.

If I needed a laptop that could fit into a manila envelope I would get a fucking tablet, what I need is a laptop that has some actual computing power and that I can swap the hard drive on in less than forty minutes.

The cellphone I had five years ago had a smaller screen and a thicker case, but I could replace the battery with my thumb as the only tool, and with some effort (less than it would require now) I could replace the whole screen. I don't need a seven inch screen and four cameras on the back and a thin, lightweight case, the phone that was the size of my palm and half an inch thick was fine and LOOK I know a lot of the components have become smaller; why did we move to slimmer cases instead of keeping the thicker ones that anyone could crack open to swap in a SIM or replace the battery? You could have BIGGER batteries, with longer lifespans if you still had thicker cases and smaller screens and then maybe this piece of shit phone would fit in any single pocket on my clothing instead of hanging halfway out and trying to make a dive onto the ground every time I stand up.

I don't like the attitude of "stuff in the old days used to just WORK" - in some ways it's true, in some ways it isn't. Cars in the old days certainly did NOT just used to work. But it used to be a fuck of a lot easier to get into an engine and *fix it* without having to get an entire collection of vehicle-specific tools and half a computer science degree. Printers have never, in the existence of printers, "just worked" but they didn't stop printing because of a programmed date on a chip in the fucking cartridge.

A lot of hardware from today is fine. SSDs are pretty great, and there are new manufactured hard drives that I know are going to last thirty years, just like the 40MB drive from 1987 that a customer brought into my shop a few years ago.

There are people out there who are making good stuff.

But it's so fucking frustrating the way that it feels like you have to fight to find something that isn't just the absolute shittiest piece of garbage. The amount of stuff out there that is flimsy, likely to fail, and only-user-serviceable-if-the-user-is-already-technically-proficient is really, really upsetting.

[dhmisreolrants]

Some DHMIS Headcannons about the teachers (mostly the webseries ones) because im bored and sick lmao- (part 1???? dunno???)

Sketchbook/Paige Hcs: 1 - They're probably pretty sensitive to sun light (Sun light fucks up paper if left too long there), So they mostly like to just chill inside the house- 2 - Uses both They/Them and She/Her pronouns, But still identifies as Nb 3 - Probably not that much of a speaker when with strangers, But when they're with friends, It's like not even fix tape would fucking shut them up/j (which i consider a nice trait tbh) 4 - Has a sort of sibling relationship with Tony- I just like imagining them acting as siblings that are constantly on each other's stuff to annoy lmao 5 - If they where a human, Would probably be albine/Have albinism- (Im gonna probably use this for gijinkas later jnhbjdssfg-) 6 - Stims using their pencil alot- Like tapping it or just straight up chomping it- Tony Hcs: 1 - Acts like he is tough/stubborn outside, But is probably a softie deep inside- 2 - I do imagine him using a cane sometimes- But he still can move "well" without it- (old man behaviour) 3 - Has a alternative form like Colin's digital form- With his body being like a smaller grandfather clock- 4 - Stims by just tapping his feet (like how one do when waiting or getting frustated-) or by constantly fixing his bowtie- 5 - Also, Talking about bowties- He probably has a hobbie of collecting customized ones- He just loves when people gift him new bowties Colin Hcs (oh this is gonna be alot): 1 - To start well; He can purr. Next point. 2 - Plays alot with his lil cable tail when bored or anxious 3 - For some reason i cant not imagine his behaviour being sometimes the mix of cat and dog- (Basically lazy fuck but that needs attention all the time)/j 4 - If was human, He would totally not have an arm or have a prothestic arm where his pointer (is this how u call that lil thing??) arm is- 5 - Is really bad at hidding his jealousy or just- emotions in general because of his screen that makes him pull out a queen from DT and show what he is thinking 6 - Y'know how windows error messages have that annoying loud sound? ...he can do that sound, whenever he wants and whenever he needs- so he uses it to annoy the shit out of everyone! 7 - His birthday is probably in the same day and year as the day the internet was created (1/1/1983), So he is actually 40 this year! 8 - Cat behaviour list fuck it; - Imagine if he stretches himself like a cat- - I still need to add this to my desing of him but; Probably has an eye different from another, To look like cat eyes- (that looks like 0 and 1) - By the sake of chaos; Will slowly push stuff to fall and then STARE at you for seconds like "what are you gonna do anyway?" after the thing falls to the ground- 9 - "Oh, But why so many cat/dog related hcs with him?" It's because every programmer is a furr-/j source: im a programmer myself--/j/j/j

----- Yea this is gonna need a second part if im gonna do all teachers kmjnhbnsakfgd-

[aerynwrites]

Dance the Night Away

Baron Zemo x F!Reader

A/N: So I asked for requests and you all shall receive! First time writing for Zemo so I hope you al enjoy. I also just kind of took some liberties with this request so I hope you still like it nonny! I have a Sam Wilson x F!Reader piece in the works next as well!

Request: Maybe for a Zemo fic - you were someone he danced with at Sharon’s place, and it’s just a little drabble about the two you having a little fun on the dance floor! I can imagine him being all cute and shit - requested by Anon

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Flirting, suggestive dancing (if you squint), fluff.

Possible spoilers for TFATWS Episode 3

Madripoor had become a place of comfort for you despite its purpose and reputation. You had made a small name for yourself here - earning the respect of your fellow peers in the high town of the city. That’s actually how you ended up dancing to the beat of loud music at a party held by Sharon Carter.

Since coming here you had acquired quite the taste for fine arts and became fast friends with the former Shield Agent. You had been to many parties held at her place, each of them similar to the last. However, this one was different. You had noticed Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes as soon as they walked in with the infamous Baron Zemo. You knew then that this night would become interesting very quickly. Soon after they entered and melded with the dancing crowd, you started to make your way to the bar. However, as you made it to an opening on the dance floor, you saw the Baron dancing - albeit terribly - on the dance floor. 

So you took your chance.

You strode over to him, before quickly eliminating the space between you as you began to dance next to him, leaning over to yell over the music.

“For being in a club you have a very interesting way of dancing!” you tease, continuing to move your body to the beats thrumming through the air. 

The Baron turns to face you, continuing to move as he calls back, “Yet, you were still drawn to me, of all the people.”

You send him a small smirk, “It seems that way,” you say back before leaning just a bit closer so you can speak into his ear and make it easier on the both of you, “So, are you going to ask me to dance or what, Baron?” 

When you pull away, Zemo is sending you a small smile before he’s reaching out and placing his hands on your hips while you place yours on his shoulders, both of you moving in sync with the music now. 

Contrary to what you saw earlier, Zemo is quite the dancer when he has a partner. His hands are firm on your hips as you sway them to the beat, and his body is agile as he moves along with you, just a mere hair’s breadth away from you as the music flows out of the speakers. However, this position doesn’t last long before Zemo is turning you around in his arms, and pulling your back against this chest, both of you still keeping the dance going. 

You can’t help the surprise that runs through you at the change of pace. From how he was dancing earlier, you never would have taken him for the type to initiate this type of dancing. But you go along with it nonetheless. 

“You know,” you call, smiling as he leans his head down to hear you better, “I never would have taken you to like this kind of dancing,” you say honestly, a smirk tugging at your lips as you both continue to dance, Zemo pulling you tighter to him. 

“Well then,” he says, voice low and gravelly, “You must not know me as well as you think you do.”

At this comment you pull out of his grip and turn to face him again, arms wrapping around his neck this time in order to keep him close as your lips brush against his ear. “Why don’t you let me get to know you better then? Maybe over a drink?”

You have to hold back the smile that threatens to erupt at the slightly surprised look in his brown eyes when you pull away to look at him. The surprise soon gives way into the familiar confident smirk he’s held most of the night and he offers you a single nod. 

“A drink sounds lovely,” he agrees, taking your arms from around his neck to instead take your hand in own, “Lead the way,” he gestures with his free hand towards the bar. 

You don’t hesitate as you start to pull yourself and your new companion towards the bar, pushing past all the writhing bodies until you finally find an open spot at the bar top. Once you do, you wave down the bartender and ask for two shots of your usual, letting out a laugh at the impressed look on Zemo’s face as he leans against the counter.

“What?” you question, mimicking his stance.

He waves a hand, “It’s nothing,” he says simply, “I just took you for more of a...fruity cocktail type.”

You roll your eyes just as the bartender brings over the pair of shots, giving you a small nod before moving on to the next patron. You take your glass, as does Zemo and then you respond, “Do you really think anyone who lives in Madripoor is a fruity drink person?” you ask, brow raised

The man smiles at that, “You have a point, I suppose.”

You chuckle and nod, before lifting your glass in the air, “To new friends and interesting dancing partners,” you say, sending the man a mischievous look.

Zemo returns the glance before clinking his glass with yours, “To new friends and dancing partners,” he repeats before you both down the shot. 

Both of you grimace, before looking up to one another and letting out a round of quiet chuckles. “I never said it was good,” you point out, “Just a good way to take the edge off.”

Zemo nods at that, and he looks like he’s about to say something before his companions from earlier emerge from the crowd. Bucky places a rough hand on his shoulder, forcibly grabbing his attention.

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you,” he calls out, a frustrated expression on his face.

“Miss Carter told us to enjoy the party, no?” he says, gesturing to you while you take the small moment of interruption to snag a cocktail napkin and pen from the person beside you, “I was simply following her instructions when I happened upon this wonderful woman next to me,” he explains, pulling your attention away from your scribbling, “And who was I to deny her a dance?”

You see Sam roll his eyes, before casting you a cautious glance, “He’s not bothering you, right?”

You send him a smile and shake your head, “Quite the opposite,” you tell him truthfully, “The Baron and I were just getting to know each other is all.”

Zemo goes to add on but Bucky cuts him off, hand still latched firmly on his shoulder, “Time to go.”

Zemo simply shrugs his shoulder before reaching out and taking your free hand in his own. He leans down and places a quick kiss to your knuckles, causing heat to rise to your cheeks as you look over at him.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening…” you see a confused expression tug at his brow when he just now seems to realize he never got your name. 

You pull your hand from his, grabbing the cocktail napkin from the counter before leaning in and offering your name to him. You then place the napkin in his hand and leave a quick peck on his cheek before leaning back into your seat.

“The pleasure was all mine, Baron.” 

That is the last thing that is able to be said before the two men pull Zemo away from you, but not before he catches your small smile as you watch after him. He hears Bucky and Sam bickering once more, and takes their moment of distraction to look down at the thin paper in his hand. He smiles when he sees your name and phone number scribbled on the fragile napkin with the small message at the bottom.

You own me another dance - xoxo

The man smirks as he stuffs the napkin in his back pocket. He has every intention of fulfilling that request as soon as he’s able.

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

This is so long and so angsty, and I am so sorry! Also, I took the “Music” prompt a bit loosely and based this off music lyrics? Hope that counts. Song is I Do by Wild Rivers :) @nessianweek

My sweater on your bedroom floor, you can take that // You don’t want my love no more, honey I can shake that

Cassian swallows down a sigh as he opens up the trash bag in his hands. The crinkle of it as he shakes it out is especially loud in the quiet of his bedroom, like a crack of thunder ringing in his ears. Leave it to Mor to demand that he “spring clean” and “finally get rid of that shit you hoard” only to bustle out of his apartment without even an offer to help. 

The living room had been an easy place to start. The photos had been one of the first things he had removed post-breakup, so there wasn’t much left out there anyways. But his bedroom. Well, he isn’t sure the last time he'd really gone through his closet. 

He opens the doors to find various clothing and items strewn about haphazardly. Some are on hangers, some are stuffed onto the shelf above, and a good chunk litter the floor. He tries to organize as he goes, pulling out and sorting through the different items to decide which to keep and which to donate. He’s sifting through the pile on the floor when his hand brushes against something soft and somehow familiar. With a tug, he comes face to face with a small cream colored sweater. The sight of it has him falling back onto his ass, his breath hitching as he runs his thumb along the cable knit pattern. 

If he closes his eyes, he can see them here, see her in this very sweater. He can feel the sweater under his palms as he slides his hands over her waist, feel the delicious warmth of her skin as slips his fingers under the hem. He can hear her laughter in his ear, like a favorite song he wants to bottle up and play on loop, as he presses kisses to her neck and behind her ear. 

Cassian digs the palms of his hands into his eyes like he can scrub the image from behind them, but all it does it make his chest ache. Like a damn full of splintering cracks, barely held together with tape. He can feel that familiar thickness clawing its way into his throat, and he can’t take it. He tosses the sweater into the trash bag and heads for the kitchen, desperate for a beer. 

I come, you go, back around back around // I see your ghost on a train downtown

Downtown is a mess as always. All Nesta can think about is a glass of wine, the chocolate cake in her fridge that she picked up from Trader Joe’s, and the next chapter of her book waiting for her on her nightstand. But instead, she’s weaving her way through busybodies and tourists who don’t know how to stand on the right and walk on the left. 

Once she gets through the crowds, she walks with practiced ease to the platform she needs, scrolling aimlessly through the array of texts from her sisters and friends from earlier today. She sends off a quick reply to Gwyn and Emerie before sliding her phone back into her bag. She turns to look at the board above the platform to check the wait time of the next train when her eyes catch on something else. Someone else. 

The sight of broad shoulders and a tangle of curls corralled into a top bun has Nesta’s heart stuttering to a painful stop and clenching hard deep between her ribs. She can already feel that all too familiar prick pressing in behind her eyes, threatening release. She can practically hear his laughter from here, loud and booming and so full of life, as he throws his head back.  

All it takes is one thought to send her spiraling back. Back to a calloused hand sliding against her own, fingers curled firmly around hers. Warm. Safe. It takes her back to a nose brushing against her hair at her temple, that laughter in her ear, a promise that screaming at passing trains is the best form of therapy. 

Nesta has to turn away and press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked sound trying to spill forth. When she looks back down the platform, he’s gone, and all Nesta feels is the hollowness pressing in on all sides. 

It’s just a baseball cap, I ain’t even missing // And a Springsteen track, I don’t listen 

Cassian’s late. He knows it. Azriel is going to kill him if he’s not out the door soon. He does another quick check around his room, pulling out drawers in his dresser and even checking under his bed. And then it hits him, a flash behind his eyes harder than a slap across the face. 

It’s the hat being placed on a head of golden brown waves. It’s a soft press of lips against his own and lithe arms winding around his neck. It’s a mumble of “it looks better on me anyways” and clear eyes piercing into his own, deep and smokey blue and glinting like the roiling ocean under a setting sun. 

Cassian has to clench and unclench his fists a few times to get his head right, but then he’s pulling open his closet doors and digging out a different hat to throw over his mess of hair. He snags his keys and sails out the door to his car. When he turns the key in the ignition, the radio hums to life, the familiar lyrics of Springsteen flooding out of the speakers. Cassian almost wants to laugh at his luck. It would be this song. 

Even with Springsteen’s vocals blaring, all Cassian can hear is his own voice singing along, purposefully off-key, her laughter-filled pleas for him to stop as she reaches across and tries to stifle the sounds with her hand over his mouth. With a hard jam of his finger, the radio cuts out. Cassian takes a deep breath, throws the car in reverse, and drives in silence the rest of the way. 

It's just an old habit, I don't gotta kick // Or your best friends' pictures, I don't check 'em

The pile of blankets atop Nesta is the only armor she needs. She curls her body and burrows deeper into them as she opens Instagram on her phone, the small rectangle the only light in her otherwise dark bedroom. She takes a few moments to scroll through the posts on her feed and click through some Stories, but there’s no beating around the bush. She knows why she’s here. 

Her finger hesitates for only a moment over the search button at the bottom of her screen, but then she’s selecting it. It only takes her typing in the “A” before the page comes up, and Nesta refuses to let the shame threatening to heat her skin win at what that means. She clicks on the first picture, taking in the wide smiles, the arms slung casually over shoulders. Nesta bites her lip so hard, that tangy metallic taste floods her tongue. 

She shuts her phone off abruptly, tossing it onto her nightstand before rolling over. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around herself, focusing on the phantom feel of different arms holding her close and warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can feel the press against her back with each breath he took, feel the words “I love you” whispered against her spine. 

Now I'm driving by the place we met // Could you go there?

Cassian’s so distracted, he doesn’t even realize he missed the turn for his apartment. He’s not even fully sure where he’s going until the familiarity starts to sink in. It’s too easy to pull up alongside and throw his car into park. At this hour, it’s all dark through the large windows, but there’s no mistaking the small wooden tables with the chairs stacked atop them. The register and the glass display case. The chalkboard declaring the seasonal drink specials in bright colors and swirling writing. 

Cassian can still taste the sweetness of her drink against his tongue. Can still see her pointedly raised eyebrow and unimpressed frown like it’s branded at the molecular level of his brain. Those eyes cutting through him from the minute they locked with his own. That lilting voice of hers still ringing in his ears and asking him what he thought he was doing with her drink.  

Cassian grips the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turn white, letting his head drop until his forehead meets the leather. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s throwing the car back into drive, letting the coffeeshop fade away in the rearview mirror. 

Now you wanna talk? // Babe I don't care

“Nesta.”

It’s a simple sound. Just her name. But in that soft timbre, in that voice that Nesta’s heard rumble through his chest, it makes her blood freeze over. She knew she never should have agreed to come to this garden party. As soon as the text came through from Feyre, she should have declined. But that voice in the back of her mind, it had niggled, it had gnawed, it had climbed to the forefront, and now she’s standing in Feyre’s backyard, a cup of some sort of punch clutched between her hands and Cassian approaching her.  

“You look good,” he says once in front of her. 

Nesta is sure that has to be a lie. All she feels is weighed down, like every second of every day is spent trudging through thick mud. Concealer can work wonders, but it’s no miracle worker. And with him standing this close, close enough for Nesta to feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off his frame, to smell that combination of fabric softener, cologne, and just him. All she can think about is the air stuttering through her lungs. 

At her silence, Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So, how have you been?” 

It’s casual, and Cassian throws an easy grin her way as he says it. Nesta hates it. She hates the way that he does look good. Hates the happy ease he didn’t even have to try to muster or pretend when he arrived, hugging and laughing with their families. Hates that she can tell the laughter lines around his eyes have gotten deeper. 

“No,” Nesta says, turning on her heel abruptly and heading back toward the house. 

She hears Cassian call after her, but she doesn’t stop. She’s surprised the whole backyard doesn’t hear the crack resounding from her chest, leaving shards of glass embedded deep in the skin. 

I see you out in a bar downtown, but you look so different like you don't go thinking, but I do

Cassian watches the ice cubes bubble and clink in his glass of whiskey. He gives the glass another swirl before throwing the amber liquid back, reveling in the burn against his throat. He tosses a couple bills onto the bar-top and slides off the stool with a sigh. He turns toward the exit but his eyes catch on the other end of the bar. 

Nesta is there, and Cassian’s entire body feels like it’s been set on fire as he takes her in, the gentle waves tumbling over her shoulders, the small black dress clinging to her every curve. He recognizes Gwyn and Emerie standing with her. He sees her laugh at something one of them says. Over the music and the crowds of the bar, he can't hear it, but it still rips through his chest like an arrow. Before he can even make a conscious decision, his legs are carrying him toward her, always toward her, like a ship brought home to safety by a lighthouse. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says once he steps up behind her. 

She turns and looks up at him, and his breath hitches in his chest all over again. His fingers itch to brush the hair away from her face, tuck it behind her ear and run the pads of his fingers through the ends. Her eyes are guarded and it makes his gut twist, urging him to press his lips against her skin until that look melts away like it used to. Maybe if he’d had another glass of whiskey he’d be feeling more brave. But the alcohol thrumming in his veins gives him enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning a hole through his head and heart. 

“Do you ever think about us?” he asks, voice quiet and just for them. 

A silence settles between them, but it’s charged, like even in this crowded downtown bar, everyone is holding their breath, waiting with baited anticipation. As the seconds tick by, Cassian begins to wonder if she’ll even answer, if he’s made a mistake, but then her hand is reaching up, smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. 

“I do.”

[the8gates]

PLEASE I beg for any fluff between Burnouts Obito x Atsuko. Does he remember her favorite order at *restaurant* and come home to surprise her with it; watch a movie together and fall asleep on the couch with their heads resting on each other? Any fluff, please, they deserve it. 🥺👉👈

YES! I live for this shit!! This is a scene like Lovers Rock, set before their falling out. (Also, I did not think I would be an Obito writing blog when all of this started but happy accidents, ya know?)

Word Count: 2.2k (this one is a little shorter)

Brought to you by my 200 Follower Special!

Atsuko was sprawled across Obito’s bed, laying with her head hanging off of the side of the mattress, her black curls spilling onto the floor below. She had one of his pillows gripped tight against her chest as she stared up at Obito. He was fiddling with the old stereo in his room. A relic from another time that had been handed down from Madara to him when he’d turned fifteen. It was older than Obito, covered in innumerable dials and out-dated ports, but it was one of his most prized possessions. He bragged about it and the accompanying turntable to anyone who would listen. That and the extensive collection of vinyls Madara had given him in addition to the record player. One night, they’d spent several hours huddled around the turntable, switching out different dust covered records and enjoying the way the music crackled through the powerful speakers. Obito had said the sound from vinyls was much warmer than any other medium, and Atsuko had been inclined to agree. 

Now, however, he was rigging up some kind of cassette tape with an AUX cable attached, feeding the tape into the deck and carefully shutting the case as he plugged his phone in to show her a new playlist he’d been working on. Atsuko kicked her legs in the air, feeling a bit restless as she stared at his upside-down back and listened to his focused muttering. 

“So, what’s this playlist about?”

She questioned, raising up from her position to grab the whiskey bottle they’d been taking gentle pulls out of the entire evening from the bed next to her. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig as Obito began to speak. 

“It’s more like a specific vibe. I don’t know how to describe it.”

He said, and she pulled the bottle away with a slight hiss, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand before putting the cap back on. 

“Well, what did you name it?”

She asked, turning to throw her legs off the side of the bed, her arms braced behind her as she continued to watch him. Tonight was a rare occasion. All of Obito’s brothers were staying with friends, so they had the house to themselves. Meaning they could get irresponsibly hammered and listen to music as loud as they pleased. It also meant that they could hook up in any room of the house. They’d been slowly marking locations off their list, and tonight, they’d gotten to break in the marble island in the kitchen. Atsuko’s fingers still held a faint bleach scent from the clean up afterwards. 

“I uh… haven’t named it anything yet.”

Obito answered, finally raising up from his squatted position in front of the stereo with his phone in hand, now tethered to the tape deck by a black cord. There was a bit of silence as he clicked through the app, and then, the first song on the list began to play. Crazy in Love by Beyonce. Within the first couple seconds, Atsuko recognized the song and she gasped, a wide grin on her face as she laughed. 

“Oh! I love this song and I haven’t heard it in so long!”

She exclaimed, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle now nestled between her thighs as she giggled. Obito did not like this kind of music. Pop. Things that got radio play. In fact, he was a snob when it came to music, turning his nose up at anything that he didn’t consider to be up to his standards, so the song choice surprised her a bit. He chuckled too, and when her eyes turned back on him, a light blush was covering his cheeks. 

“See! I knew you liked pop music! What is this, huh? Some guilty pleasure playlist?”

She asked, pointing at him in accusatory fashion as Obito shook his head with a smile. 

“No. I told you it’s just a general playlist of stuff I like. You don’t know everything I like, you know!”

He defined, which only served to make Atsuko laugh more. She rose from the bed, abandoning the bottle amongst the sheets again as she kicked some of the scattered dirty clothes on his floor out of the way. 

“What are you doing?”

He questioned and Atsuko jerked her head up with a grin. 

“Making us a dance floor.”

She stated proudly, eventually just bending over to move debris with her hands until she had cleared out a spot on the floor he’d likely never seen before. A decent sized circled between the edge of his bed and the table his stereo was settled on. 

“Us? Atsuko, you know I don’t dan-“

Obito started to say, but she was quick to cut him off, leaning over to grab the knob on the stereo and slowly turn the music up. 

“Oh, really? How do I know it’s not one of your hidden interests, hm? Like pop music. What else have you been keeping from me? Are you actually a millionaire in disguise? Seeing if a girl will still fall in love with you if you pretend to be poor?”

Atsuko teased, quirking an eyebrow as she crowded his personal space. Obito’s eyes were wide for a minute, the blush on his cheeks darkening for a minute before he cracked a wry smile. 

“Well, is it working?”

He replied, drawing another laugh from Atsuko, her head dropping back as she barked up towards the ceiling. When she resurfaced, she gave Obito’s chest a lighthearted shove. 

“C’mon. Let’s dance.”

She said, grabbing at where his hands hung limply at his sides, but as soon as she did, he took a step back, shaking his head. 

“Seriously, Atsuko, I’m a horrible dancer. You really don’t want to see that.”

Obito said, trying his hardest to wiggle out of a scenario he’d put himself in. Atsuko groaned softly, entering his personal space to snatch at his hand, securing it in a tight grip. 

“I have seen your orgasm face, and you’re too embarrassed to dance with me?”

She chastised, watching several emotions cross Obito’s face at once. Exasperation, embarrassment, and finally, acceptance. He let out a gentle sigh, softly nodding and allowing her to pull him back towards the impromptu dance floor. 

“Fine, fine. You win. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Obito caved just in time for the song to change. You and I by Lady Gaga rattled through the speakers and Atsuko grinned. 

“Perfect! Let’s start easy.”

Atsuko said, keeping his hand in her grip as she turned around. Atsuko moved until her back was flush against his front and she guided his hands to her hips before leaning over to the turn the music up just a few more notches. 

“Just relax…”

She instructed, already rolling her body to the beat of the song. Obito’s hands on her hips tightened for a moment before loosening into a less constricting grip. She allowed her eyes to drift shut, dropping her head back on his shoulder as they began to sway in tandem. The music flooded her head, the bass thudding through her body and changing the pacing of her heart beat. Obito’s warmth behind her on served to make the feeling more electrifying. She hummed the song low in her throat, losing herself in the feeling before Obito cleared his throat behind her. 

“Uh… If you keep moving like that… It’s making it hard to focus.”

He whispered in her ear, jerking her back to reality with the low sound of his voice. Atsuko’s eyes popped open as she noticed that his grip on her hips had tightened and he was standing stiff behind her. With a laugh, she pulled away from him, turning around to face him. 

“Fine, okay. No sexy dancing… Have you ever slow danced?”

She asked, turning back towards the bed to grab the whiskey bottle as a newly flustered Obito moved to change the song on his phone again. After she took a sip, she offered him the bottle. 

“No, I haven’t. Like I said. I don’t dance.”

Obito answered, rolling his eyes before taking the peace offering from her hand. He kept his eyes on his phone screen as he took a drink from the bottle. 

“Then put on a slower song. I’ll show you.”

Atsuko offered, the liquor in her body making her crave closeness. Obito settled the bottle down on the table next to the stereo, looking at his phone nervously before ultimately deciding on a song as he muttered ‘Fuck it’ under his breath. Drops of Jupiter by Train poured through the speakers, and Atsuko felt a pleasant tingle run through her body at the first few notes. She approached Obito, grabbing his hand again. This time, she guided both of his hands to her waist and, when he was comfortable, she wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her hands together behind his head. 

“Okay… follow my lead. And try not to step on my toes.”

She said, a dopey smile on her face as Obito chuckled softly. Slowly, she began to sway them back and forth, focusing more on her upper body and feet as they turned in circles. Being nearly drunk meant that she could look at him as much as she pleased. While Obito stared down at his feet to insure that he wasn’t stepping on her, Atsuko admired the concentrated look on his face. Dark eyebrows pinched together and bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he focused. His black hair was still wild and untamed after the shower he’d taken earlier in the night and she could smell a heady combination of whiskey and musky deodorant coming from him. 

As her bare feet slid across the dirty carpet in his room, Atsuko had the passing thought that there was no where she would rather be than right here. Drunk and dancing with her best friend in his cluttered bedroom. Her mind grew further away and the music grew louder. When Obito finally seemed to get the hang of her simple movements, he picked his head up to fix her with a proud smile and, in that very instant, Atsuko felt the entire world melt into nothing. His dark eyes bored into her own and, for a moment, they were the only two people on the planet. The cheap lamp on his bedside table was their spotlight as they became the center of the universe. 

Atsuko’s stomach twisted into tight knots and her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second until she wasn’t able to handle the eye contact anymore. So, she lurched forward, securing her arms around Obito’s neck and burying her face in his chest. He startled a bit, but eventually got the idea as his hands traveled up her back, holding her close to him while the music continued to play. They stayed just like that for several songs. Embracing one another and swaying in gentle circles as Atsuko tried her hardest not to extrapolate the feeling pooling in her chest. The playlist continued. 

Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton. Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino. 

They danced through every song and it took just as long for the overwhelming feelings to pass through Atsuko’s system. On their millionth loop around the sun, Obito cleared his throat again and whispered into her hair. 

“This is nice… but I’m getting dizzy.”

He said, and Atsuko couldn’t help but chuckle against his chest. She nodded in agreement, pulling away from Obito just at the final song swelled to a crescendo. Obito looked back down at her, a glazed look in his eyes, and it was clear to her that they had both been entranced by the moment. Though, she had a sneaking suspicion that they’d both been in the exact same head space. Without any warning, Obito’s hand came up to cradle her jaw, long finger tips running over the smooth skin of her cheek as his thumb slid under her bottom lip. They’d never kissed without sex being involved, but in that moment, Atsuko would have welcomed his mouth against hers. After hanging in the balance for what felt like an eternity, Obito let out a disbelieving chuckle and pulled away entirely, leaving Atsuko standing dumbfounded. 

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

Obito groaned before turning to drop back onto his mattress with a huff. In the time it took for her brain to catch up, Atsuko watched his eyes drift shut and his breathing begin to even out. So he was just tired… and drunk. Just like she was. That reminder lifted the weight from her shoulders and she let out a breathy chuckle before swallowing against her suddenly dry throat. Some sleep would be good for both of them. With a shake of her head, Atsuko regained her senses before turning around to shut off the music. She tapped Obito’s phone and input his passcode, but when she opened the app he used to stream music, she caught sight of the playlist title just as she hit the pause button. 

‘Atsuko’

[dollsonmain]

Tired ramblings:

This is my poor computer right now:

Hello, tiny compy guts.

Thinking about how big individual computer components were just 20 years ago….. And keeping in mind that those boxes are quite a bit larger than the components in them……..

-

For lack of anything better to do (I do have a couple ponies to work on but am not in the mood at all) I may see about getting under the desk to manage this mess of cables. The desk is huge and heavy, and I hate it because I can’t move it by myself (big, heavy, not attached hutch would surely fall, likely on me, if I dared try to move the desk) so it’s both distressingly dusty back there, and a server tech’s cthulu of cables nightmare.

That stereo is older than some of my followers/follows.

-

That Guy gave me shit for pointing out there was a flashing red light on the front of the new computer all of a sudden when he touched it. He very condescendingly informed me it was the hard drive access indicator light and I was like well for one your hand is covering it so I can’t SEE it exactly and for two THAT DIDN’T EXIST ON THE OLD ONE so cut me some slack, buddy. I probably would have figured it out if his hand weren’t covering it up.

The newer one also has fewer USB ports which is kind of a problem because all of my peripherals including the stereo are USB.

So that’s keyboard, mouse, stereo (which is on an adapter because there’s not dedicated audio port on the back of newer PCs, they all rely on HDMI which is all well and good if you’re attached to a television or a monitor with a speaker but my monitor doesn’t have a speaker), printer, phone, SD card reader (there is an on-board reader that’s difficult to access so I don’t use it)…. Tl:dr more plugs than ports.

So I have a lot of items on one plug with a splitter out the back, and another splitter out the front for just the card reader and phone.

The mouse is also on an extender because the cord is too damn short, and the extender likes to retract all of a sudden which is irritating. I could probably get a non-retracting extender. That Guy decided I would have the retracting one and it’s annoying.

-

On the NUC7 there were two USB ports on the front. On the NUC11 there is one USB and one lighting port.

That Guy insisted there are two USB ports even after me pointing at the not-USB port with the lightning symbol on it.

Regardless, most of my peripherals are either very old USB2or USB3 so that lightning port is 100% useless to me unless I buy another adapter.

-

I think I’ll pick up a pack of command strips and attach these new surge protectors to the desk underneath on the side of the foot hole. That should make them easy to get to and also keep me from kicking them.

It would also free up a little more space for the other cables which literally lay atop the door for the little cabinet which is laid atop the stereo because why the hell not……

Think I’ll also plug the printer back into the desk-mounted power strip and that power strip into one of the surge protectors so I can easily turn power to the printer on and off from up here so I don’t have it listen to it scream all of the time.

There’s only one outlet behind the desk, too, or I’d have more options for where to put what. Hate having it all on one pair.

I don’t know it’s a mess under there.

[zoopine]

I've had some ideas for a book floating in my head for a while so I thought I'd just write something tangentially related to it.

I'm not a writer by any means and this is basically a rough draft (also written on mobile) so apologies for formatting and spelling and stuff.

(Language warning!)

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

The depth gauge clicked to signify the ever passing metres. Further and further into the dark, dead sea.

Click...

Click...

Click...

I stared through the small porthole, but the darkness clung to the tinted glass as if it were so desperately trying to break in, to crush and choke and drown. For so much of human history darkness ment death, and now it awaited just outside desperately thin walls; walls that seemed to ever close in on me, burying me alive in a coffin of steel and water.

"Hey," I was snapped out of my trance by the voice Reagan, the man, accompanying me on my journey to hell, "what are you spacing out for."

"I'm just nervous."

"Of what? That you're going to die in the little box you help built?"

Reagan was a Naval officer, he was also a dick.

"If you put it that way yeah, I'm scared shitless."

"Hey, people did this kind of stuff all the time before things went to shit."

"You really think that? That people actually came all the way down here?" I picked up the blue pen in front of me and began to fiddle with it.

"They had bases on Mars dumbass, of course they did."

The speaker in the central console crackled to life.

"Please at least try to be somewhat civil, this is a scientific expedition", the muffled voice of David, one of the mission control members up top, had been carried through a thin cable all seven kilometers down to the submersible, it was the only line of communication with the living world. The scientist was fed up, and had been for some time.

"Yeah, an expedition to see absolutely nothing", quiped Reagan, "There's nothing alive anywhere else in the sea, why would some hole be any different."

"The could be all manner of life living down here, no one's checked in over nine-hundred years."

"Because there's nothing down here."

"Khol, would you please shut Reagan up." Asked the scientist.

Reagan finally shut his mouth with some mumbled sarcastic remark.

...

I was Chief engineer working on the very submersible I'm in now. The mission is to travel to the deepest depths of the sea and just... Look. Look for anything at all.

The oceans are dead, and have been for a very, very long time. There's nothing down here, nothing, but endless, murky water, eager to break in through steel walls and glass portholes.

I thought the entire expedition was stupid and dangerous, but I wasn't the one going to be trapped in a little tin can suffocating in the dark, terrifyingly far from the sun light. At least I thought I wasn't. I wouldn't have taken the job if I had known.

It wasn't a pleasant journey here either. Constantly worrying if we were going to attract the attention of a witch, or something worse.

It's good that the seas are empty. Or else what kind of the horrors would lurk now in the depths.

...

"Just fifteen more minutes until the next research point." The notification once again came through the speaker.

"Just enough time for lunch." Reagan said happily. Not only was Reagan a man of one too many words, but also one with a big appetit as well.

A sort of rice pilaf was the main course. Why the decision was made for something that would inevitably fall into every single nook and cranny of the ship was the prime choice for our packed meals eluded me. That very issue was made clear as Reagan immediately dropped a good portion of his food directly into the center console. The found it's way into multiple cracks and some fell into the bags and boxes that lay on the floor.

"For fucks sake."

"I would have brought a vacuum if I knew you would spill your food like a toddler." I remarked.

"Oh, shut up."

Mostly playful banter made up the majority of our five and a half hour journey to this point. Reagan wasn't a close friend of mine, but I did enjoy his company.

Despite the fact that I very much enjoyed rice pilaf, it wasn't a very good meal.

My eyes were drawn back to the void. The thought of what might lie below us, which at up to this point I had refused to entertain, crept into my mind. The cable that held us up was ten kilometers long, but we still had two and a half to go. We had no idea how deep the trench actually was, and there could be anything in the depths below.

Records of expeditions from pre-cataclyam or apocalypse or whatever you wanted to call it showed that multiple expeditions were made to, or at least near the bottom of the trench. I still struggled to believe it, and even if it were true Reagan and I were still pioneers in a way, the first to rediscover the hellish pits the ocean holds in nearly a millennium.

The fear of the cable, our lifeline, snapping, sending us down, down, down to our slow, horrific deaths, was also on my mind.

The hull creaked again, as it had many times before. It was to be expected, as the pressure rised outside the sub, but it didn't help to ease my worries.

"The trip back isn't going to be very fun." I said aloud.

"What, you don't want to spend anymore time with little ol' me?" Again, Reagan was a dick.

"No, the hex, the witches. What do you think."

"The hex is just a bunch harmless stone pillars and the witches won't bother us if we don't go too deep into it."

"You know what the witches do to people, Reagan, it isn't pretty. And how do we know how deep is too deep, what if they suddenly decide they don't want us passing through."

"Well, we aren't in the hex now, are we. So you don't have to worry about it."

"I guess, but-" Reagan didn't let me finish.

"Man, I wish they packed us some more to eat." Reagan was clearly trying to distract me. It didn't work, but I played along anyway.

"Yeah, we got enough food to last us a round trip, but not much to snack."

"Rice isn't really the kind of high end meal I'd imagine we'd be eating on such an expensive field trip."

"Doesn't help you spill half of it on the floor." I chuckled, and Reagan pretended to pretend he didn't.

"Just a few more minutes left." The speaker reminded us.

...

The sub was small, only a dozen or so feet from back to front. The cabin was cramped, filled with not just Reagan and I, but supplies and food for our twenty hour long journey.

Floodlights were positioned above each of the four portholes that were spread around the cabin. The central console in front of us contained the speaker and a few gauges and dials to show the conditions outside the sub.

It felt so small, so cramped, so claustrophobic, but it was what we had.

...

The submersible lurched as the winch so very far above stopped letting out cable. We now stood still in the cold, dark water, though it felt no different than before. I flicked on the switch to turn on the exterior lights and the water around was suddenly illuminated. Nothing could be seen except the fine, sparse debris floating through the depths.

"Depth is eight kilometers, pressure is at about eight hundred and twenty atmospheres and temperature at four degrees Celsius."

"Pretty cold in here too." Said Reagan.

"Yeah "

"Alright Khol, take a water sample." David requested. Acquiring a water sample was a simple task, it only required the press of a few buttons. I pushed the button to set the sample container in place outside of the hull, then to open it. The lid began to open and there was a loud whoosh as water rushed into the container, but it seemed to catch halfway through opening.

"What, did you break it or something?" Asked Reagan.

"Is something wrong." Inquired mission control.

"The sample collector is caught or something, could be a fuse, the sub is wired pretty weirdly."

"Well, aren't you the one who wired it?" I couldn't tell if Reagans remark was meant to be sarcastic, or if he just likes talking. It was probably both.

I pried off the panel that hid the fuses off the central console.

"What did I say." A fuse had blown, the culprit of the malfunctioning sample collector. I reached to the back of the submersible for the box that contained as many emergency repair parts was practical to bring; fuses, nails, screws, tape and all sorts of tools. I pulled out a spare fuse, replaced the blown one and the reattached the removed panel.

"Alright, let's try this again." The container lid jerked as it started moving again. It held open for a second or two before closing back up and sealing.

"Sample has been collected."

"Perfect, you know what to do next." Said David.

"Stare into the void for twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Reagan, for the-"

A loud rumble emanated from the top of the submersible and a feeling of vertigo overcame as it began to drop.

"The fuck was that?" yelled out Reagan.

The response from mission control was worried.

"The hitch just let a loose some cable. It looks like-"

"What do you mean it just let loose some cable? What the fuck is going on?" My body flooded with a rush of fear, the endless chasm below once again came to the forefront of my mind.

A second rumble came from the roof and the sub started descending faster.

David's voice could be heard over the yelling now coming from the speaker "Shit, shit, shit! It's dropping! Somebody get the fucking winch!"

"What do you mean the winch?" Reagan screamed into the microphone in front of him.

"Fuck! The communication cable is going to go too. Reagan, Khol, we're going to-"

My mind compressed, limbs of thought strung up and severed. A shadow hung over the bloody corpse of my once a rational mind. No words, no sound. The gates of hell had sealed and so had our fates. Reagan's panicked yelling dissolved into nothing, leaving only the sound of shifting pressure outside my prison and the depth gauge reminding of the ever approaching void.

Click...

Click...

Click...

...

A while had passed with no words spoken between us, just the mindless screaming of Reagan, though that had stopped some time ago. I felt cold and empty and dizzy, like I was bleeding out.

Reagan's voice was but a defeated whisper, "What now?"

"..."

"What now?" His voice was a little louder this time.

"..."

He stood up.

"Fucking talk to me Khol! You're supposed to be the smart one, what now!" He was yelling now.

"..."

"Talk. To. Me. Khol." He fell back into his seat and sat in silence.

Reagan began to cry.

I managed to squeeze out an "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm so sorry..." I was crying now too.

...

A unknown stretch, but a long one, had passed

Reagan tried again to break the silence.

"They'll come for us."

"...You think that?"

"Of course they will, they have to, I mean they can't just leave us down here."

"How will they bring us up Reagan"

"I-I don't know, but they'll figure it out, right? We got this deep and they can do it again, they just have to take us back up with them."

"Reagan..."

"They'll just attach us to another winch and haul us up!"

"Reagan..."

"They have to, right? They'll come in no time, we just have to-"

"Reagan! They're not coming, Reagan. They don't have another sub and-"

"They can just build another, they did-"

"And if they did, they wouldn't be able to bring us back up, Reagan, we're too heavy to be pulled up with them"

Silence filled the submersible once again.

...

I broke into my final meal pack and Reagan followed. Soup, another poor choice for a meal on this tiny coffin. It was cold, of course it was.

"You know the ocean wasn't always red." Reagan said in between sips.

"Hmm?"

"You didn't know that? Used to be blue."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I wish I could've seen it."

"Yeah..."

"What, you don't?"

"The oceans always been Red as far as I'm concerned, right? It would just look the same, but... The wrong color."

"You kidding? It must've been beautiful, Khol. Blue, just like the sky."

"That's almost to much blue." No one laughed.

Click...

...

I screamed as I was suddenly enveloped in darkness. It took a few seconds for the low-power lights to come on.

"Jesus," Reagan jumped up. He had been sleeping as well. "Sleep well?"

"What do you think?"

"What? Are you cranky or something?"

"Would you please fucking stop with sarcastic comments."

"Fine, fine... Wish we had food."

"Should've saved some."

"You think."

"Jesus, Khol, just trying to lighten the mood a little."

"Sorry... Just, you know."

"Yeah..."

...

"Why'd you take the job anyway?" I asked.

"Help me along further in my military career. The money too, having enough of it to feed yourself is pretty nice."

"You didn't get paid enough to do that?"

"Paid... You know well enough that the military is nothing like it was, well, before."

"Before... Everyone acts like they were around then, but this is the way it's always been for us, and has been for such a long time."

"Kind of hard not to when everyone who's ever lived for the past thousand years lived in the show of the people that came before us."

"It's not like we can ever go back to then. This is what we have now and we have to do our best to not fucking die at every turn."

"Look, I actually want to find some hope of returning things to what they were. I don't think we'd find anything down here, but I sure as wish we would"

"What good would finding anything even do, Reagan? All your doing is endlessly following after the dead!"

"Following the dead? Wishing for a better future, Khol!"

"Wishing for the past, Reagan!"

"So? What if I am? What's so fucking wrong with that, Khol?"

"Nothing, Reagan, just-"

"No! What's so fucking wrong with that, huh?" He stood up.

"Just drop it!" I stood up to meet him.

"No, Khol! What's wrong with wishing the hole wasn't a shit hole?" He shoved me back into the wall.

I shoved him back. There was a thud as his head hit the metal handle behind him. He collapsed to the ground.

"No! No, no, no! Reagan, please, I'm sorry Reagan! Please! Please... Please..."

Click...

...

I was hungry now. I hadn't eaten in a long time. Reagan's corpse sat in front of me, cold. I had cried and screamed and thrashed, but I was calm now. I wasn't sure how long I had been down here, in the endless crushing cold. I had broken the gauge meter in one of my tantrums, but it still clicked, slowly but surely, marking my descent into the cold, cold, cold. Never. Fucking. Stopping. I was scared still, so very scared. I didn't want to die, I wanted to see the sun again, have it reflect off the red sea. Click... click... click... I wanted to see the sun, please... please... please...

Click.

Click.

Click.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human 3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: hi and sorry for the long wait, I had to squish my brain real hard to get this chapter out, but I hope you like it, I decided a chapter about growth wasn't enough and y'all gave me an idea for angst so I just splashed it there and we'll delve into it more on the next chapter. 10/10 the idea works well enough for me to bring Levi and reader together even more. So don't call me out on being random. This is raw, un fucking edited, I'll edit later 💗

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: modern au, college au

Warnings: mentions of blood

Special kudos if you figure out why I used this gif ;)

The problem with your feet being numb in the morning when you woke up wasn't supposed to phase you as much as it currently did, but the weathering cold that had barged its way to your room silently begged to have you feel something other than the everlasting whirlpool of regret.

Which was -unsurpisingly- something you had been spiraling into a lot lately.

Your ringtone -or rather the caller that had caused it to go off- nontheless remained mercilessly unforgiving to your current condition. The brute vibrations that accompanied your once favorite song ripped through the air and bounced on every wall inside your room before it wooshed inside your eardrums.

You fucking finally had to change that ringtone, you thought.

Your feet, moist and heavy as they buzzed with the aftermath of the coma-like sleep you had just gone through, struggled to wiggle from underneath the comfort of your blankets. Your hands instinctively rubbed the underside of your nose as you sniffled all the cold of the room around you. Throwing the blanket off of you, you groaned at the non stop ringing of your phone.

The few steps to your desk felt like an eternity of having to walk with a badgy weight on your feet, but the faint feeling in your body didnt come to an halt even after you picked the device in your hands. Your eyes couldn’t really adjust well to make out the ID of the caller, of course, sleep hadn't rubbed off your eye lids yet, but still you slid the emerald button to acceptance with no resistance.

“Hey” you sleepingly moaned.

“Hellooo! (Y/n)!” Hange called enthusiastically for the other line, her joyous voice piercing your eardrums “Where are you booo?”

“I just woke up why?” you yanwed.

Pacing your eyes around your room you noticed the dull daylight creeping in through your blinds, signaling the gloom of another potentially snowy day for Trost. You blinked as you took notice of the few articles of soon to reside in the laundry bin clothing as well as the dress that hung from your closet door.

And then, it all snapped.

“Oh. shit!”

Anxiety rushed through you like a bullet to the gut, gushing numbness and waves of cold sweat from the point of impact. Forcefully, you ripped your phone off your ear and double tapped at screen to make it light up. The date read December 25, and below it, laid numerous notifications of your alarm and even a pop up reminder from last night to not forget the food you had to take with you.

Thinking back to that, your head started spinning like crazy, the familiar, yet bizarre feeling of your stomach dropping overtaking you. You hadn't cooked, rather, you had spent all night drinking and sulking on your own, cursing yourself for all your choices up to date.

"Yes, oh shit!” Hnge laughed “Oh! You forgot?”

"Hangeeee stop screaming oh my god no I didn't forget, I'm on my way okay?"

A little yelp came out of your mouth as the cable of your charger prevented you from taking another step closer to your bedroom door; letting out a curse under your breath though you quickly unplugged your phone, and rushed over the mess of your room and out to your living room.

"But you said you just woke up."

"Ahhh," you scratched your head, feeling your loose t-shirt sliding down your shoulder "no!" You said, then in a sterner voice you repeated "No! I uhm, I was just-"

Your poor excuse to communicate after having just woken up didn't startled Hange. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing because she burst into joyous, bubbling laughter at the sound of your despair. And you couldn't blame her for it; were you under any other circumstance you would be laughing with yourself as well.

"It's fine. Erwin and I are making a cake for shorty so if you want to cook here you have plenty of time yet. I'm going to say it though, we could really use your pastry skill."

You let out a sigh as you took your phone off your ear and pressed on the speaker icon. Your hands worked fast to grip onto the hem of your shirt and then, even faster, they managed to pull it off of you in shift movements.

"I'm just going to have a shower, dress up and I'll be on my way. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes."

Hange exhaled in utter relief through the phone and you could practically feel her sheepish smile as Erwin shouted a big fat 'thank you' from the depths of his kitchen. Bringing out a hand to grap your shower cap -the only shower product you loathed using- you ripped the cap off its place on your cabinet and messily shoved all of your hair in it in rushed movements.

"Got any questions before I hit the shower Hange?"

"Please ask her" Erwin was heard and you cocked your head to the side at the sound.

"No Erwiin, we got it under control okay?"

"No we don't."

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from zoning out, you clicked your tongue before opening your mouth to address your two friends. Asking as to what they were referring to was easy, although it was obvious that Hange felt confident in succeeding in the task Erwin was referring to. Knowing Hange though, you thought you could guess perhaps what exactly was going on.

"Please don't mix food coloring with spinach juice to make the cake green like two years ago."

Erwin's laughter was pretty much evident through the other line as Hange went on blubbering about how she wasn't going to do it again giving extreme emphasis as to why she couldn't understand the reason it tasted bad in the first place but would go with what you said nevertheless. At that point Erwin was laughing hysterically, telling you how Hange was once again, indeed, thinking about it and the sound of his laughter grew even louder than Hange's words.

"Do you have food coloring?"

"Yes Hange I have food coloring."

"Plea-pleaee bring some. Dammit Erwin what's gotten into you- gotta go (y/n) see you in a while."

The beeping sound from the other line left you little to no time to properly reply to your friends with a much wanted greeting, though, you didn't think much of it. You were going to spend the whole day with them, so getting upset over not getting the chance to say goodbye over the phone wasn't something that should have caused guilt to spurt in you.

But surely, this wasn't the only cause of your overly bubbling guilt. The actual cause of the knot in your gut laid to the fact that within the time span of two weeks you had managed to to drag Levi and yourself into a rather steep rabbit hole. There was going to be a serious impact of your relationship with your friends had the two of you made it known to them; everyone would scold you -and they'd be right at that- and maybe this time they'd pick sides as to what wrong or not. And you didn't want that.

Although you secretly wished everyone went with Levi. Or at least you had come to the conclusion that that was what you deserved.

You had been feeling bothered and repulsed by what had caused you to make out with him that night, given the fact that you had been the one that initiated the kiss. And just as much, you had been feeling furious over Levi allowing this to ever happen. But looking back at it now, you couldn't say you regretted getting close to him even in such way. And that was probably the most infuriating thing of all.

Nevertheless, there was also the fact that you would be seeing Levi today and frankly you didn't know what to do with that. Should you act like everything was fine? Should you simply ignore him? Was Petra going to be with him?

Speaking of Petra it would be best if you straight up let her know of what had happened. Acting shady with another woman's man behind her back was outrageous for anyone to do and you hated being in that position like the next person.

Your stomach twisted dangerously at your spiraling thoughts, but you chose to ignore the tight knot, attributing the loud growl you had heard to one caused by your excessive hunger.

Perhaps, your shower was going to help you sort out your thoughts and intentions.

With a twist of your wrist the water started sprinting out of the tap in your shower. Your eyes were fixated on your phone, your thumb roaming through Spotify in hopes to find the perfect song to company your bath with. You simply said good for a Christmas playlist that Spotify suggested, tapping on that, a list of numerous jolly songs popped up in your screen and you simply pressed the big shuffle button before putting your head on your cabinet.

..

The walk to Erwin's house was very much and as previously expected, quiet. The sidewalks on your way were all covered in sugary white snow, decorating each different apartment complex in the non urban side of Trost along with the standard holiday decorations.

Taking a deep sigh you brought the back of your finger to the metallic button of Erwin's doorbell. Blinking rationally, you looked around at the marble front door frame of his apartment complex, your blood subtly rushing to your feet. You dragged the tip of your combat boot over the snow, curling your toes on the fuzzy material that covered the inside of the shoe.

You were beginning to become impatient as you waited on the doorframe, Erwin was taking way too long to open the door and you were practically freezing out there; the dress you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm. Despite you taking precautions by wearing a cardigan and the leather coat that you had snatched from your brother, the cold still pierced through your sheer black pantyhose, as if your efforts to stay warm were ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps was what startled you next but still your head didn't turn to the source of the buzzing noise. Your nose simply nuzzled to the scarf you had wrapped around yourself as you rubbed your face onto its warm fleece material.

"Uh, hi."

This time you could help but turn around to check who had thrown a greeting at you.

A familiar puff of ginger hair greeted you as you snuck your nose out of the edge of your scarf, two big and round hazel eyes stared right at you as you blinked rapidly back at them.

Great. Just great.

"Hey."

Petra wiggled her nostrils once to the left and then to the right, seemingly scratching the awkwardness in the atmosphere away. She blinked her eyes a few times into yours, her lips pursing together slightly as if she was coming up with a good comeback to your greeting, yet it never came.

"uhm, what's up?"

Your fingers slightly clutched the edges of your coat, crossing over your chest as you felt your jaw start clattering. Your pupils gathered at the corners of your eyes, catching small glimpses of Petra as you eyed her up and down.

She too had opted for a cardigan and a dress. A very safe choice if you were in a place to express your opinion but hers, despite being adorned with numerous tiny and dainty coral and red flowers, looked so thin and tule like and it barely covered her thighs, so much that you felt a pinch of concern run through you that you were slow to decide on whether you wanted to brush off or not.

"I'm.. good." She managed to let out, but you noticed how her lip trembled.

She was definitely shivering, if that wasn't concerning enough you didn't know what was, and she looked so frail and out of place that she could definitely beat you at it. Plus, the lack of a warm jacket struck somewhat of a nerve at you. Even feeling so much guilt over being in her presence you couldn't help but feel your motherly friend instincts wash over you; why wasn't she wearing something warmer? And why were you seconds away from taking off your jacket to offer it to her when you knew she wouldn't even accept it.

"Damn, Erwin's sure taking long, do you want my jacket?"

"Uh-"

Once again and mostly out of instinct, your finger tapped over the metallic button, covered by the edge of your sleeve. Suddenly, the familiar buzz of the intercom growled in your eardrum and you shook your head to its direction automatically.

"I'm so sorry!" Erwin said. "Come in!"

"Hey Erwin!" Petra spoke before you had a chance to say your wanted reply.

Even if you couldn't see him, you knew how shocked of an expression he was wearing.

Taking the few steps into the apartment complex's yard, you rushed to the next door and waited for the known buzz which signaled that Erwin had finally let you inside. With awkwardness spread over your face though, you pushed your lips into a thing line, holding the door back as you signaled to Petra that she should be the first to come inside.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"No prob."

You watched as Petra hesitated to push the elevator button; with a set of trembling fingers her palm rested only a few inches before the metallic button that was lit in a red arrow. With another smile you came closer to her and went to check in which floor the elevator was currently at. Whether she flinched intentionally or not, you didn't know.

"Wanna share a lift? It'll be a while till it comes down again." You offered.

"Uhm, yeah okay."

Once she responded, Petra tapped onto the elevator button with her thumb.

Petra looked at you and clung onto the edged of her cardigan once again. You took notice of how she looked a little more casual and unkept, despite being dressed on point; the lack of a jacket and her tousled naturally wavy bob betrayed an unwillingness to be present to today's event and it's was painfully obvious.

"I'd like to" Petra hesitated, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh sure, what is it about?"

"It's about Levi."

Dead silence fell as Petra didn't dare turn her gaze to your direction. The little screen over the elevator button still showed that your lift was taking long to come down as if it mocked you, but you couldn't find it in you to tap into the button once again.

"Would you like to grab some coffee with me tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

To say that you were panicked would be an exaggeration and probably a degradation to Petra's feelings. Her breathing was heavier than your own, frankly because for her it must have been even more uncomfortable than it was for you. You couldn't blame her for that.

Nonetheless you couldn't help but be genuinely curious as to what she had wanted to tell you? It was evident that she knew something. What's slipped you was whether or not she want to bash you for your actions.

She had every right to do so.

"Yeah. Of course, uhh, tomorrow sounds good."

....

Christmas day wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be when Hange had announced to you that Levi would be coming alone with Petra.

For starters, the food was in plehtora; Erwin had cooked your jolly favorite roasted chicken, Mike and Nanaba had brought an enormous plate of their creamiest, most mouth watering souffle, Levi had made some god tasty pumpkin soup and Hange had taken actually good care of fixing a custom non alcoholic cocktail to each one of you.

All of this drool worthy deliciousness had caused, and non surprisingly at that, your body to submit in that peaceful demi slumber that tagged along with the fullness of your tummy. Frankly, it had been so long since you had enjoyed such a good meal and you didn't think you would be enjoying another one until Mikasa's birthday.

Thus, the cool evening sir that entered the room when Erwin opened the window door to the balcony, found you laying on the floor right next to the tangerine fire that danced in the fireplace. You could faintly feel Nanaba's hand scratch at the roots of your hair, her almond tipped nails slowly running in purringly mellow lines over your sculp that sent you to pure delight.

Levi's eyes danced over your form more than he'd like to admit so. Ever so slightly his pupils would travel up and down your thighs and calfs, examining the material of your sheer back pantyhose but whatever emotion overcame him wasn't the animalistic lust he had expected to feel.

He felt rather guilty. And not only for staring at your legs. For bringing himself upon the situation he was in.

It wasn't easy to think with a throbbing head but in Levi's world this poor condition was translated as a prompt to try to get out of whatever shithole he had found himself in. Maybe. Because there was also a certain part inside of him that bashed him to no end about his previous and degrading actions to both Petra's and his person, which part he completely and rationally justified.

With a quick glance at Petra, Levi brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe any of the numbness his guilt had got him feeling. Petra seemed to enjoy herself as per usual. With her soft smiles and the mellow sway of her hair over her shoulder, she'd often reach for the hem of her white wooly cardigan to cover her shoulder while cooing into the soft material and onto the side of the couch she was seating in.

It would be hard for anyone to guess that the two of them had broken up.

She was unsurprisingly sitting as far off him as she could; the fact that they hadn't announced to anyone they had broken up because they didn't want the Christmas party at Erwin's to be ruined didn't mean she owned Levi to act like his faithful and bubbly dog.

It happened that night after he had stood her up at the movies.

Levi had gathered all of his determination and had managed to push all thoughts aside from the back of his brain, as he was despairate to ignore that feeling your make out session had brushed on him. He had walked up to Petra, all dissolved and stoic, his chest swelling with anxiety. He had stared at her with an agape mouth, he had been muttering words so honest that he felt were fatally brute and Petra had digested them all without any difficulty.

And before he knew it, he was over and done.

Petra hadn't cried, she hadn't wept, she had only answered him with a smile that she'd rather just be friends with him if things weren't going to work between them.

And to an extended it tortured the ravenette, mostly because he remembered the hurt look in her face before she had managed to hide it with her usual mellow smile.

Taking another sigh, Levi stared at Petra's hand while she played silently with the lettuce hem of her dress. Her hazel orbs were fixed on you, who laid before the fireplace like a stray cat on the tire of car during a snowy day. Levi couldnt exactly place the exact emotion behind Petra's expression, though it would be perceived by most as a saddened one. There were specs of regret gathering at the corners of her eyes, reluctance gathered at her slightly puckered lips and a hint of determination to the front tips of her eyebrows.

Maybe Petra's inner strength was something that Levi deeply admired.

Levi made no effort whatsoever to reach out to her to ask what was going on, not even to show some seemingly convern. The more he looked at Petra, the more it felt utterly wrong for him to simply stand next to her, knowing what he had do behind her back. Whether he loved her or not, it wasn't like him to be caught up in such stupid drama.

"Shorty!"

Levi looked up to an enthusiastic Hange with much tousled hair and a big grin on her face that spread from one ear to another. With another, more thorough glance, he quickly became aware of the cake in her hands; a cake covered in white frosting, decorated with soft pastel green letters that wrote a simple birthday wish to his person. He couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"For you!" Hange smiled further "Erwiiin, come light up the candles!"

Looking around the room he noticed how all of his friends' gazes were on him. Mike and Nanaba remained cuddled on the couch opposite to the one he was on, Petra was mellowy smiling at his eith her cherry lips pressed into a thin line and you were fiddling with what seating arrangement was most comfortable for you at the moment.

"We're celebrating another year where you went up in age and down in height, how delightful." Mike commented, causing laughter to spark between the small group of people around you.

After the spur of happiness died out your eyes met with Levi's, briefly and then they traveled anywhere else in the room altogether.

"Let's light up the candles!" Smiled Erwin as he flicked the small metallic button of his lighter.

"I don't want too many, shit. The last time you took my lungs out."

"Not our fault that you're old Levi!" You spoke, earning a half smile by the ravenette.

"Very old!" Hange agreed.

"Tch, I'm only turning twenty six shut your shitty mouths!"

The warm light of the fire licked each waxed strip of wick that hung from the candles, illuminating Hange's face in warm orange light. Once done with lighting up the candles, Erwin plopped himself in between Levi and Petra, crossing his hands over his knees as he shifted his bottom in the most uncomfortable seating on a couch you had ever witnessed.

You merely caught a glimpse of Hange kneeling before Levi as you dragged your gaze over to Petra, fixating it on her for the thousandth time this evening.

There only was one thing in your head that bounced between the crevices of your brain like crazy. Just one simple words that held so much behind it.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you were going to apologize to Petra and try to make amends. Being the despicable toxic person you had turned into didn't suit you. Owing up to your mistakes was the first step to redemption and you weren't afraid to take it.

As you fell into a spiral of thoughts and guesses about tomorrow though, you couldn't help but subtly ignore the cheerful sing alone to Levi's birthday song.

.....

"Thank you for coming!"

Petra's hair was messily swaying all over her face, falling a direct victim to the frozen December air, yet she smiled as if nothing was going on.

The park around you was covered in snow. White was primarily the color that was plastered on everything, save for the dry stems of trees that were once covered in forest green leaves.

Your peeping hot coffee did nothing to warm up your hands, despite your best wishes and in the moment you had called victim to some specs of jealousy over Petra's gloved hands as they rubbed soothing over her own coffee.

"Of course, I had been meaning to talk to you as well."

"Oh you did?" Petra spoke with her eyebrows following the little surprise that was masking her tone. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah about that-"

"Can I please go first?" Petra cut you off.

Her huge hazel eyes that blinked into yours from your left side left you little to no space to deny her wish. Thus, by taking a sigh, you pushed past the quick beating of your heart and gestured her to go first with a kind smile on your face.

"Okay oof, thanks!" Petra huffed "look. Levi and I broke up. Now I know that you'll say it doesn't concern you, and frankly it'd be ideal if it didn't, but I know it does, because Levi explained to me what happened."

At that Petra slightly paused.

Naturallye first thing that came to your mind was the need to express an apology. Although, you weren't that sure if Petra would perceive the apology as sincere, you felt like you ought to give one to her. Yet her eyes blinked into yours further as she took another turn down the path you were walking on and you wordlessly followed asuit.

"I love Levi you know," she sighed "but Levi loves you. You're not over each other and it's painfully obvious, I mean you did just collided to eachother quite literally, not giving a single care about whether you couldn't have each other or not."

A sheer red colored tint painted your cheeks at her words.

Your skin pricked you, burning up a stingingly painful path to all of the pores on your face as shame took the form of an earth shattering wave. Your heart started heaping beats, hollering into the depths of your chest and you could hear it bounce inside your eardrums as if your whole body was hollow save for the jolting organ and the echo of the sound it made was bouncing around each fleshy wall.

Petra was right and you couldn't help but accept but stand the as she was lightning you with her words.

"It hurts to see that someone that I love doesn't love me back but it hurts more to see that you two are very miserable without eachother. I really thought you were a bitch you know."

At the sound of that, you let out a startled laugh.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you just gave us looks when we'd shoe up together somewhere or you'd simply leave, but I don't like turning my back on people and judging them like that. I'm in no place to judge anyone a coping mechanism."

Petra sighed. Her fingers curled strongly onto her cup, while her left palm went to support the cup by the bottom as she angled it on her lips. She made a tiny gulping noise as she drank a sip from her latte, her nose crinkling up as the hot beverage brushed over her sensitive tongue. In turn, you sipped similarly, mimicking Petra just hoping it would serve as a sign for her to go on with her speech.

"I might be hurt, but I vouch to help you and Levi resolve what's going on and get back together."

"You do?"

"Mhm"

"Petra I, I don't know what to say you- you're a literal angel." You admit and the guilt in your stomach only growled in its awakening.

You and Levi had hurt a wonderful person. Petra didn't need to be nice to you, she didn't need to offer to help you with anything but once you made yourself step inside her shoes you were able to see why she had perceived you the way that she initially had.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was silent and stripped of any emotion other than shame yet Petra was beaming at you in response.

Her warm smile was elegant and comforting as she stared at you, taking another gulp of her drink with a soft giggle. Your eyes were locked with hers, saddened (e/c) irises staring into her hazel ones, as she smiled even more little by little.

It was strange.

There was a different kind of bubbling inside your chest and you knew because your heart wasn't hammering anymore, not was your stomach trying to be ripped apart in tiny pieces after it vored into your other intestines. You felt serene, at peace even.

It clicked to you that this is what must feel to be forgiven.

"It's fine, plus you guys kinda deserve each other." Petra laughed at your chocked inhale, pressing a comforting, gloved palm to your shoulder. "I'd rather find my happiness when I'm not in between two people that struggle to find theirs."

Petra nuzzled to the comfort of her jacket, giving you a scrunched up bunny smile. You knew it's not that she hoped you could be best friends after this. She simply wanted to make sure that she could do her best to help two people find happiness. And it wasn't all that bad, you figured. You didn't know what you would do were you in her place.

In a way, you admired Petra for being so strong.

"Besides, girls shouldn't bring down other girls."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about what I did behind your back. I own up to my mistake. I can't take it back but I can promise that I won't become this toxic ever again."

You shot an apologetic side smile at her as you followed her tracks.

Taking a new look in your surroundings, you deeply inhaled the cold air, filling your lungs in shivering winter freshness. A few specs of snow were adorning Petra's hair as the fell from the sky in a dainty manner, licking the stray threads that popped from her wooly gloves.

There definitely was a commotion a few blocks away. You could hear sirens go off not so far from your spot but you chose to ignore them, it was typical for a city person to filter out unnecessary noise, and having to live in Trost added tons to what you had to filter or not.

"It's December twenty six and the two is back to being a Mayhem." Petra sighed.

"It's like we're Gotham or some shit."

"Gotham?" Petra blinked at you, earning a gasp from you.

"Step one to being the friend of someone who's majoring in comics-"

"Oh, friends yay!"

Shaking your head, to ignore the child like enthusiasm, you continued, "Please know the most well known fictional city, it's Batman's city too."

"OH!" Petra's mouth fell agape as she took in the information, but she quickly giggled again as she saw that you easily took a gulp of your beverage "you're right."

For what seemed like a second you felt at peace once again. Petra bubbled about how she wanted to apologise to Levi about her rather cold behavior last night, and explained in the most non detailed way how it was the memory of the passing of her mother that had caused her to become this grumpy.

"Don't worry Petra! But beware, you could be turning into Levi version two point oh and-"

A loud sound startled you, sending both you and Petra back a few steps. Dumbfounded, you stared at each other and around you, locking eyes with different by passers that were just as shocked as you.

"Maybe we should go back!" Petra suggested. You simply nodded, hearing a good amount of running footsteps coming to the direction of the block you were in. In any way, getting caught up with a manhunt wasn't in your plans for today

"Yeah maybe we shou-"

Your words were cut off absurdly, harshly and shockingly all together. As gunmetal orbs locked with yours, your eyelids shot open, hour mouth dropping to the snow covered concrete.

"Levi?"

Wait, Levi? That was actually so random

Before you could manage to process what was going on around you, or why on earth Levi had just popped up from the alley right across you another head splitting sound filled the air.

Levi -yes, this was indeed Levi, you just didn't really know how to process this- collapsed on his knees like a rag doll, his torso and head giving in to the exhaustion of his body. Once he fell, you stood frozen, shieldimg Petra with one hand as the two of you watched in horror while crimson started littering the sugary snow.

"Call an ambulance." You spoke dryly, eyes still wide with horror.

The people who had seemed to be after Levi quickly fell onto the hands of the hands of a handful of police men who were on their tracks, but you couldn't care to look at their faces. You just run towards Levi, always followed by a petrified Petra, your feet giving in as you kneeled right next to him, your fingers gingery ghosting over him just to inspect what was his condition.

You listened as Petra spoke with the emergency center in horror, explaining what was the scene before her eyes while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"What's going on?" Shy muttered once she detached the phone off her ear.

"I'm pretty sure now is not the right time for a story, but Levi used to be in a street gang in his teens."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy indeed.

Here's your gentle reminder that constructive criticism makes me cry because I'm a baby

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @liddolwhynot2000 @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @thethyri @hawkssnugget @berrijam @melancholicmonologue