#iphone aux cord

[giftcardgiveaway0482]

[vraska-theunseen]

i'm always leaving personal items on public transportation but the universe loves me so people always find them and return them to lost and found

[ordinary-barbie]

there's something about the summer - jean kirstein x reader

tags: female!reader, some smut but not explicit, tooth-rotting fluff

minors/ageless blogs dni.

you were never a huge fan of summer, but a certain sandy-haired guy manages to change your mind. modern AU. title from "summer mood" by best coast. buckle up because this is a bit of a long one.

Walking away, talking all day Ooh, I want you Ooh, I want you But there is something about the summer There is something about the summer There is something about the summer

to be honest, summer was never your favorite season. sure, getting time off from school was nice, and going on family vacations was fun, but you could never say you were in love with it. that is, until you met jean kirstein.

it makes perfect sense that jean adores summer. the man is a walking ray of sunshine! at first, you're baffled when jean says it's his favorite season. how could he possibly love the hottest time of the year?

jean lights up as he explains what he loves about summer: beach days. lying by the pool at his mom's house. ice cream dates. the sun setting after 7 pm. it's such a freeing time, and makes him feel like a little kid again. (you playfully roll your eyes at his enthusiasm but secretly, your heart melts. jean is just too damn adorable.

jean, the sentimental sap that he is, is determined to make your first summer together great. the man has a document in his iPhone Notes app with potential summer fun ideas!

he's so lame (affectionate)

Jean takes you to his favorite beach, a 5-hour drive away from home. he loads up on both of your favorite snacks for the trip and trusts you with the aux cord. there's a lot of loudly singing to pop songs, even though jean, bless his heart, can't carry a tune to save his life.

you're definitely familiar with this beach in name (and through friends' Instagram photos) but you've never made the trip yourself. and after you and jean get settled into your airbnb and decide to explore, you wonder why it took so long.

the beach is located on a little island along the coast, 3 blocks away from where you're staying, and its gorgeous scenery takes your breath away. miles of sandy beaches and beautiful oak trees laden with spanish moss are there to greet you and jean. the two of you interlock fingers as you stroll along the beach and check out the pier.

jean finds another reason to love summer the next morning, when you decide to bring along a book in your tote so you can lay out on the beach and read. when you first emerge from your shared bathroom in your favorite bikini, jean has to keep his jaw from completely unhinging. goddamn, how did he luck out with the prettiest girl in the world?

it's such a good-fitting bathing suit, hugging your body in all the right spots and making your tits look amazing. jean blushes, still amazed at how you can get him so hard without even trying.

spoiler alert: you don't make it to the beach that morning - jean manages to convince you that your post-breakfast activities should involve him mouthing at your breasts under your bikini top and eating you out until your bottoms are soaked instead. (you should be mad at him for ruining your reading time but you can't be too upset after multiple orgasms.)

after a post-sex nap (jean, responsible king that he is, brought a box of condoms and some lube just in case) and a thorough session of sunscreen application (again: jean the responsible king, though the two of you also relish the opportunity to have your hands on each other again), the two of you do manage to make it out to the beach for an afternoon of lazing around.

you're reading a romance novel that one of your friends recommended to you, and jean has his sketchbook and colored pencils out. ("my little monet," you lovingly tease him, giggling when the tips of his ears turn pink and he smiles bashfully.)

after a couple of sleepy, relaxed, sun-soaked hours on the beach, you and jean head back to the airbnb, and he reveals what he's been working on. it's a picture of you, lying on your stomach as you smile at the book you're reading. the amount of detail jean puts into the drawing makes you feel warm inside. jean is so damn talented, and it flatters you to be considered his muse.

you beam at jean before pulling him into a deep kiss. "i'm so lucky to have you in my life," you mutter into his sandy brown locks, and it makes him want to melt. the feeling is oh so mutual.

the rest of the trip seems to pass by in a blur. jean is game as you pull him into vintage shops and museums, and you humor his touristy desire to go on a guided tour and chill out in the golf cart while your boyfriend plays a few holes. truthfully, you haven't been on a proper beach vacation in ages, and you're so glad jean convinced you to be whisked away for a few days.

you and jean vow to go on a beach trip every summer. he's already getting excited at the thought of bringing your future kids to his favorite beach, and your heart seizes at the thought. you'd been ambivalent to the idea of having kids at first but there's something about jean that makes you want to form a family with him someday.

one thing you and jean bonded over when you first met through mutual friends (thanks Sasha and Marco) was music, and you learn that jean is a huge summer concert fan. whether it's a big festival or just one of your favorite artists, he wants nothing more than to just vibe to the music with you. one year into your relationship, he convinces you to go to bonnaroo with him, which is huge because you do not do camping. but spending a weekend on a Tennessee farm with jean, jamming to a bunch of artists and feasting on festival food by day and snuggling under the stars by night, ends up being pretty damn romantic.

back to that first summer. jean usually spends the fourth of july at his mom and stepdad's lake house, and jean's mom insists that you tag along so she can finally meet the girl that her jeanbo is so wild about. you're nervous at first - you never know what will happen when you meet the parents.

however, all your worries melt away when jean's mom envelopes you in the biggest hug. the two of you end up adoring each other, which makes jean's heart swell (at least until he catches the two of you giggling over old childhood photos his mom has on his phone)

jean's stepdad is pretty great as well. he's an affable guy who makes a mean turkey burger and is delighted that you laugh at his terrible dad jokes. jean's stepsisters, who are both teens, love you and crack jokes about how their dorky stepbrother managed to land someone as cool as you. when the two of you are cuddled up in bed on the last night of your trip, you tell jean how welcomed you feel by his family, and he's relieved that his two worlds have merged together so perfectly.

there's so many summer memories that you and jean hold dear, no matter how big or small. you tell him how you and your younger brother used to stand out in the front yard on summer nights and watch the fireflies flit about. you both decide to check out a new custard place that opens up and become determined to try as many flavors as possible. movie dates, so many movie dates, whether they're in a theater or at home (and jean prefers the ones at home since they usually lead to makeouts). parties with your mutual friends. summer weddings that leave you both misty-eyed.

thanks to jean kirstein, you've warmed up - pardon the pun - to this magical stretch of time from late May to September. it's not like you've never had fun during summer, but this man (this beautiful sunshine boy) has made you appreciate the season in so many ways. jean embodies summer to you, and you can't think about summer without being reminded of jean.

during your third summer together, you and jean are on your annual beach trip, but something feels different. after a delicious dinner and dessert at a local restaurant, jean decides to take you out to the beach, ostensibly to get some pics of the sunset (you've gotten used to jean being your personal paparazzo by now, and you must admit, the guy takes good photos). however, once he drops to one knee and takes a small box out of his pocket, everything clicks into place for you. jean's been different this trip, still his normal goofy self, but with an undercurrent of something else that you realize were probably nerves. you can barely get any words out through your tears, peppering him with kisses.

you hear a camera flash go off and spot Sasha, who somehow managed to keep herself hidden during the proposal. you envelop her in a big hug, grateful to her for introducing you to the love of your life. you can't believe that jean is going to be yours - not just for this summer, but for every summer forevermore.

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

i don’t want to hear another millennial look me in the eyes and try to explain to me how life used to be as if there’s a 50 year gap between us. bitch i am gen Z and my favourite tv shows when i was a kid were recorded on tapes. i drive a 2008 ford ranger with manual locks and crank windows. my speaker still has an actual aux, so yes i fucking know what a fuck an auxiliary cord is. and that’s new, too. we used to play CD’s in the car, i remember the first time my parents ever had access to a “playlist” because they didn’t get iphones until i was in elementary school. “gen Z doesn’t even know what a DVD is” how about you shut the fuck up im trying to watch my lord of the rings extended edition dvd box set thank you. if you have a fucking problem take it up with gen alpha or something, i don’t give a fuck.

[fitgothgirl]

I’ve had my car for 7 years and just realized it has an aux input……

The bluetooth has been annoying me so much. I’ll turn off the car with no music playing and no music app even open, but when I turn my car back on and it reconnects, it’ll start playing music from my Spotify again even with the app closed… Like I just want it to keep it how I left it?? Also when I first start my car there’s like a 30 second delay between with the music starts and when I can click skip or pause bc it’s still loading or connecting or wtv, so if I don’t want to listen to the current song I either have to turn the volume all the way down or go to my phone (and open Spotify if needed…) and pause/skip it from there. And during this 30 second period, the music will be skipping here and there bc of the aforementioned still connecting/loading.

Technology is supposed to make our lives easier but this shit has always irritated me lol and I’ve been missing just using a simple aux cord. So I was wondering if there was a way it could be installed and I was looking it up realized it’s fucking already there and I never noticed it. 😭😭😭 To be fair it’s lower down and hard to see (it’s a Mazda 3 2017) but still. I’ve had this car for 7 years AND I’ve been all annoyed with the bluetooth lmao.

I dug out an old aux that still works and the iPhone adapter (🙄) and made my car and my phone forget each other’s bluetooth connection and now I can have control and peace lol.

[safety-pin-punk]

Punk 101: Recording Music

To answer the question: ‘How do you record music off of a streaming service’ (for legal reasons I wont say which one I recorded off of)

Warning: it can get a bit complicated and is illegal

More Important Warning: at the end of this post there is a video with flashing lights

Also a point to make: you shouldnt do this especially for smaller bands. They make money off of streaming. They need money to survive. Support small bands

Step 1. Put the playlist together

This can be on Spotify, Tidal, Apple Music, etc. You just have to be able to access it on your phone or tablet (something that takes an aux cord)

Step 2. Turn the sound to Analog

This is accomplished by running it through an aux cord. If you have a newer iphone or simply a device that has no aux output, you need to get an adapter. But the music HAS to be transferred out of a digital format otherwise you wont be able to record through any encryption (Im not a computer person please dont ask me to explain streaming encryptions)

Step 3. Turn it back into digital

Heres the thing, you can’t really record analog (well not without a HUGE quality loss in sound). This is the part where I warned it can get complicated. I’m going to show the ‘advanced’ way. But you could probably also just find a way to plug the aux into a computer as an input too.

Personally, *if* I were to record music (which I totally dont do cause its illegal) I’d run my music through two different boards

The one on the left is an old as fuck board that has amazing sound, the one on the right is a Denon, which we currently use for DJ gigs. The aux is the input into the old one, which in turn is the input into the new one.

Side note: I’d only add the old board into the mix if I can’t get the aux input loud enough on the Denon to match any pre-recorded music. That’s important for a DJ. The old board would let me give it an extra boost.

Step 4. Sound match (kind of optional, but recommended)

If you want your music to be the same volume as all the other music you have, you have to sound match with a song you already have. I like this song:

You need to record about 20 second demos and compare them with the original song while messing around with the settings until it sounds good without damaging the equipment. As you can see it might take a few tries to get the sound to match. But once it does, you dont have to change the settings for any other song you record.

If you are using a board to record or boost your audio, these are lights that you want to pay attention to. You never want to ‘peak’ your boards. Its not good for them and will shorten their life span.

Step 4. Record

Newer boards often have recording functions (like the Denon). If you are on a computer, use whatever recording application you have available. Save each track. (Maybe listen to the first few to make sure you arent cutting off the very beginning or end of a song). Keep track of which song was recorded in what order if you cant name them right away.

Save the songs onto a usb or on your computer. From their you can rename the files

Step 5. Do with it as you please

Want to turn it into a cd?

Punk 101 Master List

My entire set up for recording: FLASH WARNING

[bassguitarsoup]

posting bc i am fighting the urge to binge like hell rn so im jus gonna chat ab my day to distract me :P started off the day by getting a new phone and an apple watch, i got a pink iphone 15 and it’s rlly cute but apple changed their charging ports (again ??) for whatever reason and now i dont know how im supposed to use an aux cord in the car which is annoying but otherwise the phone is good. it works. afterwards i went to hang out with my friends and we walked around and smoked and i had some popcorn while we were watching a movie. sucks but i tracked it and stayed below my calorie intake for the day so its alright. we were actually walking and dancing around a lot, i burned 717 calories which is good since i didn’t manage to get to the gym today. anyway, now im home and watching south park and having really really bad late night binge urges 🙃

[freeuselandonorris]

As you mentioned fic prompts: I'm not sure this is unhinged enough (although it's André so there's always that possibility) but if you were up for it I'd love to read a James/André shibari fic. Or alternately just them fucking about in Tokyo in general and having a filthy old time.

Also I hope your week improves!

wahh i'm sorry this took me so long! life, and then covid brain fog, got in the way.

anyway, i hope you like this! i had fun revisiting the slutty old tokyo days 🥲

thanks for the prompt and for all the gdocs hype as always! 😘

André puts his feet up on James’s coffee table, dislodging a stack of arty-looking books with his heel. They’ve been drinking steadily for a few hours now; he’s not drunk, just buzzed. 

“Careful,” James says mildly. He’s got the glazed, happy look he gets after a few beers. He’d won at Suzuka two days ago and has been celebrating, in one fashion or another, since. 

André straightens the stack up enough to stop it from toppling completely, then runs his fingers down the spines. James is into all these coffee table books, full of artistic black-and-white nudes and severe-looking women in sculptural clothes. Not really André’s thing, but he has to admit they lend an air of class to James’s otherwise extremely bland Tokyo apartment. The decoration in his own extends about as far as a framed Senna poster in the hallway and his helmet swap collection lined up across the top of the bookcase in the sitting room.

One of the books, halfway down the pile, catches his eye—yellow text on a red background, the title reads ‘ARAKI by ARAKI’. André slips the book out from the pile. The front cover shows a Japanese man holding a banana, kinda punk-looking. Not James’s usual thing at all. 

Curious, André flips it open. At first glance, he can see why James likes it. It’s the Tokyo they know: dive bars and groups of salarymen with loosened ties sitting around their half-discarded otsumami, lines of washing strung between alleyways. 

“This is cool,” he says, flicking through the pages. James, who had been fiddling with the aux cord plugged into his iPhone, trying to get it to connect to the speaker without much luck, looks up.

“Oh, yeah.” He takes a closer look at the page André’s come to a stop on, showing a group of women sitting around a table, deep in conversation, and grins. “You’re not at the good stuff yet, though.”

André raises his eyebrows and takes a swig of beer, flipping through the pages faster. Quickly, it becomes apparent that James was right, when he comes across a section dedicated almost entirely to—well, it’s porn, really. Naked girls, girls touching themselves, sucking cock, spreading their legs for the camera.

“You dirty man,” André says, amused. He can feel his cheeks burning up. “And I thought you were so classy, with your art books.”

James smirks and points the neck of his bottle at the open book. “Tell me that’s not art.”

André looks at the book. It’s a double-page spread, full colour, of a Japanese girl tied in ropes, one white-socked foot barely brushing the tatami mat and the other leg hoisted high. Her eyes are closed, lips parted in pleasure. Her top half is fully clothed in a kimono and obi, but from the waist down the ropes have totally exposed her.

He swallows. It is, undeniably, art. He doesn’t feel like saying that to James though. “Too much bush for my taste,” he jokes instead, pointing at the girl’s extremely well-covered crotch. James snickers and André relaxes slightly. 

Something compels him to keep flicking through, even though it would be far more sensible to put the stupid book back and keep drinking and maybe see if James wants to watch a movie. 

There are a lot more photos of women tied up. The rope is artistically tied in flattering shapes around their bodies, and most of them are suspended from the ceiling or thick posts. André takes a swig of his beer, trying to distract himself from the blush he can feel across his cheeks.

“Took a course on that once,” James says conversationally, having finally got the speaker connected and, unfortunately, now able to pay full attention to André’s journey of discovery.

“What?” André says, momentarily confused.

“Shibari,” says James, and then, at André’s blank look: “The ropes.”

“What?” André repeats stupidly, and mentally shakes himself. He sounds like an idiot.

James looks supremely unfazed. “Yeah, not long after I first got here. I was seeing a girl who was into it, so for her birthday I got us both tickets to a ‘couple’s workshop’.” He leers a bit as he says it, and André’s traitorous cock twitches. 

“Huh,” André says, and swallows. “You should teach me.”

He holds his breath after he says it, expecting James to burst into laughter or recoil in disgust, but James just shrugs and says, “Yeah, alright. I’ve still got the ropes in my room somewhere, hang on.”

He’s up and out of the room before André can backtrack or say he didn’t mean right now or any of the other excuses that leap to the tip of his tongue. André finishes his beer and tries to quell the rising panic in his chest—and the way he can feel his cock fattening up in his pants. 

There’s some crashing about and the sound of drawers and cupboard doors being opened and closed, and André half-prays James can’t find the ropes after all. When James reappears a few minutes later triumphantly waving a small bundle, André tells himself the flip in his stomach isn’t relief. 

“Alright,” James says, eyeing him critically. He’s acting like this is all completely normal, which is making everything ten times worse. “Get your jacket and shoes off and sit on the floor, it’s probably easier with a bit of room.”

For some reason, André complies immediately. He feels ridiculous, sitting there in his socked feet next to the coffee table, watching James untangle a long length of rope from the pile and fold it in half.

“Right,” James comes round to kneel in front of him. “Bear with me, I’ve not done this for a bit. Hold your hands out like this.” He demonstrates, holding his hands out in front of him with the wrists pressed together. André obeys, and James wraps the rope around them twice and then wraps the short end between his wrists and around, knotting the ends. It happens in about five seconds, and André realises he’s been effectively handcuffed. 

“That was fast,” he says thickly. James is still holding the long end of the ropes, and gives it a little tug, grinning.

“Double column tie,” he says, pulling again so André tips forward and has to use his core muscles to steady himself. “Good for tying your girl’s wrists to the headboard.”

“Great,” André says, like he’s going to be able to remember and recreate any of this, like all the blood in his body isn’t rushing southwards every time James tugs on the fucking rope. 

James gives him a long glance, something unreadable in his expression that makes André look away nervously. He undoes the wrist tie and André lets his arms drop, wondering if that’s the end of the demonstration. Apparently not, though, because James shuffles on his knees to sit behind André.

“You can take your T-shirt off for this,” he says offhandedly. “If you want. It looks better that way.”

André hesitates, then pulls his shirt over his head. It would be weirder not to. If he insisted on staying fully clothed, he’d just be drawing attention to the potential awkwardness of the situation, and then James might stop entirely. 

James runs the flat of his hand across André’s shoulder blades. “Put your hands behind your back,” he says. Is it André’s imagination, or does his voice sound lower than usual, a throaty rasp to it? “Bent at the elbows. That’s it.” 

He takes André’s arms and adjusts their position to his liking, pulling his shoulders back and lining his wrists up over each other. André’s used to being manhandled—by physios, by engineers strapping him into a car—but it’s never felt like this before, an electric shock of sensation as James tugs him into place. Something aches in his chest, a desire he can’t put into words. It makes him drop his head forward, close his eyes. 

James loops the rope around his wrists, hand brushing against the small of his back as he tucks the end through and pulls it tight. There’s a bit of fumbling that André guesses is him knotting the rope, and then suddenly James is pressed up against his back, bringing the long free end around his chest. 

Before his brain can tell him not to, André leans back against James. James breathes out a chuckle against the back of his neck. His nipples are stiff beneath his T-shirt, pressed against André’s back. 

Just for a moment, James nuzzles at the curve of his neck, lips brushing over his skin. It’s not quite a kiss, but it’s close. André lets out a breath. His fingertips are already tingling, blood flow restricted by the rope. Maybe that’s why he feels lightheaded. 

“Careful,” James murmurs as he peels himself away and André’s balance falters. He presses a hand against André’s back for a second, steadying him. The skin he’d touched feels cold when he takes his hand away to concentrate on the ropes again. 

He wraps the rope around itself and pulls, the loop around André’s chest suddenly cinching tight. André gasps. 

Swiftly, James kneels up behind him, arms coming around André’s chest once again with the rope, this time tucking it up tight beneath the swell of his pecs. He pulls, hard, and André groans at the pressure, head falling back against James’ shoulder. 

“Good?” James murmurs, doing something complicated with the ropes at the back that suddenly makes everything feel stable even when he takes his hands away. He starts pushing the free end through the tiny gap in André’s armpit where his arms are squeezed against his sides, cinching the rope into a loop around his upper arm and truly pinning him in place.

“Think so,” André says belatedly, licking his dry lips. He feels slightly drunk with it, and it’s not because of the beers he’d had earlier. 

“Certainly seems like you’re enjoying it,” James says with a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and skims his fingertips over André’s waistband, just above his erection.

“Yeah, and you,” André says, too far gone now to care about escalating things, rocking his ass back to where he can feel James’ cock swelling against the seam of his jeans. 

James does laugh then, a breathless inhale.

They’ve forgotten to talk about their girlfriends, forgotten to keep up the charade that this is purely instructional. André gives it one last attempt, thinking about some cute girl, the one he’d been for drinks with a few weeks ago, maybe–how she’d look tied up like this. 

It’s no use. He doesn’t want to think about doing this to someone else. He wants to concentrate on James, right here, doing it to him.

As the thought occurs to him, James moves away, and André realises he’s completely bound.

He wriggles his shoulders experimentally, tries to squirm his hands out of their bonds. He can barely even open his elbows wide enough to move his wrists.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Easier than it looks, right,” James says, very close behind him again. His breath tickles the curve of André’s neck. He tilts his head to the side. To his relief, James takes the bait, bends to scrape his teeth over the tendons and then lick the reddened skin.

James’ right hand sneaks around his waist, hesitating at the button of his jeans. 

“Can I–” James starts, words trailing off uncertainly.

André instinctively tries to grab James’ hand and press it where he wants it, realises he can’t. He curses under his breath and turns his head to the side, pressing his forehead to James’ cheek.

“Yeah,” André manages to grit out, and James lets out a breath. He pushes a hand into André’s jeans. André’s so hard already, the tip wet where it’s been smearing against the inside of his boxers. He wonders whether James will say anything, whether he thinks it’s weird that André is so desperate already. But James just groans against his neck, very quietly, and presses himself against André’s back.

It’s—there’s so much sensation, the tight constriction of the ropes around his upper body mixed with the sweet pressure of James’ hand moving quick and sure over his cock, the warm weight of him from behind. André twists his torso just to feel the way the ropes dig into the meat of his muscles. 

“Yeah,” James breathes against his shoulder, “that’s it,” and then he’s kissing André’s neck again, properly now: mouth hungry and wet with just a scrape of teeth over André’s feverish skin. His hips are moving on their own now, fucking into the tight seal of James’ fist, threatening to destabilise them both where they’re kneeling. 

He shouldn’t look. Looking will make it real, and if it’s real then that means he’s going to have to deal with the aftermath at some point.

Fuck. He can’t not look.

He opens his eyes and stares down the line of his own body, at the way the ropes have bunched his pecs up, his stiff nipples, and finally James’ slender fingers wrapped around his dripping cock. 

He can’t help moaning at the sight. Can’t help it when his stomach clenches and his balls tighten. Can’t help it when he spills all over James’ eager fingers. 

James doesn’t even wait for him to stop shuddering through the aftershocks, just wraps his other arm around André’s waist—another point of restraint—and grinds himself against André’s arse. His bound hands are crushed between them, the covered head of James’ cock bumping up against the heels of his hands. 

Some part of André, the part he usually keeps buried, aches to pull free of his bindings and cover James with his hand, return the favour properly. But he doesn’t know if those are the rules of the game and anyway it’s too late. James’ breath goes short and choppy, his arm tightening around André’s stomach. He pushes his face into the curve of André’s neck. His hips are the only bit of him still moving, twitching spasmodically against André’s ass as he comes into his underwear.

André closes his eyes again, listens to the sound of their mingling harsh breaths. Eventually he has to squirm, reluctant to disturb the fragile peace but suddenly aware that his shoulders are aching where they’re pulled back. 

The motion seems to wake James up from whatever trance he’d fallen into. “You okay?” he says, voice rough, and then his hands are busy in the small of André’s back, undoing the knots he’d put there. 

André nods as James works to free his arms, the ropes falling loose around his chest. 

It’s a lot quicker for James to free him from his bindings than it was to get him into them. His shoulders relax, the muscles protesting at the sudden change in angle.

“Was that–” James starts, and then falls silent. The knots around André’s wrists loosen. His arms drop to his sides, no longer held. 

André takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says. “Good demonstration, huh.”

James swallows audibly behind him. His fingertips brush down André’s spine. 

“There’s more I could show you,” he says. The hesitance in his voice is clear. “If you wanted.”

André closes his eyes, counts to three, and gathers his nerve. He turns to face James. 

“Yeah,” he says, and the lurch in his chest when he sees James’ face relax into a smile is as strong as any orgasm. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

[1teeth]

I lost my stupid iPhone attachment for my car aux cord so I’m back to CDs only but that’s how I like it :)

[failfemme]

the other day i tugged on my aux cord accidentally and the metal piece broke off in the jack 🥲 tried getting it out with tweezers and it still won’t budge,,, i will try the toothpick and super glue thing next but can you believe. i lost my special iphone aux cord and the aux jack itself in one unlucky go.

[sailermoon]

The worst part of driving my moms car while mine is broken is that her radio doesn’t have Bluetooth and my stupid iPhone isn’t compatible with her aux cord 🥲 how am i supposed to listen to my tunes

[gaps-between-stories]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek of my OFMD/36 Questions AU.

The crackling of the recording filled the silence that had been suffocating Stede in the cabin of the car for the better part of twenty minutes. The radio signal had cut out around Terrace and he’d just now finally managed to get his iPhone hooked up to the aux cord after a fair bit of swearing, and, in a moment of weakness, bargaining to a higher power he hadn’t spoken to in years. 

When he'd first lost the radio signal, he’d tried the novel idea of sitting in silence with his own thoughts for a whopping total of 7 minutes before he started rummaging through the glove compartment for the aux cord he knew had to be there, dammit. 

The sound of rain falling on the rooftop had once been soothing to him – notoriously he’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat on many a road trip, greeted by plenty of ribbing from Ed when he would eventually wake up, hair somehow tasseled as if he’d slept all night. The number of accidental naps he’d fallen victim to on a rainy Sunday, Ed using his chest as a pillow as they cuddled on the couch, could rival any housecat. 

Back when life was still simple. Deceptively simple. The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on Stede. 

But now, as he sat hunched forward over the steering wheel, downing his fourth cup of coffee this afternoon, eyes straining against the dimly lit backcountry roads even this early in the evening, the rain was maddening. Like, an itch under your skin that you just can’t scratch, the sound of water dripping from somewhere that you can’t locate, broken smoke alarm maddening. 

After his desperate attempt at getting his Apple music working proved to be a more futile effort than getting an FM radio station out here, he’d settled on shuffling through the dozens of recorded voice memos he had saved. 

Anything to break the silence. 

Sighing, he gently turned the volume up as Ed’s laugh came through the car speakers. 

“Alright alright, I’m pretty shit at these things, and you all definitely want me to stop talking so you can get back to drinking. But I just wanted to say good job, crew. I’m proud of you all. Have fun, enjoy yourselves, and I'm gonna go make out with my smokeshow fiance.” 

A chorus of laughs, quite a few vocal groans, and at least one wolf-whistle followed his declaration. Someone, Lucius? shouted about 'getting a room.' 

The company holiday party was always a boozy affair, although Ed managed to make it through his speech with minimal slurring, no less boisterous for all of his efforts.

“Hey you.” Quieter, closer, more familiar. A voice filled with so much love it made Stede nearly burst at the seam. A voice reserved just for him.

“Hi,” recording Stede laughed, breathless 

Stede swallowed the lump forming in his throat, clicking through to the next recording, where he was greeted with his own voice. 

“Reminder to self: ask Lucius to look into the original owners of the Queen Anne's – " 

Click. 

“Can you repeat that?” recording Stede asked, voice clearly smug. 

Ed laughed, a sound Stede would do anything to hear right now. “What are you doing?” He asked, suspicious. 

“I’m just getting this as evidence that you said you were fine with a small wedding – city hall, no guests.” 

“Okay, yeah, fine, I want a small wedding. Although I’m pretty sure we need a witness or something.” 

“Well that’s just small details – oh.” There was a muffled sound of surprise, followed by a pleased laugh pressed between lips, before the recording cut off. 

Click. 

The sound of a waterfall. Their first anniversary, a trip to Snoqualmie. Stede had wanted to see the falls – the Pacific Northwest was still so novel to him then, he'd felt like every time he turned around there was another stunning view of mountains or harbors or evergreen forests. Ed had found his excitement amusing then, humoring him with trips up and down the coast. 

The sound of running water filled the car cabin for another minute before crunching footsteps interrupted the tranquility of it all. 

“Are you recording right now?” Ed called out in the distance.

“Mhm. I just want to remember it all!"  

There was a pause – Stede remembered that Ed had wrapped Stede up in his arms, the two of them watching the waterfall in front of a sunset that should have been painted. 

“Do you ever listen back to any of these?” Closer now, softer. That damn voice again. 

Stede hummed. “Not yet.” 

“Will you?” 

“Maybe when I miss it.” 

Click. 

Stede knew three things to be true: 

Today is July 28th, 2009. 

His name is Stede Bonnet. 

And he had been lying to his husband since the moment he met him.

[captain-daryn]

I sell appliances as a big name hardware store, and I hate seeing all these smart features. I don’t need a TV in my fridge. If I wanted to watch tv in the kitchen I would get a TV for my kitchen. It’s absolutely ridiculous. I have customers asking all the time about them. Appliances don’t last more than 5 years anymore it seems. There are too many moving parts and complicated bits and failure points built into the appliance so you HAVE to buy new appliances. Not to mention their price ranges. I have seen smart fridges go for $3-5k USD for a ‘simple’ smart fridge. You could buy an entire appliance package for less than $4000 including the washer and dryer if you get just a basic set without smart features. They make them easily broken so you have to shell out more money so that they can keep lining their pockets.

Appliances are supposed to be simple machines. I don’t need a microwave that tells me the game score. I don’t need a range I can start preheating from the other room. I don’t need a washer that has a setting I may use once a year for some super niche item that needs to be washed. Fridges keep things cold, and sometimes they have water and ice makers in them. Dish washers sanitize my dishes. Microwaves and ranges cook the food. Yet they market them for convenience. Am I really saving that much time when I could just walk 20 feet to turn on the oven before I go do things?

I just want a headphone jack back in my goddamn iPhone so I can use the million pairs of wired headphones WITHOUT having to use an adapter, and so I could charge my phone at the same time. I also wouldn’t need to worry about charging my headphones or not. Just plug them into the phone like they were supposed to be. Not to mention how easily they are lost or broken because they’re so fragile? I had Bluetooth earbuds. Especially the ones with silicone tips that go into your ears. They’re so uncomfortable and I have small ears. They fall out a lot. But the over the head earphones hurt my ears. The only comfortable earbuds I have are my apple style ones.

What I really miss are BUTTONS. I miss my slide out keyboard phones. I miss the click-clack of buttons.

Also why are there touch screens in cars now? They’re very impractical and so unsafe. I shouldn’t be able to stream the news in the car. All I need is a radio, a clock, and an aux cord input. I don’t need a 6-12” sized screen to control the temperature in my car. I’m driving, I should be paying attention to the road. Not another screen.

I feel like the late 00’s-early 2010’s was about the peak of convenience. We had functioning phones that fit in our pocket (some with touch screens), and yeah ads seemed to be frequent but not EVERYWHERE. Social media was so simple too, and each platform was unique. No everything has some sort of short video format on it that are riddled with ads and all that. It really makes me want to live off the grid and get rid of my technology. It’s so overstimulating and obnoxious. I’m tired of technology. And some people try to make you feel bad for not keeping up sometimes. Like I don’t need every streaming platform, gaming device, or new cell phone the moment it hits the market.

[atplblog]

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