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ckret2 · 10 months ago

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i know you’ve talked about bill’s music tastes before, but do you have any head cannons for other characters’ music tastes?

i.e. do you think mabel would listen to vocaloid?

Mabel: here's what we know about her tastes.

She loves Dream Boy High; Dream Boy High's VCR tape design has nods to Jem & the Holograms, which has a million songs per episodes; Mabel has Xyler & Craz play synth music to defeat Bill; Mabeland plays 80's music. She's into extremely 80's-sounding synth-heavy pop. The music she plays in dream realms is the music closest to her heart. This is the core of her musical tastes.

There's something subtly, inexplicably different about music made for cartoons vs contemporary popular music, even when they're trying to portray the same genres. I can't describe what that quality is, but it's there. Anyway, if the core of Mabel's musical tastes is rooted in or near Dream Boy High, then she probably listens to other 80s cartoon soundtracks.

She's into 2010s acts that are throwbacks to late-1990s boy bands. She'd probably also like actual 90s boy bands.

She's fluent in modern top 40 music—which is no doubt where she she picked up Sev'ral Timez. I see her as the kind of kid who just keeps the radio on all the time. (And I do mean the radio—she didn't get a phone til the end of last summer, we see her with CDs, she probably had a radio long before she tried streaming.)

She's also fluent in classic rock ballads, but it's not her preference. She's a "grew up listening to the radio stations her parents picked on a car ride" kid. I suspect her dad plays 70s/80s pop in the car (cementing her primary musical tastes) because there's another Pines into synth pop so I've decided it's genetic, and her mom plays the classic rock. Mabel knows Don't Start Unbelieving from Mabel & Mom karaoke nights.

Dipper: if Mabel grew up listening to her parents' picks on the car radio, so did he. This is where he picked up his love for BABBA. From this we can deduce that, if their dad is the 70s/80s pop music parent, their dad probably drives them around more than their mom. I think you could safely give him other disco bands as well.

He plays the sousaphone but every band kid I've ever known treats band more like a musical sport than like a musical genre—the super passionate ones might practice extra and might watch other bands' performances, but they didn't just sit around listening to marching band music for fun. However, he also practices during the summer, even though he's in another state and obviously not participating in any summer band activities, which suggests an unusual passion for marching band. I still don't think he just listens to marching band music for fun but he probably keeps hearing songs and going "oh wow I've never heard the original before, only the band version."

He picked up a couple of indie folk bands to try to impress Wendy but he's not super into them.

Ford: He was on the absolute cutting edge of new wave & synth pop in the 80s. He was into the obscure stuff. Somewhere in the shack is a pile of cassettes by new wave acts the rest of the world has completely forgotten. He and Mabel trade music recommendations: he gives her the obscure as hell stuff and she tells him about all the cool new* (*post-1982) bands he never got to see. Mabel prefers peppier songs and he prefers moodier songs but there's a HUGE overlap between their tastes.

In a better, portal-less world, Ford's taste in new wave would have had time to drift into dark wave and cold wave, and from there slid over sideways to discover goth rock. There's an unhatched trad goth somewhere in his soul. He should have been listening to Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, and The Cure. He should have gotten a black trench coat because he thought it would make him feel cool, not because he was an interdimensional criminal on the run. It's not too late for him to discover it now, but by now he should have made it miles beyond the major 80s goth rock acts, gone down half a dozen increasingly obscure genre alleys, and be burrowed deep into some weird sub-sub-sub-genre of EBM you and I have never heard of.

He has a love/hate relationship with All Star.

Stan: He liked hanging out at a 50s-themed diner in the 70s. He likes 50s music. I also think he picked up a fair amount of Spanish-language 50s rock-and-roll while abroad. Once like five years ago Soos overheard Stan playing a record and singing a song Abuelita plays and it cemented his ambition to reverse-adopt Stan as his dad.

Soos: Popular hip hop and anime/video game soundtracks. Every rap song he knows has been on the Billboard Hot 100 but on the other hand he has the demo version of the extended version of the ending theme of an anime from 2001 that was never fully released outside Japan and he's probably got a fifteen-minute story about why he knows this song even exists. He's puzzled through the shipping info of a Japanese CD website to get the official soundtrack of the most dogshit anime you could imagine. He's spent a week pouring through anime convention forums trying to track down a song he overheard someone use as their background music at a cosplay contest. Lots of 8-bit.

Wendy: You know the stomp clap hey genre? That. I have nothing further to add, you know what I'm talking about. Her heart yearns to escape to hipster city. She didn't even like Robbie's music when they were dating, she just thought it was cool he made it.

I'm not gonna go through every character I have headcanons for, you don't need all that on one post. Anyway, have a work in progress playlist. It's rigorously organized. "😀😀😀 Character Name 😀😀😀" is what each character would like listening to, "😀 Zodiac Symbol 😀" is songs about each character, "🪐🪐🪐 Flatland 🪐🪐🪐" is backstory stuff, "🌎 Earth 🌎" is either songs I need on this playlist for the vibes or songs that belong in one of the other categories but I haven't sorted them yet. Some of the sections are still empty. I think this is forgivable since the playlist is already 11 hours long.

#anonymous #ask #gravity falls #headcanons #music

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hurricaneforchange · 9 months ago

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Introduction and rules.

Hi! I'm hurricane. I live somewhere in Northern England. I'm not a member of the patriarchal society. I want a society where men and women equally rule which makes me a feminist. However I have a slightly extreme view that the world could be a better place if for a year all countries in the western world was ran by a woman. I believe matriarchy should be given a free trial with one rule only- world war 3 cannot break out.

I have bipolar disorder. Sometimes my posts might not make sense to you. But its part of the thrill for you to judge when I am manic or depressed. Good luck!

I don't wanna say what I currently do to protect my privacy and also so this post is versatile. So in other words... I'm lazy. Yes. I'm not going to do a post so I have to change it like 5 years down the line.

So... who am I then? That's a good question. I'm a writer, a performer, an artist, a bitch, a daughter, a sister, a patient, a fan... I'm a fan of animal. I'm a big halsey fan! I love Amy lee and bebe rexha. Nirvana. Sinead O'connor is officially an Angel since her death. I love Princess Diana. I support the act of emigration. I value democracy as it was in 2010s. I like alternate views. I've been down the dark Web and I don't find it scary. I have no intention to hurt anyone and never will have. I want to contribute to my country but not to society. I heavily value freedom of speech but I feel I don't have any. I am me.

So now you know who I am. It's important we set some boundaries to keep each other safe.

Don't ask me any personal questions, I won't be asking you any.

MI5 please leave me alone. I'm not interfering with your work. I am interested in counter terrorism but I will not try to join you. Not yet anyway! I probably never will.

If you are homophobic, biphobic, transphobic or racist leave my blog alone you are not welcome here.

Don't glamourise my illness or trauma because you will be blocked.

I'm writing this from my phone, don't expect much from my pocket blog.

No you can't have a face reveal.

Its my blog I can write what I want.

Ask to dm me.

I'm not an agony aunt. I won't give you advice.

I'm an activist. Let me act for what I believe in and I'll let you act for your beliefs

Respect me and I'll respect you.

No opinions unless I ask for it.

If you know me irl don't say my name in the comments.

Have fun!

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toomanysurveys9 · 2 years ago

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When was the last time you wore a full face of makeup? I don’t remember. It’s been a long time.

Do you own an iPad? No.

Who was the last non-relative woman you spoke to in person? Uhm. Probably our administrative assistant at work.

What’s the most hours you’ve worked in a week? I don’t know. Probably like 40-45.

Do you believe in karma? I do not. I wish I did or that it was real.

What temperature is your thermostat currently set to? Somewhere between 68-70.

What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? Abortion. I used to be pro-life when I was a kid. That has changed.

Are you a kind, thoughtful person?

I think so for the most part.

Do you know anyone who has a PhD?

Well, my doctor. One of our BCBAs are in the process of getting his.

Who were you dating in July 2010? Or were you single? Jacob.

How do you feel when you’re the center of attention? Depends what the circumstances are. But I generally prefer not to be.

Would you rather be a nurse or a mechanical engineer? Nurse I guess.

Do you like Starbucks chai lattes, or do you think they’re too sweet? I’ve never had them, but I’m not really a fan of chai lattes in general.

Are you and your SO facebook official? Yeah. Have been for many, many years.

Do you know how to set a formal table setting for a 3+ course dinner? No. I’ve never needed to know.

Are you in a good mood today?

Not really.

Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? A former professor.

Which would bother you more: being told you’re not likable or being told you’re not sensible? Probably being told that I’m not likeable, which is ridiculous because I generally don’t really care if people like me or not. It would just make certain things in life a bit easier if people liked me I guess.

Do you have a difficult time relating to other’s emotions? I don’t think so. I think that is a skill that I definitely have.

How many bedrooms does your house have? Technically, four. But we turned the second living room or whatever into a fifth “bedroom”. It doesn’t have a closet though.

What was the last electronic item you bought? My new computer.

Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No.

When you were 15, what did you want to grow up to be? I think I was on my FBI agent or bounty hunter kick.

Did you ever achieve that? Lol, no. Now I have the more realistic dream of being a marriage and family therapist and I am working towards that goal.

Have you ever had a dream in which you died? Many.

Have you bought a bag of potato chips in the past week? Not that I can remember.

Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not really.

How often do you buy a new phone? Every few years I guess.

Would you rather live in an apartment in the city, or a cabin in the woods? Cabin in the woods. I don’t think I would like living in an apartment.

Do you use Snapchat? Very rarely.

Have you ever driven or ridden on a motorcycle? I rode the back of my uncle’s once or twice when I was little.

Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? My mom has a borderline addiction to alcohol.

Are any other members of your household home right now? Yeah. Everyone except my parents because they’re staying at my brother’s house while he is gone.

What was your first job? And how long did you work there? McDonald’s. Almost a year at least.

What was your favorite school subject when you were in middle school? English and choir.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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The Brothers Catch the MC Dancing/Singing By Themselves

So long 2020!!! I’ve been listening to nothing but End-of-Decade Mashups and the 2010s was the decade of club bangers, so excuse me as I write a little happiness at the end of this shitty, shitty year.

Lucifer

Lucifer was in his secret study with the door closed which usually would block out a lot of distractions, but…

The MC was out in the library just blasting this… awful noise!!

Okay, maybe the noise wasn't awful - but as a classical music man, he had no use for the electronic bleep-bloops of whatever the hell they called "music!"

He had tried to put up with it for about an hour… but he had his limits. Soon enough he could feel his fuse dwindling to nothing and he just HAD to open up the door and tell the MC to keep it down!

He just wasn't expecting to find them dancing… while belting their heart out using a feather duster as a microphone…

Oh… wasn’t this amusing~?

For once, Lucifer decided that work could wait for a minute or two as he leaned against the doorframe to watch the MC do their thing, his smile could only be described as somewhere between being highly entertained and genuinely smitten with the off-key goofball in front of him...

The look went away real quick after the MC finally noticed he was there and dropped the feather duster like it was on fire. Shame… They were acting so cute before...

He still had a knowing smile on his face when he asked them to turn their music down some, but he didn’t blow up at them or anything… What can he say? He enjoyed the show. 😏

Mammon

The MC has a nasty habit of singing under their breath when they’re bored. Mammon knew this, of course, and he never stopped straining to try and hear their quiet notes whenever he could...

It was hard to do since they had long trained themselves to keep it quiet in public, but he was certain that from what he could hear, he certainly wouldn’t mind listening to more!

The only exception was when they thought they were alone… like in their bedroom doing homework for example.

Mammon had just happened to pass by their bedroom door (and not going there directly just to bother them because he felt lonely or anything...) and heard something through the door…

It sounded like the MC but different… rhythmic and melodic… That was it!! They were singing!!!

He knew he had to be careful about this... If the MC realized he was listening, then they’d stop and leave him high, dry, and wanting more...

He had to push their bedroom door in incredibly gently so it wouldn’t make any noise… The House was old - okay scratch that, ancient - and all the doors have a creak to them if you’re not careful… but oh, was it worth it…

He knew, he just knew, that he would like their voice! Good or bad, it was all them! Why did they also sing so quietly?? He felt like he could listen for hours!

And he just might have gotten the chance if he had been paying enough attention to notice that he was leaning ever closer into the doorway... The second those rusted hinges made a creak, the MC whipped around and snapped their mouth shut.

Busted...

Unfortunately, no amount of begging got the MC to start singing for him again, so he had to go back to the drawing board… Maybe he’d get to hear them again someday… right?

Leviathan

Levi had been looking for the MC for some time now to see if they wanted to play a game with him but he wasn’t finding them in any of their usual hangouts…

Their bedroom was the last place for him to check and when he stuck his head in he didn’t see them there… But he did heard the sound of running water from their personal bathroom.

He was going to leave, honest! He wasn’t going to be one of those creeps who listens to people shower (despite absolutely being perverted enough to do so) but he recognized a familiar riff coming from the room…

He knew it anywhere. It was from one of his favorite anime openings of all time!! And what’s more? He heard a new voice joining the singer like accompaniment… It was… the MC??

Levi could have probably fainted from delight right then. Even if the MC wasn’t as good at singing, the mere fact that they were singing that opening made his heart soar! Who doesn’t love to sing along to their favorite songs??

He probably should have thought a bit more before throwing the door open to belt out his favorite part like he did because, you know, even behind a shower curtain the MC was naked and definitely not expecting him... But, hey, for five whole seconds they sounded great together!

Annnnd then he ran out of the room, red-faced and shouting semi-mortified apologies right after he realized what he could have seen by doing that (*cough*nakedMC*cough*)...

Poor Levi, but at least he just scored himself a new karaoke partner!

Satan

You ever been so happy about something you just want to go for a run? Or even better, dance? That seemed to have been the case for the MC that day...

The MC’s least favorite subject had just had a test and they received their scores before leaving the classroom the next day. He knew they must have been anxious by how nervously they clutched their paper...

They had been getting tutoring help from him for weeks and it really must have paid off! Satan wasn’t able to catch up to them before they checked their score, but the way their face lit up was a good sign at least.

He was on his way to go congratulate them when… they started to dance. Right in the middle of the school. They kicked up the music on their phone then started dancing down the hallway like nothing could stop them!

It was such a random and carefree act that it frankly blew him away... You’d think a human in a school full of demons would be running, maybe even hiding, but certainty not dancing! What even was their human sometimes...??

He had to hold in some laughter to keep from getting noticed and just followed them down the hallways with a grin on his face and his phone in his hand…

He, of course, posted it to the brothers’ group chat and all of them got to see the wonderful view of the MC shaking their ass to their favorite song of all time… Oh, and they aren’t going to forget that, like, ever. Devious little shit...

Asmodeus

Asmo loves to go clubbing so dancing is just an enjoyable pastime for this man, but he never thought that he’d end up dancing in a dressing room... 🤷‍♀️

He and the MC were on their weekly trip to Majolish and the MC was behind some curtains in order to try on a new outfit he put together for them. Usually during these times, Asmo waits out in front of their stall distracted by his phone, but this time he actually noticed something...

The MC’s feet. He could see them behind the gap of the curtain moving along to the music playing through the store’s speakers… So they liked this song, hm...?

Honestly, Asmo couldn’t help himself. He ended up getting up from his seat and pulling back the curtain a tiny crack just to see what the MC was doing in their stall... Thankfully, they were already dressed, but they were indeed dancing by themselves hidden just out of his sight...

Now, how could he let them dance all by their lonesome~?

Asmo slipped into the stall himself and caught the MC by the hips, frankly any protest they might of had didn’t really last long as he guided their body along with his.

It was far from their first time dancing together and it always felt amazing when they did… Their every move fit together perfectly like a call and response and it didn’t take long for them to get lost in the music.

Eventually, a store employee began to wonder why they were in there for so long and eventually found two sets of feet in one stall… Really, they got off lucky, because knowing Asmo it was kind of amazing that dancing was all he was doing back there!

Asmo was a far too valuable customer for the store to kick out, so the two of them just got a warning not to do it again but man was it worth it…

The MC has to wear that outfit to their next club. No exceptions!! 😌

Beelzebub

You know, sometimes you just got a rhythm and beat in your soul and it pops out at the most random times… like in the middle of cooking!

Beel was coming into the kitchen looking for yet another snack for the day when he caught the MC already in there baking and… dancing?

They had their phone out to play music while they worked, hips swaying to the beat. Hell, everything they were doing was set to that pace! Every flick of the whisk and stir of the batter was just a part of their private dance sequence.

For a second, he had to wonder if he had just stepped into a musical or something? Dancing while cooking? He hadn’t seen any of his brothers mix those things before… but it worked?? Like, they made it look natural and even a little fun!

Just imagine the look on the MC’s face when Beel came up behind them and pulled them into a twirl behind the counter. It caught them so off-guard that a bag in their hands slipped and covered them both in powdered sugar!

Not that Beel cared about the mess because he just licked his lips clean and told the MC not to stop what they were doing... Which was how the others found them both covered in sugar and moving to the beat while the MC was icing the cake they just finished. 🤷‍♀️

Lucifer ended up lecturing them both about being more careful in the kitchen but they were too busy sneaking smiles to each other to pay much attention...

Sometimes the music just moves you, you know?

Belphegor

Belphie very rarely gets up from his naps without a little help. Sure, even his body needs to wake up eventually, but it normally takes some kind of outside force to drag him back to the world of the living...

So imagine his surprise when he seemingly woke up for no reason in the middle of his afternoon nap with MC… Or well, he thought there wasn’t reason, until he started paying more attention.

The MC was cuddled up to him like usual, but he could feel a hum against his arm that was coming from their chest. Steady and slow… almost soothing.

When he finally heard a noise in the air - equally soothing as the humming and in time with the vibrations - he put two and two together… Were they singing right now?

Belphie kept himself very still and pretended to be asleep just to check his suspicions and… yeah. He could hear the MC softly singing a human world song under their breath.

Must have been a testament to how besotted this cow man was with them that even hearing their voice that quietly could pull him out of his dreams.

Eventually, Belphie just had to roll over and pull them up against his chest so he could hear them better... Of course, his movement just made them stop, but any idea that they were off the hook got swept away when they heard him grunt:

“Hey, you woke me up… Don’t stop now.”

Let’s hope they know a good lullaby or two...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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sgtjamesrogers · 2 years ago

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one line, any fic!

tagged by @novasforce :)

some no pressure tags for- @marnz, @dicktective, @shhhenanigans, @fromcainwithlove, @transhorrors, @antagonistenthusiast, and @spector27.

pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

i'm only slightly afraid to revisit some of these. and i probably will not do all ten, because some of these don't need to be looked at again.

MASOCHIST - published to lj (!!) in 2010, ao3 in 2011.

"So, this is your big idea of fun? Sitting in the humidity watching snot noised brats play on dangerous metal playground equipment? I think you have the mistaken impression that because I foolishly told you my sob story last night in a fit of insanity that I secretly adore things like frolicking kittens and sparkly vampires."

"Like there's anything actually fun that you'd rather be doing," Luke tossed back at him, making a dismissive noise at him with a crooked grin.

"I'd rather be having a drink," Reid says in an undertone, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands, feeling a dull ache building behind his eyes.

TO LOVE A BEAST - published to lj for the lurebigbang in 2010.

And then there’s the gentlest of touches through his hair, long nails just lightly skimming his scalp. That’s so nice that Luke makes a contented little noise, burrowing back into the arm that supported him. The arm the supported him. Luke sat straight up, suddenly wide awake. Reid’s arms still held the position Luke had been lying, almost across his lap, supported by one arm like a child. He looks at Luke a little sheepishly, letting his arms fall into his lap.

QUALITY PROGRAMMING FOR CHILDREN 101 - first fic published only to ao3 in 2011.

“Jack, we talked about this.”

“No, you talked about this, using your patented long winded, ‘beat around the bush and also my head’ style of conversation, all I did was grunt noncommittally when you finally finished,” Jack responded with a smile at Eliot as he clapped along, and generally had the time of his two year old life. It was almost enough to make David feel guilty about outlawing Barney, except when he looked back at the tv and saw the wide moving mouth and crazily spinning eyes, and nope, absolutely no regrets.

SAME OLD LANG SYNE - published very, very pre-catws, if you can believe it.

The Soldier is gone now, but this man who wears James's skin, he's still not Steve's Bucky either. He no longer has the urgent need to dispatch with Captain America at any means necessary, but neither does he retain any of the memories before that long and terrible fall. It ties Steve in knots that Bucky doesn't even remember his own favorite color, or how he liked his burger cooked, or the way he used to wake Steve back in their Brooklyn; yanking the blanket off him with a mischievous grin and pulling him by his ankles to the end of the bed, where he'd meet Steve's grumbling mouth with his own.

A BEAST OF BURDEN. - published 2013.

"Fuck it," he says finally, ripping his side of the blankets off of himself and stalking over to the door and slinging the door open hard enough for it to bounce back off of the wall protector. The kitten automatically scurries in, leaping up onto the bed of the bed, and Louis follows it like he's approaching the gallows. He flops face down into bed, and falls almost immediately asleep.

When he wakes up, sleep grit in his eyes and mouth and reaches over to check the time the lockscreen of his phone is himself, asleep with Audrey Hepburn perched on top of his head, but that's honestly par for the course at this point.

KEEP BURNING ME UP (WITH ALL OF YOUR LOVE) - published 2014

"But you don't have paprika," she says, eyes closed.

"I have paprika," he groans, like he knows what's going to come out of her mouth next.

"But not real paprika," Barbara answers with a satisfied smile, as if that settles it.

SHOULD'VE BEEN HOME YESTERDAY - published 2/2020, in progress.

The lamp is tragically grotesque, with four taxidermied mice holding miniature instruments clustered around the stem leading upward under the lampshade; a splash picture of a mountain range. Roy thinks that one of the mice has a mustache.

“But wait, look—“

Roy gave the pull chain a tug, and a muffled speaker hidden on the base plays a tinny ‘ Born To Be Wild ’ by Steppenwolf. He grins at Jason’s immediate revulsion; it’s almost cartoonish in the pout of his mouth as Roy sings along tunelessly, using the purple gatorade in his fist as a mic.

AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD? - published 6/2022

“I… can’t get over how good your quads are, dude,” Chris whispered finally, clearing his throat. “You could really crush somebody’s head between these.” Adrian slid back down over Chris’ hips, beaming.

FOR THE LONGEST TIME - published 10/2022, in progress.

With the pack safely in his back pocket again he crouches and curls one firm hand around the back of Hughie’s neck, kissing him sweet and deep.

“See? You wanna taste like that every day?”

Their lips brush as Butcher speaks, and Hughie feels his body starting to light up again.

“Mmmmaybe?” He sighs out, just barely opening his eyes and giving Butcher a malevolent grin. “You better kiss me again so I can be sure.”

#thaaaaank you for the tag friend :)#god i haven't looked at some of these for Many Many a moon #jesse writes fic #tag game

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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Life As We Know It {Chapter Five}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta’s time for mourning was up.

As she pulled into Elain’s driveway, reality set in. It would be her first day back at the restaurant since the accident, since her life was thrown completely upside down.

She wasn’t ready

But, she had no choice.

Elain was already smiling when she opened the door, reaching out to take Nyx. “Hi, my baby! Aunt Lainy and Seph are so excited to spend the day with you, yes we are.”

“I’m glad, because Aunt Nesta isn’t so excited to not be spending the day with him,” she said, sighing.

Elain gave her sister a wistful look. “I get that. How about Cass, how did he feel going back to work last night?”

Nesta snorted. “Don’t know. He never came back. They started inventory around two this morning after last call, according to the short text I woke up to. He says he’ll be there for most of the day.”

Elain lifted a brow. “Wow.”

Nesta blinked. “He’s a bartender, what do you expect?”

“No,” Elain chuckled. “I meant: wow, looks like you two are actually communicating. I’m shocked.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “We’ve been living together for three days. If we weren’t communicating, what exactly would we be doing instead?”

Elain carried Nyx into the living room, sitting him down in the playpen she’d set up in the corner. “I mean, honestly, Az and I just figured you were pretending each other didn’t exist.”

For all intents and purposes, they had been, but they had made sure to talk about important things. Like whether Nyx had been fed, when he needed to go down for his nap and what the schedule for the next day would look like.

To be totally honest, she hadn’t even realized Cassian had her number until she’d woken up to a text from one she didn’t have saved in her phone.

“We’re…adjusting,” she finally said, watching as Nyx crawled over to the pile of toys in the corner of the playpen. “I gave him a bath last night, and he said he would handle the next one, since he had to go to work. But… Gods, Elain, giving a one-year-old a bath is exhausting. I looked like I’d just left the pool, not to mention the entire bathroom was soaked.”

Elain chuckled and shook her head. “Seph loves baths, but we’re still having them in the sink right now. She’s not quite ready for the bathtub yet.”

The baby in question was asleep in a bouncer, resting on the floor by the couch.

Nesta glanced at her watch, whatever reply she had falling from her lips. “Shit, I have to go, I’ll be late.”

“Go,” Elain said, wrapping her sister up in a hug. “The day will fly by and you’ll be home with Nyx before you know it.”

Nesta nodded, even though her core was filled with dread.

Nonetheless, she was across town in fifteen minutes, hurrying into the café just before nine. She tossed her purse behind her desk after she unlocked the door to her office and looked around, only to find everything exactly where she had left it.

With a sigh, she pulled a bottle of water out of her mini-fridge, only to find it completely warm. They must have unplugged it when they were cleaning. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She didn’t have time to think on it too much, though, because there was a knock on her office door, her manager’s voice calling her name through the wood.

Her first day back had officially begun.

Cassian was exhausted.

For the past couple hours, he felt like he was lost somewhere in a dream. Now, as he continued to stare at the shelves of liquor in the back room, he debated curling up in the corner and falling asleep.

He’d messed up so many drink orders the night before, worrying about whether Nyx was okay or if Nesta had forgotten to do anything for him. He knew Nesta was perfectly capable of taking care of Nyx, had been doing so since Rhys and Feyre had died. But he still worried about him constantly.

He yawned as he shoved a box of tequila up onto the top shelf, turning to see how much was left.

Only to find the store room empty of boxes. He let over a relieved sigh, pulling out his phone.

10:37

He knew the opener would be in at eleven, a shift that was usually his, but as the manager, he preferred to ensure inventory was done correctly, and with such a big shipment, thanks to his unexpected time off, he told them he would work the night before.

His feet damn near shuffling across the floor, he made his way into the office and sat down at the desk, to wait for Kallias. He didn’t see a reason to lock the place up when Kal would be here five minutes later to start setting up.

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he heard a knocking on the office door and sat up quickly, his feet falling from where he’d propped them on top of the desk.

Cassian found Kallias standing in the doorway, a small smirk on his lips. “Baby keeping you up at night already?”

He yawned, dragging a hand down his face. “No. Well, sometimes, but not this time. Didn’t finish inventory until about fifteen minutes ago.”

Kallias whistled. “Damn. You should’ve called. I would’ve come help.” Cassian shrugged. “No use having both of us exhausted.”

Kallias just shook his head. “If you say so. Go home, Cass. Get some sleep. I’ve got everything under control.”

Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He stood, clapped Kallias on the shoulder, and walked out to the parking lot. After hopping into his truck, Cassian dozed off.

And six hours later, he woke up, his head against his steering wall, his neck hurting like hell, and his chin glistening with his slobber.

It wasn’t an attractive sight.

After a curse, he looked at the clock on the dash, and swore again.

It was just after five.

The truck was in gear and he was speeding home seconds later. When he rounded the corner, Nesta’s car was already in the driveway.

He parked beside her, hopping out and hurrying to the back door. When he threw it open, he found her standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan. It smelled delicious.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing in the nearest chair at the kitchen table, his head dropped into his hands in exhaustion. Even after his impromptu nap in the truck, he still felt like he needed another eight hours sleep. “Inventory took way longer than usual and then I passed out in the truck.” He shook his head, letting his obvious exhaustion explain the rest to her.

“It’s fine.”

He looked up and glanced at her stiff back. She hadn’t turned back to look at him, was completely focused on whatever she cooked on the stove.

Her tone said it absolutely was not fine.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I’d been awake for over twenty-six hours.”

“Elain had to reschedule a shoot with a client tonight. She was expecting you to come pick up Nyx after you got off and got some sleep.”

He cringed. Nesta had texted him around ten, while he was still focused on inventory, asking him to get Nyx from Elain before three. He didn’t ask why, had honestly forgotten she’d even texted him.

“I’ll call her later, I’ll apologize,” he sighed.

Nesta turned abruptly and tossed the towel she was using to hold the warm handle on the counter. She was pissed, he’d seen that look in her eyes more than once. “I get that you worked and you were tired, but you have to be more responsible, Cassian.”

“I said I was fucking sorry,” he said, standing. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in my truck, but I did. I’m fucking sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, but turned back to the stove.

Cassian scoffed, and was nearly ready to bite her head off, but then Nyx’s soft cries came from the living room.

“He fell asleep in the pack and play,” Nesta said, continuing to stir what she had on the stove.

Cassian took that as his dismissal. He hurried into the living room and picked up Nyx, who was standing up in his pack and play, gripping the edge. When he saw Cassian, his hands shot straight in the air.

“Hey buddy,” he said, quietly, as he lifted Nyx out of his pack and play. Nyx instantly relaxed in his arms, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder.

“He’s probably hungry,” Nesta said, as the boys made their way back into the kitchen.

“I’m aware,” Cassian snapped.

Nesta’s shoulders tensed.

Cassian said nothing more as he opened the fridge and took out some leftover mashed potatoes, Nyx’s favorite.

“He should have some kind of protein with that,” Nesta said, her back still to them.

Cassian spun around, exasperated. “Shit, anything else you’d like to add?”

She said nothing, pretending he didn’t even speak. Cassian didn’t say anything else, but he fixed him a bottle, and set Nyx in his high chair. As Cassian shook it, Nyx held out his hands, reaching for it. He gave it to him, turning to the microwave to heat up the potatoes.

He heard plates being set down at the table and found Nesta setting two plates full of stir fry on the table.

He hesitated, but moved Nyx’s high chair closer to the table. He took the already empty bottle from him and got a small spoonful of potatoes for him. He quietly said, “You didn’t need to cook for me,” as he fed Nyx.

“I made too much,” she replied, simply, sitting across from him. She didn’t meet his eyes as she took a bite.

He watched as her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction.

As Nyx grabbed his bowl from the end of his high chair and stuck his face into it, Cassian looked down at his own plate, at the steak, broccoli, peppers, peeled carrots, and snap peas that sat before him.

It smelled delicious.

He hesitantly took a bite as Nyx clapped his hands and began to babble.

“Afraid I may poison you?” Nesta asked.

Cassian blinked, meeting her eyes. They remained like that for a moment, staring at one another, then Cassian took another bite. “It’s good. Thanks.”

“I made too much,” she repeated. “Cut Nyx up some of the steak. It’s tender enough for him to eat, just make sure the pieces are tiny. The broccoli, too. He likes broccoli.”

Cassian did as he was told without a word. He set the food in front of Nyx, who instantly had his chubby little hands on them.

“Don’t think I’ll be cooking every night,” Nesta said, in the middle of their otherwise silent meal.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Cassian said, then cleared his throat. “I can cook sometimes, too. I’m not bad in the kitchen.” A look crossed Nesta’s face that said she didn’t quite believe that statement.

“I make a mean breakfast,” he said, after chewing through another bite. “I’ll show you. We’ll do breakfast for dinner one night.”

Nesta nodded, but Cassian couldn’t tell if that was confirmation or just agreeing to shut him up. After a minute, she set down her fork and cleared her throat. “Speaking of breakfast, I’d prefer to not share the table with any friends you may bring home.”

Cassian’s brows lowered, not fully understanding. And then what she was saying clicked and he was coughing around the bite of food he’d been swallowing. He drank from the glass of water he’d grabbed, and cleared his throat, ensuring he could breathe. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“If I live here, it is my concern,” she said, going right back to eating, as if she hadn’t just brought up an extremely unexpected topic. “I don’t want Nyx to see a revolving door of women leaving either, he doesn’t need to get the wrong idea.”

Cassian could only stare at her, though when Nyx heard his name, he paused his eating to look up at her. He finally said, “He’s one, first of all, so he has no idea what that would even mean, and secondly, I can have whoever the hell I want here, and they can stay for breakfast. I live here, too.”

“Would you care to see an endless string of men coming out of my bedroom every morning?” Nesta asked, her tone light, but her eyes full of hellfire.

Cassian’s chewing slowed. No, he wouldn’t care to see that, but he’d never admit it. He wasn’t even one to bring women home...well, at least not often, but apparently she thought of him as some unhinged casanova.

“As long as you ask me to join, I don’t care who you bring home,” Cassian said.

Now it was Nesta’s turn to choke on the bite of steak she just took. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red as her eyes watered. After catching her breath and taking a long drink of water, she said, “That’s inappropriate.”

Nyx giggled, his lips covered in mashed potatoes, as if Nesta had just said the most hilarious thing in the world.

He took one last bite of his food before standing and carrying his plate over to the sink. “You don’t bring up my sex life and I won’t bring up yours. Deal?”

“Fine,” she said, picking up her plate as well and dropping it next to his on the counter. “You take care of the dishes, I’ll give Nyx his bath.”

“Fine.” That seemed to be their word to end conversations, as most of them ended with one of them snapping the word at the other, and it being repeated right back to them.

He wanted to fling more insults at her, wanted to snap that he wasn’t the man-whore she apparently thought he was. He never had been, despite the obscene amount of those stupid condoms she’d seen in his glove box all those years ago. But he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

He heard her unclipping Nyx’s high chair and then she was carrying him upstairs. Cassian was already wrist deep in soapy water when he heard the bathtub running from upstairs.

It was then that he realized he had originally told Nesta that he would give Nyx a bath tonight.

He didn’t pick him up from Elain’s.

He didn’t give him a bath like he said he would.

Maybe Nesta was right.

Maybe he was just setting himself up for failure.

As he scrubbed at the dishes, Cassian felt that sense of failure wash over him and sent a thought to Rhysand, wherever he was, hoping that his oldest friend wasn’t as disappointed in him as he was.

#snacmc lawki #life as we know it #nessian #nesta archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #cassian #snacmc

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deadpresidents · 3 years ago

Note

Have you ever considered interviewing people like authors or other historians about presidents?

You know, when I was writing bigger essays and book reviews more frequently, I did consider it. In fact, I tried it a couple of times, and realized that I'm fucking terrible at interviewing people.

I actually did two interviews back in 2010/2011ish (?) when I was living in Austin. I interviewed Nat Philbrick, the author of some really great books, like In the Heart of the Sea, Mayflower, The Last Stand, Bunker Hill, and, my favorite, Sea of Glory: America's Voyage of Discovery, The U.S. Exploring Expedition. We actually sat down and had coffee before his event at BookPeople and had a great conversation about his books and writing history in the vivid way that he's always able to do. He couldn't have been nicer or more generous with his time. And I totally forgot to record a single moment of it.

Then, I set up an interview with Marc Maron when he came to Austin. I don't remember if he was just there on his regular tour or if it was during SXSW, but I was confused because I had e-mailed his website a few days before he was in town to see if we could set up an interview if he had any downtime between sets. I didn't hear anything until that weekend and then just got a random text asking if I wanted to meet for BBQ somewhere, literally right at that moment. Since traffic in Austin is so awful, I knew I wasn't going to be able to get anywhere near there in time, so I unfortunately couldn't do it. And then the next day, I got another text asking if I wanted to meet at his hotel. So, I went to his hotel and was sitting in the lobby waiting for him or his publicist to meet me, and I got another text with a room number. I went upstairs and it was just Marc Maron hanging out in his hotel room, no publicist around, and we talked for almost two hours. I DID record that one (poorly, on my crappy 2010 phone) and it's literally just two guys bullshitting about stuff no one else would care about for almost two hours. Again, he couldn't have been cooler or more generous with his time (he also gave me a handful of cat/podcast stickers), but it wasn't an interview. It was just two guys talking.

The only other time I attempted to interview someone was a few years ago, probably somewhere in the 2014-2016 timeframe when the blog was as popular as it ever got. I took a shot in the dark and reached out to interview Bob Woodward. He actually accepted and asked when I wanted to talk. Then we played phone tag for like two weeks, but I think there was some big news story that broke and I never talked to him again. But playing phone tag with Bob Woodward for two weeks is still a personal highlight, so it wasn't all lost.

Anyway, the point of this answer is that I'm a shitty interviewer, so Oprah's job is safe.

#Me #Writing #DeadPresidents #Interviews #Nathaniel Philbrick #Marc Maron #Bob Woodward

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

dopamine and epinephrine, just don’t mix

Summary: Kuroo thinks back on his relationship with Y/N. How will those memories hold up to reality?

Pairing: Kuroo x fem!reader, Bokuto x fem!reader (platonic)

Word Count: 5351

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behaviors. Cheating allegations. Adult language.

A/N: A special thank you to @twilightwrites for this prompt.

Side note: I know the drinking age in Japan is 20, I realized as I was writing the last paragraph of this that I messed up, so we are just gonna let it slide because my head hurts lol

September – 2013

“Kuroo-san, do you understand what I’ve just explained?” He just nods, the meaning of the words is known, it’s just the weight of them that just hasn’t hit him yet. It not until he’s walking across campus, his feet dragging against the sidewalk, that the weight of his advisor’s words land on his shoulders.

You failed to maintain proper grades to continue not just in this department, but in this university. Your enrollment has been terminated.

Kuroo shakes his head, how exactly would he explain this to his grandmother? She was so proud of him for getting into university in the first place. He really was great at disappointing those he cared for lately.

* * The sidewalks are busier than he’s used to, he was always in class at this time and he ends up brushing against a few people as he maneuvers his way to the nearest convenience store. The dinging of the welcome bell draws him from the jumble of thoughts he was having. The cool air from the refrigerated unit, grabbing several cans of lemon flavored chūhai. It was cheap, didn’t taste all that great, but he didn’t care.

There are three empty cans piled next to his foot, his hand tightens around the fourth one, it caves under his fingertips. The blend of alcohol on an empty stomach has Kuroo on the verge of tipsiness.

He hears a soft laugh and feels himself stiffen when he sees (h/c) hair as his mind blanks. It’s been almost a year since he’s seen her, a flash of the malice words exchanged and the sound the door made as it was slammed crosses his mind.

Suddenly he’s self-conscious of how he looks, quickly running his fingers through his unruly hair (not that that would help) and scrabbles to pick the cans up and cram them into his bag. He doesn’t fully hear the name, but enough to know it wasn’t her, making him feel a bit ridiculous.

Dopamine: hormone and neurotransmitter that's an important part of your brain's reward system; associated with happiness and pleasure.

June – 2010

“Can you tell me where Ko-chan is?”

Kuroo turned to see an unfamiliar face staring back up at him. She tucked a stray piece of her (h/c) hair behind her ear, nervously biting her bottom lip, and Kuroo instantly thought she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. So much, that instead of answering her, he just stood there, staring.

“Bokuto-san is this way, L/N-san.” Akaashi said as he walked up behind her.

She smiled at Kuroo, apologizing for bothering him before following Akaashi over to where the rowdy ace of Fukurōdani was. Once Bokuto’s eyes fell onto the girl, he ran towards her, wrapping her into a tight hug, thanking her repeatedly for bringing his extra gym bag all the way to the training camp.

Kuroo waited until Bokuto was alone before he made his way over, trying to figure out how to work in his question. “Bokuto, who is that?” Bo looked over to Akaashi who was talking to this mystery girl before looking back at Kuroo with a sloppy grin on his face. “Why? Interested?”

Kuroo felt his head getting fuzzy, like when he held it over the edge of his bed for too long, “I was…uhm…just wondering.”

“That’s Y/N. We grew up together, but in fifth grade she moved away, just recently moved back.”

That explained why Kuroo didn’t know her even though her and Bo came off extremely close.

“She’s single.”

Kuroo felt his face start to burn, embarrassment covering it as he tried to speak, but all that came out were broken parts of a sentence. “Oh, well…I don’t…bother…just…yeah.”

** Y/N was standing in the doorway of the gym, watching as Bokuto hit down each practice set Akaashi sent his way, he truly had gotten even more powerful since they were children. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to warm up, she tensed when she felt a slight bit of weight on her shoulders.

She turned around to see a messy raven-haired boy standing behind her, his oversized red jacket draped over her shoulders. “Rooster boy!”

“Huh?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to really respond.

“Ko-chan told me to call you that.” She smiled up innocently at Kuroo and he felt himself get weak in the knees.

He mumbled something to the effect of ‘horned owl bastard’ underneath his breath which seemed to make her laugh just a little bit. He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about the state of his hair.

She turned back around, eyes wide in awe as Bokuto slammed another ball onto the other side of the court, Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if she looked at him like that, but blocking wasn’t as flashy as spikes were and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. He turned around on his heel, getting ready to head back to where the rest of his team is.

“Are you trying to play hard to get?” “Huh?” He looked back at her, she had spun around, a devilish smirk on her smirk.

“You gave me your jacket even though you only have a t-shirt on, but you don’t tell me your name or ask if I want go somewhere to talk.”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to watch Bo play, I…uh…didn’t want to bother you.”

She slipped her arms into his jacket, zipping it up, “nah, I can see Bo play at school.”

“Did you want to go talk somewhere?” “I don’t go places with strangers.” She tilted her head, giving him a knowing look.

He shook his head, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurō, nice to meet you…?” “L/N F/N. Likewise Tetsu-chan!” She grabbed his hand, “c’mon, let’s go!”

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as his feet moved on their own, following this mystery girl and he already knew that he was gonna have his hands full, not that he really cared.

* * December – 2010

“Y/N?”

The two of them were in Kuroo’s room, something they did often on the weekends, sometimes working on school work, other times just enjoying each other’s company. She’s flipping through a magazine, her chin rested on her palms as she looked over her shoulder at the middle blocker, a smile on her face. Kuroo was leaning against his headboard and couldn’t help but forget what he was about to say.

“Tetsu-chan?”

“Are you a carbon sample?” He smirked when she gave him a puzzled look, “because I want to date you.” Her face lit up as she pushed herself up, sitting up while crossing her legs as she faced Kuroo. “Oh! Oh! Oh! I have one too!” She clapped her hands in excitement, “you look sweeter than 3.14!”

He laughed before he shook his head, “no, Y/N, I’m asking you out.”

“You’re asking me out using a science pun?” His face went completely red, cheek burned as he rubbed the back of his head. “…yeah.”

“You’re such a dork!” She started laughing, falling over to the side as her giggles filled the now empty room. When she finally composed her, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, she smiled up at him, “but I guess that means you’re my dork.” “That a yes?” Kuroo held his breath, worried that she was about to reject him because looking back on it, it was kinda lame, even for him.

She crawled up to Kuroo side, leaning into it as he wrapped his arm around her waist, “it’s a proton positive?”

* * September – 2013

Kuroo staggers up the stairs, thankful that he only lives on the second floor of his apartment building. He drops his bag near the door while he kicks off his shoes as he makes his way to the closet in his room.

The apartment is pretty bare for someone to be living there. The furniture that’s there is just what’s needed, the bare minimum through the apartment. A bed and night stand in the bedroom, couch and TV in the living room area and the only reason he had a TV stand was because Kenma almost had a heart attack when he saw Kuroo had it sitting on the floor.

Y/N was supposed to decorate it, that had been their deal when the subject of moving in together came up. The plan was to get an apartment between the universities they had planned to attend and she could decorate it however she wanted, all Kuroo cared about was getting to come home to her. But it was obvious that day never happened, they didn’t even make it searching for apartments together before things fell apart and Kuroo picked an apartment closest to his school.

He’s rummaging through the bedroom closet before pulling out an old tin box, the kind that trading cards come in. Wiping off the thin layer of dust that has accumulated on the top, he slowly opens it, a flood of emotions washes over him.

* * March – 2011

“Y/N seems really happy.” Bo said, the three of them had all met up to see a movie that recently released.

Kuroo was happy that his girlfriend and best friend were also close, it made things a lot easier and he didn’t have to worry about them getting along, even if they had technically known each other longer. “I hope she is, I’d do anything for her.”

“What are you two whispering about?” She snuck up behind them, popcorn in hand, placing her chin on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Guy stuff.”

“Laaame!” She shook her head, walking towards the theatre where their movie was playing, “we’re gonna miss the trailers!”

** “Where to next?” She looked between the boys, eager to keep their night going.

“I should probably head back, I don’t want to worry my grandparents.” Kuroo glanced at the time on his phone, he knew the movie might run late but he didn’t think they’d be out this late. He felt bad as he watched her face drop, clearly not the answer she was expecting.

“Yeah, it is getting a bit late.” Bokuto agreed with a slight shrug.

Y/N dragged her feet along the sidewalk, her shoulder dropped which caused both boys to share a look.

“Is this about what we talked about earlier?” Bokuto asked, pulling her into a side hug.

Kuroo looked between them, curiosity filling him as he tries to think if she told him anything that was bothering her, but he can’t. “What did you two talk about?” She shook her head, “it’s nothing.” She looked up at him, giving him a small straight smile.

Part of him wanted to ask her again, to get her to open up and talk to him about it because it was bothering her then it bothers him, but he didn’t. He tried to find comfort in the fact that at least she could tell Bo about it, at least she had someone, but it still hurt that that someone wasn’t him.

* * May – 2011

It had bothered Kuroo for weeks now that it seemed Y/N was confiding more and more into Bokuto that she was him. He was her boyfriend, he was the one she should be going to, right? Then why was she continuously going to their friend?

His irritation started to splinter into other aspects of his life, tests that he should’ve passed he didn’t, blocks he should’ve made he missed, but the boiling point came when Fukurōdani played Nekoma and she came decked out in Fukurōdani colors, cheerfully talking to Bo and his team. He knew it shouldn’t bug him like it was, she attended that school, but what still pissed him off were the comments he heard as they walked by the team.

Comments from other team members and what seemed like potential classmates of theirs repeatedly saying different variations of how cute her and Bo looked together, what a great couple they’d make and the way that she would hang onto Bo’s side.

The game was long, Kuroo spend half the game lost in his anger and the other half moving on auto-pilot as his body seemed to move on its own. Somehow Nekoma ended up winning, but that didn’t change the way he felt as he practically stormed off the court towards the locker room. He understood how important Bo was to her, that they were best friends and had been for longer than he knew either of them, but that didn’t alleviate the anger that radiated off of his shoulders nor did it stop him from slamming the doors he walked through.

“Tetsu-chan!”

He didn’t stop, just continued to walk down the hallway and toward the main entrance, acting as though he’s the only one there.

“Tetsu-chan!” She reached out, pulling his duffle bag’s strap back towards her.

He refused to turn around, having a feeling that he’d lash out and he didn’t want to do that. He needed space, time to cool down, he didn’t want to give her the ultimatum of him or Bo and he had a feeling if he opened his mouth, that’s what he’d say.

She looked at his back, unsure of why he was so upset, his team had just won, shouldn’t he be more excited? “For someone who just won, you’re acting like emo Bo.”

Kuroo’s eye twitched, just hearing her compare him to Bo so effortlessly was painful and caused his thoughts to spiral. Did she want to be with him? Would she rather be with Bo? He clenched his fist, hating the way he felt and hating himself more for feeling that way. He hated the ugly jealousy that wrapped around his chest, weaving around his lung, making it harder to breathe as it tightened. He yanked his bag strap away from her, leaving her standing there as he stormed out.

** A few weeks went by and communication between Kuroo and Y/N was awkward and basic, simple “hello’s” and “yeah, you?” filled most of their exchanges. It all came down to Bo inviting both of them over to his place and essentially locking them in his room, forcing them to talk to each other.

“Tetsu-chan.” She bit down on her lip, tears filled her eyes, the reality of how distant they had grown weighed down the atmosphere, “are we breaking up?” “What?” His head snapped up, finally looking her. He didn’t want to break-up, he wasn’t even mad anymore, he just didn’t know how to get back to where they were. It felt weird to just try to just back in as if nothing had ever happened.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if creating a wall between them, an attempt to brace herself from the pain that seemed to be coming. She tried her hardest to keep her lip from quivering. “’Cause this is a very shitty way of doing that. You could’ve just called.”

He wasn’t sure what was going on, she didn’t look like she wanted to break up, but she sounded like she was ready for one. What sense did that make? The room almost felt hostile, “so I look like the guy that’d break up over the phone, is that what you think of me?” “Did I say that? No. But it’d be better than dumping me in Bo’s room!”

“I didn’t say I wanted to break up!”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“You hurt my feelings!” Kuroo voice raised a bit louder than it had been, both of them pausing in their spot. The tension immediately disappeared and she slowly walked up to him, an adorable pout on her face.

She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest, “I’m so sorry!” “It’s fine, it’s stupid anyways.” He rubbed circles on her back, pulling her in closer to him.

She protested, claiming anything that bothered him couldn’t be stupid and demanded that he tell her and he did. That he knew it was rather silly to be jealous of her supporting her school, but it made him wonder if she was embarrassed to say she was with him. That he knew it was important for her to have friends and he was glad Bo was one, but she wanted her to see him as someone she could go to in the same she could to Bo because as lame as it sounded, he didn’t like feeling like the odd man out.

She reassured him that it was nothing like that and told him that she saw where he was coming from. She told him that if the roles had been reversed, she would’ve definitely felt the same way that he had and that they both needed to work on their communication skills because they both agreed neither of them wanted what they had to end.

They walked out of the room together, holding hands and Bo looked excited to see they worked things out, wrapping them both in a huge hug. Kuroo thought he felt confident in what she said to him, but then he saw how she seemed to just naturally gravitate towards Bo even when he was there and that sinking feeling he had weeks ago at their game came back, this time plowing into him like a wrecking ball.

* * September – 2013

Kuroo accidentally kicks the box as he staggers to stand up, the memories proving to be a bit too much for him. But something in him made him want to see the task through, to see everything that he was holding on to, but to do that he needed alcohol.

His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, he takes it out immediately pressing the button on the side to silence it then presses it again to send it to voice mail. Kuroo knows who it is, it’s the only person who would be calling him: Kenma.

He opens the fridge, pulling out what few cans of beer he has before shuffling back to his room, flopping down in the stop that’s still warm from him sitting there just moments ago. He puts his phone on floor near him, glancing at the screen as it lights up from a text notification.

Kenma: Missed Call (4) Text Message (15)

Technically he had no reason to avoid his best friend, but he didn’t feel like he deserved Kenma’s kindness because all he had done lately was mess things up. He didn’t want Kenma to tell him everyone messes up and he can fix things since he knew that it was too late to do any of that now.

He pulls out a small pile of printed photographs, some printed out on the mini polaroid paper from the camera she wanted for her birthday. She was his first serious relationship, between school and volleyball he never really gave dating much thought, but it was different with her. She kept him on his toes, made him want to be better, he really could see a future with her, but he screwed it up and now all he had were these pictures.

Pictures that ranged from dates to study sessions, from volleyball games to random adventures through Tokyo. Looking at them made him wonder if she kept the matching ones? Did she have a box too?

A bit of beer splatters when he cracks open the tab and he frantically wiped the picture across his thigh, drying it but smearing the liquid across the photo. He wanted to believe that he tried hard enough to make things work, that he gave it his all, but when he thought back to that night, her words told him differently.

Epinephrine: surges at panic/emergency; provokes stress response— brings out arousal of extreme emotions like fear and anger.

January— 2012

“It’s really not that big of a deal!” She said for the fourth time within the last five minutes, but Kuroo wasn’t listening.

“It is!” He shook his head, pacing her bedroom, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to control what he said if he sat down, he needed to walk this anger out of him.

“He was the first person I saw, Tetsu.” She really didn’t mean anything by telling Bokuto she had been accepted into her top two choices for college, he literally happened to be the first person she saw after getting the news. They’d been dating for two years and he still got jealous when it came to Bo and she wasn’t sure why.

“You just don’t get it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to even out his breathing, he really didn’t want to fight with her.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why my boyfriend gets so upset when I tell my best friend things.”

“Because you told him first! I should know first!”

She snorted, “this is stupid. I mean honestly you sound like a child.”

“A child, nice.” He grabbed his jacket from her desk chair, shoving passed her as he walked down the hall before slipping on his shoes and going right out the front door.

She followed him, yelling at him to stop, yanking on his arm when she finally catches up. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there as she repeatedly apologized, tightly wrapping her arms around his torso.

“I don’t know why I get so jealous.” He sounded defeated and he was, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place why he felt so threatened by Bo. Maybe it was because he knew her longer, knew parts of her that he didn’t or maybe it’s because deep down he just didn’t feel like he deserved her.

“I know.” She buried her face into his chest, still hugging him. She believed that he didn’t know why he felt that way, but she was still tired of dealing with it, regardless of how much she loved him.

* * April – 2012

It was the weird time between graduation and university getting ready to start, Y/N was over at Kuroo’s, his room now filled with boxes. Things didn’t bounce back to normal the way it did before when she thought they were breaking up, after their latest fight things were kinda awkward. They still hung out, but it was mostly just them sitting in the same room both engaged in something alone.

Kuroo looked over when he heard her giggle, raising an eyebrow before humming.

“Yukie sent the group chat some pictures from graduation.” She handed her phone to him, scooting a bit closer so they could look together.

Most of them were harmless, to be fair they were all harmless, but Kuroo started to question them as they went through them. There were ones of Y/N with Yukie and Kaori and some with various team members. Then they got to ones with Bo and both of them stiffened, neither had mentioned him unless they had to since their last fight. There were ones with Bo hanging on an unamused looking Akaashi, but the one that Kuroo hated was one of Bo next to Y/N, his hand “too low” on her hip for his liking.

He pushed himself off his bed, trying to calm down, but he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to.

“Tetsu, it was just a picture.”

He made an annoyed sound, something between a scoff and a laugh, as he shook his head. “He didn’t have to put his hand on your hip like that.”

She rolled her eyes, “it’s just a stupid pose. Everyone does it!” She flipped through the pictures, zooming in on Yukie’s arm that was wrapped around her waist, “see! Look! Her arm is around me, that make you mad too?” “It’d be different if you weren’t practically begging Bo to fuck you!”

The words hung heavy between them, for Kuroo it was a weight of his shoulders to get the words out but for Y/N, it knocked the wind out of her lungs. They were supposed to look at apartments today, find one to live in together while going to college, but a fight like this wasn’t in the plans. At least not for her, she was hoping that they could mend things and start over since they’d be moving away from Bo.

“W-w-what?” Her face was scrunched up in disbelief, the words still not being fully processed.

“I mean the way you flaunt yourself in front of him in that skirt!”

“Skirt?” Her face went deadpan, “you mean my fucking school uniform?”

28 months, they’d been together for over two years and she couldn’t he said that to her, couldn’t believe that he felt that way. Tears started to fill her eyes, for months she walked on pins and needles, carefully edited her words around him and now she had to hear the person she loved the most say the worse kind of words to her.

“You know what I mean! Don’t twist my words!”

“I’m not and I can’t believe you!” She wiped the tears from her face aggressively, “I have done nothing to cause you to feel this way!”

“I’m just making it up? It’s just in my head?” “YES! Bo is our best friend. Friends, that’s all we have ever been!” She started to look around the room, trying to find the sweatshirt she brought with her, she couldn’t have this fight again.

“Friends don’t act like you two do.”

“Boyfriends don’t act like you do!” She took three steps towards Kuroo to grab her sweatshirt before she turned and walked towards his door. She hesitated, thinking Kuroo would call out to her, but he doesn’t, instead he just let her leave.

* * July – 2012

They didn’t get a shared apartment like they had planned to. Kuroo stayed in Tokyo while YN moved to Kyoto, choosing a completely different university than she originally intended. For most of their first semester in university they barely spoke at all, neither really making it a point to reach out. Ironically, if it wasn’t Bokuto they wouldn’t have known how the other was doing, how the other was dealing with the upgrade from high school to college.

Then Bokuto mentioned a Fukurōdani vs Nekoma game, invited both of them and both eagerly accepted. Which lead to a very awkward game, each sitting on the opposite side of Bokuto, who was far too busy cheering on his old team to notice. Bokuto ran off after the game, Akaashi had called, leaving the two to awkwardly walk home.

They get close to her house, both lingering on the sidewalk, kicking imaginary rocks to act as if they had something keeping them outside.

“Y/N, I’m –“

“I think we should break up.”

“Y/N, I –”

“No. I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore. I tried so hard to make this work, but what you said to me hurt Kuroo, it really hurt.”

Kuroo. When was the last time she called him that?

“I never did anything to make you think those things, I wouldn’t do that. I really did love you, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.”

* * September – 2013

It had been over a year and he stilled kicked himself for not saying anything to her that night, for letting her walk away without even trying to hold onto their relationship. But that night he discovered that everything he thought about them was a lie. He thought that he had been trying to keep them together, that he had been trying his hardest to be a good boyfriend, but he was the one who tore them apart. He was the one who got it in his head that she was acting a way that he knew she wasn’t, he knew that Bo was just her friend and what made it even worse was after their break-up, Bo and Akaashi announced their relationship.

Not only did he lose his girlfriend, the only girl he’d ever loved, but she eventually told Akaashi what happened and when Bo found out, he was livid. Even Akaashi hadn’t seem Bo as mad as he was when he called and told off Kuroo for ever thinking that about him and Y/N. Maybe all of this was what he deserved, he had been truly awful as a boyfriend and a friend, but even with that awareness, he still missed her. Still wanted her back, wanted to truly be able to fix things with her because he knew he could be better given one more chance.

* * October – 2013

Being back at home isn’t as bad as Kuroo built it up in his head to be. His grandparents weren’t thrilled that he wasn’t going to finish up this semester, but he promised them after some time, after he could clear his head, he would go back.

He picked up a part-time job at a convenient shop, just needing something to force him out of his thoughts because somehow being back at home was even worse than being alone in his apartment. Even though he knew she was hours away, it didn’t stop him from almost breaking his neck to see if every girl passing with (h/c) was her. He hadn’t seen her up close since their breakup, so he didn’t know if she had long, short, buzzed hair, hell he didn’t even know if she had colored it differently.

“You didn’t forget my (favorite flavor) tea, did you?”

Kuroo stops in the middle of ringing up a customer at the sound of a familiar voice. Over the last year and a half, he swore he had heard it several times, but this time he is positive that it’s her. He looks up just in time to see her smiling at someone that the aisle is preventing him from seeing and he feels his heart thump into his chest.

He wants to step away from the register, to tell them to just give him a moment, that’s all he needs with her to try to get her to just hear him out, but there’s a pretty long line and she disappears deeper into the store.

“Kuroo?”

He looks up from ringing up the few items that were placed on the counter and it was her. Her in person, not in his dreams or random memories that flooded his mind when was alone. He wanted to ask her to wait for him, to give him just a few minutes to talk to him, but the person next to her wrapped his arm around her and his heart sank.

“Are you on break from school?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Just thought I’d take some time off, clear my head.” He told them the total price, the mystery man handing him the amount. “What about you?” She clears her throat, shifting a bit awkwardly which isn’t missed on either man. “Bo invited us to celebrate him signing to a pro team.” “Ah. So this is…” The man quickly introduces himself, Kuroo doesn’t bother to catch his name, but the title he gives himself sticks in his mind: boyfriend. He wants to be mad, how could she just move on like that? How could she just forget everything they had and start over with this…guy?

“We should get going, Y/N.”

“It was nice seeing you.” She gives him a small polite smile, taking the man’s hand as they walked out of the store. But she pauses before going through the door and for a brief moment Kuroo holds his breath, hoping she’ll tell him she wants to talk. She doesn’t, instead she shakes her head with a small laugh and follows her boyfriend outside.

That’s the moment Kuroo realizes that he no longer has a place in her life to go back to, that no matter how hard and tightly he holds onto the memories they made, he would never get her back. And that realization shook Kuroo to his core.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Interested in more? --> Masterlist

#haikyuu!!#hq kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo x female reader #kuroo angst #hq angst #tw angst #tw toxic behavior #tw cheating allegations #tw mentions of cheating #tw adult language #tw cussing #tw: anger #kuroo tetsuro x reader #platonic bokuto x reader #hq bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader are friends

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

Note

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #henchmen deserve happiness too okay #a phantom in enchanting light #mearcatsreturns #ask #fivan ff

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avengerswriter4eva · 3 years ago

Text

5. Research

The next day was a blur. So was the day after. I couldn't focus on my work, I certainly couldn't focus on the files that I was supposed to be analyzing, and I couldn't even get focused enough to go out at night again, although that is suddenly ALL that I want to do every waking minute of every goddamned day, now that I know what I think I know.

The following day, I had pulled up all the files I did some digging at work, which I probably should not have done. But I started by searching for Natalie Rushman and came up empty – except – I frowned as I glanced through newspaper clippings about what happened at Stark Expo in 2010. One name kept coming up over and over again which didn't make any sense – Natasha Romanoff. Of course, I knew who Natasha Romanoff was. The Black Widow was infamous – a SHIELD trade secret for the dirtiest undercover missions possible. She was an ex-assassin from Eastern Europe somewhere, and she was an Avenger. Unsurprisingly, much of her file was classified, but...I stared at the picture that popped up when I clicked the link. That's just...not possible. How in the holy fuck balls was Natalie Rushman related to Natasha Romanoff, because the two of them together looked like twins. I sighed.

They weren't twins. They were the same people. Natalie had lied to me, well, forever. She was working with Tony – had to be – that was the only explanation for why she was in California, why she was with Tony, and why she apparently had a hand in taking down the idiot that had tried to hijack his suits. Now I had something else to worry about. I had to worry about her. She was relentless – when she wanted something, she went after it. I replayed the events of the previous night on loop. Had she recognized my voice? She was far smarter than I really cared to admit, and I had to acknowledge that it was at least possible.

I went straight home to my apartment that night, not giving AV the chance to run free. We had never settled on a nickname for my...roommate...so AV was the best I would come up with that it wouldn't immediately hate. I stared at my phone, thumbing my brother's speed dial number before deciding against it. I didn't need to hear a lecture right now. I closed my eyes and thought back to my hospital stay after my accident...

Five years earlier:

Eddie didn't leave my side for days. Dr. Lewis required me to stay at least 5 days in the hospital under his 'special care' given the problems that we encountered during symbiosis. By problems, of course, I meant the fact that somehow, Venom had split into two separate symbiotes, and when Venom returned to my brother, the other, white creature, stayed with me. Eddie had failed to mention that possibility – or any of the other warnings that he probably should have divulged before we began the symbiosis process, and now we were doing our best to mop up the consequences. Our parents always told us that choices and actions had consequences, and Eddie and I both ignored them regularly. Until we couldn't. Like now. I glanced over to find my brother sleeping in the chair beside my bed, and I smacked him hard in the arm.

"Wha...I'm up, I promise..." Eddie glanced around confused.

"Eddie, we need to talk." I glared at him. He rolled his eyes, but nodded, agreeing to the conversation.

"Yeah...yeah, I think we do." He agreed. Generous of him, wasn't it? I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my head back on the pillow.

"So...you and Venom..." Eddie rubbed his face with his hands. This was never a good sign.

"We kind of made an arrangement." I scowled at him.

"An arrangement?" Eddie nodded weakly.

"He totally only eats bad people n..."

"EATS?"

HUNGRY

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!?!?!" I shrieked and almost jumped out of the bed, except I was still connected and that would have been very, very bad. Eddie DID jump out of his chair, not tied down to it by tubes and wires like I was, and he stood so fast that the chair went flying behind him and he flailed his arms around to keep from falling over.

"Jesus, Parker, what?!"

"I heard something...loud...in my head." Eddie smirked and collected his chair, sitting in it again.

"Oh, yeah that happens." I blinked at him. This just kept getting better and better. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start.

"Okay. So." Eddie glanced at me expectantly.

"Your...parasite...is now two parasites. You got yours back, and I got my own."

We are not a parasite.

"Okay, not a parasite." Eddie frowned at me as I continued to maintain two distinct conversations at once. It made sense to me, and he could just learn to keep up.

"But how did you..." I sighed and shook my head.

"I'm pretty sure that it had to do with the exposure." Eddie stood, leaning down over my bed, getting right in my face. I smirked as I saw white tentacles gently appear and move him to a better distance – maybe this could be useful after all.

"What exposure, kid?" I chuckled and glanced over towards my big brother, who was now in full protection mode. A little late for that one, bro.

"Years ago, with shield. I was exposed to a terrigin crystal but nothing happened."

"A crystal? Like the stuff that creates inhumans?" I nodded.

"It was in the lab, but it exploded. Everyone thought I was going to croak, but...nothing happened."

"So, you think that is what allowed you to achieve symbiosis?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Beats me, but I know that the antibiotics they gave me after exposure sure did a number on my immune system." Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment as he thought about what I was saying.

Eddie frowned and cocked his head to the side, almost like he was listening to something.

"Venom says that your antibodies were caustic to him...which is what triggered the split." I frowned. Did that mean that this thing was going to stick around forever?

Yes.

Great.

Present Day:

I clicked on the news just in time to see that the Avengers were in Eastern Europe. Sokovia. The city was...flying? I rolled my eyes, thanking my lucky stars that I wasn't that good of an agent. Yet. Or that at least I hadn't gotten on the bad side of anyone's radar. Right?

#eddie brock #marvel #black widow #female reader #avengers #natasha romanoff #natalie rushman

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years ago

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y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #relationships i guess #internet stuff #this went in a bigger direction that i thought it would lmao #but anyway

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radramblog · 3 years ago

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Album Discussion- Shinjuku Mad

Usually on a Tuesday I like to take my time with a blog post. Listen to a full album, do a little research, put some real effort into it.

Unfortunately, time is not my ally today. So I kinda have to do one that’s a bit easier- in this case, I think I’d rather go after one of the ones that’s already on my phone, in case I have to do this on the bus or something.

(wait, I drove in today…)

Today we’re going to go into a self-titled album that is somehow not the artist’s debut. Rather, Shinjuku Mad is the second of two albums released under the name- the reason I specify as such is that one of the two (and later, the vocalist would help out again) members would go on to relative fame under a different name- Vaportrap pioneer Blank Banshee.

Peering into this album is like looking at a beta version of what was to come. It’s very much a different genre, an IDM album that completely predates Vaporwave’s explosion of popularity and Blank Banshee’s seminal album, Blank Banshee 0. It’s a solid enough album in addition to this, but it’s kind of hard to talk about seeing as there’s basically nobody who knows about Shinjuku Mad that didn’t learn about it through Blank Banshee. As such, expect a lot of BB coming up in this post.

Also a block of words, because no music videos exist for this at all. It’s one of those obscure albums.

This album opens on Cure for Fear. It’s one of those introductory tracks you often get in albums, at about a minute and a half long, with very reverb-y percussion and vocals and an almost ethereal haze of noise. It’s got these chimes that occasionally come up, reminiscent of some of the tracks from the AKIRA soundtrack, but beyond that there’s not a huge amount going on here. It does introduce a problem, however, one which we’ll get to later. It’ll be pretty evident if you’re listening along, though.

Track 2: Kowloon. I really did forget how short a lot of these songs were, with this being 2:13- the whole 10-track album clocks in at under half an hour. There’s a mix of drum machine and hollow wood percussion on this track that gives it a really interesting sort of feel, and some of the effects on the vocals feel extremely vaporwave- it’s no surprise that the dude behind this went on into that genre. Here’s where I can’t help but hammer on that issue I mentioned earlier, though.

The vocals on this album are quite weak. I know they’re very much trying to be ethereal, the reverb and falsetto make that much clear, and that style very much suits the instrumentation. But it just doesn’t sound great. It kinda comes and goes, but by and large I’d label them as subpar. I don’t really think it’s the fault of the performance either, it’s not like the bloke is missing his lines or mumbling more than is necessary for the album’s aesthetic, but there’s just something about them. They might be too loud in the mix for this kind of genre? I’m not 100% sure.

Resistor, the third track, is the best known song from this album by an order of magnitude. I mean that quite literally, as the track as over 540,000 monthly listens on Spotify as compared to Kowloon’s 32000. It’s kind of shocking, I mean for such an obscure album with zero singles, why is this of all tracks the one people suddenly latched onto?

As it turns out, it’s because again of the artist’s future work as Blank Banshee. Resistor would be reworked into one of the more popular tracks from BB0, Dreamcast, and it would appear that people got curious as to what the source was.

The thing is, aside from sharing a vocal performance, the tracks are very different. As it is, Resistor is a much faster track than the previous, driven by this fast percussion and bassline, making for a genuinely solid exercise track of all things (I say from experience). It’s got a fun little synth solo in the middle, the vocals are pretty solid (aside from like right at the end of the last chorus, holy shit), and the song’s coda and outro are a fun little bit of controlled chaos. I’d put Resistor as one of the better tracks on the album, is what I’m saying.

I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a while when discussing music on this blog- I’m going to jump through a few things. As much as I like this album, the songs aren’t nearly interesting enough to justify a song-by-song breakdown. I think if you listen to Resistor and like it, it’s probably worth chucking on the rest of the album- it is, again, less than half an hour long. But its an album where it’s more valuable on a meta level than it is sonically.

Shinjuku Mad as an album feels a lot like a hybrid between older IDM trends and the synth/vaporwave elements that would become popularised in the 2010s. There’s also tracks like Inductor, which border on rock songs with the power behind that bassline and percussion- in general much of the instrumentation is cleaner than you’d expect from an artist like this, especially considering how muddied much of the vocals get. There is a real focus on the vocals, which as I’ve discussed is a weakness of the album, but I do think it’s possible to look past that issue. There’s some really fun synth lines, some excellent percussion, and real aesthetic. Songs like Human Wave Attack feel stark and lonely, notes echoing into the void, which ironically is not at all like Track 4, Void- with synths and vocals disguising a guitar and drum line that feels extremely garage band. As in, the concept, not the program. Singularity is a song that feels again predictive of Blank Banshee’s future work, a low, slow synth track reminiscent of BB songs like Hyper Object or Metamaterial.

There are some genuine gems on here in addition to Resistor, though. City of No Tomorrow, the eighth song, has got to be one of my favourites- somehow, despite featuring none of the instrumentation typical of the genre, it’s extremely cyberpunk, a sense of struggle and futility resonant through the track. It’s the one song on the album I listen to regularly, getting myself lost in the groove of the bass and tapping my foot along to the percussion. It’s just really good, man.

If this isn’t your first time encountering Shinjuku Mad, reading this might cause you to go back and have another listen, upon which you may notice a few somethings missing. I don’t expect that to be the case for literally anyone reading this…but I needed a segue. This is because, upon the reintegration of Shinjuku Mad and its predecessor Organic Thoughts from the Synthetic Mind into Hologram Bay’s catalogue for the 2019 reissue, two songs were cut, likely for fears of legal issues regarding sampling. The version of this album that I remember has those tracks!

Those songs are Negatives (formerly track 6) and Neon Exodus (formerly track 12). Negatives is another one that’d show up as a Blank Banshee track (in this case, Gunshots), and is actually really solid? Like it integrates a raid siren into the instrumentation without having it sound weird, out of place, or, well, alarming. Neon Exodus is…wow I just don’t know this track at all. It’s fuckin aesthetic though. Welcome to this spontaneous live-reaction, I guess. I recognize the sample this is built around (and thereby why it isn’t on the album anymore) but I cannot name it for the life of me. It’s, uh, interesting. I dunno, 6.5/10?

Anyway, part of the reason I bring this up is that before I want to close this out I have some complaining to do. Said 2019 reissue was something I tracked at the time, and noticed both SM albums were releasing on Vinyl, Cassette (because, you know, nerds), and digitally. But not CD. I threw an email at the website about it, and they did eventually respond (it genuinely took like two months though), but not in the positive. The reissue had no plans to include a CD, unlike all three previous Blank Banshee albums.

But the original 2010 version of the album, along with a few slight differences in songs and in album order, does have a CD release, albeit an extremely limited one, according to Discogs. These CDs have to exist, they’re now listed on the new Shinjuku Mad website. Apparently one sold 6 months ago through Discogs. I need to find a copy, though considering on that site 7 people list it as owned and 72 (including myself) list it as wanted, it’s probably not going to happen.

And that, ultimately, is Shinjuku Mad. It’s a very odd piece of history as far as vaporwave goes, considering it’s both a prototype and also something completely, utterly different. The album is pretty decent on its own, but not mindblowing, and something you could probably live without. There are like two tracks (three if you include Negatives) that are 100% worth it, but the rest are skippable. Which is a shame, but mediocre music has to exist somewhere, right?

That I apparently haven’t discussed Blank Banshee on this blog before (aside from when I was talking about Vaperror) is actually kind of shocking. I suppose, then, that there might be some lacking context. I probably will have to do that at some point, though I probably won’t do BB0 because I like picking the hipster options- so either BB1 or MEGA. Metamorphosis didn’t really pique my interest, and I somehow missed GAIA existing in the first place and still haven’t listened to it. So if you’re interested in seeing me ramble over some of that, I’ll see you then. I mean, it’ll still happen if you aren’t interested, but nobody’s going to make you read it.

Or am I…?

#ramble #music #electronica #vaporwave #vapourwave #shinjuku mad

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