#playing music on shitty portable speakers

[naturecalls111]

[lilac--sugar]

“Give me that!” Steve snatches the little portable radio out of Eddie’s hands. He’d been flipping through the channels back and forth for the last ten minutes. Steve dials it over, settles on some 70s classic soft rock. Some station was doing an uninterrupted marathon for New Years Eve.

Eddie snorts as the mellow stylings of Chicago’s ‘If You Leave me Now’ plays through the shitty little speaker, “Seriously, Harrington?”

“Hey, it’s better than your station shuffling. I can’t help it there isn’t much good on,” For the most part it was pop music that Eddie despised and Steve wasn’t about to subject him to. All that sandwiched between a ton of adverts and over excited radio DJs popping in between each song and going on and on about how much time was left.

The two of them were sat on top of Eddie’s van on top of Point Pleasant, a scenic little outlook. Below were frozen over pastures and just beyond that, the city of Hawkins. The two had opted to use the little portable radio after Eddie admitted to not trusting his car battery to not die if he left the radio running.

There had been rumors that the city of Hawkins was putting on a firework display but no one, not a soul, knew where they were going to be. So, the party decided to split up around the best outlooks in order to find the best spot to watch them. Each group had a walkie to call around to the others when and if the fireworks went off. Somehow, Steve thinks it less divine intervention and more Robin meddling in affairs, Steve and Eddie had been paired up.

“Need another beer?” Eddie asks. Steve just raises his half drank bottle. He’d been trying hard not to look at Eddie all night. Instead, he focused on the stars above, “Cool,” Eddie says in a sigh.

Steve tries not to think much of it, doesn’t want to think how much of a total drag he must seem right now. First with the soft rock and then with the lack of conversation.

“So, like, Robin definitely set this up so that she could be with Nancy, right?” Eddie asks, causing Steve’s head to whip around, “What? Was it supposed to be a secret? You’d have to be blind to not see the way she makes goo-goo eyes at her,” He cracks a small laugh. Steve purses his lips, nervous eyes leaving Eddie’s face to look out at nothing. If Eddie had noticed Robin’s goo-goo eyes, had Eddie noticed his glances?

“Yeah, I guess she hasn’t really been subtle about it,” Steve raises his beer to his lips, takes a long sip.

“She’s going for that midnight kiss, huh?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, “Must be nice.” Eddie says as he pulls a joint out from behind his ear.

“Never had a midnight kiss?” Steve glances back at Eddie, watches as he lights up, likes the way he looks as he takes a drag. Brows pressed together, the light of the flame gently licking his face.

“Nah,” He breathes out a chuckle, “Nah, man, I’ve uh,” Smoke is rolling out past his lips as bright pink colors the apples of his cheeks, “Never been kissed.” He holds out the joint, pulls a ringlet of hair across his face, rubs it over his lips.

“You what!?” Steve ignores the joint and Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“Jesus H. Christ, Steve, it’s not a big deal!” The bright pink goes positively red and spreads across the bridge of his nose and up to his ears.

“Yes, it is!” He blurts out. Eddie’s brows furrow, the cogs turning in his head. Steve sees the moment it clicks behind Eddie’s eyes. He can feel his own cheeks burning bright as a grin spreads over Eddie’s face.

“What’s it to you, big boy?” Eddie takes another drag off the joint, doesn’t break eye contact from Steve. Steve isn’t used to this, isn’t used to being the nervous one. Only, he’d shown his hand and was now paying the price for it. He takes a breath, shuffles through the good old Harrington Flirting Playbook.

“Not much,” He shrugs. Sure, he showed his cards and there was no real going back from that, but he can act like it was intentional. It’s out there now and with Eddie calling his hand he could play it out, “Just, if you’d like,” He leans in, watches Eddie shiver, “I could,” Steve reaches out, runs his fingertips down the side of Eddie’s face, freeing a strand of hair that had caught itself on Eddie’s lashes, “Fix that,” His fingertips trail down until they’re under Eddie’s chin. Eddie easily lets Steve tip his head up, takes in a shuddered breath in anticipation. Only, Steve reaches over, takes the joint from Eddie and moves back to take a hit off of it.

There’s the smallest of squeaks to the side of him and Steve’s trying hard to ignore the heat trailing down his neck and across his chest.

Then, a few things happen in succession.

Ten, the radio switches to ‘The Air That I Breathe’ by The Hollies.

Nine, Eddie is lunging forward, grabbing Steve up by the front of his stupidly vibrant colored puffer coat.

Eight, “Steve Harrington, you Ass-“

Seven, fireworks. Bright and big and seemingly just inches from them.

Six, Steve flicks away the joint to the gravel below.

Five, Steve’s hands card through Eddie’s hair, grinning at Eddie’s mad blush lit up by the display, taking him in before-

Four, “Happy New Year, Eddie,” Steve’s leaning in.

Three, their eyes slip shut.

Two, Steve’s nose presses into Eddie’s cheek, cold tip against soft warmth.

One, their lips touch.

Fireworks. Fireworks and Eddie’s moving into Steve’s lap. Eddie’s like a man starved, finally given food. He’s all enthusiasm, pulling Steve in closer, stealing the breath out of his lungs. Steve gently coaxes Eddie, nudges him with his nose to get him to tilt his head, licks his bottom lip, gets him to part his own. It’s a new realm. Literally zero to sixty for Eddie. He mirrors Steve as he licks into his mouth.

“Wanted this for so long,” Eddie sighs against Steve’s lips. A swirl of warmth pools in Steve’s chest, relief flooding his veins. Worry that this was just a kiss for Eddie quickly blow away in literal explosions of light and sound. Neither of them care to watch the fireworks, just need the other.

“Hello? Are the fireworks at Point Pleasant? Over!” crackles “Hello!? Dingus one and Dingus two? Do you read!? Over!” crackles, “Come on guys!”

Steve pushes the walkie off the top of the van and Eddie grins at him.

“You get a few points back for that,” Eddie comments. Steve furrows his brow.

“There were points? Wait! What did I lose points on?”

“Tossing my barely smoked joint,” Eddie says simply and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Make me,” Eddie teases and Steve has no problems with doing that.

[kurbcotain]

and you can always play shitty hardcore music while using a little travel amp as a portable speaker

[byteofsoup]

The postal service is a band that you just have to listen to on CD. It's not spotify youtube whatever music. You have to play it through the shitty speakers of a portable cd player or you're not getting the full experience

[frogserotonin]

dancing - edmund pevensie

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fem!reader x edmund pevensie - modern!au

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a/n: god i was in love with this boy for so long istg, he’s just ADRYDTYBFKJFBFUIAFBUIW (that is the ugliest keysmash i have ever seen)

listen to something by the beatles when it says to 

for some reason i had your new boyfriend looped when writing this😭 idk man

is this romantic? idk...

tw: shitty writing, unedited(we die like literally everyone but susan lol) [:

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for Anika <333

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(Y/n) hummed, fully content, watching her neighbours and her younger siblings play in the sand, her music playing in the background. The Pevensie’s had moved into the house next to hers and had introduced themselves a week or so later. Lucy and your younger siblings, the twins, Max and Lola, had immediately turned their duo into a trio after finding out she was only a few months older than them. Peter had become really close with Teagan, before they’d gone to study abroad with Susan. Susan, who had usually sat by reading, or making small talk with whoever she happened to encounter. She and (Y/n) both got along with most people they met so they were fast friends.

And then there was Edmund.

Edmund Pevensie was something new. (Y/n) had never met anyone with walls as high as his were. But she’d been lucky, as she’d first met him when he was relaxing with his siblings, so he had been mostly calm. But, oh boy, when he was alone with her.

The pair had talked about every little thing there was to argue about, even recycling the same topics on several occasions. Even a stranger could tell that the two loved hearing what the other had to say. They valued each others opinions more than they would ever dare say. Edmund loved the way her eyes sparkled when she got really into what she was saying and he loved the way she fiddled with anything within reach when she was in deep thought. (Y/n) loved the way his voice randomly changed volume as he got more or less invested in what he was saying and she loved the way he was so caring towards his siblings.

And maybe she loved him, but there was no way in hell she’d ever dare even mention it to anyone at all. Not that she had to, it was plenty obvious. Well, to everyone but the object of her affections. 

“Mind if I join you?” the before mentioned boy sat down beside her without waiting for an answer, earning an eye roll and a toothy smile that made his heart beat just a bit faster and his cheeks burn ever so slightly. She failed to notice the faint colouring of his cheeks as she was trying to keep her blush under control. Here Comes the Sun was playing on the portable speaker to the left of her as (Y/n) let her head drop to Edmund’s shoulder, still watching Max and Lola run around with Peter and Lucy just in front of the water. He slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer in, the two sitting there, completely comfortable in the others company. All of a sudden Edmund jumped to his feet, a hand clutching (Y/n)’s wrist so she didn’t face plant in the sand. (play song now)

“Would you, darling (Y/n), allow me the honour of dancing with you.” he pulled her to her feet and let go of her wrist, only to offer her his hand again, this time his body halfway bowing and an ear to ear grin on his face. She smiled back, twice as wide, and accepted, giggling as she was pulled into his arms. One of his hands held her opposite while his other lay on the small of her back. Her head found it’s way back to his shoulder, this time settling in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He hummed along to the music for a bit before the lyrics started. “Something in the way she moves.” Edmund whispered huskily in (Y/n)’s ear while they swayed, his unoccupied hand tracing circles on her back. “Attracts me like no other lover.” (Y/n)’s heart was having a rave in her chest.

God, Edmund, you’ll be the death of me. She sighed internally.

“I sure hope not.” Oh hell, she’d said that out loud. “I don’t know about you but personally, I think it’d be a bit hard to charm a dead person.” His words, while smug, where spoken softly, almost shyly. 

“I think that you could charm me, dead or alive.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop the words that flew out of her mouth but after she saw how flustered Edmund was she found herself with no intentions to retract them. The pair pulled apart so as to stare at each others faces closer. He loved her eyes. They were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the joy of seeing and with each day he spent by her he found himself wishing more and more to get a closer look of those eyes. 

Neither knew who initiated the kiss but both knew that they wanted to continue it. So they did, while still swaying to The Beatles, their siblings playing further down the beach, oblivious.

[jessmaybank]

Enemies with benefits; Part 4 - Friends?

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x fem! Kook Reader.

Summary: after a while of ignoring each other, tensions start to rise, resulting in you and JJ get into an argument. However things don’t go as expected when he confesses something to you.

Warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, violence (only a little), lil bit angsty

After the impulse decision that lead you to sleep with JJ earlier this morning, you spent the rest of your day trying to avoid him. Considering the fact you used to loath each other, not conversing with the blonde for a few hours was not a difficult task. And to be honest, you were pissed at him.

Usually after you’ve done the deed with someone, they’re sweet, caring and always make you feel wanted. JJ on the other hand, decides to go back to sleep and pretend it never happened.

It’s laughable really, you actually thought the boy kind of cared about you, and that is wasn’t just the fine line between hate and lust crashing down before your eyes. How wrong you were.

The way you saw it, you had one night left of this camping trip before you go back to reality. Back to the time that you and the shaggy haired blonde had little to no relationship.

“You ok Y/N? you’ve barely said a word this morning” Kie says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your both sat on a rock next to the shore, staring out at the vast sea in front of you.

“Yeah, just thinking” you say bluntly, not sure how to explain your feelings to your best friend.

“About JJ?” She says, as if she could read your mind.

“What?”

“I’m not stupid Y/N, I know something is going on between you two. I see the way you look at him, even when your mid argument” she says, making your cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment.

“Kie I literally have no idea what your-“

“And don’t get me started on the way he looks at you”

“Your delusional” you say. In JJ’s famous words, the best method is to deny deny deny.

“I know when your lying Y/N. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m here when your ready”

“Thanks Kie, your the best” you smile, really meaning it. You don’t know what you would do without her.

“I know” she giggles, earning a small giggle from you also.

“Just.. be careful. I love J to pieces, but he’s impulsive and reckless. I don’t want you to get hurt”

Even though you already felt a little hurt after this mornings events, you were no where near ready to admit it. So you put on your best poker face and acted as nonchalant as possible.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine. Promise” you say, pulling her in for a hug.

You spent the rest of the day lazing around with the pogues. Playing drinking games, joking around and dancing to whatever music was booming out of Popes shitty speaker.

The group just finished setting up the portable beer bong table that you bought John B for his birthday a few weeks ago.

“Okay how about this, losers have to collect the next round of firewood. We’re almost out” Sarah says, and you all nod your heads.

After using the effective method of Rock Paper Scissors, You and Pope won team captains.

“Kie your with me” you say immediately, earning a smile from your best friend.

“Hmmmm… I pick John B” pope says, and you mentally sigh. That boy always wins.

“Sarah you know I love you, but you can’t aim for shit. So i pick JJ I guess” you say awkwardly, avoiding any sort of eye contact with him.

“Bitch!” Sarah says, her mouth open wide. she couldn’t blame you though, she was the absolute worst at beer pong.

JJ walks over to you and kie without a word, and you can’t help but wonder why he’s been so quiet today, yet you brush it off when the game starts.

It’s yourself against John B to start with, and you watch him throw the ball into one of your cups effortlessly.

“Lucky start Routledge” you say, retrieving the ball from the cup of cheap beer and downing the liquid in one go.

The pogues all cheer you on, except from JJ. He can’t stop focusing on the few drops of beer sliding down your sun kissed chest.

About 10 minutes passed by and the game was almost finished, the fate of your team was relying in the hands of JJ after Sarah missed her shot. Theres only one cup left on each side of the table.

“Miss this shot and I’m coming for you Maybank” you say, meaning it completely. Your very competitive.

He turns and winks at you, before flinging the ball straight into the cup in front of Sarah.

You, JJ and Kie all cheer and high five each other, wanting to completely rub it in the others faces. The three of you had no shame in slating your opponents whatsoever.

Sarah’s face lowers in disappointment, before picking up the last cup and downing her drink, her face scrunching up at the unpleasant taste.

“Well would you look at that, it seems like the fires running low. Would you guys be so kind to get some more wood?” JJ teases, earning glares from Pope, John B and Sarah.

“Whatever” pope says, before the three of them walk off into the woods to retrieve some fire wood.

“I feel like the key to winning is not having Sarah on your team” kiara says, and the three of you laugh.

It’s silent for a moment, before you make eye contact with Kie. Her eyes flick from you to JJ, before she clears her throat.

“Im gonna…go get more beer from the Twinkie” she says, earning a glare from you.

She leaves you and JJ alone, and you pour yourself a drink, the thickening silence filling the air before you decide to speak up.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask

“Shoot” he says, taking a sip of the beer in his hand.

“How are we supposed to go back to normal. Back to hating each other”

JJ’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t reply

“Maybe we should at least try and be friends” you add

JJ scoffs. “I don’t want to be your friend Y/N. Never have and I never will”

You feel a strong pang in your stomach at his words, you were right about your doubts. The boy didn’t care about you, and he never would.

“You know what JJ? Fuck you. You can’t just treat me like this. One minute your all over me and the next you insult me. It’s confusing!” You yell, your blood boiling more by the second.

“I don’t have to listen to this bullshit” the blonde scoffs, walking down towards the shore in protest. JJ never likes to face his problems, he always runs away, and he thought this time would be no different.

“Actually, you do” you say, storming after him down the beach.

“I’ve spent months not giving a shit about what you have to say. I’m not gonna start now princess” he taunts

The boy was lying, not only to you but to himself. He cared about your opinion more than he ever thought he could, and that scared him. That’s why he could never admit it, he was in denial.

You grab his shoulder and force him to turn around, hurt and betrayal being portrayed by your watery eyes.

Your so fired up by this point, you decide to give JJ a taste of his own medicine and act recklessly. Without thinking, you slap him across the face in one swift motion.

He stumbles backwards slightly, a bit taken back by your impulsive actions. And although the slap didn’t hurt him that much, you can see pain in his eyes.

“Shit I’m sorry I-“

“No, no I’m sorry. I’m an asshole” he says, feeling guilty for upsetting you.

“Wow. JJ Maybank apologising, never thought I would see the day” you say, a small smile forming on your face. He mirrors your actions, smiling with you.

“So… friends?” You say, after about 10 seconds of silence.

“I told you before I don’t want to be your friend, but it’s not because I don’t like you”

“Then why? I don’t understand” you ask, so many emotions running through your body.

“Because I…”

“What JJ?, spit it out”

JJ closes the gap between you both, walking up to you and pushing your hair behind your ear. Your so close to him that you can feel his hot breathe fanning your face, and for some reason all the built up anger leaves your body in seconds.

“Because Y/N, I just wanna fuck the word friend straight out of your pretty little mouth, okay?”

You gulp, trying to register what the boy your supposed to hate has just said to you. His words turned you on so much, your sure he could notice your eyes widening with lust.

“The things I want to do to you…” he says, his hands running up and down your waist.

“Are definitely not the type of things you want to do to your friends”

He starts peppering light kisses on your neck up to your jawline, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Then what are you waiting for”

And just like that, your lips crashed against his. JJ kissed you like his life depended on it, and to be honest he kind of felt like it did. No one has ever made him feel the way that you do, and he wanted to cherish this moment forever.

JJ breaks the kiss and grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up so your straddling his waist. You were going to kiss him again, until you look up for a second and notice a bunch of figures staring at you both from the top of the beach.

Shit.

———————————————————————

Hey besties!! I hope you like this part, I love writing this series so much!

Tags: @teelagurl558 @oldtrashbin @n3ssm0nique @ohsorandomlyme @tomsparkyr @alwaysclassyeagle @purple-vodka-99

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

pt.1: the swapping begins

-> 4-fking-am masterlist <-

b:katsuki / f.reader

genre: neighbor au, pro-hero bakugou

warning(s)!!: bakugou's potty mouth (ofc)

status: on-going!

synopsis: you had just moved into your new apartment and like every other college student under the sun, you had the worst sleep scheudle known to man.  due to this, you find yourself playing music through your speakers at 4 am. your neighbor slides you a note under your door about your ‘shitty’ taste in music, thus the note swaps begin.

a/n: the first part has arrived! hopefully, updates on this particular series won't be so drawn out since i'm planning to keep all written parts on the shorter side along with the smau parts being just easier since it's all just dialog LOL (ive done smau in the past for other things but they weren't so hot but hopefully i'm better now lol rip)

-x-x-x-

w.count: 1.3k

-x-x-x-

Why did you decide to go back to school to pursue further education again? If it wasn’t to stress yourself into early grey hairs or to rip out those grey hairs until you were bald, then why?

Collapsing over your desk- textbook open and notes out in messy piles with doodles across every edge and corner from wandering concentration- you groan. Exams were right around the corner, but you couldn’t for the life of you get your brain to focus on one thing- much less multiple things- for more than a couple hours, so studying quickly turned into a failed attempt to study.

Normally, studying wasn’t so difficult for you and you actually found it therapeutic in its own weird way. You enjoyed learning new things and the pride and wholeness you felt after succeeding to teach yourself something new was well worth whatever the process to get there was to you. But, this current college burnout was making all those end results hard to get to.

You glanced at the clock on one of the elevated shelves of your desk, the dimly glowing orange letters showing the time of 3:54 am. You groaned again, pushing your forehead into your written words and definitely smearing pencil lead on your forehead while you were at it. Maybe you’d soak up the words this way and have the knowledge transferred automatically into your brain if you pushed just hard enough.

Another dull and unrelenting amount of minutes pass you by before you officially call it quits for the night. Giving up, you walked to the other side of the room and plopped down on your bed’s edge next to one of your nightstands, your wrist rubbing your forehead to hopefully clear away the mess of leftover lead on it. On this nightstand was your radio and beneath it along the shelves and below the drawer was a collection of CDs.

In a world where albums were digital and everything was Bluetooth compatible and no one carried around a portable CD player anymore, you felt somewhat awkward sometimes at the seemingly large and ridiculous collection of yours. There were still plenty of people with CDs and even vinyls, but still- the awkwardness of your ‘retro’ thinking at your age did make you feel a bit self-conscious; no matter how idiotic it sounded.

You leaned over the bed and down to the bottom shelf cubby and grabbed a thin, plastic album case. Popping it open, the cheap plastic threatened to break and bend as you pushed open the top of your radio and placed the CD inside, shutting it again and turning it on.

A small little baby blue boombox that resembled a sort of bubble-like structure- a late birthday gift from your friends back in your hometown.

You figured if you didn’t absolutely blast your music, it would be fine to play aloud. Plus, you decided to put your bedroom in the backmost room, and the second room closer to the front room of your apartment was used for storage- since renting a storage unit was way too expensive. In your mind, the room closet to the door for a single living tenant would definitely be their bedroom- so you did the opposite when you moved in.

With your legs still handing off the side of the bed, you threw yourself back onto the mattress with your arms out to your sides. You stared at the ceiling of your room, thinking that at some point you’d need to purchase some cheap glow-in-the-dark stars to tack up there just for nostalgia’s sake.

As you heard the radio read the CD in small hums, you shut your eyes and smiled when the first track started. To be honest, you weren’t really pressed for what music you were going to be listening to, so you just kinda pulled from your cubby and popped the CD in without even looking at what you grabbed. You almost laughed when an older album your mom used to listen to started playing.

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened or when, but the next thing you knew, you were staring blankly and tiredly up to your ceiling again. The sun outside had risen and you heard birds, outside chatter, and basic roadside living outside. Even being up on the fourth floor, you could still hear the world below fairly well since you almost always had your window open with a fan inside of it.

Your body was sore from how you were laying on your back with your arms out, and you felt stiff. Legs partially numb from hanging off the bed all morning when you turned to look at your clock on the desk with squinted eyes.

Almost noon.

“God,” you moaned, forcing yourself up and wobbly making a path out of your room and into the kitchen to solve the problem of your severe cottonmouth. Stepping out of your narrow, short hall, you yawned and stopped before stepping into the kitchen when you saw a note at your doorstep. It had been slid under the front door and was face down, small blotches of black bled through to show that the other side had something written on it in marker.

More intrigued with the mysterious note than ready to deal with your dry mouth and throat that demanded water, you trotted to the paper and flicked it up. Your eyes quickly scanned the note and you gasped, slightly slapping a hand over your mouth.

‘Your taste in music really fuckin’ sucks’

Oh my god, someone heard that? Were you too loud? Was it annoying? Who in their right mind has the further room from the door other than you who did it on purpose so that this situation could be specifically avoided? Would you need to move rooms? No, then you’d have your other neighbors slipping you notes or even knocking on your door.

Maybe this neighbor has a roommate and had no choice but to take the room furthest from the door. Would you need to move out now before you died from overthinking the situation?

Racing back into your room, you tore out a sheet of lined paper and a mark erfrom your jar of pens, pencils, highlightser, what have you, and began to write in large letters a note back.

‘I’m so sorry about the noise! I’ll make sure not to play it that ungodly early again! (also, no it doesn’t, my taste in music is fine).’

You felt a little silly putting the added small text at the bottom of the paper in parentheses, but you felt the need to nip this particular neighbor’s opinion about your music in the butt- you boiled the choice down to comedies sake.

Making your way back to your door, you unlocked the bolt and unlatched the chain as you poked your head out. For it being almost the middle of the day, you made sure no one was in the halls before you jogged out your door and to the left. Your room was the furthest left room and they heard it, so clearly it had to be the left side neighbor... right?

Taking one last left-to-right look down the hall, you knelt at the door, pushed your paper under it, and dashed back into your own apartment before locking it back up. You let out a breath, as you pushed your back into the door, feeling awkward and almost embarrassed at the idea of passing notes with your neighbor. Trying to be secretive about it and acting like if someone saw you push a note under their door you’d be looked at strangely.

In a somewhat awkward way, you felt like some weird criminal.

“Whatever,” you shook your head, slapping your hands on your cheeks and heading to the kitchen. Finally ready to get that glass of water you had been craving to soothe your aching throat with. You had other things to get done today anyway. Now that you were awake, better get your day started.

Even if you may have just completely fucked your sleep schedule.

[timextoxhajima]

The Boyz as things and feelings (just cause)

this is a small thing @haechanhues​ needed help with so i decided to make it an actual post uwu [this is gonna be pretty long cause i might write little scenarios]

[THE BOYZ AS THINGS AND FEELINGS]

SANGYEON - MIRRORS AND PILLOWS

mirrors make a place look bigger than it really is - i feel like sangyeon has that ability to make you feel like you’re more important on your worst days

the things he’ll do just to make sure you’re alright, even when he knows you’re not

he also has the ability to reflect what you need: sad? he’ll come and hug you and let you cry or talk about your shitty day. happy? he’ll joke about the way you snort while laughing then he’d probably do something dumb to keep the energy up there

mirrors also feel very private and at-home, and that exactly how i feel he curates an environment

pillows are self-explanatory ig, smth to cry into, smth to fall asleep with while hugging, has the best homely scents ever, very comfortable

i imagine going home after a long day and finding your partner also tired, but he’s cooking or like in the couch watching tv and he just invites you into his arms uwu

“tell me about everything! whatever that makes you happy or sad and i’ll try my best to be who you need at that point of time!”

JACOB - FLOWERS AND MUSIC

ok like jacob with a guitar is just a stellar sight to behold, he looks like he was born to hold one, and his vocals are super underrated imo, most of tbz’s discography doesnt really suit his voice - i really wish he had a chance to have more lines in more ballads or maybe even a solo thing

he would drag you out to go on walks after he knows you’ve buried yourself in your work the whole day, and he’d be the kind to stop at a pretty flower and contemplate plucking it but he wouldn’t cause he’s a fairy and wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a pretty flower

would probably play a piece in the background while you’re stressed w work and hum a tune so the singing wouldn’t distract you

would stop when he notices you stopped working and your sad ass is probably crying lmao

he’s a very soft and gentle man imo

he’s the innocent daisy amidst other bright colored, flamboyant flowers but he still stands out

“i’ll grow you a rose bush in the yard so i don’t have to be sad about plucking flowers next time.”

YOUNGHOON - WINTER COATS AND COFFEE AND PASTRIES

he definitely radiates tsundere vibes on first sight, but when you get to know him, he’s obviously the opposite: a crybaby

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up his model-like appearances when he’s outside - in fact, he’d be the one to influence you into caring more about how you look (of course not materialistically, but more into actually caring about making yourself feel good with your fashion and appearance)

i chose winter coats as a symbol of coverage - he doesn’t show much of himself unless he’s close to you (like when you wear winter coats to keep warm, he’s a burrito because he doesn’t bother too much about sharing his feelings), but when he does, it feels like he has the ability to keep you warm and comfortable, even on the coldest days, even if his inner savage comes out

it’ll be like he scooped you into his coat and has you warm in one of this inner breast pockets

i see him as the kind to get regular coffee and like, a tart or something, at a cafe. it adds on to the warmth, when he remembers what you like. the details. maybe you like your coffee with cinnamon or less sugar or something, but then he tops it up with a muffin and he knows you like it heated up so he specifically asks for them to do so

ok but he’s defo the kind of guy that catches people’s attention at public spaces so every now and then when he’s laughing or smiling, some girl would gawk at him and he would be embarrassed about it, but lucky for you, you’re already wearing matching coats so they know the man’s taken uwu

“if only they knew how long it took to convince you to wear that coat.”

HYUNJAE - CONCERTS AND CONVENIENCE STORE DATES

classy but calm. dream-like but realistic. 

i say concerts as in the instrumental, ballad kinds. he loves it and he knows you probably need the sleep where you have that kind of background white noise/music that provides you the best quality of sleep there is. but when you’re not dosing off, he’s admiring how much time you’re willing to invest into being at something he loves

of course, in turn, he doesn’t complain much when you’re hungry and you meet him down the street at the nearest convenience store for some instant noodles and potato chips with a coke and he lets you ramble about your day 

he would probably buy you an ice cream just so you’d feel better, then regret it when you get a stomachache later cause it was like 2am in the morning

you probably have like 5 of his hoodies at home that you refuse to wash cause his scent is tainted all over it and the only time he gets to take them home is when he stays over or visits and he sneaks one into his bag when you’re in the kitchen making tea or a bowl of noodles

then you’ll get it back without even knowing it was gone

the kind that would probably surprise you after a day of work with a casual date idea to the movies, and i mean showing up at your place, impromptu, after he knows you’re home with two tickets 

“act like my girlfriend for once and go on a date with me, would you? your work isn’t going to be there with you when you die at 90.”

JUYEON - STARGAZING AND VR GAMES

as dumb and sometimes bimbotic as he seems he is, he’s gotten most of the visible constellations memorised and he would not hesitate from telling you all about his childhood with his family when they would travel and try to spot every single constellation they can remember

which brings me to the point where he remembers what you like, but... backhandedly. he doesn’t remember what you like but he remembers what you hate instead, so you don’t ever have to worry about getting that licorice flavoured jelly bean

he would offer a midnight walk to help you relieve your stress, cause he knows you just like seeing the nightsky amidst the peace and quiet while he rambles on for his own satisfaction. not everything has to be so emotionally attached and shared. you can share blissful moments without being the reason for each other’s and that’s totally fine.

juyeon is kind of a scaredy cat in the sense that he isn’t really into horror movies or games but he’s always had that dream to become a pilot and so for his birthday, you brought him to a vr game arcade where he played some plane simulator and ever since, you’ve been taking turns to surprise each other with a new vr arcade spot or adding on to the vr game console set you have at home

“maybe i should digitalise you so i can see you in the vr game”

KEVIN - KARAOKE SESSIONS AND NEON LIGHTS

the best-friend kind of partner you would come across once in a lifetime

a billion film shots of you after he drags you to the karaoke and he beats you at super intense songs like the bohemian rhapsody just cause he can hit those high notes and solely because he was screaming on the floor when he did it

almost left his film camera behind 

absolutely LOVES those walks along streets where there are a million neon lights

would come across that one sus neon light signs that indicate a sex toy store and he would give you that sly smile and probably joke for you to go in 

kevin has a moon neon light in his room and you have a star or something (whatever you want)

corrects your grammar and pronunciation, only for you two to bicker about it even more when you use google translation and there are different pronunciations depending on where/what accent you’re using

he really is your light in the dark, even if he’s known to be introverted. once he’s comfortable enough with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world

has one of those portable speaker microphones at home and he drones on and on and on with some billie eilish song until you hurl a pillow at him

“so you’re the tough girl, like it really rough girl, justcan’tgetenoughofkevingirl, chest always so puffed girl”

CHANHEE - DUETS AND STRAWBERRY PICKING

(i could not find a more candid, softer aesthetic pic for chanhee rip)

his entire wardrobe fits you - the only problem is that he’ll never let you wear it in fear that you’d stain or tear something

shared playlists because that’s how similar your taste in music is, and so sometimes when you have your earpiece in and you’re humming the melody of that song, chanhee picks it up immediately despite not hearing that song, and ends up harmonising with you

got kicked out of the library once or twice because it was exam period and the two of you won’t shut up

ironically doesn’t sing that much if you’re not around

chanhee is a true blue introvert - which is a miracle that you’ve managed to tear through that barrier of his and find out that he giggles at every stupid thing you do: he’s having a bad day? trip over the pavement. he’ll laugh. it works

dragging him out to go strawberry picking was so difficult - but of course chanhee isn’t safe from how beautiful and enticing the fresh fruits were.

didn’t touch anything strawberry flavoured OR any strawberries for the next month or so

his straightforwardness comes with the breakdown of his barrier - but that’s what brings you comfort. he will never lie, he will only be sarcastic and even then, you’d know it’s true

i used duets as a symbol of harmony and being in-sync, though never really exactly the same, and that’s how it is with chanhee. your thoughts are very similar even though he’s much more introverted than you, but that’s what binds you 

“i’m gonna tell the librarian i don’t know you if we get kicked out again.”

CHANGMIN - CITY TOURS AND MATCHING OUTFITS

city tours - the kind that you already know inside out and yet you STILL travel the area as if you were a tourist 

that’s exactly how it is with changmin: you know him inside out, after being friends for so long, but it never gets old

you’re used to him biting your hand out of nowhere and yet it startles you all the time. that stupid chucky doll in his living room? old, but it never fails to scare you

he doesn’t ever talk about it that much, but he loves it when you co-ordinate outfits

no, it doesn’t mean you wear couple tees, but it’s aesthetically pleasing to changmin that if he wears cool tones, you would too

he’d be reserved about his thoughts and feelings sometimes but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think or feel them

there’s a strange sense of familiarity with changmin, because you kind of know what to expect but then you’re never disappointed, you know?

“i got you this white pigeon cause it looks like the one i already got... you can give it back to me if you don’t like it though-” /he takes it before you can accept it/

HAKNYEON - STAND UP COMEDY SHOWS AND RUNNING ALONG THE BEACH

there’s something about ju that makes it very casual and easy-going

he hates horror genred themes so fuck that, he would queue online just for the latest ali wong comedy show, even if it’s an online show, and he would laugh until he cried

sometimes he’s a drama queen but that makes it alot easier for you to know what he’s thinking or feeling - it makes communication alot easier

that means a lack of arguments

he’s also very empathetic but straightforward, exactly like how comedy shows are - because they are relatable, they are funny because they bring out the irony and sarcasm and all the dumb things in life that people are sometimes afraid of talking about and hak just says whatever he wants to say, even if he knows it might be hurtful or upsetting

he prioritises truth and honesty over anything else

it makes you a better person, honestly

beach walks - very calming, very liberating. he lets you yell and scream and kick sand back into the water because you can, and he does it with you

tries to teach you how to skip rocks but you suck and you can’t so he just pulls you away from the pile of rocks you amassed

“flick your wrist like that, not like you’re meowing!”

SUNWOO - SOCCER FRIENDLIES AND STUDIO SESSIONS

he will NOT go easy on you in a friendly match: you might be one of the fastest players of the female team but he’s ruthless in his ball-stealing, so even if you were fast enough to keep the ball out of his reach, he’d still be able to snatch it right out between your feet

very, very competitive and does not like to lose

you would always play the ‘ladies first’ card but then he’d throw the ‘feminism’ card back at you 

sometimes you act more like siblings than anything else 

the only time when he isn’t fuming with competition is if you’re injured because he accidentally tackled you - he’ll gracefully give himself a yellow card before absolutely trashing you in the next match

has one foot into the production game recently - likes to play with the beat board and mixing tunes, and since you’ve had your hand in doing music remixes for a deejay job before, you’re there to identify which songs have the same bass line or beat counts for easier mixing

would make you a playlist of remixes but wouldn’t admit that he spent a whole day in the studio without you just so it would be a surprise

a soft boy stuck in the wraps of an egoistic man

“a day? please. i illegally downloaded half these remixes off the internet cause i’d think you’re too internet-dumb to find them.”

ERIC - BAKING AND SKATEBOARDING

full of impromptu, casual ideas to hang out 

baking is a fucking mess - why did he suggest it when he doesn’t even have the right ingredients?

wanted to replace eggs with water - like ok thats supposedly healthier, but why????????????

he likes cleaning so that was the only fucking bonus in baking - had to call his mom for help halfway through because the cookies looked more like goop than playdough

gave up in the end and he repaid his debt by helping clean your kitchen

tried to teach you how to skateboard, but he ended up falling off his own in the process and now he’s got a grazed knee 

the kind of person you’d have so much chaotic fun with, he’s that friend your mom told you to NOT hang out with that much if not you’d get run down by a car 

has the most fucking random pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, like where did he even get that pink coat from?

“no you have to do this and like lift up your leg and then kinda rest your weight on it before flicking your ankle and like- whOA- OH OW OHNO OHOHOH OW”

[unbridgeabledistances]

i love ur new fic! only a couple of requests - more parts to it! and...more softness between the two of them 🥺 we hardly get given any in the show </3

:)) ty so so much, anon!!! as requested, here’s another installment of the alternate POV fic (this time from tami’s perspective) and a whooole lot of domestic gallavich softness (featuring very sappy kitchen slow dancing)

--

Tami knew that the pandemic had taken a toll on its fair share of relationships— hell, hers and Lip’s included. But as much as she and Lip bickered and miscommunicated and regularly put up solid walls of lies between each other, at least, the very least—

At least they weren’t like Ian and Mickey.

At some point between being head-over-heels, fuck-all-night crazy for each other and getting married, something between Lip’s brother and his stellar choice of a Southside boyfriend had definitely changed. Tami wasn’t really close to either of them, other than Ian’s borderline obsession with Fred and her gratefulness for the cooing baby voice that came over him every time Tami thrust her tired arms out for him to take the screaming toddler in her arms, and she barely crossed paths with Mickey in a situation that wasn’t coordinating frozen waffles for breakfast or sitting across from him in the living room during Gallagher family movie nights that always inevitably turned into a passionate thirty minute screaming match about which movie to pick— but ever since the first time she set foot into the slumped and sagging Gallagher house, Tami knew that Ian and his choice of a prison-break boyfriend were something special, at least at the beginning.

She’d seen it the first time she met the two of them, when these two grown men were willingly crashing in that shitty single bed in the boys’ room while she and Lip were slumming it in the ever-so-spacious privacy of the cramped room with the accordion door, back when the halls were crawling with strangers making tamales and Fred was barely weeks old and Tami was inches away from losing her shit; Tami couldn’t imagine being in a smaller and more confined space than the one that she was in, locking herself in the bathroom behind an actual fucking door every chance for some peace and quiet, distancing herself from Lip every chance she got— and then there was Ian and Mickey down the hall, sleeping pressed together on a concave mattress meant for a single teenager, pouring each other coffee and trading glances as they sat next to each other at the breakfast table, and pulling each other closer every second they had the chance despite the fact that they’d just gotten out of a months-long prison stay together. There was something so earnest, and so weirdly romantic, about seeing a hardass like Mickey Milkovich, someone with “Fuck U Up” tattoos on his knuckles and more of a sailor’s vocabulary than Tami had, turn to putty whenever he was in proximity to Lip’s little brother. Tami had to be honest—she was kind of impressed. These guys clearly had the teenager, puppy-dog kind of love for each other that hadn’t really gone away, something that she didn’t think that she and Lip ever really had, or ever really would— so as much as she felt like her life and her relationship with Lip was spiraling towards a series of cascading failures, it was nice to know that at least someone in the Gallagher house had a sturdy, stable relationship.

And then, of course, the pandemic hit.

When all this COVID shit started, Tami had counted her infinite blessings that she and Lip had gotten a place of their own outside the Gallagher house before all the sprawling weeks of lockdowns; Tami couldn’t imagine the kind of unforgiving hell on earth it would be to quarantine in that tiny slumped house, in a tiny cramped room, for months on end until the U.S. tangentially got its shit together. So it made sense, really, that everything between Ian and Mickey had changed.

She’d noticed it that first morning, when she and Lip finally dropped by the house after weeks of hunkering down to have breakfast with everyone, carrying a box of cheap pastries they’d gotten on the walk over— and the first thing she’d noticed when she walked into the kitchen was how far apart Mickey and Ian were sitting, on opposite ends of the rickety kitchen table, any scarce dialogue between the two of them turned brittle and stale.

There were spats, now, and gentle shoves that turned less gentle; she and Lip weren’t around the house much anymore, thank fucking god, but what few conversations she did see between Ian and Mickey always ended with raised voices and them both practically having steam coming out of their ears, or with some stray bystander needing to plant themselves in the middle of the married couple to tell them to calm the fuck down. Tami would lock eyes with Lip as they scuffled in the kitchen, her eyebrows raised in a message that she knew Lip understood: “See, this is why I never want to get married.”

So that was pretty much the situation Tami expected to be walking into, late one afternoon when Lip was presumably off doing some shady shit with those stolen bikes and Tami was stuck at the Gallagher house waiting to meet up with him so they could keep working through “Operation Sell the Gallagher House to Gentrifiers.” Tami had expected Lip to be here a couple of hours ago, and was honestly debating just saying fuck it and going home— but Fred had passed out in Tami’s lap as they were sitting on the couch a couple of minutes ago and Tami was not going to wake this monster child up before he was ready and took another hour of crying and writhing to settle down again. Tami was leaning back, closing her eyes and enjoying a rare moment of peace in this godforsaken house… when she was snapped back into reality by the sound of a kitchen cupboard slamming shut.

Huh. Tami had apparently drifted off, but Freddie was still sound asleep in her lap, pinning her down. It was definitely the early evening by now— the sun had started to set, glowing purple from behind the thin curtains.

A clang came from the kitchen again, and Tami craned her neck as much as she could without stirring the sleeping toddler in her lap to peer into the kitchen from the open doorway to see if Lip was home— and instead, she saw Ian standing by the counter opening something with a can opener, and Mickey beside him.

It looked like they’d been in the kitchen a while—from the corner of her eye she could see Mickey perched on the countertop sipping a beer, his legs swinging while Ian milled around him pulling things from the cabinets and manning the stovetop. She knew both of the boys weren’t much of a cook, and from what she’d seen Ian’s culinary abilities didn’t exceed heating up canned soup or spreading butter on toast— but it looked like he was chopping onions and opening a can of black beans for something, which struck her by surprise. There was music playing low from a little portable speaker in the kitchen, presumably something Ian had brought down from the bedroom— right now there was some 80s hit playing that reminded Tami of the music her dad used to listen to while he was putzing around in the garage when she was little, if she was bring totally honest. But Mickey seemed to be enjoying it, his head bobbing slightly to the beat while he scrolled through what she recognized as Ian’s phone.

“Okay, the recipe website says you’ve gotta add cumin now. What the fuck is cumin?”

She could hear Ian’s dry laugh. “A spice? I think? We probably don’t even have it, I’ll just add a shit ton of chili powder and it’ll taste fine.”

“Whatever you say, Rachel Ray.”

Tami could see Ian lean to flip Mickey off, then turn to poke through the cabinets. Weird. Ian had flipped Mickey off, sure, but there wasn’t any malice in it; for the first time in a while, it seemed like the two of them were actually coexisting peacefully for once— which, thank god for that, at the very least because it meant Fred would stay sleeping on her lap for a while until Lip got home.

Now that she thought back on it, Ian and Mickey had seemed a bit more settled lately— she’d heard bits and pieces about all the stuff with Mickey’s abusive asshole of a dad moving in next door, and about the two of them starting a security business together in that random ambulance that was always parked in the street now (Tami wasn’t even going to ask)— she could imagine that running errands around Chicago together all day long in matching jumpsuits would bring anyone closer together. This was the first time she’d really seen them enjoy being in each other’s space since the pandemic started, just casually hanging out around the house without something fiery about to erupt between them, whether from anger or passion— and honestly, it was kind of nice to by in proximity to, just listening to their chatter floating back and forth and the sizzling of onions and chili flakes in a pan while the music drifted between them.

Tami sat there for a while, closing her eyes again as the shadows in the room grew deeper, listening to some Bon Jovi song play low in the background and feeling the solid weight of Fred breathing evenly pressed against her chest.

A couple minutes of minutes later, she heard the stove being turned off, and the clanking of plates being taken out of the cabinets as the song ended.

“Hey, can I pick a song?” Ian asked, over the sound of him putting the sizzling pan into the sink.

Mickey burped loudly, and Tami could see that he was still perched on the edge of the kitchen counter by the stovetop.

“Yeah, but put on something good, man. None of your techno bullshit.”

“Pass me my phone.”

Ian fidgeted with the phone for a moment—and then a familiar song, a lot softer than the cheerful drumbeats of the melodies before, came streaming through the speaker.

“I found a love, for me…”

Immediately, she heard Mickey chuckle loudly, like he was surprised.

“Fuuuucking softie,” Mickey groaned, but when Tami craned her neck again to slyly peer at the two of them in the kitchen she could see that he was grinning. At first Tami was confused, but then a memory started to stir— this was their wedding song, wasn’t it? She remembered hearing it waft through the front hallways of the dingy polka house while she and Lip were having their screaming match over Fred. Ah, good memories.

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, and Tami promptly heard the pad of Mickey’s feet hitting the ground as he slid off of the kitchen countertop.

“Dance with me?”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Mickey breathed, and then they were silent. From where she was sitting, Tami could see Ian’s broad shoulders standing in front of where Mickey had been seated— his head was curled downward slightly, and Mickey was pinned close against him, his face pressed into the upper half of Ian’s shoulder.

Well, damn. Tami smirked to herself. I guess that security business has worked some magic after all.

Out of nowhere, Fred started to stir and wriggle in Tami’s lap.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t really want to break up the sappy moment, but Freddie was definitely due for a diaper change and was going to be a fussy mess in about five seconds if she didn’t scoop him up right now.

She quickly rose from the lumpy couch, cradling the back of Fred’s head in her hands and beelining through kitchen doorway.

Instantly, Mickey nearly jumped out his skin when he saw Tami— he immediately detached himself from Ian’s shoulder and detangled himself from Ian’s arms. Ian just grinned sheepishly and leaned against the counter, letting Mickey ever-so-slightly slump against him.

Tami paused, taking the scene in and trying to hold back a knowing smile as Freddie fussed on her shoulder.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

Mickey’s neck turned blotchy and flushed, and he darted his eyes to Freddie and then back to Tami.

Tami knew she had a sloped, sappy smile on her face. “Nothing. Just good to see you guys not ripping each other’s throats out for once.”

Mickey let out a slight breath, slumping back towards Ian’s chest even more— then he rolled his eyes, but the gesture was light and fond.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. Ian was still practically beaming, and draped a hand across Mickey’s waist— and Tami watched as he slowly, slowly pressed a kiss to Mickey’s temple and Mickey’s posture immediately softened, like the air was being let out of him.

Wow. Okay. Guess the old Ian and Mickey are back.

Tami raised Freddie slightly onto her shoulder, then pushed past the two of them towards the back stairs, where Tami could hopefully go up and change her son’s shitty diaper in peace— and as she started to climb the stairs, she heard one final quip from Mickey:

“Your brother can’t sell this house fast enough, man.”

[come-on-shitty-boys]

Haikyuu But I Tell You What Car They Drive Because I’m So Head Empty - Captain Edition

Daichi:

he drives an old pick up truck 

THAT HE FIXED UP HIMSELF

none of you can tell me that that isn’t insanely attractive

he definitely put in like bass-boosting speakers don’t ask why just accept.

the windows definitely are the old like crank-style windows but i KNOW that he’ll reach over and roll your window down for you because he’s a gentleman

please it has so many issues like the passenger door is a pain in the ass to open from the inside

not that it matters because he’s going to come open the door for you anyway 🥰

drives with one hand at the top of the steering wheel and he likes for you to sit in the middle so he can put his arm around your shoulder 🥰

Oikawa:

oikawa oozes class?? so he definitely has a Cadillac

oooh with those tan leather seats???

mhmmm 🥰

does  ✨the thing✨ where he puts his hand on your seat to reverse, but when he’s done, he’ll kinda touch your arm or shoulder as he moves his hand back to the wheel??

idk why but he drives like a grandma.  HE’S SO SLOW PLEASE TOORU DRIVE FASTER

He’s the kind of bitch who keeps his front seats super neat and tidy but the back??? 

d i s a s t e r

his backpack, his volleyball bag, water bottles, his jackets, a couple pairs of shoes, everything just strewn in his backseat

you will never see him with more than one passenger for this reason

never knows if it’s his right away.  he’s constantly waiting at stop signs, just sitting there, because he has no idea if it’s his turn.  oikawa will go out of his way to use a stop light just so he doesn’t have to deal with that stress.

Kuroo:

it’s just best if you don’t ask about this one?? because i don’t know either but- 

kuroo drives a prius

idk i just think it’s really funny to think about 6′2 kuroo tetsurou driving a P R I U S and his legs like barely fit and his hair is constantly brushing against the ceiling

no one fucking eats his car. don’t you fucking dare even think about opening those fruit snacks. you can have water and that’s literally it.

has a trashcan in his backseat

he’s also obnoxiously prepared for every situation??? like he has things you would never imagine needing all in the trunk of his car.  

kuroo has some kind of superiority complex because he drives a prius like bro shut up we get it.  you’re ✨economical✨

THE MAN KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT CARS

N O T H I N G

he thought oil changes were suggestions until he nearly blew his motor.

kuroo is only book smart.  i’m sorry to tell you all that he has no car knowledge.

Bokuto:

BOKUTO DRIVES A J E E P ONE OF THE ONES WITH THE CLOTH TOPS

in the summer the doors and top are always off

please think about bokuto with sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap just driving, scream-singing every single song on his playlist

bokuto always gets aux privileges because his music taste is so good

he likes when you lean across the console to play with his hair 🥺

such a chaotic driver?? but also?? really good.

he frequently drives with his knees? like he’ll just get tired of holding the wheel so he’s just steering with his knees

takes corners way too fast.  you have no idea how he hasn’t rolled his vehicle yet.

awwwww you guys will drive out to the middle of nowhere and sit up on those top beams and share snacks and just hang 🥺

bokuto is so precious B Y E

Ushijima:

he’s another one with a pick-up truck

i think his is in a little better condition than daichi’s?? but not by much

probably shares his truck with his dad or it was definitely a hand-me-down.

the heat doesn’t work oop so ushijima keeps blankets behind the seat for whenever he drives you around.  

but also because he likes to take you out for food, you’ll go find a nice open field, and he lays out blankets in the tailgate for the two of you

does most, if not all, of his own work.  he will never take his car to get serviced because he knows how to do it all himself.  and you can bet your ass that he’s taking care of your car too.

oh your check engine light is on?? pop the hood 😤 ushijima is ON IT.  Flat tire? bring it on over.  he’s got an air compressor.  he can fill that up for you. stranded on the side of the road with a dead battery? he is on his way and he has ✨ jumper cables ✨

Kita:

please i don’t know w h y but i think kita would look so precious driving around in a mom car like this 😭😭

he has one of those little mesh nets in the trunk so his groceries don’t roll around everywhere

he also has a trash can in his car, but it’s filled with drink cups and snack wrappers because he drives the younger team members around a lot and the miyas are just always eating in his car???

it’s very organized?? like he knows where all of his important documents are.  his console has like these little organizers inside with lots of little emergency things like hair ties and bobby pins for you, some nail files, pens, a pad of paper, extra batteries, portable phone chargers.  kita is PREPARED

he’s a pretty strict driver just because he knows that it’s dangerous and needs his full attention.  so you’re not going to catch his taking his hands off the wheel to put one on your thigh or anything.

his car always smells really good.  idk it smells very homey?? if that makes any sense 😭

Daishou:

daishou is another one that seems really classy to me so he drives a luxury car like a bmw

BUT HE’S A REALLY SHITTY DRIVER

OH HE IS SO BAD

literally please never let him drive.  if the two of you want to go somewhere, you need to drive.  you can take his car, he doesn’t care, but please for the love of god, you drive.

he’s no other reason than he can get carried away in his conversation with you and he’ll get a little negligent?  or sometimes he’ll be trying to back out and he’ll turn the wheel the wrong way.  

Daishou has never gotten into a bad wreck or anything.  just small little fender benders every now and then.  he’s hit a few mailboxes trying to back out of your driveway and he accidentally rear-ended someone once but it’s never been life-threatening

his insurance is so fucking high 😭 it’s already out of this world because he drives a luxury car, but then he gets into wrecks

He’ll try to hold your hand while he’s driving. You need to tell him no.  You need to put his hand back on the wheel and make sure he pays attention to where he’s going.  Please.  It is for everyone’s safety. 

{Taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @celosiiaa​ @lovinnoya​ @kuronekomama​ and @madison-2018​ because she sat and screamed about this with me for HOURS}

[racingtoaredlight]

Acoustics and Electronics

I’ve said this over and over and over again, but it’s the most essential part of music it cannot be emphasized enough.  Music...sound...is a physical being.  It is not something that just gets translated magically from someone’s hands or mouth to your ears.

The biggest impact on the development of modern music...from say the late 40′s to today...hasn’t been anything intellectual, theoretical or artistic.  It’s been the evolution of amplification technology.

Why does an orchestra have 80+ members?  To project that sound from the stage to the farthest reaches of the venue.  But what happens when technological advances allow a single musician to project sound waves with mass and force of an entire orchestra?  What happens when you can broadcast a recording over radio waves or the internet?

All of the sudden, things contract.  And over the past 2/3-century, we’ve seen that contraction come with outrageous velocity.  No longer are we reliant on giant groups of musicians to project sound...and no longer are we reliant on teams of sound and recording engineers to maintain and operate the equipment necessary to project sound.

But as a musician, I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to understand the relation between the electric amplification and how it impacts sound waves.

***

TOP AMP (guitar):  Fender Deluxe Reverb, 22w (watts), 1 12″ speaker, 8 ohms.

BOTTOM AMP (bass):  Aguilar Tone Hammer 500, 500w, 1 12″ speaker, 8 ohms.

Which of these two amplifiers would you think is louder in a real-life setting?

***

Lets try an imagination exercise...

I’m sure most of you have at some point fucked around on a musical instrument.  And I’m sure that one of the first things you discovered was that the harder you played, the louder the instrument became.

One of the most fundamental laws in physics is FORCE = MASS X ACCELERATION.  Applied to your hands on a bass, if you just brush the string with your fingertip it will sound much quieter than if you really dug in with all the flesh in your fingertip, yanking the string away from the instrument.

Applied to soundwaves, think of them as boats.

What requires more force to move forward in calm water...a tiny kayak or a giant cargo ship?  Don’t say the kayak because you have to row because I know you want to so bad.  Dicks.  Conversely...what ship would you rather be in when waters get choppy?

The answer isn’t really easy because it’s not an apples to apples comparison.  You’re not asking a kayak to ship multiple containers across an ocean, just like you’re not asking a cargo ship to go white water rafting.  Like the physical world we live in, instruments are designed to fit a specific purpose dictated by the job they’re required to do...

***

Which brings us to our real-life application acoustics...

In earlier posts that touched on acoustics, I mentioned how different types of sound waves react differently when interacting with other sound waves.  It’s the reason why four trumpets can be heard as well as 18 violins.  Horn sound waves are like bulldozers, violins are like serrated knives.  It would take you a lot more effort to cut down a tree with a serrated knife than a bulldozer.

When looking at the guitar and bass though, the sound waves are similar enough that we can focus more on the physical aspect of amplification.  I.e. the force needed to project those sound waves...

Lets suppose that a guitar and bass’ sound waves are sustained for the exact same amount of time.  Now let me ask you an insultingly simple question...which instrument is bigger?

The bass, right?  Yes.  The bass.  And as we know from our study of physics, as the mass of something grows, it’s frequency decreases...you will never find a cargo ship that can accelerate as quickly as a cigarette boat.  It’s not physically possible.

Even when a guitar and bass play the same notes in the same register that overlaps between the two instruments, the frequencies of those notes on the bass will be lower because of increased mass of the instrument itself.  Frequency is determined by the distance between sound waves’ peaks and valleys, not by the speed in which those sound waves oscillate.  If this were the case, that hypothetical note you played really hard above would be a different pitch entirely.

***

Back to the question above about which amplifier is louder in a real-life setting...and gets us into the discussion about electronics.

When played at their optimal volumes, the two amplifiers will be pretty much spot on.  You could quibble and get into the science at a granular level, but in terms of practical application of these amplifiers, they’re close enough for government work.

We have an audience.  The bass and guitar needs to be equalized in terms of volume.  So then how could an amp that delivers 22w of power be the same as one with 500w?

The acoustic answer is that guitar’s sound waves have less mass but more acceleration.  The bass has more mass and its sound waves need more acceleration in order to keep up with the guitar.  Simplified, those watts are accelerating the vibrations picked up by the guitar’s/bass’ magnetic pickups.

Now lets get even more confusing...

***

*DISCLAIMER:  I am not an electrician, have only a very basic, practical understanding of this shit as to how it applies to actual playing...so if I’m wrong on some stuff, feel free to correct.

Both amps had an impedance of 8 ohms.  Ohms are a measure of resistance to an electric current...meaning if your amplifier (home stereo, guitar/bass, PA, whatever) is sending out a signal to a single 8 ohm speaker, it will encounter 8 ohms of resistance.

In real-world terms, what this means is that the wattage rating on those amplifiers with 8 ohm speakers is effectively cut in half.  It would be about a 15w rating for the Fender and a 300w rating for the Aguilar.

The more speakers you add, the more resistance you should experience...but it’s not that simple.  Say we add another 12″ speaker to either amp...if we wire it in series (amp > speaker 1 > speaker 2), the resistance is doubled because that single current gets 8 ohm of impedance from the first speaker, and then 8 more ohm from the second.

But if we wire in parallel, where the amplifier sends a signal to each speaker individually, you can use the full output of the amplifier (assuming it’s rated at 4 ohm max).

Why is this important?  For one extremely simple reason...

Say you send 4 ohm of signal to an 8 ohm speaker using that bass amp rated at 500w.  Your single 12″ speaker might have a max load of 400w...at 8 ohms it’s only getting about 300w, definitely safe for the speaker.  But what happens if you send all 500 of those roided up at 4 ohm watts to an 8 ohm speaker...

It’s too much current for the speaker to handle.  It might not happen immediately (though your shitty sound would certainly be noticeable), but at some point in the very near future (i.e. that same day), your speaker will blow.  This might come as a surprise to some of you, but it’s really hard to project sound waves when your speaker is smoking.

***

This is getting really long so I’ll try to finish it up quickly...

That picture at the top of the page?  The wall of Marshall amps?  Very useful in the days of antiquated PA systems and sound engineers figuring shit out on the fly.  In today’s world?  Vanity.

I know that he’s not a favorite of many here in the comments, but look at Trey Anastasio’s setup.  Ignoring personal preferences, Phish routinely plays in front of 25,000+ people, in venues ranging from outdoor festivals to giant indoor arenas to historic clubs...and he doesn’t need anything more than a single 2x12 speaker combo.  For awhile, he only had two of those 1x12 Fender Deluxe Reverb amps...which was beyond adequate for a place the size of Madison Square Garden.

Contrast that with Yngwie Malmsteen’s wall of Marshalls playing a 5,000 seat theater.

You needed amplification like that back in the day to project sound in massive stadium or arena concerts/festivals.  But in today’s era of mega efficient PA systems and automated sound engineering software, they’re pointless.  Today’s PA systems will project equalized sound with far greater fidelity, consistency and portability than any rig a musician could haul.

I go “direct in” on every single gig we play and use my tiny amp as a stage monitor so the band can hear me.  We use the Bose Stick PA for every gig that doesn’t have a PA system, and we did an outdoor show for 500+ people with power to spare.  This whole PA system takes 3 minutes to tear down and weighs probably 40 lbs total.

More importantly it takes all the guesswork out of having to get bass amps.  Given the venues and band formats we play in, I’d need probably 3 different speaker configurations to get the same consistency that simply going directly into the Bose Stick gives me every single time.

It saves musicians money (from having to buy equipment), time (from having to set up equipment) and headaches (from having to think about equipment).  Looking at those Marshall stacks again, do you realize how expensive that would be to transport, set up and, shit, BUY?  You’d have to hire multiple people who’s job it was simply to schlep that shit around.

And why?  Not for any sound benefit.  Not for anything functional or to account for the basic laws of physics.  Simply for vanity.

***

I think my point ultimately was “know your shit” but I dunno.  I just find this shit fascinating.

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 9: Electric

So Let It Out and Let It In

General / Rock Star!Dean & Cellist!Castiel / destiel if you squint / 2,300 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Dean Winchester, bundled in a ratty hoodie with dark sunglasses and a ball cap, kept his head down as he trailed behind the gaggle of people surrounding his brother. It was as close to a real campus tour as the kid was going to get with Dean tagging along, and Sam, stubborn as always, insisted that Dean accompany him. Not that Dean didn’t want to, he just knew what a liability his presence was.

As they passed what the recruiter called The Oval, Dean could hear his latest single blaring from a portable speaker somewhere on the lawn. A few of the campus guides turned to glance at him, and he pretended not to notice. This was Sam’s day.

Sam craned his neck, looking over his shoulder and grinning, jabbing a subtle finger towards the lawn and tapping an ear. Dean pulled his sunglasses down so the kid could see him roll his eyes then flicked his fingers, bidding him focus. A young blond fell into step next to him.

“Is it still exciting hearing yourself on the radio?”

Dean didn’t look at her. “Never gets old.” Conversations like this, however….

“I’m… I’m sure you get this a lot but I really love you music. When they asked for volunteers to help you tour the campus-”

“My brother,” Dean cut her off, still not looking at her. “My brother is touring the campus. Sam graduated high school with a 4.5 GPA despite never setting foot in a classrom, Idn’t that right Sammy?” Dean kicked his foot out, managing to hit his brother right on the ass.

Sam stumbled and glared over his shoulder at his brother, reaching up a hand to flatten the hair that flopped into his eyes. “It’s Sam. Sammy’s a chubby twelve year old with acne.”

Dean chuckled, but it died in his throat as he felt the girl loop her arm through his casually. “Stanford is a good choice. Close enough to L.A. for frequent visits.”

“Sam hates L.A. I double he’ll be visiting.” Dean slipped his arm free and took a few quick steps to fall in line next to Sam, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Lotta beautiful women here,” Dean made a point to check out a girl as she ran past, hearing the blond behind him huff.

Sam looked over his shoulder and glared, elbowing Dean in the ribs gently. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean, this might interest you..” One of the student ambassadors piped up, and Dean took in a measured breath, trying very hard not to be annoyed. “Bing Concert Hall. Our music department is-”

“Sam’s pre-law,” Dean replied sharply, and the group stopped, looking at each other and then at the ground.

“I like music though,” Sam said after a moment and then chuckled. “Obviously. Can we go in?”

“Sam-“

“Dean, after seeing you play on every stage on the face of the planet I cannot spend four years at a venue with shitty acoustics.”

Dean’s mouth popped open as the rest of the group laughed and moved up the steps chattering about different concerts they’d seen and where they’d seen them. Dean scurried after, catching the massive door before it closed in his face, grumbling to himself as he listened to Sam relay the various places around the world Dean had played and argued the merits of their acoustical properties. The kid couldn’t play an instrument to save his life or carry a tune in a bucket, but he could wax poetic on tonality and sound quality with the best of them.

They were in the lobby, getting the rundown on the types of events held there when something buzzed at the back of Dean’s neck right along his hairline. A tune, barely audible where he stood though he was sure he heard it and found himself wandering towards the sound, pulling off his sunglasses when it became too dark to see.

One door in a set that led into the auditorium was ajar, and Dean slipped through the crack, removing his hood and then his hat to avoid the potential creek of the door. He ran a hand through his hair to tame it, moving to stand at the top of the steps and taking in the vineyard style concert hall. A group of four young cellists was seated on the first riser of the sunken stage as an older man, perhaps a professor, paced languidly in front of them, arm crossed over his chest with the elbow of his other resting against it, a finger to his lips as he listened.

Thanks to his father, Dean grew up on the likes of Zepplin and AC/DC, Eric Clapton and Queen, Black Sabbath, and Bad Company, and that was the type of music he made. Rock and Roll that surged from his fingers through his black Stratocaster, Baby, and out the amplifier at the same time it brewed in his belly and wailed its way past his vocal cords.

But his mother, Dean paused to smile at her memory, fuzzy now after nearly 18 years gone, had been connoisseur, not a purist, and her voice, clear and high as she sang “Hey Jude” until he fell asleep, was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. Standing there, in an overly bright concert hall gave him a strange sense of vertigo as if the present were meeting the past. Listening to that familiar melody being wrung out of the strings made him feel like if he were to turn around right then, he would see her face, smiling and mouthing the words.

Dean wasn’t aware that his feet were carrying him down the stairs as the bridge crescendoed into the coda, and the swell made him feel full to the bursting point. He was also oblivious to the fact that the professor, who had been pacing in front of the quartet, had now stopped, his eyes trained on Dean as his head tipped to the side, curious. Dean felt almost robbed when the coda only went for two rounds, a tear tracking down his cheek as the song came to a close in a bright swell before dying away to silence. He stared unblinking, unaware that the professor held out his hand, bidding his students remain in their seats as he approached the young man.

Dean’s cloudy vision was suddenly filled with blue eyes, the color of a deep ocean, and a brow crinkled in concern, full lips set in a grim line. Dean felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and the instinct to jerk back at a stranger’s touch seemed to have gone missing. Dean was acutely aware of the breath passing in and out of his lungs, the scratchy sound it made, and the wildly out of sync metronome of his heart. On some base level, he understood that he was probably having a panic attack, but something about the gentle rumble of the professor’s voice and the warmth of his hand on his bicep allowed him to hold it together.

“Holy shit that’s Dean Winchester!” The exclamation paired with the break in eye contact as the professor turned to look over his shoulder made Dean jump. The first cellist stared at them in awe.

Dean reached up to wipe his face, swallowing hard, and he was a heartbeat away from turning his heel to run when the professor’s eyes met his again, still impossibly blue and his expression still holding cautious concern.

“Your name is Dean?” The professor asked, his voice like thunder in the distance, and Dean found himself nodding as he blinked, and two more tears tracked down his face, bringing the professor into perfect clarity.

He did jump when the professor brought up a handkerchief and dabbed the wetness away, the gesture so tender despite the matter-of-fact way he’d done it as if it were just what you did when world-famous rock stars crashed your rehearsal blubbering over their dead mothers. Dean tried to take a step back, but the professor followed him.

“I’m Castiel Novak. I teach Cello. Are you a student?” Dean snorted, and Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“Y-yeah, man.” Dean brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Yeah, I’m… shit I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s chuckle was accompanied by a squeeze of his fingers around Dean’s bicep that made Dean almost shiver. “Not a problem. I’m certainly flattered the arrangement induced such a visceral reaction. Are you a musician?”

A chorus of “OH MY GOD PROFESSOR!” “ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?” And “Of course he has no idea who he is.” sounded behind him, making him frown and crane his neck as Dean let out a sharp snort of laughter that he had to cover his mouth to deaden. The professor turned to look at him again, and Dean allowed his face to settle into the thousand-yard smolder he deployed for interviews and album covers. Castiel merely blinked.

“Dean?”

Dean turned at the sound of his brother’s voice wafting from the top of the steps, and Sam was trotting down at a quick clip, face set in a frown as he jerked Dean out of the professors grasp.

“Can we help you?” Sam nearly snarled, and Castiel’s eyebrows raised, his arms crossing over his chest as he stretched himself to his full height though Sam was still a good five inches taller. When his eyes narrowed, turning from flat calm to a budding tempest, however, Dean saw Sam swallow hard.

“Since you came barging in to my rehearsal I feel that I should be directing that question at you?”

“We’re sorry,” Dean said, immediately grabbing Sam’s arm as Sam craned his neck to look at the cellists who were all filming the exchange and asked, “What rehearsal?” At the exact same time.”

“Sam we’re gonna be late for your meeting with the Law School we should go.” Dean tried to tug Sam away, but his moose of a brother wouldn’t budge.

“You’re law students?” Castiel asked, and another groan sounded behind him, making him jump. Sam looked absolutely delighted.

“I’m a prospective student and this is my brother.” Sam wrestled Dean under his arm and forced him to face the professor again, his eyes rolling as he shifted from foot to foot. “He’s a musician.”

Castiel’s eyebrows raised. “What instrument.”

“Oh god I can’t take it.” A student stood, handing their instrument to the person next to them to balance while they stepped over, tapping away on their phone. “Here. This is him.”

Dean cringed as the new single, tinny and shallow, emitted from the phone speakers while the cinegraph of him looking to the side then straight into the camera to give a slow blink before his lips parted in a hitched breath began to loop. Castiel stared down at the phone for several bars before his eyes flicked to Dean’s face and then down again to watch the cinegraph loop a few more times. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t listen to a lot of popular music. Forgive me.”

Dean waved a hand, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “Don’t worry about it man you’ve got what matters.” Dean nodded at the cellists, who was beaming at him. “The Beatles trump me every time.”

“Well I am rather fond of ‘Hey Jude’” Castiel gave Dean a small smile, and Dean felt like he was witnessing something rare and beautiful.

“Wait…” Sam held out a hand, keeping Castiel in his peripheral as he turned to look at Dean. “Hey Jude Hey Jude? Like Mom used to sing?”

Dean felt his cheeks grow hot and knew he must be red as a tomato right about then, exacerbated by the penetrating look Castiel was giving him. Dean reached up to scratch his ear as he looked at the ground and nodded. He felt Sam shift excitedly next to him.

“Can I hear it?”

“Sam!” Dean said sharply, and Castiel’s head tipped to the side in confusion as Sam sighed.

“Come on, Dean! Clearly it was good or you wouldn’t look like you swallowed a slug.” Sam looked to Castiel and offered his hand. “Sam Winchester, pre-law. Don’t mind him he’s emotionally constipated.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” Dean whacked him hard upside the head, and Sam lanced him with his most potent bitchface.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it.” Sam looked from Castiel to the cellists who were already putting their phones away and settling in their seats. “Our mother, she-”

“He don’t wanna hear my tragic origin story, Sammy,” Dean muttered out the side of his mouth.

“-passed when I was one and Dean was four.”

Dean was still amazed that Sam could rattle that off without so much as a stutter. Then again, Sam hadn’t gotten a chance to know their mother. She’d never held him after a nightmare or made him chicken and rice soup when he was sick. Dean had been the one to do all those things for him. Just as Dean had been the one to sing him “Hey Jude” every night before he went to sleep when Sam was little.

“Is that alright with you, Dean?”

Castiel’s voice interrupted his brooding, and Dean found himself once again a little starry-eyed under that stare. Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, hoping it hid his blush. “Uh, yeah fine with me.”

Castiel eyed him skeptically, and Dean felt as if he were being x-rayed, every thought and emotion laid bare under the older man’s concerned gaze. Dean didn’t even jump when Castiel’s hand closed around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze before he turned to the quartet.

“Okay, from the top, please.”

[the-one-with-the-triskele-tattoo]

Pass the happy along! When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy, then send it to the last 10 people in your activity!

1. Listening to folk music mixes on YouTube while laying on my bed in the dark. I have these orange tinted fairy lights wrapped around my headboard so I turn those on and just bask in the aesthetic like a dork.2. BEEF JERKY. don't ask why, but beef jerky is bae at the moment and is literally all I crave lately. Especially when I drink. Alcohol + beef jerky = yaaassss3. Long naps on rainy days. Honestly nothing better than just curling into my many huge blankets and dozing off listening to the rain. Adult duties be damned xD4. Singing at the top of my lungs when walking around the house. Literally belting out whatever's stuck in my head at that moment. Going to the kitchen, to the bathroom, just walking to stretch my legs after a day of writing/drawing/goofing off. I tend to break out in song without noticing sometimes. 5. Going to this beautiful isolated little spot near the river and just laying there, looking up through the trees and pretty much chainsmoking like a motherfucker just to play with the smoke trails, blink182 and Deftones playing through this shitty little Bluetooth portable speaker I stole from my ex-boyfriend. I get lost in the moment there and feel like an over dramatic angsty chic in some cult teen movie. It's kinda hard to explain but it's the most amazing feeling in the world.

[thedrowsydoormouse]

1. What weird food combinations do you really enjoy?

I don’t really know what would qualify as “weird” but yesterday I ordered fried zucchini and tex mex eggrolls from Cheesecake Factory as my dinner and they were real fucking good!

2. Who was your childhood hero?

Shirley Temple. She’s part of why I started dancing. I didn’t leave my room for a week when I found out she had died.

3. What food have you never eaten but would really like to try?

Poke bowls. I love sushi and other stuff like sushi so I think I’d really love them!

4. If you could time travel what year would you travel to and why?

I’d probably make a big vacation out of it and make multiple stops in multiple years at all the Disney parks around the world so I can see some of the stuff I never actually got to that I would’ve loved.

5. What was your biggest fear as a child?

Spiders. And it still is. I have legit PTSD because of spiders and no, I am not joking.

6. What is something you’d like to accomplish in the next year?

I really want to finish writing my book and at least try to get it published if not actually start the process of publishing a book.

7. A new hobby that you would like to learn?

I kind of already know how to do this but I haven’t mastered it yet but I really want to start making candles again because I can never find ones that smell like what I want outside of a two week window in September when brands bring out their Halloween/fall collections before they start throwing Christmas at us by mid-September.

8. What is your dream holiday destination?

My two favorite places I’ve been on vacation were New York and New Orleans for two very different reasons. I love New York for the theatre scene and how there’s always something going on and I love New Orleans for the food and the spooky shit. If I could find somewhere that is both of those mixed together I’d be the happiest girl in the world!

9. What is your ideal meal for your last supper?

Going back to the last question, the crayfish ettoufee at Deanie’s in the French Quarter in new Orleans. It was hands down the best thing I’ve ever eaten and I still crave it almost a decade later!

10. If you had one superpower what would it be?

In my dreams I always wind up flying in some way, shape, or form so I would love to be able to fly. But at the same time I think something like time travel or teleportation would be awesome.

11. Where are some unusual places you’ve been?

I haven’t been to that many unusual places. I’m not nearly as well-traveled as I’d like to be.

12. What movie can you watch over and over without ever getting tired of?

Princess Bride! Or Singin’ In The Rain! Both of those will always be two of my all time favorites and can instantly lift me out of a shitty mood!

13. What animal would be cutest if scaled down to the size of a cat?

I think it’d be adorable to have a tiny little panda friend or something similar that’s just kind of round and fluffy.

14. If you couldn’t be convicted of any one type of crime, what criminal charge would you like to be immune to?

Murder because there’s an infestation in DC that needs to be dealt with. And by that I mean I would murder the president and all of his cronies.

15. In the past people were buried with the items they would need in the afterlife, what would you want to be buried with you so you could use it in the afterlife?

A laptop with internet, spotify, and portable speakers so I can still listen to music and watch movies and shit. Even in the afterlife I’m a lazy couch potato.

16. What was the last photo you took? 

My dog on the couch snuggling with a pillow and serving major sassy vibes!

17. What’s the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten?

Ghost pepper hot sauce straight from the bottle. All I could taste was the mustard seed they put in it. There was almost no spice to me but my mom thought she was dying.

18. What riddles do you know?

Why is a raven like a writing desk.

19. What mythical creature do you wish actually existed?

Phoenix. I’d love to have one as a pet.

20. What are you interested in that most people aren’t?

The psychology of people who are obsessed with serial killers. Not the killers themselves. But the people who lose their fucking minds over them.

21. If you were given a Ph.D. degree but had no more knowledge of the subject of the degree besides what you have now, what degree would you want to be given to you?

Probably psychology because I already know way more about it than I let on and way more than you would think someone who’s never taken a single psych class would know. 

22. What movie quotes do you use on a regular basis?

“Being normal is vastly over rated.” That’s one of my favorites. I also tend to talk in movie quotes a lot but people never seem to notice.

23. Which charity or charitable cause is most deserving of money?

I’m not going to answer this because there are multiple that are all equally as deserving that would do a lot of good in this world and to say one is more deserving than another would be extremely unfair to the others.

24. What TV show character would it be the most fun to change places with for a week?

Either Abby Sciuto or Kasie Hines (but I’d prefer Abby because her apartment/closet is FAB) because I’d love to spend a week solving crimes with the NCIS team but I don’t actually want to go out into the field. Plus then I could just hang down in autopsy with Palmer the whole week if there isn’t a case which would be awesome!

25. If magic was real, what spell would you try to learn first?

Something to clean my room to get my mom off my ass about dusting.

26. What movie, picture or video always makes you laugh no matter how often you watch it?

Pretty much anything with funny animals or people doing stupid shit that makes them fall off things or anything that would be on AFV.

27. If you could have an all-expenses-paid trip to see any famous world monument, which monument would you choose?

The Eiffel Tower because then I could eat all the French food and go to all the fab shops in Paris and someone else would be paying for literally the entire thing!

28. What’s the most ridiculous thing you have bought?

A custom baby doll of the Hatbox Ghost from the Haunted Mansion. It’s ridiculous but I love it so much!

29. What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to?

Zip-lining. Or bungee jumping. Or skydiving. I’m shockingly an adrenaline junkie for someone who hardly ever leaves her room!

30. What songs hit you with a wave of nostalgia every time you hear them?

Anything that was played in any of my dance classes when I was a kid (which was a weird amount of Janet Jackson) or anything I’ve danced to during any recital. Or Seasons of Love because I’m musical theatre nerd trash!

@anangelamuse-castiel-spnfam Now it’s your turn (if you haven’t already done this by the time I’m done typing)!

[rapidong]

if you played music on one of those shitty portable speakers on the bus in high school im sorry but youre irredeemable. that’s it. there’s no coming back from that