#Click Techs Store | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kthologue · 1 year ago

Text

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in.

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired.

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.”

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato�� what is going on?!”

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

4K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

Text

Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election

I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.

But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.

To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.

But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.

It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."

It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.

Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent

But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.

Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo

On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582

They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html

And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/

But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/

These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.

Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.

There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)

Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.

After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/

And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.

As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."

Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.

This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.

Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.

The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/

All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove

Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #unions #coventry #amazon #union busting #qr codes #foxglove #one click to quit the union #labor #gwb

2K notes · View notes

solargrove · 1 month ago

Text

The Halawis 🏡 more details under the cut

This project has sort of taken over my brain lately, but I have been itching to play with a big family (and perhaps try my hand at some rotational gameplay) and thus, the Halawi family was born!

The eldest Halawi members are Yusuf and Ruqayya Halawi, and to them were born four sons: Tarek, Omar, Walid and Zain. They operate the library in Copperdale, where Yusuf finds immense joy in his bookkeeping and Ruqayya teaches art classes in the conference room from time to time.

Tarek is the single father of Farah, his pride and joy. He has been raising her on his own since she was still in diapers, beginning at a difficult time of his life when Farah's mother unexpectedly walked out on their family. Being the eldest of 4 brothers, Tarek is no stranger to stepping up when he needs to and he has done a wonderful job with this little girl! Farah is the apple of her grandparents' eyes too, and at times, Ruqayya sees her as the daughter she never had, but always wanted. Tarek, at the moment, is a Medical Intern, hoping to one day fulfill his dream of becoming a Pediatrician.

Omar is married to Rachel, and they have the twins, Abel and Amir! He works as a line-cook at one of the best diners in Copperdale, but he has always had aspirations to open his own family restaurant someday! Rachel, who has a knack for gardening, stays at home and takes care of their two beautiful children, who are growing more and more each day! Abel is incredibly gifted intellectually, excelling in school like it's second nature. Amir, the rambunctious one, has a bit of a mean streak, but don't be fooled, he has a soft spot for his brother and wouldn't dare let a soul pick on him. The four of them live relatively close to Tarek and Farah, just across the pier.

Walid and Nadine just recently tied the knot and made the move from Copperdale to San Sequoia to be closer to Nadine's parents. Their son, little Jonas, has captured their hearts in ways they can hardly explain! He is the type of kid that strangers stop in the grocery store to tell his parents just how adorable he is, and of course he is spoiled rotten by them because who could tell him no? But Jonas, thankfully, is as angelic and silly as they come, hardly ever giving his parents any trouble. Walid currently works in tech support, with ambitions to begin his own company in the coming years. Nadine, on the total opposite end of the spectrum, is a Romance Consultant, where her passion is in counselling her clients and promoting healthy relationship techniques.

Lastly, but certainly not least, we have Zain. He's the baby of his family, being the youngest of his four brothers, and he's got the rebelliousness to match. Always somewhat the black sheep, he often felt like he never fit in with the rest of the bunch. His siblings all boast tradition, intellect and commitment, whereas Zain channels his energy into more unconventional, artistic avenues. The day he turned 18, he left the family home and bought a one-way ticket to San Myshuno and never looked back. He currently resides in the Arts Quarter with his roommate, the one and only Salim Benali, whom he met at a Festival in the city and clicked with almost immediately. Zain's art speaks for itself, gaining him a subtle amount of notoriety that he feels can eventually propel into something real. Something entirely his own. But that's still a ways down the road, so for now, he's got his freelance gigs to help pay his share of the bills. Let's just hope that Salim doesn't mind his...instability.

#ts4 #ts4 legacy #*halawi legacy extras #the sims 4 #ts4 edit #sims 4 screenshots #i hope to share as much of them as i can!#and that you all will love them as much as i do ♥

428 notes · View notes

yukkiji · 11 days ago

Text

silence, and then you

you were supposed to be writing a paper—but instead, you ended up in kenma’s lap, ranting about college stress while he listened with quiet patience. in the home you built together, love looks like chamomile tea, shared silences, and being carried to bed when you fall asleep in the library he made just for you.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. kozume kenma x fem!reader ft. oikawa tooru

genre: fluff, romance timeskip!kenma, just domestic

wc: 3.3k

author's note: i love domestic kenma fics sm <333

kenma’s gaming room was never designed for two.

it’s dark in the way he likes it—lit only by the soft glow of his monitors and the ambient led strips lining the desk. cables are neatly managed, shelves lined with game figurines and tech accessories. the custom chair supports his back perfectly. his headset rests on a stand like it’s sacred. every inch of the room is calculated for efficiency and quiet comfort.

and then there’s you.

wrapped in a fleece blanket, legs tangled beneath you, you’re curled sideways in his lap like it’s your natural habitat—because at this point, it is.

you were supposed to be writing your sociology paper. you even started off strong, earbuds in, fingers typing, head bowed over your laptop while you sat cross-legged on the bean bag in the corner. it was your “study station,” makeshift but functional. that lasted maybe twenty minutes—until your groupmate ghosted the shared doc again, leaving behind a half-finished bullet point and a timestamp of shame.

so now, your laptop sits abandoned on the bean bag like a forgotten responsibility, and your focus is long gone—buried somewhere between stress and indignation.

because now you’re in kenma’s lap. because now you’re ranting. because that’s what happens when everything feels too heavy.

“she had the nerve to tell me i should be more understanding,” you mutter, your voice muffled against the front of his hoodie. “like i haven’t already picked up the slack for three different sections. and then when i told the professor i’d just do it alone, he had the audacity to say group work builds ‘character.’ i don’t need character. i need a passing grade.”

kenma doesn’t flinch. doesn’t even glance away from his screen.

he hums low in his chest, controller clicking in steady rhythm. “you sound like you’re thriving.”

“i’m dying,” you groan.

“you say that every week.”

you groan louder, your face squishing further into his chest. “i hate school. i should drop out.”

“you should,” he says immediately.

that makes you pull back just enough to squint up at him. “i was joking.”

“i’m not.” he doesn’t miss a beat, not even as his in-game character scales a rooftop. “you should drop out. i’ll take care of everything.”

you blink. “kenma.”

“i already pay the bills. i keep the snack drawer stocked. i buy your oat milk—the one that’s like seven bucks a carton. you could literally just vibe all day and i’d support it.”

your heart stutters, even as you scoff. “so what, you’d raise me?”

he shrugs like it’s a serious consideration. “i kind of already do.”

you swat his chest. “you make it sound like i’m your dependent.”

“you are,” he deadpans. “you live here rent-free, you wear my hoodies more than i do, and your coffee addiction is singlehandedly draining my bank account.”

you open your mouth to argue—then close it. because he’s right.

he replaces your fraying chargers before you even realize they’re dying. he orders your favorite takeout unprompted when you sound tired over the phone. he stocks the fridge with that one brand of yogurt you only mentioned liking once. when the local store ran out of your favorite granola bars, he drove across town to find them without telling you.

he spoils you—without ceremony, without expectation. just quietly, completely.

when he bought this house—a sleek, quiet place a little outside the city—he’d walked the empty rooms with his phone pressed to his ear, telling you about the natural light and soundproofing. by the end of the week, he’d called again with a single question:

"want to live with me?"

you said yes before he even finished the sentence.

you’d been dating since your second year of high school—two quiet kids who found each other through shared projects and handheld consoles, who fell into a rhythm so natural it never needed explaining. there was no grand confession. no dramatic turning point. just steady, quiet gravity pulling you toward each other.

and when you moved in—one battered suitcase, two plushies, and a stack of paperbacks—kenma made space for all of it. for you.

he even converted the spare bedroom into a full-blown personal library. bookshelves from floor to ceiling. warm reading lights. a chair big enough for you to curl up in, and a soft wool blanket he’d picked out “because it looked like something you’d like the texture of.” all because one time—just once—you had sighed dreamily and said, “i wish i had a room that smelled like old books.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumble now, more fond than frustrated.

“you love it.”

“unfortunately.”

at that, he finally looks down at you, the corners of his lips tugging up in a subtle, unspoken smile. you think he’s beautiful like this—dimly lit by the glow of the screen, golden eyes soft despite the endless clicks of his controller.

“you talk a lot when you’re stressed,” he says simply.

“i know,” you sigh. “you hate it?”

he’s quiet for a beat. then, gently:

“no. i like it.”

you blink, the rant finally draining out of you.

“i like that you come in here when you’re overwhelmed,” he murmurs, eyes returning to the screen. “i like the sound of your voice. you fill up the space.”

you go still, the kind of still that comes when someone touches something tender inside you.

“so i’m your white noise machine?” you manage, trying for levity.

“you’re my favorite background noise,” he says, and leans down to kiss the top of your head.

you don’t speak after that. not because you’ve run out of words—but because your chest is too full for any of them to make it out.

the game hums in the background—soft ambient music mixed with the occasional digital footstep, a distant gunshot, or a notification ping. it all blends into a kind of electronic lullaby, steady and familiar. the glow of kenma’s monitor bathes the room in low, flickering light, reflecting off his hair like static gold. his controller clicks in slow, practiced rhythm, matching the quiet pulse of the evening.

across the room, your laptop rests forgotten on the bean bag you’d been occupying not too long ago—still open, blinking sleepily at the half-finished document waiting for you to return. but here, now, wrapped in a blanket and nestled securely in kenma’s lap, surrounded by the gentle whirr of his pc fans and the steady, grounding thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, the urgency of academic deadlines feels like a distant problem.

here, you feel safe. heavy-limbed and warm, like sinking into the softest part of the day.

at first, you keep talking—low, muffled complaints against the fabric of his hoodie. frustrated mutterings about deadlines and underwhelming classmates give way to stories that spiral out from your stress, things you hadn’t even realized were weighing on you until you’d spoken them aloud. kenma doesn’t interrupt. he doesn’t offer solutions. he listens in that quiet, constant way of his—head tilted just slightly toward you, thumb brushing small, rhythmic circles into your side, his breathing slow and even.

eventually, the words dry up.

not from exhaustion—at least, not in the conversational sense—but from the weight of the day finally catching up to you. somewhere between a half-laugh and a breathless sigh, your rant melts into silence, and you let yourself be still. the sounds of the room blur into background noise—the soft clicks of his controller, the gentle shifting of his legs beneath yours, even the occasional rustle of the blanket as you adjust without really waking.

and kenma?

kenma doesn’t move.

more than an hour passes, but you wouldn’t know it. his match ends, another begins. he leans forward just once to mute his mic when he notices your breathing deepen—slow, steady, edged with sleep. he adjusts the blanket over your legs like it’s second nature. his hand never leaves your hip.

there’s no need to speak. no urge to change anything.

kenma’s always been good at silence. he used to cherish it as a shield, a comfort zone no one could breach. but with you, silence became something different. not empty. not cold. just full of quiet closeness—of your presence curled up in his arms, of your breath rising and falling against him, of the small way your hand clutches the fabric of his hoodie even in sleep.

eventually, you begin to stir.

it’s subtle at first—the tiniest shift of your shoulder, a small wrinkle of your brow as the dream fades. then your lashes flutter. a blink. another. you squint into the soft cotton at your cheek, confused by how warm and safe you feel when you should be hunched over a desk, still mildly annoyed.

kenma’s hand is still on your hip, his fingers warm through the blanket, steady as always.

“i fell asleep, didn’t i?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep and embarrassment.

“yeah.” his reply is soft, edged with amusement. “you drooled.”

you lift your head just enough to glare blearily at him. “liar.”

“you’ll never know.”

you groan, more bashful than annoyed, and let your head fall back against his chest with a dramatic sigh. the warmth of his body, the steady thud of his heart—it all tempts you to stay right where you are. but there’s a paper waiting. and despite your best efforts, your conscience won’t let you leave it unfinished forever.

with a reluctant stretch and a quiet yawn, you slowly sit up. your limbs protest, a little stiff from the way you’d been curled into him, and your blanket slides slightly off your shoulder.

“okay, okay…” you mutter, rubbing your eyes. “i should get back to that stupid paper.”

kenma glances down at you, his expression unreadable except for the slight raise of one brow—the universal look of are you sure?

“now?” he asks, voice as calm as ever.

you nod, even as your body sways a little. “yeah. i actually feel better now. like, weirdly better. and if i stay here any longer, i’m gonna fall asleep again and wake up at 3 a.m. in a panic. but if i go to the library room, i might actually focus.”

he hums, noncommittal. but he doesn’t argue.

“want me to bring you tea?” he offers after a beat, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink at him, a smile tugging at your lips despite the grogginess. “you offering to be my emotional support butler now?”

kenma shrugs, almost convincingly serious. “sure. if it means you’ll stop spiraling about sparkles-and-thumbs-up girl.”

you snort, pressing a sleepy kiss to his lips before carefully climbing off his lap. your legs wobble as you stand, half-asleep and still draped in your blanket like a sleepy little wizard, but you manage to stay upright. the blanket trails behind you like a cape, comically dramatic.

you scoop your abandoned laptop from the bean bag and turn toward the door, padding barefoot down the hall with each step soft and familiar against the wooden floor.

kenma watches you go, eyes quietly following the retreating figure of the person he built a home with.

the hallway is quiet, steeped in the familiar hush of a late evening in a house built for comfort. the wooden floor beneath your feet is cool, smooth. you know each creak and soft dip in the boards like second nature now—just like you know which light switches buzz, which corners of the walls catch the fading sun in the morning, and exactly how many steps it takes to reach the door at the end of the hall.

your door.

well—yours, because kenma made it yours.

the door to the library isn’t extravagant. just an ordinary wooden frame, painted a muted shade of sea-glass green. but when you twist the brass knob and step inside, it feels like crossing into something sacred.

the warm scent of wood polish and paper meets you like an embrace. it’s the kind of smell that clings to your skin and settles in your lungs—not overpowering, just comforting. safe. familiar.

it’s warmer in here than the rest of the house, thanks to the old-fashioned radiator tucked behind one of the lower bookshelves. the walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, each packed with novels, academic texts, graphic novels, and that one row of used paperbacks you couldn’t bear to part with even though their spines are cracked and half the pages are dog-eared. kenma insisted on keeping them. said they looked “lived-in. like you.”

there’s a reading nook in the corner, framed by a softly arched window and covered in pillows. a thick-knit blanket is draped across the seat—ivory white with a looped texture you once described as “cloud-like.” kenma had remembered that. you hadn’t even meant it seriously.

but it’s the armchair you settle into now—the one he picked out himself, wide enough to curl into, upholstered in soft fabric the color of stormy skies. your laptop warms your thighs as you open it again, blinking against the sudden white glow of the screen. the doc is still there. still half-finished. still daunting.

but the room? the quiet?

it makes things easier.

you tuck your legs beneath you and exhale slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. the silence here isn’t like the oppressive kind you get in the library on campus, or the awkward kind in coffee shops where everyone’s pretending not to eavesdrop. this is a silence that breathes. that settles around you like a weighted blanket. that makes space for thoughts to form instead of crowding them out.

a few keystrokes.

then a paragraph.

you don’t realize how long you’ve been working until the words on the screen start to blur and your shoulders ache from the angle you’re hunched over. still, there’s a deep satisfaction in knowing the hardest part—starting—is already behind you. you pause for a breath, leaning back into the plush curve of the chair, stretching out your fingers.

your blanket slips off your lap. you don’t bother to fix it.

just as you consider returning to bed, the door creaks open—quietly, like someone trying not to wake you.

kenma steps in, dressed down in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair tucked behind his ears and falling a little messily over one eye. he’s holding a mug in one hand, the steam curling upward in soft spirals.

“chamomile,” he murmurs, like he already knows you’ve hit your limit. “no caffeine.”

you smile, soft and grateful, as you reach for it. “thanks, babe.”

he doesn’t answer—just watches you take a sip, eyes scanning your face the way he always does when you’ve had a long day. looking for signs of leftover tension. of stress you forgot to name. of the part of you that still feels tight, even after sleep.

“paper done?” he asks quietly.

“almost.”

he nods.

then, without another word, he crosses the room and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, his lips warm and still faintly tasting of mint.

you close your eyes, just for a second.

you don’t need to say thank you. he already knows.

kenma doesn’t leave right away.

he lingers, standing by your armchair with his hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, the soft glow of your laptop screen casting a faint shimmer over his tired features. his gaze moves over you slowly, quietly—like he’s memorizing this version of you too: tired but trying, frustrated but still moving forward, wrapped in a blanket in the library he built just for you.

you feel the weight of his eyes before you see the movement—the gentle lean forward, the way his hand finds your shoulder, and then the soft brush of his lips against your temple. a kiss not meant to distract, but to ground. to say i’m still here.

“i’ll go finish my last match,” he murmurs against your skin, voice hushed and steady. “then i’ll shut everything off and come back.”

you nod, not really trusting your voice, and offer him a soft smile instead. he squeezes your shoulder gently before he turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality.

the silence returns—not empty, but full of the warm remnants he leaves behind. the soft throb of affection. the fading scent of chamomile.

you try to keep working.

you manage another paragraph, maybe two, before your eyes begin to blur again and your mind drifts away from your thesis statement and starts circling something far more comforting: the warmth of kenma’s hoodie, the sound of his voice when he’s half-distracted and honest, the solid feel of his arms around you when you’re too exhausted to hold yourself upright.

your fingers fall still on the keyboard.

the library is so still, so warm, so yours—that your body gives in before your brain can argue.

you don’t even remember closing your laptop.

the game room is quiet now—headset hung, pc humming into sleep mode, lights dimmed low. kenma rubs the heel of his palm against his eyes, exhaustion tugging at the corners of his vision as he finally pushes back from his desk. it’s late—he knows by the feel of the air alone, the soft hush that settles into the bones of the house after midnight.

he pads barefoot through the hallway, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. he’s already halfway through a yawn when he reaches the bedroom, expecting to find you curled up in bed.

but the room is empty.

the sheets are untouched.

kenma frowns softly, then pivots, turning toward the softest pocket of the house. he nudges open the library door, already suspecting what he’ll find.

and there you are.

curled into the armchair with your laptop shut beside you, blanket tangled around your legs and your cheek pressed against the crook of your arm. your breathing is soft, deep—the kind of sleep that comes only when you finally let yourself stop.

kenma leans against the doorframe for a long moment, eyes on you, his features unreadable in the soft light.

he’s always preferred silence. it made sense. it was simple. predictable. safe.

but this silence—the one wrapped around you now—is different.

it’s full of your breathing, your dreams, the tiny subconscious twitch of your fingers. it’s full of the knowledge that you’re here—safe and close and his. it’s a silence that holds.

eventually, he moves.

with practiced ease, he crosses the room and kneels beside the armchair. his fingers brush softly against your cheek, coaxing you without waking you, and when you stir just enough to lean toward the warmth, he lifts you carefully into his arms.

you mumble something, half-asleep and unintelligible, your arms curling instinctively around his neck.

“i got you,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

he carries you down the hall, every step measured and quiet. the hallway is dim, but he doesn’t need the lights. he’s carried you through this house enough times to know the path by heart.

when he reaches the bed, he lays you down gently, careful not to jostle you too much. you curl instinctively toward the mattress, eyes still closed, a soft little exhale falling from your lips as you reach—still half-asleep—for something. for him.

kenma doesn’t make you wait long.

he slides in beside you, pulling the blanket up over both of you, then curls himself around your body like a second shield. his arm wraps securely around your waist, tugging you close until your back is pressed to his chest, your head tucked just beneath his chin.

“silence might still be my favorite,” he murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head, “but only when it’s like this.”

you don’t respond—not with words. just a soft sigh as your hand finds his beneath the blanket and squeezes, barely awake but still feeling him.

kenma lets the silence stretch. lets the night take its time.

then, in a voice no louder than the breeze outside, he presses a kiss to your hair and whispers, “good night, baby.”

and pulls you closer.

253 notes · View notes

rosachae · 1 month ago

Text

second skin | daniela avanzini x reader

⁍ song: a little death- the neighbourhood ⁍ genre: venom AU! venom is a wingman ⁍ a/n: not my favorite thing i've ever posted, but oh well. i was due for a dani fic. ⁍ wc: 5.4k ⁍ warnings: mentions of injury, fighting. ⁍ synopsis:

daniela didn’t mean to bond with an alien symbiote. she definitely didn’t mean to fall for her friend either. but when a red symbiote attacks the lab and y/n's life is on the line, secrets unravel fast. daniela has to decide if love is worth the risk of being seen for what she really is.

the biosky labs tower loomed over the city like it knew it was important. sleek glass walls, endless silver panels, and sharp geometric angles that screamed “cutting edge science happens here, now please don’t touch anything.” it was the kind of place that had five different security checks just to use the bathroom.

daniela didn’t belong here. not really. she adjusted her press badge for the fourth time as she stepped into the front atrium, pretending not to feel the weight of a literal alien parasite stretching beneath her skin. her boots squeaked on the polished floor. she hated that. why was everything so shiny in science buildings?

she was here under the guise of journalism—technically true. her editor had sent her to get a word from one of biosky’s board members about their latest green tech initiative. something about biodegradable plastic that disintegrated in sunlight. it sounded great in theory. but daniela hadn’t even brought her recorder. or a pen. she wasn’t here for the story.

she was here for lara.

lara worked in r&d and was one of the very few people daniela trusted. she was also the only one—aside from a sleepy convenience store owner, megan, who definitely wasn’t paid enough to deal with parasite-related trauma—who knew about him.

venom.

the symbiote pulsed beneath her ribs, barely contained, like a cat stretching its claws.

“you are stalling,” venom said, voice curling in her head like smoke. “why are we standing in the lobby like a lost child? do you need a map? or a chaperone?”

“i’m blending in,” daniela muttered under her breath, eyes locked on a very intense sculpture made entirely of test tubes.

“you are loitering. you look suspicious. we should eat someone.”

“we’re not eating anyone in the lobby. i have clearance.”

“coward.”

she sighed and started toward the security desk, flashing her badge at a man who looked like he bench-pressed microscopes for fun. after a quick scan and a deadpan stare, she was waved through to the elevators. inside, the air smelled like sterile metal. scientists in white coats passed by, talking about protein strands and molecular something-or-others. one guy walked by holding a tablet and a cup of black coffee that smelled four weeks stale.

daniela kept her head down, following the path lara had texted her earlier. take the east wing, pass the nanotech lab, avoid eye contact with the cryogenics intern because he will talk about freezing mice for twenty minutes. she rounded a corner and slipped into a side hallway marked ‘authorized personnel only.’ a security camera blinked at her.

“friendly little guy,” she mumbled.

“we should wave.”

daniela rolled her eyes.

this part of the lab was quieter. less tour-friendly. the walls narrowed, and the overhead lights buzzed in a way that made her molars itch. it was here, just past a heavy fire door, that she found lara. half-buried in lab equipment and looking very done with the world.

lara glanced up, goggles on her forehead and a pipette in hand.

“you’re late,” she said.

“you’re lucky i came at all,” daniela replied, stepping into the room, the door clicking firmly shut behind her.

lara raised a brow. “did he say that or you?”

“that was me.”

“hm. he’s rubbing off on you. hello, venom.”

a black tendril mists up out of daniela’s back, waving shortly in faux greeting. despite his simple gesture, his voice slurs teasingly in daniela’s mind.

“she looks delicious today. are you certain i cannot eat her? i have been craving indian.”

daniela rolled her eyes again, possibly the hundredth time that week alone, staying silent as venoms tendril retreated back into her. she pulled a small container from the inside pocket of her jacket. it was sealed shut, but the faintest red glow pulsed from within.

lara’s expression shifted immediately, serious now. curious. “that’s from yesterday?”

daniela knew what she was talking about immediately. she could still feel the pang in her ribs when she inhaled, fresh off a beating the night before. she could still remember the sound of megan’s voice, shocked and concerned, when she dragged herself into the chinese girls convenience store with a black eye and a very annoyed (very moody) symbiote bitching about the world as he knew it. megan didn’t even need to ask what’d happened. she simply grabbed her first aid kit and helped daniela stitch up. nothing a good dab of makeup couldn’t hide.

and of course, she could still feel the way her heart dropped in her chest when y/n’s name filtered across the cracked screen of her phone. she was late. again. they were supposed to meet up with some of their other friends, lara included, for a birthday party of someone whose name daniela didn’t care to remember. truth be told, the latina had only agreed to go for her. y/n, who made her heart race and her palms clammy. y/n, who looked at her in a way that made her feel human– at least more than she did whenever she was reminded of the symbiote coiling through her like a disease she couldn’t rid.

daniela had long since gotten used to everything unusual. her life was flipped upside down the very minute she met venom, as he called himself, and he attached himself to the core of her being. he said they were ‘compatible’. that it would be ‘better this way’. sometimes, she couldn’t help but feel resentful. especially when y/n looked at her with those eyes, unaware of the monster she hid within.

daniela sighed. she’d already debriefed lara on what happened when she called her throughout the night, demanding answers on where she was, telling her how sad y/n was that she seemed to be avoiding her lately. daniela truly had every intention of showing up– she really did. except she couldn’t, not when she was attacked by a red-skinned symbiote she didn’t recognize, despite the primal familiarity that pronged through her like a knife. venom’s doing.

“yeah. the one downtown. he wasn’t like venom. he—i don’t know. didn’t talk. just looked at me like he wanted to melt my bones. he dropped this when we fought. i didn’t want to keep it on me.”

lara took the container carefully, like it might explode. “you did the right thing. i’ll analyze it. lowkey. don’t worry.”

daniela nodded, trying to shake off the memory of blood-red tendrils and that terrible silence.

“he was ugly,” venom said helpfully, his voice echoing through the silence of her mind. “and rude.”

before she could respond, voices echoed from the hallway. footsteps.

lara froze. “shit,” she whispered. “someone’s coming. probably y/n, she said she was coming by to check the cultures—”

the door opened, and there she was.

y/n stepped into the lab like a punch to the lungs. lab coat, clipboard. a soft smile that could melt steel beams. daniela stiffened immediately, like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water down her spine.

“oh—hey,” y/n said, blinking. “daniela?”

daniela opened her mouth, but nothing came out. for a moment she simply stood, buffering as she stared at the girl who consumed her thoughts on the daily– much to venom’s displeasure.

“oh my god,” venom groaned. “not this again.”

y/n tilted her head, eyes flicking between daniela and lara, then down to the mysterious container on the desk that was glowing faintly red. her brows lifted, but she didn’t say anything about it. not yet.

“i didn’t know you were stopping by,” she said, and god, her voice was soft. friendly. too casual, considering how daniela’s heart had decided to start jackhammering in her chest like it was trying to escape.

daniela cleared her throat, then immediately regretted it when it came out sounding like a dying engine.

“journalism,” she said, too quickly. “i’m here for journalism. official. press things.”

lara made a noise like she was choking on her own spit.

“right,” y/n said slowly, trying not to laugh. “because this is a very newsworthy hallway. here i was thinking you were going to apologize for ghosting me last night.”

despite the slight edge in y/n’s words, daniela could easily detect the light humor wedged between them. she wasn’t too upset, not really. not knowing what to say, the latina rubbed the nape of her neck.

“i’m sorry about that. some stuff came up…,” daniela mumbled, forcing a shrug. “besides, i’m here for work. some cutting edge stuff, you know? top secret. can’t print anything. very hush-hush.”

“you sound unhinged,” venom drawled. “get it over and done with, already. ask her to mate.”

daniela pointedly ignored venom when lara, mercifully, took over. “she was just dropping something off for me. we’re… collaborating.”

y/n looked at the container again. “on radioactive christmas ornaments?”

“biotech art,” daniela blurted.

lara turned away abruptly, coughing suspiciously into her sleeve.

y/n smiled, bright and blinding, and leaned against the edge of the table like she had no idea what she was doing to daniela’s already fragile composure.

“well, if you’re done with your… science drop-off, you should stick around for the tour. there’s a whole new wing they’re opening up today. i was just going to swing by and check it out.”

daniela blinked. did y/n just invite her to stay?

“she is inviting us,” venom confirmed, smug. “maybe we will stay. maybe we shall eat her?”

venom had lived inside of daniela long enough for her to know when he was joking, yet still she fought the urge of telling him to shut up. you’re not helping, she thought, knowing he would hear her loud and clear.

“uh—i mean, yeah,” daniela said, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets to hide the way they trembled. “i’ve got time.”

“great,” y/n said, already turning toward the door. “come on. i’ll show you the part of the lab where we keep the really dangerous stuff.”

“yes please,” venom purred.

lara shot daniela a look as she passed. it said you’re welcome in all caps and underlined three times.

daniela scowled at her but followed y/n out anyway.

they walked in silence for a beat, the bright lights above humming softly. the lab stretched around them, clean and cold, but strangely alive. screens flickered quietly in the background, machines whirred in glass compartments, and somewhere nearby, someone shouted about “rat genomes” and “ethical boundaries.”

daniela stayed a step behind y/n, watching the way she gestured when she talked, the way her hair bounced with each step. it was unbearable.

“just tell her,” venom said. “tell her you want to kiss her and then take her out for greasy tacos. it’s not hard.”

“shut up,” daniela hissed under her breath.

“sorry?” y/n looked over her shoulder.

daniela froze. “nothing. i was just, uh. admiring the… vent system.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “you’re weird.”

daniela bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “you’re just now realizing this?”

y/n laughed. and it echoed in daniela’s ribs like a song she hadn’t heard in years.

they kept walking, deeper into the facility, the air getting colder as the ‘tour’ moved into zones not quite meant for casual visitors. these halls weren’t all glass and chrome like the rest of the building. instead, they were quieter, older. wires snaked along the ceilings like veins. doors hissed softly when they closed behind them. daniela had the distinct feeling they weren’t really supposed to be here. yet, she couldn’t find it within herself to ask. afterall, y/n didn’t seem concerned. she tapped her badge against a side door, waving daniela in like it was nothing. of course, she followed.

every second daniela spent with y/n felt intoxicating, in it’s own simple way. they were friends. had been for years, ever since lara introduced them over a board meeting and hushed laughter. daniela had been enamored ever since. enamored by the sound of y/n’s laugh, the way her smile lit up a room, the way she managed to turn even her darkest days into something worth holding onto.

and of course, the way y/n looked at her when she admitted at last years new year party she had feelings for her. it lived rent free in her mind-- a record that played on repeat when she lied down at night alone. y/n had said she couldn’t enter the new year without telling her how she felt. daniela wanted so badly to kiss her then and there when the clock hit twelve. to tell y/n that she felt the same way, that she had ever since their eyes met. but, she didn’t.

for all the things daniela avanzini had grown to adore about y/n, through it all, she still couldn’t find it within herself to be honest.

she was dangerous, a fact that kept her up at night whenever she seldom allowed herself to think.

it tore her apart.

“this is where we keep some of the experimental containment,” y/n said, voice low in a way that sounded conspiratorial. daniela tore herself from her thoughts, focusing entirely on the girl. when y/n knows she has her attention, she continues. “technically, i’m not allowed to bring visitors in here, but technically, you’re a member of the press. so that cancels out, right?”

“definitely how rules work,” daniela replied.

y/n turned, walking backwards now. “so. what’s your angle?”

daniela blinked. “angle?”

“for the article. i know you’re not just here for lara.” she said it with a grin, playful, but there was something beneath it. interest. curiosity. maybe hope.

daniela floundered.

“this is your moment,” venom whispered. “say: ‘i came here for you.’ dramatic pause. raise an eyebrow. smolder.”

daniela stared dumbly.

.…smolder? she thought.

“you’re ruining this.”

“i’m just…” she exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “it’s been a weird couple weeks. i guess i needed to see someone i didn’t hate.”

y/n’s grin softened. “is that a compliment?”

“i don’t know. depends. do you still microwave fish in the break room?”

“that happened once.” y/n turned back around, but her ears were red.

daniela smiled to herself, just a little.

they entered a side lab that looked like the inside of a very expensive fridge. metal counters, thick glass tubes filled with murky liquid, something humming in the corner that daniela was pretty sure was alive.

“here,” y/n said, stepping aside. “this is where we keep some of the more unstable samples. things that didn’t bond properly. or bonded… wrong.”

daniela’s eyes moved toward a large containment chamber near the back wall. inside, a black smear floated in a thick solution, tendrils curling slowly like seaweed. it didn’t look like venom. it didn’t feel like him either.

she shivered.

y/n noticed. “you okay?”

“yeah,” daniela lied. “just—got a weird vibe. i’ve been writing too many horror articles lately.”

“maybe you’re just getting a sixth sense for drama,” y/n said, still watching her. “you always seem to show up right before things get weird.”

“maybe weird things just follow me,” daniela said, quieter this time.

“she doesn’t know the half of it,” venom added with a snort.

y/n laughed again, stepping closer. “well, for what it’s worth… i’m glad you’re here. you’re not as scary as you act.”

daniela blinked. the words settled somewhere deep in her chest, warm and dangerous. she opened her mouth to say something—anything—but she stopped when the lights flickered. just once. but it was enough.

y/n turned her head. “that’s not supposed to happen.”

the overheads buzzed again, flickering like a warning. the humming in the corner changed pitch. it was no longer soft. it was angry. from down the hall, something slammed. not a door, but something heavier.

daniela’s body tensed when not even a second later, the alarms started with a howl, shrill and piercing, bouncing off the sterile walls like a fire drill from the underworld. lights flashed red overhead, casting the lab in stuttering bursts of color—red, white, red, white—like a heartbeat in panic.

y/n spun toward the door. “what the hell—”

another crash. closer this time.

y/n reached for the wall intercom closest to her. “i-i don’t know what’s going on. i have to talk to central—”

a voice crackled through the lab speakers before she could touch it. not the system voice. not human.

“you have something of mine.”

the voice was wrong. low and sharp, like broken glass dragged across metal. it slithered out of the vents, from the walls, behind their ribs. daniela froze.

“was that…?” y/n didn’t finish the question. her eyes were on daniela now. questioning. uncertain.

daniela moved without thinking, stepping in front of y/n on instinct. her hand went into her coat, where venom curled just beneath her skin, already twitching with anticipation.

“stay behind me,” she said.

y/n looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time. “daniela, what’s going on?”

“he’s here,” venom growled, low and pleased. “our red friend. i can smell him. sharp. rotten. something’s wrong with him.”

the fire door at the end of the hallway slammed open, metal denting from the inside out like someone had punched straight through it. heavy footfalls echoed down the corridor.

venom murmured inside her. “he followed us. he knows. he wants it back.”

“daniela,” y/n said, more quietly this time. “what’s going on?”

she didn’t answer. couldn’t. not without unraveling everything.

and then he appeared. taller than daniela remembered from the day before. red and twisted, like someone had fed barbed wire to a blender. not just red—glowing, pulsing at the edges, veins running hot like lava through a human shape. not quite a man. not quite anything. the symbiote had taken over completely. its eyes that weren’t quite eyes locked onto daniela like it had been hungering for her.

“there you are,” the red symbiote said, grinning. “you took something that doesn’t belong to you.”

daniela spared a quick glance in y/n’s direction, swallowing when she notices the pure shock and horror engraved across her face. the exact kind of horror she lied awake at night worrying about, in the hypothetical situation y/n ever found out the truth. the last thing she ever wanted was for y/n to look at her, scared. like she was a moneter.

daniela shakes her head, forcing herself to sound composed. “wrong girl.”

the red one tilted his head, almost amused. “you reek of him. of venom.” his smile widened. “don’t play dumb. give it to me, or i take it from the corpse of your little scientist.”

daniela hesitated. just a beat.

“decide,” venom snarled in her skull. “you can’t keep pretending. you’ll lose her.”

daniela grit her teeth. she didn’t want y/n to know. not like this. not with blood and glass and monsters in the walls.

but it didn’t matter.

daniela felt venom rise immediately, slithering under her skin, begging to be let out. not just asking. demanding.

“we need to run,” y/n said, backing up.

“no,” daniela said. “we can’t let him near the rest of the building.”

“what are you talking about? you don’t have a—”

the red thing moved.

fast.

a blur of red tendrils and inhuman muscle, tearing through the hallway like a beast. it slammed a desk out of the way like it was made of cardboard.

y/n grabbed daniela’s arm. “we have to go, now!”

daniela hesitated, just for the briefest of seconds. and then she moved.

“let me out.”

she didn’t answer. she didn’t have to.

black surged up her throat, over her face, coating her arms in glossy armor and claws. her vision sharpened, blood roaring in her ears. she was in limbo. not quite herself, but also not quite venom.

y/n screamed. not in terror—more like complete shock.

venom turned and grabbed her gently, claws retracting just enough, and launched both of them through an adjacent wall, crashing through a side corridor just as the red thing smashed into the room behind them. the floor buckled. glass shattered. something exploded in the distance. daniela ran, half-carrying y/n, venom’s strength barely strained. y/n clung to her with both arms, eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to ask something but couldn’t find a single word. they reached the elevator lobby, huge and open and full of windows.

and of course, the worst possible place to be.

behind them, the red symbiote burst through the wall like a monster out of a nightmare.

“no elevators,” venom said. “he’ll crush us before the doors even close.”

“stairs,” daniela snapped, pivoting hard.

but they were too late.

the red thing was already there, tendrils slamming into the ceiling above them, knocking loose steel beams and cables. one snapped, and then another. the floor near the stairwell cracked, tiles tumbling into the yawning black of the empty elevator shaft. daniela shoved y/n toward the edge to dodge a swing just a little too hard. immediately, she regrets it when y/n’s heels hit the crumbling floor. it gave way.

“no—!”

she slipped, and she fell. y/n didn’t have enough time to gather her footing before her body was tripping back in to the empty elevator shaft, a height that would certainly kill her on impact. her eyes met daniela’s for the briefest of seconds.

daniela didn’t think. she let venom take over. completely. black tendrils lashed out like lightning, diving into the shaft. it all happened in a breath.

one second, y/n was falling. the next, she was dangling midair, suspended by something alien, staring up at venom. eight feet tall. snarling. glistening. unmistakable.

the creature reeled her back in like a fish on a line, gently depositing her to the floor. claws curled around her shoulders to steady her.

“are you hurt?” it asked, voice thick and dual-toned, daniela layered beneath the monster.

y/n blinked up at it. “…daniela?”

venom’s eyes narrowed. then softened, just a little.

“surprise,” daniela said through venom’s mouth.

y/n stared up at her—at venom, at daniela—with something unreadable in her eyes. not fear. not exactly. more like the world had just cracked in half and she was still waiting to see how far it would split.

neither daniela nor venom had the chance to say more before the red symbiote came crashing down the elevator shaft. venom immediately sprung into action. tugging y/n into an empty floor, the air tuned impossibly colder. the red symbiotes' movements were cold and fluid when he followed after them, like he knew he had time. like he enjoyed the anticipation. his body shimmered, pulsing with some internal fire. red tendrils dragged across the walls like claws on chalk.

“i should’ve known,” he purred. “venom always did have a soft spot. he likes the pretty ones.”

venom growled, deep and primal, and it echoed from every surface.

the red symbiote didn’t wait. he launched forward, a snarl ripping out of him, arms splitting into barbed whips of glowing red. venom met him halfway, their bodies colliding with a sound like metal being torn in half. they crashed into a far wall. stone cracked, glass burst, a light fixture dropped from the ceiling. daniela twisted under venom’s skin, trying to keep control, trying to aim the fury. the red one lashed out, slicing across her ribs with a jagged blade-arm. venom howled.

venom surged upward, slamming a fist into the red one’s jaw, then ducked under a retaliating swing and drove both claws into his side. red shrieked—inhuman and sharp—and retaliated with a burst of flame-like tendrils that seared across the lab floor.

y/n ducked behind a desk, eyes wide, watching the monsters tear each other apart in the glow of flickering red lights. she wasn’t scared. not really. just stunned. processing.

but when she looked at venom, at daniela, something else bloomed in her chest. recognition. it was her. the way she moved. protected her. even the way she swore under her breath as the red one got in another hit.

still daniela.

venom got the upper hand for a moment, grabbing the red symbiote by the throat and slamming him into the concrete hard enough to make the walls rattle.

“you’re not taking it,” venom snarled.

the red one laughed through cracked teeth. “you think i care about the girl? or you? i want what you stole. the fragment. give it to me.”

daniela faltered for a beat. the artifact. the glowing red sample. lara still had it—hopefully locked away somewhere deeper in the lab. this whole attack… it was never about her. not really.

venom hesitated. just a second. the red one used it to his advantage. a tendril speared forward, aimed not at venom, but at y/n. daniela didn’t think. she threw herself in front of it. the impact sent her crashing into a column, plaster and sparks exploding around her.venom roared in pain.

“dani!”

daniela hit the ground hard, venom glitching and rippling around her like a damaged projection. her vision swam, but she doesn’t miss the way y/n raced over. she dropped to her knees beside her.

“what the hell is this? how long have you—”

“not now,” daniela groaned, blood in her mouth.

the red one stalked forward. venom twitched, trying to stand, but the hit had been brutal.

y/n looked up at the monster barreling toward them. with a newfound sense of confidence, she did the only thing she could. she grabbed a fallen metal pipe and hurled it at the red symbiote’s face.

it bounced off with a sad little clang.

he paused, a look of mild offense striking his grotesque face.

“seriously?” he muttered.

but it was enough.

the red one surged forward again, limbs splintering into hooked blades and writhing spears. he was a storm of red fury, blind and grinning, hammering toward them with all the heat of something barely held together by rage.

but daniela had already risen.

venom rippled over her like liquid shadow, scars mending mid-motion, claws curling longer, sharper. black tendrils writhed along her spine, ready, hungry. there was no hesitation now. no hiding. no pretending.

only her.

“you want it?” she rasped, voice layered and low, venom’s timbre wrapping around hers like thunder. “come and get it.”

she launched.

they collided midair, red and black blurring together in a screech of tearing metal and flesh. daniela let go of restraint. venom knew how to twist, how to hurt, and daniela guided it with fury like a blade.

the red symbiote struck hard, hammering her into a beam. daniela rebounded, claws dragging sparks off the wall as she swung low, raking open his side.

“you’re wasting your breath,” he snarled. “the fragment’s mine.”

venom lunged, wrapping both arms around the red one’s torso, and bit down.

the scream that tore out of the red symbiote was inhuman, rattling the air and shaking the glass.

his form flickered—unstable now, wounded, tendrils flailing. daniela twisted, slamming him through a row of reinforced lab tables. the metal bent like foil.

“dani!” y/n’s voice came from the side, urgent. “his core—bottom left! it’s destabilizing!”

daniela saw it then—a pulsing red glow beneath the symbiote’s chest. flickering, uneven.

she didn’t ask how y/n knew. she just moved.

venom surged up her arms, curling into a blade. she dropped, twisted beneath the red one’s next swing, and drove the blade up into the core.

there was silence, then a sound like pressure releasing—a deep whoomph, followed by a stuttering crackle of light. the red one staggered, glitching, body tearing apart from the inside out.

“no—no—NO—”

he clawed toward her, toward y/n, toward anything. but venom dragged him back. black tendrils crushed inward. one final twist. one last roar.

the red symbiote collapsed with a shriek and a shudder, its body dissolving into steaming sludge that hissed across the tile.

it was over.

daniela stood, swaying slightly. her breathing was ragged, skin streaked with ash and blood. the last of venom curled back beneath her skin, black retreating like ink down a drain.

and then she collapsed to her knees.

“daniela!” y/n was already moving, sliding across broken glass and debris to catch her. “hey—hey, stay with me—”

but her eyes were closed. still breathing. still there. just… barely. the room went quiet.

until something moved.

a ripple across daniela’s shoulder. black. liquid. alive. venom reemerged—not the full monstrous form, but a slick tendril that uncoiled upward, shifting until it formed a rounded head, eyeless and wet with that reflective sheen. small. almost calm.

y/n froze.

the tendril tilted, then spoke.

“she will be fine,” venom said, voice low and rattling. “we have taken worse hits.”

y/n swallowed. “you… you can talk without her?”

“we prefer her,” venom said, almost wistfully. “she is… fun. angry. but warm.”

y/n stared. “she never told me. about you.”

venom shifted, curling gently around daniela’s shoulder like a shawl. protective. oddly tender.

“she didn’t want you to run.”

y/n blinked. “what?”

“you are the reason she holds back. why she is scared. she believes she is a monster.”

the silence between them stretched long and deep.

“but you’re not,” y/n whispered.

venom moved again, this time toward her. not threatening. just… curious. his voice dropped lower.

“you smell like her heart.”

y/n let out a breath. “that’s either very sweet or very creepy.”

a pause. then, unexpectedly, a snort.

“she would say the same.”

y/n almost smiled.

“will she be okay?”

venom retracted a little, folding back down.

“she is waking.”

and just like that, the black melted away again. daniela stirred, a long groan tearing from her. her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was y/n, sitting right in front of her, hair a mess, lab coat scorched, one scraped knee, and… smiling.

“hey,” y/n said softly. “nice of you to rejoin us.”

daniela winced. “you’re not screaming.”

“not yet.”

a beat.

“venom said i smell like your heart,” y/n added casually.

daniela’s eyes widened.

“oh my god—”

“don’t worry. he’s kind of sweet. in a nightmare slug kind of way.”

the lab was still screaming. alarms howled overhead in stuttering bursts. red lights strobed across shattered glass and scorched tile. from the stairwell, heavy footsteps echoed—boots slamming up the metal steps, guards or scientists or maybe cleanup crews, all just a breath too late.

but in the center of it all, daniela only saw y/n.

her lip was split. her side throbbed. something was probably fractured.and yet, she couldn’t help but frown.

“are you... are you scared of me?” she asked, voice low, almost too quiet to hear beneath the sirens.

y/n looked at her like that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.

“you caught me out of mid-air before i became elevator paste and then took down a rage-possessed lava monster,” she said. “so no. i’m not scared.”

daniela blinked.

y/n leaned closer. “maybe a little mad you didn’t tell me.”

“i didn’t want you to look at me like—like this.”

“well, tough luck.” her voice softened. “because this is how i look at you.”

daniela’s breath hitched when y/n reached out slowly, still cautious, even now. her fingers brushing against daniela’s jaw, hesitant like a question. and then she kissed her.

it wasn’t soft. it was tired, and cracked, and tasted like smoke and adrenaline and blood—but it was real. daniela’s hands came up into y/n’s hair, pulling her closer like she didn’t care who saw, like she didn’t care if the building collapsed around them. y/n’s fingers curled against her waist, grounding her in the middle of the wreckage.

the footsteps were getting louder. someone was shouting orders. probably close. daniela pulled back just enough to breathe.

y/n’s forehead pressed to hers. “what now?”

behind her eyes, venom stirred. “they will have questions. annoying ones.”

daniela glanced at the ruined elevator, then back to y/n. “lara’s gonna kill me for not waiting.”

“she can wait.” venom’s voice was smug. “take the girl.”

black tendrils curled from beneath daniela’s feet. the world blurred. she grabbed y/n’s hand. didn’t ask.

“hold on,” she whispered.

and then they were gone—swept away through the broken ceiling like smoke, like a shadow vanishing into the night. alarms still blared behind them, questions still screamed in the stairwell. but none of that mattered now. for now, all that mattered was y/n.

and maybe—just maybe—it was time to give honesty a try.

venom purred somewhere beneath her skin.

“finally.”

205 notes · View notes

mahalachives · 3 months ago

Note

Thank you for writing my request for acotar fics. Really if I'm going to be honest I didn't expect you to write it so quickly. But wowww. Again thank you and would you like consider to write a azriel and human mate reader where she has like tablet as well as a telephone and earphones and she explains a technology to inner circle.

Title: Tech Support: Velaris Edition

pairing: azriel x human!mate reader

Hope you enjoy!

The first time Azriel saw you talking to yourself, he thought you were mad.

The second time, when you told him you were “on a call,” he genuinely started to worry about your sanity.

By the third time, you had pulled out what you called a tablet, and suddenly, the entire Inner Circle got involved.

And so here you were, seated in the House of Wind, facing a very skeptical group of Fae while Azriel stood protectively beside you, arms crossed but utterly amused.

You did not expect absolute chaos.

It started when you pulled out your phone.

“This,” you said, holding it up like it was the Cauldron itself, “is a cell phone.”

The room stared at the tiny glowing rectangle in your hands like it was a live bomb.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, narrowed his eyes. “It’s…glowing.”

“Yes.”

Cassian unsheathed a dagger. “Kill it.”

“CASSIAN, NO—”

Azriel, standing protectively beside you, let out a suffering sigh as you shoved Cassian’s arm down. “It’s not alive, you battle-obsessed maniac.”

“Are you sure?” Amren drawled, unimpressed. “Because that thing hummed.”

“It vibrated—it’s a notification!” You waved your hand. “It’s how I get messages!”

Rhys leaned forward, smirking. “So, humans store voices in tiny glowing bricks now?”

“… I hate how accurate that sounds.”

Nesta arched a brow. “So it’s like a magical book?”

“No, it’s better.” You clicked on a video, and the screen moved.

Cassian screamed.

Nesta dropped her tea.

Amren nearly fell out of her chair.

Feyre’s jaw hit the floor.

Rhysand, High Lord of Velaris, the most powerful High Fae in existence, flinched.

Mor gasped dramatically. “IT’S POSSESSED.”

Azriel—your lovely, brooding mate—only sighed deeper, rubbing his temples like this was the worst day of his life.

“IT’S JUST A VIDEO,” you shouted over their horrified screams.

“IT’S A TRAPPED SOUL,” Cassian accused, pointing a trembling finger at the phone.

“IT’S NOT—”

Nesta hissed at the screen.

Feyre, looking way too concerned, whispered to Rhys, “Should we… should we free it?”

“IT’S NOT TRAPPED,” you nearly shrieked.

Azriel put a calming hand on your shoulder. It did nothing.

“This is normal for humans,” he explained, attempting damage control.

Mor, still clutching her chest like she had seen a ghost, muttered, “Humans are terrifying.”

You groaned. “Okay, forget the phone. Let’s move on to the tablet.”

More skeptical looks.

You turned it on, and Rhys immediately backed up.

“I hate this,” he muttered.

Cassian squinted. “Why is it so big?”

“It’s just a bigger version of my phone!”

Nesta looked at the screen, unimpressed. “Does it also hold souls hostage?”

“…It’s literally just for books, movies, and drawing.” You clicked a random sketching app and made a quick doodle.

Silence.

Then—

Cassian leaned in. “You—you’re making magic symbols—”

“I AM DRAWING.”

“WITH LIGHT,” Feyre gasped.

“WITH MY FINGER.”

Rhys looked between you and Azriel. “You mated with a sorceress?”

Azriel sighed even harder. “She’s not a sorceress.”

“She controls light magic,” Mor insisted.

“Oh my god.”

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought nothing could be dumber than Cassian.”

Cassian gasped, clutching his chest. “Nesta, how could you?”

“Okay,” you groaned. “Forget the tablet—here, let’s try earphones.” You plugged them in and played music. “Put this in your ear.”

Mor eagerly took one.

The second the bass hit, her eyes flew open.

“WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?”

She grabbed Cassian’s arm. “DO YOU HEAR THAT? IT’S IN MY HEAD—”

Cassian yanked it away like it was a venomous snake. “GET IT OUT—IT’S CURSING HER—”

Azriel looked like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

Rhysand, ever dramatic, massaged his temples. “Mother above, why did I let her do this?”

Nesta, still sipping her tea, shrugged. “I think we should let them suffer.”

Cassian—who had immediately shoved both earphones into his ears—jumped to his feet.

“THIS,” he declared, “IS THE GREATEST THING HUMANS HAVE EVER CREATED.”

You smirked. “Told you.”

Cassian whipped around to Rhys. “BRO, WE NEED THIS AT RITA’S.”

“No."

“PLEASE.”

“Absolutely not.”

Cassian was already running. “I’M STEALING THIS—”

Azriel extended a foot, expertly tripping him.

Cassian ate the floor.

Azriel plucked your phone from his unconscious hand and handed it back to you.

You smiled up at your mate. “Thanks, love.”

Azriel sighed. “You’re never showing them the internet.”

#acotar #azriel x oc #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian #azriel x you #feyre acotar #nesta acotar #mor acotar

215 notes · View notes

whollyjaggedscarab · 5 days ago

Text

IT Services in Wichita Simplified by Click Techs

Experience seamless IT services in Wichita with Click Techs, your trusted partner for all technology needs. From cloud computing to technical support, we provide customized services that empower businesses to succeed. Our proactive approach and commitment to excellence make Click Techs the preferred choice for businesses seeking IT solutions.

#Technology Solutions #Communicate & Collaboration #Security & Compliance #Network Infrastructure #Click Techs Store #Web Technologies

0 notes

medlilove · 1 year ago

Text

(Edited to add headshots because tumblr hates detail) I've etched away at this is a lovely few weeks, so click for full res and all the little details, okay? It's my love letter to the journey I've found myself on

This is long-ish, so its under the cut (but worth reading...)

I had been thinking a lot recently about that double feature episode, you know the one? I half remembered it then, when they chased a bunch of alien spies so fast through the solar system they all got thrown back in time. Half the crew went on a little undercover adventure in Toronto in 2024. It was great because they got completely cut off from the Enterprise, so half of them, well mostly Uhura and Spock if I recall correctly, spent their time collecting as many radios as possible and worked on building their own communications. Uhura and Spock were basically taking turns constantly tweaking radios by the window with wires everywhere. Oh yeah, their base of operations was the whole top floor of a worn out old building looking over a big square. They ended up in the really arty/queer part of town full of art galleries and thrift stores.....??

Chapel and Chekov were sent out to those shops to find disguises for everyone. I loved the joke that Chekov was puzzled and slightly alarmed that Christine just knew everyone's clothes sizes and measurements with no explanation. Later on, they ended up getting separated from the rest of the group and getting held up by B story shenanigans, mostly getting lost and running into culture shocks. It was fun to see them having their own adventures and made for a pretty interesting combo. Spock and Uhura spent most of their time with the tech, accidentally listening to the times most popular music while changing frequencies. Jim and Sulu paired off to search for clues, and getting supplies and spent a lot of time talking to the locals setting up for a Pride parade. McCoy, feeling paranoid and irritable that he had practically no equipment, wandered around with Dr Alfred Nahdi, the Botanist, who kept picking random weeds and talking about how extraordinary the little dandelions were. Oh and together they stole a whole medical bag out of an ambulance?? It was pretty funny. Anyway, the main issue was they couldn’t risk leaving the area because all these alien spies had assimilated into the population and they had to track them all down and bring them back with them so as not to disrupt the timeline or something. They had to track down the aliens while making sure the aliens didn't pick up on who they were or that they were also out of place. They ended up being there for around two whole ass months, I think. The spies were spread out all over and there were about 30 of them, but it ended up being the Botanist, Alfred (Alfie) Nahdi who found the enemy base of operations by complete accident. Alfred, who had spent most of the time studying all the common flowers and weeds that were so ordinary at that time but were extinct in their time, figured out where the aliens' base of operations was because the big plant shop at the end of the square had a few succulents that could not have existed in 2024. It was a big "woah" moment. And there was this whole thing where he had to act like he hadn’t just figured it out because the florist, who was almost certainly a spy, was watching him and McCoy. But soon after, it all went to hell anyway when a fight broke out and Sulu was straight up shot with the aliens' weapon that had bullets made from alien metal. So then Bones had to perform old school surgery on him in their HQ, with only 2024 equipment. Jim, Spock, and Uhura were out fighting and ran into Chapel and Chekov and were able to finish them off, but it got really crazy because there was a Pride parade in the square at the same time so they had to make sure no one noticed them. While Bones was pulling bullets out of Sulu, with the botanist assisting him until Chapel (who had been sent by Jim) appeared and took over. McCoy said something like, “Christine, I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” and they sewed him up all old school. And it worked out! But Bones was a mess because he had to do messy surgery with none of his kit, and so much pressure, and more blood than he was used to... Chapel stayed with Sulu, and Bones and Nahdi went to sit on the fire escape stairwell and had a sweet scene of Bones just full of adrenaline, his hands couldn't stop shaking. They sat hand in hand for a while listening to all the people on the streets below. Then Spock, Jim, Uhura, and Chekov appeared at the stairwell and they all had a happy, albeit exhausted reunion. After a day of everyone recovering from all the excitement, Uhura and Spock used some extra tech they got from the aliens and finally made contact with poor Scotty who was up on the Enterprise losing the will to live. Anyway, their outfits were iconic tbh.

I invented this whole thing to draw Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy in a sweater. I lost control of the situation. I spent a lovely two weeks etching away at this with the support of my lovely ST server, I love you guys. This ones for you.

412 notes · View notes

haberai · 4 months ago

Text

TUBİDY (4)

In today's fast-paced digital world, having instant access to music is more important than ever. Enter Tubidy Guru, your ultimate destination for hassle-free music retrieval and downloads. With an intuitive platform, Tubidy Guru makes it easy to discover and store your favorite tracks with just a few clicks. Whether you're looking for the latest hits or nostalgic classics, this service offers a seamless experience for free MP3 downloads and music searches.

Free MP3 Download

With Tubidy Guru, your quest for a hassle-free free mp3 download experience is finally over. This platform offers a seamless way to find your favorite tracks without any hidden charges. Whether you're streaming or downloading, Tubidy Guru organizes music in a user-friendly manner that makes navigation a breeze.

Gone are the days of endless searching and confusing links. With Tubidy Guru, you can utilize the Tubidy search function to quickly locate the songs, artists, or albums you desire. No more unnecessary clicks; just pure music at your fingertips.

The best part? You can enjoy a truly free music download option without compromising on quality. Each download is formatted to ensure high-definition sound, elevating your listening experience to new heights.

Join countless others who have made the switch to Tubidy Guru for all their music needs. It’s time to indulge in a world of unlimited free mp3 downloads. Experience the convenience and quality that everyone is talking about—unlock your musical journey today!

Free Music Download

Experience the joy of music without limitations using Tubidy Guru's exceptional platform for free music downloads. With just a few clicks, you can access an extensive library of tracks across various genres, making it easier than ever to find exactly what you're looking for. Whether you're in the mood for the latest hits or timeless classics, Tubidy Guru has it all.

Not only is the service completely free of charge, but it also provides high-quality audio files, ensuring that your listening experience is top-notch. Enjoy the convenience of downloading your favorite tunes directly to your device, allowing you to listen anytime, anywhere – even without an internet connection!

Use the powerful Tubidy search feature to discover new artists and tracks that align with your musical taste. The user-friendly interface ensures a smooth and hassle-free experience, so you can focus on enjoying the music rather than navigating complex menus.

Don't miss out on the opportunity to enrich your music library with the latest releases and classic favorites. Get started today and unleash the full potential of your music experience with Tubidy Guru!

Tubidy Guru

Tubidy Guru is your ultimate destination for all your music downloading needs. Whether you're searching for the latest hits or classic tunes, this platform provides a seamless experience to get your favorite tracks. With its user-friendly interface and efficient search capabilities, finding songs has never been easier.

One of the standout features of Tubidy Guru is the ability to access a vast library of audio files, allowing users to enjoy free mp3 download and free music download without any hassle. Simply enter your desired track or artist in the Tubidy search bar, and you'll be presented with an array of options to choose from.

Don't miss out on the opportunity to enhance your music collection effortlessly. Try Tubidy Guru today and experience the simplicity of finding and downloading your favorite songs!

Tubidy Search

If you're looking for a seamless way to access a vast library of music and videos, the Tubidy search feature is just what you need. This intuitive search tool allows users to quickly find their favorite tracks by simply entering the title, artist, or even lyrics. It’s designed for efficiency, ensuring that you spend less time searching and more time enjoying the content.

Tubidy search functionality is particularly user-friendly, catering to both tech-savvy individuals and those who may not be as familiar with online media platforms. The results are displayed in a clear format, making it easy to locate and select the desired file for free mp3 download or free music download without hassle.

Whether you're looking for the latest chart-toppers or classic hits, the Tubidy search feature connects you directly to a multitude of options. Its vast database means that almost any genre or decade can be explored, fulfilling the diverse tastes of music lovers everywhere.

For anyone eager to experience the joy of music without constraints, Tubidy search is an invaluable resource. It not only simplifies the process of finding music but also enhances your overall experience on the platform. Dive in and discover your next favorite song with Tubidy today!

458 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

Text

“That Makes Me Smart”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

The Biden administration disappointed, frustrated and enraged in so many ways, including abetting a genocide – but one consistent bright spot over the past four years was the unseen-for-generations frontal assault on corporate power and corporate corruption.

The three words that define this battle above all others are "unfair and deceptive" – words that appear in Section 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act and other legislation modeled on it, like USC40 Section 41712(a), which gives the Department of Transportation the power to ban "unfair and deceptive" practices as well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

When Congress created an agency to punish "unfair and deceptive" conduct, they were saying to the American people, "You have a right not to be cheated." While this may sound obvious, it's hardly how the world works.

To get a sense of how many ripoffs are part of our daily lives, let's take a little tour of the ways that the FTC and other agencies have used the "unfair and deceptive" standard to defend you over the past four years. Take Amazon Prime: Amazon executives emailed one another, openly admitting that in their user tests, the public was consistently fooled by Amazon's "get free shipping with Prime" dialog boxes, thinking they were signing up for free shipping and not understanding that they were actually signing up to send the company $140/year. They had tested other versions of the signup workflow that users were able to correctly interpret, but they decided to go with the confusing version because it made them more money:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/05/amazon-execs-may-be-personally-liable-for-tricking-users-into-prime-sign-ups/

Getting you signed up for Prime isn't just a matter of taking $140 out of your pocket once – because while Amazon has produced a greased slide that whisks you into a recurring Prime subscription, the process for canceling that recurring payment is more like a greased pole you must climb to escape the Prime pit. This is typical of many services, where signing up happens in a couple clicks, but canceling is a Kafkaesque nightmare. The FTC decided that this was an "unfair and deceptive" business practice and used its authority to create a "Click to Cancel" rule that says businesses have to make it as easy to cancel a recurring payment as it was to sign up for it:

https://www.theregister.com/2023/07/12/ftc_cancel_subscriptions/

Once businesses have you locked in, they also spy on you, ingesting masses of commercial surveillance data that you "consented" to by buying a car, or clicking to a website, or installing an app, or just physically existing in space. They use this to implement "surveillance pricing," raising prices based on their estimation of your desperation. Uber got caught doing this a decade ago, raising the price of taxi rides for users whose batteries were about to die, but these days, everyone's in on the game. For example, McDonald's has invested in a company that spies on your finances to determine when your payday is, and then raises the price of your usual breakfast sandwich by a dollar the day you get paid:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Everything about this is "unfair and deceptive" – from switching prices the second you click into the store to the sham of consent that consists of, say, picking up your tickets to a show and being ordered to download an app that comes with 20,000 words of terms and conditions that allows the company that sends you a QR code to spy on you for the rest of your life in any way they can and sell the data to anyone who'll buy it.

As bad as it is to be trapped in an abusive relationship as a shopper, it's a million times worse to be trapped as a worker. One in 18 American workers is under a noncompete "agreement" that makes it illegal for you to change jobs and work for someone else in the same industry. The vast majority of these workers are in low-waged food-service jobs. The primary use of the American noncompete is to stop the cashier at Wendy's from getting an extra $0.25/hour by taking a job at McDonald's.

Noncompetes are shrouded in a fog of easily dispelled bossly bullshit: claims that noncompetes raise wages (empirically, this is untrue), or that they enable "IP"-intensive industries to grow by protecting their trade secrets. This claim is such bullshit: you can tell by the fact that noncompetes are banned under California's state constitution and yet the most IP-intensive industries have attracted hundreds of billions – if not trillions – in investment capital even though none of their workforce can be bound under a noncompete. The FTC's order banning noncompetes for every worker in America simply brings the labor regime that created Silicon Valley and Hollywood to the rest of the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Noncompetes aren't the only "unfair and deceptive" practice used against American workers. The past decade has seen the rise of private equity consolidation in several low-waged industries, like pet grooming. The new owners of every pet grooming salon within 20 miles of your house haven't just slashed workers' wages, they've also cooked up a scheme that lets them charge workers thousands of dollars if they quit these shitty jobs. This scheme is called a "training repayment agreement provision" (TRAP!): workers who are TRAPped at Petsmart are made to work doing menial jobs like sweeping up the floor for three to four weeks. Petsmart calls this "training," and values it at $5,500. If you quit your pet grooming job in the next two years, you legally owe PetSmart $5,500 to "repay" them for the training:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Workers are also subjected to "unfair and deceptive" bossware: "AI" tools sold to bosses that claim they can sort good workers from bad, but actually serve as random-number generators that penalize workers in arbitrary, life-destroying ways:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/26/hawtch-hawtch/#you-treasure-what-you-measure

Some of the most "unfair and deceptive" conduct we endure happens in shadowy corners of industry, where obscure middlemen help consolidated industries raise prices and pick your pocket. All the meat you buy in the grocery store comes from a cartel of processing and packing companies that all subscribe to the same "price consulting" services that tells them how to coordinate across-the-board price rises (tell me again how greedflation isn't a thing?):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

It's not just food, it's all of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Take shelter: the highly consolidated landlord industry uses apps like Realpage to coordinate rental price hikes, turning the housing crisis into a housing emergency:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/24/gouging-the-all-seeing-eye/#i-spy

And of course, health is the most "unfair and deceptive" industry of all. Useless middlemen like "Pharmacy Benefit Managers" ("a spreadsheet with political power" -Matt Stoller) coordinate massive price-hikes in the drugs you need to stay alive, which is why Americans pay substantially more for medicine than anyone else in the world, even as the US government spends more than any other to fund pharma research, using public money:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

It's not just drugs: every piece of equipment – think hospital beds and nuclear medicine machines – as well as all the consumables – from bandages to saline – at your local hospital runs through a cartel of "Group Purchasing Organizations" that do for hospital equipment what PBMs do for medicine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/27/lethal-dysfunction/#luxury-bones

For the past four years, we've lived in an America where a substantial portion of the administrative state went to war every day to stamp out unfair and deceptive practices. It's still happening: yesterday, the CFPB (which Musk has vowed to shut down) proposed a new rule that would ban the entire data brokerage industry, who nonconsensually harvest information about every American, and package it up into categories like "teenagers from red states seeking abortions" and "military service personnel with gambling habits" and "seniors with dementia" and sell this to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone else with a credit-card:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-proposes-rule-to-stop-data-brokers-from-selling-sensitive-personal-data-to-scammers-stalkers-and-spies/

And on the same day, the FTC banned the location brokers who spy on your every movement and sell your past and present location, again, to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone with a credit card:

https://www.404media.co/ftc-bans-location-data-company-that-powers-the-surveillance-ecosystem/

These are tantalizing previews of a better life for every American, one in which the rule is, "play fair." That's not the world that Trump and his allies want to build. Their motto isn't "cheaters never prosper" – it's "caveat emptor," let the buyer beware.

Remember the 2016 debate where Clinton accused Trump of cheating on his taxes and he admitted to it, saying "That makes me smart?" Trumpism is the movement of "that makes me smart" life, where if you get scammed, that's your own damned fault. Sorry, loser, you lost.

Nowhere do you see this more than in cryptocurrencyland, so it's not a coincidence that tens – perhaps hundreds – in dark crypto money was flushed into the election, first to overpower Democratic primaries and kick out Dem legislators who'd used their power to fight the "unfair and deceptive" crowd:

https://www.politico.com/newsletters/california-playbook-pm/2024/02/13/crypto-comes-for-katie-porter-00141261

And then to fight Dems across the board (even the Dems whose primary victories were funded by dark crypto money) and elect the GOP as the party of "caveat emptor"/"that makes me smart":

https://www.coindesk.com/news-analysis/2024/12/02/crypto-cash-fueled-53-members-of-the-next-u-s-congress

Crypto epitomizes the caveat emptor economy. By design, fraudulent crypto transactions can't be reversed. If you get suckered, that's canonically a you problem. And boy oh boy, do crypto users get suckered (including and especially those who buy Trump's shitcoins):

https://www.web3isgoinggreat.com/

And for crypto users who get ripped off because they've parked their "money" in an online wallet, there's no sympathy, just "not your keys, not your coins":

https://www.ledger.com/academy/not-your-keys-not-your-coins-why-it-matters

A cornerstone of the "unfair and deceptive" world is that only suckers – that is, outsiders, marks and little people – have to endure consequences when they get rooked. When insiders get ripped off, all principle is jettisoned. So it's not surprising that when crypto insiders got taken for millions the first time they created a DAO, they tore up all the rules of the crypto world and gave themselves the mulligan that none of the rest of us are entitled to in cryptoland:

https://blog.ethereum.org/2016/07/20/hard-fork-completed

Where you find crypto, you find Elon Musk, the guy who epitomizes caveat emptor thinking. This is a guy who has lied to drivers to get them to buy Teslas by promising "full self driving in one year," every year, since 2015:

https://www.consumerreports.org/cars/autonomous-driving/timeline-of-tesla-self-driving-aspirations-a9686689375/

Musk told investors that he had a "prototype" autonomous robot that could replace their workers, then demoed a guy in a robot suit, pretending to be a robot:

https://gizmodo.com/elon-musk-unveils-his-funniest-vaporware-yet-1847523016

Then Musk did it again, two years later, demoing a remote-control robot while lying and claiming that it was autonomous:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/14/tesla-optimus-bots-were-controlled-by-humans-during-the-we-robot-event

This is entirely typical of the AI sector, in which "AIs" are revealed, over and over, to be low-waged workers pretending to be robots, so much so that Indian tech industry insiders joke that "AI" stands for "Absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Musk's view is that he's not a liar, merely a teller of premature truths. Autonomous cars and robots are just around the corner (just like the chatbots that can do your job, and not merely convince your boss to fire you while failing to do your job). He's not tricking you, he's just faking it until he makes it. It's not a scam, it's inspirational. Of course, if he's wrong and you are scammed, well, that's a you problem. Caveat emptor. That makes him smart.

Musk does this all the time. Take the Twitter blue tick, originally conceived of as a way to keep Twitter users from being scammed ("unfair and deceptive") by con artists pretending to be famous people. Musk's inaugural act at Twitter was to take away blue ticks from verified users and sell them to anyone who'd pay $8/month. Almost no one coughed up for this – the main exception being scammers, who used their purchased, unverified blue ticks to steal from Twitter users ("that makes me smart").

As Twitter hemorrhaged advertising revenue and Musk became increasingly desperate to materialize an army of $8/month paid subscribers, he pulled another scam: he nonconsensually applied blue ticks to prominent accounts, in a bid to trick normies into thinking that widely read people valued blue ticks so much they were paying for them out of their own pockets:

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-65365366

If you were tricked into buying a blue tick on this pretense, well, caveat emptor. Besides, it's not a lie, it's a premature truth. Someday all those widely read users with nonconsensual blue ticks will surely value them so highly that they do start to pay for them. And if they don't? Well, Musk got your $8: "that makes me smart."

Scammers will always tell you that they're not lying to you, merely telling premature truths. Sam Bankman-Fried's defenders will tell you that he didn't actually steal all those billions. He gambled them on a bet that (sorta-kinda) paid off. Eventually, he was able to make all his victims (sorta-kinda) whole, so it's not even a theft:

https://www.cnn.com/2024/05/08/business/ftx-bankruptcy-plan-repay-creditors/index.html

Likewise, Tether, a "stablecoin" that was unable to pass an audit for many years as it issued unbacked, unregulated securities while lying and saying that for every dollar they minted, they had a dollar in reserves. Tether now (maybe) has reserves to equal its outstanding coins, so obviously all those years where they made false claims, they weren't lying, merely telling a premature truth:

https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/cryptocriticscorner/episodes/Tether-wins–Skeptics-lose-the-end-of-an-era-e2rhf5e

If Tether had failed a margin call during those years and you'd lost everything, well, caveat emptor. The Tether insiders were always insulated from that risk, and that's all that matters: "that makes me smart."

When I think about the next four years, this is how I frame it: the victory of "that makes me smart" over "fairness and truth."

For years, progressives have pointed out the right's hypocrisy, despite that fact that Americans have been conditioned to be so cynical that even the rankest hypocrisy doesn't register. But "caveat emptor?" That isn't just someone else's bad belief or low ethics: it's the way that your life is materially, significantly worsened. The Biden administration – divided between corporate Dems and the Warren/Sanders wing that went to war on "unfair and deceptive" – was ashamed and nearly silent on its groundbreaking work fighting for fairness and honesty. That was a titanic mistake.

Americans may not care about hypocrisy, but they really care about being stolen from. No one wants to be a sucker.

#tether #ftx #scams #trumpism #caveat emptor #cryptocurrency #twitter #sleaze #premature truths #bossware #pluralistic

374 notes · View notes

t1ts-4-donaldson · 3 months ago

Text

Art Donaldson x Best Friend Reader

TW: NSFW sex, degradation, water sports

Imagine Art finding smut written about him on reader’s computer

He needed to borrow it for an assignment. He promised to give it back in half an hour you didn’t mind. It's not the first time he's ever used it and he always gave it back in pristine condition,you never thought to delete or store those stories on a hard drive. Art wouldn’t snoop through your things, never. You trusted him wholeheartedly, always sharing secrets like the time you made and only fans accounts to help with tuition or when you helped a frat brother out with a dare by letting him film you sucking his dick the guy deleted it, he sold the video instead, yes Patrick bought a copy.

he’d never betray you like that, right?

He leans back on his headboard ready to start his assignment when curiosity gets the best of him.

You're not as innocent as you seem, it irked him that the girl who slept with plushies, cried at animal videos on instagram and got shy whenever he pried her into talking about her romantic life offered occasional sexual favors for anyone other than him. He kept those feelings in check, you're just friends but Art wondered if you decided to hide.

he clicks random folders smiling as he scrolls through files filled with photos of the both of you. Family vacations at his grandma's beach home in the Hamptons, hugging him after he won his first tennis match as a kid helping him hold his trophy, eating corn dogs at the state fair last fall with Patrick latched to his side. He raised his eyebrow curiously at the locked folder titled Art with a little heart next to it sweet

He cracked the password with little effort. Both your phone passwords were each other's birthdays he decided why the hell not try.

"predictable" he grunts, scanning the documents opening the first one realizing it was a mistake the minute saw the words on the page. Eyes almost popping out of his skull when he read the first sentence

"Art groans gripping my hips as he pounds my wet pussy"

he keeps reading completely gobsmacked. Entire chapters dedicated to raw degrading sex, you both doing everything indecent under the sun. Fucking in different positions, piss, creampies, choking. His cheeks heat up this is wrong

he runs his hand over his face feeling disgusted but the tent in his sweatpants says otherwise. The freak asked to borrow it a few more times over the span of a week jerking his dick instead of working on his anthropology essay.

“Thanks for letting me use it” He squeezes you tightly in his arms sneakily brushing his hand over your jeans barely hooking his thumb on the waistband of your lace underwear

“Did you ever get yours fixed?”

“no best buy’s tech team is backed up I don’t know why?” he stammers pecking your cheek shouting a swift goodbye slamming the door behind him leaving your room

“Weirdo” you shrug opening your laptop confused by the white slime coating the space bar

#challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #challengers x y/n #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #hannasmusings

91 notes · View notes

ppyopulii · 24 days ago

Text

maestro's muse 💿 meet the orgs!

PREVIEW. Join us in welcoming this year's organizers working the big event! Aren't you excited to see what we have in store? 🤭

FEATURING. lee jihoon x gn!reader, various non-idol!hybe groups & reader GENRE(S). coming of age, fluff, some angst EXPLICITS. soonyoung, once again; yeonjun, for once.

JAY’S MUSINGS. @studioeisa, this was created for you. yes, you. i saw your notif and finished this part in two hours. watch out for the next part sometime soon-ish :)

www.hybehax.tech/meet-the-orgs

@hybehax has uploaded a new post. Click to view now!

🟡 hybehax 📍Hybe University, S. Korea

hybehax Our openers for tonight are yours truly—HYBEHAX’s Marketing Team! We’ll be handling all the social medias for our upcoming event, so make sure to keep an eye out for new posts in case you get a sneak peek at our 10th anniversary’s hackathon setlist 👀📋 liked by energyboo.st, min9yu_kim, d1noz and 127 others see 11 comments... kimchi.won YUNJIN MY BELOVED kwonho5hi @/d1noz? more like DEEZ NUTS IN YO MOUTH ⤷ d1noz I hate you ⤷ chyeonjunie Ayo this is a uni org account 😭

🟡 hybehax 📍Hybe University, S. Korea

hybehax Behold, the reason our artists (AKA you!) are able to skyrocket into stardom with their favorite record labels—Sponsorship Team is here to bring you all the juiciest record deals with their sponsors! Make sure to come to our event to not miss out on networking events and brand deals! 💸💽 liked by y.jeonghan, eunchaye, and 142 others see 12 comments... y.jeonghan Lol who wrote the caption?? ⤷ seokminnies Do u not like it :( xminghao yoon jeonghan u are not fooling Anyone. aren't u bald

🟡 hybehax 📍Hybe University, S. Korea

hybehax Of course, what's a festival without its technical team!? These folks make sure our equipment is set up (read: the website registration is working), our artists are happy (read: no one is trying to hack our back-end), and ensures that all technological problems are fixed immediately (read: they stay up all night fixing bugs on the app)! Here's to you, Tech Team of HYBEHAX! 🤓🎙️ liked by jeonwonu_, mysakura_, junhuihui and 122 others see 8 comments... huh_yunjin my girlies <3 jeonwonu_ Vernon and Jun LOLL inthe_soob terryyyy 🔥

🟡 hybehax 📍 Hybe University, S. Korea

hybehax Here comes one of the main events: Design Team 🎨🖍️! You can thank them for our eye-catching designs this year, and can expect more like this if you follow us through the hackathon season! (psst. they even design our merch and its pretty fire if I do say so myself!) liked by luvfurikake, xminghao, and 136 others see 7 comments... kwonho5hi how come our design lead has the prettiest post ⤷ luvfurikake i'm the one who designed them you twerp 01bmgy @/chyeonjunie Why do you pose like that ⤷ chyeonjunie Idk, ask ur mom why she poses the way she does whenever I come over ⤷ penguin.kai hyung this is a public social media account...

🟡 hybehax 📍 Hybe University, S. Korea

hybehax Last but certainly not least, please give a warm welcome to our 20XX HYBEHAX E-Board! Without them, HYBEHAX wouldn't be as successful as it is these days. Now that you know all our artists, who’s ready to make some noise for our 10th annual coding concert!? 🎫🎶💻 liked by cscoups, kwonho5hi, and 139 others see 9 comments... cscoups 💯 leejihoon_ Those are not the images I submitted ⤷ energyboos.t THE IMAGES YOU SUBMITTED WERE BOOOOORRRIIIIIING

#seventeen #lee jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #lee jihoon imagines #lee jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #🏆 hybehax #maestro’s muse 💿 ljh #🎶 ppyopulii’s discography

76 notes · View notes

alongtidesoflight · 4 months ago

Text

in wake of yet another wave of people being turned off by windows, here's a guide on how to dual boot windows and 🐧 linux 🐧 (useful for when you're not sure if you wanna make the switch and just wanna experiment with the OS for a bit!)

if you look up followup guides online you're gonna see that people are telling you to use ubuntu but i am gonna show you how to do this using kubuntu instead because fuck GNOME. all my homies hate GNOME.

i'm just kidding, use whatever distro you like. my favorite's kubuntu (for a beginner home environment). read up on the others if you're curious. and don't let some rando on reddit tell you that you need pop! OS for gaming. gaming on linux is possible without it.

why kubuntu?

- it's very user friendly

- it comes with applications people might already be familiar with (VLC player and firefox for example)

- libreoffice already preinstalled

- no GNOME (sorry GNOME enthusiasts, let me old man yell at the clouds) (also i'm playing this up for the laughs. wholesome kde/gnome meme at the bottom of this post.)

for people who are interested in this beyond my tl;dr: read this

(if you're a linux user, don't expect any tech wizardry here. i know there's a billion other and arguably better ways to do x y and/or z. what i'm trying to do here is to keep these instructions previous windows user friendly. point and click. no CLI bro, it'll scare the less tech savvy hoes. no vim supremacy talk (although hell yeah vim supremacy). if they like the OS they'll figure out bash all by themselves in no time.)

first of all, there'll be a GUI. you don't need to type lines of code to get this all running. we're not going for the ✨hackerman aesthetics✨ today. grab a mouse and a keyboard and you're good to go.

what you need is a computer/laptop/etc with enough disk space to install both windows and linux on it. i'm recommending to reserve at least a 100gb for the both of them. in the process of this you'll learn how to re-allocate disk space either way and you'll learn how to give and take some, we'll do a bit of disk partitioning to fit them both on a single disk.

and that's enough babbling for now, let's get to the actual tutorial:

🚨IMPORTANT. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS ON A 32BIT SYSTEM. ONLY DO THIS IF YOU'RE WORKING WITH A 64BIT SYSTEM. 🚨 (win10 and win11: settings -> system -> about -> device specifications -> system type ) it should say 64bit operating system, x64-based processor.

step 1: install windows on your computer FIRST. my favorite way of doing this is by creating an installation media with rufus. you can either grab and prepare two usb sticks for each OS, or you can prepare them one after the other. (pro tip: get two usb sticks, that way you can label them and store them away in case you need to reinstall windows/linux or want to install it somewhere else)

in order to do this, you need to download three things:

rufus

win10 (listen. i know switching to win11 is difficult. not much of a fan of it either. but support's gonna end for good. you will run into hiccups. it'll be frustrating for everyone involved. hate to say it, but in this case i'd opt for installing its dreadful successor over there ->) or win11

kubuntu (the download at the top is always the latest, most up-to-date one)

when grabbing your windows installation of choice pick this option here, not the media creation tool option at the top of the page:

side note: there's also very legit key sellers out there who can hook you up with cheap keys. you're allowed to do that if you use those keys privately. don't do this in an enterprise environment though. and don't waste money on it if your ultimate goal is to switch to linux entirely at one point.

from here it's very easy sailing. plug your usb drive into your computer and fire up rufus (just double click it).

🚨two very important things though!!!!!!:🚨

triple check your usb device. whatever one you selected will get wiped entirely in order to make space for your installation media. if you want to be on the safe side only plug in the ONE usb stick you want to use. and back up any music, pictures or whatever else you had on there before or it'll be gone forever.

you can only install ONE OS on ONE usb drive. so you need to do this twice, once with your kubuntu iso and once with your windows iso, on a different drive each.

done. now you can dispense windows and linux left and right, whenever and wherever you feel like it. you could, for example, start with your designated dual boot device. installing windows is now as simple as plugging the usb device into your computer and booting it up. from there, click your way through the installation process and come back to this tutorial when you're ready.

step 2: preparing the disks for a dual boot setup

on your fresh install, find your disk partitions. in your search bar enter either "diskmgr" and hit enter or just type "partitions". the former opens your disk manager right away, the latter serves you up with this "create and format hard disk partitions" search result and that's what you're gonna be clicking.

you'll end up on a screen that looks more or less like in the screenshot below. depending on how many disks you've installed this might look different, but the basic gist is the same. we're going to snip a little bit off Disk 0 and make space for kubuntu on it. my screenshot isn't the best example because i'm using the whole disk and in order to practice what i preach i'd have to go against my own advice. that piece of advice is: if this screen intimidates you and you're not sure what you're doing here, hands off your (C:) drive, EFI system, and recovery partition. however, if you're feeling particularly fearless, go check out the amount of "free space" to the right. is there more than 30gb left available? if so, you're free to right click your (C:) drive and click "shrink volume"

this screen will pop up:

the minimum disk space required for kubuntu is 25gb. the recommended one is 50gb. for an installation like this, about 30gb are enough. in order to do that, simply change the value at

Enter the amount of space to shrink in MB: to 30000

and hit Shrink.

once that's done your partitions will have changed and unallocated space at about the size of 30gb should be visible under Disk 0 at the bottom like in the bottom left of this screenshot (courtesy of microsoft.com):

this is gonna be kubuntu's new home on your disk.

step 3: boot order, BIOS/UEFI changes

all you need to do now is plug the kubuntu-usb drive you prepared earlier with rufus into your computer again and reboot that bad boy.

the next step has no screenshots. we're heading into your UEFI/BIOS (by hitting a specific key (like ESC, F10, Enter) while your computer boots up) and that'll look different for everyone reading this. if this section has you completely lost, google how to do these steps for your machine.

a good search term would be: "[YOUR DEVICE (i.e Lenovo, your mainboard's name, etc.)] change boot order"

what you need to do is to tell your computer to boot your USB before it tries to boot up windows. otherwise you won't be able to install kubuntu.

this can be done by entering your BIOS/UEFI and navigating to a point called something along the lines of "boot". from "boot order" to "booting devices" to "startup configuration", it could be called anything.

what'll be a common point though is that it'll list all your bootable devices. the topmost one is usually the one that boots up first, so if your usb is anywhere below that, make sure to drag and drop or otherwise move it to the top.

when you're done navigate to Save & Exit. your computer will then boot up kubuntu's install wizard. you'll be greeted with this:

shocker, i know, but click "Install Kubuntu" on the right.

step 4: kubuntu installation

this is a guided installation. just like when you're installing windows you'll be prompted when you need to make changes. if i remember correctly it's going to ask you for your preferred keyboard layout, a network connection, additional software you might want to install, and all of that is up to you.

but once you reach the point where it asks you where you want to install kubuntu we'll have to make a couple of important choices.

🚨 another important note 🚨

do NOT pick any of the top three options. they will overwrite your already existing windows installation.

click manual instead. we're going to point it to our unallocated disk space. hit continue. you will be shown another disk partition screen.

what you're looking for are your 30gb of free space. just like with the USB drive when we were working with rufus, make sure you're picking the right one. triple check at the very least. the chosen disk will get wiped.

click it until the screen "create a new partition" pops up.

change the following settings to:

New partition size in megabytes: 512

Use as: EFI System Partition

hit OK.

click your free space again. same procedure.

change the following settings to:

New partition size in megabytes: 8000 (*this might be different in your case, read on.)

Use As: Swap Area

hit OK

click your free space a third time. we need one more partition.

change the following settings to:

don't change anything about the partition size this time. we're letting it use up the rest of the resources.

Use as: Ext4 journaling system

Mount Point: /

you're done here as well.

*about the 8000 megabytes in the second step: this is about your RAM size. if you have 4gb instead type 4000, and so on.

once you're sure your configuration is good and ready to go, hit "Install Now". up until here you can go back and make changes to your settings. once you've clicked the button, there's no going back.

finally, select your timezone and create a user account. then hit continue. the installation should finish up... and you'll be good to go.

you'll be told to remove the USB drive from your computer and reboot your machine.

now when your computer boots up, you should end up on a black screen with a little bit of text in the top left corner. ubuntu and windows boot manager should be mentioned there. naturally, when you click ubuntu you will boot into your kubuntu. likewise if you hit windows boot manager your windows login screen will come up.

and that's that folks. go ham on messing around with your linux distro. customize it to your liking. make yourself familiar with the shell (on kubuntu, when you're on your desktop, hit CTRL+ALT+T).

for starters, you could feed it the first commands i always punch into fresh Linux installs:

sudo apt-get update

sudo apt-get upgrade

sudo apt-get install vim

(you'll thank me for the vim one later)

turn your back on windows. taste freedom. nothing sexier than open source, baby.

sources (mainly for the pictures): 1, 2