#Sound Engineering Degree

[musitechnicformation]

Discover the world of audio technology with a Sound Engineering Degree! Learn to master sound design, audio recording, mixing, and production. Gain hands-on experience with cutting-edge tools and techniques used in the industry. Whether you aspire to work in music production, film, gaming, or live events, a sound engineering degree equips you with the skills to excel. Start your journey today and transform your passion for sound into a thriving career.

[gomzdrawfr]

oh my god somehow I forgot to post this

[rigelmejo]

learning to code!

When I was 9 years old, I learned enough html to code neopets pages, my own geocities websites, and I even made forums on my own sites so my friends could all roleplay together or rant together lol. And then? I forgot so much. I no longer no how to make a forum, or even a 'next page' button - so even the dream of just making a simple blog or webnovel site feels like a huge hurdle now. (9 year old me could probably figure it out in 2 hours).

So I'm relearning! I figured this would be a fun post to place resources I find for coding, since there's coding languages, and I figure maybe if you like running you're blog then you also might be interested in tools for making blogs!

First, for those of you who miss the old geocities and angelfire type of sites to make your own free site on: neocities.org

You can make free sites you can code yourself, the way 9 year old me did. A lot of people have made SUCH amazing sites, it's baffling my mind trying to figure out how they did, I definitely wish I could make an art portfolio site even a fourth as cool as some of the sites people have made on here.

And for those pressed for time, who aren't about to learn coding right now: wix.com is the place I recommend for building a site, it requires no coding skill and is fairly straightforward about adding pages or features by clicking buttons. I used it to make my art portfolio site, I am testing out using it for my webnovel - the alternative is Wordpress, but wix.com is letting me basically make a wordpress blog Inside my own site. It's very beginner friendly in terms of "how the fuck do I set up a 'sign up for updates' message and have my site actually email these people my novel updates?" and "I need a 4x20 grid of my art down the page, that lets people click the art to see it's information and make it bigger."

I did neocities.org's little html tutorial today, it's the part of html I DID remember (links, paragraphs, headers).

My next step is to go through htmldog.com's tutorials. They go from beginner, to intermediate, to CSS. Unlike many a coding tutorial I've seen, they explain what program on your computer you need to WRITE the code in and then how to save it and how to open it. (You'd think this isn't a big deal but I've been looking into how to learn Python for months and I can't find a tutorial explaining what fucking program to write my python in... notepad? do I need something else? I don't fucking know!! My dad finally gave me a printed textbook which supposedly tells you what to download to start... I learned C++ in college and for that you needed Visual Basic to code C++, so I figured I needed Something to Write the fucking python IN.)

[moreaujeans]

the nspire is actually driving me insane i hate this thing

[soapdispensersalesman]

I have no interest of going to university ever again, however there's this MA/PhD programme in Sound Design in Berlin I'd be tempted to attend sometimes, I went to the rundgang in 2022 and liked it!

Alternatively I would consider computer science so I could pursue software engineering as a day job but ngl that's more of a backup plan I'd rather just have to pay the bills and am not actually interested in pursuing beyond having the possibility to work in most countries

[taciturnraccoon]

Does Dusk have any allergies?

...No.

[appalachy]

*me to my 3 ppl groupchat* Hello my friends please help me choose my future career:

-archeologist

-art restorator

-geospatial data analyst

-gardener

-electrotechnical engineer on board

Thank you for any suggestions :)

Friend 1: what is art restorator like what would you be doing did you make that up

Friend 2: did you finish ur engineering thesis yet u know theres only one week left right?

Friend 3: def go on board get that bank🤑

[racingliners]

Re my previous reblog, I still think about James Vowles referring to himself, Andrew Shovlin, Ron Meadows and others as "The Brackley Boys" on his Grill The Grid episode on a rather frequent basis.

[ballerinafigurine]

Being around stupid people with fears of scarcity is the quickest way to invoke my anger issues.

[musitechnicformation]

Discover the world of audio technology with a Sound Engineering Degree! Learn to master sound design, audio recording, mixing, and production. Gain hands-on experience with cutting-edge tools and techniques used in the industry. Whether you aspire to work in music production, film, gaming, or live events, a sound engineering degree equips you with the skills to excel. Start your journey today and transform your passion for sound into a thriving career.

[confusednconfusing]

when you meet someone that’s more of a disaster than you

what the hell we gon do now

the someone being my engineering module fluid mech level 3

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[harbours-lighthouse]

YOU GIVE JASON TODD A SCARE

(inspired by this post).

— PAIRING: Jason Todd x F!Reader

— SUMMARY: You're running behind schedule, which means Jason's pushing through the traffic and rain to get to you.

cw: none wc: 1.2K

YOU SHOULD HAVE been home three hours ago.

Jason’s hands tighten around the handlebars of his motorcycle. The leather fabric of his gloves crease, slick with rain and pinching around his fingers. It’s not often that you hang back for so long afterhours, though Jason is well aware that you offer your help without second thought, often forgetting about everything else in favour of assisting where you can.

But it’s been three hours since your usual closing time, and you haven’t sent him a text yet. You always send him a text.

Clenching his jaw, Jason wipes his arm across his face harshly, brushing away the rain that lingers on his lashes. It’s not the vibrations of the engine beneath him that’s sending his thighs subtly shaking—no, it’s the adrenaline slowly inching into his system, the panic he can feel twisting inside his chest.

What if you’re alone in the pouring rain? Soaked to the bone?

The traffic light blinks green, and Jason squints through the sheets of rain while kicking back the stand. The line of cars jolt forward, brake lights dimming as tires roll across rain-soaked asphalt.

Exhaling sharply, Jason’s eyes constantly search around him, feeling as if he’s some sort of cop looking for the slightest infraction. None of Gotham’s cops do that here, but it’s what he’s seen in the few movies you’ve made him watch.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Jason murmurs beneath his breath, body leant forward as rain pricks against his skin, tapping violently against his leather jacket.

“Where? Tell me where…”

The traffic lights ahead glow a bright red, blurred by the onslaught of water, and Jason holds down several curses and a groan. He can feel the dread in his stomach, wrapping around his intestines as he slowly comes to a stop behind a white KIA.

He needs to reach your workplace—he has to see if you’re still there, and that, maybe, your phone is just dead. It must be, because he tried to track down the location of your mobile, but nothing had come up. No blinking blue dot on his screen revealed your location to him, and nothing on Earth would get him to ask Oracle to step in. He has this under control. He’s not going to panic. Not yet.

As cars rumble around him and the bike’s engine rattles beneath him, Jason silently berates himself for not having some sort of conversation about things like this with you. He should have given you instructions on what to do if your phone dies, or if you can’t get home for some reason—he could have prevented all of this if he had just given you the right steps to take. And what if you’re in more danger than he thinks? Wouldn’t it be his fault if you weren’t prepared at all or trained to some small degree in order to defend yourself? If anything bad has happened to you, that would fall on him. Without a doubt.

A horn blares behind Jason, echoing painfully in his ears. The lights have flashed green, the neon colour reflecting off the cars as they lumber forward again. He would have sent the guy a rude gesture over his shoulder, but you’re running through his head—bright eyes made gentle when they lock with his, and your words quiet and low like always. He’s sure that you speak quietly for him personally, like it’s your mission in life to never speak abruptly around him, and he’s never been able to explain to you why that matters to him.

But you’ve never needed him to explain anything. You’re too intuitive for your own good. Too understanding. Too good.

“Jason!”

His heart stops. Beats once. Skips a beat. Beats erratically again. That couldn’t have been…was that…you?

Swivelling his head around frantically, Jason pays no mind to the driver behind him angrily blaring his horn, the sound filling up the street. He knows he just heard you, however faint it was over the rain.

“(Name)! Baby!” Jason calls out, voice thick with worry.

“Jason!”

Yes, that’s you—that’s you.

And you’re flailing your arms above your head, jumping up and down on the side of the curb.With his pulse drumming inside his ears, Jason barely gives it a second thought as he floors it, weaving through the moving cars and crossing lanes to reach you.

People surrounding you glance at him wearily as the engine roars, but you don’t pay them any mind as Jason screeches to a halt directly in front of you.

You barely blink and Jason’s kicking the stand and hopping off his bike. For a moment, you think he’s angry as he strides up to you, with his brows pinched together and his jaw clenched.

Your mouth opens pitifully as you prepare to stumble out your rehearsed apology, but your words die on your tongue as strong hands wrap around your biceps, and Jason grapples you to him. A huff of air escapes you as you’re shoved against his chest, but the shock instantly melts away, and you grab fistfuls of his jacket in your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you say into his shoulder. Guilt gnaws at your stomach, and you let him tighten his grip around you, even if it feels like your ribcage might snap.

“My phone died.” Your voice shakes, and you squeeze your eyes shut as rain taps against your scalp. “And Meggie wanted me to help her with something after closing, and then her ride ditched her so we were trying to figure out an uber for her cause the taxis are terrible and—”

“Stop talking.”

You inhale sharply. “Okay.”

The silence feels tense, and the rain pricks into your skin like needles, sharp and relentless. But it’s nothing compared to the turmoil you feel on the inside, the guilt that’s threatening to send you into tears—but you can’t cry. No, this isn’t about how you feel, this is about Jason.

“Sweetheart,” Jason murmurs against your scalp, and you catch the tremor in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“I—baby, don’t do that again.” Jason pulls away, and he brings his large hands to cradle your face. You’re reminiscent of a wet alley cat, your hair sticking to your skin and your coat hanging from your frame, heavy with water. But he’s never seen you look as remorseful as you do right now. Any anger or frustration lingering in the back of his mind vanishes within an instant, as if it weren’t even there to begin with.

Purple and pink light from the overhead billboards reflect off your face, haloing your hair. You look beautiful, but more importantly, you’re okay. You’re safe, and he’s holding you in his arms. Despite the rain, despite the chill that clings to the air, your skin is still warm with life.

And that’s more than enough for Jason.

Shaking his head, he brings a hand to gently push against the back of your head and press you closer to him again. He presses a firm kiss to your temple, as if to hammer into your skin the relief surging through him.

Bystanders glance your way, eyeing what simply looks like two people embracing each other with an overwhelming amount of emotion. Feeling the panic in his chest slowly start to ebb away, Jason lets his lips fall to your cheek where he presses featherlight kisses.

You hum softly, fingers tightening around the creases in his jacket.

“I love you, Jay,” you say quietly, because you know he needs to hear it.

Jason’s heart rampages against his ribcage.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading, God bless <3

top divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

© harbours-lighthouse 2025 / i do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into ai. all works belong to me unless stated otherwise.

[anaalnathrakhs]

stupidest dilemma ever but if i even manage to graduate at the end of this year, do i go for one year at a preparatory course that'd be really good for work ethic and all the stuff i really struggle with, but 1) makes me stay in my hometown (which means, at my parents' place) for one more year and 2) makes me effectively lose a year of tertiary education bc no way in hell i'm starting out in year 2 of a licence afterwards, or do i immediately go for the three year cursus i'm aiming for, in a different city, but missing out a very needed crash course in organization and discipline and all related stuff.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Could you write a Lando with a toddler daughter, where they're doing fan stage, and Yn runs on stage asking for a snack and ends up staying to build the Legos they have for challenges

Fan Stage

The summer sun was high over the paddock, the roar of excitement echoing from the packed fan stage ahead. Lando stepped onto the platform, his usual cheeky grin spreading as he waved at the sea of fans. Oscar followed closely behind, a wide smile on his face as the crowd erupted into cheers.

“Hellooo!” Lando called into the mic, drawing out the ‘o’ like he always did, making the fans giggle.

Oscar leaned into his mic. “Hi, everyone! Thanks for coming out today—it’s hot, huh?”

“Too hot,” Lando said dramatically, tugging at the collar of his papaya team shirt. “I’m about two degrees from melting, but it’s worth it for you guys.”

The fans screamed louder, some holding up signs that read things like “LAN-DAD FOR PRESIDENT” and “OSCAR MARRY ME (please)” which Lando squinted at and chuckled.

They sat down on the tall stools, the bright orange and blue backdrop glowing behind them. On a small table to the side sat a pile of Lego bricks—the usual fan challenge. Build something in ten minutes. Fastest wins. Lando always cheated by just building a wall and declaring it “modern art.”

As they were halfway through answering questions, Lando turned slightly at the sound of tiny feet pounding up the steps behind them.

“Daddy!”

Lando’s eyes widened, twisting around just in time to see a small whirlwind sprinting toward him—messy curls bouncing, a glittery McLaren cap slightly askew on her head, and a pink stuffed animal clutched in one hand.

“Yn?” he laughed, instantly standing and crouching to catch her as she barreled into him.

“I’m hungry,” she whined dramatically, burying her face in his chest.

A chorus of “Awww!” rippled through the crowd as fans caught sight of her. Phones were already up, recording, capturing every second of the sweet chaos.

Oscar burst out laughing. “She’s got perfect comedic timing.”

Lando lifted Yn up into his arms and turned back to the audience. “Sorry guys, brief intermission. Apparently snack time takes priority over, uh, global fan engagement.”

Yn looked out at the crowd with wide brown eyes and gave a shy wave.

More “awwws.”

“She’s so cute!” someone yelled.

Another held up a sign they quickly scribbled on: “GIVE YN A SNACK OR WE RIOT!”

Oscar read it and nearly fell off his stool laughing.

Lando gently set Yn down near the Lego table. “You wanna hang out here for a bit, bubba?”

“Can I build?” she asked, already reaching for a bright blue brick.

“Of course you can,” Lando smiled, brushing her curls back with his fingers.

She plopped herself cross-legged on the stage, directly in front of Lando’s feet, humming softly to herself as she started building with pure toddler determination.

“Okay,” Lando said, chuckling into the mic, “you all now have front-row seats to what my living room looks like 90% of the time.”

Oscar leaned in toward the audience. “She’s already better than Lando at building.”

“I heard that,” Lando muttered, a grin tugging at his lips as he absently stroked Yn’s hair while answering the next fan question.

“Lando, how’s it being a dad on the road?” a fan shouted.

Lando’s gaze softened, glancing down at the tiny head now tilted in deep concentration, tongue poking out slightly as she tried to connect two oddly shaped pieces.

“It’s… amazing. Hard sometimes. There is a lot of packing, a scarily huge number of Barbies, and I know every episode of Bluey by heart now. But she’s my favourite travel buddy,” he said. “And she’s got a VIP pass to everything.”

Oscar nodded, glancing at Yn. “She makes the paddock like, ten times happier.”

“She’s our little team boss,” Lando added, smirking. “Tells the engineers when I need juice and gives me hugs before quali. I mean… who else gets that kind of support?”

More cheering. Someone held up a sign that read: “TEAM YN > EVERYONE ELSE” in glittery purple.

“Honestly, true,” Oscar said, showing the sign to the cameras.

Yn, still focused, suddenly raised a hand. “Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I need the square one. The green square one.”

Lando squatted beside her, quickly rummaging through the pile until he found it and handed it to her like it was a precious gem.

“There you go, boss.”

“Thank you,” she said, sticking her tongue out slightly as she snapped it into place.

“Perfectionist,” Lando whispered to Oscar with a proud smile.

After about twenty minutes—far longer than either of them anticipated spending on stage—Lando finally glanced at the time and winced.

“I think we have to wrap it up, unfortunately,” he told the crowd.

There was a collective groan from the fans, followed by someone yelling, “Let Yn host the next Q&A!”

“Tempting,” Lando laughed, picking up Yn with practiced ease. “She’d probably do a better job.”

“Can I take the Legos?” Yn whispered sleepily against his shoulder.

Oscar stepped in, gently scooping the semi-formed Lego castle. “Don’t worry, we’re bringing it with us. I got it. Sir Lego Security at your service.”

“Thanks, Oskie,” she mumbled, her eyes already fluttering shut as she clung to her dad’s shirt.

Fans waved and cheered as the trio made their way off stage—Lando holding his sleepy daughter tightly against his chest, Oscar following with the Lego creation carefully balanced in his arms.

Once they were off-stage and a little more out of view, Lando looked over at Oscar and grinned.

“Think we just made Yn the most famous person in the paddock.”

Oscar chuckled. “Mate, I think she just stole the whole show.”

Lando looked down at Yn, whose breathing had evened out, her tiny hand still gripping his shirt.

“She always does,” he said softly. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

���♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

-♡○♡

[starkeysbunny]

something about you.

pairing - rafe cameron x kook!reader

summary - rafe and reader have been in a friends with benefits relationship for months now. it’s been slowly killing both of them, but they’re both too afraid to say anything. it gets to a point and rafe can’t take it anymore. he can’t stop thinking about you.

warnings - fluffy as hell literally throwing up it’s too sweet

my eyes were closed, my lips slightly parted as i let out a huff against my pillow. it was friday. rafe would usually text me on fridays. he’d ask me to come over, stressed out from work, a long week—whatever it was. i didn’t care.

he needed me.

it was friday, at eleven pm, radio silence. not a word from him. i felt a gnawing at my insides. this man had a grip on every fold of my brain. and we weren’t even together. it was pathetic. but i couldn’t stop.

if i couldn’t have more of him, i’d take this. being his for a couple hours a week. all his attention on me, like it was real. for a couple hours, i get to pretend it’s real.

i turn and stare at my ceiling, hoping i’ll hear my phone ping. i was getting tired. but if he texted, i’d go.

it’s pretty sad. i know. my friends have told me to get up, so many times. shake his hold. but i can’t. i’ll take any parts of him he’ll give me.

ping.

i practically fall over as i reach for my phone, frantically checking the notification.

rafe

hey.

hey? i huff, my head plopping against my pillow. another ping.

can you come over?

i stare at the message, taking a deep breath. it was nearly midnight. i should get up. i should say no. say i’m sick of the casual bullshit.

but soon, i find myself slipping my hoodie over my head, sliding into my uggs.

yeah.

is all i say. i didn’t need to say more. there was nothing more i could say. another ping.

i’ll pick you up. it’s late. don’t want you driving.

my eyebrows furrow. he’s gonna pick me up? he’s never done that.. it’s always the same routine. he texts me, i go over. and sometimes he makes me spend the night, whether i want to or not, because he doesn’t want me driving so late.

but he’s never picked me up.

i don’t say anything, heading to my living room and sitting on the couch in my empty apartment. i recently moved out of my parents, and i’d like to say it’s just a coincidence i moved into the complex only seven minutes from tannyhill.

it wasn’t.

my nails nervously pick at the hem of my hoodie as i wait. it was the longest seven minutes of my life. my mind kept racing. something about tonight felt different. he’s picking me up. and it’s so late. it’s usually never this late.

ping.

i’m here.

i swallow roughly and rub my eyes, standing up. i slide my phone into the pocket of my sleep shorts. the only sound in my quiet apartment is the shuffling of my slippers against the hardwood as i walk toward the door. i grab my keys and slide them into my other pocket, heading for the door. i lock it behind me and walk down the stairs, spotting the blaring headlights from rafe’s truck.

i walk towards it, shivering slightly from the cold air hitting my skin. i look up and see him get out, rounding the truck to the passenger side. he opens my door as i approach.

“hey.” i say softly.

he was in a hoodie and sweats, more relaxed from his usual appearance. which contained a white button up, usually unbuttoned by the time i see him, paired with some kind of dress pants.

“hey.” he whispers. his eyes drift down my appearance. “why’re you wearing shorts? it’s freezing, are you crazy?” he sighs, running a hand over his buzzed hair. his hand comes to the small of my back, not even allowing me to respond before he ushers me in his truck. he shuts the passenger door and rounds the vehicle again to his side.

he gets in, the engine humming as he starts it. he glances over at me and sighs, reaching his arm back to the backseat. he grabs a blanket, gently laying it out over my lap.

“nearly thirty fuckin’ degrees, and you’re sleepin’ in shorts.” he sighs, muttered under his breath.

i swallow roughly, looking down as his hands gently linger over the tops of my thighs as he lays down the blanket. “thanks.” i whisper.

“mhm.” he hums, his hands moving to grip the steering wheel as he peels out of the driveway.

the drive to his house was short, and quiet. the heater gently enveloped me, quickly changing my shivering form from earlier to warmth. my eyes stay looking out the window as i feel the occasional glances from rafe to my side. his eyes were like blades, puncturing into my skin at every glance with a sting.

i feel the truck come to a stop as we pull into the driveway. rafe had taken over tannyhill after his dad died, and sarah moved in with the pogues. so, it was always quiet here. sometimes i wonder if he brings anyone else over ever. or just me.

i watch as he gets out of the drivers seat, rounding the truck to my side. he sticks his hand out for me to grab as i step out of the truck. my hand fits in his warm palm, his hand cradling the small of my back as i step out.

i stand by his side as we walk up to the house. i look up at him, my eyes soft. “r-rafe..?”

“hm?” he hums as we approach the door, he fishes through his pockets for the keys.

“um.. are we…” i trail off.

he pauses as he finds the keys, his eyes flicking to me. his gaze runs over my face as he lets out a breath. “no.” he whispers.

so this was something else. i swallow roughly as i feel my stomach drop. was he ending things? i don’t say anything more and he opens the door, allowing me to walk in first

whenever i was in tannyhill, i felt out of place. it was a huge, beautiful mansion. but it carried a darkness to it. i could hardly imagine how rafe lived here alone. it would eat me up. just as i stand in the foyer, i feel small and inferior in the big space.

“hey.” he whispers. his voice snaps me out of my thoughts, his hand coming to the small of my back. i follow him as he guides me toward the living room. my eyes sift over the space and he guides us to a window seat, outfacing the backyard.

he sits and gestures his hand out for me to sit. i nervously pull my legs into my chest as i slip off my slippers.

“rafe.. why-why’d you text me?” i ask softly.

he leans back against the window with a soft sigh, his hand coming up to run over the stubble against his jaw. he chuckles softly, throwing his hands up. “been asking myself the same shit.” he sighs, looking over at me. he presses his lips together, his eyes wandering over me as he thinks. “i’ve been-“ he sighs. “i’ve been thinking.”

i furrow my eyebrows. “okay.. about..?” i ask softly.

he runs a hand over his face. “everything.” he whispers. “i-i’ve been really stressed.” he huffs. “cameron development, all that bullshit. i just have so much pressure on me, y’know?”

i nod gently. “yeah.” i whisper. “i-i get that. but rafe, you’re so much more than that.” sigh.

he chuckles, his tongue sticking to the inside of his cheek as he raises his eyebrows. he turns his gaze to look at me. “i appreciate that. you’re faith in me, i mean..” he trails off. “it’s nice. nobody else has it.”

my eyes narrow at him slightly. “well, i mean it, rafe.” i whisper softly, my hand gently coming to rest on his knee.

he looks down at my hand, letting out a sigh and leaning his head back against the window. he looks back at me, his gaze holding mine. but there’s something different about it this time. an intensity in his eyes i’d never seen before.

his hand comes to rest over my wrist, his thumb gently tracing in my skin. “y/n.. i-“ he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

my eyes blink up at him, my eyebrows knitted together softly. “yeah..?” i whisper.

he’s hesitant. like whatever he wants to say is stuck in a knot in his throat. he takes a deep breath, searching for the words. he swallows roughly. “look, i-i know i’m no good for you.” he whispers. “but there’s.. there’s somethin’ about you, just can’t fuckin’ get you outta my head.” he sighs and pauses before speaking his next words.

“i-i want us to be.. more. than just this. i-i can’t stop thinking about you, y/n.”

my stomach drops. my eyes widen slightly and my lips part. “i- what..?” i whisper, stunned.

he presses his lips together and i see the nerves bubble in his eyes. “i-i know we agreed to be friends with benefits and nothin’ more but-“ he runs his hand over his buzzed head, a satire chuckle escaping his lips. “i can’t fuckin’ do this shit, okay? i-i can’t keep texting you just to fuck and pretending you don’t mean fuckin’ everything to me. i can’t stand the thought of you being with other people i-“ he huffs, leaning back.

“‘m fucking obsessed with you, alright?” he whispers.

my eyes blink slowly, my lips parting. i couldn’t believe it. he felt the same way i did? every time he’d hold me after we’d hook up, a part of me hurt inside. knowing it was temporary. knowing, that i’d never really have him.

and that whole time—he was thinking the same thing.

“rafe, i-i want that too.” i whisper.

his eyes snap over to me, they scan over my features. almost trying to see if i was telling the truth. “really?” he whispers.

“yeah.” i say breathlessly. “i-i’ve wanted so much more. i was just scared that you didn’t. and that if i said anything, i’d lose you completely. so i was just.. settling for what i could get.”

he swallows roughly, his lips parting. his hand comes up to my cheek, his thumb gently stroking the skin. “i wanna give you everything.” he whispers. “i-i don’t deserve you. i’m fucked up, and i get angry and i’m selfish. wanting you is probably the most selfish thing i’ve ever done. but i-i can’t get you out of my head.” he sighs softly, his hand gently cradling my face.

“i may be all of those things.” he whispers. “but i’m gonna work so damn hard to deserve you. i’m gonna be better, i wanna be better every time i’m near you, baby.”

i shake my head gently. “you don’t need to be better.”

he smiles softly. “this is what i’m talkin’ about. too sweet for your own good, baby.”

“so.. you wanna be.. real?” i ask softly, my voice cautious. “like.. official and exclusive?”

he grins, nodding softly. “mhm.” he hums. “want you to be my girl. just mine.”

i smile softly, my stomach swarming at his words. “yeah?”

he chuckles lowly. “yeah, sweetheart.”

i can’t help the grin that creeps up on my lips. i scoot closer, burying my face in his neck. “okay.” i whisper, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

his beefy arms immediately encapsulate me, holding my close. “yeah? you my girl, sweetheart?”

i grin, my cheeks heating up this words. “yeah, ‘m your girl.”

he grins, chuckling lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to my jaw. “‘m sorry i didn’t say anything sooner. made you think i was stringing you along.”

“no..” i shake my head softly. “‘m just glad i have you now.” i whisper. “in every way.”

he smiles, tugging me impossibly closer. “in every way.” he promises.

-

sickeningly sweet 🙂‍↕️ i’m a sucker for fluff srryyyy