#digit & friends

[daftpatience]

my son who is just a little guy

[shotbyacowboy]

okay i decided i dint like the cat and remade it. lol

[scarecrowbutch]

happy art vs artist 2022 !!  i’ve improved with my art so much this year, i can’t wait to keep creating more next year alongside my wonderful friends and loved ones !!

[familymassagejakarta]

Family Massage Jakarta

Family Massage Jakarta open for Profesional massage Center & Home spa call massage Service. TO make it easier for you to have a good massage. Which one comfort for You.

We open massage in place from Monday-Friday at 12 noon -5 evening, Last order 3/4 pm. ( Book first for schedule time )

And for Home spa Call Massage service 24 hours- anytime you want it.

Family massage Jakarta have man & woman massage therapist, which one better & comfort for you want massage. All masseur must be have Profesional skill background here.& experience.

Family massage jakarta is not plus plus massage. For Soft Launching, We are open for family massage centre in place from 10-4pm last order 3pm. And we open for Home Spa Call massage service 24 hour. It's great that we can finally open a massage place business, even though it's small, we're very grateful, hope this can create additional jobs for all & have a positive impact on other communities, and receive better income for our team & their families, of course, hopefully in the future there will be more good again. And we can open a bigger place too for your convenience. For make your comfortable can be better if you want to come make schedule first, cause limited place.

Family Massage Jakarta: We can also serve calls to all areas of East Jakarta, West Jakarta, North Jakarta, Central Jakarta, South Jakarta, Bogor, Depok, Tangerang & Bekasi/Jabodetabek which we will start in stages.

Served by experienced, certified male & female therapists, not casual massage therapists. All must have experience in the field of massage, of course based on the home spa massage category.

It would be better if you order at least 1 hour in advance to expedite our performance on site & in the field.

There are various kinds of massage options that you can get & enjoy for men & women according to the quantity & needs of your body massage. As for the types of massage offered, there are those you can get at our place & some that you can feel for a call at your place.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

[jakekiszkasmommy]

Feel The Music

Warnings: 18+, threesome, DP, p in the v (also p in the b), ALLLLLLLL the smut, everything, absolutely filthy. MINORS IF YOU ARE HERE I WILL COME THROUGH THIS SCREEN AND SLAP YOU BACK INTO YOUR MOTHER

............

It had been a long day of meetings, interviews and rehearsing. Jake wanted to run through everything one more time before heading back to the hotel for the night. You opted to stay with him for company. The crew and everyone else called it quits about an hour and a half ago.

Touring with the band as an assistant, you ended up being more of a friend to the guys than you were an employee.

After cleaning up the mess in the dressing room, you found Jake in his usual spot on stage, so focused that he didn't even notice you. You found yourself wandering the stage, plopping yourself behind his amps. This is normally where Danny's drum tech sat, readily available during the whole show. You spun around on the stool before a riff stopped you dead in your tracks.

The vibrations from the amplifiers running through your body were going straight to your core.

"Jakey. Jakeeeee," you shouted. But he couldn't hear you. He continued to play, his eyes screwed shut in focus. You could see the way his back muscles moved with every strum. Every note. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Looking around at the dark side stage you spun back around, leaning against the amps. Surely he would still be another 30 minutes. What's 1 minute to yourself?

Your fingertips danced atop your bare thighs, pulling your green sundress up higher. You peeked over your shoulder at Jake as he continued to play and resumed your position on the chair. Opening your legs wider, you grazed over your clothed core. Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth as you felt how wet you were.

You let the music carry your movements. Circling your clit lightly and parting your lips in response. You tipped your head back to rest along the backside of the amp, feeling even more of the vibrations. Picking up speed you let out a small moan, halting your movements in hopes that Jake wouldn't hear you and know what you were up to. As he continued to play, moving into the most intense solo of the setlist, you yanked your panties to the side and slid a finger through your folds. Lightly pushing two fingers into yourself just the way you liked. Using your left hand, you continued the fast paced circles on your bundle, driving yourself mad.

You opened your eyes and standing at the back of the stage with his mouth nearly on the floor was Sam. Your eyes went wide in panic but you couldn't stop. You were so close. You thrust your fingers inside of yourself at the same pace of Jake's solo. Never breaking eye contact. You wanted to hide yourself away. You knew this was wrong, but maybe it was a heat of the moment thing.

You nodded your head towards him, signaling for him to come closer. He hesitated before slowly walking towards you. His eyes shooting from yours to your hands and back up again. You swore you almost saw his dick twitch. He knelt in front of you. And just as Jake's solo came to a finish, so did you. Your orgasm taking over you so violently you started to let out a moan before Sam pressed the palm of his hand against your mouth, silencing you.

Your eyes searched his and as you moved your hands away, he leaned in to your ear.

"If you stay quiet he won't know a thing." He growled. You nodded your understanding and pushed your underwear off your legs. Sam picked them up and tucked them into his jeans pocket. He removed his palm from your mouth but instead pushed his thumb past your lips. "Fuck, Y/N. You naughty girl. Getting yourself off to my brother playing. That's hot."

You swirled your tonge around his digit as his other hand slid up your leg. Popping his thumb out of your mouth you whisper in his ear, "Sammy, can you make me cum again? Please. Please- I-"

Just as soon as the words leave your mouth, his fingers are circling your clit again. Sending you lurching forward away from the amp. His left hand is splayed out on your chest, holding you against the amp.

"You are going to have to stay still or else he will notice." He slides a finger into your pussy. "Fuck, you're tight."

He adds another, his fingers stretching you out more than your own. The callouses on his figertips are just the perfect amount of rough. Thrusting them in and out of you faster.

"Dirty little girl. Come on. Cum for me. Cum for Jake." His words are swirling around in your head and you are thrown into your next orgasm. Unfortunately this time, you don't realize Jake is done playing in time to stop the moan that slips past your lips.

......

"What the fuck." Jake says as he peers over the top of his amps. Looking down at you, his assistant and one of his best friends...being finger fucked by his brother.

Sam pulls out of you and smirks up at Jake. "Someone was having a little fun by herself. Getting off to you playing when I found her. Figured I'd help." Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

You brush the skirt of your dress back down and stand up. "Jake- I- I'm-"

"Y/N," Jake says as he slings his guitar off his shoulder and llaces it in the stand. "You were getting yourself off to MY playing?"

You look down at your feet. "Yes. I was. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." You feel tears ready to roll past your lashes and quickly go to move past him. He grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest. The smell of sweat and cologne taking over your senses.

"It's my turn." Jake pushes his glasses on top of his head and pulls you into a deep kiss. He intertwines his fingers in yours and drags you towards the dressing room down the hall. Shouting over his shoulder, "You coming, Sammy?" And not a moment later, Sam is on your heels.

You barely have a chance to realize what has happened before Jake has you pressed up against the wall. "Say no and it'll stop, okay?"

"Yes. Ok. But please. Someone touch me." You gasp as he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up your soaked core.

Sam lounges back on the couch, watching. Waiting.

You knew Jake was good with his fingers. His playing showed that. But his mouth was incredible. Sucking your clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue against it made your knees buckle. You felt yourself getting closer as your hands tangled into his hair.

"Jakeeee," you whined. "Please. Please cane I cum?"

He breaks away for a moment. Your whining and moaning coninuing. "Oh NOW you want to ask my permission? To cum in my presence? Fine. Do it. Cum in my mouth then." He resumes his attck on your cunt. And with a few more circles of his tongue, your thighs shut around the side of his head, trembling.

"YES Thank you, Jake," you yell out. Your legs feel weak and he scoops you up and brings you to the couch. Placing you in between the both of them. You feel exhausted and your chest is rising and falling rapidly.

Sam pulls you over to straddle his lap. Kissing your exposed chest and neck. "Think you got one more in you?" You nod a yes. And he lifts you up enough to push his jeans down and pull his cock out.

You line yourself up and slowly sink down onto him. Both of you moaning at the feeling. You unbuttom his shirt and splay your hands out on his toned chest. Letting you move at your own pace, Sam lounges back into the armrest of the couch.

As your start to ride him, you feel Jakes hands sneak around your waist and pull your dress up and over your head. Your breasts bouncing with every movement. He kisses along your spine, up your shoulders and neck until he get's to your ear.

"What do you want, baby?" He growls low.

"I- I want you both. At the same time." Your eyes shoot down to Sam who has his fingers interlocked behind his head. A smirk playing at his lips.

"Dirty girl likes to play. Go ahead Jake. If that's what the lady wishes for." Sam says nonchalantly.

"I'm going to go slow. I don't want to hurt you." Jake says and you nod. Behind you, you can hear him undo his belt and push his jeans down. He spits on his hand and runs it up and down his length. "Okay, are you ready?" You stop your movements on Sam's cock and nod.

Jake pushes you down towards Sam's chest, giving him an easier angle. Sam takes the opportunity to grab your face and kiss you. Licking into your mouth. Spreading your ass, Jake eases into your rear slowly. You moan into Sam's mouth and clench around the both of them.

A low "fuck" escaping Jake as he stills inside you, now all the way to the hilt. Letting you adjust, Sam slowly moves his hips. You gasp at the fullness. "Please, Jakey, please." You beg.

Jake and Sam slowly thrust into you. Making sure you are ok and aren't hurt. You start to move your hips with theirs and moans start escaping your lips. Begging them to keep going, faster.

Jake grabs your hips and thrusts harder into you. You throw your head back in pleasure. Sam below you is absolutely in awe, watching your fucked out expression change as your get closer to your end. He decides to cirle your clit with his thumb again.

"God yes, Sammy. Please."

"Give it to us, baby. Let go. One more, you can do it." Jake whispers behind you. With a few more swirls of your clit, you are thrown over the edge of your orgasm. Followed by the both of them, spilling into you. Filling you up. You lean your head back against Jake's chest as your eyebrows knit together and you cum again immediately. Screaming their names.

"Fucking hell," Sam says below you. Eyes blown wide with lust.

Jake is the first to pull out of you, slowly. And then he helps Sam lift you off of him before carrying you to the en suite bathroom.

The three of you climb into the shower, absolutely exhausted and in shock of how the events even transpired.

You get shy all of a sudden. Realizing what has officially happened. Sam noticing right away takes your lower jaw and tilts it up to his face before giving you a soft kiss. Jake starts to wash your hair gently.

"Don't even start to apologize, Y/n." Jake says, "it was perfect."

You continue on in blissful silence in the shower, letting them take care of you before stepping out and throwing on an extra pair of clothes Jake had in his bag.

............

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.2k words // masterlist an: i'll add tags later tonight after work, but I wanted to get this posted before i leave <;3 tw: brief mentions of abortion, language

The bathroom counter was entirely covered with various types of pregnancy tests. After the first four showed positive, Aelin had gone back to the pharmacy and bought every type they had available. HCG tests that were no more than skinny bits of paper, typical plastic ones, digital ones. Not a single one had given her the negative she was looking for. Paper results from an emergency room visit yesterday morning showed the same thing, only this time it was there in her blood. 

She hadn’t gone to the ER for pregnancy results— that would have been silly. She went at the urging of Lysandra because since finding out a few days ago, her anxiety made her symptoms even worse. Aelin hadn’t been able to keep down liquids of any sort and dehydration quickly set in. A quick prick of a needle had fluids and anti-nausea medication flowing into her bloodstream. Discharge paperwork referred her to an OBGYN and had a script written for Zofran, a stronger nausea medication so she could keep food and water down. It had become her best friend.

The thought of an abortion had crossed her mind, even in the moments before Lysandra had asked if she wanted to keep it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be a mother— she did. But it was a dream that happened after she was more settled in her career and in a fully committed relationship. Not while she was opening the second office and had so much hard work ahead of her, not when she barely knew the father. 

It wasn’t an idea she could fully entertain without talking to Rowan first, to see where he stood on it. But she already knew what her choice was, even if he didn’t want the responsibility. She would keep it. As much as her anxiety felt like walking on the wooden slats of a rickety rope bridge over a gaping canyon, a deep love was already blooming in her heart the size of a sesame seed. It would only get bigger with each passing day, that what-ifs of it all dancing behind her eyelids while she slept. 

What are you up to tonight? I’m in Doranelle and if you can swing it, I want to see you

She shot off the text and stared out her office window while she waited for a reply. It had been a lie, she wasn’t in Doranelle. But she needed to see Rowan and talk to him about everything as soon as possible. With a mind full of racing thoughts and unanswered questions, of the half truths she’d given him about her life… the only thing that could truly calm her nerves was talking it through with him. 

All yours after 6. 

A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she glanced at the time— 4:30– then rubbed at her temples. It was going to be a long night. 

~*~ 

It was the first time Aelin had been to Rowan’s house in Doranelle. All of their time had been spent at her apartment so far. In fact, she had only been over to his apartment in Varese a single time, just long enough for him to grab something before they went out on their downtown adventure. 

The apartment was nice, of course, but didn’t seem to hold a candle to the house she was parked in front of. When pulling down the long and winding driveway, her eyes darted between the numbers on the house as soon as it appeared and what she had entered into her GPS. Rowan’s SUV in the driveway assured her it was the correct home, but… 

How the hell did a man on a coach’s salary afford this house plus a luxury apartment in another major city? 

It was new construction, a contemporary home made of dark wood and ebony stone. It was nestled back off the road and surrounded by towering oak trees in every direction. Long curtains were drawn inside, hiding which rooms had walls of floor to ceiling windows. She imagined him laying on his couch after a long day with the curtains open, gazing out at the setting sun beyond the trees. 

It was beautiful. The tranquility of it was amped up to a thousand when she opened her door and stepped out. Somewhere in the tree line a stream trickled along, the soft sound of moving water enough to calm her nerves if only a little. 

Almost as soon as her toes touched the bottom step that led up to the porch, the front door swung open. Rowan grinned at her, a dish towel in his hands while he dried them. Scents of garlic, onion, rosemary, and other spices wafted out the front door. Thankfully her stomach only growled in response and didn’t have her bent  over the railing to empty her stomach into the bushes. 

“Hey, you,” he said softly, meeting her halfway across the porch. Long fingers tilted her head back so he could press a sweet kiss to her lips. 

“Hi,” she whispered back, standing on her toes to kiss him again. Rowan took her hand and led her through the door and toward the kitchen. Even though she offered, he insisted she sit at the bar while he finished dinner. 

“Wine?”

“Water, please.” Thankfully it didn’t raise any questions about why. He filled a tall glass with ice water and slid it over the counter to her before turning to resume dinner. 

“How was your day?”

“Long,” she sighed, nervous fingers drumming against her stomach. One of her legs had taken to bouncing on the wooden footrest and her breaths became shorter, more frequent. Nausea swirled in the pit of her belly but this, she knew, wasn’t morning sickness. Aelin didn’t realize she was biting her lip until she tasted metal, nor did she realize Rowan had moved to her side. 

“Hey,” his bent forefinger guided her face to look at his, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” Those four words, four measly syllables were all it took to douse the room in cold tension. 

“Okay.” Rowan nodded, taking a moment to turn the burners on the stove down. He guided her into the living room where he sat her down on a plush gray couch that she seemed to sink into. 

“Can I just—” Aelin leaned forward and kissed him softly, then sat back with her legs folded beneath her. As if on instinct, her hands folded in front of her stomach protectively. 

“You’re starting to frighten me.” He murmured, hand resting on her knee to give her a comforting squeeze.  Aelin wanted to laugh, and almost did. Instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up one of several images of her bathroom counter and handed him the device. “I’m pregnant.” 

Rowan was silent while she swallowed down her emotions, forcing everything to stay buried under an exterior mask of calm. His green eyes stared, and stared, and stared at the picture, fingers zooming in on the dozens of tests on her counter. 

“Is it mine?”

“I–” Aelin tempered her frustration. It was a valid question. If she were in his shoes, she would have been asking the same thing. “Yes. You’re the only man I’ve been with in the last year.”

It was a little embarrassing to say out loud. The last few years had been busy and she’d seldom made time for a personal life. It was exactly the kind of thing her mother was referring to when she meant that Aelin had a knack for having absolutely no work-life balance.

“How? We used protection. You’ve told me before you’re on birth control.” More valid questions that she herself had voiced to Lysandra in the minutes after taking the first few tests.

“My guess is that it broke? The condom, I mean.  I haven’t missed a single dose of my birth control. I triple checked.” Aelin’s knee began to bounce, that anxious ocean ready to swallow her up whole from not knowing the outcome of this situation. She hated not knowing things, not being able to predict how a person might respond. 

Locking the phone, he placed it on the sofa between them, a muscle feathering in his clenched jaw. Rowan didn’t meet her eyes as he stared forward and tensely asked, “Are you doing it for money.” 

“What?” She sputtered, immediately standing and crossing the room from whatever bullshit that question had been. Of all the ways she had anticipated him reacting, this had not been on the list. All of the nervous energy roiling through her quickly turned to something hot. Like some struck a match and threw it on a puddle of kerosene. 

“Are you doing it for my money?” He repeated, voice flat as he finally looked up at her. Rowan didn’t move from the couch as he stared at her, all the softness she was used to on his face gone. Any of the mirth and joy in his eyes she’d become accustomed to was gone. 

The butterflies he usually filled her stomach with had turned into white-hot rage pouring through every vein of her body. Aelin’s face was hot, eyes stinging as she did her best to force her tears away. It had been a long while since she’d become so angry that she jumped immediately to crying about it. 

Something had changed in Rowan’s face, too, as he looked at everything written across her face as plainly as if she had shouted at him. His eyes softened a little, his hands clenching against his thighs. 

“Why the fuck would I want your money?” She didn’t let him finish before saying, “Ask me what my last names are.” 

“You have more than one?” Confusion had his brows pulled together and wrinkles stacked up his forehead. Rowan stood, taking a handful of steps toward her. Aelin retreated with her fingers pressed against her stomach. “Are you married or something?”

“Ask. Me.” She demanded of him, voice and hands shaking. Tears started to fill her eyes and spill over, her skin so warm they were cool as they ran down her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had gone crimson, evident in the way they burned beneath her hair. It was the exact opposite of how she had felt the first time she saw those two pink lines on that pregnancy test. A sea of wild, unchecked flame lived within her, pumped through her heart, burned the back of her throat, her cheeks, her ears. 

“What are your—”

“Ashryver Galathynius. My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” Each of her names was punctuated with that fire, her entire body trembling with so many emotions at once. As much as he was into the stupid fucking sport, he would understand what it meant.

And he did. Rowan’s entire face went slack, those wrinkles disappearing from his brows, his jaw popping open. Even his arms fell motionless to his sides. 

“As in— shit.” 

“My grandfather and my father,” she added for extra clarification, so that he knew it wasn’t a distant connection. It was direct. “Ask me again if I want your fucking money,” she spit the word at him like it burned her mouth to say it. It kind of did. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that his reaction would be so callous and cold, that he would accuse her of getting knocked up for money. What fucking money? Why the fuck would she go after a teacher’s salary when her own checking account was so loaded she, and her child, would ever want for anything? 

“Aelin–” Rowan took a step forward, hand raised as he reached for her. Aelin held up a single finger and shook her head, recoiling from him.

“Don’t.”

“I need to–”

“You need to go fuck yourself, Rowan.” Her footsteps chased her like thunder rolling in for a storm, punctuated by the window-shaking slam of the front door. To give him one ounce of credit, he did follow her, but by the time he made it outside, she was already in her car, pulling a u-turn in his yard, and speeding down the driveway. Nothing but a cloud of dust remained in her wake.

In the rearview, Rowan’s form was blurry from her tears, his arms on top of his head while he watched her leave. 

~*~

It was late. Like, the bar had been closed for an hour already, late. The Neon Moon was empty, save for Rowan, Fenrys, Connall, Vaughan, and Lorcan. They had an off weekend, and a drink was desperately needed by all. When Rowan arrived at the bar half an hour before closing and pounded back enough drinks that it was almost alarming, everyone decided to linger until he started to talk. 

“Dude.” Fenrys poked his arm with an outstretched hand. The response was a slurred grumble in the old language that not even Lorcan managed to pick up.

“What’d you do?” Connall asked, bracing his arms on the counter. Rowan lifted his head, room spinning like he’d just finished doing ballerina turns. Aelin liked to dance. He hadn’t ever seen it but he could imagine her in tights and a leotard, a tutu around her waist. She probably didn’t get dizzy when doing turns. 

Nausea hit him in a wave and he took a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Closing his eyes made it even worse, so he kept them open and fixed on Connall’s face. Ballerinas did that, didn’t they? Focused on one spot so they didn’t get dizzy or fall out of their tight spins? 

As the nausea abated, he remembered holding Aelin’s hair back for her while she was sick a couple weeks ago. Neither of them knew it then, but she was pregnant. He wondered if she was still feeling sick all the time or if it was getting better every week. A frown took over his whole face, eyes dropping to focus on a dent in the counter. Someone had carved a heart there, and he wanted to scribble over it. 

“She’s pregnant.” Was all he managed to get out, trying his hardest to enunciate his words. Everyone went utterly still and silent, Lorcan moving to sit in the chair beside him. 

“Did she fucking–” he started, leaning his head down to try to look at Rowan’s face. The silver-haired man waved his friend off, shaking his head like an indignant child.

“I’m not drinking because of the baby. Or the woman.” It was true. Rowan had always wanted to be a father, it was a dream of his. Sure, it would have been nice if it happened in a more ideal way, but that wasn’t why he took so many shots as soon as he walked through the door. No, it was the look on her face when he coldly asked if she wanted money. The betrayal that slowly leached over her features, the way she bit back tears until she couldn’t anymore. “I monumentally fucked up.”

“That does usually lead to a baby,” Fen quipped, a sly smirk starting to appear on his lips. As quickly as it started to form, though, it vanished after a hard smack! against the side of his head, courtesy of Lorcan. The fair side to Connall’s dark coin groaned, blindly slapping his hand against his attacker’s shoulder. Another searing look from Lorcan had Fen’s hands falling back into his lap. 

“In what way?” Vaughan had leaned forward to see around Lorcan’s head while he spoke. The wood was cool against Rowan’s cheek as he laid his head on the bar, desperate to stop the spinning of the room. 

“She told me she was pregnant, showed me all the tests from a photo on her phone,” Rowan waved his hand toward his phone that he frowned at, “And then I asked her if she did it for money.”

“Oh, you bloody wanker,” Fenrys mumbled, shaking his head. The man in question was sitting up on the counter, legs dangling over the edge. His foot twitched like he debated kicking him in the knee. Rowan wouldn’t have blamed him. He deserved worse than that. 

“It’s a valid question.” Lorcan’s voice was sharp enough that Fenrys twisted his mouth to the side, eyes narrowed like he might disagree with him, but wouldn’t to avoid further physical injury. Instead, he offered a shrug of his shoulders and kept his mouth firmly shut as Rowan laid his head back down. Something was damp beneath his cheek, cooling his whiskey-hot skin. 

“It really wasn’t. Not when she told me that Ciaran Ashryver is her grandfather and Rhoe Galathynius is her godsdamn father,” Rowan growled. His anger and irritation was pointed to no one but himself. “She doesn’t need my money. I’m pretty sure she still thinks I’m a soccer coach because she was absolutely mind boggled that I’d even ask her such a thing. I don’t even know why I asked, either. The fear of it all, of–”

“Her father is Rhoe Galathynius?” Lorcan cut in, and Rowan wanted to kiss his forehead for cutting off that spiral. 

“Yep,” he replied, the p sound popping more than it normally would. And her cousin is Aedion bloody Ashryver! How did I not see it? They look nearly like twins! They have the same face!” Rowan shouted, palm slapping against the counter between each revelation. Fenrys jolted, eyes widening as he slipped off the bar and an entire seat away. Rowan was too drunk to shoot him an apologetic look for coming so close to his leg. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out,” Connall said smoothly, grabbing an empty glass and filling it with water. 

“Are you telling me you fucking knew?” Rowan said through clenched teeth, lifting his head so he felt like he was seeing the room through a kaleidoscope. Despite the whirling of the world, he met his friend's gaze. A bit of mirth twinkled in Connall’s eyes, a match for the anger in Rowan’s own head on. Clearly Connall only had loyalty to his brother and himself, if he just threw Rowan to the wolves like that.

“I didn’t know her exact relation, I just assumed. They look too much alike to be anything else. Did I know she was a football princess? No, but she knew too much about the sport when you talked, I figured she was involved in some way.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Connall slid the water toward Rowan. “And she definitely doesn’t know who you are. Earlier this week she was asking me if the boys had any games this weekend because she wanted to see you but didn’t want to interfere with your coaching. She’s never pried about what you do for a living, always took it at face value and assumed you were being honest.”

“I want another drink,” Rowan grumbled.

That was the other thing, wasn’t it? Sure, she had been lying. But so had he. In that initial moment of shock, where he felt like history could be repeating all over again, he’d lost it. Deep down, he knew that wasn’t the case. How timid and nervous she was, how sick she had been, the evidence in the picture of dozens of tests covering her bathroom counter. Rowan had seen it all with his own two eyes and still taken the shitty, cold, asshole route. 

If he was being honest, at the time it felt like the easier road to take. Aelin clearly had a temper hiding under her skin, though. Those remarkable eyes of hers had glowed with the anger he sparked. It had been fire in her eyes, white hot and raging. Maybe it had been the light playing off the tears that welled in her eyes, making her eyes glitter, but he had never seen anyone quite so angry, or quite so devastatingly beautiful. 

That was the mother of his child. A stunning, spit-fire of a woman that it was all too easy to imagine a future with. A life with. Even before finding out about the baby Rowan had imagined ways he could make the long distance work when she went back to Orynth in a few months. Now, it felt stupid. A bomb had been detonated and it was entirely his fault. Because he was the bomb. Ruining everything good that touched him. 

Perhaps he should have been drunk when she delivered the news. Drunk Rowan would never have said that to her. 

“She’s so pretty,” he mumbled aloud, finger dipping into the puddle his ice glass made and beginning to write her name across the bar. Lorcan nudged his shoulder, shaking his head. Right. That was pathetic. Rowan Whitethorn was not pathetic. To prove it, he picked up the glass of whiskey Connall handed him and downed it in one go. 

“I can’t believe you asked Aelin Galathynius if she wanted money.” It seemed that Fen could no longer  restrain his smart mouth. His chest shook with suppressed laughter. “Hate to break it you, mate, but I’m pretty sure–”

“Fenrys,” Lorcan growled, immediately shutting the pup up. Even the laughter in his face was quick to die off. Drunk Rowan was grateful for it. Right now he was toeing the line of punch first, ask questions later. “Let’s get you home. We’ll start to figure this out tomorrow.”

Despite his words, Lorcan still sounded tense. Like he, too, was clenching his jaw with frustration. Rowan imagined it had to do with him not believing Aelin, thinking she knew and was chasing his money or fame. That didn’t make sense, though. Drunk or sober, it didn’t make sense for her to want his money or his fame.

Rowan’s mind wandered on the drive home. If she wanted the fame, it would be easy enough for her to get it on her own. Rowan had learned in the hours after she left that if she had wanted to, she could have been a socialite. She certainly didn’t need Rowan’s help.

Back when she attended matches there were hundreds of pictures of her cheering in her family’s suite, of her on the field offering the players high fives, of her family out to dinner. If it was fame she wanted, she already had a clear shot at it. Besides, she was already a national treasure to Terrasen. The following she on the Fireheart social media pages and her personal instagram alone was more than some of his teammates had. 

Money didn’t make sense either. She was on good terms with her parents and after minimal digging he discovered she wasn’t teaching dance and piano. Maybe she did sometimes, but recently her name and picture had been scattered through the headlines because she was opening a new office for her foundation that she founded, the Fireheart Foundation. There were already multiple locations throughout Terrasen targeting underprivileged youth, to enhance the art programs both in and out of school. Now she was doing it in Varese, her mother’s home city. 

Aelin didn’t need money. She didn’t need fame. It wasn’t about any of that, and he fucking blew it by being a coldhearted bastard.

“Thank you for the ride,” Rowan slurred to Lorcan, who was probably his best friend all things considered. Maybe he should tell him that. Of all the people in the world, Lorcan was usually easiest for Rowan to talk to. He seemed to understand him a little better than the others, even if they were all pretty close. Rowan decided then that if he ever got married, if he could fix this thing with Aelin, Lorcan would be his best man. Yes. That was an excellent decision. 

Rowan hauled himself out of Lorcan’s car, feet stumbling on the street. He barely caught himself from face-planting on the sidewalk, recovering by swinging himself around a street sign and throwing a mock salute toward Lorcan to indicate that he might have stumbled, but he was good. He didn’t need help. Rowan had this.

 His best friend looked at him drily, quirking an eyebrow as Rowan turned to walk to the door and–

Walked directly into the marble exterior of his apartment building. Double over, Rowan rubbed at his stinging face to ease the pain. A glance at his fingers told them there was no blood. Thank the gods he didn’t break his nose.

“For fucks sake,” Lorcan’s voice was suddenly a hiss in his ear, throwing Rowan’s limp arm around his shoulders.

“You’re really fast, y’know that? And tall. You’re gonna dislocate my shoulder,” He slurred, eyes focused on the ground so he could get one foot in front of the other. Lorcan told him to shut the fuck up and walk. Wisely, Rowan did. 

By the time Lorcan half-carried him up to his apartment and dropped him unceremoniously into bed, he was saying silent prayers to whatever god that would listen for him to be able to fix what he had so easily shattered.

~*~

“I know we’re anti-Rowan right now, but I want to know what my niece or nephew is going to look like.” Aelin gave her bestfriend flat look through the camera, but Lys merely shrugged her shoulders. The angle of her phone changed and Aelin knew she was on the hunt. Honestly, she should work for government security. The woman could find anything on anybody. “What’s his last name?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t ever find the right moment to tell him what mine were, and his just never came up. I never asked.” Aelin rolled onto her side in her bed, frowning at just how puffy her eyes were from crying the last several days. It was ridiculous. If he wanted to be a prick about it, fine. Aelin didn’t need him. It would have been nice, but… 

No. That thought was quickly tucked away elsewhere, somewhere at the back of her mind where it wouldn’t pick and poke at her sensitive emotions until she cried. 

“What did you say he does? A teacher?”

“Soccer coach in Doranelle. He doesn’t have social media as far as I’m aware. I’ve never seen the apps or anything on his phone.” Rowan didn’t give off social media vibes, either. It was hard to imagine him coming up with a witty caption for a vacation photo, or having the desire to post pictures of his life at all. 

“Rowan, Soccer, Doranelle. Lets see what that gives us,” Lys hummed, fingers flying furiously across the screen. From this point of view, Aelin had a great shot up her nose. If she wasn’t feeling so morose she would screenshot it and save it for a rainy day. “Oh my– Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

At her full name, Aelin propped herself up on an elbow, frowning down into her phone as she said, “What?” 

“Rowan Whitethorn. Google that and tell me if that’s him.”

“Why does Whitethorn sound familiar?” It both was and wasn’t a question for Lysandra. It was definitely tinkling a bell somewhere in her brain, the name. And as soon as she typed it in and pressed search, she understood why. “No fucking way.”

“That might be why he asked if you wanted money,” Lys said. Millions of search results came back. Photos, articles, interviews, the works. Thousands upon thousands of pictures loaded when she hit the images tab, and her jaw nearly hit the floor. 

Pictures of Rowan in a dark blue uniform with Doranelle’s logo across the chest, a number seven and his name across the back. Images of him from the side, his silver hair french braided with the rest pulled into a bun. There were pictures of him held on his teammates shoulders, of Rowan making a match-ending goal, Rowan squirting water into his mouth on the sidelines. 

“He’s got personal interest in the game, is all,” Connall had told her that first night. A vague memory of Rowan giving the bartender a flat look entered her mind briefly as she closed the tabs and looked back at her best friend’s face. 

“Why is the soccer world so incestuous?” Lys asked her, laughter in her voice.

“It’s not funny,” she hissed back, but there was no bite to it. Maybe it would be a little funny in a few days. There was no doubt in her mind that Aedion and her parents would find it absolutely hilarious. 

“The money thing makes sense now, though.”

“It does,” Aelin agreed, rubbing the heel of her palm into her eye. “But I thought what we had was different. Regardless… even if I had known about all of this I wouldn’t have thought he would react that way.”

“Maybe it’s happened before. Maybe you need to hear him out and let him explain.” 

She did and she knew it. The shift in his behavior happened so suddenly, had blindsided her entirely. It had to mean there was a reason for him to snap like that. It still pained her heart and soul, though. Even if he had the best reason in the world, it didn’t take away the betrayal and hurt she had felt. 

At the same time, she felt silly for feeling so upset. They barely knew each other. Of course he would be cautious of her motivations. It made sense. If it had been going on for longer, would his reaction have been more mild? Would it have been sweet kisses and promises that things would be okay? Did Rowan even want kids? Probably not, given the status he currently held in the soccer world. The man showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. A baby would just complicate that. 

“That baby is going to be the most beautiful fucking thing.” Lys may have been mostly talking to herself, but Aelin found her lips tipping up at the corners because it was true. It would be. 

Almost against her own will, her fingers pulled up Rowan’s text thread. He sent dozens of messages throughout the week. Most of them were begging for a conversation, asking if he could call her. Some of them from last night made no sense whatsoever, words strung together in a way that made her believe he was drunk. There were six in a row from last night in the old language. If she had been able to read around the typos, maybe she could figure out what they said. The spelling was so badly butchered, though, that some were different words altogether. Complete gibberish, utter word salad. 

Then there was the single one he sent her today that simply read: I’m sorry. For all of it.

There had been other apologies that requested the chance for him to explain, but none of them felt quite as barren and hopeless as this one did. Almost like he was ready to throw in the towel if she didn’t want to speak to him ever again. Though she was angry, it didn’t sit well with her. Maybe she felt a flicker of anger in her chest because he hadn’t been willing to fight for her for more than a few days, or maybe it was because she was frustrated he would stop because he believed it was what she wanted. Either way, she didn’t like it. 

It was then that she decided she would give herself a few more days. A few days to process the pregnancy, his reaction, her counter-reaction, all of it. And then maybe… maybe she would be ready to talk. 

[4o4eros]

thinking about yuto's big hands being stuffed under eunha's skirt.

they only met cuz sinb wanted a friend to accompany her to kino's party and eunha only tagged along cuz she didn't want to suffer a serious case of fomo between her and her members.

between the nervous drinking and the unfiltered speeches that left her mouth before she could even think, eunha found herself cornered with the big man kneeling before her. a deep, delicious groan vocalized under her- eliciting a lengthy and shameless moan from her as eunha takes in the view before her.

"yuto here plays guitar, and he's super good at it." kino mentions towards eunha, introducing his friend to the circle. "you must have really good hands then." eunha mumbled, barely to her self as she realized she let her mind slip after taking a sip of her 5th drink of the night.

"how's my hands, noona?" yuto speaks softly, his voice heavy and laced with lust as he remains his gaze on her. eunha could feel herself growing dizzy, her body heating up from how insatiable her hoobae is before her- and how insistent he is to pleasure her.

the way they were barely hidden- her tight little skirt rumpled around her waist and her leg propped on his shoulder, a hundred percent flashing her embarrassingly drenched pussy to anyone that passes by- and this handsome, fucking big man... willingly got on his knees to impress her with his fingers?

eunha didn't even realize the sounds she was making as her hands reacted by tugging the soft locks of the man below her on instinct. her whines and whimpers growing shorter, and higher as yuto indulges into her- his rough tongue so keen, so dedicated into slurping and lapping each drop of her juice. and his fingers- god- eunha couldn't believe how deep his digits could penetrate her- and how full she'd let him stretch her (3 fingers in- and she's out of her mind).

"so good, yuto- god. so fucking good!" eunha manages to praise between her labored breaths. yuto only groans at her words, amping his ministrations as he seeks for her release. each thrusts of his fingers grows deep and more intentional- he can't help but put on a proud smug as he watches his noona's face scrunch up in pleasure at every shove of his fingers.

[ohboyitshya]

very excited to announce that after a years long search I've finally gotten my hands on the Fun in a Box VHS series, which I had assumed would remain lost media. these tapes have been digitally transferred and uploaded to archive.org so everybody can enjoy them now. (:

[bokutosmochi]

general iwaizumi headcannons

what's it? general sugar level? 0.7k allergen warning/s? brief mentions of harassment regulars? @hanayanetwork​

♧ one of those people who dress well without putting any effort at all. it's either that or he just looks good in everything, it doesn't really matter as both of those options are totally unfair.

♧ always smells good. this man could spent the last two hours exercising, have sweat pouring from his pores and still smell nice.

♧ has tried to learn the guitar at one point, but volleyball took up too much of his time, and now university's taking it up. still, he's learned a few songs and he has a guitar hanging in his room

♧ doesn't like carrying bags if it's not sport/athletics-related. if he needs to bring other things that aren't his keys, wallet, and cellphone, he'll just stuff it inside his pockets. it absolutely looks bad and bulky - is that a notepad in your pants or are you just happy to see me? - but he literally cannot give a single shit.

♧ the sweetest guy ever. will stand up for someone he sees that's getting harassed in the streets even if he doesn't know them, would cross the street if there's a woman he might be making uncomfortable, would pretend to be a stranger's boyfriend if some douchebag's not taking no for an answer.

♧ gossip is his guilty pleasure, mostly because of oikawa marites amp. one minute he's scoffing at people gossiping to themselves, the next, he's attentively listening to oikawa spill the tea.

♧ has a very asmr voice. it's deep and raspy and absolutely perfect!! sometimes he'll talk to someone and they'll shiver -- not because of intimidation or attraction, but simply because his voice triggering their asmr. especially if he's whispering to someone. or if it's his sleepy voice!!

♧ he doesn't really have a playlist. all the songs he likes are blended into one playlist and whenever wants to listen to something while studying, he just clicks on one of those 24/7 copyright free lo-fi music on youtube. the one and only playlist he has is the one he listens to when he's in the gym. that's literally it.

♧ ... really missed oikawa when he first went to california. he missed his sarcastic-sounding compliments directed to the people around them, he missed having to fish him from a group of fangirls, he missed his best friend. the person who's been by his side since they were children. iwaizumi was usually the one to initiate the facetimes and texts, hiding it under some lame excuse like wanting to make sure he wasn't dead yet.

♧ during his college days, he attracted so many girls from his university and even other nearby campuses (is anyone surprised?). they'd all invite him to house parties, only for him to politely decline their offer. though he did not pursue volleyball as a professional career, leaving his days as an ace behind, he still had a burning desire to be the best and that isn't going to happen if he spends his days partying and getting drunk.

♧ has his own signature scent that he's had since high school, maybe even middle school. he hasn't changed it because he's too lazy to do so - why would he fix something that's not broken? - and also because he likes how people associate him with a certain scent. he kind of finds it cute.

♧ absolutely not one of those maniacs that lets their phone battery hit single digits -- not if he could help it. he always charges his phone once it hits the thirties and always brings a spare charger with him if he's going somewhere.

♧ he's always ready for anything. and by that i mean he always has ballpens in his pocket, bandaids, a protein bar, anything that he may need through the day, really.

♧ his usual way of unwinding after a hard day's work is really just laying in bed, watching godzilla. obviously, if someone were to run him a bubble bath or something of the likes, he's not going to complain, but sometimes just he just thinks it's too much effort. he'd rather have a short, thorough shower than hear straight to bed.

♧ honestly has a hard time making friends. he's so focused on his studies, cooped up in his stuffy dorm room that he didn't really get the time to do so, then people who did want to befriend him were a tad bit too intimidated by his strong stature to actually come up to him and strike up a conversation. we all know he wouldn't hurt a fly though.

i get: reblog

you get: green curtains

do we have a deal?

[daftpatience]

the long-awaited sticker sheet of my mascot, digit

[pretentiousbrownie]

hehee yippeeeeee more blank cassettes have arriveeeeeed :3

just a smol handful of type ii cassettes from the 80s and 90s

they’re not like the benchmark standard for tapes or anything (most people would say metal/type iv are instead, but compact cassettes are just inherently biased and have limited dynamic range anyway sooooo), but I prefer type ii for their incredible clarity in the upper registers and aggressive presence in the mids, with a distinctive smoothness across their frequency range that a lot of metal tapes or basic ferric type i tapes struggle with

the sony ux’s are especially bright and articulate - awesome precision with low noise, the tdk sa’s have this wildly lush midrange and defined upper range with incredible sound stage and equally super low noise, and the maxell xl ii is supposed to be a nice middle ground with a pleasantly warm lower-midrange to bring back some of that musical depth, and are renowned for their durability and staying power

I’ll be slapping on some oc playlists soon - recordings are done w/ my nakamichi tape deck through cd directly, lossless flac/alac on my mac, or some lossy and compressed music from spotify (like these oc mixtapes will be)

the mac has a digital line out to my discrete dac, which runs out to the nak for as close to perfect recordings as possible :)

I do *not* record w/ dolby nr or dbx nr as most good type ii and type iv tapes don't usually need it on a high quality and well-calibrated deck

oooo! side note! cassettes can be hi-fi! (not audiophile) if recorded with quality sources and played back on quality hardware! they’re a neat balance of cd-like ease and record-like warmth, but with the obvious biases based on the type of tape used!!

they’ll never win awards for pure technical prowess, but if I could sit you down in front of my two towering bookshelf speakers, class a monoblock amp, vacuum tube preamp, and nakamichi tape deck to listen to your favorite music, I think you’d very much enjoy the tonal loveliness of analog

someone did ask me why I've been doing this again - like yes, tapes are having a v smol renaissance, but why go through all this trouble? and honestly, it's just a slower and more purposeful way to engage with music I enjoy - it creates a greater sense of occasion around the whole thing, so it forces me to be present with that and that only, plus the end results are physical things I can hold on to and/or give to friends :3

fun is fun, and i love fun music, so it’s a fun way to listen to fun music :3

plus, y’know, i have a retro 80s car, so playing back good music on the tape deck is also super handy ;)-

[thassa]

Some good things did come out of my large breakdowns I had a few weeks ago.

I've never had much faith in myself in regards to my goals, and I gave up on a lot of things that mattered to me. Music, art, social work. I struggled with impostor syndrome my entire life, and suffered from low self esteem due to the struggles that came with growing up with undiagnosed ADHD. I always felt like I tricked people into thinking I was smart because I could never do things consistently. And I pretended that I just didn't want to do those things anymore, when in reality I didn't think I deserved to do them, because I wasn't actually capable.

I realized that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to give myself more credit and be willing to make mistakes. I am allowing myself to realize I'm lovable, I'm likeable, and I didn't trick my friends or loved ones into caring for me. I'm worth having a job that makes me happy, and I'm worth pursuing my passions. I played my bass guitar for the first time in years the other day, and even though it wasn't much, it was... unbelievably cathartic.

For the first time in a long time, I'm making some new years resolutions and planning long term goals. They include:

- Starting therapy. I have been more stable the last couple weeks- I am trying to be kinder to myself and practicing grounding techniques for when work gets overwhelming, but I feel like I need to have an outlet to talk things out. I have reached out to a few therapists and am waiting to hear what their availability is like to schedule consultations.

- Get back into bass and art! I ideally would like to get an upright bass and join the local community orchestra, but I don't think that's going to be realistic for a while. That doesn't mean I can't play, though, even if it's for myself. I need to actually get my bass guitar and amp set up, but in my downtime I've been sight reading some music and practicing the rhythms. I also have been trying to draw more. Ideally, I would practice the basics, because I want to refine my style more, but as long as I'm creating I'm happy.

- Networking with the new marketing director at my current job. While the customer service aspect of my job sucks at times, I work with a supportive team and I know if I ask my boss, she'd support me trying to learn and grow, and who knows? Maybe I'd be able to shift gears from my current position.

- Finish taking this marketing course through Coursera, and maybe get a couple other certifications along the way. I'm on track to finish the Coursera course in six months, but I'd like to get it down to three, if possible. It's pretty easy to finish a week's worth of modules in a day as long as I have the spoons (and now that I'm back on my ADHD meds, it should be easier)

- Once I'm further along in the course and have more formal training, I want to reach out to the chorus my wife volunteers with and offer to do their social media. I know it's something they don't have a lot of time for (and it could use improvement), it would be good experience for me, and it would get me volunteer experience in two fields I'm passionate about: music and the LGBT community.

And as for my long term goals, they include:

- Getting a job in marketing, ideally for a company that specializes in music or audio

- Finding community in music. Be this getting an upright bass and joining an orchestra, or playing folk music with my wife and our friends, or whatever. Music used to mean so much to me, and while I don't want performing to be my full time job anymore, I want it to be a part of my life in some way, shape or form.

- Finding community in the arts again. I feel like I made some good headway last year, but my insecurities kept me from doing more. I also want to pursue more physical art. I enjoy doing digital art, but I'm definitely harder on myself than I am when I use a physical media. I place a lot of pressure on myself to make it perfect, which leads to my style being sanitized.

- Improve my executive functioning skills. I'm slowly getting better, but therapy will help

I haven't had a long term goal since I got married, bought our house and graduated college, which has lead to me just kind of floating around. I feel like these goals reflect what I've been missing and I'm excited to pursue them!

[audio-luddite]

Nothing is real or correct.

I am making headway on the ARC amp, but it made me think.

Decades ago a rather pompous man created an audio magazine because only he knew best. Actually come to think of it that has happened several times. I am currently talking about "The Absolute Sound" from just outside of New York City in the 70s.

His concept was two fold. The sound of any component should be judged only in comparison to live performances in Jazz clubs and concert halls or some similar site. It sounds like a good idea but is it even a little realistic? The second fold was to not take advertising from manufacturers as that is a conflict of interest. That fell away after a few years as it takes money to produce a real printed magazine. A friend and I were early subscribers and devoured each new issue. I know better now.

In a symphony concert every seat in the place is slightly different. I have sat in several concert halls and listened to lots of music from different seats. It is not the same at home on the system. I find my home system sounds better than live performance in general. I guess I cannot afford the best seats, but recording engineers tend to place mikes in the best places. Yes that big drum in the back is impressive live, but the rest....

In a Jazz club all the sound you get comes through a PA system of not necessarily high end quality. And be real, you are there for the performance not the audio or should be.

In a Stadium Rock event I need ear plugs as it is always so FN loud.

So comparing a system to live is not truly valid. Whatever you get is a matter of taste and luck

Consider the rather long chain of custody the sound endures from musician to your ears.

Start with the venue. Most recordings are done in purpose built studios with usually extensive sound treatments. Likely totally unlike your listening cave. How the musicians are set up and what equipment they use is very dependent too. How many times have you seen singers and instrumentalists in isolated boxes or behind barriers in a studio so the mike they use does not conflict with the ones around them. How natural is that?

Or how about recording a Piano. You always see several mikes around pianos for Jazz or solo or small group performances. I only have two ears solidly fixed to either side of my head.

Next microphones and mixing consoles all have characteristics and a voice. The type and brand and technology of the microphone all are adjusted and tuned. The sound in the mix is adjusted to get just the right effect. Accuracy, what's that?

One of my favorite audiophile albums is Cowboy Junkies "Trinity Sessions" Nice big room with natural sound, the band set up around a single 3D microphone using the gear they use on tour and basically no mix. WYSIWYG. But if you were there it would have sounded different than the recording as you would not be where the mike was. Still likely as accurate a recording as you can get.

Another is Steely Dan's Aja. Every track is fiddled and massaged and made to sound just so coming out of the studio speaker. Very clean and totally unreal.

A very good album is Diana Krall live from Paris. Listen to the group and "see" where the mix has placed each musician. Then look at the photo of the group on stage. Not the same is it?

Then the fun really starts. Is it analogue tape and which brand of machine Ampex or Studer and which vintage? Is it DSD digital or lowly PCM? Which processor! All those have a voice.

And now jump into your media. How is the product distributed? Vinyl rules! Well that's my thing. Which master remixed the master, what plant pressed it?

Both streaming and hard copy digital are valid and can claim lower noise and distortion usually. But those are just numbers.

Each electronic device has a voice some more subtle than others. The higher you go the clearer and cleaner it gets or should at least.

Thinking of phono pickups there are so many methods and products. It is really impressive how linear and consistent those things are in spite of all that. Many writers go on and on about velocity versus displacement and when that happens I know they are full of it. It turns out that blind tests show that what some call clarity and detail is just a slightly different frequency response. Or even a resonance in a convenient place. A few db here a few db there makes all the difference.

Still I find it remarkable that I can extract as much information off of a flat disk as I do with my modest three figure phono pickup. At the very base of the issue is like choosing a microphone. People have favorites.

In the digital domain you are depending on microchips. A DAC may have exotic this or that attached to them, but all the chips come from one factory or another made by people in bunny suits. Discrete components cannot keep up to digital speeds so the chips rule.

And we have not even got to preamplifiers and amplifiers. Tube verus solid state you have to choose a tribe. Both are best and neither is. Frankly it is the place you choose the type of distortion you like. The flaw with every tube amplifier is the output transformer. They all need them and they have a major hit on the sound. The flaw with every solid state amplifier are the gain devices and the feedback used to tame them. Tubes use feedback too!

Designs that avoid or just minimize feedback just force you to accept an acceptable distortion.

As I am bouncing between the tribes now recall that tube amplifiers are rated at 1% distortion. Transistor amplifiers at about ten times less. (Sometimes tens times ten times ten less.) Much better, but not better. It is the sound of the distortion that makes the difference and the preference. Some people like different stuff.

Oh time for the worst offender, the speakers. The frequency response is pathetic compared the quality of the signal going in. Why fret about an amplifier being plus or minus 0.2 db when the speaker is plus or minus 6 db. And the room has modes and reflections and well unless you are rich enough to build very special room you just have to hope your brain gets fooled.

And that is it really. Your brain wants to be fooled. If you listen to any system long enough you get used to it and adapt. If you only listen to single ended triodes into horn speaker you come to think that is the way things should sound. And you will find a tribe to support you like a cult.

It is a flawed process from beginning to end. But it lets you experience brilliant music and performances when you want to. With care and attention to detail you can solve the puzzle in many different ways.

And no it is never like a live performance, its maybe better.

There is no best.

[online-games-io]

Play Free Online Games

Free Online Games have become increasingly popular as they provide gamers access to a vast range of titles with the latest features—all free of charges. That's right, there's nothing to buy or purchase. And with our free games, no downloads are required either. All you have to do is play! So, the next time you're wondering, “Where are there free games that I can play online,” look no further than Games-online.io for a big selection of classic and new games to explore. There are a variety of free games to choose from, so no matter what your favorite game is, there's sure to be an experience that will keep you entertained.

Are you a solitaire enthusiast? We're the solitaire experts – we create the suite of free solitaire games that come pre-installed on every computer with Microsoft Windows. Or are you a mahjong master? We have tons of free mahjong games that are extremely popular among players, including Mahjong Dimensions, Mahjong Candy, and the classic Mahjong Solitaire. Or are you an expert with word games and puzzles? Our suite of fun games online for free includes enough crossword puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, word search games, and sudoku puzzle games to give you a serious mental workout! All of our games are free and unblocked, so you can enjoy playing them all day, every day. You won't find a selection of internet free games like this anywhere else!

What are the best free games online?

Here are the top (most popular) free games you can play right now:

1. Bubble Shooter

If you're looking for free, fun games to play online that require quick thinking and precision, give Bubble Shooter a try. The goal of the game is to clear out all the bubbles by lining up at least three bubbles of the same color. But beware, you're only given a set number of bubbles every round to clear everything. The game starts simple but ramps up the challenge levels quickly. To win, you must strategize where to shoot, aim carefully, and maximize the many power-ups on each level. Bubble Shooter is a fun-filled and quick game for anyone in the family to enjoy.

2.  Happy Wheels

Happy Wheels is an exciting and challenging game that requires skill and precision to master. In which the players need to control their characters through dangerous obstacles to reach the finish line intact.

In Happy Wheels game, players take control of a character riding unconventional vehicles and attempt to reach the finish line while encountering a multitude of obstacles. Each character can have a distinct set of wheels, such as a wheelchair or a bicycle. However, the game's challenges are far from straightforward, as players must navigate through treacherous hazards like spikes, mines, sawblades, and other deadly elements that can result in severe dismemberment of their characters.

3. Mahjong Solitaire

Mahjong Solitaire is a 3D take on the popular tile-based game. The rules are simple. You need to match up two tiles with the same symbol to eliminate them from the stack. However, you can only click on tiles that have at least their left or right side free from other tiles. So, can you match up all the tiles before time runs out?

4. Sudoku

Sudoku is a classic logic puzzle that first appeared in Japan in 1986. Its appeal lies in its simplicity: you need to place the numbers 1 to 9 without repeating digits on each row, column, and group. Because it's easy to understand, Sudoku appeals well to a myriad of ages and interests. But while it has straightforward gameplay, Sudoku is challenging, especially at greater difficulty levels. Hence, it's also fulfilled once you complete it. It's these reasons and more that make Sudoku one of the best free games around. So enjoy beating your (and your friends') best times with our free Sudoku version.

5. Spider Solitaire

Spider Solitaire is an amped-up version of one of the most popular free computer games of all time. Like the original, your goal in this game is to arrange all the cards in descending order. But with Spider Solitaire, you're working with two full decks! There are also new rules in place, such as not needing to alternate between black and red suits as in the original. But don't think for a second that Spider Solitaire is an easier game; it comes with its unique challenges. So, if you've already mastered the original, give Spider Solitaire a try. It's both a familiar and refreshingly new game at the same time!

Go play any of our free games today, and have fun!

[astroanemoia]

Some things about me :D

Pronouns: She/Her They/Them

Names/nicknames: Amy, Star, Amps, Ams Astro, Glitter Goblin

Fandom: Undertale(&Aus), Minecraft (LDShadowLady), Pokemon, Digital Circus

★Ive been in the undertale fandom for about 8years now

★Self diagnosed ADHD and Self Diagnosised High Functioning Autism(still doing research but I'm like 99% sure I am)

★I love to make new friends and always looking for RolePlayers(I only rp with OCS ^^)

★Im very slow at times and have trouble telling/using tone

★If I'm doing something wrong just lmk <3

★Im very friendly :D

★Im 18 years old ^u^

★I like Kidcore and Wierdcore/Dreamcore