#Goes to school a few hours a week mostly chatting with his assistant

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.14}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The first few weeks of classes went by in a breeze. With potions and herbology out of the picture now, Robin had a lot of time to study for those four classes that she still had left to take, and she also got around to doing plenty of work on her own research on the side. The evenings however remained reserved for working in the lab or the office, for chatting and overall for spending time with Snape. Their work was either of a more experimental nature these days, or consisted of basic tasks imposed on them by the school. At the same time they tried to slowly work their way through the almost countless ingredients they had gathered over summer, experimenting with different modes of preservation and use.

During the day however, Robin soon found herself with an underwhelming amount of work to do, while Snape was obviously busy, as were her roommates, and she often found herself already bored by noon. Four classes… it wasn't a lot, even if she read ahead and did her assignments more thoroughly than anyone could expect of her. So she picked up an old habit and read up on random things in her freetime, whenever she had seen enough plants and dead animals on dusty book pages for a day. Whether it was books and articles on the dark arts, ministry decrees and political dealings, or something as pathetic as Cas' collection of glossy magazines… Robin read anything she could get her hands on.

Surprisingly enough, there had been no further issues with Morgan after the welcoming feast as of yet, and he merely gave Robin poor grades one day and the highest scores the next, as if he himself couldn't even make up his mind about what the situation between them was supposed to be like now. He did throw Robin the most bone chilling glances at times though, full of yearning and hatred and craze that even the other students commented on occasionally, but that was it. Honestly, Robin was glad about it and she knew that Snape was too. As long as Morgan stayed subtle in his insanity, they wouldn't bother with him either.

In the third week of term, Dumbledore had invited Robin to tea indeed, like he had announced before the holidays, and Robin had accepted for the sole purpose of finding out more about what the man was playing at. Of course it hadn't been that easy though, it never was, and she had left his office no wiser in the end, and with more questions than she'd started out with. The headmaster truly was ineffable by default, a mystery she just wasn't able to solve and that grew more complicated the longer she pried. But it had been painfully obvious to her at least that he knew something he was keeping from her on purpose, something that wasn't as simple as a reason for ignoring the assault on a student. However she had quickly come to realise that if she called out Dumbledore for protecting Morgan, she would cut into her own flesh, seeing as he was protecting her 'ties' with Snape just the same. In a way, Robin had admired Dumbledore for getting her caught up far enough in his system of liabilities that she wasn't in a position any longer to call him out for his wrongs. She had become a threat to him somehow, or an unpredictable factor in his game at least, and he had easily put her on a leash to keep her under control. It was a brilliant move, to her disadvantage admittedly, but brilliant no less.

One good outcome of having tea with the headmaster was that Robin had been asked to occasionally assist the professors in a few of the more practical classes for the lower years, such as herbology and care of magical creatures, but not potions however, which Robin had taken immediate notice of and was honestly glad about. She couldn't imagine working with Snape as anything but equals at this point, and it probably wouldn't be the best idea to showcase just how close they were in their friendship in front of a class full of his students. But assisting the other professors from time to time when they needed a hand would certainly take some access time off her hands and perhaps prevent her from going through Cas' collection of YA novels next, and that definitely was a gain more than a loss. Maybe she could mention it in her CV at the end of the year, when she would be done with school and left to find a job to pay for a living. Gods, she had no idea what she would do then… she didn't even know what kind of job she could do at this point. But she still had a few months to figure that out after all, and for the moment, she preferred to remain in blissful ignorance of the more distant future.

… … …

Before long it was the middle of October, or more precisely, the nineteenth thereof. A day prior to Robin's birthday, and in remembrance of the last one, she actually found herself excited for it this year. Not because of presents she might or might not receive, she honestly still didn't care about that all too much, but mostly because she'd actually had such a lovely day last year, and she hoped that she would have an even better one this time around. Actually she was quite sure that she would, because for the first time in all her years at this school she wouldn't have Morgan's class on her birthday, which in itself was already a huge improvement to any other year before.

For days on end, however, Jorien and Cas had pleaded Robin to celebrate into her birthday together, if celebrating even was the appropriate word for spending the evening in their room together doing whatever it was the two girls were thinking of, and after days of hearing their begging, Robin had finally agreed on a compromise. That's why in the evening of the nineteenth, Robin found herself in a sudden hurry upon catching a glimpse at her watch at half past ten at night, and she finished her coffee in one big gulp in return.

"Are you alright?" Snape quirked an eyebrow at her in question, obviously startled by her sudden jump into action after hours of calmly sitting across from him with her legs crossed on the chair.

"No, I'm late!" She sighed in return and gave him an almost sad half smile. "I told you I promised the girls to spend the latter half of the evening with them for once, didn't I?"

"Right… I merely hadn't realised that it was quite so late already."

"I feel like I should be more excited for this evening than I am. After letting them pierce my ears last year, I'm honestly not sure what they will try to do to me this time, and I'm not all too eager to find out. Especially since they insist on staying up until after midnight."

"Most likely they simply want to spend the evening with you because they care. But you obviously believe that whatever they have planned won't be all too enjoyable for you."

"Would you like to spend an evening with two overly excited fourteen year olds who have been planning this evening for weeks?!" She asked with humour in her voice. She liked the girls, very much so… and she was happy that they cared about her enough to want to spend this evening together. But she also knew how overbearing they could be in situations like this, and how they had a very much different idea of 'fun' than she did herself.

"Actually, I would rather drink poison." Snape replied in absolute neutrality, and only when Robin let out a snort he allowed himself to smirk as well. "Good luck. You have my utmost sympathy."

"Thanks…" She groaned under her breath in exaggeration, then smiled and finally made for the door. "See you tomorrow morning?"

"Obviously. Have a good night despite their efforts, yes?"

"I'll try. However if I don't show up for breakfast tomorrow, you should start being concerned." She turned around to him once more, and a part of her wished she didn't have to go. "Have a good night yourself. Perhaps you could use the opportunity to actually go to bed before 3 in the morning, it might do you good to get some rest after that almost-explosion in class you mentioned."

Snape rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, making Robin smirk as she forced herself to leave the office at last. While she made her way down the hallway towards the dorms, she tried to recall when she'd last parted from him this early. She couldn't actually remember; usually it was way after midnight when they decided to call it a night. Returning to her room this early now just felt oddly wrong. But on the other side, the closer she got to her inevitable fate of whatever sleepover scenario the girls had planned, the more she actually felt happy at the prospect of spending some time with them. Whatever immature things they were going to force her into, she promised herself to try enjoying it at least. Who knew… perhaps they would surprise her.

The very moment she entered her room, she was already welcomed by the smell of tea and chocolate cake, mingling with the always lovely fragrance of a burning fire in the oven in the middle of the room. So far so good! While both girls immediately started complaining that Robin was two minutes late, she moved to drop her bag by her bed, then undid her robes and finally flopped down on her bed and caught a pause in their rambling to bring out her own apology. Her sincerely apologetic expression along with it obviously appeased the girls quickly enough, and they moved on without dwelling on her miniscule delay. Both of them were in their pajamas already, but they didn't give Robin an opportunity to change into hers as they ushered her onto the only empty bed and already pressed a plate of cake and a teacup into her hands, then sat down with her to enjoy their own. Admittedly, tea and cake in the middle of the night was as normal to Robin as reading before bedtime was to others, and thus she enjoyed the start to their little celebration more than she had anticipated. They chatted about nothing particularly important, mostly about the remarkable mishap of a student in their potions class that day, which Robin had already heard about from the other perspective. Getting a full picture now however proved to be highly amusing to her, and together with the cake and tea, she actually felt quite comfortable in the situation. Happy, even. Perhaps she had underestimated the girls' taste in having fun… they weren't kids anymore, after all.

She stayed in that mindset until right after tea, when she realized that they weren't kids anymore indeed, but something far worse. Teenagers. Because as soon as her plate and cup were out of her hands, Cas supplied them all with some odd kind of facial mask, which she plastered thickly onto Robin's face before the latter could even put her hair up. It really was a messy endeavour; sticky, weird smelling, dripping onto her clothes and getting stuck in her hair, which perhaps was more due to Cas' less than expertly way of applying it to Robin's face than because of the substance itself. Meanwhile Jorien decided that it was absolutely necessary to paint Robin's nails, luckily deciding that Robin would probably prefer black over the glittery blue she herself wore, and thus got started on that while Cas was still busy smearing the mask onto every path of Robin's skin she could find. It was a living hell on earth in a way, but Robin just let the girls do and actually found herself so very amused by it that she actually had to try not to laugh out loud. It was such a cliche thing to do, such a stereotypical situation… but she would let them dress her up as much as they wanted tonight, for it was humouring either of them after all. Robin just happened to be amused by it in a different way than the girls.

For quite some time they continued their work on Robin, and finally also on each other in such a practiced manner that it left Robin guessing if they did this regularly. She never was around in the evenings after all, she had no clue what their nights looked like. Before long it was almost midnight, and Robin was sitting on the shared bed again after she had been allowed to wash off the mask as good as possible once the girls had been sure that her nails were dry enough for that by now.

"Say, do you ever miss your best friend these days?" Jorien asked Robin out of the blue, after previously discussing something entirely different. "You said you spent all summer together, so… you must be pretty close."

"Of course I do, I always miss him when he's not around." Robin replied with a small frown, probably sounding as surprised by the inquiry as she felt. "Why the odd question?"

"Oh, you know…" Cas shrugged in feigned indifference. "We were just wondering if we should keep trying to find you a date, or if perhaps you aren't interested in a relationship because you already ARE in a relationship."

Robin's jaw dropped for a second, then her brows furrowed to act over her rising embarrassment. "I can assure you that I'm not in any relationship other than entirely platonic ones, but I'm still not interested in you finding me a date."

"Well, you aren't getting any younger!"

Now Robin just straight out laughed at them. "Guys, I will be eighteen in five minutes, not eighty! You don't have to push me into any kind of relationship just for the sake of it, I'm not interested in that kind of thing."

"But you are interested in something else?" Jorien quirked an eyebrow at her, a smug expression on her face as if this entire conversation had been one big trap for Robin to fall into. And she most definitely just had, going by the grins on both girls' faces.

"Look, this really isn't-..." She tried, but was cut off immediately.

"Oh come on! You can't tell us that in eighteen years of being alive you've never had a crush on someone. Not even YOU despise people that much!" Cas argued, and Jorien nodded her approval to the statement. "This is a girls' night, which obviously is something you haven't done much before, alright, but let me assure you that we are supposed to talk about boys now!"

"I don't know any boys other than my classmates." Robin shrugged. "And they're all idiots not worth talking about."

"But what about your mysterious best friend, then? Tell us more about him. About your summer together."

"I already told you many of the stories of what we experienced in summer. I even told you about some of it twice!"

"Yeah, but you never spoke of what happened between you and him, only about the things that happened to the two of you."

"Nothing happened between us! Why do you even want to know about that? I'm sure you have plenty of stories about Simon to tell… And hasn't one of his friends been oddly nice to you lately, Jorien?" Robin tried to change the topic, feeling more discomfort in the current situation than she had while they had 'beautified' her. Not only was it already difficult as it is to keep her existing friendship with Snape a secret, but the girls' prodding about what exactly she felt for him just made it almost impossible to keep her feelings locked up. Perhaps they didn't understand that… couldn't know that having a crush was entirely different from truly and desperately loving someone. Hell, even that had to be different for everyone, love surely didn't work the same for all people. Either way, Robin didn't want to talk about it. Not with them, and not with anyone else.

"You always say you speak the truth no matter what… and you insist that you never break your promises. So tell us straight out that you're not crushing on anyone, and we'll leave you be." Cas argued back, entirely ignoring Robin's attempt at a change of conversational direction.

"I swear that I do not have a crush on anyone." Robin insisted seriously, locking gazes with both girls respectively. "And I would very much appreciate it if we could use the one minute left before my birthday to talk about something else now."

"Fine." Cas sighed sadly. "I believe you. Too bad though, crushes are fun. I honestly don't understand why nobody ever asks you out, you're amazing."

"Change of topic, idiot!" Jorien hissed at her friend and nudged her in the side. "It won't do to make her feel unloved!"

"Oh, I feel very loved. You painted my nails and smeared goo on my face, what more could I want?" Robin gave them a teasing half smile, and the girls couldn't help giggling in return. "And I really appreciate the efforts you made to make this evening a small celebration. Thank you."

"Oh, but it's not even over yet!" Cas grinned, and scrambled off the bed, almost tripping over the way too long tracksuit bottoms she had probably borrowed (or stolen) from Simon. Poor boy… Cas really was a handful, but as far as Robin could tell, he really did like her a lot, and he was absolutely lovely to her. The thought made her smile, just when Cas jumped back onto the bed with a surprisingly large box.

Just in time, the clock hit midnight and both Cas and Jorien started singing a desperately off-key but very much heartfelt happy birthday, which made Robin smile even more. Yeah, she did feel loved indeed.

"Happy birthday, you old person!" Cas practically squealed at her, then dropped the box on the bed and wrapped Robin into a tight hug to which Jorien followed, and both girls together squeezed all air out of Robin's lungs, which she happily let happen.

"Happy birthday Robin." Jorien added in barely audible words that were muffled by Robin's blouse.

"Thank you guys. You really got me to start liking birthdays." She smiled, then frowned a little as the two still wouldn't let go of her. "You're not trying to suffocate me, are you? I'd like to make it to nineteen as well."

"Oh, sorry." Cas said, and both finally let go of Robin to sit back down in front of her. "It's just… this is your last birthday we're celebrating together like this. And we want you to remember it in the future."

"I most definitely will, don't worry."

"Good! But to help you with that nonetheless, we got you a different gift this year. Not jewelry for once." Jorien explained, while she handed Robin the large box in an almost festive gesture. "So you will remember us."

Robin already felt sad before she opened the box. It was true, this was her last birthday they would celebrate together. Or was it? "Just because it's my last year doesn't mean we won't see each other again afterwards, you know that, right?" She asked even before she opened the box. This was supposed to be a cheerful occasion, not one filled with sadness about a future that wasn't as depressing as they likely made it out to be in their heads. "Perhaps we can't celebrate my birthday for a while, but you won't be in school forever either. And there's no rule saying that I can't come and visit you guys on Hogsmeade weekends."

"That's true…" Cas sighed, and her smile quickly lost the sadness to it. "But right now you're still here in the first place, and you're the birthday girl. So open the present already!"

Rolling her eyes for show, Robin still obliged and took a peek first before opening the lid entirely at last. Inside, underneath a layer of colourful paper, lay a beautiful wooden picture frame that held a moving photograph of her little group of people. Jorien, Cas, Simon, his two friends who Robin had actually almost grown somewhat fond of at this point, and also Robin herself right in the middle. They were all seated in the great hall on both sides of the table, smiling into the camera.

"I remember this…" Robin heard herself saying in astonishment. "A classmate of theirs… what was her name again…"

"Patricia." Cas was quick to reply, and Robin's smile widened.

"Right… She asked if she could take a picture of us because we looked so happy. That was just recently, in the second week of term, wasn't it?"

"Yep. It actually was Simon's idea to give this to you as a gift." Cas went on to explain. "He got Patricia to make a copy of it for him, and Jorien and I got the frame."

"Thank you, honestly, this is… wow."

"We actually managed to leave you short for words for once, hell yeah!" Cas laughed, giving Jorien a high-five. "It's probably not the most extraordinary present, but-..."

"It's perfect." Robin was quick to interrupt. "There hardly are any pictures of me as an adult, other than those in the paper, and none at all of my friends. Nobody ever bothered taking a picture with me, least of all frame one with me in it, and I honestly love it more than anything else you could've given to me."

"You're most welcome." Jorien replied with a smile. "But a third of the effort was Simon's, don't forget that."

"I'll thank him too, first thing tomorrow morning. But now we should probably call it a night, it's gonna be a long Friday for you guys and I don't want you to lose any more sleep over me."

"Yes, mom." Jorien rolled her eyes with a snort. "Morning's gonna come no matter when we go to bed, you know. But Morgan's announced a test for tomorrow, so we probably should go to bed indeed."

"Great!" Cas clapped her hands, grinning. "Now that we're talking about tomorrow morning, or rather… today's morning anyway, I have something fun to tell you guys!"

"There's something fun you haven't told me about yet?!" Jorien fake-protested with a glare at Cas, while Robin moved off the shared bed and back towards her own, where she placed the picture frame on her nightstand.

"Chill, I was gonna wait for you to see it yourself, but it's just too funny not to tell you." Cas giggled to herself, and Robin frowned when she sat back down with the girls. When Cas found something funny it was usually at the expense of others, and that always should make one weary at least.

"Out with it now!" Jorien nudged her friend in the side to stop her from giggling, while Cas almost rolled off the bed just laughing to herself. "C'mon, don't do this to us!"

"Yes, fine…" Cas sighed, as she tried to regain some composure. "So you know how Parker is friends with Dave, and Dave is Martin's friend, and Martin is friends with Gideon."

"Get to the bloody point already!" Jorien groaned, and the only thing Robin had understood was Gideon's name, who was one of Simon's friends. The one who didn't fancy Jorien; that one was Michael.

"I was about to!" Cas rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Simon told me that Parker and his friends are setting up this practical joke for tomorrow morning, and it's going to be absolutely hilarious!"

"What's it about?"

"They will put salt into the tea and coffee for the head table, and charm it so that people will only taste it two seconds after drinking it!" Cas was back to giggling to herself. "Just imagine, all the professors spitting out their drinks!"

"That's horrible!" Robin replied instinctively.

"That's hilarious!" Jorien laughed at the same time, and all three girls looked at each other for a moment of hesitation.

"I think it's going to be bloody hilarious indeed." Cas finally sighed, and made her way over to her own bed at last. "Our entire class could need the laugh before Morgan's stupid test, and I think he's set one for the sixth year NEWT class for the afternoon, too. But Simon isn't taking defense classes anymore, so I don't particularly care."

"Yeah… it's gonna be great." Jorien smiled and made for her bed as well. "Especially since nobody can hold us accountable for it."

Robin stayed sitting on the empty bed for a moment longer and didn't say anything at all. Practical jokes weren't her thing in general, but this one just seemed absolutely childish and unnecessary. Sure, it wouldn't do any harm either, but still… knowing about it now left her in a position she didn't want to be in. She could tell Snape about it and prevent him from getting pranked, but on the flipside that meant she would betray the girls, in a way. And it would be painfully obvious that she had been the one talking, at least to Jorien and Cas and Simon. For a moment, Robin felt angry with Cas for putting her into this situation in the first place. Then again, the girl hadn't meant any harm, and probably only wanted to share something she thought would humour her friends. But geez, couldn't they have done this any other day?! This kind of predicament wasn't such a great start to her birthday…

"Robin? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just… thinking." She replied evasively and finally snapped out of her head, only to see the girls already all settled into their beds. "I think I'll take a shower before going to sleep, some of that goo is still stuck in my hair. I'll be quiet when I come back, as always. Don't wait up for me."

"Alright." Cas sighed softly, and even as Robin got up and made her way to her own bed, she could see the girl smiling. "You're gonna have an awesome birthday, Robin. Don't worry."

Robin returned a quiet hum, not wanting to lie nor to spoil their enjoyment of this complot, and then she quickly gathered her things to make for the showers. Once alone in the dark bathrooms, she first tried to scrub the goo out of her blouse so that she could wear it again tomorrow without any pinkish stains, and once that was accomplished half manually and half magically, she finally went to scrub the goo off herself under the steady stream of hot water in the shower. Really, as soothing as the water was, as soothing as the night was, she still felt torn about the situation with the practical joke. Why, just WHY did that one piece of information have to put an otherwise very entertaining night on the line like that?! If she was honest with herself, Robin knew what she was going to do. But she still felt bad about it nonetheless. Then again, she shouldn't! It was her birthday and besides that she was very much in the right to spare her best friend from whatever kind of agony he was facing unknowingly. Telling him was the right thing to do.

Once she was cleaned up and dry again, she put on her pajamas and twisted her still wet hair up into a bun to fix it with her wand like she did so often by now. Then she grabbed her things and was on her way back to her room, still in full determination that she would find Snape before breakfast tomorrow and warn him of the impending doom at the head table. But after she had silently stored away all her items and taken a seat on her bed, that plan of action was shaken with a start.

"Robin?" Jorien's whisper carried over to her so very quietly that she barely even heard it in the first place.

"Huh?"

"Can… can we talk? While Cas is sleeping."

"Yeah, of course." Robin was quick to reply, frowning to herself however as she motioned to the door before stepping out into the hallway herself, with Jorien following two seconds later. Only once the door was closed entirely, the girl came straight to the point.

"I don't want that prank to be played, Robin…" She said in a quiet voice for they still could be overheard, especially out in the dorm hallway at one o'clock at night. "And I know you don't either."

"You seemed to be quite fond of the idea just an hour ago…"

"I certainly don't need to tell you out of all people what an act is." Jorien rolled her eyes, but the almost pleading expression still remained predominant on her face. "Sometimes getting along with people just requires adaption, and if it's not gonna be sincere, then an act will still do."

"Consider me impressed in that case." Robin raised her eyebrows at the girl in surprise for a moment, then came back to the problem at hand. "But why do you tell me this?"

"I know there is some weird understanding between you and Professor Snape… and I'm fairly sure you will want to warn him in advance, probably tomorrow morning. You see, I would like to spare Professor McGonagall the unpleasant experience, too, if I can… I really like her."

"Right… I remember that." Robin sighed under her breath, and then was back to frowning to herself. "And yes, I'm going to tell Snape about it tomorrow morning. Would you like me to tell McGonagall as well? I'm sure I can find her before breakfast."

"See, there exactly is the issue. You can't tell anyone before breakfast tomorrow."

"You can't talk me out of it, I-..."

"I'm not trying to talk you out of it, Robin! I'm trying to tell you that you literally will not be able to talk to Snape before breakfast tomorrow, because there's this plan that Cas and Simon and I have made, because of your birthday, and we will be around you at all times before the meal. You understand what I mean?"

"You mean I won't have an opportunity to tell him without Cas and Simon knowing what I did."

"Precisely." Jorien nodded, then sighed. "I know you can do things like this… And you've done things like this before…"

"Out with it."

"You have to stop that prank. Please… I know you can do impossible things, and I know you have way more to say in this place than anyone else I know."

"I don't have anything to say around here, Jorien. I wish I did, and I wish I could just call that Parker kid out without any evidence, but if I'll be caught up in you guys' scheme from my waking point tomorrow, I don't see how I could prevent it from happening without putting a serious strain on my relationship with Cas, and on hers with Simon."

"I know it's complicated… But that's why I need you to take care of it!" Jorien almost looked like she might start crying any moment now, and honestly Robin found herself surprised by how much the girl seemed to care about her favourite professor. It wasn't something she had seen in anyone but herself before now. "Please, Robin… I know it's silly to be so upset about it, but I know that letting it happen would make you as unhappy as it makes me. That's why I told you that we have these plans for the time before breakfast. Maybe play surprised at least when we tell you about it again tomorrow morning."

"Of course…" Robin nodded, then sighed, and her mind was already working on a solution. "I'll do what I can to stop the prank, okay?"

"Yes! Thank you!" Jorien let out a long breath in obvious relief, then tired a half smile. "I mean, at least you can be sure that Snape is still up at this time of night, huh? You usually return from your work with him way later than this."

"Yeah…" Robin replied absentmindedly, tracing the scar on her neck with her fingers as she frowned ahead at the hallway. Perhaps it really wasn't the worst idea to find Snape now and save him from the joke at least, if she already couldn't stop the entire thing; Jorien was right when she said that one o'clock at night was still early for them. He certainly wouldn't mind another brief visit from her even at this time, especially if it was to his own advantage. And if Robin bargained correctly, she could get him to warn McGonagall in the morning indeed, which would keep her ends with Jorien sealed. It wasn't even such a big deal now that she thought about it, and a decent solution to the problem. Why hadn't she thought about that right from the start?

"Earth to Robin!" Jorien said in that moment, drawing Robin out of her freeze even at the quiet sound. "You're daydreaming again."

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about why I was once again being weird and trying to make things more complicated than they are."

"It's just who you are. But it always ends in something great, so don't worry about it. I should probably go back to bed now though, if I don't want to give myself away entirely tomorrow. You won't tell Cas that I actually hate this stupid joke, will you?"

"Of course not. I promise."

"Thanks…" Jorien sighed, then opened the door and waited for Robin to go in first, which however she didn't.

"You go to bed, I'll deal with the prank." Robin whispered to her, giving her an encouraging smile. "Goodnight."

"Night… And Robin? I love that you're weird, and so does Cas. Don't ever change that."

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[moving-accounts-uwu]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel 

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words 

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general. 

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated. 

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you. 

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention. 

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?" 

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face. 

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda. 

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together. 

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship. 

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully. 

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready. 

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator. 

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely. 

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll." 

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge. 

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair. 

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

[plush-anon]

You worked at joanns? 😍 dream job

In all fairness, a large part (and I do mean a LARGE part) of why I enjoyed working at Joanns were the managers.

The store manager was a guy named Richard, one of maybe two or three men who worked there total, and this man was practically a saint as far as retail goes.

This was a man who would, with no hesitation, get on the floor to help customers, or hop on the registers to check customers' purchases out, or pop on to the cutting counter to cut fabric. He remembered the names of regulars, would chat and smile while getting shit done, and was the type of guy to speak slowly and softly when we had shitstains explode at us measly peons for not giving them the full cost of an item back in a return (ex $200) when they used a coupon to purchase an item to begin with and only paid a portion of the cost (ex. $150). No joke, this actually happened to me on Black Friday with a man who stood at about 6 foot with a crewcut and a snarl (the military Karen, if you would)

Richard, of course, stood at about 6 foot 5 inches, and reminded me of a ginger grizzly bear in some ways. Very few customers continued to be assholes when they asked to speak to the manager and Richard came over, smiling wide. He encouraged us to chat with the customers while we worked the cutting counter - it was a good way to learn about what they were making, encouraged general conversation and lent itself to a better environment for everyone, worker and customer alike, so we weren't just awkwardly standing in silence the whole time.

The assistant store manager (aka his second in command - we had two other assistant managers, but she wielded more power than both of them) was Farrah, and she was basically Cool Wine Aunt, but with weed. She was open about smoking it (but not in a pressure-the-underlings kind of way, but more of a 'yeah, it calms me down' kind of way) but never on the clock, and was just really chill in general. She was also a 'jump on the registers' type of manager, and on occasion would take the closing staff out to get a drink from the texmex place next to us in the shopping center, and cover one for each of us - particularly during the Holiday Clusterfuck of October, November, and December (their Frozen Kahlua Mudlslide was my alcoholic drink of choice - they also had these spicy chicken strips that were amazing with it, but I digress).

Both of them were amazing people who would support and back us up without hesitation (if they weren't dealing with corporate or stock trucks coming in), and both routinely worked 15 to 20 hours UNPAID overtime during the Holiday Clusterfuck so that we the underlings could get more hours without Corporate jumping up our ass about going over budget.

They were also refreshingly upfront in our monthly meetings about profits and meeting them, as well as why company policy was the way it was, and how to work within the boundaries so we got more hours. One of my favorite moments was when they said the fabric sales essentially covered their own cost (production and delivery); the rest of the cheap crap in the store was what covered our paycheck and electricity, so hawk it as much as you can if you want extra in the bank (paraphrasing here, but that's not that far off what they actually said tbh).

With some Karen-y exceptions, the customers were honestly pretty chill. There were two women from a nearby church who bought well over 200 yards of cut fleece to make no-sew fleece blankets for children and the poor in December (it took forever to do, but they were so cheerful about it and told some funny anecdotes in between, kept the counter clear as soon as they were cut, etc. Took them three carts to haul everything to the register XD).

There was the slew of quilters making everything from baby blankets to anniversary gifts to quilts for their grandkids attending the local university that they could wear to football games in the colder weather, while still showing team pride. They always bought quarters and eighths and the end of the bolt for half price, digging thru our remnants bin for something they might have missed they could get for half price. They always talked about what they were working on, and spoke in great detail on their kids or cousins or niblings or grandkids. I saw so many pictures on phones, in wallets, and they loved them to absolute pieces.

There were cosplayers making their first costume to comicon, halloween goers trying their hand at making their own outfits, and a few furries making custom suits for order or just updating their own personal outfit. There were the usual school and church Christmas plays that needed costumes, and folks making custom table runners and place settings for family holiday meals.

One notable young man bought out 30+ yards of our 65" inch wide bolt felt for JEWELRY projects he was making as a part of his business and as a part of his art program (you can major in art with a concentration in jewelry making, and he was using it for that). He didn't leave a card, but the pictures he showed us were STUNNING.

We had a few elderly mothers come in with their daughters, to pick out fabrics so they could make their own wedding dresses, or quinceanera outfits, or veils; they showed us the patterns they had, or the pictures they were basing the designs off of, and all of them were STUNNING. (One came back in with the finished dress in the bag, this intricately beaded poofy dress that had to have taken days, hot pink and shiny).

We had local restaurant owners pop in for re-upholstery projects and curtains and vinyl; same with teachers and deck dads and furniture restoration workers that would gush about the design, what they had planned. Some would bicker with their spouses on the pattern, but it felt good-natured on the whole.

We had some elderly men come in to peer over our sewing machines - "How much it run for? My wife's birthday is coming up and her old machine's about done, and I want to surprise her. She had a Singer, but she hates the electronic screens on some of these newer ones, they hurt her eyes." - and moms coming in to sew some custom bed sheets for their kids - "My son really likes the new My Little Pony show, but he's a little shy about it. Do you think the blue's okay? Only he like yellow more, but they don't have any back there and he doesn't MIND blue really but - Actually scratch that, how wide is the fabric? My pattern says it needs to be at LEAST 22 inches wide, does it say on the box?" - and people coming up with some WILD craft ideas that were always a delight to hear them gush about - "So this MAY seem crazy, but I can turn these plastic pumpkin trick-or-treat pails into SNOWMEN heads with felt like this. We fill them with treats for the kids since we don't have a fireplace and they like it fine, but someone said I should sell these on Etsy and people really like them! But I've run out of pumpkins, and you have NO idea how happy I am that you guys still have some left."

The group we had to work with was also pretty crafty; a few were chronic call-outs, some a bit lazy, some perpetually done-with-this-nonsense, but we were mostly on the same page on shift, and all of us were crafty as heck. The employee discount was a blessing AND a curse, lemme tell you.

Stock was the best part, for me. Hours before the store opened at 9 AM, we would rip open the boxes and stuff everything onto the shelves, organizing anything the closing shift missed the night before along the way, updating new stickers or shuffling pegs over for new product arrangement, etc. We could listen to music or podcasts as we worked, and I ended up impressing some of them bc of how fast I tore through everything some mornings (the music definitely helped out there).

I was actually about to be promoted to assistant manager after 6 months, but then I got my job with the university, and they had federal health benefits AND dental, so... yeah, no contest there. Richard actually laughed when I told him I'd been hired at the university and was giving my two week notice, since it meant he didn't have to do the slew of paperwork that accompanied new assistant manager hires. He congratulated me on the job, especially the health benefits - he said that was a perk worth leaving any job here for. I nearly cried with relief that he wasn't mad.

He and Farrah chipped in and got me a small music box that plays Man of La Mancha's Dream the Impossible Dream on my last day. It still sits on my desk at work.

It was honestly my favorite retail job out of the bunch I've suffered through. Surprising at first, since I initially received a rejection email bare HOURS after my interview with Farrah, but about a month later (as I trawled endlessly through interview after interview, desperate for anything those first few months ), I got a call back from them asking if I was still interested (which I was, bc hey a job!). They remembered me specifically bc I had missed my bus to the interview, called ahead to let them know I would be late, then walked the whole way there in the rain to get there. (It was only about a mile and a half away, so not a terrible journey, but flooding is an issue in our flat-ass city; I looked like a drenched afghan hound holding a useless umbrella, so enjoy that imagery).

They were particularly impressed by the calling-ahead part.

Unfortunately, both of them ended up moving on to different paths over the year after I left - apparently they had been friends with benefits (? I say hesitantly, since I ran into one of my coworkers at an art show later on and she spilled the beans there - she was a bit flighty in nature though, and got caught up in gossip a LOT, so who knows. Lovely brocade custom projects though), and his ex girlfriend had called corporate on them and got both fired.

I think Farrah came back some time later, but the damage was done after that - the new manager came in and operated SOLELY to corporate policy. A LOT went to pieces in terms of store cleanliness, order, and general camaraderie after that - the new fabric counter folks look and sound dead inside, and barely interact with customers (not even a 'whatcha making' in passing, which is kind of sad - the stories I got helped to pass the time, and kept me from using up all of my Set Conversation Phrases for customers that actually WOULD leave us standing in silence). Corporate also stopped some of the smaller store policies that made our job easier and gave the customers a little something extra (the 'end-of-the-bolt' discount - if, after the customer orders say, 2 yards of fabric on the bolt, and there's say, a half yard "remnant" left on the bolt, we can sell them the remnant for half-price. A LOT of quilters LOVED this, and we did too, since it saved us from filling out the remnant tag and printing a sticker later on).

Just goes to show how important good management is in a business; especially when it can kick a store previously part of the top 50 stores in the NATION (while being a medium store at that - smaller place, NOT Hobby Lobby size like the Large stores) to something much less pleasant. I could be rose-goggling the situation thought - retail is still retail, no matter how nice some aspects are - but it still sticks with me as to how good he experience was even taking into account that it WAS minimum wage retail.

Food for thought, lads, food for thought.

[bnhabadass]

BNHA Halloween Day 4 - Chilly Evening

@bnha-halloween2019​ | Day [4]: [Chilly Evening] / [Todoroki x Reader] | [PG] | [Pro Hero AU]

“A yoga instructor?” Todoroki asked. It had become a tradition for him and Yaoyorozu to grab coffee, or in her case a cup of tea, every morning before they went in for work. Their hero agencies were located very close to one another making Yaomomo one of the few people Todoroki kept in close contact with after high school.

“Yes Uraraka suggested I hire a yoga instructor at my agency to be a meditative presence for my employees. Turns out she was right. Having a small break to stretch and do those exercises has really helped out my employees. They’re more efficient when fighting villains now and my interns seem to be enjoying the workplace more.”

“It’s that effective?” Todoroki asked, taking a sip of his latte. He had never thought to hire someone to coach other pro heros on how to exercise. It almost seemed counter intuitive.

“I’d say so.” The pro in front of him took a short pause in order to sip her tea. She sighed, smiling as the warm beverage entered her body. “You should try it, Todoroki. I think your employees will really benefit from it.”

Maybe he’d give it a try. His employees had been slacking off lately, so maybe the sort of discipline one gets from a yoga class would help with that issue.

When he got to work the first thing he told his assistant was to find a yoga instructor looking for work. He was not expecting there to be a job interview conducted that day and for the person to be hired on the spot. Being the busy person that he was he didn’t actually have time to meet his newest employee, but he was looking forward to meeting them for their first day of work.

“You managed to find one that fast?” Yaoyorozu asked the next morning.

“It’s as if they didn’t try very hard to find one. I trust my assistant, though.” Todoroki looked down at his thumbs as he spoke, leaving his coffee untouched.

Momo looked at him conspicuously and then down at the beverage in his hands. Something was on his mind that he clearly didn’t want to say. “It’ll get cold if you don’t drink it soon,” she pointed out.

“I’ll just heat it up myself.”

Something was clearly on Todoroki’s mind. Nerves, perhaps, for meeting his newest employee? Momo decided to leave it alone. Somehow she knew how it would all turn out, but that was for Todoroki to discover himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, about to turn the corner as they walked down the street. “Let me know how it goes.”

And then Todoroki was left alone with a nervous stomach. Walking into his agency, he asked the kid typing away at the front desk if the new instructor was in yet.

“Good morning, Shoto,” the boy said. Todoroki started regretting using his first name as his hero ailies once he went pro. “Yes the new instructor is in training room two. She came in about half an hour ago.”

That early. Wow. Todoroki had no doubt that his assistant picked a good one. He walked across the hall to where the training rooms were. Training room two was the size of a small dance studio. It was less used for training quirks and more for stretching. Inside he saw a young woman wearing black yoga pants and a dark grey tank top. You were set perfectly still in a… head stand? Todoroki cleared his throat and you gracefully descended out of the position. You turned around and opened your bright eyes at him. A smile made its way onto your lips

“Shoto!” you said. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you today.”

He blushed as you called him by his first name, but he had to remind himself that it’s also his hero ailies, and that it means nothing.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. “(L/n),” you said. He shook it and smiled at you.

That was the only interaction the two of you had for the first week. Todoroki would watch from afar as you taught two or three classes daily depending on what villainous activity was happening that day. You even helped some of his interns with their form while they were training. Sometimes he would come back from patrolling to see you meditating in the training room and he would just watch you sit there, breathing in and out. It was mesmerizing for him.

“Why don’t you sit in on one of her classes?” Momo asked. She sipped her tea delicately and patted her mouth dry with a napkin.

“Would that be appropriate?”

“It’s your agency, Todoroki. Take advantage of the services you provide.”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking into the cup of black coffee he held. He wasn’t in the mood for his usual latte. “I mean do I even have time to be taking a yoga class?”

Momo smirked. “Based on what you’ve told me you have plenty of time to stare at her.”

Todoroki shot her a dirty look from the rim of his mug. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll take a class with her.”

That day, around two in the afternoon, you sat in class, talking to a few of Shoto interns who had taken a liking to your teaching. Todoroki poked his head in the room and stood in the doorway, just watching you. It took a minute, but you looked up and smiled at him.

“I didn’t expect you’d be joining us today, Shoto,” you said.

Everyone watched in awe as Todoroki walked over to the rolled up stack of yoga mats and grabbed one off the top. “I thought I’d give it a try,” he said. “Creati seems to think highly of it and apparently so do my interns.”

You smiled at him. “Now then. It looks like we’re all here. Let’s begin.”

Todoroki quite enjoyed the class. He left almost feeling rejuvenated. It explains why he came back the next day, and the day after that, and every day at two pm for the rest of the week. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t help his technique, too. He definitely saw a difference when on patrol.

“I think I’m addicted,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and a bite out of the crumb cake he had ordered.

Momo hadn’t actually seen him eat in a very long time, but she was happy to see him putting real food into his system for once. “To yoga or to (L/n)?” she asked.

He didn’t react like she thought he would. Todoroki was never one to argue or fight against a close friend, but he didn’t even shoot her a dirty look this time. “I don’t know,” he finally said after a few seconds of just chewing the crumb cake.

Momo didn’t expect him to admit it so soon. He was clearly enamoured with you and your self discipline. She thought yoga would be good for him, as he had been under quite a bit of stress lately. She didn’t, however, expect him to fall for the woman teaching it.

Todoroki didn’t show up for the two pm class that day, or the one after that. He did go to the six pm class the next day, however.

“Long day at work?” You asked, sitting cross legged on your yoga mat sipping a cup of tea.

“Precisely,” Todoroki said. He loved how you didn’t talk to him like he was one of the top three heros. You talked to him as if he was more or less an aquanitence; like he was someone you thought highly of but didn’t idolize.

Not many people went to your evening class. In fact, most people were off work by that point. So it was just the two of you. Shoto told you to take your time with your cup of tea and that he would wait.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were a bit nervous teaching a class that was just Shoto. He was very kind and you were happy to be working with him, but you liked him almost too much, it seemed. You had told yourself to keep a professional relationship with everyone you work with. Of course you wanted to get to know your co workers, but working with pro heros was a whole new level of working. They were on a completely different level than you.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

Shoto gave you a quick nod and you jumped up. “Alright then. Let’s begin.”

The class went well. You thought it would be uncomfortable, being alone with one of the heroes you idolize, but it was actually really nice.

“Are you walking to the station?” he asked after class. You tossed him a rolled up towel and he patted down his face. He would have never imagined becoming this sweaty after a yoga class of all things.

“Yeah,” you said, taking a towel for yourself. “I ride the eleven.”

He gave a soft smile and nodded. “I’ll walk you there.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up but you weren’t too worried about him noticing. You had just been working out after all. “Thank you.”

The brisk October air hit you like a sharp kitchen knife as you walked outside. You remember setting a jacket on the chair in your living room as a reminder not to forget it. But low and behold here you were wearing nothing but yoga pants and a thin tank top. Why were you always so forgetful?

“I can’t believe I forgot a jacket,” you said. “It’s cold!”

You weren’t expecting Shoto to give you his, because why would he? It’s his jacket after all. But when you saw him shrug it off of his shoulders your mind went in every direction, trying to find every possible reason for him to do that.

“Here,” he said. “You probably need this more than I do.”

“No I couldn’t,” you said. He was being so kind already walking you to the station. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll just use my quirk.”

He really was being too kind.

Todoroki ushered you over to the sidewalk and the two of you began chatting. Questions like “what got you into yoga?” and “why did you decide to become a hero?” popped up here and there. But mostly he was thinking about how cute he looked bundled up in his jacket. The sleeves were too long on you so you bunched them up in your hands as mittens. You were too precious for this world.

You both came to a slow stop as you had reached the station. “Thank you for walking me,” you said.

“It’s no problem.” Todoroki absentmindedly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. It was almost too much.

Kiss me, you thought. Please Shoto just kiss me now in front of everyone. Make the world know that I belong to one of the world’s greatest heroes.

He gently grabbed one of your hands, pushing up the sleeve with a finger or two. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, gently kissing your knuckles which sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded and watched as he started walking away. “Wait Shoto!” you yelled.

He turned around and looked at you.

“Your jacket.” You started fumbling with the zipper but your hands were shaking. They felt like they weren’t even your own.

“It’s alright,” he said. The train pulled up behind you. “I’ll get it back tomorrow. Or, you know, whenever.” He rubbed the back of his neck and held a hand up, bidding adieu.

You smiled like a giddy child tasting candy for the first time. You zipped the jacket up high and buried your face into the neck of it. You stayed like that during the entire train ride, taking in his scent.

Todoroki had made it out of the station and let out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding. He grabbed his phone and began composing a long text to Momo. He read it once before deleting it, wrote out another and deleted that too. He finally decided that the long message was the wrote route to go. He left it off very short and sweet.

“Thank you.”

[queenmorgawse]

transmigration for dummies

chapter three. mdzs scum villain au. read on ao3 + end notes.  credit to @lee-luca, esp as another bit of the comic is mentioned here.  previous | first | next 

One hour, thirty minutes and two hundred rules into his punishment, Jingyi is as bored as he’s ever been in this life. To top it all off, the System isn’t responding to any of his pleas for company, only responding with oops ): something went wrong when he tries to ping it. Back home, this is about when he would have given up on homework and started scrolling through his Twitter feed instead, but there’s not much he can do without his phone.

Ugh, he’d kill for one of these crappy McDonalds games. Even a Kinder toy would make him happy right now. Instead, he doodles on his torn-up first drafts, on which the ink made blots from his clumsy first attempts to imitate the original text’s elegant calligraphy.

He silently adds bic pens to the ever-increasing list of modern appliances he misses.

When badly-drawn stickmen get boring as well, he starts to think about the original Lan Jingyi in his life. Maybe that’s how it works, after all. Mom sure would love someone who’d actually go to bed early when she tells him to. On the other hand, once he got over the initial shock of modern Jingyi’s life, he’d probably find it pretty dull. High school isn’t about to compare to flying swords and cultivation, that’s for sure.  

Opposite him, Sizhui is bent over his own stack of scrolls, poring over rows and rows of tiny characters and absent-mindedly running his fingers along the lines. From the way he hums to himself when he thinks Jingyi is too busy copying to care, he guesses they’re music sheets of some kind. Unlike Jingyi, he looks like he’s actually engrossed in what he’s doing.

Too bad. Jingyi’s reached that point of boredom at which he needs to talk to someone or else he’ll implode. ( Still, he promises himself he’ll stop if Sizhui shows even a hint of genuine annoyance. )

“Hey, Lan Sizhui ⎯ can I call you just Sizhui? Um, sorry I got you stuck here.”

To his relief, the other doesn’t look irritated, just surprised. “Sizhui is fine,” he ventures after a few seconds. A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good. I was afraid you were still mad me, you’ve been so awkward all day...”

Wait, what? Who’s angry at you? Someone who kicks kittens for fun, probably.

Oh right, me. Maybe he’s the one whose brain needs a reboot. How does he explain that it’s not him who’s mad? Hell, he doesn’t even know what the original is supposed to be mad about. For some reason, it feels weird to ask, just because it seems important enough that admitting he forgot would be insulting.

“Anyway,” Sizhui continues after coughing into his sleeve, “it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize to me. I’ve got to go over these before tomorrow’s lesson anyway, I might as well do it here.”

“Inquiry?” Jingyi ventures, maybe-maybe-not because it’s the only title he clearly remembers from the ones canon mentioned.

“Oh, no. Asking very specific questions is still a bit out of my reach, but Fa...Hanguang-jun wrote down a list of phrases for me, so we’re going to try them tomorrow.” His face softens at the mention of Lan Wangji. If this was a fic, this would be when Jingyi keels over and presses his face into a pillow for a little while.   

The chat devolves into musical cultivation. Jingyi muddles his way through it the best he can, feeling like he’s bullshitting an essay out loud, but Sizhui doesn’t seem to find his vague answers all that off-putting. He still pointedly glances down at the stack of unfinished notes on the table from time to time, but since Jingyi’s calligraphy has been getting worse and worse the less attention he pays to it, maybe it’s for the better.   

When dinner time rolls around, they eat their bowls sitting on the steps leading up to the Library Pavilion, after Sizhui rightfully points out Lan Qiren would have their skins if they spilled even a drop of sauce on the sect’s precious texts. Gradually, Jingyi feels himself relax.

“So, are we chill?” he asks between two mouthfuls of rice.

Sizhui just stares at him.

Right. No slang. “...I mean, we’re doing good, right? We’re friends?”

Something complicated passes over Sizhui’s expression. It’s too fleeting for him to catch more than a glimpse of it, especially as it’s overridden by his usual calm smile before Jingyi can shove another rice ball into his mouth, but he could swear the other winced.

Well, ouch. It must show on his face, because Sizhui suddenly looks alarmed and adds : “Yes, yes, we are!” Another smile. This time, Jingyi can definitely see the strain. “We’re friends. You don’t have to doubt that.”

“Oh. Great!” Jingyi resists the urge to reach out and gently punch his shoulder. Who knows how it’d be perceived. “We’re gonna spend a lot of time together, if I’ve got to keep copying rules, so...I wanted to make sure.”

【OOC behavior detected : contradiction of backstory despite hints : -20 points. Current balance : 65 points. 】

Shut up! I want him to like me!

“We’re friends,” Sizhui repeats one last time, like he’s trying to convince himself. Then he reaches for Jingyi’s shoulder and gives his robes a tug. “We should get back in there. Two more hours before curfew, you can still get a few lines in. I won’t distract you.”

“Ugh.”

Jingyi makes a face. Sizhui laughs, and the tension from earlier dissolves. “Come on. The more you get done, the faster it’ll be over.”

-

It turns out they’re both severely underestimating the number of rules Jingyi can break without realizing, and therefore the amount of time they’ll be spending here.

Despite these setbacks, over the course of the next handful of weeks, Jingyi adapts to his new life the best he can. He finds out, with much relief, that even though he can’t access the original’s knowledge and memories, training since childhood pays off even after a body swap. He doesn’t have to think too hard about sparring, just keep a firm grip on his sword, and his muscles can apparently do the rest with minimal effort on his part.

It only works with the actual fighting, though. After going to bed feeling sore all over for a week straight, Jingyi gives up and gives the cold springs a shot. It freezes his limbs off, but the ache gets better after that. It even gets him about a dozen points, which he adds to the rest, gained through menial tasks across the Cloud Recesses and some well-timed mischief.

He also likes to think he gets some progress done with step one of his grand plan to survive this novel. There’s no undoing years of being a pain in everyone’s ass in a matter of weeks, but Jingyi still gives it his best shot - peppered with tasteful cursing at the System when it deducts points for actually following the rules or, you know, not being a dick to everyone he talks to. As a result, he goes from mostly being avoided by the other disciples to tolerated, even if no one but Sizhui goes out of their way to talk to him or invite him to join in on...whatever fun they have.

Jingyi doubts he’s missing out on much, at least where the Lans are concerned. But rumor has it some of the guest disciples snuck out into Caiyi to try some of the local wine, and he’s jealous of that, which is kind of irrational. He doesn’t even like the taste of wine that much, and besides, that may be too much of an infraction for a raised Lan, however prone to rule-breaking said Lan is supposed to be.

( He really can’t afford to slip up again. When he dared chop a solid forty centimeters off his hair after struggling to run a comb through it for the fifth time that week, the System’s alarm blared so loud he almost had an out of body experience. He’d felt the hundred points shaved off his score, though, even if he’d managed to negotiate half of them back. That was the spiritual equivalent of having a car zoom past right as you were about to cross the street, and Jingyi’s in no hurry to do it again...but with that said, it feels great not to have to deal with a bird’s nest every time he wakes up. )

-

Of course, he can’t just get comfortable with his new daily routine. Something has to happen. This time, said something takes the shape of a summon from Teacher Lan. Jingyi drags his feet over from the Library Pavilion and away from his sixth copy of Gusu Lan rules. His wrist is still complaining every time he bends it a little too far. Fuck corpse powder, it’s carpal tunnel that’s going to do him in.

Speaking of copies, maybe he shouldn’t slump this much. He’s fairly sure there’s a rule for that somewhere in the two thousand and nineties.

Given the circumstances, Jingyi fully expects another lecture from Lan Qiren the moment he sets foot in the communal hall, but quickly readjusts his expectations when he spots the small crowd of disciples gathered around their teacher. Most of them are familiar faces by now, except for the girls, who for some reason live in a completely different part of the Cloud Recesses. Still, he recognizes Lan Fan, the shimei who looks like she could bite your head off but actually gave him some pretty helpful tips on sword stances the other day, Tao Ming, the boy who’d seemed vaguely suspicious of him that first day, and of course, Sizhui in the forefront.

Lan Qiren narrows his eyes at him as he hastily joins the rest of the group. “Late again, Lan Jingyi.”

“Sorry, Teacher. This disciple was busy copying rules when he heard.”

A few of his companions snort, the noise quickly disguised as a sudden and collective bout of coughing. Jingyi can’t blame them ; if he’d heard the same words everyday for weeks on end, he’d be laughing too. Lan Qiren gives a long-suffering sigh, but whatever he’s about to tell them must take precedence, because Jingyi gets away with what might otherwise have been considered cheek.

“Madam Mo of Mo Village has sent us a request for assistance.” Given their teacher’s expression, he might as well said that she’d beaten down their door in the middle of the night and let a donkey loose in the courtyard. “From the servants’ description, it shouldn’t be anything more than a few walking corpses. Nothing a group of juniors cannot handle.”

Yeah, right. Despite knowing he’s supposed to let canon run its course, Jingyi still feels a twinge of apprehension. Why, you ask? He can answer that in two points.

Things Jingyi knows : mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Things Jingyi doesn’t know : how to kill zombies with swords.

In theory, he did spend the last few weeks training, and he didn’t slack off either, thank you very much. Doesn’t mean he’s ever gone up against a corpse before. He’s a coward, okay? Horror movie night was hell, back in his own world. He’s in no hurry to experience it in real (?) life.

“Lan Sizhui will lead the group,” Lan Qiren continues. “I expect all of you to keep your behaviors appropriate and not bring shame onto our sect.” To no one’s surprise, Jingyi thinks, and throws the interested party a small smile. To his surprise, Sizhui blushes and looks down at his boots, looking both embarrassed and pleased. It’s an unfairly cute look on him, but again, most of his looks are.  

Right on cue, the System wheezes to life like it just crawled out of a computer from the nineties.【Beginning stage checkpoint mission assigned. Destination : Mo Village. Mission : ensure the protagonist, Wei Wuxian, makes it to Mount Dafan to meet love interest Lan Wangji. Please click to accept.】

Jingyi mentally slams the Accept button.

Ding!  【Mission successfully accepted. Please read the file carefully for mission details and make appropriate preparations. We wish you success. 】

OOC function, here he comes!

[powerrangersfamilia]

Tattoo AU Headcanons

by @wonder-rangers @trinisgayforkimberly @katedisun and @penvision

- Trini and Billly work in a tattoo parlor called 'the pit' next to a Krispy Kreme where Zack somehow got promoted to assistant manager

- Trini is not a morning person, at all, (never mind that 'the pit' opens at 11) so she always stops at Krispey Kreme on the way in to pick up her and Billy's usual from Zack

- Zack mentions that the little shop next door has finally sold (after greeting her way too enthusiastically)

- Trini half listens as he goes on about flowers and a girl in pink

- It doesn't click until the next morning when she sees a guy unloading bushels and bushels of plants from a truck

- The flower shop opens early but after seeing Trini go to Krispe Kreme at the same time three days in a row Kim decides that she and Jason need a daily mid-morning pick-me-up

- That has nothing to do with the girl with tattoo sleeves and what Kim is pretty sure is a flower tattoo on her thigh, mostly hidden by her shorts

- For the first week Kim only sees pre-coffee, grumpy, eyes barely open Trini

- Kim becomes quick friends with Zack while (not as subtly as she thinks) asking about Trini

- Zack rolls his eyes when Trini starts asking about Kim a few days later

- And points out that she's being an ass

- Trini goes into the flower shop on lunch break that same day to buy flowers for the tattoo shop and apologize

- Kim lights up when she sees Trini and gets a little too excited to finally talk to her

- She spends half an hour chatting with Trini about the options for the simple arrangement

- Trini notices that Kim has a few little tattoos; an iris behind her ear (she got it after she went through a tough time in high school), a semi-colon on her inner wrist, thinks she sees a bit of ink on her collarbone when her shirt shifts

- Trini wonders what other tattoos Kim might have for the rest of the afternoon, wonders if she always smells like earth and flowers

- Trini places a weekly order for a fresh flower arrangement and either goes to the shop to pick them up (which takes forever because all she wants to do is listen to Kim talk flowers) or Kim delivers them (which takes even longer because all she wants to do is listen to Trini talk tattoos)

- The fourth week they're slammed with orders for an upcoming high school dance and Kim is stuck in the back, buried beneath corsages, so she sends Jason

- Jason meets Billy at the counter and by the end of the conversation has been convinced to stay for lunch

- He just starts taking his lunch to the tattoo shop (usually as soon as Trini walks into the flower shop with a coffee just the way Kim likes it and a flimsy excuse to be there)

- And heading over after the flower shop closes (Kim always declines to join him, blushing furiously)

- He watches Billy work, and is fascinated

- One night they are looking through Billy's tattoo portfolio and Jason looks at him

- "I want you to give me one"

- Jason is afraid of needles but doesn't tell Billy, so he has a mini freakout right before Billy starts

- He tries to play it cool but Billy knows because he's seen it before, and he knows Jason

- He tells Jason when he's going to start

- And keeps asking him if he's okay throughout the process

- It is after hours, so it is just the two of them in the shop, just the buzzing of the needle and Billy's voice

- They take a lot of little breaks, and Billy explains while doing Jason's tattoo that he used to be afraid of needles, too

- And how he overcame it

- And talks about how his dad wanted to be a tattoo artist before Billy was born, but when Billy came along he started working for the mines to provide for his family

- After his dad died he became obsessed with the art

- Jason asks if he can see some of Billy's dad's work

- Billy lifts his shirt to show a tattoo on his ribs

- Says he let Trini do it because he trusted her to do it right

- Says he has one on his thigh, too, that he did himself

- It's his first tattoo, a mix of his dad's traditional style and his own geometric

- When Billy proudly announces that he's done, Jason asks if he can kiss him and Billy hums in agreement

- Jason's tattoo reminds both of them of this quiet moment just after midnight

- Kim visits the tattoo shop almost as often as Trini visits the flower shop

- Regular customers, and Billy, ask if Kim is Trini's girlfriend after the taller girl finally leaves

- Trini blushes every time, mutters a "we're just friends"

- Billy looks at Trini's new designs, "why do you keep doodling flowers all of the time? Are you practicing a new technique?"

- Trini just huffs and blushes deeper

- Billy drops it, but Jason does not

- He is patient in the beginning and doesn't mind picking up extra orders but these two girls are taking forever

- And if he has to listen to Kim gush about Trini while making bouquets one more time he is going to lose it

- Trini brings Kim, and Jason, coffee, and Jason is drowning in orders while Kim laughs in the corner with Trini about something that happened last night when they went out of drinks

- Trini finally leaves and Kim immediately starts in, "did you see the way she brushed back her hair"

- Jason mutters "just friends my ass"

- "I heard that!"

- "Then you should do something about that or help me over here!"

- "We're just friends, Jason! ...But seriously, I think she got it cut-"

- "KIM JUST DATE HER ALREADY!"

- "SHE DOESN'T LIKE ME LIKE THAT!"

- The old lady who gets flowers for her husband's grave every other day rolls her eyes, "yes she does, pull your shit together."

- "No, she does-"

- "Honey... she comes over here to show you a new tattoo design every day no matter what."

- "So what? They're all really good."

- "She showed you a picture of a stick figure three days in a row, she's over here for you."

- "Yeah but-"

- The old lady hits Kim with her flowers

- "Ow! What was that for?"

- "For being an idiot! I know you're not as blind as me!"

- Trini forgot her coffee and comes back in to witness Kim getting smacked with flowers by an old lady yelling "you're lucky you're taller than me otherwise I would've smacked you upside the head!" and just slowly backs out

- Krispe Kreme regulars start asking if they're dating yet because they still meet up for coffee every morning

- Zack starts a pool

- Billy runs it

- Kim and Trini are just talking at the counter and Billy, Jason, Zack, and the old lady are crowded around a table whispering to each other

- The old lady is whispering loudly, "I swear I'll be in my grave before they get together."

- "My husband would've given them a run for their money."

- Oh for God's sake, just kiss her already! I'm not getting any younger over here!"

- It's been months and Zack is getting impatient, he convinces Tommy to go buy a bouquet and make it very obvious that it's for Trini

- "Zack, we're dating."

- "Yeah, but they don't know that." Zack pouts and Tommy agrees to get him to stop

- Kim does not know about it when she is taking the order, even with Tommy dropping all kinds of hints

-  But when she goes to take over Trini's usual order for the tattoo shop she catches Tommy giving the bouquet she just made to Trini

- Her mouth goes dry and her eyes get moist, and she just heads to the shop and mopes in the back room for the rest of the day, even refusing to come out when Trini comes over

- Jason gets most of the story out of Kim and stomps over to Krispe Kreme, "whatever you did you made it worse!"

- "I didn't do anything!"

- "Please! When do you not do anything?!"

- "Okay so maybe I did do something..."

- Trini hands a pouty Kim her favorite coffee when the flower shop opens the next morning and somehow stumbles through a half-coherent rant

- About how two different techniques can end really well together

- And she and Kim are so different but just enough where they still work together

- There are some more tattoo/flower analogies before Trini finally ends her rant by asking Kim out

- And Jason is in the back listening and thinking 'this is the most embarrassing confession ever, I'm going to tell Zack everything."

- Zack teases Trini the next morning, "so you guys work well together, huh?"

- Trini punches him but when she turns around she cannot help but smile.

- That same day Tini leans over Kim's counter for a kiss, then one more, then just another quick one, before leaving

- The old lady hits Kim with her flowers, "it's about damn time, sweety!"

- "It wasn't that long!"

- "I wasn't this close to death when you met her!"

- Billy gives Kim a tattoo

- And talks about how happy he is that she's dating Trini and how happy Trini is and how happy he and Jason are that she and Trini are happy the whole time

- Trini gets to discover the rest of Kim's tattoos that she has been so curious about

- And finally finds out that Kim does always smell like earth and flowers

[nipponnomad]

Translation: ONE-Sensei Young Sunday Interview :D

I did my best to summarize this hour-long interview with ONE-sensei, uploaded to YouTube by Young Sunday in March and uploaded to Tumblr by the lovely and talented @one-blog last week. Please note, while my Japanese is decently high-level, I typically translate written Japanese rather than spoken Japanese (which, by its very nature, is harder to translate), so there might be mistakes here or there. That said, I believe I captured the general gist of things. If you're fluent in Japanese and want to do a more comprehensive translation in the future, please feel free!

EDIT: Here are some more detailed translations of selected parts of the interview, based on Japanese transcripts that @isasm found. :)

ONE-SENSEI: YOUNG SUNDAY INTERVIEW

Things to note:

-I mostly focused on what ONE said, as the hosts talked a lot and tended to get off on tangents.

-ONE comes across quite shy in this interview, especially in comparison to the super-chatty hosts. There are times when the hosts start to ask him a question and he doesn't seem to know what to say. There are also a few times where it looks like ONE is honest-to-god dissociating. That said, it's a good interview that includes some pretty insightful commentary.

-ONE is forced to sit in the creakiest wooden chair known to man.

-Maybe this is common knowledge, but is ONE married? You can see what looks like a wedding ring in a lot of shots.

-Instead of “ONE-sensei,” the hosts refer to ONE as “ONE-kun” throughout. I'm not sure why. It's kind of cute though.

The Interview: ONE's Life Story

The hosts begin with small talk, chatting about a new album they've listened to, and introducing ONE-sensei and his work in general terms. ONE doesn't actually show up until about nine and a half minutes in. The hosts ask if he's seen their show before and he says he has, that he watched it after he was invited to appear on it. The hosts seem quite pleased and amused about that.

ONE is asked what sorts of activities he did in middle school and high school. He responds that he did tennis in middle school, but he wasn't at a super high level. Because ONE comes across pretty shy and self-effacing, the hosts joke that they can now understand where Mob Psycho came from. They then announce that they're going to do an abbreviated life history for ONE, who says he's nervous.

ONE says he was born on October 29th, 1986, and is a Scorpio. His birthday is next week or the week after next (from when this interview was filmed). The hosts remark on how he's relatively young.

ONE says he was born in Niigata but raised in Saitama Prefecture, where he's lived for 22 or 23 years. His hometown is near Kounosu (wherever that is). He specifies that his town shares a DMV with Kounosu, which is such a charmingly mundane detail. :P

The hosts ask what kind of kid he was. He says he was a normal kid, but “low tension” (i.e. low energy, quiet, laid back). The hosts say that that explains why his characters tend to be low tension as well. ONE agrees that might be the case. He says there are times when he gets more energetic, and the hosts tease him, implying that now is certainly not one of those times. ONE says he did get really energetic when the One Punch Man anime was announced.

How ONE Started Drawing Manga

The hosts ask how he felt when the One Punch Man anime was announced, and ONE says it was really awesome. The hosts remark that One Punch Man reminds them of American comics and is like a “Japanese Marvel.” ONE agrees that he has a similar image of One Punch Man and has always found its advent a little mysterious—like he doesn't quite know where it came from. ONE states that it's now been about three or four years since One Punch Man debuted in Ura Sunday and Shonen Jump.

ONE says that he started drawing manga in elementary school and can't remember exactly how he got started. He says he remembers reading Crayon Shin-chan on the shinkansen and stuff and trying to draw it (he specifies that he was very slow at drawing at the time). He says that Crayon Shin-Chan was an early influence on him, which the hosts find unusual.

The hosts ask about his upbringing and whether or not his parents were strict. It seems his family was a bit strict and he didn't show them his manga growing up—because he was embarrassed, but also because he expected he would be scolded for drawing manga instead of studying. So basically, he hid his manga hobby until he got to college. The hosts compare him to Kamuro from Mob Psycho, presumably because of the strict family.

The hosts ask if ONE ever submitted one of his comics for publication. ONE says he did submit to Shonen Jump when he was a first-year college student, but that it didn't go well because “it wasn't an interesting story.” He says the guy who reviewed his manga at Shonen Jump went through it really fast with a totally blank face and that ONE was sent packing pretty quickly.

Because the submission didn't go well, ONE started putting his comics on his personal blog. At the time, it was really hard to read the comic on your phone because you could basically only see one panel at a time and you had to go through all fifteen pages that way. Eventually, he started drawing manga on his computer and uploading it from there. He got really into the “pasokon manga” culture and bought himself a drawing tablet and downloaded Comic Studio.

He began uploading his work to a pasokon manga site where all the users were beginners or semi-professional. As far as I can tell, the site was called NEETsha, short for “NEET Shakai” or “NEET Society.” (Please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on that one.) This was when he started drawing One Punch Man.

About One Punch Man

The hosts ask where the name One Punch Man (“Wanpanman”) came from. One host points out that it obviously sounds like Anpanman. Obviously it also sounds like One Piece (“Wanpiisu”), which is a sales juggernaut in Japan. ONE points out that actually “Wanpanman” outsells “Wanpiisu” overseas.

They ask what kind of character ONE was aiming for when he created Saitama. ONE says he always loved shonen manga and read a lot of it, and he thought about the final episode/battle, when the character was at their greatest strength. Basically, he thought it would be funny to start with a character who was already at the peak of their power and go from there, watching each successive villain get taken out in one hit.

Within the world of One Punch Man, the hosts note, Saitama is basically a regular person, he's laid back and flexible and his main concern is everyday stuff like going to special sales. They also note that Mob is similar, being a quiet type of guy who keeps a low profile until his percentage starts going up.

The hosts ask if One Punch Man immediately became popular after ONE posted it to NEETsha. ONE says it was pretty soon afterward, and that he enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts and comments and encouragement.

At this point, the hosts realize the interview is half over and they've totally forgotten about the personal history thing.

About Mob Psycho 100

As the hosts see it, there are three major themes in ONE's work: 1) What is power? 2) What should be done with power? 3) What is our true power, and how are we supposed to live with that power? We don't typically see the characters longing for more power; instead, we're dropped into the middle of the story and watch what they do after they've already become powerful. This is evident in Mob Psycho 100.

The hosts ask if the Mob Psycho manga has changed from when ONE put it online to when it was released in print. ONE says it hasn't really changed but it was worse reading it online because it was so small and hard to read on a cell phone screen. The hosts also ask if ONE has had assistants helping him to edit and fix things up, but ONE says they weren't there in the beginning.

The hosts look at some of the pages from Mob Psycho and comment on the art. When they compliment ONE's use of lines for emphasis in one picture, ONE says, in a self-deprecating sort of way, that he just did it using a tool in Comic Studio. The hosts also remark on the way Reigen holds a phone in one panel (you probably know which one) and laugh a lot. However, following this seeming criticism, one of the hosts keeps calling the art in Mob Psycho “punk” or “hip hop.” I had a hard time figuring out what he meant by that, but I think he's calling it a sort of indie, outsider art. He goes on to say that it's not like how everyone else draws and isn't imitating the prevailing manga style.

The same host states that there are two kinds of mangaka: 1) the “cover band” type that imitates others without really thinking for themselves, and 2) the type that doesn't imitate others and thinks for themselves. For example, many “cover band” mangaka imitate the battle scenes in Dragonball, whereas the ones in Mob Psycho look—if anything—more like battles in Akira. The hosts ask ONE if he was inspired by Akira. ONE says he likes Akira but doesn't really answer one way or another.

The hosts have been talking a lot, so they interrupt themselves to ask if ONE wants to correct them on anything. ONE has just one thing he wants to say: when he was drawing the picture of Reigen holding the cell phone, surprisingly enough, he drew it while looking at his own hand. This comment gets big laughs.

Themes in ONE's Work

The hosts discuss the issue of “leveling up,” comparing it to “geemu nou” (“game brain,” a type of dementia allegedly caused by playing too many video games). In English academic discourse, we would probably call this “gameification.” Basically, people who play a lot of games—as well as the protagonists in a lot of shonen manga—become obsessed with “reaching the next level” and don't focus on anything else. The hosts ask ONE if there's some sort of lesson in his work about the dangers of this type of single-mindedness.

ONE says that he's noticed this tendency in shonen manga. By contrast, he discusses the series he was influenced by as a child, Crayon Shin-chan—specifically, the movie version of Crayon Shin-chan. As a series about a normal family, Crayon Shin-chan was generally fairly peaceful and funny. However, in the movie, things got kind of serious. ONE believes that, when things get serious in a gag series, they hit extra hard.

He compares this to One Punch Man. Even though it's a gag manga, the world itself is pretty serious, with people being killed by monsters all the time and so on. Existence itself is like a gag in the world of One Punch Man, which ONE finds interesting.

Finally, the hosts show pages from the fight between the esper kids and Claw's 7th Division. They discuss the part where Mob very calmly and directly tells Gas Mask Ojiichan: “Having psychic powers won't make you popular.” Gas Mask Ojiichan then gets upset and yells: “EVEN SO, I SHOULD BE TREATED SPECIAL!” So basically, Claw is full of children who never managed to mature into adults and don't want to become “commoners.”

ONE then talks about “commoners,” average people who get up in the morning, get on the train to go to work, and do their best day after day. ONE thinks that this in itself—being a member of society—is difficult in its own way, and that's what Saitama and Mob are trying to do.

I feel like that's a really lovely way to end the interview. Sadly, they never finish the personal history and we never find out what ONE's favorite food, color, movie, manga, and type of woman are. :(

[skepticaloccultist]

Hell Fire Club Books

Hell Fire Club Books is a rather remarkable, very old school approach to book binding and publishing. Helmed by Eamonn Loughran they have released an astounding collection of esoteric and occult volumes over the last two decades. Individually hand craft leather and vellum bound volumes, hand worked tooling and incredible editions and folio bindings are a hallmark of HFCB work.

After reviewing his incredible edition of the Keys of Rabbi Solomon I thought that a chat about the work his is doing would be enlightening to those who, like myself, have a love for fine bindings and beautiful books.

+++

Lets start off with a bit of background on Hell Fire Club. When did you start publishing fine bindings? What was your first volume?

Well 'Hell Fire Club Books' really began about 20-21 years ago with my interest in the PGMs (Greco Egyptian Magical Papyri) where I produced a facsimile of one document with suggested new readings, it was the legendary 'Headless God' invocation, something that I am working on completing for this year (yes 21 years later!). The real intent of Hell Fire Club Books was to provide a window into the magical current of an old incarnation of Thelema and to link that with the modern world. I was living in Buckinghamshire (UK) at the time and had been simultaneously researching Crowley's techniques in Liber Samekh and the history of the 18th century Hell Fire Club. Behind 'Hell Fire Club Books' is actually a small circle which keeps the legends and symbolism of the original Hell Fire Club alive, thats what makes it unique!

  Fine binding is having a renaissance at the moment, with deluxe editions becoming the norm for most publishers of the esoteric. HFCB on the other had is all fine bindings. How do you choose which works you feel need the special bindings you create?

Things jump at me! I literally get a big charge from the creative and magical work I'm handling and from there its a daemonic rush to the bindery where something physical takes shape! I was trained in a bindery in Nottingham UK which was established in 1903, the old guys had never worked anywhere else and binding in leather by hand was a daily practice. My first real test there was a run of over 450 leather bound books in silk lined boxes for the Houses of Parliament, a row of highly skilled craftsmen working like steam engines drinking tea all day and chatting about fishing and cricket with me in the middle trying to keep up! I learned from working with them and soaked it all up with enthusiasm every minute! I suppose I'm a visual and tactile thinker really, I've never understood the concept of a non-physical magic, for me everything is inherently physical and where the manifestation of a book touches people not only in distant places but across time then we can be sure that their experience is a more powerful one, a book literally initiates a new current.

Leather and vellum binding and sourcing high quality papers are increasingly difficult. Where do you acquire the variables for your productions?

Fortunately the best producers are all still in business! In the UK there are a number of bookbinder suppliers both trade and conservation etc plus good tanneries both here and in France and Germany. I have to say that from long experience there is only one supplier of vellum I would use and thats William Cowleys of Buckinghamshire, they have been in business over a hundred years and their work is perfection every time. I have used many paper-marblers and toolmakers over the years and have ventured into using letterpress a few times, we have two large format vintage presses here which I hope to use more of this year.

As our readers are aware I am a lover of beautiful bindings and consider it an art. Each of your works being made by hand and not outsourced means they are practically art objects. How do you feel about the sometimes eye watering secondary market valuations of your work?

Well to an extent the 'dealer' market can help to keep things in the public eye for many years, I do believe that many dealers are simply looking at the math and pricing accordingly, but yes there are a few examples of unfriendly pricing which is a pity. Personally I get more satisfaction in knowing that somebody out there got the one thing they really wanted than that a small number of people have one of everything. Im a bit of an idealist and would like to feel that handling a book or other object made by hand inspires people to really get into something, to really live it and for that magical act to reverberate throughout their lives.

Having done a bit of binding myself one hurdle has been finding the tools required to do the gold tooling for the covers, particularly the brass text pieces. How did you come on to the tool set you have?

I literally built it up over the last 10-15 years, I did inherit a significant collection of 19the and 20th century brass letters and tools (including sets in Greek and Hebrew) from the bindery I worked for, otherwise I have had tools designed and cut for each individual project. Theres a tray cabinet in the bindery with over a hundred drawers of tools and blocks which is a goldmine of ideas, sometimes I just spend an hour browsing!

Your recent publication of Peterson's translation of the Honorius looks to be another exceptional work. As you move forward with HFC do you foresee more contemporary works and translations being released?

Yes absolutely, in fact over the last year I have expanded the bindery and whether for my own imprint or for others I have been involved in at least one new publication per week. Over the last 9 years I was mostly involved in running a village pub in a place called Castle Bytham in Lincolnshire, the bindery then was a converted barn at the rear of the main building. To be honest I had outgrown it in the first few months and was looking for a larger workspace either within the village or nearby. About 12 months ago I took on a huge space in a Victorian malthouse which has since been filled with more benches, presses and so forth, a simply enormous studio but I love it!

Are you doing all of the bindery work yourself or do you have assistants? A run of hundreds of volumes is an incredible amount of work for an individual.

I am doing all the work myself I do have a bit of help with hand sewing one day a week but apart from that it's me myself and I! I was trained in a bindery established in 1903 and the prevailing attitude was pretty Victorian, the company was considered old fashioned on the 1960s and hadn't changed a bit when I worked there! I worked with a bunch of old guys who had either been letterpress trade apprentices or had gone up in the trade as bookbinders, one even had his original indenture (a form of apprentices' contact which goes back over 100 years). I actually own a set of presses and hand tools which were bought by the company when they stared as a stationers shop in the early 1900s, one of the hand tools is dateable to the 18th century (it was in a biscuit tin!) and was a treasured talisman until the company moved premises and I inherited it.

I do often hear the voices of the old binders I used to work with, turning the same presses daily that they worked at for forty years, old chaps who loved cricket, fishing and weekends away in caravans. What always tickled me was the way they gently poked fun at each other about things that happened over thirty years previously! I'm the late 1960s one of the guys had fancied himself as a songwriter and even appeared on an early television talent show, he was beaten to the prize by a singing dog, his workmates never let him forget it and thirty years later they all still sang the song on his birthday!

Do you have a particular work you feel is your masterpiece so far? One that stands out to you as an exemplar of your fantastic skills?

I guess I would have to say that the vellum edition of The Holy Books of Thelema in a leather clamshell box was pretty damn good! I got a real kick out of making all the books and boxes for all the different sets, it was over 1000 books handmade plus boxes etc so a huge commitment for one person but to think that it was the first time (since Crowley's own 1909 edition) that the Holy Books had been produced in the manner he specified, arranged exactly as the A.'.A.'. students ought to receive it. After that I think that 'The Sacred Magic of Abramelin' edited by Georg Dehn (both vellum and calfskin editions) and the 'Honorius' by Joseph Peterson are rather special.

Tell me about the re-release of "Secret Symbols of The Hell Fire Club". What type of binding and edition size can we look forward to?

The Secret Symbols of The Hell Fire Club has been an important publication for us since its first release seven years ago, it went out of print very quickly and copies are extremely difficult to find even for our members. An electronic version was made available but since then both new information and original sources have come to light which make a new edition essential. I should imagine we will produce a limited number of leather copies and a trade edition which will be sent out mainly through the United States.

The book traces the ideas and history behind the Hell Fire Club of the 18th century and gives an insight into its survival today, following clues left in the caves at West Wycombe and architecturally in the house and surrounding area, an initiatory journey is unfolded which throws light on the nature of the current of Thelema before Crowley, a mystery school with a symbolism otherwise unknown.

Have you done commission work or custom volumes for individuals or other publishers? Is that something you are open to doing?

I have done many commissions over the years and am working on a few now, mostly private manuscripts that require archival boxes or some manner of conservation but occasionally rebinding older printed books and creating blank books and artists books. Large format work is a particular favourite of mine and I love using the bigger presses to produce monsters!

I have worked with other publishers on a number of occasions and there are some well known esoteric works I have had a quiet hand in, I think in time the bindery will expand again as we continue to publish and to accept archival and private work. Who knows what the future holds...

Explore the many creations of Eamonn's Hell Fire Club Books here:

www.hellfireclubbooks.co.uk

[willswalkabout]

New Zealand. I've put off writing this blog for an obscenely long period of time. And it really isn't that I didn't have the opportunity. I think I just know it takes time so it does become daunting, and this only increases as the amount to get in also becomes greater. Technically it's now been a day under 3 weeks since I last posted (at the time of writing). I'm sitting in a hut on the Kepler track so won't be able to post till tomorrow night at the earliest. The plan is to split it into 3 but we'll see how it goes. When I last wrote I was about to land in Auckland and join up with Ellen so I'll pick up from there. I got into Auckland very late and then exiting the airport took ages as my tent had to go through customs. It had been tightly wrapped for storage but was returned to me in one massive pile of material, as they'd had to somehow inspect every inch. Eventually I got an uber to the air BnB Ellen was staying in. She'd had the last two nights on the island of Waiheke, with some contacts called Nick and Beth, who I hope to visit later in the trip. The next day we started a 9 day road trip to Queenstown, during which we would cover a total of 1418 miles. The descriptions of these days may seem pretty lightweight, but there was often a lot of driving. We learnt to embrace this and just enjoy the stunning scenery, but this acceptance was not immediate. Day 1 we picked up the car and trying to do a decent amount of shopping that would hopefully cover us for the majority of the trip. We drove to our campsite on the South side of lake Taupo, via a visit to the Huka falls. The campsite was really nice and though we'd actually had a booking for the day before we successfully convinced the campsite this wasn't the case and managed to keep the night. My all in one stove was used for the first time since early September, to great success as we dined on mushroom risotto. Day 2 we drove to Wellington, one of NZ's 3 biggest cities. We would have been doing the volcanic Tongariro crossing however sadly the weather meant it was closed. Wellington is supposed to be quite young and hip however sadly we didn't get to indulge in this culture due to the long drive. We did however visit New Zealand's national museum which had some very impressive exhibitions on their immigration history, as well as involvement at Gallipoli. We stayed the night at our weirdest air BnB experience. The house belonged to an elderly man who had appeared to have resorted to living and sleeping in his living room so that all his bedrooms could be rented out. However this meant that the wardrobes were full of his clothes, and stuffed toys filled the property. It was a little creepy, and after a long days driving we took advantage that evening of NZ having cheap dominos. Having spoken to people later in the trip it seems Wellington was not done justice and I would like to return. Day 3 involved getting the 9am ferry across the Cook Straight, to Picton on the South Island. It's quite an expensive crossing when you're taking a car, however the 4 hours are beautiful, especially as you meander into Picton harbour, a route which is hard to describe in words so I'd advise looking up Picton on a map. The ferry had a couple of nice restaurants and we got chips, before disembarking to drive along the stunning Queen Charlotte's drive. It is viewpoint after viewpoint as you begin to round the island's north coast, making it sometimes difficult to keep your eyes on the road. We drove to a beautiful Department of Conservation (DOC) campsite which was practically deserted. We also made a trip to the beautiful Cable Bay beach, with white sand deceptively cold water. After stocking up on supplies in Nelson we went back and made some pretty decent pasta that night. Day 4 was a very long drive to Abel Tasman, probably the only real disappointment of the trip. Though it was fun to pick up a German hitchhiker for part of the day, the drive was long and windy, and what met us at the end was a tad underwhelming. This campsite was also empty but felt like it would be packed during the summer. I had read about opportunities to rent kayaks and do other watersport activities, however on consulting the workers of the campsite this is a summer season thing, and nobody comes with the kit when they are not going to be in demand. We did do one beach walk before making some noodles and going to bed before we were eaten alive by the resident sand flies. Day 5 and we had to get to Punakaiki on the north west coast. The five hour drive was daunting at first but turned out to be very manageable, assisted by good ice cream about half way through. We both loved Punakaiki and its famous 'pancake rocks', which look like a stack of American variety. There was a beautiful prehistoric looking beach where it was overlooked by a dense rainforest. We managed to use the shadows created by the sunset to take some awesome photos, and had a very lazy pot noodle for dinner. There was a massive Aussie cub camp group at the campsite, whose antics and irritation of the leaders provided amusement. Day 6 we drove down the Franz Josef Glacier. We stopped on the way to do a short walk in the town of Ross, known for its gold mining past. We also bought some chocolate hot cross buns, something I've found many of in Australia and New Zealand, for the trip. After 3 consecutive nights camping and with 2 more to come we decided to take a night off and stay in a hostel. We chose a good one too, as we ended up getting a 4 bed dorm all to ourselves, and were able to wash our clothes and use their fully kitted out kitchen. The 1 hour walk to the glacier was a whole experience in itself, and added yet another landform to our incredibly varied list from NZ so far. We spent the evening chatting to some Germans, who I'm convinced have now overtaken Kiwis in terms of most populous nationality in the country. Day 7 was one of the best drives of the trip, down to Wanaka, past lakes Wanaka and Hawea. We had actually planned to stay at a campsite between the two lakes which didn't need booking. Though on arrival there were no other campers, it was off the highway, and generally had nothing going for it with zero cooking facilities. We chose to drive on to our site in Wanaka and stay for 2 nights. This was the campsite with the best view by a long way, looking out straight onto the lake. Wanaka is a gorgeous lakeside settlement with mostly high end restaurants along the front, with a couple more affordable. We got fish and chips, and a falafel burger. Day 8 was nice as we didn't have to clear out in the morning, having the pitch for 2 nights. We had three plans for the day and in the end only managed about one and a bit. We first planned to paddle board, as Ellen had so enjoyed doing in Waiheke. However the sun was deceiving and instead we settled for a pie, from some shop that had won way to many awards not to be investigated. We did however go to Puzzle World, probably the oddest attraction I have ever seen. It is one pretty odd dude's dream, and is a mixture of illusion rooms and a massive maze. It's hard to describe exactly what the rooms were but they made you feel like you were on a steep slope when in fact you weren't. Whereas another had over 200 concave faces that all followed you around the room as you moved. The maze was also not messing around and was exhausting. We did the 'easy challenge' which was supposed to take a maximum of 90 minutes. We laughed at this estimation, believing ourselves to be decently intelligent. It took us 107. In the afternoon we attempted to do the Roy's peak track. We had massively underestimated its difficulty and duration, as well as Ellen's hamstring situation which is still feeling the effects of a tear suffered last year. That evening we had a massive bowl of pasta and went to bed pretty early. Day 9 marked the end of the trip, and we drove the hour and 15 to Queenstown. We'd booked a hotel for this night, our last before around the 25th July in nearly 4 months time. After a swim in the hotel's pool, we had a short look around the town and went to a great Thai place for dinner. After the past 9 nights accommodation we did also order room service chips solely for the experience. The next morning we had the hotel's buffet breakfast and I dropped Ellen off at the airport for her 11am flight. She was to go to Auckland, followed by a 12 hour layover in Beijing and then home. A total journey time of well over 40 hours. It will be tough not seeing her for so long but I'm also incredibly grateful she made New Zealand work around university holidays, and we had an amazing 10 or so days. In the next post I'll meet up with Eleanor, a school friend, the same day Ellen was dropped off, and spend a few days in Queenstown before the Milford Track.

[hippieintherain-blog]

He’s Coming Home!

Well, now is when I bore you and talk about my husband.  So brace yourself.

Almost three years ago, I got a job at the police station at my school.  When I decided to come to CWU, my police officer father’s first duty was to befriend the chief of police here.  As annoyed as it was, it turned out to be one of the biggest blessings, in more than one way.  This family has taken me under their wing for three years and has supported me as if I was their own.  It also secured me a job whenever I felt that I was settled into school and ready.  So when winter quarter rolled around, I called the chief and told him I was ready!  My first few shifts on the CAT Team (Courtesy Assistance Team.. Team, I guess) were decent.  I tended to work with the same kid every night, Dylan was his name.  The CAT Team was just a handful of student who patrolled campus at night and we had a special phone that students and staff could call if they needed to be walked around campus at night.  It was strictly just for safety and a really neat job - in theory.  We rarely got calls so it really turned into hiding out in a secluded building and watching netflix or doing homework.

Anyway… After a few shits, I noticed that I was scheduled with new people.  Instantly I began asking Dylan what these people were like.  He gave me the run down on everyone, the twins, the only girl, and the “douchebag.”  So when it came to meet these people, I had a lot of preconceived notions about them based on what Dyaln had told me.  Finally, I had worked with everyone except Riley (the d bag).  So when the day came for us to work together, I was ready.  It was the day of the Super Bowl and the Seahawks (my state team) were playing the Patriots.  When I left the party I was at, the score was 24-21 and there wasn’t much time on the clock.  I sat at the station waiting to get let in and he pulled up.  He got out of his car and said “The Seahawks just threw an interception.”  Yeah, they ended up losing, but at that point I could care less.  We spent the whole evening chatting.  Our conversation was seamless, I can’t remember when conversation came so easy with a complete stranger.  Once the night was over, I had developed a serious crush.  When I saw our names on the schedule together a week later, I made sure to fix up my hair and make sure that my makeup was perfect.  Long story short, he never came.  I waited and waited and he never came to work that night so I had to call Dylan to come in.  A few days later he texted me to apologize, we decided that we were going to hang out in a week for my birthday.  When he came to hang out with me I was already pretty drunk and basically the whole night was a blur.  But he stayed with me in my ridiculous state and when I was ready to go home, my other “friend” (aka a guy I was sort of like going on dates with but we were not exclusive) approached me and said he wasn’t going to let this stranger take me home because he wanted to protect me so I ended up going with this other guy and Riley went home with some other girl!  But the next day he asked me to join him for coffee, so I did.  He asked me if I would be his date to the military ball and that night I ended things with the other guy.  We have been together ever since (mostly).

But if you ask his story, he’ll tell you he swiped me left on tinder and I swiped him right.  Which is true… but not as romantic.

So now comes all the sad stuff.  Riley enlisted in the army spring quarter of my freshman, his sophomore year.  We had literally been dating for like… one month when he dropped this bomb on me.  My head was spinning and I told him that the military life was not something I was interested in but that I was willing to keep things going for now. He moved back home with his parents (which just happened to be about 25 minutes from where my parents lived) and we began our long distance relationship.  We saw each other about once a month when I would come home or he would come to visit me.  Finally though school was over and I was home for the summer and we could be together again!  Summer began coming to and end though.  And when he got his date to leave for basic, I was devastated.  At that point, I had fallen in love harder than ever before.  About a month before he was scheduled to ship out, he took me on a drive and he broke the news to me.  He wanted to break up.  He didn’t want to hold me back.  I was young, I was in college, and he didn’t think it was fair for him to just leave and expect me to just be an army girlfriend.  Honestly, I’m crying writing this.  That heartbreak was the worst feeling of my life.  I was devastated.  I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t get out of bed, it was a very Bella and Edward kind of thing.  After a week or two, we began chatting again and he reminded me this had nothing to do with how he felt for me, he just was doing what he thought was the right thing.  So we were basically boyfriend and girlfriend without the title?  When he finally went away, we wrote letters to each other.  It was in these letters that he won me back.  These letters were where he apologized to me day in and day out, where he professed his undying love for me, and where he told me that he wanted to marry me for the first time.  He came home in three months, we got back together and now here we are.

Him being in the army has always been really hard.  He moved away in September of 2015 and now it is November of 2017 and since he left, I have made three trips to see him and he has made three trips to see me.  These weeks have never been enough.  He has lived on the opposite side of the country as me for two years.  This past Christmas he proposed to me in the airport and we decided that when I was to visit the following April, we would elope. 

Riley left for Iraq in August.  And although it has only been three months, these three months have been harder than the six months that we spent without seeing each other.  The time difference is 10 hours.  And not only that but he is working 12′s which means he wakes up for work at 11:00 am his time which is 1 am for me so we can’t talk them.  And he gets off at 1 am his time which is 3 pm for me and I have to work at 3 two days a week.  So we have three weekdays we can chat.  And even then, sometimes his wifi is messy and we don’t get to talk or sometimes he gets off work late and goes directly to bed.  Basically what I am saying is that I can’t even remember the last time we got to Facetime or that I even heard his voice.  His deployment is 9 months and he is supposed to come home in June.  Which works out perfect because our wedding is in August.

Now if anyone has made it this far, you deserve to know.  Last week I got a text saying “I have good news.” and before I could even respond he was telling me that he is coming home three months early!  Three months early?!  So you’re telling me we are half way through this thing and we didn’t even know it?!  You’re telling me that I can come visit you on my spring break and we can go house hunting?

Moral of the story?  The army life is a crazy life, but sometimes, we get blessed.  

[mandimormon-blog]

Edifice Dignified

Holy wow.   Can we all just get along now?   It’s very clear some people really like our new President and others really do not.   We’ve heard you all, loud and clear.  I’m afraid it’s creating a divide.  

In fact, on the way to school a few days ago, our children sat in the backseat < the usual.   We overheard on two opposite sides of the cab, a conversation between my oldest and youngest that consisted of, “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“YES, it is!”

“NO, It’s not!”

My husband glanced over at me and said it sounds a lot like Facebook back there.  I couldn’t help but chuckle.   Honest.

It’s Tuesday, and there isn’t a significant reason for posting a blog on a Tuesday except for the fact I haven’t had time on Sunday or Monday.  So, Tuesday wins.  We are rounding out January 2017.

We just finished up a busy weekend.  My five year-old son, Jude, participated in his first ever baseball clinic.  He’s been uninterested for years but like I said before, my husband swayed his decision and he’s in love.  He, who ?  Both of them.  Allen texted me from observing our son play and told me this was the greatest day of his life.   He has also clarified this baseball thing was a daddy-son deal, not for momma, and honestly, I’m 100% okay with that.  I think.

While Jude was balling, Reis and Remi were cheering at cheer clinic.  Needless to say it was a busy day and that wasn’t all.  While they were cheering I was getting my sweat on and I don’t mean like a little bit of perspiration, my nose was dripping sweat drops at Kettlebell Tabata, which I’m convinced is the best workout on earth.   After watching a brief preview of cheer clinic, I hightailed across town to attend a Cheesecake and Canvas, a fundraiser for the nursery school, with my cousin.  It was a great time!  

Backing up to Friday, I had the opportunity to go into Jude’s class and assist making completely edible Gingerbread Houses.  No glue, my friends, just caramelized sugar to adhere the pieces together.  The Kindergarteners did a marvelous job of assembling and decorating the mini-houses.  

You know, I really did think Spring was at the doorstep, last week, then boom.   It was freezing, again.   On date night, my husband and I went to dinner and after we were done eating before going to Champaign to see Hidden Figures, I changed into a base layer and sweats with a sweatshirt, because I wasn’t going to freeze my tail off.   I was through with my chattering teeth and clinching my abs.  I was all about warmth.  I sat a downed a bag, entirely, of sweet potato chips (because they’re Autoimmune Paleo) and because I’m excessive.  Then I concluded that probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.  I’d add I won’t make that mistake, again, but I can’t say that confidently.

 Today, I’ve been rolling cake balls for my mother’s birthday.   The smell of cake is lingering in my house and each time I washed my hands I gloried over how wonderful they must taste because of their smell.  

Good news, though. Reintroduction on AIP is coming at the end of the week, and I can finally have… drumroll, please… egg yolks, nut oils, and seed-based spices, and I need at least three days in between each introduction to assure there isn’t a reaction.   Ehhh, slowly, but surely.

And it’s Wednesday. Wow.  Still no post but I do have to share some amazing news.  It’s hard for me to admit it (mostly because I want to avoid being lynched for this) but I’ve always been a poor recycler.  I do a good job of recycling veggies and fruits (to compost); recycling clothes (by donation); upcycling (on rare, very rare occasion); but paper, plastic, cardboard, ehhh.. I could do SO much better. But thanks to my wonderful husband, he’s purchased a separate trash can for recycling and we have now designated our back trash can for recycling and our front trash can for non-recyclables. By back trash can I mean, my kitchen cabinet came with a drawer and two cans inside of it.  I mean, honestly the convenience was there all along.  I’ve been taking pride in rinsing out my plastics and placing them into our “recycling bin”.  I’d OCD with my waste baskets anyway, sure we get sloppy sometimes and particles get in the bottom then they need sterilization.  That’s one of my household chores, removing the smelly garbage smell from the cans. Yuck-o.  I did find that one of our cans now has a temporary Minion tattoo on the bottom-inside of it, as I was rinsing with warm water, actually aiding that tattoo to stick.  I haven’t had time to reach my arm down in there and scrap it out.  I said it can stay until the next washing.  

I’ve also been on a massive house-purge, again.   This happens frequently when you live in a cottage.  It also happens when you can’t find something of importance, twice.  I feel like I’ve written this before, but my mom gave me some great advice to never carry around my social security card with me.  So, of course, I put that social security card in a “safe place”.  I don’t know where that “safe place” was.  It’s still a mystery.  As I went through five totes of organized paperwork in our upstairs closet I realized that my children probably don’t need every worksheet they’ve ever done in 2nd grade or preschool, but I should probably just cling to the most important, artistic or creative writing ones.  In fact, I considered googling, “Which schoolwork should I keep so my children don’t hate me when they become adults?”

Instead on my purge-ney (purge-journey), I got sidetracked on how to organize birthday cards and photographs, questioned the need to save birthday cards from every birthday, and then I decided I was unprepared to cope with throwing memories away.  So, I left three totes outside of the closet with one bag of donations and one back of recycling.  Tomorrow is game on, closet.  Purgeney 2017 is coming for you.

Well, it’s now Saturday.  What you’ve read thus far was written a few days ago but remained title-less until today.  Remi and I just got home from Kettlebell Tabata and we’re ready to embark on many adventures today.  A basketball game she’s cheering during, two birthday parties for Reis, a daddy-daughter date for Remi, and Jude is stuck with me.  ;-D

My children love electronic devices.  So much so, that we really need to place some limitations.  It’s getting excessive.  A fun part is they’ll randomly text my cell phone or someone else’s cell phone (like Gram’s) from the iPad, spontaneously.  Usually sending 47 emoji’s, 11 times in a row, with no rhyme or reason.  Thank goodness for my unlimited data plan.  Occasionally, Jude will press the predicted words at the top of the smartphone text box and real words will come through with no meaning.  Other times, just letters.  However, a few days ago, “Edifice Dignified” came through and I wondered what kind of riddle this was coming from my husband.  Jude didn’t accompany that message with any emojis or an additional 35 text messages.  Later I figured out it was him.  

Ah, 2017, such a different time.  When I was a middleschooler circa 1999, AOL Instant Messenger became “a thing”.  I would chat for hours on end with my friends.  I guess it’s similar with iPods except there wasn’t Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook, or any photos on the other end.  Only words.  Only words and abbreviations like: lol, brb, prw, cu l8er < wow.  Sometimes we’d group chat.  We all had screen names, too, we didn’t even go by our real names.  The evolution of social media is pretty nifty.  Going back a little further, my parents purchased our first desktop computer around 1993.  It was a Macintosh, with a ginormous monitor and the disk drive and CD-ROM ports were built into that huge monitor.  There was a big tower (which I think still exist,  I’ve had laptops for the past 10 years), and a keyboard.  I could play Minesweeper, Solitaire, and any other games which were purchased in a huge box from an electronic store.  This was back around the time when Oregon Trail was still trending.  I recall in Kindergarten having my first computer exposure to a small screen and huge keyboard box with a floppy drive.  It was the Apple II E.  

It floors me how my children can pick up on games or programs so quickly. Jude downloaded a game similar to Minecraft and he goes to town, building and creating with his imagination.  He builds secret passageways under homes and puts in gardens and pools and builds structures.  It’s pretty incredible.  But from the tools he’s provided, on the side of the screen, there is no way I’d be able to figure out how to do anything!  I mean maybe after awhile.  

Just the other day, after Family Home Evening, I mean we’re talking a few minutes after, he’d already built a temple on his app.  Incredible.