#oh heck one moment there's TWO deadlines tomorrow

[brokutosan]

Title. Oikawa Toruu Is Not A Genius, But He Is A Jackass

Pairings. Oikawa Toruu x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which Oikawa doesn’t always tell his girlfriend things. She finds out anyways.

Warnings. Contains manga spoliers! Oikawa’s inferiority complex is mentioned a lot, as well as his anxieties over it. The title and the summary are misleading, sorry. This is a fluffy imagine (sort of).

“Honey, I’m home!” Oikawa Toruu calls out to a silent apartment. Also, it’s three in the morning, but he’s Oikawa Toruu and Oikawa Toruu could care less if he’s bothering the whole building, so long as he could finally take her in his embrace again (he’s up for a treat when she does wake up though, and not the one he’s expecting).

Oikawa takes note of the subtle changes from when he was last here. For instance, the old hand-me-down couch they got from his mom is replaced by a new, clean, and sleek black couch. There’s also some new additions of little knick knacks here and there, but it still felt like home to him. Kicking off his worn out sneakers by the door, not even bothering to check if it knocked over some of her things, Oikawa heads straight to the bedroom, where he’s welcomed by her sleeping form.

She’s dressed in one of his old Seijoh shirt along with white shorts and her arms are clinging onto a pillow. Oikawa gushes at the sight before snapping a quick picture and taking slow, careful, steps towards the bed.

“If you were gonna sneak around you shouldn’t have announced to the whole fucking neighborhood you were home.” She snorts with her eyes still closed. Oikawa stops dead in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights and remains frozen as if not moving would erase his presence all together.

“Hmph!” Oikawa lets out as his face catches a pillow that was chucked at him by his still sleeping girlfriend. “Nice throw babe. Ever thought of a career switch? I can see you making it big in softball.”

“Stop dicking around and just come here.” She mumbles. Oikawa smiles at the adorable sound of her sleep-induced voice. “As you wish my darling.” He says before throwing all his weight onto her sleeping form.

“Toruu, you jackass!” Oikawa lets out a boisterous laugh at her feeble attempts of freeing herself from his arms. The more she wiggles the tighter his hold gets, before she gives in to his embrace.

“I missed you so much.” Oikawa mumbles into her hair once they’ve settled in. He flips them over so they’re now laying side by side, with one arm slung over her form rubbing soothing circles on her back and the other placed under her head.

“Sorry I couldn’t pick you up from the airport. My boss wouldn’t push back the deadline.” Oikawa shakes his head ‘no’ and mumbles out, “It’s fine. This makes up for it.”

“Good, cus you’ll feel my wrath tomorrow morning.” Oikawa gulps down, knowing she’s totally serious.

-

Oikawa wakes up after the first good night’s sleep he’s had in a few months to an empty bed. He catches a whiff of miso soup which leads him into the kitchen, to a sight he’s been missing after all those years in Argentina.

Hunched over the stove is his girlfriend, clad in an oversized t-shirt while mixing something in the pot. The sight makes him smile, before her voice snaps him out of his daydream. “Oi, don’t just stand there, go set the table.” He salutes and scoops up two bowls of rice and places them down on the table alongside various side dishes.

Y/N sets down the pot she was stirring on the stove, letting Oikawa catch another whiff of her familiar cooking. “Thank you for the meal.” He says with a huge smile on his face. Y/N sits down across from him on table, where she then proceeds to stare him down.

The sight reminds Oikawa of his mom, who’s an expert at chastising him with looks alone. She bites down on a spoonful of rice, not once breaking eye contact with him. Oikawa racks his head for anything that he could’ve done wrong to deserve this mental beating. Their anniversary? No, it’s coming up in two months. Her birthday? Like Oikawa could ever forget. Then -

“Mind telling me why exactly you’re here on a vacation?” Oikawa feels the hairs at the back of his neck shoot up. Of course he couldn’t. If she found out he got sent home from over exerting himself again, she’ll rip his head off.

“I mean, there’s no anniversaries coming up, no birthday, and I doubt you’re here willingly where your team ain’t.” She lists off the facts with her fingers. Oikawa can feel the storm coming, this was only the calm before it.

“If you wanted to hide the fact that you’ve gone and practiced yourself ‘til you collapsed, maybe don’t have me listed as your emergency contact!” There it is. The ‘wrath’ she had mentioned the night before. “I mean seriously, Toruu! Did Hajime not tear your ass apart in highschool enough for practicing too hard?! You want me to do it too?! I’m scarier than that beefy bastard!” Yes, yes she is. Oikawa silently tells himself.

He clears the table of anything she could use against him as a weapon. Her chopsticks, fork, and empty mug, to name a few things.

“Oops?” Oikawa flinches as her palms make contact with the table. “Oops?!” She screeches. Oikawa gulps down a spoonful of miso soup, trying his best to avoid her gaze. He’s expecting more yelling, but is met with a soft look and a teary girlfriend over miso soup and rice. Fuck. He’d prefer the yelling girlfriend.

“Did you know how useless I felt when your coach called me saying you were bedridden for a week because you just didn’t know when to stop?” She lets out a deep breathe and continues, “Like what the fuck was I supposed to do from across the world? Fucking pray you weren’t out there dying? You didn’t even have the decency to call and let me know!”

Despite her larger than life personality that Oikawa has grown to love over the years, the sight of his girlfriend looking so small makes his heart burst from guilt. He fucked up. That much he could admit. His tendency to push higher and relentlessly practice until he felt his lungs begging for a break was always something that worried her, especially now that she’s not exactly within reach to stop him from pushing himself too hard.

“Toruu, I support your dream one hundred percent, even if it’s taking you thousands of miles away from me, but please,” The anger laced in her voice is replaced with desperation, making Oikawa want to reach out and hold her close, “take care of yourself too. If not for yourself, then do it for me.”

He doesn’t know whether it’s the fact that someone cares about him so much to the point it brings her to tears, or the fact that she is in tears, but he feels himself trembling from the burst of affection. Oikawa doesn’t have the best track record of handling his insecurities well, but knowing that that makes her sad makes him want to do better.

Oikawa crosses over the table and gently places her head on his chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Though she’s still a bit shaky from yelling and crying, Y/N eventually calms herself down to sniffles and tiny whimpers.

“I’m sorry.” Oikawa decides to speak first.

“I wasn’t looking for an apology.”

“But I’m sorry either way.” He lets his body fall into her embrace, noting this as another thing he’s missed since moving to Argentina. “For not taking care of myself. For not letting you know I collapsed. For always worrying you, but never stopping to check in on you.”

“And I’m sure this’ll happen again in the future,” he earns a light smack on his chest for that, “but I’ll just say sorry for that too.”

“And,” Oikawa mumbles, his face burrowed deep into the crook of her heck, “thank you, for looking out for me even though I don’t deserve it. You can’t understand how much I appreciate knowing you’re there for me, even if it’s not always physical.”

Y/N feels herself relaxing in his embrace, arms finally wrapping themselves around his waist. Her eyes are slightly watery as she looks up and says, “Promise you won’t hide these kinds of things from me anymore?”

Oikawa opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted,

“And I don’t just mean when you pass out. I mean like if it ever gets hard living alone in Argentina. If you miss home, if you think you’re working too hard and need a break, I want to know everything, Toruu.”

Oikawa simply hums in response, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I promise.”

-

A little while later, after they’ve both calmed down and are cuddling on the couch watching some old movie, Oikawa perks up, suddenly remembering something.

“I brought you a gift, by the way.” He skips off into the bedroom, unzipping one of his many suitcases. (He packed four, plus his carry ons. He’s only staying for two weeks). Y/N is visibly nervous at the fact that this ‘gift’ has a whole suitcase designated for it. Turns out she had a good reason to be.

“What the fuck am I looking at.”

“It’s me!” Oikawa exlaims, one hand forming a peace sign brought up to his face, and the other holding up a horrendous life sized body pillow complete with his face and team uniform. Y/N could only blink, wishing to Christen her eyes from the terrible sight. Or maybe turn back time to before she even saw it. After a long moment of silence, in which Oikawa did not move an inch from his previous position, Y/N finally gathers enough sanity to say,

“Alright, get the fuck out of my house.”

Oikawa decides to dig his own grave by cheekily calling out, “Oh come on babe! Think of it as a coping mechanism for when you’re missing your totally awesome boyfriend-”

A throw pillow makes it’s way to Oikawa’s face. They’re called throw pillows for a reason, because now Oikawa’s forehead is red, tears brimming in his eyes from the loud smack! that met his face hard. But apparently not hard enough seeing as how he still manages to let out a, “nice throw,” over teary eyes and two thumbs up. Y/N thinks her boyfriend might be an idiot.

A/N. Very very very short, I know. I haven’t been writing as much bc I don’t have inspiration for anything??? But I’ll get back into it soon. For now, thank you for reading!! I AM working on the two requests I got, but those might take some time!! Sorry for the wait lol. - chuu

[thefrostrihata]

Unposted Draft - Angel Town

I’m stuck today and I just really like Furihata’s interaction with Nijimura :D though this will never make it to my Angel Town story as I decided to tell the story from Akashis’s point of view instead of from Furihata’s. So I guess no harm in just posting it!

-

Furihata let his mind wander as the last customer grabbed the drink and bid him goodbye, saying “Thanks, Suga,” and disappeared towards the rest of his day that he had to face. It stung a little, but Furihata believed it comes from a good heart, so he accepted their greetings like he accepted the fact that he has to go through 24 hours a day.

His hand mindlessly grabbed the thick car brochure that somebody left on the table a few days ago, reading its content. 

“Why the heck is she still calling you Suga?” 

A voice was starting Furihata, taking his attention away from the beautifully-crafted copywriting on the car brochure he is currently reading behind the counter. The man who spoke was sitting in one of the few chairs in the shop, making himself at home. His black hair and his sleeveless cyan shirt damp from sweat.  Clearly, he just had his morning run.

“Shuuzo!” Furihata exclaimed. “How long have you been in here?”

“Since that last customer you served,” the man said, the corner of his lips tugged a little, looking amused. It’s Nijimura Shuuzo, Furihata’s old roommate and now good friend. A guy who apparently went all the way to this secluded coffee shop in the furthest corner of Sunset Drive, four blocks away from where he lived and two blocks away from his usual morning run route. 

“You’ve been creeping in on me since then? Wow.”

“Kinda want to see how long until you notice that I’m here. It’s been ten minutes, if you’re curious. You’re really fixated in that brochure. Are you considering buying a car? Or is it just you haven’t kicked the habit of reading any paper with English words written on ‘em?” he asked, eyes locked on the car brochure that Furihata read just a while ago.

“What? Oh! No, God, no! Don’t be ridiculous. Could sell my soul and still wouldn’t be able to afford any of this. It’s just… I’m… Somebody left it and... yeah, okay, you’re right. Still haven’t kicked the habit.”

Nijimura scowled, which is usually a normal occurrence because he’s scowling 80% of the time. But today, he is scowling extra hard, like Furihata just blurted out rocket science out of nowhere. “I don’t know why you’re still doing that. You’ve been here for years. You can read English Classics without opening a dictionary too much. Your english is almost perfect. Better than Teppei, at least. And he even attends language class.”

The brown-haired boy only smiled upon hearing Nijimura’s compliment. “Would you like to order anything, sir?” he asked. “We have shaved iced latte with cat-shaped foam for today’s special. Please don’t order it. The foam is such a pain in the ass to make.”

Nijimura laughed a little. “Fine, I won’t bother the busy barista today,” he said. “Ice chocolate, please. With a little bit of milk, less ice, and oh, don’t forget to come to my party tomorrow,” he continued, as if the last part is not a different thing entirely. 

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, not even glancing towards the older man as he made his order.

“Part business, part reunion,” he answered. “An old kouhai from Junior High is in the country, was gonna hang out with him casually until my old geezer learned who the man is. He insisted on making a proper get-together that will impress him without making it look too obvious. So yeah, I thought a reunion would have a nice ring to it.”

Furihata hesitated for a moment. Shuuzo always liked dragging him into his circle, including him in even the tiniest bit of his social life. Furihata always thought that it would stop after Nijimura is dating Kiyoshi, but apparently, he was wrong. Nijimura always inquired him to join them, even on their dates. 

“Don’t make that face, Kouki. it’s not a full-on party. Just close friends. So far it’s just Taiga and Tetsu, Tatsuya, and Teppei. You’re in right? It’s gonna be super fun, I swear.”

“I don’t exactly have a free day tomorrow, though,” he offered as he pushed the tumbler to Nijimura’s side of the table. “Translation work.”

“When is the deadline?”

Furihata shrugged. “Wednesday next week. But on Monday I’m working a double shift and on Tuesday I took a night shift at the gas station.”

Nijimura thought about it a little. “Bring your homework, then.” he said. “I promise that if you want to be left alone, you’ll get that. But you definitely need to join. Because you know what? At this party, no English allowed.”

Nijimura smirked on the last part, definitely seeing how Furihata perked up. He knew so damn well that Furihata could not resist a party where he could speak Japanese. Because though Furihata’s English is getting better to the point that it’s almost flawless, he could never pass up an opportunity to speak in his Mother Language. Especially after two years of living in America. 

“Did you tell Taiga that?” Furihata laughed. “He would not be happy.”

“Taiga could bail for all I care,” Nijimura laughed as he grabbed his tumbler, muttering a thank you. “ I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Your shift ended at the usual time, right?” 

Furihata only nodded, and just like that, Nijimura bid his goodbye.

[srsly-messed-up-fruitloop]

Tug of War (Ch 3)

ch 1 - prev - next

Word Count: 1,495

(AKA the random Christmas chapter)

The next week, Danny was greeted by the sight of a very pissed off Sam giving Tucker the silent treatment. He had warned him.

Sitting down in his seat, Danny hesitantly asked, “Hey Sam, how was your trip?”

Her vicious glare redirected to him. “Danny, how could you let him install the grill?”

Read on AO3 or under the cut

“Uh…” He looked over to Tucker, who looked like he was about to cry. “I told him it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I tried, Sam.”

Sam glowered at him for a moment longer before sighing. “Fine. Trip was alright. But I’m so behind on everything now.”

He took notice of her slightly tanned face. “Didn’t get much time to study?”

“No, ugh. My parents wouldn’t leave me alone for a second.”

“Sounds like they’re gonna miss you when you’re gone off to college,” he remarked, remembering his own parents.

“I won’t be gone off to college if they don’t let me study,” she huffed.

Right then, Mr. Lancer strolled in the classroom wearing a Christmas sweater with “TO BE OR NOT TO BE JOLLY” knitted on the front.

Danny couldn’t help the scornful look that appeared on his face. He never could stand the holidays. Every year, when stores started playing their annoyingly repetitive Christmas playlists, every channel on TV kickstarted their broadcast of the same five Christmas movies, and everybody in his life began to treat each other with an exaggerated cheer, he just wanted to vomit. Call him a Scrooge, the Grinch, he doesn’t care. He’d rather go to sleep and wake up in January than go through it all again.

Later that day after school, Danny questioned his entire purpose as he weaved around the mall’s annoying Christmas decorations (more like obstacles) to chase Spectra. Apparently, for the last week, she has been making kids miserable by telling them Santa Claus isn’t real. Which...well, despite how true she is, it still isn’t right for her to relish in their despair.

“Aww Danny, you’re so boring. You won’t even let me have some fun, it’s almost Christmas,” Spectra teased as she shot an ectoblast behind her towards him.

Danny grunted, barely dodging it. “I think you’re misunderstanding the definition of fun. One, in any dictionary you will not find ‘making children miserable’ under ‘fun’. Two, nothing associated with Christmas is fun.”

“Ah right, I almost forgot how much of a Scrooge you are. But we know you act this way to hide something deeper. Tell me Danny, why do you bury those traumatic memor—”

“Shut up Spectra!” Danny yelled before shooting a blast back at her.

She easily dodged it, and smirked at how easily ruffled the boy got. His frustration was so delicious! Spotting Bertrand in his human form, quietly approaching with a string of colourful fairy lights behind him, her smile grew even wider.

Before Danny could react, Bertrand tossed the fairy lights like a lasso, catching his leg and slamming him to the ground. The mall tile instantly cracked upon impact.

Bertrand harshly pulled a Santa hat over the boy’s head before flying off with his companion, cackling.

Wes filmed the entire exchange with his brand new camera while he hid behind a trash receptacle. He couldn’t help but wince when Fenton hit the tile.

“Eh, he’s a ghost, he’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself, zooming in on Fenton’s form as he slowly got up.

Fenton yanked the hat off his head and grumbled, “I hate Christmas,” before chucking it to the ground and taking off to confront the two ghosts again.

Wes stopped the camera and frowned. Fenton hates Christmas?

How could anyone—okay, sure, no doubt the concept of Santa actually came from Satan and the holidays are practically an excuse in today’s society for corporations to milk more money from their consumers. But, even he himself couldn’t help but feel a little happier during the holidays!

Of course, this only further proves Fenton’s true identity. Only a ghost could feel so hateful towards such a merry time of the year, right?

Suddenly, an imaginary light bulb lit up above Wes’ head. His eyes locked on the nearest store selling Christmas decorations and he naughtily grinned.

~

If Danny could have it his way, he’d just spend the entire day lying in bed. His back was so sore from the fight with Spectra and Bertrand yesterday. Even his self-healing abilities weren’t enough to ease the pain.

Of course, he had to show up today, he had a math test. And a physics lab that counted for twenty percent of his grade. He couldn’t even tell himself that he could rest after school, his entire week was jam-packed with assignment deadlines. It was the last week before winter break but to Danny, it felt like an eternity would pass before he’d get to relax.

He was so looking forward to the break. Don’t get him wrong, he still despised everything to do with Christmas. But he’d happily welcome a break any day. Ghosts also generally calm down around this time because of their truce. Although, Spectra yesterday definitely was an exception.

Before he pondered any longer on that thought, Danny sluggishly opened his locker and froze at what he saw. Every inch of it was covered in loud red and green Christmas wrapping paper, flashing multi-coloured fairy lights lined the door, and ornaments hung from the two hooks. He went to grab his physics textbook and growled when he realized all of his books were also covered in wrapping paper.

“Woah there Danny, I thought you weren’t much of the festive type?”

Danny whipped his head towards the sound of Sam’s voice. “I didn’t do this! Wes—he even wrapped my textbooks!”

It only infuriated him even more when he noticed Sam trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s not funny!”

However those words were lost to her when she couldn’t contain it anymore. Danny scowled and began ripping off the paper on his textbooks.

A few moments later, Sam finally calmed down just when he started to harshly tug on the fairy lights. “You know, even though it’s pretty cheesy to me, people do this. The whole decorating lockers kind of thing. Heck, Paulina still maintains that shrine of you in hers. Maybe Wes just really likes Christmas?”

“But I don’t! It’s my locker too,” he angrily insisted as he continued to pull.

“True. You should still talk to him before doing that,” she said, watching him grip an ornament as if he wanted to crush it.

He paused. “Why are you even trying to defend Wes when you still won’t talk to Tucker?”

She instantly shot an indignant look at him. “That is totally different! I told him not to do it, yet he did it anyways!”

“ You should still talk to him ,” Danny repeated in a mocking tone.

“Ugh! Fine, go and tear down those decorations!” she snapped before stomping off towards their first class.

He coolly observed her retreating form for a moment before crushing the ornament in his hand.

~

Danny and Sam were already sitting at their lunch table toying with their food and complaining about all their assignments when Tucker walked up to them with a steaming tupperware container. Sam’s look instantly melded into a glare.

“Tucker seriously? I already told you to get rid of that grill and now you’re here making food for yourself?“

“Sam. Here, take this.” Tucker calmly offered the container.

“You know I don—“ she stopped mid-sentence when she noticed it was filled with grilled zucchini slices.

“Try one,” Tucker urged. “I promise, I cleaned the grill properly before cooking these.”

Danny was almost sure she was going to reject it. Except, she grudgingly reached out and grabbed one with her spork.

“What did you put on this?”

He shrugged, “Olive oil, some salt, black pepper, herbs, garlic and onion powder, oh and balsamic vinegar. Just like how you taught me.”

She eyed the slice for a moment longer before taking a bite.

“Look, by the end of lunch, if you still don’t want it, I’ll uninstall the grill, alright?” Tucker proposed.

Sam seemed much calmer now and Danny couldn’t tell if she liked the zucchini or not. “Tucker, I’m mad at you because you didn’t listen to me. It’s our locker we share together, we’re supposed to make decisions together.“

“I’m sorry Sam. I just...”

“Listen, you promise that you’ll take full blame when a teacher finds out?”

“No teacher is goi—”

“Tucker.”

“Alright, I promise.”

This time, Sam smiled and went to grab another slice of zucchini. “What do you say about me bringing in a spice rack tomorrow?”

Tucker looked at her in disbelief for a second before responding, “Heck yeah!”

Meanwhile, Danny was grinning. His friends will always have their squabbles. But somehow, they manage to work it out in the end every time.

Abandoning his own bland lunch, he picked up his spork just when Tucker began to dig in.

[jewels2876]

Sweet Success - Chapter 4

Square filled: Bakery AU - @star-spangled-bingo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, kids Isabella and Rebecca and James

Word Count: 1027

Warnings:fluff, teenaged feelings, mild swearing, sassiness

Pics are not mine!

Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Sweet and Salty

“Tony, I’m sorry,” Steve tried to stay calm, while from the other end of the line Tony was screaming. “Tony, I’m working on it, I promise!”

“Rogers, I needed this yesterday. I needed this idea three days ago!” Steve held the phone away from his ear. “I can’t trust you anymore to get the job done. I’m sorry Rogers.” The line went dead.

Steve threw his cell phone muttering “shit” over and over. He glowered as the screen cracked as it met the wood floor. It was his own damn fault but he couldn’t help the feelings of frustration and annoyance. What the fuck is wrong with me, Steve wondered for the second time that day.

Earlier that morning, he had found James standing over a cookbook that once belonged to Nat; Steve had teased James about needing it, which only angered his son. Steve’s mouth gaped as James had stormed off, wondering why he was harassing his own son. Just like my dad, Steve had thought, before he shivered. “Ok, note to self, stop becoming my Pops,” Steve had said to himself aloud.

A door squeaked open. James came in and saw the damaged cell phone; he rolled his eyes and steeled himself for more teasing as he approached the open study door. “Dad? You ok?” James held out the phone to Steve.

“Buddy, I’m not okay,” Steve met his son’s gaze. “I lost the Stark job. I had a week and I blew my deadline; I took my anger out on the phone. And I’m sorry that I gave you a hard time this morning. I know better.”

James’s smirk turned into a soft smile. “It’s ok Dad. I get it.” James dropped his gaze for a moment before looking back. “I just wanted to finish the cupcakes and didn’t want to bother you. The bake sale’s tomorrow.”

Steve’s face flushed then blanched. “Tomorrow? Come on, we can do this!” He stood up from behind his desk. James put a hand up to stop him.

“I don’t wanna do it Dad,” James whispered. “I had just been kind of hoping you and I could do something together ya know? Like we used to?”

Steve pulled his son into a bear hug. “I really screwed this up huh?” James nodded against his chest. “We can still do it though. It doesn’t have to be crazy or wild, just something we do together, okay?” Steve pulled back to give James a watery smile.

“Mom, are you sure this tastes ok?” Isabella held out a small wooden spoon. You grabbed a different spoon, mentally agreeing to do more dishes to avoid spreading any germs, and scraped a bit off. You rolled the icing in your mouth and smiled.

“Izzy, that’s fantastic! You’re a quick study at this. Are you considering culinary school after graduation next year?’

“Maybe?”

You chuckled at her tone. “Just as you long as you make it a family business, instead of becoming my competition, I think we’ll be okay,” you joked. “You definitely got my baking skills; if you have your dad’s head for business you’ll be a force to be reckoned with!”

Rebecca piped up from the kitchen table, her science project spread around her. “And she can marry James and live happily ever after.”

“Shut up!”

“No you!”

“Girls!” You looked between the two of them in mock horror. “When did you start noticing boys???” You let a giggle escape. Rebecca quickly followed suit, laughing with you while Isabella glared at both of you.

“For your information, mother, I started noticing boys way before you knew I started noticing boys.” Isabella suddenly sounded much older than her age. “Besides, James isn’t exactly asking me out.” She turned her attention back to the cupcakes that still needed icing.

You brushed Isabella’s hair off her shoulder and tucked it into her shirt. “Great, I knew one of you would be like me. I just thought it’d be Becca,” you gave the younger girl a smirk who made a face back at you. You turned back to Isabella. “Give him a chance. Maybe a cupcake will win his heart?”

Isabella groaned. “Duh! Why do you think I wanted to do this? His dad’s this amazing baker and I thought if I could show him that I was too, he’d…” Isabella’s hand griping the spatula flung icing behind and around her. You squeezed Isabella’s shoulder to prevent any bigger mess.

“We’re more than halfway done with our icing,” You assessed the array of icing on the kitchen island. “Grab a bag and tip you want to start with.” Isabella set the spatula down and followed your instructions. She sorted through all of the tips before settling on the wide-mouth tip. You nodded in approval. “That’s an ‘easy’ one but that would do well for our caramel icing, when we sprinkle the sea salt on top.” You handed the bowl of flavored icing to Isabella and let her scoop some into her bag, getting it just right before starting on the dozen cupcakes in front of her. “Go nice and slow; there’s no need to rush. Do a couple, and then sprinkle on the salt while it’s still a bit wet.” Isabella set to her task while Rebecca looked up from her worksheet.

“Mom? I won’t need biology in the real world right?” she moaned. “If I have to draw one more pair of animals…”

You chuckled at your daughter’s theatrics. “Depends. Biology isn’t just about animals; do you still want to be a doctor?”

“Nope! I’m going into the family business. Stark will give me dad’s old job, right?”

You howled. “Becs, do you like math more than science?”

“Oh hell… sorry mom, I mean, heck no! Math sucks.”

“Better stick to this family business then,” you teased as you came behind her to give her a gentle hug. You admired Rebecca’s artistic eye; even you weren’t this talented at her age. Your drawing only improved as you had practiced. “Actually…”

Isabella grinned at the picture you two made at the kitchen table. “Um, if she’s coming into this family business we’d need a numbers person.”

To Be Continued

I would love any feedback/reblogs/love in general

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[wistfulcynic]

Three Non-Blondes 1 / 4

I needed a spell of distraction from reality and the result is this bit of silliness. Dedicated to @katie-dub, just because she is amazing and deserves all the nice things. I hope it makes you smile.

Summary: Mary Margaret is certain that her fiancé's sister Emma and his best friend Killian are perfect for each other. What she doesn't know is that they think so too. Matchmaking hijinks ensue. 

Rating: T

AO3

Part One: 

David turned away from the bar and moved carefully back to the booth where his friends were waiting, balancing the three beers in his hands with an expertise born of long experience. He set them on the table with a flourish. “Not a drop spilled,” he said proudly.  

“Well done, mate,” said Robin, picking up one of the glasses and raising it in tribute. David’s grin flashed brightly then dimmed as he noticed that someone was missing. 

“Where’s Jones?”

Robin inclined his head towards the far corner of the room. Ah, thought David, following his friend’s gaze. Of course. Killian was standing with one hip against the vintage jukebox that was their neighbourhood pub’s pride and joy, leaning into the space of a willowy brunette, a wicked grin creasing his face as he whispered something in her ear. “Well, that’s him out for the night,” said David, sliding into the booth. “At least we get to drink his beer.” 

“Every cloud,” grinned Robin, and they clinked their glasses together in toast. 

A minute later their dastardly plans for Killian’s beer were foiled when the man himself appeared in the booth. 

“Ah, is that for me? Excellent.” Killian picked up the glass and downed half of it before his friends could speak. 

“What are you doing back here, mate?” asked Robin, “It looked like you were in there.” 

“Hmmm?” Killian looked distracted, then seemed to remember. “Oh, right. Couldn’t be bothered.” 

“Couldn’t be bothered?” repeated Robin in disbelief. He glanced at the brunette who was now sitting at the bar, arms crossed beneath a generous bosom, soft lips pouting, stunningly beautiful and clearly insulted. “She looks worth a bit of bother to me.” 

“Well, you’re welcome to have a go,” smirked Killian, laughing as Robin blanched. 

“I have my own brunette at home, thank you very much,” he said. And even the idea of cheating on her terrifies me, he very carefully didn’t say.

“So do I,” piped up David. “You know, you might consider keeping one around for a while, Killian. They’re a nice thing to come home to.” 

“Thanks for your concern, mates, but I prefer to remain free of any romantic entanglements, brunette or otherwise,” said Killian firmly. “That one had marriage-y eyes.” He gave an elaborate shudder. “Not worth it.” 

“‘Marriage-y eyes’?” repeated David. “Really?”

“Yes, really, Dave, and you know exactly what I mean by the expression. Mary Margaret has the worst case of marriage-y eyes I’ve ever seen.” 

“Maybe that’s because we’re about to get married.” 

“Aye, the only appropriate time to have them. And I’m sure we can all agree that two minutes into a conversation with a stranger who’s just trying to put a song on the jukebox is not an appropriate time to be very obviously choosing the place settings in one’s head, hmm?”

David and Robin had to agree that ‘marriage-y eyes’ in those circumstances seemed a bit premature. 

“There we are then,” said Killian, returning his attention to his beer. 

The men drank in silence for a moment. 

“Although, now I think about it, you haven’t picked anyone up in a long time,” said David. 

“Apropos of nothing,” Robin teased. 

Killian heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Why this sudden lurid interest in my sex life, lads, are you not getting enough at home?” he taunted. “Need to live vicariously through my exploits?”

“Not at all,” said David. 

“Quite the contrary,” said Robin. 

“We’re just worried you’re not getting enough,” said David, with a grin that would have been pure evil on a less wholesome face. 

“Your solicitude is touching,” said Killian drily, “But I assure you I am not suffering for lack of female company or attention, even without a brunette waiting at home. Now can we talk about something else, please?”

David frowned. He knew Killian well enough to spot when he was lying, and he wasn’t. So where was he getting all this female company and attention? Certainly not from the bar, not for weeks. Months even. His frown deepened as he tried to remember the last time he’d seen Killian go home with a woman. 

Just then the door of the pub opened and a wide grin spread across Killian’s face. David turned to see what he was grinning at and felt his own face split in a delighted smile. 

“Looks like they weren’t content to wait at home after all,” Killian teased. “Modern women, eh?” He stood to allow Mary Margaret to slide into the booth next to David as Regina took the seat next to Robin and immediately began making out with him.

“She’s had a lot to drink,” said Mary Margaret, by way of explanation. 

Killian raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I do need a brunette,” he muttered.  

“Highly recommended,” said David as he kissed his fiancée. “Where’s Emma?” he asked her. “I thought she was with you tonight?”

“She was. She said something about third wheels, or fifth ones, and went home about half an hour ago.” Killian’s eyes widened with what looked like alarm and he grabbed his phone to check the time. Mary Margaret didn’t notice. “But she’ll see us at your mom’s tomorrow,” she informed David. 

“Well,” said Killian, draining the last of his beer. “I need to be off myself. Goodnight, lovers.” 

“What, you’re going already? But it’s so early!” David protested. 

“Yeah, come on Killian, I’ve hardly seen you these past few months,” said Mary Margaret. 

“Ah, yes, well, as much as I hate to agree with the lovely Swan, I also do not relish being the third wheel, or even the fifth one,” said Killian, glancing at his phone again. “And I have, uh, an early morning.” 

“You work from home, you can set your own hours.” 

“I have a deadline. Sorry, lads, I have to go.” His hand flexed on his phone and his body language was tense. 

“Well, all right,” said David, wondering what the heck could be going on with his friend, and if Killian might be persuaded to talk about it. For a man so skilled with words he didn’t talk a lot about himself. “But you’re coming to my mom’s for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Ah,” Killian had been easing towards the door but now he turned back and shifted his feet uncomfortably, scratching behind his ear. “I think not, mate. I prefer not to cross swords with your sister when there’s family china that could end up as collateral damage.” 

“Don’t be an idiot, my mom knows better than to use the good china when you come over,” grinned David. “And I’m sure Emma can be persuaded to play nice for an afternoon.” 

“Well, we’ll see then,” said Killian with one of the bland, conciliatory smiles he hid behind when he really didn’t want to commit to something. He shrugged into his jacket and with a small bow to David and Mary Margaret and another raised eyebrow at the tangle of limbs and smacking noises that was Regina and Robin, he was gone. 

David kissed Mary Margaret’s temple and she snuggled into his side. “I wish Killian didn’t feel like he had to avoid Emma,” he said. “They may never be friends, but I’d like for them at least to be able to be in the same room together.” 

“Oh, David,” sighed Mary Margaret. “You are a police detective, it’s your job to spot clues. How can you be so unobservant about your own best friend?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Killian’s got a… well, a thing for Emma.” 

“A thing?” repeated David, disbelievingly. 

“Yeah. A crush, the hots, whatever you want to call it. He’s into her.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Practically since the moment they met. I can’t believe you’ve never noticed it.” 

“Really?”

“Oh for goodness sake, David! He can’t keep his eyes off her! And whenever she talks to another man he clenches his jaw so hard that this little muscle in it starts to jump around.” She paused, taking a sip of David’s beer. “It’s pretty attractive, actually, in a sort of broody, Heathcliff way.” 

“WHAT?”

Mary Margaret smiled sweetly and patted his hand. “There there,” she said placatingly, and kissed his cheek. “I feel for Killian though,” she continued. “He’s really very sensitive under all that swagger.” She ignored David’s snort of disbelief. “It must hurt him badly, the way she treats him.” 

“Wait, are you talking about Emma and Killian?” Regina broke in. 

“Yes we are, and welcome to the conversation.” Mary Margaret turned her sweet smile on her stepsister. “You’ve got lipstick on your chin,” she said.  

Regina grabbed a napkin and wiped her chin, then handed it to Robin. “On my chin as well?” he asked. 

“Best just to wipe your whole face, I think,” smirked David. Regina rolled her eyes. 

“Back to guyliner and the blonde—” 

“Hey, that’s my sister—” 

“That sounds like an 80s buddy cop show—”

“I always thought she was the one who was into him.” Regina declared, glaring at the both of them. 

“Really?” Mary Margaret leaned across the table, accidentally elbowing David in her haste. 

“Well, yes, isn’t it obvious?” It was never clear if Regina had to make an effort to be so condescending or if it just came naturally. Mary Margaret had learned to ignore it. “If she weren’t interested in him she’d be a lot nicer,” Regina explained. “She’s nice to men she has no interest in. Look at poor Graham.” 

They all nodded in agreement. Poor Graham. 

“So she pushes Killian away because she wants him so much. I mean, she’s hardly going to come on to him the way all the other women do, not Emma.” 

“That’s a good point,” Mary Margaret concurred. 

David was still wincing from the impact of his beloved’s sharp cubital joint on his ribs. “Hold on, let me get this straight,” he wheezed. “You think that Emma and Killian are both into each other, but they don’t know it because she’s mean to him and he avoids her?” 

“That’s about the size of it, I think,” said Mary Margaret. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She and Regina locked eyes and nodded conspiratorially, and David began to panic. 

“If you’re thinking that we should play matchmaker, stop thinking it,” he said firmly. “I’m not entirely sure I want Killian dating my sister.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, David, they’re perfect for each other,” said Mary Margaret, and Regina nodded. Even Robin seemed to agree. “Now, let’s talk strategy.” Mary Margaret’s voice was both exited and edged with steel. There was no stopping her now, David knew. “First, David, you have to get Killian to your mom’s tomorrow. Then we…” 

***

On the other side of town, Killian, blissfully unaware of his friends’ plotting, stepped out of an Uber and closed the door carefully so as not to disturb his neighbours. They already disapproved of him more than enough. “Thanks, mate,” he said, waving to the driver. The car took off and Killian bounded up the steps to his door, eager anticipation making his hands tremble as he unlocked it. Once inside he kicked off his boots and flung his jacket on a hook without his usual attention to tidiness, then ran to his bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. When he opened the door his face lit up with a bright grin. 

“Took you long enough,” said the naked woman in his bed. 

“Aye, I had a bit of a job to shake off the lads this evening.” He smirked suggestively at her. “They’re concerned I’m not getting enough sex.” 

“Well,” she purred, eyeing him appreciatively as he shed his clothes, “We’ll have to remedy that. Did they have any suggestions?”

He crawled into the bed and pressed her back against the pillows, kissing her deeply. “They seem to think I need to get myself a brunette to come home to,” he said when they broke apart several minutes later, nuzzling her neck. 

“I suppose we could always role play.” She gasped as he sucked on her pulse point, her fingertips trailing down his side, enjoying the way his muscles leapt at her touch. 

“No need, love.” He pulled back and smiled into her eyes. “I have everything I could ever want right here.” 

She smiled back. “Me too.” 

[limitededitionsanderssidesblog]

Speech Impediment - Chapter 3

Ships: Romantic Logicality, pining prinxiety, platonic dlamp 

Summary: Halloween is just a few days away and the deadline for his project is nearing. Deceit wants nothing more than to work on his story, but things get in the way when the others invite him to a Halloween costume party. There’s only one problem... Deceit’s never been invited to a party. In other news Dexter discovers he hated almost every single type of alcohol in existence except one.

AO3 - Here

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Dexter sat comfortably at his desk as he worked the hours of his Wednesday afternoon away on his creative writing project. His snake, Dee Dee, made herself comfortable wrapped around his shoulders, content with watching her owner work on his computer.

After two all-nighters and much help from his new friends, Dexter was able to come up with a story idea. It was under the prompt ‘it was all just a dream’ to write a mystery, horror, suspense short story. It took place with a woman named Abigail who woke up in a small, coffin like, box; a voice speaking to her through a speaker directing her to escape with only a few tools before all the air was sucked out. When she made it out she was in another box and so on.

He was at the part when Abigail was about to drown as water filled the room from the bottom when the door opened, and in bounded Patton with his normal energetic behavior. Not long ago, last week, Dexter learned that Patton had ADHD, so the way he acted was no longer surprising to him and now expected.

“Hey, hey Dexter! Dee Dee!” The bubbly artist greeted with all the cheer of a thousand saints.

Dexter turned around in his chair and said hello before turning back to his story, determined to finish this chapter today so he could edit it tomorrow. One chapter to finish, another to start, and two chapters to edit before the due date in five days.

Patton, noticing his work ethic, strode over to peer over the smaller, younger, man’s shoulder to read his writing so far. But before he could get past the first sentence, Dexter covered the screen with his arms, crying “Please read it, it’s finished!”

“Sorry, there kiddo,” Patton said slightly dejected, “I was just curious.”

A pang of guilt seeped into the writer’s confused heart, regretting the tone he used with his first friend-adoptive-dad-person-thing.

“I’m not sorry, Patton. I just love it when people read my work before I proof read it myself.”

“That’s okay, but can I read it after you’re done?” Pat asked before gasping and hopping up and down in an excited dance, “Maybe I can be you’re editor!”

“...But you adore horror.”

“Oh yeah... maybe Virgil can be your editor? He’s getting his bachelors in poetry so he know English stuffs.”

Dexter thought about it for a second. He’s never been around Virgil with just the two of them, but he was able to pick up on the emo’s love for creepy and dark things. But his horror novels might trigger his anxiety, and Dexter didn’t want to give him a reason to hate him.

“I won’t think about it.”

“Yay!” Patton cheered and pulled Dexter into a hug, being careful not to squish Dee Dee. Dexter awkwardly stood there for a moment, still not used to receiving physical contact out of kindness let alone how to react to it. Eventually he settled for a pat on the head. Patton seemed pleased with the gesture and let go.

By the time dinner rolled around, Dexter had finished his chapter, saved it, then turned off his computer. About thirty minutes ago Patton had ordered pizza from Big Julius and invited the rest of the gang over. Logan had arrived first, but the two allowed him to work in peace as Logan read his textbook, and Patton played an assortment of games in his lap. When a call from the bottom floor came, Patton was notified that their pizzas had arrived, so he and his boyfriend left to retrieve it, coming back with both Roman and Virgil in tow, who had arrived around the same time as the pizza guy.

By the time they walked in with food and drinks-- cola for Virgil and Patton, wine for Logan, and beer for Roman --he had already put away his computer and set Dee Dee back in her terrarium; the poor little noodle got scared around too many people. Dexter had never had alcohol before, but he decided to give it a try to see if he’d like it. He knew he wouldn’t be pressured as there were two who didn’t drink, and that made him feel more at ease.

“Let’s get this party started bitches!”

“Roman language!”

“Don’t bother Pat, the idiot’s already in his own little world.”

Whelp, seemed like the others were already tipped off, if not from alcohol then from sugar.

“Mom! Virgil’s being mean!”

“For the one hundredth and fifty third time, don’t call me mom.”

Dexter sat on his bed with a small smile as he watched them interact with each other. Most times he was content just watching them talk and not saying anything himself, like now. When they all filled in, heading for their now usual spots-- Virgil and Roman on Patton’s bed, Logan and Patton on the beanbag, and him on his bed --Roman finally acknowledged him, handing him a bottle of beer.

“Here, it’s my favorite brand, and I went for something soft. But if you don’t like it I’ve brought an assortment of different types of liquor for you to try.”

“And I had to by it all.” Patton sighed, being the only one who was twenty-one in the group. Logan would be twenty-one in November, which was just around the corner so...

SHIT! Dexter would have to get him something! But he’s never bought someone a birthday present before. He only ever wrote poems or drew pictures for his parents that would make them even more afraid of their son. What the dang diddly heck could he get him?

Before he cold panic anymore, Dexter pushed all his dread down to feign composure. Taking the bottle in his hand and taking a brave swig, but nearly spat it out as soon as the liquid touched his tongue.

“It’s so sweet.” Dexter had never tasted anything so bitter in his life, it was worse than dried plums, his most hated food.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d like the sweet stuff, But this one taste like apples.” Roman said and took the bottle away, giving him a new one. Dexter tried it.

“It’s so smooth against the throat.” It was like he was drinking acid.

“Maybe you’re not a beer person, let’s try something else.”

And so they went through a list of different types of alcohol; some wine, nope; champagne, burn it; whiskey, pure toxic waste; vodka, how is this from a potato? Now it all came down to the last drink, Dexter already felt light headed and dizzy, but he was willing to try one last time. If he didn’t like it then he’d just join the ranks with Patton and Virgil and have soda.

“I don’t really drink this stuff, so I bought just a small bottle in case you didn’t want it.” Roman said setting a small bottle of ale into his palm. With a breath in and a gulp, Dexter took a chance and had a small sip. It was pleasant. It was sweet, but not overly so; it was sooth down the throat with a nice burning feeling; the aftertaste was bitter, but he oddly enjoyed it.

“This is horrible.”

“Really?” Logan asked, a light glass of peach wine in his palm.

“Nope, would never drink this again.” He confirmed and took another sip.

“Well good, Jackal and Lied, finally you like something.” Roman sighed, glancing at all the rejected drinks off to the side.

“Roman be nice, Dexter doesn’t have to like the alcohol you do.” Patton lectured him gently, mouth full of pizza. 

Now that his choice of drink was settle, they settled into light banter and talking, a detective crime show on in the background. Dexter spent a while just drinking water, trying to re-hydrate from all those drinks.

He noted off to the side that Roman was eating the vegan pizza and Virgil was eating the meat lover’s pizza. He chuckled at the irony that two people so different could like each other. Roman was really loud and obvious about his affection for the precious emo that needs to be protected, but Virgil was much quieter. Over the past couple weeks since that day in the coffee shop Dexter had spotted multiple signs that Virgil was crushing on the regal boy just as much as the prince was on him. That only made Dexter wonder if Virgil thought that he was being a flirt, or if he took him seriously and chose to ignore his advances on purpose. Whatever the case was, he just wished they would stop being dumb and get together, their needless pining was beginning to drive him insane, and he had only known them for a little less than three months; Dexter can only imagine how Logan and Patton feel.

Eventually the conversation shifted away from whatever it previously was, Dexter accidentally spaced off and missed everything, and turned to the upcoming holiday.

“So a theater buddy of mine invited me to his costume party this Saturday and said I could bring some friends. How ‘bout it?” Roman inquired of them, looking extremely hopeful in Virgil’s direction.

“I’d love too! Logan wouldn’t that be fun? We could go as a matching pair!” Patton hastily agreed, loving the sound of a Halloween party.

“I don’t object.” Lo replied with a loving smile, nuzzling his forehead against Patton’s, earning a giggle from the latter. “How about you Virge?”

“I dunno, large crowds aren’t really my thing.” He said uncomfortably, playing with the zippers on his jacket’s sleeves. Roman immediately lost his smile, moving in his spot on the bed to better face him.

“You won’t have to talk to anyone, we’ll all be there and if you want to leave I’ll take you home.” He compromised eagerly.

Virgil still looked unsure, but was unable to resist the magnetic pull of Roman’s puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine.” He caved, “But only for a bit.” Roman readily agreed, giving Virge a large hug that he didn’t try to escape from. Virgil may have thought he was slick, but Dexter noticed his grin and blush. Goodness, he wished he had a camera, his ship was finally leaving the harbor.

“What about you Dexter?” Logan spoke up again, turning all eyes in the room to him.

“Yes I’ll go, I’ve been to tons of parties before.”

“Ah, come on kiddo, it’ll be fun! And just like Virgil, you won’t have to push yourself.” Patton told him, trying to persuade him.

Dexter took a second to ponder. He’s never been invited to a party before, not even for birthdays, so he didn’t know what to do. His friends would be there to help, but he still felt like he’d mess up somehow. He had a project due in five days, but it was nearly done, and perhaps he could work at the party as well. He still had to think of a present for Logan in eight days, but he could ask Patton for ideas and stop by the shops next week. He could make it work, but Dexter couldn’t help but feel like he was about to agree to torturing himself. He’ll see how it goes.

“No.”

.

.

I orginally was going to end it with chapter two, but i just loved it too much to let it go so soon. Plus you peeps seemed it like it too. Tell me what’cha think. See Ya!

Taglist:

@noneed4thistbh @romanasanders @fuckingemoace @bunny222 @sea-blue-child @astraastro @helloitstimetofight @blue-wolfbane @applecannibal 

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] SolidS Drama CD Vol. 4 - Kumo no Mukou ni - Track 2

Here’s the second track~ 

Under the cut as usual, enjoy!

SolidS – Kumo no Mukou ni Drama CD Track 2

  (Tsubasa’s humming and drinking coffee)

(door opens and Rikka walks in)

RIKKA: Oh? I can smell the rich aroma of coffee~

TSUBASA: Yep, that’s right! I borrowed Shiki’s most prized possession.

TSUBASA: It’s to get me pumped up before work.

RIKKA: I guess Shiki won’t get mad if it’s for that.

RIKKA: (he puts a bag down) Alright then… I’m done preparing~

TSUBASA: Great work~

TSUBASA: Good luck with your work today, Rikka. You’re going to Kyoto all of a sudden with Dai-chan for work, right?

RIKKA: Yeah. Haiduki-san contacted us this morning and he said he’ll pick us up from here in a while. After that we’ll be riding a bullet train from Tokyo Station.

RIKKA: We’ll be there until the day after tomorrow. I know there were certain circumstances but it really was too sudden, huh?

TSUBASA: I see. Did someone suddenly fall ill or something? You’re gonna participate in an event, weren’t you?

RIKKA: That’s what I heard. There’ll be a kimono exhibition and then an interview. And then after that there’s a photo shoot around the city I think…

RIKKA: He said he’ll explain to us in detail on the bullet train.

TSUBASA: Spring in Kyoto, huh~ I feel like it’ll make for great pictures!

RIKKA: That’s right~ (sighs) I kinda wish I could just go sightseeing though.

TSUBASA: Totally! I wonder if the cherry blossoms are in bloom already~

RIKKA: I wonder. Maybe they’re still buds just like here in Tokyo.

TSUBASA: Ah, Rikka, there’s some coffee ready. Want some?

RIKKA: Yes, thank you.

RIKKA: Your mornings sure are elegant, huh, Tsubasa~

RIKKA: You start work at noon today?

TSUBASA: Yep~ There’s a meeting and a few formalities before the start of the CM filming.

TSUBASA: There’s gonna be a briefing on a lot of stuff so they said we needed to all be there.

TSUBASA: It’s gonna be until night but I think I’ll be back before dinner.

RIKKA: I see. It was a CM for a drug company, right?

TSUBASA: Yeah. It’s a CM for a nutritional drink.

TSUBASA: “A step forward during a crucial moment.” is the concept.

TSUBASA: It seems like it’s a series where people from different jobs will cooperate with each other.

TSUBASA: My partner’s an author.

RIKKA: Eh? An author…? Who?                      

(Tsubasa picks up a book and shows it to Rikka)

TSUBASA: Here. He’s this book’s author.

TSUBASA: “An up-and-coming novelist!” He’s Kuriki Yohei.

RIKKA: Ah, I know him. He’s gotten several awards recently, right? I remember seeing him on the news.

RIKKA: If I remember correctly… He’s being called the number one author preferred by young readers.

TSUBASA: Looks like it~ I’ve read all four of his works, too.

RIKKA: What were they like?

TSUBASA: Hmmm… My impressions are… They’re like charcoal fire?

RIKKA: (chuckles) What’s with that? That sounds like an impression fitting for his books, huh?

TSUBASA: All the subjects you can pick up from his books are really difficult!

TSUBASA: Like, there’s the harmful effect of an internet-centric society or… Something about a family who moved to live in a virtual forest and stuff.

TSUBASA: His composition’s really difficult and I felt like “Woah, what the heck?!” when I first started reading one.

TSUBASA: But, when I resolved myself to read it, I couldn’t put it down.

TSUBASA: Even after thinking it’s difficult at first, it leaves a unique kinda fire inside your heart after you’re done reading.

TSUBASA: That’s why it’s ‘charcoal fire’. Did ya get it~?

RIKKA: It’s a heat that slowly swallows you, was it?

TSUBASA: Yep, yep! That’s kinda how it is.

RIKKA: Hmm~ I feel like reading them now, too. Will you lend it to me next time?

TSUBASA: Of course~

RIKKA: So, going back to the CM topic, you’ll be co-starring with Kuriki-san, huh?

TSUBASA: Yep. It seems like they’ll show me at a crucial moment before a live and they’ll show him during a crucial moment with his deadline.

RIKKA: It’ll be about both of your challenges, right~

RIKKA: I hope that it’ll be a good commercial. I’m looking forward to it.

TSUBASA: Thank you~

RIKKA: It feels like it will be a passionate one, huh?

(door opens)

DAI: Sorry for the wait.

RIKKA: Ah, no, I just got finished [packing] a while ago. Wait, Dai—Is that all you’re gonna bring with you?

DAI: Hm? Yeah, that’s right.

RIKKA: Isn’t that rucksack the one you’re always using?

DAI: Yeah.

RIKKA: Is there… did you really bring stuff that’s for a 2-3 day trip…?

DAI: Of course. This is enough.

DAI: We’ll still be in Japan after all. If I need something I can just buy it somewhere there.

TSUBASA: Dai-chan’s always carried a few things during times like these, huh~

RIKKA: Back during my model days I was always running around here and there so I thought that it’d be better to have a compact case but…

RIKKA: I kinda feel like I just lost.

DAI: That’s a weird thing to be upset at losing about.

RIKKA: (laughs) But, don’t you think it’s kinda cool that you look like you’re used to travelling because you’ve only got a little stuff with you~?

TSUBASA: I feel ya~! You’re still fine. It’s not like Rikka’s carrying a lot of stuff either.

DAI: Shiki’s stuff is even fewer compared to mine, you know?

RIKKA: He’s an exception. His lack of stuff is totally on a mysterious level.

TSUBASA: He does go on overseas trips with only one bag. Like, the other day he managed to survive in Nagoya with only a small bag and his wallet.

DAI: Yeah, he did. I remember that.

DAI: He did buy souvenirs but the paper bag was bigger than his own stuff.

RIKKA: Unbelievable.

TSUBASA: His bag might be mysteriously connected to the paper bag, ya know~

RIKKA: (chuckles) I feel like that’s possible.

DAI: Is it really?

RIKKA: I kinda hold a grudge against Shiki for not needing to bring skin care and hair products.

DAI: Ah… Though he looks like the type to bring coffee-flavoured candy and sake bottles.

RIKKA: Maybe I’ll inspect his stuff next time.

RIKKA: It might be fine for now but in 5 years or so, if he doesn’t take care of his skin and hair, he’ll have trouble with it.

RIKKA: My goal is to be as cool with our personal appearance even when we become “Old Men SolidS”. I’ll have everyone do their best, too~

TSUBASA: Woah~ Rikka’s on fire~

DAI: Anyway… “Old Men SolidS” sounds weird.

TSUBASA: Right~ Specially if Rikka says it, I feel like there’s an underlying omen… Old men…? Or something. I totally can’t imagine it…

DAI: I agree. Everyone aside from Rikka will look different.

RIKKA: Really? Although I’d be happy if that were true~

RIKKA: But, we’re human so we’ll age. There’s nothing negative about getting older.

RIKKA: I at least want to be able to age coolly and be admired a little.

TSUBASA: Oh-ho~ Rikka’s sense is so grand.

TSUBASA: I can’t imagine you as an old man but I can imagine Shiki!

TSUBASA: He’d definitely suit being a part of Old Men SolidS!

TSUBASA: (trying to imitate Shiki’s voice) “I’m Takamura Shiki, 40 years old. I’m still fired up for work as usual!” he’d definitely say something like that!

SHIKI: Sorry for being such a predictable old man.

TSUBASA: …! (in a high-pitched voice) W-woah…!

SHIKI: Though you’re not wrong about the fact that I’ll still be gung-ho about work when I’m in my 40’s.

SHIKI: I’ll stay in this industry for my entire life.

TSUBASA: Y-you surprised me…! Can you please not just appear so suddenly?

RIKKA: I almost spat out my coffee…

DAI: I’d have been soaked if I continued walking forward.

SHIKI: It’s not sudden. I came in normally from the door.

SHIKI: You were probably too excited about Old Men SolidS that you didn’t notice. I think it’s still good but are you sure you’re not gonna be late?

RIKKA: Eh? Ah, it’s already this time.

TSUBASA: Ah, I’ll clean the cups later.

RIKKA: Thank you. Dai, let’s go.

DAI: Sure.

SHIKI: Do your best.

RIKKA: Yes, we’ll do our best at work~ Good luck to you two as well.

RIKKA: Especially you, Shiki. I heard that your deadline’s coming close. Get some proper rest once in a while even though you’re busy, okay?

SHIKI: I’ll try. I’m sure Haiduki will coordinate it just fine. There are lots of times when things don’t always go according to plan. Outside influences might cause a delay on the matter at hand.

RIKKA: I see.

SHIKI: Fortunately, the topics at hand are completely different from each other and I can think freely about what to write. I hope I get something done.

SHIKI: Well, it’s what makes it fun.

DAI: It’s great that it’s for a SolidS song too, isn’t it?

SHIKI: Totally. That’s why I might make you sing more dazzling idol songs again.

DAI: That’s… I hope you don’t…

RIKKA: Eh~? Isn’t that fun? I plan to sing it with all I’ve got though~

RIKKA: Bring it on~

TSUBASA: Me, too!

DAI: He might really make us do it so stop that.

SHIKI: Look forward to it.

RIKKA: (chuckles) Now then… We’ll be on our way for real this time.

DAI: We’ll be on our way.

TSUBASA: Take care~!

SHIKI: Be careful.

(door opens and Rikka and Dai leave)

TSUBASA: I wonder what they’ll bring us for souvenirs~ I’ll look forward to it~

SHIKI: If they had that much free time, it’d be fine. But it looks like their schedule’s packed.

TSUBASA: Eh? Is that so?

SHIKI: It was an irregular request. A few days ago, an old desk worker retired and the one that took over wanted to do a prefecture-specific job and snuck it in. It went by completely unnoticed.

SHIKI: It was found out when the other party called in to confirm.

TSUBASA: Aw man… So that’s why Rikka and Dai-chan were suddenly called to fill in.

SHIKI: Exactly. If those two are there they’ll be able to do most of what’s needed.

SHIKI: They’re very versatile and there’s two of them. Plus, they’re pretty well-known.

SHIKI: The agency’s happy that they can show off talents who are good at not only singing and dancing.

TSUBASA: That’s great, Producer~ Don’t you feel so proud?

SHIKI: I guess.

SHIKI: By the way…

TSUBASA: Huh?

SHIKI: I’m curious about this aroma that’s filling the room.

TSUBASA: Geh…!

SHIKI: Tsubasa, that coffee you’re drinking, could it be…

TSUBASA: (in a slightly panicking tone) Oh no! Looks like I’ll be going out, too~!

TSUBASA: It’s a little early but I guess I’ll go shopping and eat an early lunch along the way~

SHIKI: Hey.

TSUBASA: I won’t be back until dinner so do your best at work, too, Leader! (he blows a kiss)

(Tsubasa opens the door)

TSUBASA: I’ll be going now~

(door closes)

SHIKI: Hey, Tsubasa. Hey, wa—

SHIKI: (to himself) Good grief. They drank such expensive coffee.

SHIKI: (to himself) Do your work properly in exchange.

  ==END==

※ Please don’t re-post these translations without permission.

[r95irth]

me : hey, we could draw the next part of the doodles-comics tonight !

Brain : no, I drew and animated all day at work I don’t wanna. 

me : Okay...then, what about writing the next part of our current fic ?

Brain : it implies being sit in front of computer right ? Our back hurt for month, I just want to lie down. 

me : okay then video games in bed ?

Brain : Yeah. 

*ends up writing a whole scene that has nothing to do with anything and spends two hours sitting with her back hurting*

me : WHY ???

brain : I DOn’T KnOW JuST DO As I SAY !

So here; gift. 

“As you all know, heroes business is oversaturated. There are too many heroes on the market and it’s hard to make your own name. Now that the policy of the hero business is team work, since the fall of All might, this is even truer than before. You might all hope to become the next Deku, but there a thousand who dreams like you, and only one get the spot.”

Well, thought Satoru ; that was harsh. True, yes, but still. It wasn’t because it was the truth that it was worth saying ; especially to a bunch of teenagers who were currently studying in hero course. But he supposed that this “teacher” was somewhat special. She wasn’t even a teacher, just a ex-hero that UA invited to help supervise on the mental health of it students on regular basis apparently. If someone asked Satoru about it, he would say she did a terrible job.

Peacemaker, as it was her ex-hero name, and the only name that most of the student could pronounce right, looked as f she had just came out from the hospital, with the right part of her face paralyzed. Her face was awfully scared, and she was missing half of her right ear, and scalp, and missing her right leg. She introduced herself, days ago, by saying “this is what happen when you go fight alone against a bunch of villains and you loose”. The dark tone of her lessons was already here. But there was always a moral, a point, behind each one of his session. So Satoru waited for this one.

“What i mean by that, resumed Peacemakers, as she used her cane to support her body’s weight, is that it’s really hard for new heroes to distinguish themselves. You need to have something special to really stand out and succeed.”

Most of the students in class nodded as she gave them a printed piece of paper. Well except Lazare, who sneezed right into it and looked with pure disgust as he saw the mess he had made.

“What makes you special can be your talent, your quirk, or your looks, let’s be honest here, explained Peacemaker with a sigh, as she handled him a new piece of paper. -But, if i were you, i would rather bet on more...easier to control, particularity. Anyone has any idea of what i’m talking about ?”

“A special move ! Immediately stated Yosuke, proudly. -Like Satoru’s “All is one” move !”

Satoru blushed at the mention of his name, and even more when he heard the “name” that his classmates gave to his special move. It sounded like All might and Izuku’s quirk ; even if they didn't’ know, he did, and so all of his parent’s friends. It was awfully pretentious to even think he could come close to their level !

Though, Peacemakers didn’t seem to be chocked by that and simply half smiled.

“This is indeed a way, but you will, luckily, all get to develop your own special move during the three years you will spend in UA. As you will develop your quirk. So you will all be at the same “virtual” level once you graduate. So. How will you stand out among your peers ?”

Silence followed, as students looked at each other puzzled. Satoru frowned, trying to find the solution, but, sincerely, he had no clue at all. What made a hero popular ? Surely, looks and charisma. But that was not always true. All might wasn’t that good looking, neither was Izuku. Yet they all rose above the rest and earned the number one spot rank. Power ? Surely, but lot of heroes had quirk that were just more...not powerful but showy, than their. Yet they were outshined by such a simple power as “super strength”. Not that Izuku’s power was lame -Satoru would dream to have something close to that- but it was certainly not original nor flashy. It was the way they used it that-

Oh.

“How your use your power ?” He said to Peacemaker.

The ex-hero stopped, and stared a moment at Satoru, before nodding with her half-smile:

“Close call, but no.”

Well. he tried. Some whispers behind his back made him realize that every one of his classmates were counting on him to find the answer for them, and that they just gave up. So did Peacemaker, probably; because she explained :

“It is principles. A line of work : a sense of purpose, call it as you want it. Whatever floats your boat. And this is what i want you to think about for next lesson. You will write down an short essay on what kind of hero you want to be in the future.”

She pointed the piece of paper she handled, on which there were only a couple of questions like “how do you want to be viewed ?” ; “do you have a motto ?”  and such. probably to help student figures out the image they wanted to build.

It didn’t.

***

“What kind of hero i want to be?”

The question kept coming back and forth as he stared at the plain ceiling of his room. The deadline was coming closer and closer and Satoru was still unsure of himself. He asked his dad and mom about it, through phone call...but their answer didn’t help much, well...Mainly because it sounded :

“I wanted to be hero worth of respect, unlike my father at the time” or “I wanted to unite heroes under one flag so that our peace symbol would never crumble again”. Outdated, great, admirable...There were many way to call those reasons, but Satoru couldn’t say it was his own.

Why was he even in the hero course? He thought immediately, as doubt made his way to his brain. Immediately, he answered : “To become the greatest duo of hero with Mahô” but again, it sounded fake. It wasn’t his reason, it was their. And Mahô wanted to be a hero for a whole different reason on her own.

“I want to be a hero that makes miracles ! One hero that, when you see them enter the fight, you expect them to turn the tide, one that make you want to get up and fight again because you know you can do it if they are here !”

Which was very Mahô’s. And also very brave and cool, he wished he could have thought of that before. She could probably do it, unlike him. When he was beside her, he certainly felt that way, and sometimes, when they fought together during Kirishima’s duel club, he certainly felt like he was doing miracle with her. Heck, she even managed to make Endeavor see her as a serious opponent in their fight during the festival ! If someone could achieve this, it was probably Mahô. But not Satoru.

But again, was it the kind of hero he wanted to be?

“URGH ! THIS IS SO COMPLICATED!” He screamed into his pillow.

He decided to stop complaining without any chance to get over it, and left the bed. Surely, someone would be willing to help at the common area. After all they needed to return the paper for tomorrow first hour.

Satoru didn’t expect to find half of his class B...and half ot class A, stucked and stressed together, screaming about that damn essay.

“She said Short essay, but what is short exactly ? was panicking Kahei, writing frantically.

-I don’t know, i would say, one page ? Answered Kino with the face of someone who hadn’t sleep for days.

-I know, what about you use your power to turn into the me of ten years in the future, so he can say to me what’s his motive, suddenly asked Arya.

-For the last time Arya ; that’s not how my power work, i’m still me when i turn into your future version!

-Yes but then you have dreams about the future, right?

-And in the extreme case you’re lucky i dream about this subject specifically, when do you find the time to write your essay ? While we eat breakfast tomorrow?”

Arya groaned as her head hit the table, drawn back to reality.

“So many people are clueless about it?”

This realization made him feel a little bit better, but he definitely pushed aside this selfish satisfaction : he shouldn't be happy about his classmates’s troubles. (But he kind did anyways). Instead of taking a seat in the middle of the storm, he sat in the couch, where people watched the mess from distance. Tsubaki, his friend, was among them.

“You already did the essay ? What did you write?”

Silently -as always- His friend pulled out of his pocket a folded piece of paper. All Satoru could read on it was:  “I want to be a silent hero”.

Well. That was short. He sure hoped for Tsubaki’s sake that it would not be graded.

“I wrote that i wanted to be a hero my little brother would be proud to call his brother, i hope it’s okay, it sound a bit lame…” Added Goro, suddenly appearing behind Satoru’s back.

His heart leaped in his chest. Dang. He wished the boy could stop doing that. But unfortunately he seemed quite good at appearing out of nowhere ; despite the fact that it was Kyouji who had the astral projection / ghostly quirk, not the bunny boy !

“I don’t think so, th-that’s cute of you...It sounds like my papa’s reason to be a hero...” He explained, as he looked away, feeling his blush reaching his ears.

Goro grinned. And gods, what his smile made to Satoru’s heart, that was embarrassing. He tried to think of something else, in vain.

“Thanks Satoru it’s nice to cheer me up, but it lacks a bit, you know...mondial feel to it, right ?”

Among the working student, Max suddenly stood up, screamed, spilling wax all over, and his fire growing dangerously. Then he sat back silent as if nothing happened.

“This is scary, simply stated Goro.

-Don’t talk about world around Max...His mother is a diplomat, she kinda put pressure on him about how the world will interpret their every move. It’s like a trigger word for him, Satoru explained.

-This is scary, repeated Goro.”

He couldn’t agree more. Satoru started working, though, as his homework would not be done by itself -unlike mahô’s. Some only had redaction problems related and found it difficult to put into words their ideas, and he helped them a bit. That was simple, easy, he did that a lot when Mahô thought about her next enchantment.

Ume wanted to be a hero that made everyone thinking their worth her time, which was such a wonderful idea. But she had troubles to find the right word and it took them half an hour to write it down.

Takashi, though he had a clear vision of what he wanted to be like, was too eager to put example rather than give a clear statement. In the end, they decided on this : “A model hero ; an example of morality”. Which started an argument between him and his step-sister - and gave a reason to satoru to gently step away.

At one point, he offered his classmates a gigantic brainstorm, hoping it would help everyone who, as him, just didn’t know what to do. It ended up in a mess.  When Mahô came back from her special training, at 10:30 PM, they were still on it. And when she returned from her bath, none of them had made any progress.

“Wow guys you’re just too tense, just write whatever comes to your mind, i mean it’s supposed to come from the heart right ?” She said as she took a bit of what was left of the diner.

“You’re right Mahô, you’re totally right! This is so obvious, why didn’t i think of it sooner?”

Yuu stood up, looking dead serious and determined as she took her pencil and brandished it like a sword.

“I’m gonna be a cupidon hero ! The protector of the lovers, the instigator of the greatest love stories ever ! I will make every one and-

-And what you’re gonna make the villains kiss and apologize like children ? Mocked Kahei.”

That didn’t end well; the two girls almost fought right here and now. While Mahô just laughed and said : “Sound cool : i didn’t know you could do that as a hero !” which was, somehow an hasher remark. At least from Satoru’s point of view. Finally, Yuu decided to indeed go for this, adding just a part that sounded like Ume, about giving helping people who felt all alone and unable to love. It might be only a desperate chance because she was tired and done and just wanted to go to bed at this point, but Satoru still found it pretty great. It fit the lovely girl he knew.

The common area was getting lonelier and lonelier, as his classmates found their reason, bullshitted their essay or just simply gave up. And before Satoru knew it, he found himself be almost alone, with only Mahô and a couple of others who were playing video games on the couch. Damn, he wanted to join them and forget this essay : but he couldn’t. His only asset in UA were his grades, he couldn’t afford to get a bad mark.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you, don’t you already know what you want to be? asked Mahô, as she enchanted her pencils and papers so it could do her other homework while she slept.”

“I’m not as confident as you, you know…Mahô.

-Well, i will be confident enough for both of us then.

-This isn’t something we can do together. I mean, yeah i want to be a your partner and become the greatest hero duo ever, but myself ? I don’t know. You need two great hero to make a duo, not one and a half !

-Why are you even talking about us? Sure i invited you in my dream when we were kids, but you wanted to be a hero back then, right ?”

Silence. Mahô’s face lost all its color as she looked shocked.

“You didn’t?! Did i force this on you?”

She seemed so lost, Satoru immediately tried to comfort her, and words spurted out of his mouth before he realized :

“No of course not! I wanted to be a hero of course ! But i couldn’t believe someone like me could ever achieve that alone!”

Mahô sighed in relief, and immediatly found back her smile as she whispered :

“Soooo- why did you want to be a hero back then?”

Satoru shut up. He didn’t know how much she manipulated him in order to get this embarrassing confession -and he doubted she even did it on purpose. But yet…Yet it worked.

“I suppose...i wanted to be like Shouto.”

Mahô nodded vigorously.

“Yeah ! We both want to be like our dad, right? That’s a given, they’re so awesome!”

Satoru nodded, another thought running through him. Yes they were : but what made them awesome in their eyes? What made them want to be like them? For once, the answer came easily.

“He picked me up. He gave me a place when i was the world didn’t have one for me.”

He remembered the moment as he sat in the police interrogation room, where Naomasa explained him that Satoru didn’t even exist in regard of the law, because he had no birth certificate. Back then he thought it was stupid : he was there, so how could the world deny even his own existence? Shouto reached for him, and made sure that he saw him and cared. Shouto saved him.

But how many people were like him, back then? Like Big Mother and Death-pair? Thinking that they had no choice but to follow the path in front of them? Thinking that the world didn’t want them? When tomorrow held nothing for you, and you didn’t have even one bit of curiosity or care about what the future could hold. He knew how dreading this feeling could get, how desperate it got, when you wished nothing, hoped for nothing, only surviving, existing but with no purpose. To the point, that one day, you would just wish you could even stop doing that.

Who would save them, then? Shouto couldn’t adopt every lost kid in the world. Neither could he. And some of them were adults already, like big Mother and Death-pair were. He couldn’t give up on them just because they were older, right ? It didn’t sound right or fair. They deserved a place. Everybody deserved one.

He rose his eyes and met Mahô’s, bright and proud, as if she knew that he had found his answer.

One day, they will be a duo. She was sure of that, Satoru still had doubt, but he had decided a long time ago to trust his friend. His confidence wasn’t as reliable as her. But she was also too rash and often forgot details. She liked to go past her limit, and sure she wanted to save people; but she liked fights too much. She would never care about such tiny details as care about her opponent, or people that were not in front of her. That would be Satoru’s job. He would. It would be his role, his place in the duo.

With a bit of a smile, he started to write down the first sentence of his essay :

“I want to be a hero that will save everyone, even villains and people forgotten by society.

[mademoisellesarcasme]

who wants to hear a story about my life working overtime you all do here you go

so Tuesday was the office Chili Cook-off, right? after its conclusion, someone left chili in the fridge. unlabelled. un-marked. two tupperwares -- one plastic and only sort of full, the other glass and very full. plastic was on top, easy to access. and at the time of the cook-off’s conclusion, it had been suggested that people help take the chili home.

I’ve been eyeing that fridge-chili for a couple days now (it’s Thursday), but I have some old frozen-and-thawed chicken nonsense I made in the slow cooker and have regretted the inclusion of carrots to, so I’ve been trying to eat that before it’s completely inedible. (Why do I think I like cooked carrots? They’re nasty.) I ate it for lunch yesterday and again today, so I also got myself a mug of chili from the fridge to supplement my lunch, expecting to be here late tonight. (I am. Welcome to deadline hell. It never leaves, you just get paid time and a half for it, when you’re hourly.) We had leftover sour cream in the fridge from a lunch’n’learn a couple weeks ago. I added that. It was glorious.

Roll around to about 7pm or so, maybe just before, and I head back downstairs to the kitchen from my perch on the third floor to drag my chili mug downstairs and refill it. Turns out, the rest of the chili from the top tupperware juuuust barely fits in the mug, but I still want sour cream, so I transfer it to a new mug, microwave it, and add the sour cream. My project manager is in the downstairs conference room marking up drawings, and I note that I had some questions for him but I thought he’d already left. Chili gets heated, brought to my desk, I drag my drawings down to the second floor where he’s picking up some prints. We discuss my questions, I go back to my desk.

My desk phone rings (I always hate when it rings, honestly) and it’s the conference room where PM has camped. I answer it, wondering what the heck may need fixing. “Hey, so, [4th floor coworker] is ecstatic that someone’s eaten his chili.” I can hear the speakerphone, but that’s how he always makes his calls.(PM has been known to be rather dryly sarcastic in the past. I think it’s an occupational hazard of architecture.)  I have a mini heart attack on the spot. “Oh, no, I’m sorry!”  PM responds, “No, ecstatic. Like, really happy? Is that the wrong word for it?” I reply, warily, “I didn’t know if that was sarcastic??” 4th-floor coworker chimes in: “No, seriously, thank you! I don’t have to schlep that tupperware home now, and have the chili get thrown out some time later this week ‘cause I can’t freakin eat it all by myself!” My response, rather weakly still, recovering from the moment where my heart gave up the ghost and stopped beating at the beginning of this conversation: “It’s really good...! Thank you! I can help next week too but not tomorrow...!”* 4th-floor coworker: “Nah, I’m going to take it all home today, but now there’s one less tupperware!” Me, a little stronger, still really weak of voice: “It’s in the dishwasher...” 4th-floor coworker: “Wasn’t even mine! Found it in the cabinet!” I laugh nervously, and they hang up.

It is damn good chili.

[fraddit]

Original Fiction - 1545 words

Well, since that’s how it works in a writing class, I had to write some more.  Per usual, I pulled this out of my ass last night just in time for the midnight deadline and gave it a vague editing pass.  Figured I’d post it here.  If you decide to read it, I apologize in advance for how boring and terrible it is.  Oh, also, it’s near future science fiction.  And it’s just a scene, so it cuts off with no resolution.  Enjoy!  

Was the light flickering?  Slouched in her desk chair, Hannah spun round just far enough to get a look.  One of the fluorescent lights toward the back of the room was starting to die.  Freaking great.  She’d have to waste time putting in a request, and then who knew how long she’d have to put up with the flickering after that.  Backend maintenance like that was low priority to the higher ups.  She could envision the response email without effort: Company resources are allocated toward customer facing needs first.  Your request will be addressed as soon as possible.

The light started to buzz.  Freaking great.

Her console chimed.

           With a sigh, she spun herself back toward the monitors using as few muscles in her foot as possible.  Looked like another one of the transport chambers had malfunctioned.  She sat up and grabbed the controls to investigate.  The logs indicated an error with transport chamber MH3.9.

           “Okay, MH3.9, what seems to be the problem?” she muttered quietly to the confines of her cubicle.

           Pulling up the data for the chamber showed an issue with the printing on arrival.  With a few clicks, she opened the feed for the chamber’s camera.  The screen showed a fleshy, writing mass collapsed on the chamber floor.  

“Ugh!  Ew.  Definitely a printer malfunction.”  She grimaced and minimized the video feed, toggled MH3.9’s systems over to manual control, and put her headset on.

She pulled up the departure feed.  A man in a suit stood in the chamber looking impatient.  Hannah hit the switch on her microphone and opened the com.  “Excuse me, Sir?  We are having some technical difficulties with the chamber, but you should be on your way momentarily.”

“I should hope so!” he yelled back.  “The whole point of these stupid things is efficiency!  How long is this going to take?”

“Should be just a few minutes, Sir.”

“Good.  I’ve got tickets to a show in Singapore that –”

Hannah muted the com link and minimized the video feed.  “Friggin’ jerk.”  

Jumping back to the arrival chamber controls, she initialized the cleanup procedures.  The video feed shut off automatically as the chamber prepared itself for its incineration protocol, and a display popped up with the chamber’s stats.  Current interior temperature read 553 degrees Fahrenheit.  It would take another two minutes to reach 2000.

Pulling up the video for Business Suit Guy again, she saw he was still talking and unmuted the com, “—aking so long?!”

“Apologies, Sir.  We’re working as fast as we can.  Just a few more minutes.  We thank you for your patience.”

She muted him again.

Propping her elbows on the desk, Hannah dropped her face into her hands and rubbed her eyes and sighed.  “I need more coffee…”

The console chimed again, and an alert told her that the incineration was complete.  She initialized the cooldown process and reopened the com, “Sir, we’re ready to restart the process.  If you’d be so kind as to resume the transport position and stand very still, we should have you in Singapore very soon.”

“It’s about time!” he yelled back, but she could see him readying himself, standing with his feet on the designated markers and staring straight ahead for the scanners to do their work.

It wasn’t strictly necessary to rescan him, but Hannah didn’t want to take any chances on attempt number two and have to deal with the guy all over again.  She watched with baited breath as the arrival printer moved through its sequence.  The chamber camera’s display showed a frenzy of sleek metal arms spinning to life on the other side of the world, extruding organic matter according to the precise instructions of the departure scans. Layer by layer, bone, muscle, skin, clothing, even exact matches for the delicate neurons in Suit Guy’s brain were being printed from a few proprietary soups of elemental matter.

A cheerful bing signaled the successful completion of the process, and just like that, there were two of him.  Hannah opened the com to the arrival chamber.  “All done, Sir.  How are you feeling?”

“Late,” he said with a huff.  “Can I finally get on with my day?”

“Yes, of course, Sir.  Thank you for your patience.  We hope to see you again soon.”

“Yeah, whatever.  I’ll be having a word with your headquarters.”

With a click, Hannah opened the door of the chamber for him, and he stomped away, out of view of the cameras.  “That’s one down…”  She toggled to the departure chamber where Suit Guy still stood, looking as irritated as ever and opened the com.  “Just one more moment, Sir.”

“Will I be getting to Singapore anytime today?” he yelled into the chamber surrounding him.

Hannah muted him, removed her headset, and took a deep breath.  They swore it was impossible for the chamber mics to operate while the incinerator was engaged, but she didn’t like to take any chances on the possibility of hearing something unpleasant.  Two more clicks cut the video feed and started the final incineration process.  She had to admit, with customers like Business Suit Guy, there was a small measure of satisfaction in pressing that button.

With a groan, Hannah hoisted herself out of her chair, grabbed her coffee mug, and headed to the breakroom for a refill.

She saw Greg was hovering over Tim’s desk, chatting away with a vacant smile on his vacant face, and made a quick decision to go the long way through the cubicles to avoid being pounced on about her unfinished B5X reports that were due tomorrow.  No thank you.

Thankfully, the sad, taupe hallway to the breakroom was empty. The breakroom however, was not. Jessica slammed the fridge shut with yelp when she heard Hannah come in.

“Oh, Hannah! It’s you,” she said.  Her eyes darted over Hannah’s shoulder to the hallway and then back to Hannah.  “H-how are you?”

“... Good?  Are you alright?”

“Of course!  Why wouldn’t I be?” Jessica’s eyes darted back out the breakroom door as she walked over toward Hannah and the coffee machine.  

Hannah shrugged and reached for the coffee pot, cringing at how light it was.  “Ugh, empty again,” she said, rolling her eyes toward Jessica in hopes of some coworkerly solidarity.  But the other woman seemed preoccupied with something and was staring off into space with her eyebrows pinched.  

With another shrug, Hannah began rinsing the coffee pot in the small sink next to the coffee maker and flung open the cabinet to grab one of the packets of generic brand medium roast the company provided.  She dumped the sodden filter filled with old grounds in the trash, prepared the machine, and hit go.  Joyful anticipation washed over her as she leaned against the counter and closed her eyes, listening to the gurgle of the water dripping through the machine and breathing deep the first fragrant scents of coffee filling the room.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Jessica asked quietly, her voice tight.

What the hell was this about?  Hannah opened her eyes and turned a little to face Jessica, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Jessica glanced out the door again.  What the heck was she looking for?  “I think I may have found something.”

“Found something.  What do you mean?”

“Well… I was reviewing my B5X reports –”

Hannah sighed internally, still needed to do that.

“—and I found a line error.  So, I ran the report again, and got the same error again.”

Hannah didn’t see what the big deal was, but Jessica was always more of a perfectionist than she was.

“I wanted to double check it, so I asked Chad to pull me all the B5X data for the month.”

“Wait, for the whole system?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah.”

“Jesssica, how many times have I told you?  You need to stop making extra work for yourself.”

“Just listen, Hannah.  When I looked at the data systemwide, there were more weird inconsistencies.”  She glanced around the empty breakroom again.  “I… I think someone has been falsifying departure incineration records.” She said it so quietly that Hannah almost couldn’t hear her.

“What?” Hannah asked, blinking.  

The coffee pot beeped its completion.

“I think—”

“No, I heard you.  But do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“Believe me, Hannah, I know.  I ran it three more times just to be sure, but the only explanation for what I found is that someone isn’t finalizing departure incinerations but is logging it like they are.  I don’t know what it means.”  She looked like someone had just kicked several puppies in front of her.

Hannah stood in silence for several breaths, thinking, absorbing what Jessica had just told her.  If Jessica was right, there were duplicates of customers out wandering around. But that didn’t make any sense, they would have heard about that almost immediately.  Hell, if Business Suit Guy was any measure to go by, the copies would have been lighting up their customer support lines.  So, what was happening to them if they weren’t being destroyed in the chambers like they were supposed to?

“Jessica, can you show me what you found?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay.”  Hannah rubbed her hands over her face.  “But first I need more coffee.”

[akemilena]

SolidS Drama CD 1 -Don’t work too hard!- track 1

Busy day-to-day -慌ただしい日々-

Translation index || Track 2

Tsubasa: Oh no oh no oh no!!! This is terrible!!!

Rikka: Oh, what’s wrong, Tsubasa??

Tsubasa: Overslept!!! Super overslept!!!

Rikka: Eh? Did you have something to do today?

Tsubasa: Something?? An interview!!! As a promotion for the album! Aghhh, dammit!! Shiki will get super angry at me later!!!

Dai: Isn’t that tomorrow?

Tsubasa: Eh?

Rikka: Yeah, I also thought it was tomorrow… Wait a second, let me check the calendar just in case. Er… Ah, look! It’s tomorrow. No mistake.

Tsubasa: Eeehhhhh… really… *flops* Ahhh… I thought I was going to die.

Dai: You should learn to check things before panicking.

Tsubasa: I was sure it was today!!

Rikka: *laughs* Those mysterious moments when you’re under the wrong impression. It happens to me sometimes too. You feel so shocked you think your heart is going to break.

Um… do you want something to drink to calm down?

Tsubasa: I want… One of your special fashionable hot chocolates…

Rikka: Okay, okay! The one warmed up with a milk pot, and with the chocolate syrup, right?

Tsubasa: Yep. Please. Ahhh…

Rikka: Give me a second! Dai, you want one too, right?

Dai: Yeah.

Tsubasa: Ahh… Somehow, I’m super tired… I don’t want to do anything else today… Today’s business is closed!

Dai: Well, isn’t that fine? These days you got interviews and photo-shoots in a row. How about you take it easy today?

Tsubasa: Hmm… but you know… Sleeping just because I don’t have to work… it’s just wasting time…

Dai: Pick one. Well, you’ve always been the type that will die if you don’t move.

Tsubasa: Because you know, Dai-chan? Life’s only got about 100 years! There are a million things I want to do, I can’t waste time!

Dai: But, 100 years is pretty long…? Heck, do you plan to live 100 full years?

Tsubasa: If I did all the fun things I want to do, 100 years wouldn’t even be enough.

Dai: Yeah, yeah. Do you know that proverb that says “He who runs after two hares will catch neither”?

Tsubasa: In life, you need to have at least the ambition to “run after two hares, while actually aiming for three”!

Dai: That’s not ambition, it’s just greed. Man, you just are living too fast and recklessly in general.

Tsubasa: It’s you who is like an old man! You’re withering. Even though you’re younger.

Dai: Wither- Listen, you…

Rikka: You both are so lively…

Dai: Don’t lump me together with him.

Rikka: But I was praising you…

Here you have.

Tsubasa: Thank you, Rikka!

Dai: Thank you for the meal.

Rikka: Please enjoy it.

Tsubasa: *blows* *drinks* Ahh, it’s so good! Sweet things really hit the spot when you’re exhausted!

Dai: You got exhausted on you own. *drinks* … It’s good.

Rikka: I’m glad to hear that.

Tsubasa: Rikka, you have energy to spare! You’re also working as a model so you should be busier than us, but you’re always smiling!

Rikka: Not at all! Sometimes I’m secretly worn out in my room.

Dai: Why secretly?

Rikka: Hmm… Because I’m older than you two… and I’ve somehow got a long career in the entertainment industry… so with that, it’s kind of… showing off, I guess?

Dai: I don’t think you need to show off to us, though?

Rikka: Right? I also think that, but it’s like a bad habit… or should I say an occupational disease? It’s like an obsession, that I must not show any weaknesses, or my tired face…

Tsubasa: The entertainment world is a competitive society after all!

Rikka: *laughs* In that aspect, you’re tough, right, Dai?

Dai: Me?

Rikka: You shouldn’t have any bad habit like me, but I’ve almost never heard you say you’re tired.

Tsubasa: Oh, that’s true. It was only about that one-time recording incident* right? That he said “I’m so tireeed” so much. The rest of the times, I guess he runs out of battery and sleeps before saying it?

Dai: Shut up… When I say that I’m tired so many times, it’s like I’m convincing myself, and I get even more tired.

Tsubasa: Those kind of spiritual things are what make you an athlete… Ahh, I’m so tired…

Dai: And you should restrain yourself some more.

Tsubasa: Eeeh~ but I really am tired. You know, I’m also combining university with work, so praise me~

Rikka: Yep, you’re working really hard, Tsubasa.

Tsubasa: Ahhh, Rikka, you’re so nice!! I love you!!

Dai: Well, I guess it’s a good thing, but we’re definitely getting more work. Two or three in a row on a single day it’s become normal.

Rikka: Even if we’re not held back in every workplace, if we count the commuting time, the schedule is so tight… Days when “the day is over before you realize” have increased too.

Dai: But the producer seems to be having even a harder time than us…

Tsubasa: Oh? Now that you mention it, where’s Shiki?

Rikka: You see… apparently it’s quite of a bloodbath now… He’s been confined in his room for three days and hasn’t come out at all.

Tsubasa: Eh, why? He delivered the master sound source the other day, so he shouldn’t be so busy now? Is he already preparing the next album or something?

Dai: I think he said there’s a tie-up project, and the deadline for the main song is next week…

Tsubasa: Eh~ he starts moving early!

Rikka: In addition, it seems the songs he’s providing to artists other than us are what’s piling up.

Tsubasa: Eh?! Is he still doing that?!

Rikka: Apparently it’s a series so he can’t turn it down.

Dai: Which means… he has had zero breaks since our last album…

Rikka: Yeah… I’m worried about him, but if it’s his personal work I can’t really interfere, as someone unrelated…

Tsubasa: Why?

Dai: Why… Shiki has his own circumstances, like compromises…

Tsubasa: And he has to write a random song for a shitty artist because of compromises, and then write our songs while being completely exhausted?! In his spare time?? Come on!!

Dai: Idiot. Shiki wouldn’t do something like that.

Rikka: Yeah, that’s true. It’s Shiki we’re talking about, so he probably can’t hold back in any of them, and that’s why he’s having a hard time…

Tsubasa: Either way, it’s irritating! Why is he writing songs for other people now… He has us, he has SolidS! There’s no need to do it for them! He could try everything he wants to do with SolidS! I don’t get why he has to get exhausted because of others. Okay, I’m going to Shiki’s room for a bit. I’ll tell him not to do half-assed things!

Dai: Hey, he’s busy now so don’t bot- Tsubasa!! Damn it…

Rikka: Half irritated, half worried about Shiki, I guess?

Dai: Aren’t you going to stop him?

Rikka: Nope, I won’t. The way they’ve been lately, I think it’ll be fine even if they fight. And more importantly, I’m more worried about Shiki’s health… I know that by doing other work, in the end it’s beneficial for SolidS, and I’m also feeling it, but if he falls sick because of that… it’ll amount to nothing. I guess I’m also a bit sneaky for thinking “If Tsubasa said something to him”…

Dai: No… well, I understand. We’re worried, but if it’s something Shiki accepted to do because he really wanted to do it… we don’t want to interrupt, and it’s difficult to say something. If we could help in another way, we’d do anything…

Rikka: Yeah, that’s right... I wish there was something we could do…

Translation index || Track 2

TL notes:

Dai’s one-time recording incident is that from volume 3.

Finally starting the second season of CDs!! If you’re wondering who’s that person with grey hair on the cover, you’ll find out in a couple of tracks~

Thanks for reading!

[fandomkid101]

Knight and the Beast part 14

When dinner was over and everyone got themselves cleaned up from the food fight, Clay and Jestro went to bed early in their rooms. The lava monsters took the opportunity to have a meeting among themselves. All the monsters gathered in the living room; speaking to each other rather loudly. Magmar walked into the middle of the room and cleared his throat.

"Alright; everyone settle down now." He called out.

Everyone just ignored Magmar and continued talking. Magmar glared at them.

"I said settle down!" He repeated.

Everyone just kept talking. Having enough, Magmar put his hand under his mask and his fingertips in his mouth; letting out a high pitched whistle. Everyone covered their ears and quieted down. Magmar smiled briefly under his mask.

"Thank you. Now, I have called this meeting because there is an important topic we need to discuss and act upon." Magmar started. "I'm sure you've all noticed that Jestro and Mr Moorington have been getting along rather well as of late."

The monsters nodded in agreement.

"And Jestro hasn't been talking in that scary electrical voice since last night." Beast Master pointed.

"And he's been smiling like he used to." Sparkks added.

"Yes; that's very good." Magmar agreed.

The general put his arms behind his back and stood up straight.

"But I'm afraid we have an emergency on our hands."

Everyone stopped talking and looked at Magmar with confused faces.

"I checked the rose before Jestro went to bed." He spoke; trying to sound calm and collected. "It only has four petals left."

As soon as Magmar delivered the news, all the other monsters began to panic. Lavaria stood up and spoke.

"But we haven't felt any tremors." She pointed out.

"And there were six left yesterday!" Flama added.

Book Keeper nodded as he shook.

"What does this mean?" Whiparella questioned in worry.

"Look; I don't want to cause a panic. But I have an estimate." Magmar tried to sound reassuring. "The rose appears to be losing petals faster now. If I had to take a guess..."

Magmar looked uncertain as he calculated how much time they had before the rose wilts and loses all its petals. Everyone looked at him with scared and nervous eyes.

"We probably only have till the morning after tomorrow."

Magmar wished he said nothing when all the other monsters started panicking.

"I don't wanna be a walking fire hazard forever!" Flama held the flames of his head.

"What're we gonna do!?" Burnzie questioned in panic.

Book keeper was sitting on the floor; holding his legs and rocking back and forth.

Magmar held the bridge of his nose as he sighed in frustration. Lavaria quickly ran to the front of the room and let out a high pitched whistle. Everyone went silent and gave Lavaria their attention.

"Look everyone; I know this sounds bad! We're all terrified!" She admitted. "But we still have a chance. Now we'll just have to be quick."

"But how the heck are we supposed to get them to fall in love with each other by tomorrow!?" Moltor questioned. "They've barely made it into the friend zone!"

"But they've been getting along pretty well today." Flama shrugged.

Whiparella stood up before speaking.

"We need ideas." She exclaimed the obvious.

"If any one has any, feel free to tell us." Lavaria added.

All the monsters started discussing how they could get their master and the knight to fall for each other in time for the deadline. Book keeper stopped rocking back and forth and looked up at everyone. The little monster looked at Lavaria and raised his hand; making her quickly notice.

"Yes, Book Keeper? Do have an idea?" Lavaria asked eagerly.

Everyone went quiet as Book Keeper walked up to Lavaria. He gestured for her to come down. Lavaria bent down and Book Keeper started whispering something into her ear; making everyone lean in to listen. Lavaria went wide eyed and blinked. Everyone else looked at each other in question.

"You really think that would work?" Lavaria asked.

Book keeper just nodded with a smile.

"Sounds a little cliché if you ask me." Moltor remarked.

"At this point, I think we're willing to try anything." Beast Master replied.

"But where would we do it?" Sparkks questioned.

Everyone scratched their heads in thought. Whiparella spoke up.

"How about the dark arena?" She suggested.

"That place is a bit grim for a dance, isn't it?" Magmar raised an eyebrow.

"We can fix it up a little!" Lavaria said excitedly.

"We can put in marble tiles and decorations!" Flama added in the same tone.

Everyone got excited about changing the arena into something else, but Magmar was hesitant.

"But how long would it take?" The general questioned.

"I bet if we start now, we could get it down by tomorrow afternoon!" Burnzie estimated.

Everyone agreed with Burnzie.

"Alright; let's get to work!" Lavaria put her hands on her hips.

Lavaria started giving everyone instructions; telling half of them to either get tools and supplies from storage and telling the other half to go to the dark arena to wait for further instructions.

Jestros' eyes flattered open as the sun shine hit him. With a short yawn, he sat up and rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes. He looked over to the balcony and stared at the rose; knowing all too know that a petal had fallen off the stem and was on the table; four remaining. Jestro sighed to himself as he played with his morning bed hair. His ears perked up when he heard a noise from down stairs. Curious of the noise, Jestro pushed the covers off of himself and jumped out of bed. He followed the sound of talking accompanied by what he thought sounded like electrical tools. He made it to the top of the stairs when he heard the sound of Magmars' voice.

"Yes; put that over there."

Jestro raised an eyebrow when he noticed where that came from. He looked at the large door at the top of the stairs. 'No way' he thought. He knew the dark arena was behind that door, but after the curse was put on them, no one went in anymore. Jestro slowly pushed the large door open. He peeked in to see something that surprised him. The monsters were in the dark arena, but they were doing something very unexpected. They were changing it. Some of it was already changed. I chandelier was being lifted and pulled up to the ceiling by Burnzie and Beast Master; probably one they stole when they were still human. The big pit of lava in the middle was gone and replaced with marble tiling. Jestro could not think of how they did that, but questioning it might give him a headache. The old banisters were being taking down and being replaced with more fancy and welcoming ones and decorations were being set up. Jestro saw Magmar in the middle of it all; looking over everyone and making sure everything was in order.

"Book Keeper, don't lift that by yourself; got Sparkks to do it!" The general called out. "Good job, Burnzie and Beast Master; you're doing very well with that chandelier!"

Jestro opened the door a little and entered. No one noticed him because they were busy.

"What's all this?" He asked curiously.

Magmar and the other monsters turned their attention to the doorway; falling silent when they saw their master standing there in his pyjamas. Lavaria stepped forward and spoke up.

"You're up early, Jestro." She answered.

"Yeah, you usually sleep till ten." Flama added.

Jestro just shrugged before replying.

"I noticed the dark arena looks different." He pointed out the obvious.

"Well there's a reason behind that, master." Magmar answered back. "Book Keeper came up with a plan that could help you win Mr Mooringtons' affections."

Jestro saw Book Keeper smile and wave from the corner of the now changed arena. He tilted his head in confusion.

"What kind of plan?" He questioned curiously and worryingly.

At that moment, Clay was on the other side of the door. Magmar was about to explain.

"Well you see, master. We turned the arena into a ballroom and we think-"

Clay walked through the door before Magmar could finish. He and the other monsters froze when they saw the knight. Jestro turned to see him looking in wander at the new room. Clay put his hands on his hips; admiring the interior of the arena turned ballroom.

"This is a lovely ballroom." The knight commented.

The monsters smiled to themselves and each other while Jestro played with his pyjama sleeve nervously.

"Well, actually it's-"

"A room we haven't used in a very long time!" Whiparella finished the jesters’ sentence.

"So we figured we should clean it up and put it to some use." Lavaria added.

Jestro looked at the two monsters on his sides and shook nervously.

"Y-yeah." He spoke meekly. "It actually looks good enough for a dance."

He nervously laughed as the monsters looked at him with weird faces.

"Sure."

Jestro and the monsters went wide eyed. They all looked at Clay as he smiled a little.

"What'd you say?" Flama and Moltor asked.

"I would like to have a dance here. What time do you want me here?" Clay answered politely.

Jestro stared at the knight as the colour in his face darkened again. The jester was about to answer.

"How about ten a clock tonight?" Lavaria answered before her Master could; making him froze in place.

Clay smiled at everyone.

"Alright; I'll see you there." He said before leaving to train before breakfast.

When Clay left the room, all the monsters cheered among themselves; giving each other high fives while Jestro stood there frozen.

"I knew we could do it!" Lavaria sounded triumphant.

"Should be smooth sailing from here!" Flama smiled greatly. "Right, J-man?"

Instead of replying, Jestro just went limp and fainted; falling backwards into Burnzies’ arms rather comically. Everyone looked with concern while Magmar rubbed his forehead.

"Oh dear." The general muttered to himself.

[sleepwalkwith-me]

rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people

— What was your last…

1. Drink: Coffee

2. Phone call: a friend called me because she took the bus to my house but she didn’t really know where she had to go

3. Text message: i asked a friend what we would give this other friend for his birthday (surprise, we ended on money. how original amirite?!?!)

4. Song you listened to: mystery of love – sufjan stevens (did i cry listening to this??????? maybe)

5. Time you cried: oh. well. listening to mystery of love haha. i saw call me by your name two days ago and idk why but this song just HITS ME LIKE A TRUCK

__ Have you ever…

6. Dated someone twice: i have never actually dated anyone

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nah mate no regrats

8. Been cheated on: like i said, have never dated anyone, so no.

9. Lost someone special: yes

10. Been depressed: not really, i haven’t been diagnosed or anything. but sometimes i feel like there’s definitely something up with that brain of mine.

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yes. 10/10 would not recommend.

— Fave colours

12. black

13. green

14. yellow

— In the last year have you…

15. Made new friends: yessss. i started a new study in a new city, so i met loads of new people. i’m lucky enough to call some of them very close friends already :)

16. Fallen out of love: Love?????? no. but this year i got over this big crush (iguess? a bit more than just a crush lol) that kinda dominated my life for a year or two.

17. Laughed until you cried: i don’t even remember what it was about but yesterdayme and my friend marijn were in the weirdest mood where everything was funny as heck

18. Found out someone was talking about you: no not really? i mean people probably do but who cares you know

19. Met someone who changed you: i wouldn’t say completely ‘changed’ me, but one of my new friends from university does make me a more WokeTM person so i think that counts as positive change right?

20. Found out who your friends are: not in a bad way, but i graduated high school this year, so now i realise that i don’t speak to a few of my old friends anymore and that they were just friends because i saw them everyday.

21. Kissed someone on your facebook friends list: yeh.

— General

22. How many of your facebook friends do you know irl: All of them.

23. Do you have any pets: Noooo, i used to have cute lil bunnies but i have been pet-less for about 8 years i think :(

24. Do you want to change your name: nah. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have the dutch ‘ij’ in my name bc it’s had for non-dutch people to pronounce, but that also makes it cool i guess

25. What did you do for your last birthday: i had 2 exams on my birthday haha, so that was my main activity. But afterwards I went out for dinner and drinks with my friends which was very nice <3

26. What time did you wake up today: 6:30 and i DID NOT LIKE IT

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: downstairs, in my house, pouring myself a tea before going to bed. i came home from a symposium at 23:30 so i needed a little chill out time before i could go to bed

28. What is something you can’t wait for: lots of things!!! things that are happening in the near future, like going to the efteling (dutch themepark) with my friends in a few weeks, going out tomorrow, spending this weekend at my sisters house in amsterdam, or going to mallorca with mah gurlz this summer. But also i can’t wait for things like falling in love!! meeting people that will be in your life forever!!! moving to Utrecht!!! 

30. What are you listening to right now: my mom and dad talking about books they are reading, and the radio (radio 4, classical music) is playing in the background

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: weirdly; no??? at first i was like yeah ofc everyone knows someone named tom but then i couldn’t think of anyone???? weird dude.

32. Something that’s getting on your nerves: my own stupid ass bc there are a million things i should be doing rn but what am i doing????? filling in this tag bc i’m selfobsessed ha ha lol

33. Most visited website: tumblr or netflix i think

34. Hair colour: Blonde

35. Long or short hair: not like Really Long but it’s over my shoulders so idk

36. Do you have a crush on someone: i’m crushing 24/7 honey, whether it’s on a celebrity, or a cute guy from my class, or even someone that has been even the tiniest bit nice to me haha what’s wrong with me??? idk i love people man

37. What do you like about yourself: i’m always trying to see the good in people, which some people don’t really see as a positive thing and they tell me that it’s gonna get me screwed over or something but idk i think it’s a good thing

38. Want any piercings: atm i have 3 earrings in my left ear, 2 in my right, and also a helix piercing in my right ear. and boiiiiii do i want more! i really like earpiercings but idk which one to get next yet

39. Blood type: don’t know actually. is that weird? is that something i should know? oh well

40. Nicknames: depends on who i’m with, but a few are: karlit, karliño, karlinna, kar(rie), carlos, and heyitscarry (that’s my snapchat, everyone makes fun of me for it lol), 

41. Relationship status: single

42. Sign: ~~*aquarius*~~

43. Pronouns: she/her

44. Fave tv show: it’s usually the one i’m watching at the moment, but a few overall favs are brooklyn nine-nine, new girl, american horror story, teen wolf, queer eye (!!!), jane the virgin, shadowhunters (i know it’s shit but MALEC IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME ALIVE RN), and oh my i could go on. idk, i just really love shows in general; good or ‘bad’, if they make me happy i’m instantly like ‘yup just found my new fav show!!!’

45. Tattoos: sadly, no

46. Right or left handed: righty

47: Ever had surgery: yeah once when i was little, i think i had something with my ear but i don’t even really know

48. Piercings: like i said, just my ears; 3 normal ones on the left, 2 normal ones + a helix on the right

49. Sport: not anymore whoops but i used to dance and do this weird sport called wheel gymnastics. look it up, it’s fun.

50. Vacation: what about it?? uhmmm upcoming ones are a 3 day trip to berlin with this huge student organisation in may, and a week in mallorca with my friends this summer.

51. Trainers: as in.. shoes? like.. sneakers?? idk, don’t own them. i usually wear converse in summer and my fake dr. martins or my heels in winter i guess haha

— More general

52. Eating: rn? nothing, just had dinner tho

53. Drinking: coffeeeee

54. I’m about to watch: the flash, 3x04 

55. Waiting for: my deadlines and exams to be over so i can do nothing without feeling guilty

56. Want: ???? so many things?????

57. Get married: uhmmmmmmmmmmm not yet 

58. Career: well i don’t have one if that’s what you’re asking. but i’m studying sociology so idk i hope to get a job where i can use my sociology-skills

— Which is better

59. Hugs or kisses: both plz 

60. Lips or eyes: eyes

61. Shorter or taller: shorter

62. Older or younger: ?????

63. Nice arms or stomach: arms fuck me the fuck up

64. Hookup or relationships: depends??? 

65. Troublemaker or hesitant: i think a combination of both would be good

— Have you ever

66. Kissed a stranger: ya

67. Drank hard liquor: ya

68. Turned someone down: ya

69. Sex on first date: i’m a big ol’ virgin waddup

70: Broken someone’s heart: yes, sadly.

71. Had your heart broken: notreally

72. Been arrested: haha no 

73. Cried when someone died: yes

74. Fallen for a friend: yessssssss 

— Do you believe in

75. Yourself: i go from yes! i am that bitch! to hell no who is this and what does she think she’s doing 

76. Miracles: i mean, not in a religious way or anything. but i think it’s a cute way of naming small, nice, alsmost-impossible things that happen 

77. Love at first sight: i think you can definitely FEEL that you are going to click with someone just by looking at them, but love? no.

78. Santa Claus: in the netherlands we have a slightly different holiday that we celebrate (don’t worry, we also have christmas) where there’s also a man that gives you presents and such. i don’t really remember but my mom always tells me that i very quickly didn’t buy the impossible things surrounding this Sinterklaas. i would always ask questions like; but HOW THE FUCK does he get to every child in ONE NIGHT??? (well maybe i didn’t ask it like that but.. you get it)

79. Angels: nah

— Misc

80. Eye colour: blue

81. Best friends name: Kim, vienna, femke, and estelle

82. Favourite movie: i don’t like ‘favourite’ questions bc i cannot choose man. it totally depends on what kind of movie we’re talking about??? like, i love movies like 17again and mean girls and high school musical? but i also loove movies like call me by your name??? and things like harry potter??? WHAT KIND ARE WE TALKING ABOUT

83. Favourite actor: again... favourite?? there are actors that i think are really talented, there are some that i just like as a person, there are some that i like just bc they play this character? the one that came to mind was dylan o’brien, bc i think beside his looks and nice personality he is an amazing actor (stiles! VOIDSTILES! Mitch rapp! Thomas! wauw what a guy)

84. Favourite cartoon: i don’t really watch cartoons i a m so r ry

85. Favourite teacher’s name: Meneer van Leeuwen. He was my philosophy teacher, but he also teaches physics and ANW (algemene natuurwetenschappen, was BESTE OOIT), and he was my mentor (not the right word sorry idk) for this big endproject that you have to do at the end of highschool in the netherlands). he was truly the BESt.

Thank you @foolishly-fond for tagging me! i’m always a slut for filling things in about myself l o l so i enjoyed doing this. 

I don’t really know who i should tag, and 20 people is a LOT so youknow, consider yourself tagged if you feel like doing this :) x

[verba-vintage]

Ten Reasons Why You Should Do Everything At Once

Today I was sitting in a lecture listening to my teacher bemoan the productivity of a colleague. This colleague (whose name I couldn’t bother to write down) is on the short list for the Nobel Prize, has written dozens of books in his spare time and holds down a demanding teaching job at a prestigious school while raising a family and participating actively in various leagues, committees and so forth. My teacher kept saying of his books, “He wrote that one IN HIS SPARE TIME! His SPARE TIME!”

Have you ever met one of these people? Someone who has many lives at the same time and they seem to be pulling them all off? They can do just about everything and with so much style and class we can’t approach their greatness even on our best days?

I look to these people for help. Right now (and for the last three years) I have taken on everything at the same time without any thought (or iota of caring) as to if this was healthy or not.

Oh, I’ve heard all the arguments. “It’s better to go in one direction at fifty miles an hour than five directions at one mile an hour.” and “Don’t be a jack of all trades and master of none.” I mostly ignore these arguments.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that I have a working DNA that, no matter how much good advice I get to the contrary, is not budging. For instance, I realized after years of trying, that I am not a morning person and waking up at 4 am is stupid for me. I now ignore all the studies and character assessments labeling early birds as the indomitable masters of reality. Screw them and watch the moon set, is my new motto.

I’ve also tried doing one thing at a time. That does not work for me. I need at least three pigs on the spit at a time, maybe four. I need at least hopes, three directions. This helps me in the following ways:

1. I never get bored. There is always way too much to do and I always have a direction. This is incredibly important to me. As Morrissey says, I am “Drawn to what scares me and scared of what bores me.”

2. If one direction is going badly (and this happens weekly) I have the hope of the other two. Today, I woke up at 6 am and wrote 3,000 words–every one of which stunk hardcore. But I had great sales and my classes weren’t too shabby. Hope remains. Tomorrow the writing will go well but my professors will throw a pop quiz at me on which I will do semi-terribly. Doesn’t matter because the writing will have gone great.

3. I am forced to become ridiculously efficient, or perish. I have to think of every cog and every slot of time and I have to think really carefully about how my systems work. I have to continually question assumptions and obliterate the ones that don’t serve my outcomes. A recent one had to do with destroying the belief that slow writing is great writing. This is not always the case, I am learning. Every day I am finding new corners to smooth out and new systems to implement.

4. I get to practice the art of “Intuitive Procrastination.” This means I may not have time this week for the dental appointment, so I have to put it off, but I do have time to finish the artwork on a cover because I cleared out the day for that task. I may not get to answering that annoying customer, but I will get a paper written. In all things I must assess the ocean of my tasks and determine which objects therein are rocks and which are sand. The rocks are hard deadlines, immovable. You don’t want to crash into them. The “sand” are tasks that time will smooth over and eventually become obsolete–things like dental appointments and naggy emails from corporations to update your credit card information. If I do them today or next week, it won’t matter much.

5. It obliterates depression. On weeks where I get a lot done and have a lot of great interactions, I feel like I have a purpose, and thus feel fantastic. The feeling of no direction is the twin brother to existential meaninglessness and sends me off a nihlist cliffside. Then I’m no good for anyone and tend to pin down friends and family with long verbal essays on the nature of existence and reality and the tragedy of being a thinking being without being an all-understanding being. This behavior horrifies everyone around me. It’s so much better to have a wall to paint or a typewriter to restore. If I am chasing carrots, there is no death.

6. They feed eachother. Oftentimes in my classes I have learned about a painter or artist and can therefore recognize their work, should I come across a print or poster or . . . gasp! The real thing. I hear about philosophical principles that I can work into some fiction. Today I met a guy who is in a fight club. He has califlour ears and everything. His knowledge will help me write my next non-fic book about argument.

7. Things take too long to pay off. I realized that even if I put in 10x effort at the beginning, I won’t get 10x outcome. Effort and reward are often terribly disproportional, mostly because systems are set up to keep newbies out. I can’t get a bachelor’s degree in a year, even if never sleep. The fact is, I can only sign up for 21 credits at a time. Sure, I could triple up by drawing credits from other schools, but most schools don’t let you do that past your generals. Likewise, if I open a new online store, I can list 2,000 items the first day, but I will not make many sales, if any. I have to slowly send out little advertising birdies and accumulate customers first. Because things can take years, I put in effort proportional to the current outcome, plus one. That plus one represents growth. In the random case that things pay off right away (and this has happened!) then, grand! I struck gold.

8. Davinci, the bearded badass himself, was never just one thing, but had many careers, inventions, talents and directions. If I can be like him in any way, I’ll take it . . . Except the beard.

9. Time flies. If you’re waiting for spring. If you’re waiting for the ship to come in. If you’re in the waiting place at all, this is a good way to wait. You hardly notice the time flying. Now, our pseudo-Buddhist-meditating-spiritualist-snob culture extols the virtues of being “in the moment” but to be honest, I want to live in all the moments at once. Tried the whole “being in the moment” thing and I think it’s an idealist concept that never really materializes. Currently, I’m waiting for summer so I can hike again. I’m waiting for stocks to go up. I’m waiting for my next trip. I’m waiting for the end of the semester. I’m waiting for Sharknado 11.

10. I don’t have time for vice. I don’t have time to gossip with the neighbors. I don’t have time to watch the Real Housewives of Burly Idaho (though I’d watch the heck outta that IF it existed), I don’t have time to shop, I don’t have time to make mischief. I DO take time for myself, though, in ways that count harder. I do have time to think and vacation and hang out with people. I don’t have time to waste.

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