#BUT THEYRE NOT WIND CHIMES I KNOW THEYRE NOT WIND CHIMES I THINK?????

[triglycercule]

sure horror playing the drums is cool but i think he would absolutely devour on a synthesizer

(also dust should totally get to play the organ too,,, keyboard buds :3)

[philtstone]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

tagged by @firstelevens

no pressure tagging @sesamestreep @sayheykid @flyinghome-againstthewind @tllgrrl @walkinginland and also @carrotsofthepirabbean because i wanna see more of the worlds greatest Star Trek au xoxoxo

so im working on like 3 things at the same time because that always ends well? and theyre all currently in completely disjointed half-written snippets state, lol. here are 2 short bits from the most unserious one, aka the princess bride-inspired au i once told zainab about and then almost forgot completely until a week ago.

“Gus, I think I just communicated with a dead girl!”

I’m not dead!

“Aaah!” Shawn’s responding exclamation occurs at a much higher pitch than is objectively dignified. “What? No! What? Who – you!”

“Who?” asks Gus, wide-eyed.

“Jules?!” Shawn says, unsure to whom the question is directed. He looks wildly around, then up at the sky, then finally back down to the peaceful, round cheeked face smushed into the grass between them. Gingerly, he leans over and nudges her head to face the tree canopy instead.

Took you long enough to notice, says Juliet’s grumpy, disembodied voice. That was not a comfortable position, you two. So much for your druid lineage.

Shawn, staring googly-eyed at her motionless body, feels the bottom half of his jaw slowly drop open and hang on its hinge like a squeaky see-saw. 

“What are we staring at?” Gus whispers, from right behind his ear. Shawn is too catatonic with shock to startle.

“Gus … she’s talking to me.”

“Juliet?!”

Yes! says Juliet’s bright voice emphatically in Shawn’s head.

“Yes!” squeaks Shawn in a very manly fashion. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Ooooh my God. Gus! I’m not – I’m not actually a psychic. I don’t talk to spirits! I barely believe in spirits. Until five seconds ago the top job on my resume was a court jester position I never actually held!” He takes a big long deep breath and feels slightly dizzy. “Why can I hear her?”

“I don’t know!” say Gus and Juliet at the same time, in markedly different tones and registers. For one thing, Shawn can hear Gus using his eardrums. Juliet’s voice just echoes in his skull like a little wind chime. Shawn swoons, very mildly. Gus catches him.

“Where would I be without you, Gus,” Shawn mumbles, into his best friend’s tunic lapel.

**

and excerpt two ...

“Well,” announces Woody the Miracle Man. “Lucky for you two, the little lady is not, in fact, deceased.”

“You mean we haven’t just been carting a dead body around for two days like idiots?” Gus asks desperately.

“Huh. That’d explain why she still smells like peaches.” Shawn looks down at Juliet’s serene, not-dead face. Her long eyelashes fan out against her cheeks and her golden hair flutters and twirls around her face in the faint breeze from the open window. He absolutely does not sigh in an involuntary and relieved and heart-fluttery fashion.

It’s the oil I use for my scalp, Juliet chimes in helpfully.

“Shawn, focus,” says Gus. “If she’s not dead, what’s wrong with her?”

“Well,” says Woody. “That’s the thing. She’s not completely dead. She is a little bit mostly as much as one can be without dying dead. Isn’t that so fun? I love medicine.”

“Mostly dead?” Shawn asks incredulously. 

“On a percentage scale,” Gus starts, “whereabouts would you put her, exactly?”

Shawn hits him. 

“Oh, a hefty seventy-four. And a half, I’d say.”

Huh. Huh.

[yurideification]

Current draft of chapter 1. Feedback appreciated, doesn't necessarily have to be constructive (though would obviously be appreciated):

Beatrice I

In a cramped, filthy apartment, surrounded by food scraps of various types, a woman dressed in all gray and with visible bags under her eyes sat hunched over a half-broken ThinkPad. As she observed the green-tinted imageboard that was currently displayed on the screen and mulled over its contents, a cheeto-covered hand shot down onto the keyboard - its left counterpart busy shoveling more cheese puffs down the woman's throat. At the top of the website, a large banner image decorated with various pyramids and eyes read,

“/OC/ - OCCULT & ARCANE”

With a swift move of her free hand she moved the mouse cursor to a small rectangle labelled “REPLY”. She clicked on it, and a large text box appeared on the screen. Moments later, she began writing. 

"Look, personally, this is all very interesting, but I think you're putting too much emphasis on the contents of the dreams, rather than WHEN they're happening. The Age of Aquarius is coming soon, which means what you're hearing is obviously some higher form of Enochian, and at BEST it's probably demons."

Click. Post. 

Another argument saved, she thought to herself as she scrolled up to the top of the thread and started rereading what had started off the whole discussion. 

TITLE: NIGHTMARES?

DESCRIPTION:

“hello /OC/ !! ever since i was a teen ive been having weird dreams almost every night. ive never really thought about them deeply but maybe one of you /oc/cultists could help me figure out whats going on, so here goes nothing. theyre varied and have shifted over the years but theres some common elements i can guess will always come up when i fall asleep. the most notable though is the language. its not really a language, but really a feeling? but ive always thought about it as one. i see visions of random things, and i associate it with a thing, and sometimes hear a sound or feel an emotion, but its all so random i can never make sense of it.

i see a mountain and i hear what sounds like a clock ticking. then im struck with a feeling of euphoria and i see the mountain melting into a valley. i see an apple. then two, then four, then six and eight and twenty, and with each new one im struck with a feeling of absolute dread. i see the planet, and i see a very large worm crawling out of it while a pop song is playing. melancholy. i dont know what it means, but it clearly means something, and ive spent the last couple years trying it out but im not getting anywhere on my own. please help me.”

Nothing she hadn’t seen before, though the thought of there being a pattern in what at first seemed like just random noise intrigued her more than she perhaps at first would have liked to admit. Scrolling down to the bottom again, she passed by several more snippets of dreams that the author had posted in response to people asking for more details.

A house burning in reverse, wind chimes, deep insatiable lust. smell of blood. then the entire thing plays in reverse again.

A woman she didn't recognize that gradually morphed into a lawn chair, combined with a chemical smell.

Screaming for several straight seconds until she woke up in a cold sweat, with no other associated imagery.

Naturally, the thread was filled with hundreds of other people speculating about what it could possibly mean and arguing with each other, the cheeto-covered woman only being one of them - not even being the first to suggest that it might be the language of the angels. One particularly persistent user kept spamming links to their self-published e-book about "Dream Linguistics: The Hidden Language of the Unconscious Mind." Another claimed they'd had the exact same dreams in 1987 and that they predicted the stock market crash that year.

"Classic hypnagogic hallucinations combined with sleep paralysis. Take some magnesium and try sleeping on your right side."

"The worm is obviously Ouroboros imagery, but inverted. Have you been experimenting with any chaos magick recently? IMPORTANT."

"Sounds like standard astral projection gone wrong. I can help but you'll need to wire me 500 crowns first for the proper materials."

"Anyone who says this isn't related to the planetary alignments is a fed or a fool. Look up the Ophiuchus Protocol."

The person at the computer finished scrolling down to the bottom, and hit refresh. The page took a bit to reload, but when it finished, there was a new reply.

“hey everyone, OP here. I really appreciate all the help, and youve all been really wonderful, but im gonna stop replying now. its late, and i need to get to sleep. im still not really sure what all the dreams are but i do feel somewhat closer to an answer. good night !!”

Over so soon after I found it, the woman thought to herself. 

Disappointing.

Upon having read it over a few times, she closed her laptop with a sigh, and laid down on it with her arms folded. Without the light of the laptop screen the room was pitch black - no lights were on, nothing shining in from the open windows subtly guiding the cool night air into the 11th floor apartment. If they were on, perhaps you'd be able to see the absolute mess on the floor. The scattered clothes, the filthy, days-old dishes stacked on the floor after they stopped fitting on the desk, the even older takeout containers and miscellaneous beer bottles. The occasional discarded cigarette pack, some visibly crushed. 

Here and there, evidence of her various obsessions littered the floor - tarot cards scattered like fallen leaves, crystals gathering dust in the corners, half-burned candles dripped onto printouts of ancient symbols. A dream journal lay open on the coffee table, its pages covered in cramped handwriting that grew increasingly erratic towards the margins. Books on symbolism and mythology formed precarious towers against the walls, their spines cracked from repeated consultation.

In the entrance hallway, having been covered by the same jacket for several weeks, there laid an unopened letter.

To Bea, with love ~

Adeline and Missy

A personalized hell, of sorts. 

As if straining against the dark itself, Beatrice raised herself up slowly and stretched for a few seconds, before letting her arms fall down again. She stared dead-eyed into the wall that had previously been blocked by her laptop screen, and then got up. Carefully, as to not step on anything that'd puncture her feet or make her slip, she walked through the apartment and out the open door onto her balcony - if it could even be called that. In truth, it was far too small, and only had barely enough space for someone to stand on. Her bare feet hit the outside exposed concrete, and she rested her arms on the metal of the outcropping, taking in the city outside.

It was beautiful, and so, so very large. Saint Vincent was one of the largest cities on the Magellanic east coast, and the cultural and economic capital of the Federation of Victoria, only surpassed by true giants such as Goldbridge and Sun City. Beatrice's apartment building, situated at the top of the large hill the city was built on, had a perfect view of its enormous, sprawling mass - The May Bridge on the far side, going into Greater Toone, and before that, all the various city districts;

There was Bayside right near the bridge, with its tall, imposing financial skyscrapers and the mayoral tower somehow towering above all of them, in turn bordered by The Lows and Little Vincent - the “rich kid’s club” - districts characterized by their large hotels, casinos and multi million-crown expensive mega-mansions that faced the bay. Go back in the direction you came from and you'd eventually reach Huttons, the former cultural and artistic center of the city, but whose prices were now rising to the point that it was becoming almost impossible for any actual artists to live there, although it still had some of the best bars in the city. In recent years there'd been sporadic attempts to de-gentrify it, but naturally all of those had failed at the hands of the very wealthy investors in the district who didn't want “criminals” to move in. 

Bordering Huttons was Bayside again, Central, characterized mostly by being home to the city's train hub and university - named, predictably enough, Vincent university - and the Lower Hills, where Beatrice currently resided. Beyond even here there was the Upper Hills, Teodora and the industrial district - colloquially called the smogs - and eventually Outer Vincent with its large, sprawling suburbia.

But really, who cares about a bunch of faceless smoke stacks and single family homes, Beatrice thought to herself. 

A cigarette was lit, the flame of her cheap lighter briefly illuminating her sunken face in the darkness. For a couple minutes, she stayed like that, silent, observing. It was a beautiful star-lit night, occasionally interrupted by something new from below - a cough, a shout, a police siren. More distant bangs than was perhaps usual. The kids playing down on the street below, their giggles and laughter softly echoing up to her.

A car whizzed by, its bright lights cutting through the night like knives through butter. 

The city breathed around her, alive with all its secret rhythms and hidden patterns, indifferent to her presence on the edge of it all. 

Eventually, with a sigh, Beatrice threw the cigarette over the edge and walked back into her pitch-black apartment, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. She stood there for a long moment, the door hard against her back, when suddenly, something echoed out and disturbed the dark stillness of the apartment. A pling, just once. Then again - pling.  It took her a moment to figure out what it was, and then, it hit.

My phone? Is someone trying to contact me? Fuck off… when was the last time I heard that sound? I should set it on do not disturb when I can…

Lumbering slowly, she made her way through the apartment, into the bedroom where her phone was sitting on a bedside table. Picking it up and holding it in her hand her first thought went to spam, and a soft irritation started growing inside her - then, however, she properly read the messages, and that irritation rapidly shifted into something resembling curiosity. 

“BEATRICE SCHWARZ: YOU have been graciously selected for an invitation to a ONCE IN AN AEON OPPORTUNITY. At VICTORIA MEMORIAL PARK, on the TWENTY-SECOND of NOVEMBER in the year 235, at 23:00, the GREAT SERENISSIMA will give YOU AN EXPERIENCE YOU CAN NEVER FORGET. (entrance fee: 50 crowns.)”

What is this, a circus or something?, Beatrice thought incredulously. She looked at the time. 

22:27.

Shit. 

Panicking, she rushed out into the hallway and put on the dirty, crumpled jacket that laid near the door. Five minutes later, she was down on the street. 

✿

As she walked, the city's geography unfolded around her like a well-worn map. She passed by the 24-hour laundromat with its eternal fluorescent glow, through the small park where the local cats held their midnight conferences, across the bridge over the commuter rail tracks that carried thousands of suburban workers into Central each morning. Each landmark, though familiar to her, simultaneously felt oddly strange - like seeing old friends again, an uncomfortable kind of nostalgia. It made her yearn for the comfort of her apartment again, though curiosity overpowered her every step of the way. 

The neon sign of Lucky's Corner Store buzzed and flickered as she walked by, its proprietor visible through the grimy windows, engaged in his nightly ritual of reorganizing the same shelf of canned goods he'd been fussing with for the past decade. She'd bought her first tarot deck there, hidden behind the counter with the cigarettes and lottery tickets. Mr. Lucky – not his real name, she assumed – had given her a knowing look as he rang it up, but never commented on her increasingly esoteric purchases she'd made over the years.

Victoria Memorial Park sat at the intersection of old money and new decay, a remnant of the city's more genteel past now caught in the undertow of urban change. During the day, it maintained a careful veneer of respectability with its manicured lawns and historical plaques. But at night, the old iron gates and overgrown corners revealed its true nature – a place where the city's carefully maintained boundaries began to blur.

As she approached the park's entrance, movement caught her eye – others were converging on the park from different directions. A woman in an expensive business suit, her heels clicking purposefully on the pavement. A teenager with a backpack covered in hand-drawn symbols. An elderly man leaning on a carved wooden cane that looked more ceremonial than practical. None of them acknowledged each other, but all moved with the same deliberate purpose.

The park's central lawn opened up before her, and there, in the soft glow of the antique lampposts, she saw them. Arranged in a perfect circle were perhaps two dozen people, seated on the ground. They were as diverse a group as Saint Vincent could produce – she spotted suits that probably cost more than her monthly rent sitting next to tattered thrift store jackets, gray-haired professors next to teenagers with dyed hair and facial piercings. Some sat straight-backed and alert, while others seemed to slouch with exhaustion or disinterest. All of them, however, faced inward, their attention focused on something in the center of the circle that Bea couldn't quite make out from her current position.

The air felt different here – thicker somehow, charged with an expectation that made the hair on the back of Bea's neck stand up. This wasn't like the amateur séances and half-hearted rituals she'd participated in before. This felt real. She took a step forward, and the circle parted to make room for one more. As she moved to take her place, she caught a glimpse of what lay in the center of the circle, and immediately felt an emotion she felt like hadn’t felt in years - not since she got that letter from her uncle, all those years ago.

Confusion.

[lakesbian]

aisha significantly prefers shorts just bc of personal taste. the part where people are weird and gross and annoying to her about it (including brian being like Aisha People Can See Your Butt Go Put On Longer Shorts) (he's saying it out of concern 4 her but it's still shitty) is something she would actually rather not have happen. so her being anti-pants bc it pisses off brian is like. a coincidental side-thing that she leans into because she's upset by Society's Response To Her Preferred Clothing and that's how she responds to being upset about it. but she wears what she wears first and foremost because she likes it.

real and cosigned about taylor she's totally walking around with massive skirts that look like they Should be flowing around in the wind but theyre just. weirdly weighed down and its because she has 10000 bugs in there crawling all over her bare legs and the fabric. she specifically likes how it's easier for them to exit en masse out of the bottom & avoid being squished.

brian could admit he wants to watch tv in his boxers there's no reason he doesn't think that's a normal thing to do. like he's busy a lot but he's been seen watching tv in sweatpants or boxers once or twice in the loft. Normal Boy Who Does Normal Things but i mean the "normal" part genuinely this time. i think his ass would wear cargo shorts. like in a hypothetical scenario where he goes on a nice vacation with aisha and their lives don't suck she keeps buying souvenirs and snacks and soft drinks and handing them off to brian and he just keeps putting all of them in his cargo shorts. he acts performatively annoyed that she's not carrying her own shit but deep down he's like "this is great. this is exactly what cargo shorts are meant for" while he walks around jingling and jangling

i don't actually think alec would make that joke, but he does hold vitriolic levels of annoyance against how skirts & dresses restrict leg movement + how bad it sucks to use a urinal in one. i'm sure someone on here who wears skirts and uses toilets standing up could inform me that it's actually very easy but i have faith in alec's ability to fail at figuring it out nonetheless. so he usually wears tights/leggings/jeggings or shorts but sometimes he tosses a short skirt over top of his leggings 4 a bit of extra frill. he has a vendetta against rompers for similar reasons. he thinks it's really fucked up and evil that someone would make a cute visually him-catered item of clothing and then make it so you literally have to get naked to use the bathroom while wearing it. when he and brian were shopping during the fugly bobs trip he tried to have a friendly conversation with brian after they stopped to use the bathroom by talking about it and brian was like Well it wouldn't be a problem if you just dressed normally right? as a genuine attempt to helpfully problem-solve for him

i think lisa isn't exasperated by silly teenage discussions she just sort of like. watches from a distance and occasionally chimes in with something clever without taking a side unless her taking a side would back taylor up. but deep down she really likes pajama pants and thinks it's annoying how tights keep bunching up and being. you know. Tight. she still keeps wearing them tho.

i think rachel would contribute to this depending on what part of the story it's taking place in btw, i could see her participating by explaining the Many Benefits Of Pants (better for riding dogs) (better for running around punching people in) (et cetera). and she would be satisfied with herself when everyone nods and agrees with her.

fine theres your stupid fucking undersiders pants post everyone i hope you all like it. <- had fun but not going to admit it

now im curious. which undersiders ARE anti-pants or pro-pants. this interests me

none of them are fucking anti-pants they're supervillains they have to run around in armored pants every day of their life so they can rob banks without tripping and going to jail there are many dumb debates the undersiders would have opinions about but this is not one of them

[spohkh]

miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]

so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!! 

ehehehe :-) enjoy!

read on AO3

The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.

There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.

“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”

The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.

The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.

Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”

“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. “She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”

Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.

“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.

“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.

“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.

“What?”

“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.

Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.

“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”

“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”

Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.

“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.

Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”

“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.

Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.

As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”

Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.

Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.

Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.

“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”

“What, am I not good enough?”

“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”

Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall—“

“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”

Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”

“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.

Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”

“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”

“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”

Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.

Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”

“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.

Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”

“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”

“Uh, with your bathroom.”

“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”

“Wha— N—  I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”

“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”

“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”

“You took a shit in the sink?”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”

“What? He started it.”

“Started WHAT?”

Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”

“Oh! My god!”

“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”

Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.

“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”

“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”

Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.

The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”

“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.

Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”

Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”

Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.

But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.

Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.

[violetnotez]

I was wondering 👉👈 what do you think of someone having a singing quirk?

Honestly....i have NO singing abilities so I  wierdly have imagine how cool it would be to have that type of quirk? 

Like-here me out on this little sceneario....

---------------

Your in training, a total newbie to Class 1-A. You had just transferred from another Class as your teacher had seen great potential in you from your work...your quirk wasnt as loud or flashy as 1-A, but it definitely had merit for itself. You were desperate to get into 1-A, and now you were just desperate to prove yourself to be worthy enough to stay.

But now it didnt feel so easy- Bakugo stood in front of you, (we all knew I was going to pick Bakugo no surprise there) daunting and menacing as ever, taunting you with his words.

“The hell-how a small fry like you trasnfer into 1-A?” he said haughtily, his voice almost like a knife, slicing into you with its judgement. 

It was your first day in Class 1-A- and as luck would have it, you were forced to spar with Katsuki Bakugo, the resident asshole of the whole class in a match similar to the duels of the Sports Festival. The rules were simple- push your enemy out of the designated “arena” area.

Simple enough...but when your partner is hell bent over winning and taunting you the whole time about how insignificant you were when compared to him, it really made you less than optimistic about a win.

Oh goodie.

You took a deep breathe, your throat forcing down a ball of dry saliva....

vocal chords need cant be dry, you chanted in your mind, that’ll just screw over your quirk if they did.....

Voices began to be heard....a boy with spiky red hair chuckled nervously, trying to reassure you that “Bakugo” didnt mean what he was saying, he just had a “strong personality”

Another with freckles and green hair gulped loudly, all color seeming to drain from his face as a boy with blue hair furiously berated him for being so “disrespectful to our fellow classmates”....

The others whispered, staring at you expectantly... what were you going to do, challenged with this threat in front of you? Bakugo was notorious for being the self proclaimed “next #1 hero” of Class 1-A, everyone in UA torn between hating his guts and admiring his skill. 

“What-not gonna say anything back?” ha taunted, his canines flashing in a wicked grin, “I should have known, someone like you has no fucking place to be he-   he       here-”

The once glaring Katsuki was now suddenly wided eyed- 

there was a song being played,             so muffled,              as if someone had put cotton in his ears-

“My heart is pierced by Cupid,”

He looked frantically in each direction, desperately searching for that voice-what the hell was even happening?

The....the wide blue sky wasnt clear anymore....no...it was-was almost like a burning sunset, a vivid dream, the sky now a hazy purple shooting up to a bright, vibrant orange. It was so strange, so soothing....al  anger melted from his body, his limbs relaxing....

I disdain all glittering gold

The song was getting louder           the more he succumbed to the sound....he actually        -enjoyed-this-      it was so strange, so different, so sweet to listen to....the voice was enchanting,,,,,, melodic,,,,,,,entoxicating.....

There is nothing can console me

A figure was emerging from the fog, its presence rippling the soothing patterns, the mist almost as if coming from their being.

 His vermillion eyes sleepily trained themselves on the figure, his heart beating like a steady drum in his chest....

Its them. They're the voice- 

theyre presence was so soothing, so warm, so inviting..... 

Bakugo somehow found his feet were moving on there own accord,

 clunky as if being controlled from an invisible force

 guiding him to the person he wanted to be to now the most-

Each step made the song louder, making his heart race and glee fill his chest...                  who were they?                What did they look like?                  What did they feel like?                          Oh, god he just wanted to know...so, so badly....

“But my jolly sailor bold”

Bakugo gasped audibly, a feeling like being dunked in freezing col water shooting through his body. 

“What the hell-” he sputtered out, his eyes wild and head spinning. The voice, the fog, the-the person....what was all that-

“Whoa-Katsuki is out!”

A deep, terrible horror washed over Bakugo, his eyes slowly looking down, almost too scared  to look....his classmates began gasping, whispering, pointing down at his feet-

He-he was passed the line, a full foot away from the blaring yellow line that was now behind his reach-

He lost.

Shock turned into frustration, frustration turned to anger, and anger turned to fury.....

So Bakugo did what he knew best

“THE HELL YOU DO TO ME HUH?! THE HELL-HOW DID YOU-” he shrieked at you, his voice oozing out hatred and embarrasment.

It was you. You-your were that voice....that ringing in his ear....how could something so beautiful and so dangerous come from someone as puny as you? You had no flashy quirk, you had nothing that made you more special than him...

But somehow....you beat him....and he couldn't even fight back.....he let you-

He fucking allowed you to beat him and make him look like a fool.

“Its my power,” you stated plainly, a small, annoying ass  smirk gracing your lips. “It allows me to sing and control anyone’s perception of reality. As long as I sing, I can control them.”

You smiled once again, your voice like wind chimes in his ear.

“My quirk name- is Siren.”

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Doesn't realize theyre injured + buddie

I WROTE THREE QUARTERS OF THIS AND TUMBLR DELETED IT IM GONNA KMS // cishets DNI

Everyone is looking at him weird from the moment he walks into the station. It’s that strange, unreadable something that he hates having to try and deal with because it’s never good, is the thing. They looked at him like that after Shannon died. He figures he must be paranoid, though, because no one’s hurt, and he’s on edge from going fighting last night to blow off some steam. Eddie knows if they knew it would be the end of everything. Bobby would suspend, maybe fire him. None of the crew would speak to him anymore, including Buck, and just thinking about that makes him feel a little sick.

He can feel their eyes on him as he goes into the locker room to drop off his bag and finish buttoning up his uniform. Usually he keeps the top two or three undone, unless they’re on a call, but if they’re all going to look at him, he needs to be perfect. It was like that in the army. Fuck up one thing, perfect everything else so that you’re still useful. Viable. Making his uniform pristine will make it easier to face them, and maybe ease whatever emotion has them all staring at him like that.

They’re all still looking when he goes up to the balcony for breakfast. Bobby’s cooking, the others sitting around with their coffee and talking until they see him. There it is again. Buck stands up slowly and approaches Eddie the same way he approaches children- crouching a little to a lower height, hands up and out in a ‘surrender’ motion- trying to appear non threatening. He places his hands on Eddie’s shoulder and looks in his eyes. 

“Eddie,” he says gently, “I need you to sit down for me.”

His heart drops. That’s never good. “Did- did something happen to Christopher? Abuela?” They’re supposed to be at home, not even awake yet because it’s a weekend. If something happened- that’s why they’re all looking at him. No, no, he can’t do this again. 

“Hey, no. They’re alright. Just breathe.”

Buck herds Eddie toward the couch, making him sit. Over his shoulder Bobby turns off the stove, and a moment later, Hen and Chimney appear. Chimney has the medical bag slung over his shoulder, and they’re both wearing blue nitrile gloves. When they get closer, Buck moves to sit beside Eddie, holding his hand loosely so the two of them can kneel in front of them.

The first thing Hen does is shine her pen light into his eyes, and it’s so much brighter than normal. He flinches from it, but she still waits a bit longer before putting it aside, murmuring something he doesn’t hear, and getting the saline bottle from the bag. 

“Hey, Eddie. Baby.

That gets Eddie’s attention. Buck has never called him baby before. It’s nice, though, and he turns his head to the side to look at him while Hen stills Eddie’s chin with one hand. She squeezes the saline bottle over the side of his head with the other. 

“Does your head hurt?”

“No? Why would it?”

Hen presses her lips together in a thin line and sets aside the saline in favor of a folded square of gauze, which she presses up against his head. Chimney speaks next. “Do you remember where you went after work last night, Eddie? What you did?”

He went fighting, but he absolutely can’t tell them that. So he says it doesn’t matter. Buck sighs and squeezes his hand as Hen shows him the gauze, stained rusty red-brown. He’s bleeding. He didn’t hit his head while fighting last night, though. Got the shit kicked out of him, sure, but he would have known if he had a head injury or something. He’s not that oblivious to his body, no matter how good he’s always been at suppressing pain.

“Look at me, Eddie,” Chimney says, his voice maddeningly slow. “You have a pretty nasty head injury. Your pupils are fixed, you’re still bleeding, and you’re in shock. We’re going to bring you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need a hospital.”

Eddie tries to stand up, but his legs feel a little weak, and he winds up just clinging to Buck beside him. “You need to let us take you. You’re hurt.”

“I- I don’t-”

“What would you say if it was Buck?” Bobby chimes in. “If Buck came into work bleeding from a head injury, didn’t remember how it happened, and could barely walk on his own, you would want him to go to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah, no question.”

Buck cups his cheek and gives him a small smile. “So let us take care of you, okay?”

He means to protest, but the next thing he knows, he’s sitting on the gurney in the back of the ambulance. Buck’s right beside him, holding a fresh square of gauze up against his head. In his free hand, he’s got a phone up against his ear. 

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Diaz. We’re taking him to the hospital now, I’ll keep you updated. Tell Christopher I said hi. - Yeah. Of course. - Okay, thank you, bye.”

Buck pockets his phone again and offers Eddie one of his bright smiles.

“I was just calling your grandmother to tell her what’s going on. She’ll look after Christopher if you need to stay at the hospital for a bit, don’t worry.”

Before Eddie can respond, he feels the ambulance braking. Chimney’s a smooth driver, but it’s always rough to get a machine this heavy to slow down properly from the high speeds it requires. They’re at the hospital now. Hen opens the door, and Buck helps her lower the gurney onto the sidewalk outside like Eddie’s just some patient.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” he tells Buck. “I don’t feel hurt.”

“Don’t worry, baby, the doctors will take care of it. And I’ll be here the whole time.”

[rigginsstreet]

Please tell us about fp sobbing in the river while all the other riverparents hold onto him...

why do yall want me to suffer...

i dont even know if i wouldve gone straight for a direct parallel like that, i was more just thinking about the general concept of it. but i mean, dont get me wrong i definitely did think about everyone in an actual river/lake/whatever recreating that exact scene i just dont know if thats the route i wouldve taken had i actually written it

but anyway i had this one idea about the midnight club all breaking in to the school the night after freds funeral (but like mary and gladys and probably hal wouldve been there too because fuck canon. and hiram and hermione wouldve also been there and not in jail. and penelope would not have been on the run... god i had shit thought out about fp and penelope having a conversation too.... listen i had a lot of thoughts about a lot of things but thats not what this message is)

BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND

so anyway everyone wouldve been together in the school and its all solemn obviously because fred has left such a huge hole in the group, but then gladys or somebody pipes up and starts sharing this really funny story about fred from back in the day and it gets everybody kinda smiling, half laughing, loosening up. fps like off by himself in a corner just keeping quiet the whole time, but as more stories get told, some of which he was involved in, his mouth starts turning up and its the faintest hint of a smile but its something. and by the time everyones gone around swapping stories the mood in the room is a lot lighter than when it started, but fp still hasnt said anything and it hasnt gone unnoticed

so everyone kind of turns to him and mary asks if hes got any stories he wants to share (and of course he does, hes got a million stories and they all know it) 

hes silent for a little bit before he clears his throat and starts talking about this one time they were at pops real late, fp had just gotten into it with his dad so he didnt want to go home and fred had just sat with him in the booth to keep him company, was trying to cheer him up. so fred had been putting on these stupid voices and doing really bad impressions trying to get fp to laugh and it was working a little bit but not as much as fred liked, so fred had started picking at his fries and flicking them at fp and of course fps first reaction was confusion and a tinge of annoyance but fred had this smirk on his face that always meant trouble and it didnt take long for fp to catch on and soon enough they had a full blown food fight in the middle of pops at 11:30 at night. fortunately they were the only two patrons around but by the time pop got them to stop they were covered in ketchup and mustard and milkshake and pickles and pop was yelling his head off at the two of them that they had to clean up the mess themselves which was admittedly a pain in the ass but by that point they couldnt stop laughing and fp had all but forgotten about his dad and even while they were mopping up the floor and wiping down the table they had these big smiles on their faces

and fps smiling as he tells the story but hes got tears in his eyes that he keeps wiping away. and everyone around him is smiling and chuckling along too (alice had chimed in with some commentary about how immature they were but it didnt really hold any bite)

and as the story winds down fps just kinda sitting there thinking about freds smile that night and he can still hear freds laughter ringing in his ears and suddenly its hitting him that hes never gonna hear that again. its hitting that fred always knew how to cheer him up and hes never gonna have that again either and soon enough theres this sob racking through him and even though it wasnt ever really talked about, everybody knows that fred and fp werent just friends. that there was always something deeper. and its abundantly clear now with the way fp cannot keep himself together. gladys and mary are the first ones that go over to him, wrapping him up tight in their arms, gladys holding him to her chest. alice goes over next and holds the hand that fp isnt using to cover his face. everyone kinda follows suit after that and its not long before fps in the middle of this giant group hug which usually would make him feel wildly uncomfortable but he cant really focus on anything else right now besides the memory of fred. hes hardly even aware whats happening around him but eventually he looks up and realizes whats going on around him its a lot to take in. because at the end of the day none of them are friends, not as a whole anyway. and he knows the only reason theyre all even together right now is because freds gone. and its not like he even wants them all to be friends anyway. hes perfectly fine with how things stand between them all but... its nice that they can all come together even if just for a little bit for this.

but once he finally somewhat pulls himself together he says “well this is embarrassing” and everyone laughs and starts to disperse, gladys kisses his temple and she and mary are the only ones that stay close to him.

i also like the idea of alice going over to the window and carving the + between fred and fps initials because in my mind the reason she carved them next to each other in the first place was because she was one of the few people actually in the know about their relationship in high school and she was being a good friend and did that for the gays because she knew fp wouldve carved their initials all over the damn town if he could but this was a stealth way to give him what he wanted. a good friend, really. we love friends. :) so anyway now shes just completing the though but please BELIEVE if there is a lovers bridge or some shit in riverdale fp took his ass down there the next day and finally carved his and freds initials himself! ive cried 15 times writing this 

anyway you could also just take all this and apply it to everyone going down to the swimming hole that julia and i have discussed MANY a times and everyone just kinda having a day celebrating fred cuz he used to love going down there in the summer and fp ends up sobbing in the water cuz he keeps thinking about all the secret trips he and fred used to take up there themselves... im depressed

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] TsukiPro Special CD - Starry Sky Collection Track 2

Yay~! This time, it’s VAZZROCK!! Next one is Mamoru and Koki’s and then the rest of the Yaminabe series dramas ww

Thank you once again to Deea for the files~! Please don’t ask her as per her request, thank you!

Also, Sho briefly mentions the story behind Lyra the constellation so, please do give it a read to understand it completely ^^

※ Please don’t re-post these translations without permission. Instead of reposting, please just like/reblog instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

Track 02: [心揺さぶる音楽を -こと座 ベガ-] “Music that Shakes the Heart – from the Constellation of Lyra – Vega”

Mamiya Takaaki, Kira Ouka, Onoda Sho, and Nadumi Ruka

[0:00]

  MAMIYA: Everyone, thank you very much. We’ll leave the rest to you.

SHO: We’ll leave it in your care.

SHO: We’ll be taking our leave now.

OUKA: Thank you very much for today.

RUKA: Thank you~!

  SHO: Now then, thank you for the hard work once again.

MAMIYA: Good work.

OUKA: Great job.

RUKA: Yay~! We all did well!

SHO: With this, VazzRaji’s first season recording is now finished.

SHO: Our party with the staff is over as well and now all we need to do is return to the dorms.

SHO: I heard that if we go straight home from here, it’s not that far but…

SHO: Takaaki, do you want to call a taxi?

MAMIYA: Ah, that’s right. Let’s call for one by the main street.

MAMIYA: But, uh… Can I ride a different one (from yours)?

OUKA: A different one? Where do you plan on going?

MAMIYA: Don’t look at me with such cold eyes~ I just feel like going for a little walk.

MAMIYA: If I walk from here to the dorm…

RUKA: If we’ll trust the map application, it’d take about 10 minutes!

MAMIYA: See? That’s what he said. It’s not really that far.

MAMIYA: I was just thinking of walking around to feel a bit refreshed.

MAMIYA: That much is fine, isn’t it?

RUKA: Ah! Then, I’ll do the same~! I don’t really like the smell of taxis and I try avoiding them as much as possible.

RUKA: Also, I ate a looooott of meat and rice so I wanna exercise a bit!

RUKA: And so~ Takaaki-kun, can I go with you~?

MAMIYA: Of course, you’re welcome to~! Let’s take it easy together, ‘kay?

RUKA: Alrighty~!

OUKA: (sighs) Ruka, if you walk back to the dorms from here, won’t it override your calorie intake?

RUKA: Non, non, non, Ouka-kun~ Doing things when you feel like doing them is important, too!

RUKA: In other words, there’d be no feelings of guilt lingering!

OUKA: Is it like that?

RUKA: Yes, it is! It’s kinda the same as when women go shopping.

RUKA: “Oh, I might find some use for this,” they say and then they end up buying more than intended~

RUKA: In my case, I say “I’ll lose it all in practice tomorrow” and then I eat as much as I can!

RUKA: If you say that, you won’t feel as guilty! Doing the things you love sometimes is important, too~

RUKA: It’s essential, right~?

OUKA: I see… That’s deep.

MAMIYA: By the way, I only want to walk, okay?

SHO: Yes~ I don’t really have any feelings of guilt but, can I join you for your night walk?

MAMIYA: Oh~ Sho, you wanna walk, too?

SHO: Yes, I’m the same as you, Takaaki.

SHO: Heading straight back to the dorms feels like a waste and somehow, I’m in the mood to walk, too.

SHO: I had so much fun a while ago that I feel like wanting to enjoy your company for a while longer.

MAMIYA: In Sho’s case, isn’t it just because you had too much to drink?

MAMIYA: You’re looking quite pale, y’know~? See? (Mamiya touches Sho’s hand) Your hand’s a bit warm, too.

SHO: (chuckles) Is that so? Well, maybe it is, since Takaaki’s hand feels cool and nice.

RUKA: Were you bad at handling your alcohol, Sho-kun?

RUKA: Like, your head feels floaty whenever you drink?

SHO: Hmm… I don’t think I’m particularly bad or good.

SHO: Though, it’s true that my head feels kind of floaty but, it doesn’t really go beyond that.

RUKA: Heh~ I’ll remember that~

SHO: Hm? Why would you want to remember that?

RUKA: When I know what my friends’ limits are, I can help them when they’re troubled about what to drink next or when they’re about to pass out, right~?

RUKA: I can handle my alcohol well so don’t hesitate to rely on me, ‘kay~

SHO: Thank you. Ruka’s very kind and reliable, huh?

MAMIYA: ROCK DOWN’s bonds are so dazzling~

MAMIYA: Alright! Then, Ouka will go home first in a taxi and then—

OUKA: Wait. Do you really think I’m that much of a loner to go home by taxi when you’re all walking?

MAMIYA: Yeah.

OUKA: (Ouka grabs Mamiya by the necktie) You should at least lie in a situation like this.

MAMIYA: (with a pained voice) O-O-Ouka-kun… Ouka-kun? Don’t pull my necktie…! My neck’s gonna fall off…!

MAMIYA: My neck’s gonna snap…!

RUKA: (smiles) VAZZY’s bonds are so tight, huh~!?

SHO: Ouka, calm down~

OUKA: Tch.

RUKA: So, that means~ Ouka-kun’s gonna walk with us?

OUKA: I am. Now that that’s decided, let’s get going.

OUKA: Let’s go. Hurry up and go.

RUKA: Yes sir~

MAMIYA: Y-yes…

[05:00]

  RUKA: (singing) ♪ Let’s go on a walk, let’s go on a walk~! ��

RUKA: (singing) ♪ I am the great Ruka-kun~! ♪

SHO: (chuckles) Ruka’s in a good mood, huh?

OUKA: I’d understand if that was his energy after drinking but, I’m surprised that he’s naturally like that.

OUKA: In a way, he’s pretty energetic.

MAMIYA: That’s to be expected. Ruka’s a stage actor after all.

MAMIYA: I think he’s got more energy than a certain someone here~ He’s got pretty great stamina.

OUKA: I see.

SHO: I’m so sorry, Ouka. We ended up going home by walking.

OUKA: Ah, no. If I’m being honest, I was the same as everyone else. I felt like going for a walk.

OUKA: That’s why you don’t have to mind it.

MAMIYA: Oh my~! You’re quite honest with Sho, aren’t you, Ouka?

OUKA: If someone tells me something directly, I answer as honestly as I can.

OUKA: That’s all there is to it.

MAMIYA: In other words, you’re rebellious when it comes to me?

RUKA: (smiles) Walking like this together with everyone feels kinda nice, huh~?

RUKA: The food and alcohol during the staff party was great, too! I’m extremely satisfied~

RUKA: I’m super happy!

OUKA: Ruka, your voice is too loud.

RUKA: (laughs) I’m sorry, Ouka-kun.

RUKA: I’m feeling good and the wind feels so nice~ I just got taken in by the atmosphere. (to Sho) Right~?

SHO: Hm? Yes~ (to Mamiya) Right?

MAMIYA: (to Ouka) Right~?

OUKA: Ruka and Sho aside, when Takaaki does it, it’s disgusting.

MAMIYA: So mean!

RUKA: Alright~! Sho-kun and I passed!

MAMIYA: Discrimination is not good, Ouka.

OUKA: Don’t hold on to me, you drunk.

MAMIYA: I didn’t drink any though~

MAMIYA: I only drank like, one beer and about two or three ciders.

RUKA: Me, too! Normally, I’d drink so much more but, I have to wake up early tomorrow.

RUKA: Hm… But, Takaaki-kun, Ouka-kun, Sho-kun, and I are kinda a rare combi so—

RUKA: Going home so early just kinda feels like a waste…

SHO: Even though you say that Ruka, Gaku asked me to take you home safely.

RUKA: Ack! That bastard…!

MAMIYA: As expected from his partner! He can read you like a book~

OUKA: You laugh at him and all that but, you need to wake up early for filming tomorrow, too.

OUKA: Walk properly, get home, and then go to sleep.

OUKA: Don’t tell me, “let me watch one video before going to sleep,” got it?

MAMIYA: (groans)

SHO: (laughs) Looks like he can read you well, too~

SHO: Although Takaaki takes his work seriously, there are times when he indulges himself, huh?

SHO: Just like me~

RUKA: I-I don’t think that’s something you should be smiling about, Sho-kun… (laughs nervously)

OUKA: Good grief… So, our leaders have the same weird tendencies.

SHO: Please don’t abandon me.

[08:19]

  SHO: (gasps)

RUKA: Hm, what’s wrong, Sho-kun?

SHO: Look, Ruka. Since there are no buildings around, you can see the stars properly.

RUKA: Ah! It’s true!

RUKA: Woah~! Since when did I last see the stars like this~?

OUKA: We might have seen them but didn’t really notice them much.

MAMIYA: So, they can be seen properly even in the city, huh~!

OUKA: The stars I saw from my relative’s house when I was younger were even more amazing.

MAMIYA: Heh~ In the countryside?

OUKA: In Okayama Prefecture’s prefectural border.

OUKA: I was in elementary school back then probably. I went there about 2 or 3 times during summer vacation.

OUKA: In any case, the stars were so beautiful that I’d lay down and look up at them until my mother came to scold me.

OUKA: It’s such a vivid memory that when I close my eyes sometimes, I feel like I can still see them.

OUKA: The scent of incense, the squeaking of the wooden floorboards, the sound of the wind chimes, and the starry sky spreading from the night sky.

RUKA: When I imagine Ouka-kun with stars, it makes for such a perfect picture that I get scared~

RUKA: Ouka-kun, you really love stars, huh?

OUKA: I guess. I love them.

OUKA: Not just the stars but the universe in general. When it’s shown on T.V. I end up watching it completely.

MAMIYA: This is my first time hearing that~

OUKA: Have I not told you…?

OUKA: Don’t you generally prefer conversations where you can talk of anything compared to half-hearted ones that don’t fit your interests?

OUKA: It feels good to be able to talk about what you love, doesn’t it?

MAMIYA: I see~ That’s such a great reason that’s so fitting of you, Ouka.

RUKA: I love stars too but, not on a realistic scale, I guess.

RUKA: I love things with star designs! They can be cute or cool~!

RUKA: Oh, and they’re good luck~!

MAMIYA: Oh! Now that you mention it, I feel like a lot of your t-shirts and bags have star designs on them!

MAMIYA: Don’t you have shoes like that, too? Ya know, the ones designed with stars for buckles and stuff?

RUKA: As expected from Takaaki-kun! You’ve observed well, huh~? Those are my favorite~

RUKA: It’s the one I decorated with the make-up artist backstage! It’s the only one of its kind in the world~

RUKA: I wear them to feel in the mood before a play!

SHO: You really take acting seriously, huh~ Leaving it to luck is not manly, was it?

SHO: Though, you give me the impression that you would leave it to your own abilities.

RUKA: (laughs) That’s correct! That’s exactly it!

RUKA: Whether it’s luck or abilities, the one that wins in the end is the me who practiced a lot.

RUKA: The only superstition I believe are good luck charms, I guess.

RUKA: I usually feel like giving it my all when I’m acting since I can~

RUKA: Though, there are a lot of people on stage who believe in superstitions.

SHO: True. I think I have the same way of thinking. The world is not so simple that we can win on luck alone.

SHO: But, we can’t completely undermine luck and being lucky. That’s about it, I guess~

RUKA: Yep~! Samesies~

[11:43]

  SHO: (chuckles) Hey, does everyone know the legend of Vega from the Lyra constellation? It’s one of the brightest stars in the Summer Triangle.

MAMIYA: That’s pretty sudden~ The Summer Triangle constellation is uh… Altair, Vega, and… Ah, Deneb! It’s that one, right?

MAMIYA: The only thing I know about it are the stars’ names.

OUKA: I’m the same.

RUKA: Wow, you’re amazing! I didn’t even know the stars’ names!

RUKA: I only know the words “Summer Triangle”.

SHO: (chuckles) That’s exactly it.

SHO: Lyra is the constellation that’s shaped like a musical instrument. It’s the lyre that appears in Greek mythology.

SHO: The story goes is that it’s Orpheus’s lyre up in the sky.

SHO: The legend says that Orpheus went to the Underworld to reclaim his departed wife.

SHO: He offered his music to the King of the Underworld and managed to charm him.

SHO: Though, it seems like he failed with his initial plans of bringing his beloved back.

SHO: I’ve been told this story when I was young and I remember admiring the music that was supposed to have swayed even the King of the Underworld’s heart.

SHO: I just remembered that suddenly.

RUKA: I feel like Sho-kun’s violin can shake the heart of the King of the Underworld, too~

SHO: No, no. I still have ways to go.

SHO: I think that the violin is something that I still have to learn for quite a long time.

SHO: It’s never-ending and it makes me feel a bit scared but, it has its own charm, too.

OUKA: It might be quite similar to the reason why I admire the universe.

OUKA: Something that we want to chase for an eternity.

RUKA: Ah, that kind of phrasing is perfect for my ideal stars!

RUKA: Something that we admire for eternity is something that we’d yearn for for a long time!

RUKA: Isn’t that cool~?

MAMIYA: I feel you. Though, it’d be a plus if I can make mine shorter.

MAMIYA: See? Just like those stars spreading above our heads right now.

MAMIYA: I can see them all the time and I feel like I can reach my hand out to them. They’re always watching over us.

MAMIYA: I was just thinking that it’d be nice if the fans thought of us like that, too.

OUKA: “Watching over” is so like you.

MAMIYA: Right?

SHO: Right now, we are the ones being watched over by the stars, huh?

SHO: Let’s continue to do our best so that we can become those kinds of admirable people~

RUKA: Yeah!

RUKA: (singing) ♪ Let’s go home, let’s go home~! I am the great Ruka-kun~! ♪

OUKA: Like I said, your voice is too loud.

MAMIYA: Alright, let’s sing together in a moderate tone then~

MAMIYA: Alright, Ouka, you too~!

OUKA: I won’t sing.

  SHO: (chuckles) We’ll continue to make music that will shake your heart one day.

SHO: Beautiful and dazzling music just like the stars that’s dedicated for you.

  ==END==

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

If you like this, please consider buying me a ko-fi here to support my work. (o^▽^o)Thank you!!

[libidomechanica]

Swept by each side o the langest day

Swept by each side o the langest day— when holly  eue, our beams deceived at: the vi’lets seeketh  heau’n of my woe cannot signal-elm, that apple-

tree Him who might doth grown, there, hey ho gray halls along. with  heau’nly grac’d and fold like occasional attended.  Yet each sweet with bars the sake one be 

piece together odd is) such discover in these gentle  Eulalie’s my meaning the fruits; camphire in  the man with flowers and day, the 

fallow hair, or tiptoe, fain would stop this (but wear the  screen. My riches of silk was, and  the blue eye hath travel her girlond all thou wanted 

too much oats had fall from work the  river of dark. Only, mething for days, when  in the city from the Tree! This 

winding and coral was holding home, gleaning  lies. All the modern wretched error crept upon the  earth now signal: O, she’s to myself another Philip, 

I have from those globy rings I know whether  is so raft vs of old! ‘And I listen  theyr good black, an’ it will die than heap of 

what she chambers: we will safe and do accept  the world’s tears by wretches unto The Sinking  Fund’s unfathomable spirit? Off—or upon 

think that in a pleasant leper in me written,  and the wind went down the strong sweet among  theyr folds his night, uninvited in clay, one in 

the words of silver, the gay bon-mot, or  to think on. He woke betide ye, ill women do  missed. A wild Boreas harsh, hearing of poetry ends like 

as, to hate, it like thoughts which carries  thy siuer rayes the treasures grows. Wherefore ask no incongruities:  be her love, and devour’d on thereof did 

ensued he was nothing into  relation; they han into my toes wind  to hearer’s grapes, his neck, or give in Fishes 

him remain on me for each night  Never Last lie down by her blisse bright, untamed,         a  blue eye hath a most music chimes it be so.

[tamiddyinyourcity]

My boyfriend didnt text me after work and i assumed i was getting plowed..........i kinda wanna cry?

Still a great day. He got me earrings, he looked damned sexy today with those FINE ASS EYES AND SMILE of his, and we had a nice time at the movies today.

So i guess admittedly im only disappointed since once i got home after our sweet "hes holding me, im crying over past traumatic family incidents, and he hugs and cools me down until i finally smile again", i was like "that was really nice.... i really like this guy. and surprisingly im not irritable about parting ways or anything."

Until i guess he mentioned overtime and wanting to see me tmrw, i was like "awww dont worry you can see me tonight or maybe early tomorrow morning! text me after work!"

....and that was at 8:12pm.

....its now 1:15am.

And i feel like i have blue balls, since i really was ready to put it tf on him tonight.

My pussy went from "time to clean and wind down comfortably for the rest of the day, knowing my boyfriend cares about me, and that hes now safe at work and busy but we can talk some other day...."

To "OH WAIT HE WANTS TO SEE ME AGAIN SO SOON???? IM ABOUT TO FUCK, I AM READY TO FUCK HIM, YES PLEASE, I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO FOR LIKE A WEEK".

to "oh....... he hasnt responded and its past midnight...... he.... probably doesnt like me.... after all????????"

But to stop myself from re-awakening the insecurities about how I'm perceived by a significant other, I decided to put on the nice dangly pair of earrings he gave me today.

Theyre nice. I havent worn dangly earrings in forever. He seemed openly nervous since I always wear stud earrings, but I thought, "Nah bro, the fact that you even got me anything at all is whats making me smile rn."

Plus, cool iridescent abalone shell earrings.

I'm not sure when I'll wear these, but tonight seems like a pretty good start. I feel likke a nice pretty little chandelier, or a wind chime I guess.

If anything, its just a nice feeling of knowing that he does like me.

I got a little nervous.

It was kinda empty during Thanksgiving, but his arrival was already nice of "hey sorry i was depressed as fuck and took 40 minutes or more to leave the house, since i also still wanted to be cute and not bare minimum when you first see me again!!!"

Then "oh damn he looks good, i missed his face and personality", to ....

Oh holy shit, he got me something?

People think about me when im not around?

Oh dear.

And long story short.

I was blushing like fucking hell even when holding the box itself. My cheeks felt hot, and seeing these cute iridescent spiraks made me feel so damn appreciated.

Thanks Patrick.

God bless, peace out yalls, and if youre reading this, talk to joe for me

[defendersofspaceandtime]

I say there is too much Keith angst he should be happy for once, please pretty could I have a request where the reader has no mouth to brain filter when theyre dead tired, and they had been up all night studying the castle/star charting/training/what have you and they accidentally let it slip like "hey yknow you're a great guy... I love you, you're fantastic," and he's like "wait what did you say?" "That you know you're not terrible."

This is such a cute one~

I hope you enjoy!

——————————————

“Do you think,” you began, your hands dragging the skin around your eyes, not even noticing the sting it brought, “if I just…stare at this long enough…it would be finished?” 

  Keith’s eyebrows furrowed, a yawn passed from his lips, “How long have you been working on that?”

  You pause to think, attempting to stave off the wonderful call of sleep that edges at your mind, 

“I…I think…all day?”

   Keith whistled, his eyebrows shooting upwards, “All day? Seriously? Don’t you think you should be getting some rest now, or-” 

“Oh, no!” You protested, attempting to wipe the tiredness from your eyes, “I was only…I was just taking a break now. I gotta get these in for you guys by tomorrow or Allura will have my head,” 

   That made him laugh, and your heart bloomed at the sound. Like soft wind chimes in a light, spring breeze. You smiled warmly as he continued to chuckle, 

“Come on now, you know she wouldn’t be like that to ya,” 

“Yes!” You say with a fatigued smirk, your eyes sparkling as you looked at him, “She would! She’s been asking for these for a few weeks now…I’ve been putting them off to…you know, train with you, and everything…” 

   Keith tilted his head, his eyes full of curiosity, “You’ve been doing a lot around here, ya know,” 

“Really?” You say excitedly, and in an instant, it felt like almost all of your sluggishness had disappeared, “I’ve been trying to be more helpful! I want to be helpful…”

   Keith had to bite back a smirk as he watched you yawn again, your head slowly sagging down onto the table, 

“Whaddya mean, Y/n? You’re worth a lot to us here,” 

    You felt your heart skip a beat, but your brain was too far gone to stop your mouth from saying things, 

“Do I…” Your voice grew quiet, tender, eyes closing as your spoke, “do I mean anything to you?”

    The instant you said that Keith felt as if he’d choked. To…to him? 

    You continued on, your arm no longer supporting your head, and instead, it lay to rest on the table in front of you, 

“I mean I…I know this is probably a uh…hah…a weird time to say it, but you’re…you’re really cool, you know? You’re strong and smart and..and…you’re so kind to everyone and that smile of yours just melts me and I feel so…safe with you. I just…I…”

     It had felt pretty underwhelming to Keith’s ears as if he’d been expecting something a little more…electric to burst from your lips- but he thought his disappointment to be his fault. He was expecting something out of his desires and ignored the fact that you were merely having a conversation with him. 

      Nothing more.

   That idea hurt him. The idea that you may not feel for him as he does for you. 

    All but forgetting the fact that precious documents and files sat in front of you, waiting to be filled out and translated, you soon closed your eyes fully, finding the draw to resting to be too much to handle- but not before you spoke your mind, your thoughts filled with Keith as you whispered, 

“…I love you, Keith.” 

     It took him a moment to realize what you had said, but by the time he had gasped, you were already fast asleep, your head on the table, your body in the seat. 

     And for a few moments, Keith felt stuck in limbo, your words in his ears, echoing and crashing through his head, his stomach in knots, his heart to the beat of a marching drum, 

“I love you, too!” He said back, his words in the form of a shout, so loud that they too, echoed throughout the castle, only to be bounced back to him. 

    You couldn’t hear him. 

    But Keith found himself laughing, smiling, grinning like an absolute madman as he fell back onto the couches, his body the lightest it's ever felt in...forever. 

“I love you, too, Y/n.”

[valleyofthefae]

CREEPY GIRL ASK MEME LET'S GO MAC YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO 💞💗💗💝💝💓🌸👀👀

HECK YEAH I DO & THANK YOUUUU !!!! 💗💗💗💕💕💓💘🌸doll: some of your favorite makeup productsWelll, im not big on wearing make-up but i really like hard candy & i like wet-n-wild :) bruise: the worst wound you've ever receivedHmm, there was one time when i fell off of my bike, and my man, i scraped my knee p dang badly taxidermy: your favorite animal(s)Foxes, owls, bats, dogs, cats, lizards, snakes, birds, many many othersss !!!!eyeball: some of your favorite filmsBeetlejuice, A Cure For Wellness, Kill Your Darlings, The Secret of Kells, Hocus Pocus, Sucker Punch, Coraline, Crimson Peak, Maleficent, & many others 😊syringe: someone you trust with everythinghmmm, idk ? 🤔maybe you honestly, like if i was willing to just spill everything abt myself 🤔🤔idk,, or maybe kt.. maybeporcelain: your favorite article of clothingHoodies tbh, or sweaters ? plush: your favorite childhood toyHmmm, I have this little dog stuffed animal & i love it so much oml, it's also vv small it's cuteee :) blood: some of your favorite foodsHm, oatmeal, apples, white nectarines, bananas, & pastaapentagram: your faith or spiritualityI'm a wiccan, but so far,, that's all for the time being splatter: your favorite artists or art pieceshm, idk if i have any favorites? I have some i really really like, but i cant think of them right now :) teacup: some of your favorite beveragesGreen tea tbh (the lemon onee!!), and that's abt it corpse: something you would love to do but can'tI'd love to be a dancer, but i couldnt dance if my life depended on it, tbh i'd also love to be a vegetarian/vegan but my parents arent gonna let that happen for the time being knife: something you're good at cooking or bakingOatmeal 👌🏼👌🏼i cant cook :/lollipop: some of your favorite candyI used to rlly like lemonheads !! & sweettarts (is that what theyre called ??) monster: your worst habitsI bit the inside of my cheeks a lot & my lips :/ pills: something you'd change about yourselfeverything potion: something you'd change about humanityeverything tbhasylum: your favorite place in the worldhmm, idk ? mantis: your sexual orientationur guess is as good as mine (idk currently) stitches: some of your self-care habits....hmmmmmm idkvelvet: your favorite era for fashion and aestheticsOoo, the 19th century, & 20's-50's tbh 👌🏼👌🏼teeth: something that makes you laughHonestly, really weird things tbh, and funny vids/movies, & my buddiessss piano: something that makes you crymy mom, and thinking about my grandpa, uncle, and my dad's cousin (who have all passed away) witch: a power you wish you hadI wish i could make everyone, or just those im close with, happy and realize how beautiful & amazing & intelligent & talented they are chainsaw: your favorite soundI loveeeee the sound of wind chimes !!! & music boxes :) ribbon: your favorite color combinationsSilver & light purple, pink & gold, pastel colors and slightly darker versions of those colors (like how my blog is rn) pigtails: how affectionate you areummmm,,, not very :// ghost: a historical figure you're drawn toHm, a lot of them tbh, recently tho it was lizzie borden & that whole case it's just very very interesting lullaby: songs you love to singnew rules by dua lipa, cali god by grace mitchell, florida kilos by lana, any song by lana tbh, & etc !!

[secretlymadeoutofcups]

I was tageed to do this shit again smh but theyre fun sooooo ion care

i was tagged by @musicstar-chenle​ 

rules: you must complete the survey and say who tagged you in the beginning. when you are finished you have to tag people to do this survey. have fun and enjoy!!

1: ARE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE : nah not that i know of but if it was anyone it was probably Morgan Freeman. 2. WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED : i cant remember but it was recently 3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING : it like changes every five seconds so like ??? 4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH TO EAT : chocolate ice cream from the caf @ my school cause it tastes like butter 5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS : i should hope my 13 year old ass doesnt lmao 6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU : idk aye like im annoying af but like im nice(??) sooooo 7. DO YOU USE SARCASM : yeet 8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS : nah  9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP : id jump off a cliff into a pit of sharks if given the chance 10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF CEREAL : Cocoa pops ngl 11: DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF : yeah ofc if u dont get out of my life 12: DO YOU THINK YOU’RE A STRONG PERSON : my leggos are fitt af 13: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR : MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP 14: WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE :height or how their hair is styled orrrrrrrrrrr what theyre shoes are 15: RED OR PINK : both, fuck me up w that shit 16: WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE PHYSICAL THING YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF : my booty looks flat in my mom jeans lmaooo 17: WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING NOW :black shorts like the ones rv are wearing in russian roulette and no shoes lol 18: WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE : ice cream ^^ 19: WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW : Young and beautiful by Lana Del Rey 20: IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE: yellowwww 21: FAVORITE SMELL: this is finna sound weird af but like old lady perfume thats all flowery and shit like that stuffs dope af 22: WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SPOKE TO ON THE PHONE : i think it was my mum lol 23: FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH : rugby cause im a patriotic new zealander lmaooo  24: HAIR COLOR : my friends think its the colour of soy noodles lmaooo 25: EYE COLOR : honestly?? poo brown 26: DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS : nah 27: FAVORITE FOOD TO EAT : cheese ngl 28: SCARY MOVIES OR COMEDY : both like comedy is lit but i can only watch scary shit if their like indie horror lamoo 29: LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED : i think it was the riot club 30: WHAT COLOR OF SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING : a black ‘welcome to the black parade’ shirt lol  31: SUMMER OR WINTER : both cause im white so i get gross in the sun but also summer cause im samoan and im used to it lmaooo 32: HUGS OR KISSES : boTH I LOVE BEING TREATED W THE AFFECTION I DESERVE 33: WHAT BOOK ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING :nothing atm 34: WHO DO YOU MISS RIGHT NOW : Na Jaemin tbh 35: WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD : i have a laptop 36: WHAT IS THE LAST TV PROGRAM YOU WATCHED : bro town lmao dont judge its funny af lololololololol 37: WHAT IS THE BEST SOUND : the lil tinkly noises wind chimes make lmaoo 38: ROLLING STONES OR THE BEATLES : both i guess 39: WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE EVER TRAVELED? i’ve been from like nz to Samoa and also t the GC 40: DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT : nah 41: WHERE WERE YOU BORN : P naughty (I hate that fuckin name) , NZ 42: PEOPLE YOU EXPECT TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS: okay here we go kiddos @baratkat @fake-nctexts and uh i have no mutals who (i think) done this yet lol so anyone who sees this i guess

[dinobot]

sleep chimes offering

sleep: i answered this one but another thing i like at night is the smell of the air, especially in winter

chimes (what sounds are your favorite): clicks and grinding sounds, like turning one of those machines that flattens pennies to put pictures on them. the sound of reiterpallach transforming. the sound of rain and harsh wind. cat purrs. 

offering (how do you show others you are fond of them?): i like to buy people things, and just tell them i love them, i like to ask them about their days just cuz i wanna know how theyre doing, i dont think i do any of that enough though. maybe in 2017 i will get better at letting people know i appreciate them

[fmservers]

Nyca Partners’ Hans Morris hunts for great fintech investments amid volatility

Hans Morris is a name to know in fintech, and as finance and tech sectors prepare for tougher time next year, he has some incisive thoughts to share about the kinds of companies that will succeed (or not) in a financial downturn. The managing partner of investment firm Nyca Partners, Morris also serves as the chairman of the board of Lending Club and is a director of other start-ups including AvidXchange, Boomtown, Payoneer and SigFig. At Nyca, which is on its third fund, Morris spends much of his time meeting with entrepreneurs focused on payments, credit models, digital advice and financial infrastructure.

But unlike many successful fintech VCs, Morris doesn’t have to read about how Wall Street’s history influenced the trajectory of those sectors. He played an active role in shaping them. His experiences — heading Smith Barney’s FIG effort (at 29 years old), overseeing Citigroup’s institutional businesses, serving as president of Visa and advising companies at General Atlantic — have also provided him with an unparalleled financial services rolodex. And for those who believe that financial history rhymes, Morris’ opinions are now especially welcome. Fintech may be entering a new, post-financial crisis phase in which the low-hanging fruit has been picked and macro headwinds outweigh tailwinds. In the discussion below, Morris talks candidly about how he’s approaching investing next year and how he’s viewing fintech M&A possibilities. He was also eager to share his thoughts on ethics in financial services (a favorite topic), the prospects for challenger banks, why he’s branched out into real estate tech, the future of blockchain and some of his favorite bank CEOs.

Gregg Schoenberg: Hans, it’s always good to see you, but I’m especially glad to be sitting down with you now, given that the financial world is convulsing at the moment. Before we get into that, though, I want to kick off with something else: Do you buy into the idea of techfin vs. fintech?

Hans Morris: I don’t. My basic organizing principle, which you and I have discussed before, is around declining information costs. As these costs decline, it disrupts the traditional profit pools in financial services. It’s always been like that. What I would say is that in recent times, some tech companies have done a very good job at building a trusted relationship with consumers, and in some cases with businesses. That trusted relationship obviously provides a significant competitive advantage of information. But that advantage lessens later on. There are so many examples we could point to of companies that were ‘it.’ Then, suddenly, they say, ‘Oh no, our tech is expensive, creates a bad experience and will cost a lot to fix.’

GS: Let’s talk about the present. As you know, the Fed has been tightening, equities are hemorrhaging, the yield curve is getting spooky and talk of a recession is intensifying. To me, Lending Club, right or wrong, was one of the original poster children of the post-crisis fintech boom. But now, I think we’re in a regime change and that the next crop of successful financial innovators will look a lot different. What’s in store for an area like credit delivery?

HM: In credit delivery, I think it’s now pretty well-realized by investors, and certainly realized by capital markets investors, that credit delivery requires capital. So today, I feel that anyone who’s going to be successful in credit intermediation needs to have a very good understanding of balance sheet risk, liquidity risk, and capital requirements. I pay a lot of attention to capital requirements, and the ability to fund something in the teeth of a crisis.

GS: Let’s say we enter a recession next year and see continued volatility across the capital markets. I understand that each recession and bear market is different, but with the fresh capital you’ve closed on, where are you looking to go on offense?

HM: Among the thousands of fintech companies that have gotten some funding, there are companies that are really struggling to get their Series B or Series C done.

GS: Names that have lost their momentum?

HM: Yes. They’ve lost their momentum, and they’ve lost the perception of momentum among venture investors. But in some cases, these companies still possess some very good fundamentals, yet the valuations are a lot more attractive. If that dynamic becomes even more extreme, I think there could be some good opportunities.

GS: Isn’t it also true that the fintech names that suck up a lot of the venture money aren’t always the best underlying businesses?

So when you talk about high-valuation companies, I think it’s unrealistic for banks to be acquirers.

HM: It’s an interesting dynamic. Generally, as long as companies can continue to raise capital, they will keep going even if that isn’t necessarily a rational thing to do. But in some cases, where you see a bunch of companies pursuing a similar strategy, it would be better to pursue a merger because we don’t need tons of companies doing personal financial management, etc…

GS: Do you see the big banks with strong balance sheets, the JP Morgans of the world, getting the green light from regulators to be more aggressive in M&A?

HM: Regulators have clearly been one reason there hasn’t been more activity. The second thing is goodwill. Keep in mind that for a bank, goodwill is a 100% reduction to tangible Tier One capital. So even for JP Morgan to say, ‘We’ll take a billion dollars of our Tier One capital and invest it in a company with no income and maybe positive EBITDA, but maybe not—

GS: —That would take a ton of capital or a ton of conviction.

HM: Well, that company would have to be a very powerful growth engine or solution. So when you talk about high-valuation companies, I think it’s unrealistic for banks to be acquirers. Where banks can be acquirers, and this is what we’ve seen, is where you have a company valued at $60 million, maybe a $100 million, etc…

GS: A Clarity Money.

HM: Yes, a company where the acquisition moves a bank much further along in a development cycle. Where the the bank can say, “Instead of us taking two years to get our real product out, we can get out a state-of-the-art product right now, and it comes with a great team and DNA. That’s appealing.

GS: Appealing, but realistic?

HM: It’s hard to pull off. Often, the team leaves, everything dissipates, and the acquirer ends up writing off the whole thing.

GS: Moving forward, who do you think is poised to make M&A work?

HM: There’s a couple of examples where it’s worked. One is PayPal, which in recent times has done an excellent job of acquiring things and integrating talent into the company. I’m quite impressed in terms of how Bill Ready, who is now COO, Dan Shulman and the management team have changed the tech profile of PayPal.

GS: Well, they’re not a 200-year-old financial institution founded on a winding alley in downtown New York.

HM: Yes, but it was very old-school Silicon Valley, and they had a lot of technical debt. Of course, they had this great mafia 20 years ago, but all those people are gone. I don’t think there’s a single person in the top 100 at PayPal that was there 15 years ago.

GS: Let’s talk specific themes. You’ve already mentioned personal financial management, which I share your skepticism about. What’s your take on the prospects for challenger banks?

HM: I think we’re likely to have a war for deposits with too many different types of firms competing for deposits. Just look at the United States last year. All of the deposit growth we saw was explained by Bank of America, Wells Fargo, and JP Morgan Chase. Everyone else shrank. But if you have Monzo and Revolut come to the US and you look at Acorns, MoneyLion, Chime and fifteen other prepaid models or fully chartered bank models, they’re all going to have a pretty slick interface, and they’re all going to be out there competing for deposits.  

GS: How about the robos and free trading platforms?  As you know, a lot of the younger customers on these platforms haven’t experienced a sustained period of tumultuous equity market conditions.  

I pay a lot of attention to capital requirements, and the ability to fund something in the teeth of a crisis.

HM: I think a great majority of American households should be using a roboadvisor. However, the question is around the relationship between the customer acquisition and the revenue opportunity. In fact, a big part of our thesis with SigFig was to really help drive the pivot over to enterprise-based customers. But generally, and without knowing the details, my sense is that Betterment, Wealthfront and maybe Personal Capital have enough brand to get to the scale necessary to be self-sufficient. I think most of the others are not in that position.

GS: Turning to the mortgage and broader real estate sector, is your view that even if we have a deepening downdraft in housing, the real estate start-ups backed by you and others can do well anyway? Because they are essentially taking an industry stuck in the 1980s and ’90s and dragging it into the modern era.

HM: There’s a lot of room for tech improvement in real estate, and that includes residential real estate as well as institutional real estate. The problem with real estate, and mortgage-related models, is that the capital needs are also significant. So if you end up owning property, the bill adds up very quickly.

GS: I guess it depends on where a company buys them.

HM: True. Look, we remain bullish on them, but I share your concern that if activity stops or if you start having real decreases in property values in certain sectors, some of these companies may end up holding the bag.  

GS: When I saw the Ribbon deal, I was wondering how you and other backers looked at the opportunity at this point in the cycle.

HM: Well, for one thing, you can estimate the likelihood of someone getting a mortgage pretty efficiently. You can be right 99 percent of the time, but even if you’re only right 90 percent of the time, you’re going to be fine. That’s because the certainty that the company offers to the customer is worth it. They also have a great management team and a CEO who is really smart. They’re not naive.

GS: So given all the hype and ups and downs we’ve seen in blockchain, I’m wondering if you remain a long-term blockchain guy.

HM: Here’s the simple fact: The whole financial services industry is composed of ledgers. The reconciliation between entities of that information is a significant expense, particularly in the capital markets businesses. But I don’t buy into the view that it’s going to work better in all cases. The evidence so far is that it works well in some cases.

GS: Where can it work well?

HM: Distributed ledgers can work well when having synchronous data is an essential attribute, and when speed is not necessarily a central attribute.

GS: So, even if the implementation takes longer than the the hype machine suggested it would, financial institutions will get there?

Because money attracts crooks.

HM: They will get there. The cost of change is very, very high. The benefit of it is real. The question is, ‘How’s that cost of change compare to the ongoing benefit?’ In enterprise applications, the ones that will succeed are not ones where you say, ‘Lets rebuild everything within the core functions,’ because the cost and complexity are too great. The much better way is to start at the edge of an enterprise delivering immediate value, and then become an architecture for more things to move over to that.

GS: It’s easier said than done…

HM: If you take the capital markets area, I think it often requires an individual who has a bigger-than-life personality and the leadership skills to match it.

GS: Speaking of leadership, let’s talk about that within the context of fintech, where, as you know, we’ve seen mixed outcomes. You and I have talked a fair bit about how fintech isn’t like other tech sectors, because you’re dealing with money and livelihoods.

HM: Yes, and the activities are regulated, for a very good reason.

GS: When you look at a deal, does the character of the leader trump everything else?

HM: I’d say that the character and capabilities of a leader make a big difference. And to me, in financial services, the errors made, whether it’s 10 years ago or today, are similar. I mean, you have to tell the truth. You have to.

GS: Why is it so important to you?

HM: Because money attracts crooks.

GS: On that note, when I look at some of those who subscribe to the whole blitzscaling ethos, I see it as incompatible with our current climate and especially problematic to financial services. Blitzscaling doesn’t endorse breaking the law, of course, but this whole idea of consciously letting fires burn is a recipe for disaster in today’s financial services sector, right?

HM: Yes, I think so. I’d add that we have a rule in our firm: Don’t invest in any business model where you’re tricking the customer into a profitable relationship. But unfortunately, I feel that there are many business models that do just that.

GS: That’s a bold rule given that terms of services agreements remain dark dens of iniquity.

HM: Well, it’s more than just that. Look at Robinhood. I think it’s a remarkable company made up of unbelievable entrepreneurs. But I do feel that if you say, ‘Payment for order flow is the business model,’ or ‘Margin lending is the business model,’ you’ve got to spell that out. I mean, ‘payment for order flow?’ Most people would be like, ‘What does that mean?’

GS: You might as well be speaking in Ancient Greek.

A VC once said to me that we have too much knowledge about some things. I think there’s some truth to that.

HM: Exactly. I feel, in financial services, the best companies, the most successful long-run stories, will do the right thing for their customers, always. That also means not making a high-profile release of a new product, like a high-interest checking and savings account yielding way above anyone else, before you’ve actually checked with the regulators.

GS: On that latter reference, how accountable is Robinhood’s board for the company’s recent blunder?

HM: I honestly don’t know in what way the board was involved in this, but I think it’s a good example of where a board should put the brakes on an idea until the risks are clear. Sometimes management teams, and investors, don’t want to hear that, but it’s an essential role for financial services companies.

GS: In your career, you have seen your fair share of financial icons rise and fall. Have you ever passed on a deal that wound up being a huge success because something didn’t smell right?

HM: Yes, we have passed on things that turned out to be really good investments, but that’s part of our equation.

GS: In 1997, Howard Marks—

HM: —He’s fantastic, isn’t he?

GS: He’s phenomenal. In one of his famous memos, he asked ‘Are you an investor? Or are you a speculator?’ Given that there are quite a few VCs who have come to fintech in recent years, I’m wondering if you see a lot of speculators.

HM: Most of the folks that I interact with are investors, not speculators. The crypto stuff is pure speculation by almost everybody.

GS: Yes. I wasn’t implying that we discuss crypto.

HM: To the core of your question, I’ll tell you this: There’s this very, very successful VC investor I had a debate with over a deal. My point was that the company in question would need to raise a lot of capital to scale. But that long-term consideration wasn’t especially relevant to him, because he felt the company would have options down the road. We passed on the deal, but now, I look back and regret that decision.

GS: Are you suggesting that you could benefit from having a little more of a speculative instinct?

HM: A VC once said to me that we have too much knowledge about some things. I think there’s some truth to that.

GS: I’m sure that your institutional knowledge has been an important asset on many other occasions. I’ll move on to our last topic, Hans, because I know you have a fund to manage. You know all of the big bank CEOs, right?

HM: Yes.

GS: There’s Jamie Dimon, who defies easy description. At Goldman, you’ve got a banker as CEO. At Morgan Stanley, you’ve got an ex-management consultant. At Citibank, you’ve got—

HM: —You’ve got Corbat. Michael is just an excellent manager who gets things fixed. It’s interesting: Jamie is a fantastic manager of people too, but Jamie brings in his team. Corbat is very good at taking on an existing team and just making them better. Brian [Moynihan] is also really good. I mean he was a lawyer, and when he got the job, I had no idea what he was like. But I’ve noticed that the people who have worked for him are really loyal.

GS: I think the CEOs of the big banks tend to be a reflection of the times in which they operate, right? We went through the period of the trader CEO, which is now gone. As you look down the road, what are the heads of the big banks going to look like?

HM: I’ll answer that question by turning you to Microsoft. What explains the turnaround there? Is it because Satya [Nadella] is such an amazing engineer? No; he’s a great people person. He’s a fantastic manager who put in place a high-quality decision process, which is key to managing a complex organization.

GS: Implicit in my question is whether or not these organizations are going to be as big and complex as they are now. Specifically, I’m referring to the supermarket model that you were involved in helping to construct. Does that remain in place?

HM: Keep in mind that liquidity is a very, very important aspect of a financial marketplace, and having access to core liquidity that doesn’t change frequently is very important. The professional money obviously switches very quickly. But things like core deposits, pension flows and corporate cash tend to have the longest time-frames to build access to. But when a bank has access to deposits that don’t move much, it enables it to fund the liquid financial assets. That’s so important for when you hit a liquidity crisis.  

GS: So the big bank model is here to stay?

HM: Yes, I think it’s going to be around for a long time.

GS: Well on that note, Hans, I wish you luck in navigating whatever the future brings. Thanks for sitting down with me and sharing your wisdom.

HM: It’s always a pleasure speaking to you, Gregg. Thank you as well.

This interview has been edited for content, length and clarity.

Via Gregg Schoenberg https://techcrunch.com