So much fail.

[tuesdayficarchived]

So my lost purse with my debit card (now hot carded) and I think with A Movable Feast (thankfully already finished, though I'm one of the few in my class who likes it, damn it)? Also had my flash drive in it. And I hadn't sent important paper to my prof while all fucked up with sleep dep like I thought I had. And it was only on that lost flashdrive.

So! I'll be writing more than one paper while staying up tonight. What does this additional bit of stress mean? My loss is your gain.

Drabble trading. Yes, I know I had prompts open, but they're closed except to someone who'd asked about a fandom before I wrote this entry. This is more stress than usual, and I need something to keep me from hiding in the library basement's bathroom and never, ever, ever coming out again. There are sinks in that bathroom, and a surprisingly clean floor. I could make it until starvation set in, and so few people come along it would be years before they found my body.

You write me one drabble (and I'll be loose in the definition of this), and I'll write you two--basically, I write one, you write one, I give you another. Rinse and repeat for however long you like. I'm crossposting this with my fandom journal.

And . . . go!

ETA: Tomorrow, 4/24/2008, at 11:59:59 p.m., the drabble trade will officially be Over. By which I mean I will answer any submitted before that time with the two to one deal, but merely admire and feedback any submitted after. Because of this, you can submit as many as you want without waiting for me to catch up (and even make vague suggestions I might follow for my responses). So. Last chance. TWO TO ONE. GO!

(If I'm flooded, I'm going to try to have all my responses back by the end of finals, but I make no guarantees other than there will be responses to everything submitted before 12:00:00 4/25.)

Closed

Comments

last one (slightly burnt out, sorry--but this was fun, so thank you!)

[tuesdayfic.livejournal.com]

There was this once that Guy thought it would all work out for the best and that everyone would be happy in the end. It was when he had reached the status of genin and the sensei had placed the sign of his graduation on his forehead, adjusted the plate to best protect his brain, and Guy was young enough to feel stronger and safer and better for it (before he realized that it was only a symbol and the human body's weak points were too numerous to come close to complete, or even significant protection).

Despite his later epiphanies, the constant lessons life thrust upon him, he couldn't help but believe that something had to work out. Enough senbon will hit, enough strikes will break through and break down the strongest wall. It was why he could encourage Lee to be the best without any twinges of conscious, try to open Neji to the possibilities of flight and freedom in ways he didn't yet realize were open to him, told Tenten what he knew of the legendary Tsunade and spoke of his admiration for Kurenai and Anko. He hoped that each of his students would strike true.

And this endless, unexpected hope for the future was why he kept his challenges, his promise to be better to Kakashi, rewarded with their own strange brand of friendship. But it was too much to hope for more, to bridge the gap between them, press lips and open hands to spaces that only fists and feet had touched before. It was too much to hope to sprout wings halfway down to the waiting abyss or expect to land on his feet.

So why--Guy had to wonder, watching Kakashi watch the stone, novel discarded to the side and hand pressed to one set of names of many--why did it feel so much like waiting?