#c6h12o6

[krystal-prisms]

*watching Starwars*

My dumbass brain- R2D2! C6H12O6!

And then I spent the rest of the movie calling C3PO Glucose

[tanjirine]

C6H12O6

Soulfriends!au

Hobi: embarrassed, legs, and uhhh…sugar.?

            The math problem stared back up at you, a silent, yet glaring taunt at your inability to solve its mystery. This was your fifth time reworking this problem, and boy, weren’t you royally frustrated with it?       

You threw your pen down onto the library desk, the sharp sound of plastic hitting metal reverberating along the ornate shelves, drawing a few annoyed glares towards your corner. Sheepishly smiling an apology, you sighed deeply, before clutching your head in your hands. It was already 9pm, and with the library about to close, your heart sank at the thought of being unable to solve the damn calculus problem.           

Normally, you wouldn’t be caught sitting behind one of the cold metal tables of the university’s library, rough paper strewn across the whole desk, pens in disarray and your face creased by the frustration that arose with doing math problems. Math was something you absolutely hated with a passion, and you were never one for completing the work given on a normal basis.

On a normal Friday night like this? You would be at where you loved the most: behind a mixer, multiple launchpads and two turntables, huge headphones slung around your neck, soaking in the screams and cries of the crowd partying beneath you as you became one with the electrifying atmosphere with the heavy bass pulsing through your veins. Being the resident DJ for your campus on Fridays meant a small dream come true, another small victory in your book. While you never got yourself drunk and found yourself in the arms of a stranger the next morning, you did have your fair share of flirting and fun.    

And your passion may have very well landed you in some trouble this time round.

Looking around, you slowly drew out another packet of brown sugar from the pocket of your hoodie. You gently shook the packet before pinching the edges with your fingers, casually scanning the library for the roaming librarians. You feigned a look of absolute concentration at the problem before you as you slowly tore open the packet. Coaxing a few granules out of the packet, you put on an elaborate show of coughing as you jerked your head backwards, the granules landing lightly on your tongue.

Sugar. To many, sugar was just a spark of life to revive their taste buds, a little thing to switch up a boring cup of coffee. Sugar was annoying to some, hating the sticky sweetness that clung to the back of their throats, of cheap cotton candy and store-bought corn syrup sweets. Sugar, was just something ordinary people used in their ordinary everyday life, without giving it an extraordinary second thought.

Oh, but sugar, to you, was an aphrodisiac. It was what made all your migraines dissolve into nothing, melting away all the tension existing in tight little knots in your back and shoulders, relieving the stress from your entire being. Sugar was what made you function throughout the day, giving you the inspiration you needed in your course as a music major.

You didn’t know why sugar gave you that reprieve, or why you were so dependent on sugar to function. In addition, only those brown sugar granules helped with whatever pain or frustration you had, white sugar or sweets just worsened the situation.

There was, however, one theory that you had mind, which was the possibility that you had a soulfriend in this lifetime, existing somewhere in the world, eating the exact same type of sugar, for the same reasons as you did. Soulfriends were a rarity, occurring only to a handful of people in every generation. You had no way of knowing who your soulfriend was, or when you would meet them, apart from a unique habit that no one else, other than you and your soulfriend, would share.

Even if you met your soulfriend, it wasn’t that much of a big deal. It just meant that you had someone who was really destined to be by your side through the years, as a confidante and as someone you could really depend on.

To make things even better, there was the chance that your soulfriend could also become your soulmate. Not that you’d want one at all. What if, god forbid, your soulmate-to-be was someone you just couldn’t live with?

Letting the sugar dissolve slowly on your tongue, you thought about your last gig, mentally kicking yourself repeatedly. How could you have been so stupid, so careless, as to play DJ J-Hope’s remix instead of your own? And not just any other DJ, but DJ J-Hope, someone whose skill was almost on par with big shots such as Hardwell, DJ Snake and Calvin Harris?

DJ J-Hope was one of the best DJs not just on campus, but in the underground music scene as well. He was incredibly famous for producing beats for underground rappers and producing the backing track for their mixtapes for a minimal fee. On campus, he was just the bright, cheery Hoseok who everyone liked and the resident DJ for the Sunday night slots. All these, were amazing feats for someone who had only started dabbling in mixing for less than two years.

You sighed, slumping against the table as you waited for the sugar to course through your veins. In the library, you could hear the distant sound of a wild gig going on, familiar beats echoing off the walls. Your fingers itched for the controls on the mixer, ears yearning for the harsh scratch of the turntables and the cheers of the crowd, eyes wishing to be blinded by the bright spotlights lazer-trained on you.

But you had already embarrassed yourself at your last gig, playing his remix on accident. What made things worse was that he was in the crowd that night, and when his complex interwoven beats and melody came on instead of your beat drop, those bright brown eyes of his immediately darkened, irritation clearly displayed on those beautiful features of his.  

You had immediately switched the music once you found an opening to transition, resulting in a less than perfect transition. Still, his expression never wavered, his eyes trained on your flustered figure as you rushed to check that the songs you played next weren’t his.

He came to find you backstage after the night was over, his light voice a stark contrast to his eyes, an intense anger swirling withing a warm brown.

“Seriously Y/N, that was such a dirty trick. Just because you had no remix of your own, so you think you can play one of mine? What kind of DJ are you?” he fumed.

Your blood began to boil, incredibly pissed at the way he threw those baseless assumptions at you. However, with your cheeks painted a flaming red, you hastened to apologize to him, giving a few jerky bows as if you were strung like a marionette, knowing better than to anger him further.

“I’m really sorry, I meant to play my remixes but I had accidentally lined up the wrong file,” you explained, struggling to keep your tone as level as possible. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“And it wouldn’t be that your reputation would be ruined on purpose by tomorrow morning then,” he levelly looked at you.

Narrowing your eyes, anger flared up hotly within you. How much of a jerk could he be over an accident?

“Maybe if you let me take over your next gig, next Friday, and do my calculus homework for me instead, I’ll let you off lightly,” he drawled.

Thus, here you were, reworking the same problem again, refusing to give up until you had solved this final question. You threw back the rest of the sugar packet into your mouth, not caring if the librarian caught you.

The sugar quickly dissolving on your tongue, you scanned the question once again, recharged. After a few minutes, you dropped your pen on the table with a sigh, looking at the problem you had just finished.

At least your reputation would be intact for now.

Walking into Composing 3, you found Hoseok hibernating in a corner with his head slumped on the table. You quietly made your way to him, being careful not to make any noise as you drew the piece of paper out of your bag.

As you towered over his sleeping figure, a small smile toyed at the corners of your lips. Taking the piece of paper in your hand, you hovered the corner of the paper above his exposed neck, allowing the corner to brush against his skin lightly.

And his hand shot up to catch your swaying arm, catching you totally off guard. Your fingers released the worksheet of its own accord, causing the paper to slowly flutter downwards into Hoseok’s waiting hand.

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth slightly agape at the chain of events that had just occurred. How dare he touch you and the absolute nerve of him to sit there and give you a cherubic smile when his eyes clearly reflected the depths of hell?

Tearing your hand out of his grasp, you shot him an irritated glare and reached into your pocket to draw out a packet of sugar as you left, only for the damn packet to drop on the floor.

Today’s really not my day, you thought, pinching your eyelids closed before inhaling a deep breath in a bid to calm yourself down. Slowly exhaling, you opened your eyes and bent down to reach for the packet, only to touch the cold linoleum floor.

You whirled around in anger, eyes darting around quickly as you tried to find your sugar packet. A triangle of white peeked out from the underside of a black loafer, and you quickly looked up, only to see Hoseok’s face.

But this time round, while anger radiated from your face, his was one of shock, the smile completely wiped off his face.

You were absolutely livid now, banging Hoseok’s table with your hand. The sugar needed to be in your system right now, before you completely blew up.

Gritting your teeth, you spit out, “Get your foot off my sugar packet before I tear up the work I had done for you on Friday. Now.”

Hoseok remained frozen, his eyes fixated on yours. Rolling your eyes in frustration, you banged the table before raising your voice.

“Now!”

But Hoseok was still unmoving, a slightly awed expression replacing the former one of shock. The boiling in your veins reached a peak, and you let out a scream of frustration, turning around and storming away from the annoyance that was Hoseok.

“You’re my soulfriend.”

Those three small, whispered words, those words that you hoped that you would never hear in your life, stopped you entirely in your tracks and leeched the heat from your veins.

You had never imagined you would even have one, since the chances of having one were so rare, so unheard of, much less even meeting them.

No, no, this is not happening, you thought.

You slowly pivoted around to face Hoseok, stumbling slightly in the process, only to see him draw out an incredibly familiar packet of brown sugar from his pocket, his face stretched into a grin.

Most people in the world would be beyond happy to find their soulfriend.

But for you, at that moment, your whole world shattered right before your eyes, like those granules of sugar, never meant to be pieced back together.

[cigarettesandcoffee]

Welcome back 🐜

🐜 Bring us the Cube™

[love-pyramus]

I just got flashbacks

[sugarbeef]

why don’t people want to sugarcoat things? i very much enjoy sugar. it makes things better. unless you have diabetes. then it does not, in fact, make things. better.

[lovinggalaxysheep]

احسب الارتفاع فى درجة الغليان لمحلول يحتوى على 50g من الجلوكوز C6H12O6 مذابة فى 500g من الماء بعد ذلك احسب الانخفاض فى درجة التجمد للمحلول نفسه

احسب الارتفاع فى درجة الغليان لمحلول يحتوى على 50g من الجلوكوز C6H12O6 مذابة فى 500g من الماء بعد ذلك احسب الانخفاض فى درجة التجمد للمحلول نفسه

سؤالنا اليوم هو احسب الارتفاع فى درجة الغليان لمحلول يحتوى على 50g من الجلوكوز C6H12O6 مذابة فى 500g من الماء بعد ذلك احسب الانخفاض فى درجة التجمد للمحلول نفسه والاجابة عليه هي احسب الارتفاع فى درجة الغليان لمحلول يحتوى على 50g من الجلوكوز C6H12O6 مذابة فى 500g من الماء بعد ذلك احسب الانخفاض فى درجة التجمد للمحلول نفسه حدث نشر السؤال بتاريخ 2018-09-07 01:43:43

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[titimiti1984]

Eyes tired not looking at you

[feedmetexts]