and turns out my mom was so wrong about where he even was i was like

“Jealousy”

A/N: This is set in modern day so don’t be confused when it says something about them talking out their phones.

Pairing: Richie x Eddie

Description: Richie is jealous because some guy is flirting with Eddie.

Warning: None really just some cursing, and making out. They are aged up so don’t flip out.

Word count: 1509


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I am SO happy

So about 4 days ago my brother was working in the yard and he was getting rid of this big old plastic pot we had that was already falling apart. To fit it in the garbage bag he had to smash it into smaller pieces with a shovel.

But when he dumped out the dirt….

…eggs. Ten little eggs.


My mom brought them in to show me. Not knowing what they were or if they were dangerous or not, she asked me if I wanted to take one and open it up outside to make sure it wasn’t full of baby bugs or something. I told her that they were definitely reptile eggs but she was still giving them the ‘I-still-don’t-trust-that-they-aren’t-bugs’ look.

I knew there was no way it was full of bugs and I wouldn’t be able to get it off my mind if we cut one out and killed it. But then I remembered candling.

If you don’t know what candling is, it’s when you put a flashlight under an egg to check if it’s fertile or not.

So I told her to hold on and I ran to get a flashlight.

Lo and behold they were not bugs.

It was our first time ever candling anything so we weren’t exactly sure what to look for. The only videos I had ever seen for candling an egg was a video talking about how some geckos lay eggs without a mate but there is a rare chance they could be fertile anyway; the eggs in the video were always empty though. So we checked all the eggs and they were all alive and responsive. I managed to convince my family that I was 99% sure they were lizards of some kind.

Since we kind of accidentally destroyed their nest and a storm was coming we set out to give them somewhere safe to hatch.

 We got a pot and filled it with damp dirt like the one we found them in but smaller. After candling each egg, we made a divot in the dirt and placed each egg half in and half off, careful not to turn them too much and damage them.

My mom did some research and found that the eggs needed to be kept somewhere with good humidity so we got a plastic book crate, drilled some holes in it, and filled the bottom with wet paper towels.

The mystery eggs were put in the garage where it was just as hot as outside but safe from the huge thunderstorm.

Day 2 of eggs and nothing happened. We didn’t think anything would happen just yet but we were all a little worried that we were doing the wrong thing. It was my day to go finish up cleaning up the dirt and shards from the broken pot in the yard when I found another egg.

I picked it up and it wasn’t as firm as the others. In fact it was leaking. I called my mom and candled the little guy. He was just as alive as the others were. There wasn’t much room in the new incubator with the other eggs so we got a tiny beta fish tank we haven’t used in years and fixed it up for the egg. We put it in the garage next to the others.

Now this egg had me worried. He had been out in the storm with a damaged egg. I would go out and check on him throughout the day. Not a thing happened and I was starting to worry that he didn’t make it.

Day 3 of eggs was interesting. I went out to check again on little egg 11 with my mom. She asked how the others were doing and wanted to see. It was fogged up on the inside so I shone a light through and saw it. A head! A little baby lizard head poking out of the egg! 

The incubator was taken inside and everyone was gathered around the table. We would all switch from watching the eggs, to someone doing research, to checking the eggs, to setting up the empty tank we had, to checking the eggs again.

All together 4 little lizards were hatching. They’d kick for a bit in their eggs but then fall asleep because it was so tiring. 

After a while my mom got concerned about one that hadn’t opened its eyes in ages. It wasn’t moving. I picked up the egg and put it in my hand. I rubbed the shell and gently gave it little tugs. Then out the baby came!

This little guy came out healthy and fast. After a brief look-around he ran out of my hand and back into the pot. Then over the edge of the pot to explore the hides we fit in. 

After 4 of the babies fully hatched and we figured out what we were going to do, we put the incubators in the spare tank we had so we could keep an eye on them. At that point it was a little past 1:00am and a 5th egg started to hatch.

Day 4 of eggs and lizards we went to the local pet store to get something that these super small babies could eat. Luckily, Petco carries super small crickets and meal worms. We loaded up on reptile supplies: bus, vitamin dust, hides, heat lamps, you name it we probably bought it.

Upon getting home my mother and I readied the tank.

At that point all but two eggs had hatched. One we thought wasn’t going to make it because it didn’t react when I candled it, and the other was number 11 who was found a day late and broken. We decided to move the two into one incubator instead of two while we moved 9 of the lizards into their temporary home.

When we look for them they were hiding in the incubator all curled up together under a plant we had put in. They actually seem to do that everywhere they decide to hide which is kind of surprising to me. I thought they were going to all be really territorial with each other. But they seem to like each other more than I thought they would.

After a few hours, number 11 hatched and he was just as healthy and fast as the others despite being through the storm earlier. Not too long after that, the last egg hatched. He was much smaller than the others but equally as fast. We added them both to the tank with the others and they hid as quick as a ninja.

Day 5 of lizards was mostly setting up heat lamps and lights and worrying if they were okay. They stayed hidden under rocks and brush. We never saw them eat so we went back to researching.

Day 6 of lizards and they are alive and well! They’ve taken a liking to the new heat lamp and have been scuttling around there all day. I even saw one eat a cricket! 

Even the smallest of the bunch was enjoying himself in the warmth :)

I will continue to take care of them until it comes time to release them back to their natural habitat. I’ll keep you all updated. It’s such a strange and wonderful learning experience :) 

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

Homestuck Pool Party Headcanons

John: Canonballs in IMMEDIATELY, he is yelling and he is fucking excited move out of the way this boy is coming through!! Also, because he has a breath aspect I am 413% certain that he can stay underwater for indefinite amounts of time and you can bet your ass he’s going around grabbing people’s feet to freak them out. He and Terezi have a contest to see who can make the most people jump, I will not say who wins I will only say that it is unfortunate for everyone involved. He and Dave are an unstoppable chicken team, they have never lost and will do Whatever It Takes to make sure that remains true.

Dave: Is just chillin, he cares more about keeping his shades dry than swimming around. He will go hard as hell in Marco Polo tho, if you thought he was too cool to jump at the nearest person faster than the speed of light you were wrong buddy he will do what it takes to WIN. Also, when he is the Marco he will (unfairly) target Karkat. This is frustrating. “I’m not even being that loud” Karkat protests for the umpteenth time Dave tags him. “Bullshit” everyone else says, but there’s still a rule that Dave can’t tag Karkat more than five times in a row because really Dave we know you love hearing him yell but Enough Please.

Karkat: Is Bad At Marco Polo. He is so loud. My son. Please. Is very hesitant to get into the water at first bc he’s sensitive to the cold and would rather angrily sweat than deal with the initial shock of getting in. Dave will patiently chill nearby until Karkat is ready, or Dave decides that Karkat is ready in which he will absolutely drag him in. Karkat does not know how to swim so he won’t go past the shallow end, and considering how short he is, uh, that’s not very much of the pool. Dave has to carry him sometimes which he complains about A Lot but secretly kind of likes it whoops. Karkat and Sollux are the shittiest chicken team, Karkat is too afraid of falling in to have any sort of effective strategy and Sollux is like “Karkat just push him” and sort of plows into the other team which just leads to Karkat screeching and nothing gets done.

Roxy: LOVES SWIMMING WITH HER FRIENDS!!! Real people?? That she’s hanging out with?? And you KNOW she’s excited to wear that cute as fuck bikini she alchemized months ago ‘just in case’ ;) ;) ;). After years of knowing Jane and her silly prankster shenanigans, John will absolutely not get the drop on her no sir, he tries to grab her foot she will raise that leg and pull the boy out of the water and give him the Mom Look™. This is war. John will not win. She loves being with Jane and Roxy and her boys!! She is just full of so much love it’s incredible. She deserves this so much.

Calliope: Doesn’t know much about swimming or why humans (and trolls ish) find it so enjoyable, but Roxy is excited so she is too! Interestingly enough, cherubs Do Not Float. Roxy is waving a nervous Callie into the pool and she’s coming down the ladder and once it gets to her chin everyone expects her to do something but no, she makes it to the bottom of the pool and just walks like normal over to where Roxy is. The water level comes up to just below her nose and she has to tilt her head back to speak. “Like this?” She asks excitedly, ‘uh,,, yeah,,,like that’ everyone responds nervously, giving big smiles and thumbs up because they don’t want to disappoint her.

Jade: A master swimmer, she and Jake grew up on an island in the middle of the goddamn pacific my girl knows how to GO. No one realized how fucking ripped Jade was. Jade is ripped as heck. She’s got back and shoulder muscles like an absolute goddess and everyone is like holy shit? Jade? Have you been benching pumpkins all these years? She likes chilling with Jane and Roxy and Calliope because she has been longing for some gals to hang with forever. Not that she doesn’t love Rose, she does, it’s just, they have such differing personalities and anyways it’s kind of hard being around her and Kanaya bc they’re so cute it makes your teeth hurt.

Rose: She and Kanaya have matching floppy sun hats, they love laying out in the sun because Kanaya is a little nervous around water thanks to a certain sea-dweller *cough* eridan *cough*. Rose doesn’t mind, her swimsuits are more for show than swim anyways. She’s got some really cool and intricate goth-y ones and some nice lighthearted pastel ones, an orange and yellow fancy one-piece and a frilly lavender one. Rose has a new appreciation for sunlight but still religiously applies sunscreen because a home girl may be immortal, but fuck if she is gonna deal with any nasty sunburns after defeating the fucking embodiment of evil.

Kanaya: As previously stated, very nervous around water, but so so happy to be in the sun?? It’s not as bright as the one on Alternia which is fine because that means her troll friends can enjoy it too, but she’s literally just so happy to be around people that enjoy the sun the way she does because she’s felt wrong and different about it for years and she finally found someone that understands her ahhshshsjs. She designs all of Rose’s swimsuits and loves seeing her wear them. When it gets dark out, she likes to turn on the glow a little and all these cute little furry wingbeasts will flock to her?? “Those are moths” Rose tells her. “These are my children now” Kanaya pats Rose’s arm, they’re her children too because that’s how human marriage works she’s pretty sure

Dirk: Is so awkward oh my godddd, a little uncomfortable in his body actually? This boy might have muscle but he is all arms and legs and doesn’t know what to do with them because he’s never fuckifnfnfn been around people before. Doesn’t say “Marco” during Marco Polo, he just listens. Breath too loud? You’re tagged. Splash a little? Tagged. Move? Tagged. He’s never Marco for more than two minutes because he’s so in tune with his reflexes that no one even stands a chance. With Jake on his shoulders, they make a decent chicken team, but they’re too worried about each other to be effective. “You okay up there?” He wants to make sure. Someone is tipping Jake over oh no get him off my shoulders is he okay, oh he’s fine, yes I know how the game works Roxy, no Rose why don’t you get in the pool and do a better job before you come for me like that. Rose and Kanaya, in an extremely rare occurrence, do get in for a round of chicken. They beat Dirk and Jake almost immediately. They return to the deck. This never happened and we don’t speak of it.

Jake: Is bad at Marco Polo, he’s an amazing swimmer but he’s not…quiet. After growing up on that island, fighting and swimming, Jake is also Ripped as Heck. Dirk blushes his fucking ass off the first time he sees Jake shirtless. Jake acts all clueless like oh? What’s wrong Dirk? Is something the matter? But he knows exactly what he’s doing and if he’s subtly flexing in front of him, well. That can’t be helped. He may suck during chicken with Dirk, but with Jade on his shoulders? Hoo boy, they give Dave and John a run for their money. He is also John’s favorite to grab the feet of because his reactions are always so over the top with his phrasing. “Horsefeathers!” He grabs at his foot in panic because his first thought is it was one of the monsters from his island, then he sees it was just John who is laughing his ass off because, horse feathers? Really? “I say,” Jake huffs indignantly even though he’s smiling now. “Warn a fellow!”

Jane: Looks rockin’ in her swimsuits because she’s wearing the whole high waisted pinup style ones and?? She’s super gorgeous? Roxy makes sure to tell her that every five seconds just in case she forgets. She and Roxy make a decent chicken team, usually they’re laughing so hard by the end of it that whoever was on top can’t do anything and they fall off because they don’t care about winning they’re just having such a good time. She and Roxy take turns carrying Callie around when the water gets too deep, not that Callie needs to be above the water per se as she seems to have no trouble breathing, but it just makes everyone a little more comfortable and anyways Callie loves it.

Terezi: Killer at Marco Polo for obvious reasons, sometimes she gets tagged on purpose just to show off how quickly she can find people. The only person she’s never been able to get is John, he uses his windy powers to obscure his scent so she can’t “see” him. He is her Marco Polo white whale. One day, John, one day. She and Vriska are terrifying during chicken, Vriska will plow full speed towards the opposing team and Terezi is ready to Throw Hands. The most intense games are between them and John and Dave, both John and Terezi are on top and they fuckin battle it out so hard that Dave and even Vriska start to get nervous on the bottom.

Sollux: Says the water feels slimy. “No shit,” Karkat tells him. “It’s water you fucking shitstain.” Sollux cheats during chicken by using his psiionics to keep Karkat on his shoulders which only makes Karkat mad because he’s terrified of falling in and holy shit Sollux I don’t care what you think your powers are doing I’m gonna fall in fuck fuck fuck. “No I got you” Sollux assures him. He does not. Karkat is not got. Oh well. Sollux mostly likes chilling on inner tubes, plural. He has a blue one and a red one because he’s too tall to fit in just one. “Get a bigger inner tube” Karkat complains. “Perhaps get one of those long, recliner like ones?” Kanaya suggests. No. Sollux will use two inner tubes. He will make the sacrifice of comfort for his aesthetic.

when i was seven the sea-witch cursed me.

she cursed my great-grandfather, actually, who had spat on the hands of the ocean and disrespected the beating heart of the earth - for what else are waves but a pulse - who was silly and violent and who tried to rip from the water what was hers by rights. we were wealthy, before that, a family of merchants. my mother says in her youth she recalls white horses, the gleam of candles, early mornings with bread baked fresh by a horde of servants.

he didn’t ask permission to cross her. that’s what my mother tells me while she spoons porridge with no flavor into the wood of my bowl. he had no faith in superstition, rode with boats that were more decoration than strength, the folly of a man who was cruel and vain and proud of his own gold teeth. the sky had been blue, so regardless of what the village witch said, he would sail that day. and when his boat sank; their lives turned blue like the sky that day.

my mother says she thinks the curse on the men of our family, even if they come in when they marry, is that they will forever be violent, too foolish to see the storm on the horizon. she whispers this to me on the eve of my seventh birthday, while father is his own storm, thundering around the house, looking for her. later, when i am cleaning the cut by her cheek, she tells me the curse is on the women to forever be unhappy, to wane until they are shadows, to walk into the deep like a sinking ship. 

we don’t burn candles often, they are too expensive. she tells me this in the silk of a dark room. the moon kisses her hair. 

in three days, my mother will walk into the ocean, and my father will be my own problem. the curse will pass onto me. 

my father does not believe in superstition, no curse to conquer him. when he is gone, and i am heartbroken, i go to the village witch. i ask her to teach me about magic, and other things, and about how the ocean can be coaxed, and how to save my father’s soul. 

and my hands rot too, keeping a house by myself with things i barely knew. i learn the art of a good scrubbing, keep my mind full of white horses while i endlessly clean, dream of candles in dark while i make the bread that he will not allow me to eat. he keeps me from the ocean, from visiting the place that took my mom, from following in her footsteps where the water makes women undone.

i am sixteen when i see her in the water of a bowl. she scares me so completely that i drop it, and my father comes in with his hands, and the curse, and i almost forget all about it. it isn’t until after that i realize she is beautiful, and young, which surprises me. 

i think about it every evening. her face becomes distorted to me. i can no longer remember the exact shape of it, only the impression of beauty. 

i turn seventeen and wait for the high moon. i pin safety to my vest in little witch herbs and runes. i put naked toes on the sand and slip closer, closer, to the avenue of my family’s doom. i find a little private beach, small and surrounded by rocks, hidden from my father in the event he ever thought to come looking. at high tide, it is barely the span of my body. at low, it feels empty.

the witch of the land has given me what i need to call in the witch of the sea, but i do not use it. it feels wrong, somehow, standing here in the wind and the quiet pulse of the world. i put down the incense and sage and i sit just close enough it feels wild, dangerous - but not close enough to get caught up in thrill. 

when nothing happens, i go home and i make bread that i will not eat.

for months i do this. i climb down to my beach. i learn to do it when the moon is half, and then when the moon is empty. i learn to do it so well that sometimes i go to sleep in my own bed and wake up by the water. i take to sleeping with warding runes to keep me from being pulled in the rip out to the waiting hands of a hungry sea-witch.

i don’t know when i start talking. more often i sing, because singing in my house is not allowed, and something about the way the rocks echo my voice feels comforting. the older i get, the more i can pretend i hear my mother’s voice, answering me, harmonizing gently. i sing songs about sadness and lullabies about curses. when i have exhausted every song i know, i write new ones about fathers who have never learned how to be kind, about the house i work in but do not love, about mothers who left, and about a sea witch.

i see her sometimes. in a puddle, in the drop of rain, in the strangest places. i never expect it, although i always hope. i am never able to see her for more than the length of a wave, breaking, and each time, it does something new to my heart.

at eighteen i am too much of my father’s burden. he tries to unload me onto other men. the land witch helps me with this. i rub hemlock, burn wolfsbane. we arrange so these men have other women to marry. the news of my curse is bad enough to scare most away. my father is not happy.

after a particularly savage night, i wonder how bad it could be. i could marry some boy from the village who didn’t quite bother me. i suppose they’re not ugly. timothy had always been gentle to me. i think about a life, and how i am cursed to be unhappy. my father would finally be proud of me.

i walk to the beach and i tell the waves about him and how i could convince myself it was love if i just never wanted from him. how i could be okay, if not content, how i could be free, how i already had learned life down on knees.

but i go home and i write a rune of warding. and the years pass and i find reasons each suitor is wanting. and the sea witch i see, sometimes, peeking out at me, staying long each time in the water, looking, watching. i see her in mirrors when my father storms against me. it is bad because he mistakes the cause of my smiling. it is better when she is there the next morning.

and i go to the ocean. when i am too sad to speak, it seems like the ocean is whispering for me. i picture my mother’s voice and tell myself i am happy. i am seven again and we are sewing. i am seven again and the curse has not been given to me. i am seven and she came home after she walked to the sea.

i grow silly, brave, unthinking. i leave behind the herbs and i wade deep. i teach myself the art of swimming. i am bad at it, at first, but something about it feels good to me. like the ocean wants to buoy me. in the day i think of it, guilty. what if there was a rip tide, and the water took me? who would care for my father if i stepped off the beach into a long drop? wasn’t i clever enough to know that the ocean is uncaring?

it is not this that does it. i go out after a rain and i slip on the rocks and suddenly i am in water above my head but without the moon i cannot see the up of it. i kick and i thrash and the water surrounds me. the tide pulls on my body and in the cold i feel my body grow weary. water spills into me. it punches through my body, up my nose and into my lungs and some part of me knows this is what mother felt before she was gone.

i kick ground by accident, reorient, drag myself heaving and spitting into the air. i lie there for a long time, half in and half out of death, enjoying the sensation of breathing and of life.

when i look up, i think i see her, watching me, her brows knit with something like worry. but we make eye contact and my heart leaps and then she is gone and i am left alone with nothing but the dawn breaking.

my father is furious when there is no bread. he finds my hair wet, and the salt of the ocean still smelling on me. and that is it. that day he goes out and pays someone to agree to marry me.

this feels right to me, i think. i’m twenty-one, three times seven, a perfect number for a curse to fully come down on me. i will be wed in three weeks.

the land witch comes to visit me. she looks like she’s sorry for me. she gives me a spell and tells me to put it under my pillow; i’ll dream of love and it will soothe me. instead i dream of the seawitch, and how wonderful she is, and the sight of her, out on the water, worried.

even though it is risky, i go down to the beach. i do not bother with protective spells, i have already seen that the water can kill me. fear alone keeps me from wandering. i sit on the beach and in the sand i draw runes for understanding and i make the small magicks i’ve spent years learning and i close my eyes and i ask the ocean “why do you do this to me.”

i fall asleep. i dream that the sea witch talks to me. i dream she is my age, that she is the great-granddaughter of the first to curse my family. i dream she has spent years watching, learning, finding the truth of me. that she just needs to get the courage to come and speak, that she has fallen in love with my singing, that she knows no curse but the one in her heart that brings her back to a human, to a creature of air and not water, to a mistake in the making.

in the dawn i know it is a dream and no more. i make bread. i pour water out before it can make mirrors. i do not look. i do not like the ache that has filled me, as if i’ve been looking for an answer and the answer only leads to longing.

the man i meet - my husband-to-be - is delighted by the house i keep. he believes a woman should keep in her place, and her place should be clean. he hears from neighbors that sometimes i sneak out to the land witch’s house. laughter barks out of him. not going to allow that behavior, not me. he does not believe in curses. he will pack me up and move me from the ocean to somewhere in the mountains, where i know nobody. and i will, he promises, learn to keep my place, and that place clean.

i tell myself i could love him. he is not ugly. he says i’m pretty enough after whiskey. my father mentions i used to sing. i refuse to perform for these men so instead i make them cookies. they laugh and talk about me, even when i am in the room, as if they cannot even see. they shake hands and talk about how useless a woman is for much else than breeding. it’s very funny. the man meets my eyes and promises he’ll put a baby in me. i look down and pretend the thrill i feel is excitement, not fear brewing in me.

the land witch comes by a week before my wedding. she is smaller these days, aging. her apprentice and i get along wonderfully. the two women stand before me, holding something. 

a small box, so tiny and lovely. “break the curse,” the witch whispers, “learn to be happy.”

i smuggle the box, take it everywhere with me. it is days before i have a moment to slip away, to open it by the sea. i take a candle with me, even though my father will notice and be angry.

by the light of fire i read the spell they have left me inside, and then i am so full of gratitude i cannot stop crying.

it must be a full moon, so i must wait. in the meantime, i walk home, and i bake. 

i do not see the seawitch, even though i look for her. maybe i have wounded her, getting married. my father asks why i keep smiling. i tell him it is because i am finally with a man. he grunts and says to stop looking so silly. 

the man kisses me. i let him. we are married on a night with a full moon, and i poison him and my father in the bread i did not eat. i think of how these men were cursed so they could not see a storm coming. i watch them as they lie there, dying, and then i put all of the things i own into a basket for the land witch. i leave it there with a song i wrote for her, a spell i know will make her happy, will stop the aging of her joints, will give her the kind of relief she gave me. 

i go down to the water. i find myself running, even though i am in no hurry. i know the way so well it is like i wake up there, panting. i ask permission first. i lay out the contents of the box, i organize and practice and when the needle and pain comes, i am ready for it. i am used to pain at night. i breathe into it and walk naked into waters that swallowed my mother.

i chew bitter herbs. i swallow fire. i feel myself drown as i change from land witch to sea witch. 

when it is done, i open my eyes in the deep of a moonlit ocean. and i see her. 

this time she does not flicker. this time when i reach for her, she is there, and she is pushing my hair out of my eyes, and we are kissing with the ocean rejoicing around us, and i am laughing, and i hear her voice as clear as bell inside me.

and we live like this, a whole world between us where white horses are the size of pinky fingers and swim with their thin snouts, where i need no candles because i was raised lightless, where we have no servants but the water takes care of us. i show her the magic of land and she unfolds the magic of water. together we are unstoppable. when i come up to the air to sing little girls a promise that they can survive the madness, she sings with me, and we make a beautiful harmony.

OK so since @tom-hiddleston-god-of-mischief and other people showed interest, I bumped up my schedule and so…

Here is my ‘Craig is totally gay and was in love with the MC in college’ post!

So, first off- this is Craig Cahn and the thing that made me first think that he was gay instead of bi. (And fyi I am a Bi myself, so this is more headcanoning and exploring character and not trying to stomp on other headcanons, jsyk.)

Yeah the very first time we met. But look- divorces do happen, and do happen in a chill manner. But… let us note a couple things. One, the divorce literally only happened ‘last year’. Which could mean anywhere from (assuming this is the spring due to college letters and school timetables) 12+ to only 3-ish months ago depending on what counts as ‘last year’.

You only get a SECOND of him being uncomfortable while breaking the news before he is on even ground and is like ‘yeah it’s old news and everything is in perfect order now’. AND THE DIVORCE HAPPENED EITHER WHILE SMASHLEY WAS PREGNANT OR JUST HAD RIVER. Now, this could be a him lying, except… it’s never really brought up again as a thing? Like, we deal with Mat’s feelings for his dead wife, Joseph’s failing marriage, and etc but despite how recent it was we are lead to believe their divorce was perfectly amicable despite the timing.  (Now placing a cut here because this gets long and has more pics.)

Keep reading

waking up the wolf inside

[here’s the full story, thanks for reading!]

-

Derek Hale is two hours late. At each passing minute, Stiles feels angrier and the only reason he hasn’t left is because Derek needs to come home at some point and when he does, Stiles is going to yell at him so hard he’s going to give him this interview just to send Stiles away.

Stiles can be pretty annoying when he wants to, that’s how he gets most of his job done.

Derek Hale though, he’s been fucking infuriating. For starters he lives in the middle of nowhere, Stiles got lost twice before he found someone who actually knew where Derek’s freaking cabin is. And there’s also the fact that he’s a nobody - Stiles’ only picture of him is from his High School graduation, like, fifteen years ago.

And that’s the most fascinating thing – not many people know about him but the ones who do can’t stop praising his work. The guy is an angel, but instead of protecting people he protects wolves. According to Scott’s boss – who’s like, the one person who has seen Derek in person and can attest he’s real – Derek has a vet degree, doesn’t like people and built his own cabin in the woods. To live amongst the wolves.

Stiles needs to interview this guy. At first because he got curious about a thirty-one year old guy living alone and now it’s about pride. He doesn’t just spend two hours outside someone’s house, especially when it’s snowing.

“Come on.” He groans. It’s freaking Alaska. Angel or not – Derek Hale is also a huge dick.

Stiles is beginning to think about breaking into the guy’s house (he can’t feel his toes) when he hears a car and a minute later a battered truck is parking next to Stiles’ rental car.

The man who steps out looks nothing like the High School picture Stiles found. For starters he look like a mountain man with a beard that does nothing but make him look hotter, the jeans doesn’t leave much to imagination either when it comes to his ass and the huge winter coat only accentuates his broad shoulders.

Stiles swallows. “Hey!” He yells, watching as Derek opens the back door. “Derek Hale?” He can’t hide his groan when Derek barely spares him a glance. “Hey, it’s freaking freezing here, you know?”

Derek lets out a groan of his own as he lifts something in his arms and steps away from the car. “I know.” He walks towards the house and as he gets closer, Stiles notices Derek is carrying a wolf. “Now, help me out here, yeah?”

Stiles doesn’t even think twice before dropping his bag and stepping closer. “What can I do?”

“Grab the key,” Derek instructs, “it’s in my back pocket.”

Later, Stiles will want to hide his face in embarrassment but now he can only think about the poor wolf whining in Derek’s arms as he touches Derek’s ass to find the key to open Derek’s house.

Once inside, Derek deposits the wolf on the floor, wrapping him further with blankets and asks Stiles to light up the fire as he goes around the house collecting things. “Is he going to be okay?” Stiles asks as Derek kneels in front of the wolf and runs a soothing hand over his head.

“Hopefully.” Derek answers. “And it’s a girl.” He tells Stiles. “She’s in labor.”

What.” Stiles squeaks. “Really? But –”

“In the kitchen,” Derek interrupts him, “get some hot water, and close the fucking door.”

Stiles blinks, watches as Derek tells her everything is going to be okay. She’s obviously uncomfortable, but stops squirming when Derek smiles and runs his hands over her belly.

Water.” Derek growls.

“Right.” Stiles gets on his feet. He so didn’t sign up for this.


“So,” he collapses on the floor, “does this happen a lot?”

Derek collapses next to him, eyes on the mother wolf and her six pups. “Is this part of your interview?”

Stiles snorts and rolls his eyes. “No, this is just me trying not to freak out.” He turns to look at Derek – his eyes are green, he realizes, and beautiful, he adds mentally.

“No, this doesn’t happen often.” Derek answers, finally. “Thankfully.”

Stiles nods and smiles when Derek turn to him. “You’re amazing.” He blurts out and Derek blinks, surprised. “Anyway,” Stiles shakes his head, tries to pretend the butterflies in his stomach are just from the adrenaline rush, “we’ll have to postpone the interview, but I think that’s justifiable.” He gets up, looks at his hands and realizes they are covered in blood. Ew. “Uh, can I use your bathroom before I go?”

“Go?” Derek asks, standing up too.

“I’m gonna get a hotel in town.” The nearest town is two hours away, but what can you do? He glances at the sleeping wolves. It’s not like this was Derek’s fault. “I think.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Derek says, bluntly. Stiles snorts – yeah, Derek really doesn’t have a way with people. “I have a spare bedroom.”

Stiles smiles. “Thank you.” He says. “I don’t really like driving in the snow.”

“Who does.” Derek says, asks maybe. Stiles still doesn’t know him, but as he follows Derek up the stairs, he realizes he really wants to.

Keep reading

Sugiyama Noriaki interview for “Otomedia” Magazine October 2017

Before we start I want to clarify 2 things:

1) I translated only Uchiha Family stuff (it’s about 80% of all interview). Maybe one day my laziness and self-confidence in my translating skills will let me translate it till the end (or someone else translates it) but for now only SasuSakuSara parts.
2) English is not my native language so if you see any grammatical, lexical and other mistakes or just don’t understand some parts feel free to write me. 

This story tells about the final of the difficult situation that has developed in the Uchiha family!

 Was Sasuke (even in his own way) as nervous as Sarada was? While emotions are increasing, the strength of their family’s bond warms the heart. Is it really because of the nervousness in the 23 episode he doubts whether he should poke Sakura’s forehead? We asked about this seiyuu of Sasuke, Noriaki Sugiyama.

“Without words he said to Sakura: Are you really willing to do something so embarrassing in front of your daughter?” It was funny to watch him teasing her (laughs) It seemed to me this shyness was very much in Sasuke’s style. Honestly, after the end of the recording, Naruto’s seiyuu, Takeuchi Junko, said to me: “No, I don’t believe that he could do otherwise!” (laughs), probably Takeuchi-san is right. “ 

We talked a lot with Sugiyama-san about Sarada’s Story. After reuniting with his family, Sasuke again goes on a journey. However, there is bento in his hand made by his family therefore even if they’re apart, their family’s connection is felt even more. 

- How it was to play Sasuke as father and husband?

In "Boruto” Sasuke Uchiha appears to be different from what we’ve seen before. So I often wondered how I should play him. Of course, in «Naruto» he and Naruto sorted all things out, his character somewhat “softened,” but if you change a lot the nature of the character, in the end you will ask: “Who is it?” (laughs). Therefore, to prevent this from happening, I had to think carefully how to express this softness in Sasuke’s style, how would he show it? I believe that it is unlikely that Sasuke would say a lot of gentle words to his daughter … at first glance, Sasuke could look indifferent, given his violent past, but I’ve felt that he certainly thinks about Sarada. And I thought it would be very difficult to balance.

- There was a scene where in his words to his wife Sakura you could feel a “trust”.

There is a reason why Sasuke was absent from the village, that is why I think that during their meeting you can feel how much their relationship changed, especially from Sasuke’s side. Although the atmosphere is similar to the one that was before… how to say it more precisely, there is a mutual understanding between them. At least, I felt it. 

- What’s about Naruto?

 In my opinion, one of the most notable changes was his attitude towards Naruto’s words. After they sorted all things out, instead of cutting Naruto off with words «it’s wrong!» Sasuke rather thinks: “Well, most likely this idea also can be right”. If you compare with the former Sasuke, you can get the impression that in his mind he’s indulgent to Naruto. I think, instead of “a little softened” (about a small change in Sasuke) it would be more correct to say: “Ah, he seems to have become a little kinder.”
  I think if Sasuke was too kind to Sakura and Sarada, Sarada wouldn’t have had all these worries. The image of Sasuke should have turned out to make Sarada think: “Does this man understand what kind of relationship should be between the father and the child?” And this is also difficult.

 - Sugiyama-san, what is your impression of Sasuke’s daughter, Sarada?

 I think with the way she thinks and her insight she’s just like Sasuke. And love. In the Uchiha clan, “they are penetrated with love, that’s why they try to avoid this feeling” and Sarada also inherited it with the blood of Uchiha (laughs). In my opinion, the child is very cute. From her mother Sakura, she gets both love and trust, but you can see how much she wants to know the truth, she want everything to be clarified. Here, the blood of Uchiha has proven itself especially strong.  

- Is there any scene and phrase in the story of “Sarada Uchiha” which really impressed you?

There are a few, but the most exciting of them, when Sarada asked: “Do you think your feelings are well and truly connected to Mom?”, and when Sasuke replied: “Because we have you, Sarada,” what surprised her. Even if he doesn’t say a lot “Sarada, Sarada”, his concern for her is evident. Sasuke’s position can be understood, because if he were in Konoha, it could bring danger to Sarada and Sakura, so he wanted to eliminate all those who sought revenge on him in the village or outside of Konoha. In the village, he has people dear to him, to whom he can’t return, and he strongly feels that he must protect them from the outside.


Translated from Russian to English by me
Translated from Japanese to Russian by SasuSakuTeam. Мастерская переводов

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

Keep reading

Hit and Run (Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader)

Requested by:@s-e-x-l-o-s-t ( you should really write an imagine where a reader is friends with steve and the kids and in that scene where steve gets out of the bus to confront the demo-dogs one of them attacks him but the reader gets the nail bat and kick the hell out of it and the kids are like omg wtf the demo-dogs go away and steve just kisses the reader, sorry this is so long, you’re writing is incredibly good!)

Summary: You weren’t expecting to spend your evening with a bunch of middle schoolers, and Steve Harrington in the middle of a junkyard, fighting yet another demogorgon. Or demogorgons. 

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: few curse words here and there and some smooching ofc

Note: I changed the scene up a little and made her attacking the demo-dog on the bus! It’s still basically the same!! I hope you like it :))

HELLA Spoilers for Season 2!!

Originally posted by mikkeljensen

You were planning on spending today in doors, either drawing or studying, not in the back of Steve Harrington’s car with a middle schooler in the front giving you mad attitude while telling you this story of how this demon-slug he found Halloween night turned into a demogorgon and ate his cat. Then escaped the cellar he locked it in by digging through the ground.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked, staring at Dustin with complete bewilderment, “It ate Mews!?” you frowned now, Dustin nodded, and you pouted slightly, “That’s fucked up, your mom came over crying about if we’ve seen Mews the other day!” you pointed, Dustin sighed.

“I know, I know- but I can’t exactly tell her that some demogorgon ate her cat now can I?”

You scowled at him, shaking your head and then looked to Steve, “So what’s the plan?”

Steve shrugged, “We’re going to lure it somewhere secluded and kick it’s ass- you know like last time,” he answered nonchalantly, “You’re here because for some reason you’re really good at gameplans…”

“Yeah, so like last time eh? Set up a trap? I’m not going to cut myself again like I did with Nance and Jonat-”

“No-no, Dart is attracted by raw meat,” Dustin cut you off, you turned to him.

“Who the hell is Dart?”

Dustin rolled his eyes like you were too slow of a thinker for him, “Dart is his name, (y/n)! But that doesn’t matter- what matters is that he grew, and now it’s roaming free and we have to kill him before he kills, so if the next thing you say isn’t how we are going to do it, then don’t talk at all!” Steve turned to Dustin like he was about to scold him or something.

You glared at the kid.

“First up, don’t talk to me like that you little dweeb, and second- it’s clear we have to get a bunch of meat and make a trail- it’s smart, but not that smart because it’ll follow,” you said, leaning back and digging through your bag, “Then we get gas like last time and-” you flicked the lighter in your hand up, Steve glancing at you through the rearview mirror, “and light it’s ass on fire,”

“And where will we get that much meat?”

“Oh you know we’ll just find it lying around- hey maybe we’ll skin and gut a cow, Dustin! It’ll be a fun experie-”

Dustin was about to clap back at you before Steve told you both to shut the hell up.

“Obviously we have to buy meat, and you-” He pointed Dustin,”Stop talking to her like she’s some kind of idiot, she fought one before, so she knows what the hell she’s doing,”

You crossed your arms all smug.

Dustin just simply turned away, saying something under his breath about ‘she didn’t really fight it’. Steve turned back at you, winking, you offered a smile before looking down at your feet. In a way Dustin was right, you didn’t really fight it, but you did help Nancy and Jonathan plan how to trap it.

You let out a sigh. Just an hour earlier, Steve had showed up at your house, telling you to put on your shoes and jacket because he needed your help. You, of course not wanting to pass up another opportunity to hang out with Steve, agreed. That was before you saw Dustin, looking impatient in the front seat of his car and were told you were going to fight another demogorgon.

You huffed slightly, and rubbed your forehead. You really, really didn’t want to do this, you thought you’d never have to ever see one of those things again.

Keep reading

Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips.  “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.


That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So…”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He… he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh… I-I never knew that. He’s never told me…”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”


Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.” 

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”


The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape. 

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the  mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look…” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” 

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too… I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.


Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before…

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away…

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run…

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you…

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you…

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him. 

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.


Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude…

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude…

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah…

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

anonymous asked:

So apparently, baby ducks can imprint. How what would happen is that one day Derek just walks into Deaton's clinic with about ten baby ducks in his arms, which had been following him around all day since they decided for some reason that he is their mom and refused to let him out of their sight .

Derek totally didn’t name them, but, “I think Patrice has abandonment issues.” 

“Abandonment issues?” Deaton asked, blinking, and then “Patrice?” 

Derek just glared, averting his gaze. Alright, so he had named him. But only because it made them easier to tell apart. “Yes,” he gritted through his teeth, holding out the baby ducks for Deaton to take. “I can’t look after them. So here, you have to take them.” 

Deaton shook his head. “I think you’re doing just fine, Derek,” he said in a way that could either mean ‘fuck off’ or ‘these ducklings are part of some bigger plan that I’m not going to tell you about’ and then walked away. Just like that. 

The bastard.

~

Later that evening, Stiles came home to find Derek….and several ducklings on his bed. 

“Please tell me that’s not the pack,” was the first thing he said, panicked that he wasn’t feeling just as panicked about that scenario as he should be. He wasn’t going to lie and say the thought of Jackson being turned into a baby duck didn’t amuse him. 

Greatly.

“No, it’s not the pack,” Derek answered, rolling his eyes, letting one crawl into his hands. “I think….” he frowned. “I don’t think they have…parents.”

“Oh?” Stiles asked, carefully watching Derek’s face. 

“Yeah, “ Derek nodded, all serious and utterly adorable. “And….I don’t know what to do.”  It was hard to read Derek most of the time, but Stiles thought he was getting better at it and this was definitely Derek speak for: ‘I found these baby animals and now I am scared I’m going to hurt them because I don’t have the best track record. SOS, send help, I am a tragic, brooding, beautiful mess’.

Okay, so maybe not the last part. But Stiles was definitely on to Derek.

Derek looked up at Stiles then, as if reading his thoughts, like Stiles had all the answers to the universe. Usually, Stiles was flattered when Derek came to him for help. Well, not flattered, per se. Smug. Smug was the word he’d use. He liked being smug around Derek, his own personal fucked up foreplay. But right now, something different was tingling in the pit of his stomach. He felt warm, and maybe just a little bit helpless. He wasn’t sure if it was a feeling he necessarily liked. 

“Well, how about we start with a pond?” he suggested, leaning back against his bedroom door, resisting the urge to grab his phone and snap a picture.

“A pond?” Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean, like, build a pond?” He started shaking his head, like the thought terrified him. 

Silly, beautiful wolf.

Stiles shrugged. “Why not? You have the money, don’t you? Plus, I think they like you.” He winked and Derek flushed, right to the tips of his ears. Stiles laughed.

“Come on, sourwolf,” he grinned, shaking his head, picking up his backpack from where he had dumped it on the floor. “Let’s go make us a home.” 

~

“It’s your turn to feed them,” Stiles groaned, turning in Derek’s arms. He swore he could hear the ducks already quacking impatiently. “Please, babe, I’ll do anything if I don’t have to get up right now. I’ll even blow you. Twice. It’s so waaaaaarm.” He stretched, like the lazy cat he was, and smiled all the way down to his toes. 

“Don’t call me ‘babe’,” was the only reply he received.

Stiles groaned again. “Sweetheart?” he tried, instead. “Honey? Chicken pot pie of my life?” 

For that, his Derek Hale shaped cover was snatched away from him. 

“What’s wrong with chicken pot pie???” he yelled, heart broken. Utterly, utterly heart broken. No, betrayed. Derek was mean. 

“Nothing, if you want to stay married to me, noodle.

Stiles grimaced. Okay, they’d work on their pet names for each other outside of sex later. They couldn’t just stick with ‘asshole’ - it was starting to lose its meaning when they fought. 

Shoving a pillow in Derek’s face, because when was that ever not satisfying, Stiles crawled to the side of the bed - and because he had no dignity - rolled out of it. “See if you get any sex when I get back,” he called over his shoulder, grabbing Derek’s boxers on the way out of the door.  

Derek only grinned when Stiles looked back, already falling back to sleep. 

Stiles refused to find it adorable. 

little tattoos part ii

this is part two to little tattoos! 

you can read part one here

thank you guys sososoosos much for all the love on this fic. it was tbh a shower thought that evolved into so much more. im so very proud of this fic and i plaN to write another part, maybe two.

so YEAH 

thank you guys so much. it makes me so happy to see that people like my writing. i hope you all enjoy part two of little tattoos <3

summary: a soulmate au where everyone has a tattoo exactly like their soulmate

pairing: eddie and richie

words:  2085


Eddie sighed, approaching his house. He really wasn’t in the mood to convince his mom to let him go to Bill’s. He had gone over there seemingly a thousand times over the course of the past three years, but he still had to argue with his mother for at least twenty minutes before she’d let him leave.

His mom still, daily, tried to convince him that he did indeed have an illness; but he knew better.

Eddie’s mother nearly pounced on him when he opened the front door. “Eddie dear, come on, take your pills! You need them!” She said, so shrill it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him.

He shook his head and got out of her grip easily, backing away and up the stairs. Eddie ignored his mother’s pleas until he shut his bedroom door and couldn’t hear her anymore. The small boy threw his backpack on his bed and threw his jacket into his closet, not bothering to hang it up. Eddie pushed back the door of his closet, finding a reflection of himself staring back. He frowned a little, looking his small figure up and down disapprovingly. Eddie bit his lip, slowly pulling his shirt up and over his head. His eyes scoured every millimeter of his bare chest and back. He thought that maybe one day the universe would decide to give him a tattoo, a soulmate, but there was never anything.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing on his body, and he hated it.

Why him? Why did he have to have no soulmate? It’s not fair.

Eddie angrily slammed the door shut completely, causing the mirror to fall off the door. It hit the wood floor of his bedroom and shattered into millions of tiny pieces.

“Oh God, oh fuck” He grumbled, going out into the hall closet to grab a broom and dustpan. He cleaned up what he could, which was most of it, praying his mother hadn’t heard anything. If she did, he’d be in the ER before he could even protest or explain what had happened. He went to pick up the last piece and as he stood up to put it in the trash, he clumsily dropped it. Eddie hissed at the sharp pain that went through his hand. A small gash started to bleed on his right knuckle, right under a circular, blotchy birthmark. He swore quietly to himself, going to the bathroom and easily disinfecting the cut. He put a small piece of gauze and a bandage on it, deciding that was alright for now.

Eddie grabbed his shirt and threw it over his head, heading down the stairs quickly. His mother sat in her usual spot in front of the TV. She glanced up and upon seeing her son, she tried to get up as quickly as a woman like her could. By the time she got up and ran out onto the porch, he was gone. Eddie was too fast. He was already outside and on his bike, half a block away. After years of evading her, he learned to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

He arrived at Bill’s about five minutes later, hopping off his bike and propping it up against the side of the house. Eddie strode up to the door and knocked, waiting patiently. Stan answered the door, looking disheveled. His hair was a mess. It was usually a mess, but not like this. His lips were a bit puffy and red.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Glad to know I’ll be the cockblock this evening.” He joked, walking inside the house and kicking off his shoes near Bill’s bedroom door.

Bill chuckled a bit, and Stan shot Eddie a look. Eddie smiled innocently, walking in and sitting down on a beanbag on the floor.

“Eddie!” Georgie yelled, nearly tackling the small boy off the beanbag in a hug. Bill’s little brother was the sweetest kid, and Eddie loved him. The whole Loser’s Club loved him.

“Hey, Georgie! How are you, buddy?” He asked, Georgie, sitting down next to him.

“I’m good! What about you?” Georgie asked brightly.

Eddie nodded. “I’m good,” he said casually.

Georgie looked at Bill and Stan across the room, both of them deep into a conversation about what movie to watch. He glanced at Eddie before giggling. “Billy and Stan think you like Richie.”

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped. Was it that obvious?

He raised an eyebrow, looking at the little boy. “Why do they think that?”

Georgie giggled again and whispered, “It’s a secret.” before running out of the room, still giggling.

Bill and Stan decided on Buffy the Vampire Slayer after about five solid minutes of arguing. They popped the VHS tape and started to watch. About halfway through, Eddie noticed that Bill kept sneaking glances at him. He turned his head and saw Bill looking at him once again. “Is something wrong?” He asked, reaching over and pausing the movie with the remote. Stan looked at Bill and nodded, clearly knowing something Eddie didn’t.

“We know you like Richie.” Stan deadpanned, and Bill smacked his arm.

Eddie frowned. “I do not like Trashmouth! Plus, even if I did, which I don’t, he has a soulmate. It wouldn’t work.”

Bill shook his head. “Y-You don’t know that, E-E-Eddie.”

Eddie stood up. “Yes, I do! I’ve had a crush on that damn boy for years! I know I have no soulmate, I know I have no chance, and I want to stop talking about him so I can get over him.”

Stan looked at Bill. “Told you he’d crack.”

Eddie sighed, sitting back down on the beanbag. He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out air through his nose slowly.

“Y-Y-Y-You should tell him,” Bill stated, glancing at Eddie, who immediately shook his head.

“There is no way in hell I am telling him. Nu uh, no.” Eddie said, shaking his head again.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Just tell him, Eddie! You never know.”

After ten minutes of debate, Eddie finally gave in. He walked into school the next day absolutely petrified. Bill and Stan had convinced him to confess his feelings to Richie and he said he’d do it today. But now that he was actually at school, he couldn’t do it. He found himself reaching for his invisible fanny pack for his inhaler until he realized he didn’t need it.

Eddie walked up to his locker, entering the combo and getting his books out. He felt an arm fall around his shoulder.

“Hey, Eds!” Richie said brightly, pinching his cheek. Eddie slapped his hand off and shoved his arm off of his frame. The smile slipped off Richie’s face, but he managed to keep a small one. “What’s wrong, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Stop calling me that,” Eddie grumbled, shutting his locker and turning the combination lock to 0.

Richie followed behind Eddie as he walked off, watching as he strode into his English class without a goodbye, and Richie couldn’t understand why Eddie was so upset. He never intended to upset him, if he did, but half the time Richie didn’t even realize he upset anyone.

The rest of that day, Eddie tried his best to avoid Richie. He took different routes to his classes in the hallways, he ate in the library at lunch, and the only place he couldn’t avoid Richie in was gym class. The gym teacher was very adamant about changing into gym clothes and then changing back into the clothes you were wearing. Eddie hated it, especially today, but he did it anyway. He waited until no one was in the locker room, or he thought no one was in the locker room to change back into his normal clothing. He avoided Richie during their class-wide game of soccer and he thought he was home free; he wasn’t.

The locker room door slammed shut and momentarily, Eddie panicked, thinking it was the Bower’s gang. But he panicked even more with the realization that Richie had shut the door.

“Richie, please-”

“No, Eds! I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what I did.” Richie said sternly as if he was scolding him.

“You didn’t do anything, Richie, let me leave, please.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

Eddie shook his head, trying to get past Richie. He repeated his question but Eddie still shook his head.

Richie was getting annoyed. “If it’s not me, then what the fuck was it? Did Henry do something? Did your mom do something? Other than me last night, of course.”

Eddie tried to get past Richie again and he got pushed back.

Eddie groaned in annoyance. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled, wringing his hands together in a vain attempt to calm himself down.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t!” Eddie argued, gripping his hands together tightly. His knuckles were turning white. “I can’t!”

Richie was getting mad too. “Yes, you fucking can!”

“Goddammit, I’m in love with you, Richie!” Eddie hissed, feeling his hands start to shake from anger and fear and everything in between. “I’m so in love with you, but guess what? You have a soulmate, I don’t, and I don’t need to intentionally break my own heart!” Eddie ran out past a shell-shocked Richie, knocking into him with his shoulder on the way out. Richie didn’t move a muscle. His eyes were watering and he tried to wipe the water away as quick as he could, but they soon became to be too many tears. Eddie was sobbing. His chest hurt in a way he could never describe. It felt like his heart had literally broken. His chest physically hurt as he collapsed on the pavement outside the school. He grabbed the light blue inhaler that was in his back pocket and took two puffs. His breathing was normal, but he knew he had to leave. Eddie got on his bike and rode home.

Eddie went inside the back door, trying to be as quiet as possible so he could sneak up to his room. He turned the corner and dashed up the stairs, closing his door and propping a chair up under the door handle. He didn’t wanna deal with his mother right now, or anytime at all for that matter. He fell back onto his bed, sighing. Eddie held his hand over his head, studying the cut he got from the broken mirror. It was healing properly and wasn’t infected.

After about thirty minutes of off and on crying, Eddie heard an inconsistent tapping on his window. He tried to ignore it but after five minutes of it, he had had enough. He opened the window with force, just to get hit in the cheek with a small pebble. Eddie narrowed his eyes at Richie, who said “sorry” and put down the few rocks he had in his hand. “Listen, Eds-”

“Leave me alone, Richie. I don’t want your sympathy, I don’t want your pity, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“Just hear me ou-”

“No! I will not hear you out! You’ll climb up here, say you’re sorry and that you don’t feel the same way and that you want to stay friends. I won’t do that. I won’t. Leave me the fuck alone.” Eddie stated, slamming his window shut and drawing the navy blue curtains. The tapping stopped, and he hoped Richie walked away. He laid back down on his bed, glancing over at the wall beside him. Polaroids of him and Richie scattered the wall, along with pictures of the rest of the Loser’s club from a campfire last summer.

“Richie, don’t be an idiot! You are going to burn yourself!” Eddie scolded, getting up to shove him backward away from the fire.

“I’m not an idiot, Eds, I’m a genius in disguise.” Richie retorted, plopping back down onto the grass beside Eddie.

Beverly had taken a picture at that moment and that was Eddie’s favorite polaroid he had tacked to his wall. To this day, Richie still insisted that he was “a genius in disguise.”

Then Eddie remembered what had happened. He felt his eyes water with tears and his vision blurred as he cried softly, eventually running out of energy and falling asleep, face streaked with tears.

Richie had taken a long way home, trying to clear his head. By the time he got back to his house, he had a plan.

But he needed help from the Losers.


HELLo YEs

thank you so much for reading part two

would y’all like a part three? 

im so down to write it i haVE SO MANY IDEAS

masterlist

request to be on the tag list/talk to me

thank you for reading <3

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Try to get rid of me in an overseas big city? We'll get rid of you instead.

(long story. tl;dr at the end)

Context:

Back in 2011 me and my immediate family traveled to Saudia Arabia for Umrah, or what’s known as the lesser pilgramage. You visit Makkah, make rounds around the Kaabah, pray with all your heart and soul, you get the picture. My dad and I were excited because we were all about going on a spiritual journey and casting away the problems of the world - but as it turns out, some problems just wouldn’t leave us.

As soon as we landed in Jeddah’s airport, our plan was to take a taxi to Makkah and get the Umrah done while we were still gung-ho about God. However, we were instead diverted to our relatives’ house in Jeddah, where we discovered that 4 or 5 of my mothers’ relatives and their families had gathered up and spontaneously crashed in my grandfather’s house for one giant family reunion. Naturally, my dad and I, as well as my maternal grandfather, were really upset over this development as my mom’s side of the family is full of … for the lack of a more polite word, the shady folks. Most of them I was on good terms with, but once I realized that my least favorite Uncle and Aunt had come with the crew, my enthusiasm just deflated like a balloon.

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Babysitter

Summary:  You were visiting home for the weekend to find out that your parents have hired a new babysitter.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung (V) / Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Rated M - under 18 you have been warned :)

MasterlistPart 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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Time After Time

Summary: The five times the universe appeared to be against you when you wanted to ask Steve out.

Word Count: 4,447. (yikes, might want to grab a bowl of popcorn or feed your cat while reading this)

A/N: This is basically a remake of an old Peter Parker fic I wrote a while back, but of course I switched things up and improved it. Thanks to my pals @heaventide & @theassetseyeliner for being my betas. Hope you like! 

Originally posted by kings-of-my-heart


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signs as dumb YA novel clichés

Aries: The Chosen One~ “This wasn’t how my life was supposed to go. When I turned 18, I wasn’t expecting to be thrust into the Underworld. I was gonna go to college, be a normal student and rush Sigma Phi Chiapet my sophomore year. But everything is different now. The prophecy has spoken and I’m going to go through a training montage and become really badass really quickly even though I was against being the chosen one in the first place but now I have a black belt after a month of punching bags of sand and now I’m ready to save the world. And guess what. At the end of the book…………. I save the world.”

Taurus: The “you don’t know think you’re beautiful until a boy tells you so / not like the other girls” average looking protagonist~ “Hi. My name is Tookiewisp Flowerspark. I’ve got mousy brown hair and bright brown eyes. I’m tall and thin and I don’t have boobs yet. I love to wear my worn out high top converse and skinny jeans. Maybe if I wore a dress, boys my age would notice me. But to be honest, I’m just not into girly stuff like most other girls are. You could say I’m different.”

Gemini: Crush throughout the entire novel turns out to be an asshole~ “He’d never notice a girl like me. He doesn’t even know my name!’ *sudden makeover transformation where she takes her hair out of a ponytail and takes off her glasses* Boy: ‘Wow, Winteria Snow. I never realized how pretty you were until you put on makeup and put in some contacts. Will you be my girlfriend?’”

Cancer: Instant love~ “That’s when a saw her, walking down the street. She was coming my way. Her hair blew in the wind like a majestic mane of gold. The way she walked made my heart skip a beat. I started sweating and I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. I stared at her as she walked past and I tried to say hello, but my words came out in a jumble. She gave me a weird look and walked away. It was at that moment that I knew I had fallen in love and found my soulmate. Also, by the end of this book she falls in love with me even though I basically obsessively stalk her throughout the entire novel and have no redeeming qualities.”

Leo: The Queen Bee~ “That’s Brooke Richardsworth. She’s the coolest, most popular girl in school. She’s got long, straight blonde hair and wears pink skirts, pink cardigans and pink headbands. Those are her two slightly less attractive friends, Chelsea and Paige. Brooke is also dating my crush. We used to be friends, but ever since I accidentally spilled my chocolate milk on her back in the third grade, she’s done everything she can to make my life miserable.”

Virgo: Problematic parents~ “My parents recently got divorced, so now on the weekends I hang out with my dad, and during the week I hang out with my mom. It gets pretty tiring going back and forth after a while, but every other Saturday my dad (who is also a professor at a university) takes me camping and we roast hotdogs over a campfire which really makes up for it. Recently though, he’s been hanging around a new young blonde woman named Tamara Blake. He’s been spending all of his time with her. We haven’t even gone camping since they met!”

Libra: The improbable love triangle~ “What am I going to do? I have two boys who just got into a fight at school because they both are in love with me, average annoying weird superiority complex girl. On one hand, there’s Jackson- the brooding bad boy who wears leather jackets and rides motorcycles and treats me like garbage when he’s in a grumpy mood. Then on the other hand, there’s Theodore- the quiet sensitive one who reads books and drinks tea and I always catch him watching me from behind a bookshelf in the library! This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make in my life. I HAVE to choose one of them. But… who?”

Scorpio: The dystopian society~ “Hi, I’m Bland McBore. In our society, the rich and the poor are divided into two groups and all the rich people are evil and live in a city where there are floating vehicles and all the buildings are white marble and/or chrome, and all the poor people live in mud huts and have to eat bugs and also everything is a weird shade of gray to represent sadness or something. I am going to start a revolution and overthrow the government with the help of my two best friends and once we start to cause trouble with our rebellion, the leader who is probably an old white guy with a pointed beard will offer us riches that we originally fought against in the beginning but don’t worry we will heroically reject them and fight for equality and won’t stop until society is no longer divided. Also people will definitely die but it will all only be people we are conveniently close to. Me and my two best friends get to live until the very end because we move the plot forward.”

Sagittarius: Protagonist just moved to a new school~ “My dad got a new job so we had to move across the country. I’m really shy and quiet and dorky so I know that my first day is going to be horrible. The teacher will make me stand up at the front of the class and then I’ll cry because I’ll be thinking about my life in my old town. Then as I sit back down at my desk, the teacher will keep on teaching instead of addressing that one of her students is visibly upset and crying. Then, the boy behind me will tap on my shoulder and introduce himself- this boy will be the guy I keep as my friend until the end of the novel where, plot twist, he ends up being my perfect match all along.”

Capricorn: The Intellectual~ “My favorite past time is to go to this tree up on a hill where my mom is buried that is also conveniently in the middle of the woods but also within a short walking distance from my house. I go there and I just think. Not of a lot of kids from school do that these days. Everyone is so obsessed with the latest gossip or the latest trend that it seems like everyone forgot how to, well, think. Sometimes I wish I was like them. I wish I could turn off my brain and mindlessly walk around without a care in the world. But I can’t because I’m different and smarter than everyone else and I also like to read and I love the smell of old books and reading and did I mention that I also love to read.”

Aquarius: Really weird “quirky” names~ “Hi, I’m Ingridagelica Applewindbalmkettlefish and this is my story. I know, I know, my name is pretty strange. My parents picked it because they said that when I was born they knew I was going to grow up and do something really great and unique and they also said that it means “not like the other girls” when spoken in Latin.” 

Pisces: The “nice guy” guy friend who turns out to be The One all along~ “I just can’t believe my crush won’t notice me! Tell me Carter, what am I doing wrong?” “Nothing, Skylightquia. If it’s worth anything, I think you’re pretty…. uh, pretty awesome, I mean.” *Skylightquia sighs and looks up at the stars from the rooftop they got onto somefuckinghow* “The stars are really beautiful, aren’t they?” *Carter looks at her meaningfully* “Yeah they are”

every road leads to an end

this is for everyone in my inbox who asked for a mike coming out story.

***

Mike’s hands are shaking as he reaches for the phone on the corner of his desk - a hand-me-down he’d nabbed from Nancy’s room when she’d packed all of her things and headed off to college two summers ago. He nearly knocks the entire thing to the floor in his haste to grab it.

“Get a grip, Wheeler,” he mumbles out loud to himself, but he can’t quite stop the tremor from coursing through him - it’s the adrenaline, maybe. Probably not fear. Definitely anger.

Mike shakes his head and pulls out a piece of crumpled paper from his desk drawer, taking his time to punch the neatly-written numbers into the keypad on the phone. It rings once, twice, three times.

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swipe right [smut]

A;N: Things and people you meet are not always what they seem. 

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content.

Word count: .9,612

Listen to me.

Originally posted by stilinskisvoid

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Angel in the Darkness (M) pt.4

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5



“You’re a mistake! You should have never even been born!” the group of nine-year old’s like yourself, taunted you.

You were mindlessly walking outside during recess, until a group of kids from your class cornered you. They formed a circle around you, deciding to remind you of what kind of blasphemy you were.

“Just leave me alone!” you screeched back at them, just wanting to distance yourself. You tried to leave, but there was no escape, as they would just push you back into the middle of the circle.

“Where are you going you little bitch?” a boy who was a bit taller than you mocks.

When you glare at him to try to push past, he shoves you roughly back, making you fall on the cold cement. You cringe when you skid against the ground, layers of skin from your elbows and hands being ripped off.

Each of them laugh at you, as you just sit still on the ground, not daring to look up at them. Why did this always have to happen to you?

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