for maybe a year or however long

Either/Or: Single

Kara has a kid and meets Lena? Super or nah doesn’t matter.

“Five minutes, Jess,” Lena reminded her assistant as the car stopped at a red light. “Just five minutes, and then I’m going to finish unpacking.”

To her credit, she didn’t even look up from her tablet as her boss made the same insistence she’d made twelve times since they’d left the new offices. Jess was familiar with Lena’s rants and opinions and utter dislike of anything social, despite her best efforts to help break the youngest Luthor from her shell.

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(K)Langst where Lance dies. He literally dies, and not in a heroic last stand. He dies needlessly, without purpose. Maybe he was kidnapped and killed by bounty hunters. Maybe he dies in a free accident. Maybe he gets sick. However he goes, the team is left devastated. Blue is devastated. Keith is devastated. 

It’s only when he’s gone do the team realize how much life Lance had provided the team. How his silly and playful attitude empowered them, gave them the sense of hope they needed to keep moving forward. It takes a long time for them to pick up the pieces, for Blue to open herself up to a new Paladin (Allura), but they never manage to put themselves back together completely. 

Skip three years after Lance’s death, when one day Blue starts going all fidgety. She stops communicating with Allura (not that they ever had the strongest bond in the first place). Then she just hightails it out of the Castle, flying to some random planet. 

Blue comes back later that day, but she’s not alone. Climbing out of Blue, looking incredibly confused and exactly as he did three years ago, is Lance. Lance, who smiles at them with the biggest smile before demanding to know what’s going on. And why are they pointing their weapons at him, seriously guys, what the quiznack?! 

Faced with this stranger (because it can’t be Lance, they buried his corpse back on Earth), they lock him in the cellar in a whirl of chaotic emotions. Keith in particular is enraged that someone would impersonate Lance, pretend to be him. The team debates over what to do with this impersonator. Keith half-sarcastically suggests throwing him out the airlock. 

That night, Hunk can’t help but go down to see this Lance impersonator. He sensed something about him, something so so familiar. Lance is overjoyed to see him, if a little miffed because he doesn’t understand what’s going on. He insists that it’s him, it’s Lance, and Hunk, despite himself, wants to believe it’s him. He asks Lance questions, personal stuff only Lance could possibly know. And Lance answers all of his questions. He tells Hunk all about his family, his older sister and brother, his little brother and sister, his mother, his father. He talks about the Garrison, talks about secrets Hunk had only ever told Lance.  

By the end of their talk, Hunk is convinced. Somehow, someway, this is Lance. A DNA test later reconfirms his genetic identity when compared to an older DNA sample of Lance. And with Blue’s behavior, there is no other explanation. It’s Lance, back from the dead. A Lance who doesn’t know he died in the first place. 

Hunk and Coran are overjoyed. Allura and Shiro are more cautiously happy. Pidge is obsessed with finding out how this even happened. Keith alternates between being obsessively overprotective and hovering and avoiding Lance. He’s not sure how to process this. It took him a long, long time for him to sort of bury his feelings regarding Lance’s death, and his revival brings all of that back to the surface. He never actually coped/accepted/healed from it, and seeing Lance again, it brings all of his grief back to the surface, and he’s so angry at himself because why is he sad when his friend has come back? Why is so scared to talk to Lance? 

It’s Lance who comforts him, who gets him to face those feelings, who helps him cope with what happened all those years ago.   

Lance, meanwhile, tries to adjust to his friends being years older than the last time he saw them. Tries to adjust to how everyone is staring at him, as if he’s a ghost who could disappear any minute. To how much time he’s missed, the adventures the team had without him. It’s hard. It’s hard for everyone. The pieces the team managed to put back together fall into shambles once again. But little by little, all of them together, they reassemble, stronger than ever. 

@spirit-gem @thetwilightroadtonightfall

Old Dog, New Tricks: Part Three

Part One II Part Two

Summary: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were known to be your soldiers across the hall. Whenever you needed them, they were there. It never crossed your mind that one day, after coming to terms with just how inexperienced Bucky was with getting back in the groove of romance - you find yourself now helping him in a way you never expected. Sex.

Word Count: 2,471

Notes: Cursing, Explicit Content, 18+ (smut) 

Let me know what you thiiiiinkkkkkkk 

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it doesn’t take forever

A/N: I wanted to write a little blurb about Eggsy Unwin because THAT MAN but it basically ended up being a plotless 1,108 word dissertation written simply for fun (and to fulfll my dreams). Hope somebody enjoys and sorry for any typos! 

Small plot synopsis: Eggsy asks the reader, who’s his best friend, to move in with him because they’re soooort of like a couple, right? There’s just a lot of waffle before that. I’m sorry…

Pairing: Eggsy x reader

Words: 1,108

Warning: a teeeeny bit of cussing… :o 

Originally posted by danniejgrayson

What looks like an Italian Renaissance painting catches your attention and you do a bad job of suppressing your amusement at the idea of your best mate owning such a fancy thing. Eggsy, who’s in the kitchen making drinks, obviously hears you laugh because he asks what’s funny, looking slightly defensive as he stands in the doorway.

“Nothing,” you tell him innocently. When he looks unconvinced, you gesture around casually. “It’s all just very… fancy.”

“I suppose,” he muses, glancing around the living room.

“You suppose?” you gape. “I’ve seen worse hotels! I’m scared to sit down in case my jeans mark the couch!”

He rolls his eyes, re-entering the kitchen as he accuses, “you’re bein’ ridiculous,” over his shoulder.

“I’m not, Eggsy!” you deny, pulling a face when he appears again, this time holding two glasses of amber liquid. “I hope that’s Red Bull.”

This draws a laugh from him and even you grin thinly as you join him on the sofa, Eggsy shooting you a pointed look when you initially teeter on the edge.

“Don’t be a wally,” he says, tugging on your arm until you’re nestled in the cushions alongside him. Your face grows warm as his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulders.  

“Who did you say left you this house? A distant uncle?”

He shakes his head. “A colleague of my dad’s. I heard they were close.” His expression turns sullen suddenly, like he’s mourning an old friend.

You take one of the drinks and hold it aloft. “Well, whoever he was and wherever he is now, may he continue to sip the strongest whisky as he sits among kings on a gold throne in a fancy arse suit.”

He smiles and clinks his glass with yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

You both neck your liquid comfort, you humming in surprise when you realise it’s lager.

“Y’know, it’s a pretty big place,” he says, his pensive tone suggesting he’s thinking out loud. “Here by ‘imself… a bloke could get lonely.” He deliberately avoids your eyes, focusing on his index finger as it traces the brim of his glass. The implication his words carry isn’t lost on you but his sudden reticence is out of character.

You and Eggsy have been friends for years, and you’ve never really known him to be anything but poised, a bit wicked and, at times, maybe a bit of an exhibitionist. Even after nasty run-ins with his stepdad he always seems to have little trouble picking himself back up again. His inability to let things affect him for too long is something you’ve always admired about him. That and how unwaveringly loyal he is to those he loves.

Now, however, he seems unsure; almost timid.

“You’ll never be alone,” you insist, keeping your face stony when he turns to you. “You’ll always have JB.”

Eggsy tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth, looking over toward the corner of the room where his pug is laying in his own plush bed, spread flat on his back, tiny legs twitching while he dreams.

“The world’s deadliest beast,” he derides, shaking his head fondly. “Daft as shit.”

Your chest does its annoying little habit of compressing when Eggsy’s free hand finds yours in your lap and starts fiddling with your fingers. You peek sideways at him, and, as you expect, he still seems too absorbed in the sight of JB to notice he’s doing it.

What may be a surprising fact about Eggsy is just how tactile he can be, even if it is a subconscious trait. There have been numerous 24 marathons you can recall where your interest in the show’s story shot straight out the window as soon as Eggsy took it upon himself to rest his hand on your knee or idly play with your hair.

You’re sorry to admit you have no complaints about this. In fact, maybe that’s the problem. His supposed proclivity for needing to touch you somehow has – inevitably, you suppose – completely changed how you see him.

“What d’you reckon then?”

“About what?” You blink, pulling yourself from your reverie.

“Movin’ in with me,” he proposes simply.

You choke out a laugh. “You want me to live with you? I mean, you want to live with me? Together? Here?”

“S’what I said, wasn’t it?” He laughs, but you’re struggling to see the joke.

“Yeah – but – it’s kind of…”

He waits patiently for you to finish but increasingly looks disheartened the longer you’re silent.

You inhale deeply, more so to gather courage than anything. “It’s what couples do, Eggsy.”

His brow furrows as he mulls this over. “We’re practically a couple though, aren’t we?”

“We are?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs blithely. “We do everything together. You’re the person I spend most of my time with cause, I realised recently, you’re the person I wanna spend all my time with. We always go to the cinema and the pub and there’s no one in the world I trust more.”

You grin, unable to pass up an opportunity to tease him. “And in your eyes going to the pub automatically makes us ‘official’?”

“You really going to focus on that part and ignore the much more romantic shit I said?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, taking it all in. “I didn’t know you felt like this—”

“It’s been on my mind for a few weeks,” he admits with a nod, “since I was told by a certain someone that you’ve fancied me since Year 9. At first I was like, ‘no way’ and told them to fuck off and stop making up stories. But eventually I came around, saw what everyone else saw.”

“And what’s that?” You wonder warily, slightly horrified to be hearing all this.

He wriggles his eyebrows. “The way you look at me.”

You flatten your palm against his face, gently shoving him away and granting yourself a moment to think of a clever response. That plan backfires however when he snatches your hand and pulls you closer.

“So what d’you say?” The grin on his face is complacent and you hate it as much as you love it. “Wanna be roomies?”

You can smell his aftershave (is he inching closer?) and you think of how humiliating it is that he’s known for weeks about your eight year old crush on him (he’s definitely getting closer) and you’re not sure how exactly you can laugh your way out of this one when you catch his eyes flicking down to your mouth.

Panicking, you say, “There’s a stuffed dog in your loo.”

Eggsy laughs and kisses you finally.


Pairing: Peter parker x reader 


word count: 2953

Hope you guys enjoy!


Originally posted by buckybarnres

3 months. You had been in a lovely relationship with your boyfriend for about 3 months, and everything seemed kinda perfect. Maybe to perfect to be true. Your boyfriend Mark had always treated you nicely, however the past weeks he had been cold and distant with you.

Despite all the things you had tried he seemed to be lost in his own world. He kept canceling dates and ignoring your calls, you could tell he was growing more distant with each passing day, however you had one last idea that might bring your boyfriend’s attention back to you.

You were supposed to meet your best friend Peter at his place. You wanted to talk about it with him. He would help you out right? After all, he was a man, he had to know what was going on with Mark.

Peter and you had been best friends since you could remember. His apartment was just above yours, and since you both attended the same school it wasn’t long after you called each other best friend.

People always used to insist that you and Peter were the perfect couple, and for a little while during your freshman year you actually believed it, however he never tried to make a move on you.

You remembered all that time you wished he would see you as something more than a friend with some nostalgia. When everybody started mentioning what a good couple you would both make, Peter had immediately shut those people down. After a while you just realised that maybe you were better being just friends. A little part of you would always wonder what being Peter’s girlfriend would feel like, but right now you had a lovely boyfriend, even if he hadn’t really been present lately.

You got into his apartment without even knocking, knowing Aunt May wasn’t even around, you loved her, but it was definitely better this way; you didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience.

You went straight to Peter’s room, sitting in his bed right across him. He gave you a quick glance and a smile before returning to his homework.

“Hey Y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you at school today”

"Yeah well, I skipped it, I needed time to think about something”.

This time the boy left his duties aside, giving you his complete attention.

“Is everything okay at home?”

God you loved this boy! He always cared for you and made sure you were okay.

“Yeah  Yeah of course! But is something else- something with- you know, Mark” you finally said as you looked at the boy. You didn’t want to annoy him with your girl talk, but you didn’t knew who else to turn to.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The boy didn’t love the idea of you and Mark, however he didn’t opposed to it. If it made you happy he was happy as well.

“ It’s just that- he has been really distant with me lately, canceling dates and I’m pretty sure he is lying to me! Can you believe it? But anyways- I think I may have a solution, but-well I don’t know for sure”

“Well dummy, you can always tell me! I can tell you if it’s a bad idea”

A blush spread through your cheeks, making your whole face heat up . You could not believe you were about to tell this to your best friend and former crush.

“Well I’ve been thinking that- well- I think- I think I might do it with him”

You couldn’t even look Peter in the eye after what you had just said. Why did you think it was a good idea?

“Do what?”

“You know-the thing!”

She felt the embarrassment filling her up once again. If she couldn’t even say the word sex how was she planning on actually doing it?

“I will have sex with Mark”

For a couple of second everything was completely quiet as you waited for his reaction.

Finally Peter got out of his trance and his eyes grew considerably while a scarlet color adorned his whole face. He could not believe what you just had told him.

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would you even do that?!”

The boy seemed confused and hurt. He had said those words with a voice tone that would have made you believe Peter was jealous, however you knew better than that. Peter was probably just trying to protect you.

“Peter is not a big deal! Were both 18!”

“So? Being 18 doesn’t mean you have to go and get rid of your v card immediately!”

“Peter I honestly don’t know why are you so upset! I didn’t threw a big fuss over how you lost it to Liz Allen last year!”

Both teenagers had started yelling at this point. They couldn’t believe the other was being so stubborn about the topic.

“But I did it because I wanted to! Not just to get the attention of a douche boy back!”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me Peter?”

“You shouldn’t feel the need to have sex with Mark in order to win him back! If he loved you he wouldn’t lie or ignore you!”

“Of course he loves me! We just need this to make our relationship stronger”

He doesn’t love you! He doesn’t love you half as much as I do, the boy thought to himself. “ When you give him what he wants he will dump you Y/n!”

“How dare you? Mark would never!”

You started pacing around the room before looking once again at Peter.

“You know what- forget it, I don’t know why I came here, I guess I was counting on my best friend, but now I know you don’t care”

Just as you were heading towards the door Peter grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving and pulled you close to his chest hugging you. This was a situation you had found yourself many times in, immediately hiding you face in the crock of his neck. He hold you as he started whispering.

“Of course I care dummy! And because I care I’m trying to warn you, I don’t want you to get hurt, or do something you don’t feel prepared for”

This had left you speechless. You had asked yourself this question many times. Were you ready? For many people sex was just an ordinary activity, however you didn’t want to waste what you felt was your one chance to have the perfect first time. Will Mark be gentle on you? Or would he just want to do it fast and rough? You didn’t knew if you were prepared for that yet.

You hadn’t even noticed but at some point you had started to cry, damping Peter’s t-shirt and hugged him stronger. Peter was rubbing his hand in your back, holding you, when he put his hand on your face, holding your chin so he could see you in the eye.

“I don’t ever wanna see you crying for some boy okay?”

With his other hand he cleaned away the tears from your cheeks. As he did so you realised how close you two were. From this position you could count the lashes in Peter’s eyes, those brown eyes you had found yourself getting lost in, those same eyes which were now staring at you. Peter seemed to realise the distance between you two as well as he looked at your lips and once again at your eyes. You could feel you two getting even closer and a part of you wanted to stop while the other wanted to continue even further. Your lips were about to brush together, but you could tell Peter was still waiting for your approval.

You couldn’t do this! The rational part of you pulled away right before you could kiss the boy. Oh God! We’re you actually going to kiss Peter Parker? As you glanced at the boy you could see the confusion in his eyes.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

“Peter- I just- I don’t- Peter you know I have a boyfriend! God, I came to talk to you about him!”

“He doesn’t deserve you Y/n! He never will!”

“Let me make those choices”

With this final decision you stormed out the room, more than ready to make yours and Mark’s relationship work.

Peter was left alone, watching as you leaved his room and probably his life as well. Not only was he losing you but now he knew what you planned on giving to Mark.

He felt devastated, angry at that stupid  asshole  who couldn’t appreciate what he had right in front of his eyes, but mostly heartbroken, because even with all of that you had chosen him over Peter.    He felt his eyes itching, with tears beginning to form in his eyes. He felt his blood boiling under his skin and started gripping his hands into fists, refusing to let the tears roll down.

Before he realised he was punching his bed and pillows, trying to get all his frustration out. He needed some spidey action to get you and everything out of his minds. The boy quickly changed into his suit and leaved the apartment, anxious to punch somebody in the face.

However the boy was in no luck. Today of all days seemed to be the quietest and calmest of the whole year. He hadn’t witnessed any robberies or attacks and all his energy was starting to build up inside him.

He decided to swing from budding to building trying to get some of the energy out, and without even realizing he suddenly found himself right outside Mark’s house. He hadn’t even noticed he had made his way there, but now that he was he couldn’t bring himself to go back to his own place.

He couldn’t go face Mark like he wanted to, after all he was still wearing the suit, but just as he was preparing to go back, he saw from the coroner of his eye as Mark entered the building with a girl in his arms. Peter realised he was too late. You were already in Mark’s home and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He knew it was none of his business, but still he climbed the wall up to the window in Mark’s room. Even from the outside he could listen to the couple’s voices as they laughed together.

Peter was just a coward. He had been so afraid of ruining your friendship with his feelings for you  that he had settled with just being friends. But he wanted so much more. He wanted to take your hand and kiss you. He wanted to hold you close all day and all night. He wanted to call you mine and do all the things you were probably about to let Mark do to you.

The boy had been so lost in his own thoughts he had barely noticed that the silence that surrounded him was now filled with other sounds he rather not hear.

Even from the outside he could hear the gasps and moans that filled the room.He could not bear to listen anymore as you asked Mark to touch you more and go further.

Just as he was giving up on spying he heard a name that was clearly not yours.

“Stacy, you treat me so good”

Unless Peter was going crazy that was definitely not your name. More moaning from Mark was heard, and even though he wanted to leave so desperately he also needed to know what was happening.

“Y/n would never be this good”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Mark had a girl up in his room doing things that were definitely not friendly. That jerk was cheating on you! Peter had to tell you as soon as possible! He could not let that idiot hurt you that way!

Whether you loved Peter or not he still had to warn you. He decided going to his place to change clothes and finding you was the best option. The boy swung from the buildings as quickly as he could, arriving to his  place at a record time.

He got changed into some jeans and t-shirt, taking his keys and making his way to the apartment’s door. He got to hurry if he wanted to reach you in time to stop you. He opened the door ready to leave, however the boy was surprised when you were already in the entry, about to knock on the door.

Both teenagers stared at each other with surprise in their faces. Peter did not expect you to be here, he thought you were probably on your way to Mark’s. The boy took a long look at Y/n, you looked apparently the same, however he could see how puffy and red your eyes were.

You realised Peter had noticed how you’ve been crying before. You probably looked like hell.  You lowered your gaze trying to hide your face a little and straighten your hair.

“What are y-”

“You were right”

Peter had tried to talk but you interrupted him.

“About what?”

“Mark he- he was- he was with-”

You tried to explain. Explain how you had gone to Mark’s hoping to surprise him only to find him snogging some other girls face. he didn’t even look remotely sorry. You wanted to tell Peter how you had broken up and how sorry you were about you attitude to him.

But all those words were caught up in your throat. Your voice was trembling and you couldn’t form any sentences. You were to afraid that Peter will kick you out and never forgive you. As you looked into those brown eyes you found yourself unable to talk at all, and your eyes picking and filling with tears as you realised Peter had only tried to protect you.

Words were not needed between the both of you. Peter stepped closer to you, holding you near his chest and letting you cry, the same way he had done those hours ago. He didn’t need to tell you anything and neither did you.

Once again you found yourself between those arms.  Everything felt so in place, so perfect. Not even once you had felt that way between Mark’s arms. He guided you towards his couch, still holding you close.

“I’m so sorry Peter I- thank you, you know for everything”

“ Shhhh- don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you”

You pulled apart once again. You knew he wouldn’t approach you anymore, as he was just rejected a couple hours ago, but still something pulled you towards him, grabbing his face between your hands. You stroke his cheek as your thumb move to his mouth. Peter’s eyes grew at the sight of you watching his own lips.

“If this is you trying to apologize you don’t have-”

You cut Peter off by finally brushing your lips to his joining in a small kiss. You pulled apart only to move closer to him in his couch, kissing him once again.

“This is me apologizing, for not telling you, how I’ve really feel about you for all this years”.

Peter finally gave in grabbing your waist and pushing your body towards the armrest, with him above you.His hand stopped cupping your face and moved towards you legs, pushing them slightly open to place himself between them.

You felt yourself breathing a little heavier. You wanted to pull apart to catch your breath, however you needed to be close to Peter more. You continued kissing him and biting into his lips, trying to deepen more the kiss. Peter couldn’t stop the moaning that came out from his mouth as you moved your hand under his shirt, stroking his stomach with your cold hands. He could feel your smirk under your kissing, so he pulled apart. Instead he chose to bite and suck on your neck, leaving small love bites.

“You know how mad it made me? Knowing he would be touching and doing all the things I want to do to you?”

His words distracted your hands from their touching, while Peter hold the above your head.

“I don’t want him to touch you, or kiss you- Hell, I don’t even want him to look at you”

You could not stop the little whimpers from coming out. Listening to Peter talk to you that way made you feel all warm inside.

He continued to kiss on your collarbone, sliding his hand towards your waist once again. This time you placed your hands on his back, pulling him closer. He brought his face close to you, this time looking straight into your eyes.

“I love you more than anything”

“I love you too, Peter”

And you really meant it. After all this years your feeling for him had only grew stronger. Now you knew that all those kisses with Mark didn’t really meant anything, because he wasn’t Peter.

“You’ll never have to do that with me. I’ll always wait for you darling”

With this final words Peter brought your head to his chest and reclined both of you on the couch, cuddling you. He gave you a forehead kiss and while you stared in his big brown eyes you realised that was the place you felt the safest at. Beside the boy you had and will always love, Peter.

“It’s them, but it’s not them !” 2/2 -Bruce Wayne x Reader

@m-fairbank also asked the same thing, things happening on Batmom’s point of you, and also some of the batboys…and I kinda planned something like that anyway. So here’s a sequel for “It’s her but it’s not her”, and I hope you’ll like it (and hope the “mixed feelings” were still good ones ;-)) AGAIN felt like I could write something better, might re-write everything…I rushed a bit writing it cause I’m in L.A but I also wanted to write something and…I guess it’s this kind of time eh. 

Summary : Batman and his kids accidentally got send in an alternate dimension, and Batmom has the displeasure of realizing that her Bruce from this other world is…not hers at all. 

(My masterlist blog here :

PART 1 !


When your husband and kids came home with Diana and Clark, you didn’t think too much of it. It wasn’t unusual for your friends to come over to the bat cave and work, or even just chill. 

But when you went to kiss Bruce, and you felt him stiffen under your touch. When he didn’t kiss back, and even moved away, his head moving back and forth between you and Clark, stunned. When your sons stared at you with wide eyes and open mouthes…you realized something was wrong. 

-Wh…what is it ? 

Bruce didn’t say anything, he found he couldn’t say anything. The Hell just happened ? Clark’s wife just kissed him ! And…What was she doing in the bat cave anyway, at this hour ? 

Under your husband’s gaze, you felt uncomfortable for the first time in your life. Usually, he had the opposite effect on you, you were always so relaxed around him. Even during charity balls or such obligations you had as Waynes, when your introverted self felt awful, his mere presence calmed you down and helped you get threw the night. 

But right now, the way he was looking at you made you shiver. You didn’t recognize his usual look…In his eyes right now, there were no love, no relief to see you well and alive, no joy, no slight impatience to finally get to bed with you. Instead, there was confusion, embarrassment, and a slight touch of curiosity maybe ? 

And your children…None of them rushed to hug you first, or to tell you who’s ass they kicked this time. 

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. 

Keep reading


Kikyo vocalized it way before Inuyasha did – god-freaking-dammit Inuyasha, it only took you well over 100 episodes to SAY it. Kikyo immediately realized Kagome’s done more for Inuyasha in their short time than Kikyo did 50 years ago.

Do you know how long we the InuKag fans waited for this very moment?!

BUT WAIT! Kikyo says she could’ve been the one to change Inuyasha. However, had Kikyo lived she would’ve made the incorrect wish – even if Inuyasha became human the Jewel would still be doing everything in its power to exist.

The manga and anime differ slightly on the final battle, but either way Human Inu would’ve been screeeewed (if he really could’ve been turned human).

The Jewel actually is the final boss, so…

Kikyo and Inuyasha were bound for tragedy, it seems. Hell, maybe the Jewel’s demon would’ve forced a “Kaguya’s mirror” situation, or pitted Inuyasha against Kikyo for all eternity inside the Jewel instead of Naraku against Kagome…which would’ve prevented Kagome’s birth!

No, not my beautiful dog boy!

Did Naraku seriously alter fate like Bilbo did when he picked up the ring, forcing the ring Jewel to improvise and have Kagome bring back the ring, uh I mean Jewel to the Feudal Era?

…uh…thanks, Naraku? I guess?

Wait, no, not “thanks, Naraku,” he forced Inuyasha to deal with one hell of an emotional whiplash. Within a span of 24 hours (from Inuyasha’s POV), his first love betrayed him, died, and then he was collared by someone that looked like her.

Oh, that look of betrayal…

And then he finds out the truth about Naraku’s plot. “Time heals all wounds”? He barely had any time to mourn! Why not mess with his sense of loyalty while we’re at it? You know dogs and their loyalty.

Thank you for your input, Shippo.

BTW, let’s not forget how the anime took out/altered several sweet InuKag moments and made Inuyasha act less sensitive! What the heck? The animators made anime-Inuyasha less thoughtful than manga-Inuyasha.

Thanks a lot, Sunrise! (sarcasm level: high)

One hell of a way to state your love…theeeen they’re promptly separated for 3 years.

At least the anime left in his declaration that he was born for Ka-go-me and no one else! Otherwise, he and Kagome wouldn’t be so cool with her wearing those Miko clothes.

Seriously though, I want a reboot…or a continuation.

Mad Science

Finally, it was done. 8 years of research, months of preparation, and a menagerie of deceased mice, but at last he held in his hand the formula that he had sought for most of his adult life. Dr. Walker felt an incredible excitement building within him as he inspected the tiny vial. He was so close to realizing his dream that he could almost taste it, taking all his willpower to stop himself from downing the vial’s contents right then and there. No, mad scientist he may be, however he was not so mad as to administer a still as of yet unproven cocktail to himself without any kind of human testing.

Unfortunately for him, this formula was being done off the books, without any knowledge of the university, so he couldn’t just announce his findings to the world and start human trials. Jon also knew he couldn’t simply spike someone’s drink with the formula to observe the results. If it proved toxic he’d have to hide a body, a subject he had skipped in his mad scientist studies and had no idea how to handle. If it proved effective, the unwitting dupe would likely be largely upset at the outcome, and he wasn’t so sure he would be able to remove all evidence that would lead back to him anyway. He would have to find a guinea pig that was as enthused about his results as he was, but also willing to sacrifice some safety to achieve his goal.

Fortunately, the internet was a vast place, and home to many, many diverse interests.

Mikey was sauntering home after morning classes. The fall leaves were just beginning to turn red and brown, and he was already feeling slightly overwhelmed as assignments piled up at the beginning of his sophomore year. Things like cooking and eating healthy had long since gone out the window, as the freshly punched notches on his belt could attest. However, Mikey wasn’t exactly distressed at these developments, and he made his way back to his dorm already salivating at the thought of a frozen pizza lunch. Maybe even two pizzas, he thought, giving his small belly a pat.

Finally reaching his dorm, he kicked off his shoes, gave a courteous hello to his dorm-mates, dropped off his pack in his room, then made his way to the shared kitchen to pop the tops on two frozen pizzas. Safely set to bake for 20 minutes, he made his way back to his room to sit down, check his email, and surf the usual sites. Homework could wait until after lunch.

He’d always loved food. He’d always loved eating, but more than that, Mikey wanted to grow, to become huge, the biggest he could ever be. Growing up in a very health-conscious household had meant there’d never really been the opportunity to truly pig out. Now that Mikey had left the nest, he was going to make the most of his new-found freedom and eat whenever and whatever he wanted, and finally realize his dream of becoming bigger. He’d already gained the freshman 15 and then some, and was well on his way to packing away the sophomore thirty. A few more weeks and he’d have to buy bigger pants.

Still, progress was too slow for his liking; he wanted to get big, now. Luckily the internet was a big place, filled with many diverse interest. After checking his email, Mikey logged into Gnosher to check his messages there. Mikey had stumbled across the gainer community some years ago, and was surprised to find out there were a lot of people that actually shared his desires. Gnosher was just one such site where people could congregate, share tips, and just generally encourage one another to grow as big as they wanted. Mikey was in touch with several inspiring individuals, and he scrolled through a few messages congratulating him on nearly outgrowing his belt.

The message that caught his eye today was something he’d never received before. There was the usual congratulations for his steady gains, but after that was the question, “How would you like to get much much bigger, much much faster?” It sounded like he was going to be given a pitch for some sort of new weight gain protein mix, something that Mikey had so far avoided on a university budget, but he was intrigued enough to at least reply back asking for the details. Already putting it out of his mind and finishing up his online perusal, he made his way back to the kitchen to begin scarfing his now cooked pizzas.

Upon re-entering his room, Mikey was surprised to see on his still open Gnosher page that he’d already gotten a reply. Curiosity won out over hunger, and he clicked the message open to read it. It turned out the writer was a local, working at the university, and he’d been working on a weight gain formula that was now ready for human testing. After reading Mikey’s profile, he thought he’d be eager to take part in trials, and was wondering if he’d like to sign up. It all seemed too good to be true, and Mikey felt a healthy dose of skepticism, but once again curiosity won out and Mikey replied with positive enthusiasm. Again, a few short minutes later, he was provided instructions to come to professor Jon Walker’s lab this afternoon and he’d be given further instructions.

Bewildered, but excited, Mikey quickly ate his pizzas, stowed his homework for later this evening, and made his way to the Biotechnology building where professor Walker’s lab was.

Now he wondered if he truly was mad. Test the formula here? Now? And with a student here at the university? What if something went wrong? What if the boy screamed and went to the authorities? Or worse, what if it killed him? How would he drag a body out of this office, in the middle of the afternoon? The more the professor fraught and fretted the more insane he thought his plan to be. How could he let his own ego get the better of him to do something so reckless?

Professor Walker sighed, and slumped back behind his desk, the image of a young sophomore still displayed on his screen. Brown hair, blue eyes, boyish looks, and a budding belly; who was he kidding? It wasn’t just his ego that made him message this boy. A life devoted to science had left the professor desperately lonely, and he had jumped at the chance of not only fulfilling his life’s work, but also actually meeting someone with the same desires as his own. He sighed again at his own folly, but at the same time there was the building fire of anticipation. What if it all worked?

“Professor Walker?”

The voice was quiet, coming from the other end of the lab adjoining his office. Steeling himself, he put on his best professor face, and walked out the door to greet his subject.

“Professor?” Mikey called out, wondering if the professor may still be on lunch, but after a few moments he heard a bustling from the small office next to the lab, and then a small, bespectacled, middle-aged man walked out to greet him.

“Ah, Michael, so good you could make it,” he said warmly, extending his hand in greeting.

Mikey took the hand and shook. “Thank you for contacting me. I was surprised that this was something the university even studied.”

“Indeed, the biotechnology laboratory has many concurrent studies being done.”

“I’m in computer sciences, so I had no idea. I’d have certainly signed up if this was a posted study! So, do I have to sign anything?”

The professor paused and them seemed to stammer nervously. “Ah, yes, well, this is something of a personal passion of mine. Off the school’s records, so to speak.”

Mikey raised a skeptical eyebrow. “So… what is it? Some sort of new protein powder?”

“No no no, nothing of the sort. What I have created is a chemical formula able to completely alter the subjects fundamental genetics in such a way that it’s almost like they’re a new person.”

“That sounds… a little dangerous? Look, I’d like to fill out, not become a totally different person.” Mikey said, taking a caution half-step back.

“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry, I misspoke. The formula doesn’t change everything, like your hair or eye colour, but actually targets and edits some very specific genes. You’ve heard of course of certain ethnicities being more prone to weight gain and obesity?”

“You mean like, Samoans?” Mikey offered, still skeptical.

“Yes, precisely, very good! Polynesian men simply have higher percentage of adipose tissue than the general population. What my formula does is take those specific genome sequences and edits them into the host, essentially changing their heritage slightly, but without changing anything else like skin or hair colour.” Mikey was about to reply, but the professor exuberantly continued, “But that’s just one example of what the formula does; obesity is a much more complex syndrome than any one gene. There is also the hereditary genetics passed from parents and especially the mother, there is epigenetics when a child is overweight and carries that weight into puberty and then adulthood - all these things are contained and subtly changed in this formula. It’s truly a marvel, if I do say so myself!” Concluded the professor, clearly proud of himself.

“But you haven’t tested it on people yet.” Mikey added flatly.

The professor seemed to shrink bank in on himself. “Well, no, not as of yet, that’s why you’re here of course. However, studies on laboratory animals have been very promising.”

“Like, how promising?”

“98% of subjects have doubled their initial mass after ingestion.”

“And the other 2%?”

“Um, well most of the rest were simply ineffective, and a statistically insignificant percentage suffered mild cardiac events.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “How insignificant?”

“It was one. Out of hundreds of subjects,” the professor grumped. “I have a defibrillator in my office. I promise you this will be perfectly safe.”

Mikey crossed his arms, but a coy smile crept into his face. “Doubled their mass, huh?”

The professor nodded. “Yes, that’s what my studies showed.”

“Alright then, how do we do this?”

The professor visibly relaxed, and then beamed enthusiasm once more. “Splendid! Well, first, we’ll take a measurement so we have a baseline comparison of course. Take off your shoes and jacket and follow me.” Professor Walker then made his way back to his office, and Mikey quickly kicked off his shoes and jacket and followed him in. “Please close the door behind you, would you?” Mikey did, and then lay his shoes and jacket on the floor near the door.

Once inside the professor moved to a physician’s scale and motioned for Mikey to get on. “Now please remove your effects and we’ll weigh you in.” This brought Mikey up short, but he brought his shirt over his head, undid his belt and slid out of his jeans, and lay the pile of clothes near the door with his shoes and jacket. The professor coughed slightly and waved a hand at Mikey’s groin, “and your boxers I’m afraid.”

“What- why?”

Wringing his hands, professor Walker replied, “well, you could keep them on, but it will likely become very uncomfortable quite soon.”

This made Mikey’s eyes widen, but he obeyed and woodenly removed his boxers, standing there naked, hands over his groin. The display of modesty made professor Walker chuckle. “Now now, don’t feel embarrassed. I am a doctor, after all.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your doctorate in?” Mikey shot back.

The professor shrugged. “Molecular biology, but I’d like to think I’d bring the same level of professionalism and courtesy as an MD.”

Mikey snarked, but removed his hands and made his way to get on the scale. The professor wasn’t sure what the young man had to be ashamed of; the boy was more than adequately hung. Impressively hung, even.

Moving behind Mikey, Dr. Walker moved the scale’s weights back and forth, slowly zeroing in on the young man’s weight, while surreptitiously sneaking glances at his subject’s form. An average frame, but possessing a certain softness and a rounded middle suggesting the boy had been skipping the gym and snacking a little too much during late-night study sessions. This, along with his shyness, made him absolutely adorable. It almost made the professor regret the circumstances by which he’d found the boy naked in his office. Almost.

“About 220 pounds, or thereabouts,” the professor announced, and then marked it down on a paper on his desk. Then, he reached into a drawer in his desk, retrieved a small vial of blue liquid and grandly announced, “Now for the fun part, as they say!”

Mikey gulped. He was really doing this. If this worked, he’d put every other gainer on Gnosher to shame. If it didn’t, well, it probably wouldn’t kill him. Hopefully. “Do I just drink it?”

“Indeed, my boy, indeed,” he said handing the vial over to the young man.

Mikey sighed, “Well, here goes,” and drank the vial in one gulp. He stood there for a few moments, not sure what he was expecting to feel, before finally asking, “so how long does this stuff take?”

“Well, in mice it was metabolized in approximately 5 minutes or so. There’s no rushing science,” the professor added, waggling his finger for scholarly emphasis.

Mikey was beginning to wonder if the professor put on this much of a show during his classes, when he started to feel a wave of warmth build up inside, before gently crashing over him, only to do it again moments later. “Uh, professor? I feel something.”

“Yes? How do you feel? Describe the sensation.”

“Uh, warm? Like I have a fever, only it’s in my stomach. And something- urgh!” Mikey doubled over, clutching his stomach in pain, but while he did he found there was more stomach to clutch, and after a moment there was more still. His belly was rounding out more and more, the flesh expanding beneath his fingers like an inflating ball.

“Michael, are you alright?” Dr. Walker sounded genuinely alarmed and took a step forward, however Mikey waved him off and slowly righted himself. As he did he took a slight stumbling step backwards, causing the newly formed flesh of his belly to jiggle slightly. The completely alien sensation of a part of him moving well after he had stopped made his eyes widen in astonishment.

“Oh man, this is happening! I’m getting bigger!” Mikey exclaimed, ecstatic, all pain forgotten as he grabbed his belly to bounce and jiggle it in his hands. In moments it was large enough to have a fold over his waist, and he could lift and drop it with a faint slap of flesh meeting flesh. Then, another wave of heat, this time diffuse and all-encompassing, but without any pain at all. Mikey let it wash over him in rapt anticipation.

For his part, Dr. Walker was even more ecstatic than Mikey was. It was working! This boy was blimping up before his very eyes!  First in the gut, but he could see the rest of him was slowly catching up. His previously flat chest was budding into a pair of perky man tits, tiny areolas stretching wider as his new mammaries inflated with soft flesh. His entire chest now began to rise outwards like inflating dough, the skin softening with adipose as it accumulated beneath it. The softness then spread to his shoulders, down his arms, then up his neck and face, all of it becoming noticeably thicker with growth. In moments the boy had a double chin, round moon cheeks, and a fold of flesh at the back of his neck just where his short brown hair tapered off.

Soon It seemed as though his body was reaching capacity as folds and creases were appearing beneath his chest, arms and arm-pits, the billowing fat unable to be contained beneath the skin. It was then that the growth changed tack, now causing his frame to visibly broaden. Dr. Walker could almost hear the creak of bones as his hips, shoulders and torso enlarged and expanded, making him wide, heavy-set, and barrel chested. The folds of flesh disappeared momentarily as the fat spread out to cover the enlarging canvas, but soon reappeared as the expansion of his skeleton slowed, only now much further apart. With wider hips, Mikey was forced to shuffle his feet and widen his stance, thicker feet now splayed diagonally in order to balance the heavier load.

Mikey could not have been happier feeling each new curve and roll, each new bounce and jiggle as his frame packed on more and more and more. He rubbed his hands over his torso over and over, each time the sensation bringing something new, and becoming intensely erotic. He could tell between his much wider set thighs and beneath his protruding middle he was becoming aroused in front of an audience, but he was too turned on to care. He was getting everything he’d ever wanted all at once, and he was more than happy to ignore a spectator and simply enjoy each new sensation as he grew.

As incredibly erotic as the whole scene was for Mikey, it was even more so for Dr. Walker. The adorable young man was becoming the hunk of his dreams right in front of him, and it was becoming increasingly obvious as the well hung cock began to stiffen and rise to it’s full length, almost slapping the belly hanging above it. It really was impressive, and the sight of this hulking tank blissfully rubbing his chest and belly while his huge cock bounced beneath was more than enough to get the good professor hard as steel in his slacks.

“Oh god, this feels sooo goood,” Mikey moaned, hands never leaving his torso, and the professor could see a drop of pre began to form at the tip of his now turgid member. Doctor Walker was working up the nerve to reach out and touch the leaking organ, when he noticed Mikey’s growth was now redirecting south, his legs, ass and feet puffing up and filling out. Within moments each of his thunder thighs were the size of a normal man’s waist, but unlike the billowy flab of his torso each lower limb was a near solid ham as Mikey’s musculature became better able to handle the heavy burden he’d be carrying from now on. The only exception to this seemed to be his glutes, which not only blew up to this size of two basketballs but also retained a certain wobbliness, the massive globes fighting for space on Mikey’s backside.

Another moan brought the professor’s attention back to the young man’s groin. As each thigh grew thicker they began to press together, leaving less and less space for Mikey’s nuts. Each ball was now stretching the scrotum so thin the veins were clearly visible, and the professor was concerned if he didn’t do something the skin might tear. However, his concerns were expunged as just like the rest of his skin it stretched and grew, letting each teste rest lower and lower until they dangled halfway to his knees. It was then the professor noticed each teste not only sagged lower in a far more loose and dangly scrotum, but seemed larger than before, having gone from quail eggs to those of large chickens. This was certainly not something he had programmed into the formula, however he wasn’t complaining.

Fat began to accumulate in the boy’s groin, swallowing up more and more of the leaking spire, making it appear inches shorter than when he had walked into the office earlier. Yet as the professor leaned in to better observe the changes, he noticed he’d been wrong. Not only had the fat of the man’s pubis swallowed much of his length, his cock had indeed lost a fair bit of circumference, seeming much less massive than before. In moments the young man’s member was much more modest in size, and with the rest of him having grown so large it seemed seemed almost small. Mikey’s burgeoning middle prevented him from seeing this new development, and judging by the blissed out expression still painted all over his face he didn’t seem to notice, or care, about his loss in manhood. The professor hoped the expansion of the boy’s testicles would make up for it.

The complete alteration in frame, shape and the arrangement of fat on the body was all expected and shown in previous testing on laboratory mice, but the changes in his genitalia were never something the professor investigated in his previous trials. With these unexpected developments, the professor began to look out for other unintended side effects of the formula. Stepping back, he took stock of the much larger man Mikey was becoming. He was easily over 350 pounds, and while the growth of his skeletal structure and musculature seemed to have stopped, he could see the accumulation of adipose was still going strong. The boy’s face was nearly circular, chubby cheeks rounding out into a prominent double chin, that seemed to flow into the inflating chest, the young man’s neck having been swallowed up by the expanding tides of flesh. His chest had expanded from perky breasts to much larger man-mammaries, now sagging under their own weight, each eraser-head capped peak propped up by the tremendous tank below it. And what a tank it was, having gone from mere cask to barrel in the intervening period. Framed by love handles as thick as bread loafs and beginning to surge over the boy’s waist, it was a sight to behold. Mikey was more than enamoured with it as he jiggled and grabbed his wobbling middle, oblivious to the world and all that was happening around him.

“Eyes up here, professor.”

Or so Dr. Walker thought, but now Mikey was staring right at him, hands cupping each breast so they would squish into a provocative bosom. Above them the round, boyish face was just as provocative, a sly smile painted on his lips. “I see you’re enjoying the show,” he remarked, eyes pointedly looking at the obvious tent in the professor’s slacks.

For the first time that afternoon it was the professor who felt embarrassed, like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He floundered, mouth moving but no words coming out, only stopping once Mikey swayed much larger hips. He gulped, frozen, his entire being overcome by lust. Finally Mikey walked towards him, his gait now an odd swagger as each titanic thigh was forced to move circularly around the other with every step. His entire body shook with each lumbering foot fall, an earthquake of flesh growing larger with each passing moment.

Mikey reached him and just stood there, belly mere inches from bumping the professor backward, seductive eyes still staring into his. Then the professor felt something soft and warm pressing into his torso and groin; it was Mikey’s belly. It had surged forward in the few seconds he’d been standing in front of him, and now his belly sagged enough that the lowest portions were rubbing against the professor’s hardon. Mikey tittered and then swayed his hips again, the soft flesh seeming to caress his aching cock.

“Why don’t you touch it?” He asked, grasping the professor’s arm to bring it to the warm flesh of his side. It was so soft, so smooth, his hand sinking in as he pressed further, encouraged by the now colossal college student. After sinking in an inch the two moaned simultaneously, the professor unable to hold himself back any longer. He brought his mouth down to smash into the young man’s chest, lips and tongue seeking the enormous nipple atop the pendulous moobs, slathering saliva all over the pale expanse before finally latching on to suckle with abandon. The professor’s free hands grasped and fondled the yielding fat of Mikey’s belly while he stood there, an unmoving edifice, moaning appreciatively as the older man worshipped his voluminous form.

Had the professor been paying attention he may have noticed the change in tone that had come over Mikey. His manner towards Dr. Walker was mostly ambivalent earlier, but now he was gratefully accepting his unbridled lust with eager enthusiasm. However the professor was beyond thinking rationally at this point. He licked and nibbled and bit the meat of Mikey’s chest, groping at his belly and love-handles as far as he could reach, noticing how hard it was to reach the entire circumference of his waist. He licked lower and lower on the mountainous middle, mashing his face as far into the yielding fat as it would go, eventually descending to his knees, a worshipper having reached mecca. Finally, he reached up to lift the tremendous belly to view the prize now hidden beneath the cascading tide of flesh.

Mikey was already hard as a rock from the professor’s attention, however even at full mast, and even considering the exorbitant flesh that surrounded it, he could tell that Mikey had lost much of his impressive length and girth. Even with his hand pressing against his now impressive fat pad, Mikey extended perhaps 4 inches at best. Resting the behemoth belly on his forehead, the professor leaned into the hot, humid groin to swallow Mikey whole.

He wasn’t sure how the professor was able to deep-throat him, but Mikey couldn’t deny it felt amazing. While the professor eagerly took his entire length over and over, Mikey stood with legs splayed, playing with each doughy breast and the huge nipples at their ends. He knew he was enormous now, larger than he’d ever thought he could gain naturally, and it felt so good to push and fondle and mold his own body, the feeling of size and weight and power. He began to thrust into the professor’s mouth, each movement causing his entire body to quake while sending his pendulous balls to slap into the professor’s chin.

For Mikey each thrust was the barest jerk forward, but for Dr. Walker it had the momentum of over 450 pounds of man bearing down on his face. The first thrust nearly knocked him over, causing him to lose his grip on the colossal belly, smothering him in a tidal wave of fat. He recovered though, and redoubled his efforts, both hands now holding up the prodigious paunch while meeting the next thrust with his open and accepting mouth.

The slap of Mikey’s balls on the professor’s chin filled the office, and while Mikey found he was able to thrust as easily as he could when he was thin, he was working up a substantial sweat after only a few minutes. Liquid dripped on his nose and forehead to gather into rivulets formed on the vast expanse of chest and belly, and he could only imagine how the pressor felt beneath the horizon of his middle.

The professor was more concerned with simply holding on, and only noticed the taste of precum on his lips as Mikey’s thrusting picked up pace. Each battering of balls and groin meat left him covered in the fat man’s sweat. However, the enormous, dangling orbs (that would surely leave bruises once this was over) were beginning to pull upward, and he knew Mikey’s climax was imminent.

Mikey knew he couldn’t last. The professor’s magic mouth took him to the root with each thrust, and the feeling of his entire body jiggling in tune with his lovemaking was simply beyond words. With a bellowing moan, Mikey squeezed each of his love-handles as hard as he could and came.

Even though he could feel the twitching of the dick in his mouth and the ascent of the gigantic balls, the professor was completely unprepared for the torrent of cum that gushed forth from Mikey’s diminished manhood. The first gush filled his mouth completely, while the second overfilled it, and the third made jizz come sputtering out comically from his nose and mouth. The sound of Mikey’s seed splattering on the linoleum floor of the professor’s office was more akin to a dropped cup of coffee than the missed remnants of an impromptu blowjob, and the professor wondered if this was yet another side effect of the formula or if the young man had possessed this ability all along.

After what seemed an eternity, the gushing of Mikey’s geyser slowed to a trickle, giving the professor time to swallow and, more importantly, breathe. He fell backward on his ass, the propped-up belly falling forward and jiggling Mikey’s front while the last drops of his orgasm fell to join the small puddle that had formed beneath him. He calmed down and took stock of his enormity once more, and sighed a deep, satisfied sound.

“Looks like your formula worked, professor.”

Still catching his breath, the good doctor could only manage, “Evidently.”

Mikey wobbled back to the professor’s desk, his lumbering gait somewhat more awkward than a man of his size already would be as he was getting used to his vastness. Noticing something, he bent sideways and picked up a distinct blue vial. “You know professor, there seems to be enough formula left for one more.”

The professor thought about it for a moment, acknowledging mentally that neither he nor his young charge had any clothes that would fit and would have to trundle home, jiggling and naked. He’d have to provide some sort of explanation to his friends and colleagues, and he could even be subjecting himself to the same sort of bizarre mental changes and even possible alterations of his genitalia as the deity of excess that was beckoning him onward.

He downed the vial without a second thought, and as he grew and burst from his clothes, Mikey fondling and groping each new roll as it appeared on his body, he knew without doubt that this was the climax of his professional career.

rain (reddie) ch. 2

Type: Series

Summary: Richie and Eddie had dated each other for a long time, and things had been going great - or so, they thought. After Eddie comes home to an empty apartment and a note left behind, the loving relationship of four years tragically ended. Years of never speaking to each other later, the wedding of Beverly and Ben brings everyone back together, including Eddie and Richie. Hotel room mix-ups, drunken confessions, loud arguments between several losers, bad parties, old childhood games, memories, music, love, and drama ensues over the week of preparing for the wedding.

Pairing(s): Reddie, Benverly, Stenbrough

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter warnings: More heart break

A/N: I know it’s a bit slow right now, but I need to make sure I set this up completely for you guys. Hope you guys like it! If you wanna be on the tag list, just let me know. As always, credit goes to @r-u-reddie for being an amazing beta and helping me to better the chapter. <3 I dedicate this chapter to @eddiespaghettte because she’s my fave.

AO3 link coming in two weeks

Check out the new inspo tag here

Silence took over the lobby while Richie and Eddie stared at one another, the tension palpable. Years and years of painful silence was abruptly broken.

Eddie wondered if Richie’s heart was racing just as fast as his was.

He was struggling to organize his thoughts in that moment, unable to truly process his ex-boyfriend and how he felt in that moment.

Sure, he had gotten a glimpse of Richie a few times on TV or somewhere on social media since the break up, but it was something he would quickly change channels away from or exit out of. He had avoided studying him, knowing that the ache he had spent over a year trying to repress would immediately return as a sharp pain.

That sharp pain that he was trying to avoid after all of those years finally made its return. Seeing Richie brought back a rush of emotions that he wasn’t mentally prepared to handle.

His breathing speeding up ever so slightly had Eddie instinctively reaching for his back pocket, until he remembered that he didn’t have an inhaler anymore.

It was Richie’s disappearance that made the use of the inhaler needed, and it took him months to stop needing it afterwards.

‘You don’t need it. You don’t need it.’ He chanted in his mind to calm down.

As everything that they’d been through flashed across his mind, a glare started to form on Eddie’s face, his arms crossing over his chest defiantly. At first, he wasn’t sure which emotion would rise to the surface, but it was clear that anger was making its appearance.

“No hi, Eddie?” Richie’s resonant voice echoed inside of his head, making Eddie upset that it still made his heart skip a beat to hear.

Keep reading

i truly, genuinely hate packing. Like, you have to choose out of everything you own a select few things that you KNOW will be useful to you on ANY GIVEN DAY. Not even your favorites, because they might not be completely versatile. So you pack 3 bottoms, 5 light shirts, 3 heavy shirts, a statement item (like, i don’t fuckin know, a scarf?), a formal, yet casual dress, 3 pairs of shoes, undies and socks and shit, and you just. have to be happy with that for however long you’re away.

But the thing is, it gets WORSE the LONGER and FURTHER you’re staying away. Like, for say, a year, in Europe. You have to keep all of that in mind still, because you can’t make your suitcases too heavy, so you take 6 bottoms, 10 light shirts, 6 heavy shirts, two statement items (like, i don’t fuckin know, t w o  s c a r v e s) 2 formal, yet casual dresses, STILL 3 pairs of shoes, because shoes are bulky as shit, MAYBE a nice jacket??? and of course undies and socks and shit and that’s gonna be your whole wardrobe. for a y e a r. cuz you’re not about to go and spend money on getting new clothes once you get there that you’ll have to stuff in your bags coming back when you could use it for, uh, food and shit. And mailing things is just the worst™️, like unless you’re staying there permanently, there is no need to be Sharpay Evans and ship everything you own to you, but there’s that harry potter slytherin sweater that you love and you WILL be going to London at least once (???) so you want to bring it but, w h o o p s, it doesn’t fit in with your strictly black, grey, and blue color scheme, (dear god why couldn’t I have been a ravenclaw) and, mainly, is h e a v y. so you have to be happy with the cheap paper, thin snake t-shirt you got from Target©️ 6 years ago

can i just snap my fingers and i’m already packed and on the plane? please?

anonymous asked:

I heard that u give great fic recs:)))? Do u have any good long fics? Maybe highschool AU's? Thank u & have a nice day❤️

Hello! So I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t really read that many High School AUs so I’ll include College AUs as well, I hope that’s okay? (Also I’m including some of my fav long fics too bc i can’t help myself) xo

High School / College AU

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou

‘Just like a little cat,’ Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. ‘A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.’ It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all.
Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat. Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”


1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Dance to the Distortion by domesticharry

Louis accidentally breaks Harry’s camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

Young & Beautiful by velvetoscar

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

more under the cut!

Keep reading

New Neighbors AU Prompt

This is for @a92vm who messaged me asking for this prompt!

I’m thinking about maybe continuing it for a little bit. So tell me what you think! 

EDIT: I decided to post this on ao3 here

As long as Betty had lived at her apartment building (going on 3 years now) the rental directly across the hall from hers had been empty. She had been a little concerned for a while because that meant she was all alone on the bottom floor of the brownstone. However, it was a pretty safe neighborhood so the worry had lessened after time.

Today when she arrived from home from work there were boxes stacked up in the hallway and a uhaul parked out front. She tried not to be nosey when she was gathering her mail, trying to catch a little glimpse of the tenant. However, it had been 10 minutes and the door that was left slightly ajar stayed that way, but she could hear people inside. So she decided maybe she would bake some cookies to bring them as a treat. Since moving was taxing.

Changing out of her stiff work clothes (pencil skirt, pressed blouse, stockings and heels) she threw on a pair of jean overalls that she rolled up her calves, with just a plain green t-shirt underneath. Her hair went up into a pony tail and then she set to work in her kitchen.

What kind of cookies should she make? She was an enthusiastic baker outside of her editorial day job, so she generally had all kinds of baking supplies stocked. She took a look around and glanced at her recipe book. Maybe good old fashioned chocolate chip and a powdered lemon? She checked to make sure she had lemon extract – yep, so that’s what she would make.

Turning on her music app on her phone, she set it on the counter near her recipe book. She pressed shuffle, the words of Halsey filling her ears and she smiled.

It took her about two hours before she was pulling the final batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. She had baked the lemon first so they could cool, as they were better just room temperature. She filled up a plastic container, separating the flavors by pushing them to either side. She stuck the lid to the bottom and debated on bringing some milk with her, but decided not to.

Betty looked through the peep hole in her door, trying to see if anything was going on in the hallway. Empty. She stepped out and tucked her key into the little pocket of the overalls at the front of her chest. She held the container close to her and looked out the front window in the hallway to find the uhaul gone. She hoped she hadn’t missed them.

She knocked on the door, knuckles rapping against the dark wood. She heard some voices inside before someone pulled the door open. A beautiful black-haired someone.

“Oh, hi there,” the girl who answered the door’s voice was soft, but it had an edge to it. Her eyebrows were impeccably arched and she looked like she was dressed for a dinner party, not for moving.

“Hey, I’m Betty. I live just across the hall,” she jutted a thumb over her shoulder towards her door which was decorated with a pretty fall colored wreath and blue and green stripped welcome mat. “I just thought I would come introduce myself to the new neighbors, I brought cookies.” She said thrusting out the container for the girl to see.

Her eyebrows rose but she smiled at Betty in return, hand reaching out and selecting a lemon cookie. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Betty. I’m Veronica. But, I’m just here helping. Jughead here is the one moving in,” she opened the door wider, leaning against as she bit into the cookie.

Betty looked passed her and the sea of boxes to see two worn out guys, one laying on the couch and the other right on the floor in the middle of the room. She blinked.

“I don’t think carrying a box of fucking pillows can constitute as ‘helping’, Ronnie,” the one on the couch said, lifting himself up and ambling over to the door. He was tall, lean and broad shouldered. He was wearing some kind of grey beanie with little crown points over top of his dark hair. He was very attractive. Her mouth going a little dry at the sight of him, and then his hand was reaching out for hers.

She fumbled with the container, trying to shake his hand. God, why was she so awkward? Veronica pulled the container from her arms and she felt relieved. Her hand slipping into his large one, the warmth from his fingers almost burning her skin. She knew her eyes lingered too long on his hands and tore her eyes back up to his bright blue ones.

“Jughead Jones,” he offered, though Veronica had sort of introduced him already.

“Betty Cooper,” her lips curving into a smile at him, and she gestured toward the cookies. Veronica was munching on a chocolate chip one now. “I baked these cookies for you, thought it might be a nice welcome.”

He didn’t look at them right away, continued to stare at her, making her palms a bit sweaty. She wiped them on the backs of her thighs when his gaze finally turned to the container.

“Wow, thanks.” He pulled a chocolate chip one out, biting into it. He groaned, hand coming up to clutch his stomach. She thought for a minute some thing might be wrong but then he spoke. “That is the best cookie I’ve ever eaten, Betty, you’re amazing,” he shoved the rest of it in his mouth, already reaching for another one. Her cheeks colored red, and she bit her lip.

“Thanks,” her voice had gone quiet and soft, she couldn’t help but feel proud and embarrassed at the same time.

The other guy that had been laying on the floor was now leaning over Jughead’s shoulder, eyes landing on the cookies. His red hair stood out among the other two, theirs dark and inky colored.

“Oh man, those look awesome,” he reached over Jughead, grabbing a lemon flavored and bit into it. He also groaned at the taste. “Damn Betty, can you make other food too?” he said around the cookie.

Veronica narrowed her eyes at him, one hand still holding the container, the other on her hip. “That is incredibly rude, Archie.”

‘Archie’ looked sheepish, swallowing the second cookie he had inhaled. Betty just laughed though, her eyes crinkling up as she smiled.

“It’s alright. I do. Cook other things, that is. I’ve been told that my cooking and baking skills are on par.”

“Jughead, you have to have me over if Betty ever makes anything else for you,” Archie said, slapping a hand on Jughead’s shoulder, a wince his response as he rubbed his arm, probably sore.

“Like hell, Archie. She’s all mine.” Betty couldn’t help the way her breath hitched in her throat. Of course, he was just talking about the food. Right? They had just met. But she couldn’t help the way the words made her excited, stomach fluttering with a nervousness she hasn’t felt in a long while.

“Well, I’ll have you over for dinner sometime then. I don’t get the chance to cook for anyone but myself, so it would be nice. Just bring your appetite,” she was honestly happy to cook, she loved doing it. Cooking for a party of one got old, and she ended up with leftovers for days. Eating lasagna for four days in a row got tiring.

“Oh, I’ll definitely bring my appetite.” He stared right at her as he said the words, eyes burning so hard into her that she almost felt the heat. Was he flirting with her? Or was she imagining things? She had a hard time with that sort of thing.

“Right, good. I’ll just leave these here then,” Betty gestured to the cookies Veronica was holding with an amused smile, her brown eyes calculating.

“Thanks, again. For the cookies,” Jughead said, stepping forward out from Archie’s hand. He was close enough to her that she could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke and leather. It made her a little dizzy and her knees a slightly weak. She smiled up at him, walking backwards toward her door with a little shake of her head.

“No problem.”

“I’ll see you around then?” he questioned, leaning against the door frame, one arm high above his head as they spoke across the hallway now, her back at her door.

“Yep, I’ll be right here. You know where to find me.” She pulled her key from her pocket. “Have fun unpacking,”

“Oh, I won’t. I might need a break this week from it. Maybe we can take one together?” he tilted his head at her, lips pulled into a smirk. Damn if it didn’t look good on him.

“Of course. Knock anytime.” She returned, hoping that didn’t sound desperate but rather just causal, maybe a little flirty. Her cheeks felt hot again.

“I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Have a good night, Jughead.”

“You too, Betty.”

Turning around and fiddling with the key in her lock, she felt his eyes still watching her, glued to her back. She silently prayed that her ass looked okay in the overalls. Finally stumbling through the door, she closed it, pressing her back against it as she sucked in a couple breaths of air. This was so hard. She hadn’t had a conversation like this in over three years, the last time she moved. The last time she had a relationship had quickly turned let’s just say, not so normal.

It made her heart beat fast with anxiety.

She finally heard the click of his door shutting, and she peeled herself away from the door. She needed a drink.

anonymous asked:

What happens if the other bird parent dies when they're incubating eggs (species where they both do it)? Does the other continue alone or abandon the nest?

I think it really depends on the species.

Some birds may be able to do the job on their own if all goes well, but I know that birds like owls are very picky about nesting and can skip entire years on it if there’s not enough rodents to feed the family.
Some ocean birds also have to make long trips to gather food so two parents are absolutely necessary for the eggs.

But I just don’t have enough knowledge or experience to know for sure. @why-animals-do-the-thing​ might know more, maybe..?

There is one related personal experience tho, but I don’t know if it helps you with your question at all:
I used to have a flock of zebra finches and there was once this small, grey female no other bird seemed very fond of. One day however - and to my surprise - she laid a single egg to one of the nests. She didn’t take care of it by herself much, but we had this gay couple (=two male finches that stuck together despite the available females) that took over the job and helped out both incubating and feeding the chick. Judging by the baby’s coloration I don’t think either of them was the father, but they took turns incubating since no one else was helping the poor outcast with her nest.

Sneak Preview!

So my short one-shot for @elsewhereuniversity has become a 7,000 words and counting story. Since I’m still working on it I figured I’d give ya guys a sneak peak at it!


Your new roommate greets you with a smile, clothes like a bunch of sharpies threw up on them, and an extended hand.

“Hi, I’m Reagan!”

You take the hand, note the faint scars crisscrossing like a maze across the skin.

“Um, hi.”

They are so short they have to tip toe to look over your shoulder. “Do you need any help with your stuff?” You shake your head and Reagan nods, still smiling, before leaving the door open and going back to their side. “Kay, just let me know if you do.”

They are wearing the shoes that light up when you walk and you had no idea those came in adult sizes. Or maybe their feet are small? You pick up your first bag and enter the dorm, prepared for your first year at university.

You are not prepared, however, for the cat that sits on your roommate’s bed.

“Uh… we’re allowed pets here?”

Reagan looks up from their laptop, looking confused. “Pets?”

You put your bag down on your side of the room and point to the black long haired cat curled up on their tie dye sheets. Reagan follows your finger and blinks at the cat.

“That’s not a pet. That’s Skooma.”

Pause. “Like in Skyrim?”

Reagan gives you another grin. “Naw, I played Morrowind.” Nervous laughter. “I’m old.”

“I’m still pretty sure we’re not allowed cats.”

Their face goes blank and they stare.  If it weren’t for the blinking you would think they’d died or something.

“It’s… Skooma.”

Clearly, you aren’t getting anywhere about this. You’d just wait for an RA to find out or a teacher or something. It would be sad but you didn’t want to get into trouble. You put your first bag down and go to grab your other two. The meeting is at noon so you have some time to unpack and get things situated. You glance over at your roommate’s side, wondering how they’ve set their stuff up. Reagan is sitting against the wall, laptop on their lap and typing with a speed that sort of intimidates you. They haven’t even removed their shoes. Actually… now that you’re looking at their side it’s kinda… bare. Their sheets are bright tie dye that hurts to look at, there’s a rolling Hello Kitty suitcase beside the bed, and their desk is empty except for a brown, round bed, supposedly for the cat still curled up on the sheets. Other than those things the entire side of their room has no trinkets, posters, not even a litter box.

You wonder if it would be rude to put up your own posters. You eye your small framed photo’s and the Furby you’d brought. No, no, you couldn’t let something like this intimidate you. It was stupid. Who cared what your roommate did. You pull out your posters and sticky tack and try to artfully arrange them on the walls. The photos and Furby are put on your desk along with your brand new Graduation laptop.

“You might want to take the batteries out.”

You jump, in the middle of pulling out clothes and hanging them in the shared closet. “Uh… what?”

Reagan has a pair of thick, expensive looking headphones around their neck, squooshing their face. “That Furby. You should take out the batteries. Might end up hearing things you don’t want to.”

You can only stare at such a weird request.

Reagan smiles. “Just a suggestion.” They put the headphones back on and continue working on their laptop. Somehow, the cat has migrated to their lap and the computer is almost falling off their knees but they don’t seem bothered.

You wait but when they don’t do anything else you put away the last of your clothes. Reagan’s side of the closet isn’t as bare as their side of the room, at least. Just… very bright. You think some of the sneakers are heely’s for goodness sake. Who even wears those anymore? You check the time. It’s almost noon and you just know you’ll get lost on your way to the freshman meeting. You put on a new t-shirt and grab a small jacket just in case. You’re out the door before pausing. Wait… You poke your head back in.

“Uh…” Can they even hear you with those headphones on? Yet Reagan pulls them off and looks up expectantly. “Um, are you coming?”

The smiling is starting to creep you out. “To what? The freshman meeting? God no, I’m definitely not a freshman!”



“Pffft, the look… no, no, my old roommate, uh, left and I guess they had to stick someone in here.” They reach down and scratch the cat’s ears. “If you don’t like bein’ my roommate just give it a bit and I’m sure some rooms will open up.”

“Um… kay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Reagan waves with their unoccupied hand then yelps as their laptop takes a tip. You leave to muttered cursing and something that sounds like hissing air.

You only get lost once on your way to the meeting and so you’re quite early. A cheerful older student comes up and gives you a nametag. She tells you to write your name on it, but not your true name. Whatever that means. You’re staring at the nametag in confusion (do you put your full name? What the heck is a true name?) When another student comes up to you. He’s got a bit of a beard and his curly hair barely fits under his University cap.

“Havin’ some issues?”

“Uh, yeah. I was told to put my name on it but… not my true name?”

He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Best to go with a nickname. Make ‘em happy, eh?”

It’s still weird but you put a nickname anyways and peel off the back to stick it to your t-shirt.

“Well, anyways, my name’s Harris.” You shake his hand, calloused and rough.

‘Uh, well, you already know mine.” You point to your tag.

“Now I do. What’s your room number? I’m pretty sure I can find your RA for you, I know ‘em all.”

You have to pull the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket and peer at your writing. “Um… I’m in room fourty-four floor four.”

When you look back up from putting the paper away you freeze. Because he’s… he’s staring at you with something like fear or pity.

“So, uh, fourty-four floor four, huh. Um… you met your roommate yet?”


He nods shakily. “Good. That’s… good.”

“Is… is something wrong? They’re not some sort of murderer or something are they?”

“What? No, no.” He wipes his hands on his jeans. “Just… be careful, kay?”


“Is this about the ca-”

His hands clap around your mouth and holy shit you thought people only did that in movies.

“Nope. Nothing to do with them. Or it. Or anything.” You duck away from his gross, sweaty hands and give him a dubious stare. “Well, uh, the RA for floor four is that girl in the blue jacket.” He takes off, giving you looks over his shoulder.

Your RA gives you an absent nod and a smile before returning to her phone and you sit in a provided chair. You thumb on your own phone, blessed anti-social device. Noon passes and when the stragglers thin, the RA claps to get attention and smiles at everyone. You half listen to the speech. Some of it seems odd (carrying iron? Salt? The bowls by the doors had to be filled with milk?) but most was the usual stuff you had already read in the papers they hand out. Yes, you read them.

But, then…

“Oh, and who is staying in room fourty-four?”

You blink. What. Cautiously, you raise your hand and shrink when everyone looks at you.

The RA, you already forgot her name, smiles at you. “Excellent, I have to speak to you after the tour, okay?”

You nod, what else could you do? As the RA continues on, a girl beside you, glasses taking up half her face and hair pulled into a ponytail pokes you in the shoulder.

“What’s so special about room fourty-four?” She whispers through a lisp.

You shrug.

The boy on the other side of her leans over, almost falling into the girls’ lap and she pushes at his shoulder. “Do you have a single room?”

You shake your head. “No, I have a roommate.”

Both of them stare at you. The girl pulls at her skirt. “Who is it?”

“Um, they’re not a freshman. So… they’re not here.”

The boy smacks his hand on the back of the girls chair. “What? No way!”

The RA clears her throat, staring at them pointedly. The two shrink back, still giving you looks. You hope you can avoid them when the tour starts. As usual, it is not to be, and the two corner you as the group is herded together.

“So,” The girl starts. Her nametag says Bea in looping, over exaggerated cursive. “You have a roommate in a freshman dorm building who’s not a freshman?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I said.”

They stare at you. You stare back.

The boy, his nametag says Gary in blocky, thick pen, throws up his hands. “Well?! You can’t just say that and then not explain anything!”

You open your mouth, to say <i>i can’t tell if they’re female or male and everytime i think of asking i can’t they have a cat that doesn’t look like a cat and they smile too much</i> but the words catch in your throat and you don’t say anything.

Bea scowls at you, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. C’mon, Gary, we’ll probably see this mystery roommate eventually.” she stalks off in her high heels, skirt swishing about her knees. Gary gives you a glare before following.

You wonder if you’ve lost some potential friends.

“Well, they were rude.”

You yelp and whirl around, your own hair smacking into your face.

Reagan smiles at you, wearing an eye searing orange hoodie and bright pink sweatpants. They are pulling their Hello Kitty suitcase behind them and you have no idea how you didn’t hear them approach.

“I was just heading out and saw you about to start your tour so I decided to say hi.” They tsk and shake their head. “But instead I hear some truly rude people. Those two won’t make any friends like that. Are you okay, though?”

You work your jaw and give them a watery smile. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” For some reason the question makes the two’s snubbing hurt even worse.

Reagan looks into the distance, seeming lost in thought. It goes on long enough you shuffle uncertainly. Just as you’re about to speak they meet your eyes and give you a grin. “Don’t worry about people like them. Oh! Here, you should wear this.” They reach into their hoodie pocket and pull out a bead bracelet. It’s made of those cheap plastic beads you get in kid jewellry making kits. All you can tell is that the colours are bright and many, pinning down the pattern or naming any makes your head hurt.

You accept it.

For some reason you slip it onto your wrist. It’s made of that stretchy string you get in the kits and easily fits. Against your wrist you can see some of the beads are the white letter ones and you flip them over.

Your name.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your tour. See ya!” Reagan turns, the suitcase making no noise as it runs over the gravel. Their hood is bulging outwards and you can see a black, fluffy tail draped over the edge. Two bright yellow eyes stare at you.

You are not sure when you return to the group. The tour guide’s don’t mention it, in fact they avoid looking at you altogether. You listen to the speeches about the cafeteria and how to use meal points. You follow as they show everyone the library, the on site gym, hand out maps for campus. You rub the bracelet, feeling the square beads in between the round ones.

You… are pretty sure you never told anyone your full name.

Nothing you own has your full name on it.

Only your student number was on your assigned room sheet.

After the tour everyone is herded into the cafeteria for lunch (provided by the school specifically for the freshman). You find your floors RA and tap her on the shoulder. She turns, giving you a customer service generic smile.

“Uh, you wanted to see me after the tour?”

The other older students she was talking to peer at you curiously. Harris is the only one actively avoiding looking at you.

“Oh! Excellent, just give me a sec, you guys.” You follow when she walks into an unoccupied corner. “Okay, your roommate was there when you went to your room, right?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Thought so. So the… uh, previous roommate left some stuff and I figured you could use it.”

“What? Like… clothes? Shouldn’t that stuff be given to, um, someone else?”

She laughs and reaches into her pocket. “Not that kind of stuff.” She pulls out a bag of dried salmon cat treats, a small toy mouse, and a pair of glasses with one of the lenses cracked.You take it because she won’t stop holding the stuff out to you expectantly.

You stare at it. “Um, doesn’t this cat stuff belong to my roommate?”

She shakes her head. “You’ll need it. But don’t wear those,” she points to the glasses. “All the time. They’re brushed with iron. Don’t want to see stuff you shouldn’t!” She laughs, too bright, too loud. “Well, good luck!” And she leaves you standing there with an armful of weird cat things and a pair of useless glasses. You don’t even wear glasses. Actually… you touch the lenses. They’re plastic.



“I think you’re my soulmate, Jimin…?”

“I don’t have a soulmate.” He can’t, not when he has a job this dangerous. Not when the agency hired him for no more than the simple fact that he did not have a soulmate.

The boy holds up a very familiar looking phone in his hands, putting his thumb on the fingerprint sensor.

“Then why was I able to unlock your phone?”

In a world where soulmates have the same fingerprints, there’s not much holding them together other than the fine ripples on the tips of each finger.

Or: Jungkook finds himself a soulmate he doesn’t want, and Jimin finds himself a soulmate he can’t have.

Keep reading


You work a 20-40 hour work week.
You hear that Raw, SmackDown, or any number of pay-per-view events are coming to town.
You either go to the arena and wait in line or be sure to get online in time to get the tickets that you want.
You drive to the arena, making sure you put gas in your car (which isn’t free), or you get an Uber (also not free).
You pay to park, anywhere from $4-$20 (based on experience).
You buy a t-shirt, maybe a program, nachos, hot dogs, soda, beer, etc.
You sit in an uncomfortable seat next to someone you don’t know.
An entire roster of professionals who train every day to be on the show you’re fucking attending come out and wrestle on what’s basically free TV for your entertainment.

And you spend however long at the event chanting “CM Punk” in 20fucking17, 3 years after he LEFT pro wrestling and hasn’t done an event since, because you’re not completely enthralled with the match in front of you.

If this is a story about you, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but… you’re a fucking asshole, and you’re the worst kind of wrestling fan. Plus, you’re fucking stupid. Who spends that much money to sit around and act like an asshole? Who empties their wallet to sit there like a jackass and demean the wrestlers destroying their bodies for your entertainment?

Oh well. Do you, I guess.

connections between “kafka on the shore” and the hyyh trilogy

Kafka On The Shore & “Butterfly”

Keep in mind that “Butterfly” is a song whose entire production (lyrics, production,and arrangement) was led by BangPD himself. It can only be suspected that he wrote it with the intentions of it properly reflecting the entirety of the HYYH series.

Not only was there a blatant allusion to the novel in the lyrics to Namjoon’s verse:

심장은 메마른 소리를 내
꿈인지 현실인지 알 수 없네
나의 해변의 카프카
저기 숲으로 가진 말아줘
내 마음은 아직 너 위에 부서져
조각조각 까맣게 녹아 흘러
(난 그냥 이대로 증발하고 싶어)
내 사랑은 영원인 걸
It’s all free for you baby

My heart lets out a barren sound
I cannot tell whether this is a dream or reality
My Kafka on the shore,
Don’t go to the forest over there
My heart is still shattering above you
Piece by piece, they darkly melt
(I just want to evaporate like this)
My love is eternal
It’s all free for you baby

But the entire song was reminiscent of the novel. If you look at the lyrics closely, you can actually see that they were inspired by the scene of Kafka’s and Miss. Saeki’s final meeting.

For those who have never read the novel, I’ll try my best to sum this part up (though I truly recommend that you read it for yourself, as there’s so many details in this novel that makes it impossible for me to just merely paraphrase Murakami’s writing): In this scene, Kafka travels deep into a forest and enters a parallel universe in the form of a small cabin town in the middle of the dense woods. In this place, time and memory do not matter. After spending a night within one of the cabins, he wakes up to the image of a fifteen year old girl cooking in the kitchen. This girl is the younger form of Miss. Saeki, who outside of this parallel universe was Kafka’s lover and (possible) long lost mother. However within this world, the fifteen year old Miss. Saeki has no clue of the relationship she would have with him later in her age and does not even know her own name.

The first obvious connection between this scene and the lyrics of “Butterfly” is that upon laying eyes on this girl, Kafka wants to reach out and touch her- he has not seen Miss. Saeki (in either forms) in weeks at this time and has longed to see her even if it’s just through a dream. But he can’t bring himself to and out of disbelief, even asks her later on if he would see her again and if she was going to suddenly disappear -> “I still can’t believe it. All of this seems like a dream. Don’t try to disappear. If I touch you, would you fly away and shatter? I’m scared of that”

More connections comes with the “real” Miss. Saeki’s appearance into this parallel world. In reality, while Kafka was deep in the forest, Miss. Saeki passed away after ordering an other character to burn (thus erase) her memories which were in the forms of various papers and files. Her essence enters this strange world where time does not matter to tell Kafka to leave the forest and return to real life, even if it meant returning to a world that did not care for him. She also asks him to take the painting entitled “Kafka on the Shore” that was hung in his room in the library (in the real world, Miss. Saeki owned a library that Kafka stumbled upon after running away from home to escape his father and prophecy- sleeping with his mother and sister, killing his father. Kafka ended up working there and thus lived in the library). She tells him that the painting was originally supposed to be his and that he was at the scene that the painting depicts- revealing the memory of his mother (who had left him early in his life) that he had always struggled to recall. While doing so, she walks up to the window and blocks her eyes from the sunlight with her hand -> “My Kafka on the Shore, don’t go to that forest over there. Your eyebrows that slightly grimace at the sunlight. Your downy hair that gently wavers. I’m intoxicated by your scene, my heart tickles” 

Kafka On The Shore & BTS’ Films/Music Videos

1) In the HYYH series, Jungkook plays a boy that ran away from home

Similarly, in Kafka On The Shore, Kafka Tamura runs away from home at the age of fifteen- which is the age that Jungkook joined BTS. Also the opening line to “Begin”, his solo, is “the fifteen year old me that had nothing”.

2) Kafka runs away from home, as previously stated, to escape a prophecy in which he is to kill his father and sleep with his long lost mother and sister. Throughout the plot, he finds that his fate is one that cannot be escaped. And so, the way he kills his father is very peculiar (it was not he that directly killed his father but his consciousness that was transferred inside another man’s body) . He randomly wakes up in the middle of thick brush with his body sore. He goes into a nearby restroom and finds that on the front of his shirt there was something dark, shaped “like a huge butterfly with wings spread”. Kafka soon finds out that it’s blood.

This somewhat matches up with the image of Jungkook waking up in the BST Japanese version MV.

3) Also, in HYYH on stage: prologue, Namjoon is seen writing “you have to survive” in the condensation

The phrase “살아남아야 한다” can be suspected to replicate the Korean translation of what The Boy Named Crow (a metaphysical alter ego of Kafka) repeatedly tells Kafka throughout the novel: “넌 지금부터 이 세상에서 가장 터프한 열다섯 살 소년 되어야해. 무슨 일이 있어도 그렇게 하지 않으면 네가 이 세상에서 살아나 없으니까” -> “From now on- no matter what- you’ve got to be the world’s toughest fifteen year old. That’s the only way you’re going to survive”

With Namjoon’s own individual symbol (like how Hoseok is seen with pills or how Jin is seen with a polaroid camera) being this phrase, there’s actually a theory that his character is “The Boy Named Crow” of the story. With this phrase appearing in Jin’s short film, it’s as if Namjoon is telling him that you have to become strong throughout all these hardships in order to survive.

4) For both BTS and Kafka, the shore/the sea is a source of happiness, hope, and youth.

For Kafka Tamura, the only memory he had of being happy was from when he was a toddler, at the beach with his family. However, the memory is faint as with all childhood experiences, and so he is only able to recall it through the one picture he has of that moment

It’s much like how BTS finds their escape through the shoreline. There, they’re able to act like kids and enjoy their youth- though they know that they will have to face adulthood and maturation as soon as they leave. It’s like how Jin looks as the polaroid of him with the rest of the boys and says “one day we will smile together like we did in that photo”. It’s like how Miss. Saeki stares at the painting of “Kafka On The Shore” every night and finds hope to live.

5) For both Kafka and BTS, their fate is inescapable.

Though Kafka tries so hard to run away from his prophecy, he still ends up fulfilling it. However, by the end of the novel, he finds himself lifted from his burden and instead, apart of a “brand new world”. He is the toughest fifteen year old, he is an adult.

And though BTS may long to be forever young, they still find themselves falling into temptation and sin and thus maturation. However, by the end of the story, maybe they’ll find themselves as adults or maybe it would be just Jin WHO KNOWS?

But of course: all of this doesn’t mean that BTS’ story is directly following Kafka On The Shore’s plot but it’s just interesting to be wary of all the similarities and parallels :)

Put All These Pieces Back Together

// requested by anonymous:  HI U R SUCH A GOOD WRITER I CRY okay could u possibly do a Peter Parker x reader where the reader has a crush on Peter but she doesn’t know if he likes her and she used to have an eating disorder & one day they’re @ a party and her drunk friend says something about her not eating today or something and Peter overhears and takes her aside and asks if she’s okay and like comforts her idkIDK like maybe angst at first but then super cute by the end IDK THANKS SO MUCH ILY

// a/n: oml i feel so loved, thank you so much for the praise!! i’m so, so sorry this took so long to get up, i had a massive, unshakable case of writer’s block. i hope i did okay… it’s sort of cheesy but hopefully you’ll like it anyway. thanks for the request and the love <3 enjoy!!

// character: peter parker/spiderman

// pairing: peter x reader

// summary: “your heart’s never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.”

It’s past curfew on a Friday night, and this is exactly the sort of situation you’ve been told to stay away from.

The party seems like something straight out of a cliche high school romance flick, with red solo cups littering the floor and hormonal teenagers pressed against each other in the corners, lips locked together and hands roaming each others’ bodies.

Your senses feel dulled by the constant, heavy thrum of the bass blasting through the speakers and the strong reek of alcohol that seems to have settled into the air. Still, you haven’t been to a party since–well, since before everything that happened last year, and Becca has vehemently assured you that the awkwardly clingy black top you dug out of her closet makes you look “like a total catch”.

So part of you thinks that having a little fun might not be such a bad idea.

You destroy your opponents through a few rounds of beer pong, expertly avoid a game of seven minutes in heaven before one of your friends can drag you in, fail fantastically at pool and spend a lot of the night mingling and swaying to the music.

It’s a little past midnight when Becca stumbles into you, a ditsy smile plastered on her face and her eyes clouded with insobriety.

“Hi,” she mumbles giddily as she pitches forward and you hastily grab her shoulders to keep her from spilling to the ground in a heap.

You chuckle a little. “How much did you have to drink?” you say loudly, trying to make your voice heard over the pounding music.

A crease forms between her brows and she shrugs. “I dunno,” she grins. “A lot.”

With a mixture of exasperation and fondness, you sigh and set her on the couch. “God, you are going to have such a hangover tomorrow. Promise me you’ll let me drive you home?”

She nods, but you know she’s not really listening when her eyes glance in the other direction and she says in what you think is supposed to be a quiet voice, “He’s staring at you.”

Your eyes follow her gaze to a familiar brown-haired boy in a Star Wars t-shirt, who quickly looks away to observe a nearby game of pool. “Who, Peter?” You laugh a little, but a hot blush creeps up on your cheeks and you duck your head. “Yeah right. Like he’d be staring at me.”

Your best friend’s gaze swivels from him to you and back. “You should tell him,” she declares.

“Say it a little louder, would you?” you hiss sarcastically. “I don’t think they heard you in Jersey.”

She laughs. “I’m serious,” she says, though it’s in a hushed whisper this time as she pulls you closer by the arm. “You’ve liked him for forever. And judging by the way he’s looking at you in that outfit,” her voice dips into a sing-song tone as she slurs, “he likes you too.

Rolling your eyes, you shove her shoulder gently. “Shut up, Bea, you know he doesn’t think of me that way.” you huff, and a smirk crosses her face as she stands abruptly.

“Whatever you say. I’m gonna grab some food,” she says, stretching. “You want anything?”

You shake your head, but she pouts. “Y/N, you skipped lunch, too,” she protests.

“Yeah, because I had to make up that test for Mr. Dewar. I ate after school,” you explain. You’re not lying; you don’t do that anymore. You’re better now. Or at least, you’re trying.

But Becca, drunk, doesn’t seem to see it that way. “Are you trying to stop eating again?” She makes a poor attempt at a whisper. “Because you know it’s not good for you.” She sounds like a scolding parent, and a few pairs of eyes around the room drift over to you.

Stop staring, you plead mentally, your insides squirming under their gazes. “Bea,” you say through gritted teeth, “I’m fine, okay? Drop it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” She’s loud. Too loud. Heads swivel in your direction.

People are looking at you. Everyone’s looking at you. I’m fine, you want to scream. It’s over. Nothing’s wrong with me.

But their eyes linger.

You feel like it’s freshman year all over again, and you’re collapsing on the gym floor and the nurse is bending over you and saying something about malnourishment and everyone is staring at you and you can’t breathe. And suddenly, you’re back to being the object of gossip and stolen glances and whispers in the hallway when they think you aren’t listening– she’s that anorexic girl, the one who was fat until she starved herself.

You have to remind yourself that you’re here and not there, that this is a party and you’re supposed to be having fun but instead you’re trying to remember how you’re supposed to breathe.

In, out. In, out.

Right. Easy.

So why can’t you seem to catch a breath?

It takes you a minute to realize that your hands are shaking and that Becca’s still talking, although you aren’t really listening anymore.

You mutter some excuse and slip out of the room; she tries to call out to you but you can’t seem to get to the back door fast enough.

The grass is wet. The air is humid and cool and heavy with the smell of rain, the sharp contrast to the heat inside hitting you as you step into the yard, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket and trying to shove the taste of bile back down your throat.

The smell of alcohol lingers on your clothes and you can still feel the bass from inside; you wonder for a moment what you’re doing here, when a book and a warm blanket seems like such a nice alternative.

Oh right, you think to yourself. I was trying to be normal, for one night.

Normal. You’ve spent the last eight months trying to get back there. Talking to doctors, therapists, guidance counselors, anyone who thinks they can help. You remember the before picture of it all, when you were scared and angry and you hated yourself, and now you feel the exact same way and you think that maybe you haven’t come all that far.

“Why did you do it?” the counselor asks, sincere concern lacing her words. “You have such a beautiful body, can’t you see that?”

You try to laugh, but think you might cry instead as you looked up at her. “Have you ever been to high school?”

She gives you the look, the one you’ve come to know all-too-well, that mixture of pity and disappointment that seems to be etched on everyone’s faces these days. You want to tell her to stop, that you don’t want her pity, that you might feel a lot better if everyone would just quit looking at you that way–

“–re you okay?”

Surprised, your head snaps towards him immediately. You didn’t even notice him come out. But Peter’s standing there, concern in those deep brown eyes and one hand running through his brown hair nervously.

You open your mouth, tempted to say you’re fine, that there’s nothing for him to worry about. But as you look at him, you feel a bit of your resolve wear away. At first, you’re not sure why, but then, you think, it’s Peter, the geeky science nerd you’ve known for years, exchanging study guides and making cheesy science jokes from the back of the classroom and maybe falling a little in love along the way. It’s Peter, so instead of lying you shake your head. “Not really, no,” you breathe.

“You’re not…are you still…” he trails, like he doesn’t quite know how to phrase the question.

Your choice of words, however, is more blunt. “I’m not starving myself anymore, if that’s what you mean. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

Peter looks at you for a long time, as though trying to figure out whether or not you’re lying, and then gives you a slow nod as he leans against the wall next to you. “What happened in there?” he asks quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Nothing.” You drop your gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. If you do, you think you might break into tears.

“Y/N, you can talk to me.”

Sighing slowly, you glare at the ground. “I just…I couldn’t breathe. I–everyone was staring at us. I didn’t want to-to stay in there and let them gawk at me like I was some animal in a zoo. Like I was some…” you grit your teeth, voice shaking, “some beast that they were looking at through glass.”

He hesitates, and then, sounding shocked, “Is that how you feel?”

Part of you wishes he would leave, so he wouldn’t see you cry. “That’s how I’ve always felt, Peter. Why–” You shudder as your voice breaks. “Why do you think I did this?” You look up at him, blinking tears out of bloodshot eyes. Slowly, you sink into the grass, ignoring the fact that the rainwater is seeping through your tights, and draw your knees to your chest.

He doesn’t say anything, just kneels next to you and holds you in his arms when you finally break into shaking sobs, your breath stuttering as you try to hold them back. But you don’t think there’s any part of you that can fight it anymore, and the tears just fall in a torrent of frustration that you haven’t let go of in far too long. The saltwater streaks down your face and soaks his hoodie, and he runs his fingers through your hair, hugging you against his chest and resting his chin on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup when the sobs finally slow, your voice muffled by his body.

Peter shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “You don’t deserve to feel this way.”

“Maybe I do.”

“You don’t.” His voice is insistent as he cups your cheek with his hands. “You don’t deserve this. You’re beautiful.”

He sounds…honest. You meet his eyes, and sincerity is all you can see. Something inside of you swells. “I haven’t…no one’s ever said that to me.”

“They should.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t hold just anyone as their tears totally soak my favorite shirt, you know,” he teases.

A watery chuckle escapes your lips, and he grins, looking a little proud of himself.

“I guess it’s a good thing I wore waterproof mascara,” you joke, wiping the wet tracks away from your face with a sleeve and sniffling. It earns you a laugh.

“Do you…want me to walk you home?” he offers as you pick yourself off the ground.

You shake your head. “I think I’ll stay a while. Someone’s got to keep Becca from making a total fool out of herself,” you say, taking a deep breath to compose yourself and then starting to walk towards the party.

He chuckles. “I’ll stay for a while, too, then. But, uh, Y/N? One more thing.”

“Yeah?” You turn around.

A flash of nerves crosses his face before his hand wraps around your waist, the other one resting in your hair, and he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and his lips taste better than anything you’ve ever forced yourself not to eat, and it’s Peter and your heart’s never soared this high and you think he might just be the person to fix you.

anonymous asked:

Deputy Stiles or Derek?

We recently added to the deputy!Derek tag here. So, here’s an update to our deputy!Stiles tag! - Anastasia

Originally posted by darlingiamobsessed

Quiet, Loving by rogersrabbit

(1/1 I 300 I Teen)

Derek has a tough day at work.

Overslept by mikkimouse

(1/1 I 707 I Teen)

“You okay, kid?” his dad’s voice said.

Stiles wiped a hand over his heavy eyes. “Yeah, fine, why?”

“Because your shift started an hour ago and you didn’t call in.”

Honey I’m Home by clotpolesonly

(1/1 I 830 I General I Sterek)

Derek’s got messy hand prints and swirls and smears all over his torso, with a few things that look like heartfelt attempts at farm animals. He’s also got blue finger paint in his beard. And glitter in his hair. Like, a lot of glitter.

He Seems to Like Me by tabbytabbytabby

(1/1 I 2,547 I General I Sterek)

Stiles has 2 cats, Merlin and Rory. Merlin loves people. Rory is a little more shy and avoids anyone that isn’t Stiles. Which is why it’s so surprising when Rory starts greeting Derek at the door.

Just a Hobby by kaistrex (weishen)

(1/1 I 3,009 I Teen I Sterek)

Five times Deputy Derek shelters his partner from the world of the supernatural and the one time he discovers he’s just been making a fool of himself.

put ‘em together and what have you got? by yodasyoyo

(2/2 I 11,162 I Teen I Sterek)

“Oh, bibbidi bobbidi fuck you.”

Unsurprisingly, Stiles’ fairy godmother is a menace.

W: Wait by brokxnharry

(1/1 I 15,408 I Teen I Sterek)

“ It took me ten years to stop punishing myself, by punishing you. To, forgive, maybe, a portion of all the shit that happened, and understand, that I’ve lost enough. I’ve sacrificed enough. That, I don’t need to give you up too, so that some greater power spares me, or those I love. Even now, ten years later, I’m standing in front of you, and I’m terrified, fucking scared shitless, that something bad will happen, that I’ll end up losing you anyway. But I’m here. And I’m not leaving again. It doesn’t matter, if I have one day left with you, or, one lifetime. I’ll take it. However long it may be, I’m spending it with you.”

“ What if I don’t want you to?”


Derek comes back, ten years later, and everything changed, but he still feels the same. Stiles doesn’t know how to tell him, he’s felt nothing else since.

Gym Rats by i_am_girlfriday

(6/6 I 49,762 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles spots Derek at the smoothie shop across the street from the gym early on a crisp April morning, it’s not even 7 AM yet. For some reason, and Stiles will deny it has anything to do with Derek in joggers, he decides that maybe this is the perfect chance to introduce himself.