supposed to be down today or something

Lunch

Phil’s looking for his friend, but Dan’s hiding in a fun place…

Phil placed down one of the heavy lights he would be filming with. He dug his phone from the elastic of his pj pants and checked the time. It was already after 12! He and Dan were supposed to film something for his channel today and if he wanted to edit it all in time for an evening upload then he needed to film now. He’d already put on a nice button up and everything was set up in his room. All he needed now was decent lighting and Dan, one of which was missing. He’d checked the bedroom, the den, even knocked on the bathroom door to see where his curly-haired friend was hiding. When he came up with nothing, he finally broke down and went to bother you, something he hated doing.

You were sitting in the kitchen, headphones in, doing something on your computer. Your face was serious but a little unfocused, whatever you were watching was capturing your full attention. Phil hoped he wasn’t going to put you in a bad mood by interrupting what you were doing. “Hey y/n.” You seemed startled to see him standing in the entrance of the kitchen. Both your hands had been in your lap but one shot up and quickly clicked out of something on the computer while the other pulled out one of your headphones. “Oh hey Phil. What’s up?” Phil smiled sheepishly, kind of messing with the huge light he’d brought in with him. “Nothing, just looking for Dan.” You gave him a teasing smile, “The flat’s pretty small, Lester. How hard can it be to find your friend?” Phil’s neck grew hot and he started sputtering, feeling like an idiot for losing his best friend. You laughed at him and it only made it worse. “I’m kidding, man. Dan stepped out a little earlier for something,” you said. Your eyes kept drifting between the computer screen and Phil, and you were biting at your lip every few moments.

Phil was going to kill Dan! He’d been telling his friend about this video for a week now! Even reminded him last night that he was supposed to film today. And now he was deciding to run errands? “Well there’s no use being upset over it now. Any idea when he’ll be back?” Phil sighed. You were looking back at the computer again but paid attention to Phil when you remembered you were still having a conversation. “Oh! Um, well he uh, I think he said t-that he’d be back by like one today.” Your voice shook with every word. Phil thought you were acting super strange, but you’d given him the information he needed so he wasn’t in any position to question it. “Cool thanks. Y/n…are you feeling alright?” Phil knew it was rude to pry, but he was worried about your odd behavior. You nodded, your face now flushed and your breathing pretty heavy. “Okay then I’ll see you later.” He picked up the light and was back down the hall toward his room, wondering why you had been acting so weird.

You waited until Phil’s door was shut before dropping the facade and sinking down into your chair. Your hands fell back beneath the table and threaded through soft brown locks. The video playing quietly on your computer ended. “You think he knew something was up?” You looked down between your legs at Dan’s smirking face. “Oh he definitely knew something was up, I just doubt he knew it was me eating you under the table.” He turned and crawled from underneath the place where had dinner, sitting down shirtless in one of the dining room chairs. His lips were swollen and there was a noticeable tent in his boxers. You shut your laptop and clucked your tongue at him. “Well either way that was entirely too close,” I hit his shoulder, “and bad friend Dan! Hiding from your friend and making me lie to him!”

“Well you could’ve just told him I was busy with my lips around your-”

“You don’t have to tell me about it I was there!”

You shut the laptop and plopped down in Dan’s lap, right over his hard cock. You grasped the back of his neck and kissed his lips softly. His tongue slid into your mouth so you tasted yourself, and his hands moved your hips over his. When you pulled away he looked even more turned on than before. “Well, I know you’ve got a video to film with your friend.” You hopped off of him and picked up your laptop. You started walking toward the living room. “What so we’re not gonna take care of this?” He called behind you. “Maybe after you’re done, but right now your friend needs you more than you need me so go get dressed.” With that I left him sitting in the kitchen high and dry.

Dan looked where you had just been standing for a few seconds then looked down at his problem. “Seriously?”

A/N: God I could write about Dan going down on me all day

anonymous asked:

Liam seemed happy about the win but angry about something else. Everyone thought Niall traveled to London to go, Louis was supposed to go, there was more than one rumor putting them there, together... and Simon looked like he thought he was accepting it alone until Liam appeared and grabbed the mic. I wonder if Nouis had been planning on accepting but got stopped and Liam found out and went himself (without Simon knowing)

That’s kind of what I’m thinking. Liam did look irritated, didn’t he?  And he wasn’t dressed for it.

I don’t know, but I think some shit went down today and Liam, as the only one without direct ties to Syco or their minions, swept in like Batman to save the day from whatever blather Simon was going to spew at us and them.

God bless him!

Happy Anniversary, OTP!

It wasn’t exactly 2004, it was January 2005 or possibly at another life…

But it’s okay, it’s been over 12 years of love so emotion makes us prone to slips.

The important thing is that you have a fond memory of the moment that changed your lives forever. You remember time and place and even what was said…

It was such a turning point in both your lives you just couldn’t shut up about it. Even your friends knew what was going on…

And then it all started.

“I think the reason Jensen and I got along so well was because we didn’t really go about bonding… It didn’t feel like a blind date. It felt like we were continuing a relationship as opposed to saying, ‘All right, we’re supposed to hang out with each other…’ or something. We just sort of hung out… We just hit it off immediately. There’s no rhyme or reason to what happened.”

Yes, we noticed…

It was kinda hard not to…

It was just so much love…

So, so much love…

That some people freaked out and measures were taken…

It was a hard blow…

With huge emotional side-effects…

That until today you still have to deal with….

It wasn’t easy…

All the hiding…

Until one day, you were able to put your foot down and one important battle was won…

A new chapter started, where yes, there was still hiding, but not so much…

Words were spoken…

Sometimes not so much but we got it anyway…

And the eyes…. Ah, the eyes…

It was clear you were IT for each other, that you were THE ONE:

That despite all the deflection that still has to be made, you are as much a married couple as I’ve ever seen…

Then you showed us that PADACKLES that has always meant PADALECKI & ACKLES only, extended to PADACKLES FAMILY:

It hasn’t been easy these past 11 years…

But what a 💞RIDE 💞they have been! 

What a 💖JOURNEY💖! 

💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓

God has given you the gift of True Love and finding your Soulmate in this life. You were wise enough to realize that NOTHING should be more important than true love. You sacrificed a lot and you were absolutely right. The moment you realized that you had found the love of your life you cherished him and did everything in your power to nurture and preserve this relationship. I couldn’t have been more proud. I wish you LOVE and PEACE and that one day you don’t have to hide. I wish you COURAGE and that you do not listen to any voices but the ones coming from both your hearts. You made me believe True Love exists. I will be forever grateful. 

Long Live THE EPIC LOVE STORY OF JENSEN AND HIS JARED!

A Little Like Whiplash

(based on this, part two of this, Russian translations under the story itself) 



Jonathan isn’t generally a judgemental person. He likes to think that he sees the best in most people, even if they don’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s never been able to do that with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian bombshell that nobody knows or cares to know because he’s terrifying and has a tendency to be an asshole.

He has the distinct impression that Yuri, despite clearly not being a scholarship kid (he’s wearing designer everything, and he drives a Maserati; there’s no way that he came to Portland State for any reason other than that he wanted to), would rather be anywhere but here. He sleeps through the two classes that he shares with Jonathan, and for some reason, the professors allow it. If he was a bit less of an antisocial shit, though, Jonathan would probably have a crush; for all his faults, Yuri is one the most attractive person that he’s ever seen outside of magazines with his immaculately braided, waist-length hair and pouty lips and perfect eyeliner (Jonathan is sure he’s the only one that’s noticed that last bit; the subtlety of it is the reason it’s so damn perfect).

The first time he ever actually says anything, it’s one of those days that the professor decides, for whatever reason, not to show up for class. Until the fifteen minute limit passes, the class hums with a low buzz of noise. Yuri, predictably, is asleep.

Jonathan has a few friends in this class, Anthony and Thomas, and they’re chatting quietly about the baseball game on Saturday. Somehow, the topic shifts to that one asshole that’s always sleeping through class.

“Fifteen minutes!” The girl by the door calls out, and the class gets up.

“I’m just saying, why pay for the classes if you’re just gonna sleep through them?” Anthony says, shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

There’s a snort from behind them. Veronica. Jonathan really doesn’t want to deal with her right now; she’s even worse than Yuri, if only because she isn’t quiet about her disdain for the rest of them. “You know they only accept applications from people like him because he’s part of a minority, right?”

When she sees Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she mistakes his irritation for curiosity. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t tell. He’s a goddamn fairy.”

He’s wondering if outing himself here and now would make the situation better or worse when there’s an angry “Huh?” from behind them. The loud bang that follows terrifies all of them, but particularly Jonathan, Veronica, and the other two. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed that Yuri was awake, much less that he was nearby. Now his foot is against the wall, not even an inch from Veronica’s head (flexible, Jonathan can’t help but think). The look on his face pumps shards of ice through Jonathan’s veins.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” he growls.

His voice is different than Jonathan would have expected; maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, but he’d expected a low tenor, rather than a mezzo baritone, and his accent is there, but not nearly as thick as Jonathan expected. He stalks out of the room dangerously, and the entire class just stands there in shock for a moment.

Next week, when Veronica stops coming to class and he hears that she’s been expelled, Jonathan is sure that it has everything to do with the rich guy sleeping two seats behind him.

“Jonathan, there are only three people in your group for the upcoming term paper,” the professor says, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts. It’s true; he, Anthony, and Thomas are planning on working together, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Now that Veronica is gone, that’s not true anymore. “I’m assigning Yuri to your group.”

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

He looks up blearily and mutters something in the most snide, sarcastic voice Jonathan has ever heard– yoroshiku onegaishimasu –before dropping his head back on his arms. That didn’t sound like Russian, Jonathan thinks, packing up to leave.

Thomas nudges him. “Dude!” he whispers. “He speaks Japanese? What the hell? And I think that was supposed to be polite, but it sounded like an insult.”

“He can also hear you,” comes from behind them. Yuri has apparently given up on sleep since class is over, and has his phone in his hand. The one that isn’t texting reaches behind him and tugs on something that releases the bun he’s sporting today, letting the waist-length braid fall down his back. He leans his face in one hand and stares at his phone boredly. “You three aren’t the most oblivious people I know, but you’re definitely in the top twenty.”

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, really. The hottest, laziest guy in class is in a group with him for a paper that’s worth twenty percent of their grade, and their first conversation has gotten off to the worst start possible.

“So,” Anthony says awkwardly. “When do you guys want to meet up?”

“I’m only free on Tuesdays. Yuri, I’m pretty sure you only have class twice a week? Maybe we can meet up for lunch,” Thomas says, trying a friendly approach.

“I can’t meet up on my days off. I have training. It’s a paper on the Japan’s involvement in World War II and how it affects today, right?” Yuri asks, still looking bored.

“Yeah. What do you mean? Do you practice all day on every one of your days off or something?” Anthony sounds mildly teasing, but there’s an undertone of disbelief there.

Yuri looks at Anthony, as if he can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. “Um, yes? What else would I be doing?”

None of them really has a response for that. Yuri doesn’t look like the athletic type, really. He’s lean, almost willowy; not skinny by any means, since there’s definitely muscle there, but it’s not the build Jonathan would expect from an athlete who practices as much as Yuri claims to.

“Anyway, I’ll deal with the history part,” Yuri says, standing up and stretching. Jonathan tries not to stare at the thin strip of skin that appears when he does. What? He may be an asshole, but Yuri is gorgeous. He’d have to be dead not to notice. “I’ll have it to you by… Tuesday, right?”

“I can do Tuesday,” Jonathan says, not really sure what’s happening anymore.

“So can I.”

Yuri blinks and glances at the table searchingly. “Right,” he says, picking up a sticky note he’d left there and scribbling something down. “Here’s my number. Text me your emails and I’ll send you my part of the project. Bye.”

He walks out of the room, phone already at his ear. “Beka! Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya?

Jonathan looks at Anthony and Thomas, not totally sure what just happened. “So who’s going to pick up the slack on his part?”

That’s not actually necessary, it turns out. Jonathan sent Yuri his email out of courtesy, but when he rolls out of bed on Saturday morning, he finds four pages of 12 point Times New Roman font on Japan’s involvement in World War II, complete with instructions to let Yuri know if there’s anything else that they want him to do (but he won’t be doing the whole damn thing, he doesn’t have time for that).

Except for a few grammatical errors, there’s almost nothing wrong with the work. Jonathan is floored. Maybe this is why the professors let Yuri sleep through class. It’s disrespectful as all hell, but from the way he writes, it’s almost like he doesn’t need to be there at all.

When he’s awake and recovered enough to send a reply, he does. He lets Yuri that there’s nothing wrong with the work, and that he’s looking forward to class on Wednesday. He’s not, but it’s the polite thing to do.

Apparently, Yuri doesn’t planning on extending the same courtesy. “Can’t make it,” he says again, looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

This time, Jonathan actually speaks up. “We could meet up after you’re done with practice or something. It actually works out better for me and Anthony, since we have class on Tuesday.”

“That would work, I guess, but I’m going to be in Japan on Tuesday.” The tone of Yuri’s voice doesn’t change, despite the bomb he’s just dropped.

Why the hell would anyone just up and leave for Japan in the middle of the semester? No matter how rich Yuri is (and he’s definitely rich; they may not know anything about him, but he’s definitely a rich Russian of some sort) it makes no sense. He’s going to miss at least three days of class even if he’s only going to be in Japan for one day, which Jonathan highly doubts. He doesn’t care how pretty or smart this kid thinks he is, there’s no way for him to pass his classes with the way he acts.

“Then cancel it.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s saying the words until they’re out of his mouth, and by then it’s too late.

The look that Yuri fixes on him is as dangerous as it was that day with Veronica. “Fuck you.”

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

Yuri’s phone rings, cutting him off. The ringtone in itself is enough to cause all three jaws to drop; it’s some classical thing with a boys’ choir singing in what sounds like Latin. Yuri sneers at them, and Jonathan can’t help but think he may have fucked up pretty bad. “Just send me whatever part you want me to handle for the presentation and I’ll do it. Tell me to cancel my trip again, and I won’t do my bit. I’ll still pass without this stupid project.”

He gets up and stalks toward the door, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to the parking lot now. Shit! Would it kill you to wait a minute and a half, Dad? I said I’ll be there in a minute! Katsudon, get your husband off the goddamn phone when he’s driving. Do you want to die?”

Yet again, there’s this feeling of not really knowing what’s happening by the time Yuri is out of sight. I’ll still pass without this stupid project, he said. That’s almost impossible, unless he has an A in the class. Which he shouldn’t, because he sleeps through it. His participation grade alone should have dropped him to a B unless he’s gotten A’s on every single assignment. There’s no way.

“I need a drink,” Jonathan mutters, and there are murmured agreements from Anthony and Thomas both. “You guys want to go to Shizuku?”

“I’m down.” Anthony says. “Hell, I’ll pay. My treat, after all of that bullshit.”

It’s not even ten minutes to their favorite restaurant by car, but they figure it’ll be easier to walk. There’s no point in driving three cars to get to one place, and none of them are keen on getting their cars out of the student lot right now, since it’s nearly rush hour.

It takes them about thirty minutes to get there, and it’s blessedly empty when they do. There are only a few occupied tables. Still, it seems louder than it usually does, Jonathan notices as they’re waiting to be seated. There’s one table in particular that seems to be making more noise than the rest of the restaurant combined. That makes sense, he thinks, eyeing the back of a silver-haired man’s head. There are a lot of them. At least six, it looks like.

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste.” That voice… it sounds way too happy to be him, but given how the day has gone, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised.

The silver haired guy moves slightly. It looks like he leaned his face on his hand. “Yurio, don’t be rude. You and your friend aren’t the only people at this table, you know. Richard and Estephania are here too, and they don’t speak Russian.”

“It’s fine,” the person on silver haired’s left says. She has long, dark hair that swishes when she shakes her head. “It’s funny to see Yuri so excited about something for once.”

Jonathan gets a partial view of someone with dark hair and a very serious face. It’s almost scary how quickly he realises that he’s being looked at, and he looks Jonathan dead in the eye. The man nods once, then looks away without acknowledging him further.

“Beka? What are you looking at?” A head of blond hair comes into view, and Jonathan finds himself looking directly into the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky.

I fucked up, Jonathan thinks immediately, watching the mirth drain out of Yuri’s eyes almost instantly, replaced with irritation.

“Johnny? What is it– Oh, shit.” Anthony hides behind a menu.

“If you’re stalking me, I swear to god I will shove my silverware up your respective asses,” Yuri says, looking dead serious. “I have more than enough stalkers.”

That’s cause enough for Jonathan to pause and wonder what he means, but then the strangest thing happens. Instead of looking even remotely alarmed, the way any normal person would, the three people with their backs facing toward Jonathan, Anthony, and Thomas all turn at a totally normal, unhurried pace. Two of them, the silver haired man and the Asian looking man next to him, are even smiling.

“Hello!” the silver haired man says, waving. “Are you Yurio’s friends? Here, come sit with us! We’ve never met any of his friends from school before.”

Who the hell says something like that after hearing him call us stalkers? Jonathan thinks, feeling out of his element and way too overwhelmed. There’s really nothing to do but accept, so the three of them walk to the table as a group.

“Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike,” the serious man says to Yuri quietly, probably trying not to be heard.

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

There’s a split second war between Thomas, Jonathan, and Anthony as to who is going to sit next to the scary serious guy. Jonathan loses. It’s fine. He’ll take scary serious guy over angry Yuri Plisetsky any day.

“My name is Otabek. Yuri is my best friend,” scary serious guy says, holding out a hand.

Jonathan takes it hesitantly, but Otabek’s grip isn’t anything but polite. “Jonathan. That’s Thomas, and that’s Anthony. We take American History with Yuri.”

“My name is Victor, and this is my husband Yuuri! Not your Yuri, we call him Yurio,” the silver haired man says. The Japanese man next to him blushes, and Jonathan supposes that he’s the other Yuuri.

“I will shove my knife shoes so far up your ass, Nikiforov, that you won’t be able to sit for a year,” Yuri warns.

“Yurio is our son. We’re so glad Yuri is actually making friends at school, I was worried for a while. I’m sure you know how tricky he can be sometimes,” Victor continues, ignoring the incredibly violent threat as if it happens every day. What the hell did Yuri even mean by knife shoes, anyway?

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan in the slightest that Yuri has two dads; it explains a lot about the whole incident with Veronica earlier this year. What he is surprised about is the fact that Yuri’s dads seem so… nice.

Jonathan isn’t sure if that’s pleasant or terrifying.

“Victor and Yuuri are my figure skating coaches,” Yuri mutters, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything but this.

“Wait, you’re a figure skater?” Thomas asks, looking intrigued; seriously, how that guy manages to be so laid back all the time is– wait, what?

“Is that what you keep missing meetings to practice?” Jonathan asks. Suddenly it all makes sense: the lean muscle, the crazy flexibility and precision it would require to nearly kick someone in the head, the whole random flight to Japan.

The entire table erupts into laughter, even the Hispanic woman and the other man that they haven’t been introduced to yet.

Yuri turns bright red, looking both flustered and annoyed. “Oh, fuck off, all of you. Especially you, Katsudon! You have no right to laugh after what happened with these two.” He points aggressively at the two people Jonathan and the others don’t know.

The Japanese man, Yuuri, is the first one to manage to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Yura. I’m laughing because I know how you feel.” He turns to Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony, still smiling brightly. “He actually medalled at the Olympics last year. He’s won gold for Russia several times, as well.”

Jonathan isn’t the only person at the table with his jaw dropped. The waitress comes by and sets waters in front of the three of them. Even when she leaves, he still can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say. He’s pretty sure that earlier today, he just told an Olympian medalist to cancel a trip to what was probably a competition at the last minute. He wants to die of embarrassment, even if he had good reason.

“He probably didn’t mention it because he’s too angry that he let that Canadian get gold and he only got bronze,” Victor teases. He slings an arm around his husband. “Still, my son and my husband on the podium at the same time! It’s any man’s dream. I’m so proud!”

There’s a scraping noise on the table. When Jonathan looks down, he sees that Otabek slid over a phone with the screen open to a news article about men’s figure skating and yep, there’s Yuuri. And that’s definitely Yuri, but he looks… different. Happy. Jonathan looks from Otabek to Yuri to the article, then back to Otabek. He knows he’s panicking, because there’s nothing he can really say to make himself feel less awkward but maybe someone calm like Otabek can help him out.

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.




Translations (let me know if I need to fix any, I don’t speak Russian) 

yoroshiku onegaishimasu - Japanese - I look forward to working with you (yes, he’s being a sarcastic little shit here)

Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya? - Russian - roughly translates to “we’re still on for lunch today?”

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste. - Russian - Look at the kitten, Beka! It’s so cute! Look at its little paws and tail.

Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike - Russian - I thought you said you don’t have friends in America.

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

Sharpie Promises

Originally posted by escaped-ocelot

Raphael x Reader

Sharpie Promises

Note: I don’t know if I’ll publish this or not, but basically, I’m a ho for TMNT and soulmate AUs and I’ve never seen a TMNT Soulmate AU, so here you go. It’s the 2k14/2k16 turtles btw. Idk. I might do more of these if you guys like it.

Raphael wasn’t human. He had struggled with this, but had eventually come to terms with the fact. He didn’t have a soulmate and he wouldn’t ever find love. Not in a world full of humans. He tried to be all right with it. Keyword: tried.

It wasn’t until he was working out one day that he felt something cold and wet travelling across his left forearm. Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. He removed his three-fingered hands from the weight he had been lifting and sat up to examine it.

Hi.

Messy black letters written in Sharpie. His green eyes narrowed. What was this? He had never felt or seen anything like this. But there it was, plain as day on his arm. He stared at it, afraid that the words would disappear, but no. They stayed right where they were. And then soon after, more appeared from nowhere, as though a ghost was writing on his arm with an invisible marker.

So, it’s like three in the morning here and I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but um, hi.

A long pause. Raph stared in amazement, too shocked to say anything.

You’re probably asleep, aren’t you? Dammit. Well, um…bye, I guess.

He had never run so fast in his life.

“Woah, woah, watch it!” Donnie raised his arms as Raph pushed his chair away from his station and grabbed a Sharpie, pulling off the cap between his teeth and scrawling in the empty space on his arm.

Wait.

***

Your heart raced as a response finally appeared.

Wait.

Big, messy letters that you could tell had been written in a rush.

I’m here. Who are you? What’s happening?

You stared at the letters, the handwriting. Your stomach dropped, the nerves kicking in. This was it. This was your soulmate. You had no idea how this worked. No one did, but it worked, and that was all that mattered. A magical pen-pal from far away, probably. Why anyone would be up at this ungodly hour besides you was beyond you. But now you had to reply. You turned over your arm to write back.

I’m (Y/N). Your soulmate, I think. I don’t know…this is what everyone else does, but I’ve always been too shy to try.

***

Soulmate.

Raph’s heart skipped a beat when the word was written on his arm. Soulmate. He had a soulmate. He actually had…Oh my God.

“Raph, are you crying?” Mikey asked, looking up at his older brother, whose eyes certainly looked a little misty.

“N-no. I just got dirt in my eye. Go away.” He sniffled and smiled.

“Whatcha doin’?” the youngest turtle looked over Raph’s shoulder and scanned a few words before he raised his arm far above Mikey’s head, but he had already seen it. Soulmate. “You…you have a soulmate?”

“I guess so.” Raph shrugged. By now, Donnie and Leo were paying attention to what was happening.

“You have a what?” Donnie’s head snapped around. He pulled down Raph’s arm to examine it. But there it was, plain as day. What the internet described as a ‘soulmate exchange’. “I didn’t think it was scientifically possible for you…for us to have…”

“Are you serious?” Leo came over to look.

“What do I look like? A freakin’ museum?” Raph snapped. “Now go away. I gotta write ‘er back.” The others gave him some space as he walked over to the couch and sat down, the tip of the Sharpie hovering over his green arm.

Soulmate, huh? Did think I had one of those. Name’s Raphael. Nice to meet ya.

***

What are you, a renaissance artist? Lol JK

Something like that.

So where are you from, Mr. Renaissance Artist?

New York, New York.

Seattle, Washington. Well, this might be a little complicated, huh?

Something like that…

***

You wrote to Raphael until the sun came up and then you crashed. You had thought it was a dream until you saw the words written there the next morning. You had a soulmate. His name was Raphael. He was from New York.

But at least he existed. It could be a lot worse.

It wasn’t until about noon, three o’clock there, that you wrote to him again, after having wiped your arm off to give you more room to write.

Good morning.

You wake up at noon?

Only when I’m up until sunrise talking to my soulmate.

Fair enough.

So how’s your day been?

Overwhelming.

Fair enough.

***

Leo, Donnie, and Mikey were all bunched behind Raphael to watch.

“Go away!”

“Dude, we just wanna watch.” Mikey whined.

“Go! Away!”

“All right, sheesh,” Donnie walked back to his lab, and Leo and Mikey reluctantly walked away.

So…

He wrote.

What’cha wanna talk about?

I don’t know.

What’s it like in Seattle?

Rainy. What’s it like in New York?

Noisy. He replied, a smirk spreading across his scarred lips. How old are you?

Seventeen.

Same.

Nice. How tall are you?

Like 6’5”-ish.

Holy shit! You’re gonna have to bend down to kiss me.

Kiss you. He was going to kiss you. Eventually. A new concept. Butterflies spread through his stomach, but he tried to play it off.

You a shorty?

Compared to you, yeah. Always had a thing, for tall guys, though. No worries. ;)

He smiled.

Got any hobbies? You asked.

Ninjitsu, bein’ a giant mutant turtle, etc…

Uh, I knit sometimes. And I work out. A lot.

Mr. Muscles the Knitting Renaissance Artist. You keep getting better and better.

So what do you do for fun, Shorty in Seattle?

Oh you know, read, write, spend ungodly amounts of time on the internet.

Sounds fun.

It is. So, anyways, I’ve been looking into New York travel recently (and by recently I mean right now immediately) for reasons, you know. Anyway, what area of New York should I travel to in…ten months when I go to college (that I’ve just applied to) there?

***

After a long day of talking to you and patrolling and trying to work out, Raph was exhausted. He laid in his top bunk, reading your ramble with a smile.

After replying, he knew it was time to go to sleep.

I’m wiped. I gotta sleep.

Oh, okay. Goodnight Raph.

Night, (nickname).

I love you.

His heart skipped a beat.

I love you too.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Already countin’ down the days, babe.

Me too.

***

Weeks later, you got an idea.

So, theoretically, if I were to Skype you, would you pick up?

I don’t have a Skype.

I want to hear your voice.

I can call you, if you want. I just don’t do video chats?

Why?

Because I’m a giant freaking mutant turtle and I don’t want my soulmate to hate and/or be afraid of me.

I want to see you for the first time in person.

All right then. Here’s my number.

You waited in bated breath for your phone to ring, and then suddenly it did. Your thumb hovered above the accept button. You felt like your whole body was trembling.

“Hey there.” You could hear the shaking in your voice. He chuckled, and already you loved the sound of his laugh.

“Hey yourself,”

“Oh my God, I love your voice.” You gushed.

“I love yours too, shorty.”

“Aaaaah! Your accent is so hot!”

“Heh, yeah.” He smiled.

“Ooh, are you talking to (Y/N)?” Mikey asked. “Can I say hi?”

“No, you can’t. Shoo.”

“Who’s that?” You asked.

“My little brother.” Mikey tried to reach up and grab Raph’s phone, but he squirmed away from him. “Mikey, go away!”

“But-!”

“Go away!”

“I wanna say hi to your girlfriend!!”

“Mikey, leave Raph alone.” Leo smirked from across the lair. The youngest brother left, deflated.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Where were we?”

“I was gushing over your very attractive voice, Mr. Muscles.”

“Ah. Right.” He tried not to blush and failed miserably. A slow smirk snuck across his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too!”

***

“Did you get it yet?” Raph called you a few months before you were supposed to arrive. As the day approached, he got more and more anxious. You would be here in New York and he wouldn’t be able to skirt around the truth anymore. He was a giant turtle and you were a human girl. It wasn’t going to work out.

But nonetheless, he had sent you something. Something to remember him by if it didn’t work out, he supposed.

“It came in today! I haven’t opened it yet, though. I’m going to right now. Give me a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

“All right.” Raph listened as you set down your phone and put him on speaker. Then came the noise of you cutting the tape and opening the small cardboard box and sifting through the tissue paper.

“Oh my gosh! It’s amazing! I love it! You really made this?”

“I did.” He smirked. You held up the perfect little pendant. A polished wooden turtle that Raphael had carved himself. It hung from a simple twine string. You put it on immediately, tying the necklace around your neck. You let your fingers run over all of the intricate little grooves.

“I’m never taking it off, I hope you know that.”

“I’m flattered.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see how it looks on ya.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

A nervous little laugh.

“Yeah. Pretty soon, now.”

“It couldn’t come soon enough.” You smiled warmly. “It’s late. I’m gonna get some sleep. Exams tomorrow and then I’m out of school for the summer. And then, only two months until I get to see you.”

“Well, you rest up, shorty. Get good grades. I don’t want ya to fail.”

“Good night. I love you.”

“I love ya too. Night.”

When he hung up, he stared at the ceiling. God, what was he gonna do?

***

You were full of jitters when you landed in New York two short months later. The time had crawled by so slow, but you passed the time. And now you were here, the center of the modern world.

“I’m here! I just landed! When do you want to meet up?”

“Um, how about you get settled? Go to your apartment or whatever. I’ll come over tonight.”

“Okay.” Your heart raced. “Okay. I’ll see you then. I’ll uh, get you the address once I find it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Stay safe. I’ll see ya tonight.”

“See you.” When you hung up, Raph started to pace through the lair.

“I’m going to see her tonight. Oh my God. She’s gonna find out I’m a giant turtle and she’s gonna hate me.”

“Statistically, after ten months of-”

“No more science bulllshit, Don! I’m a freak! She’s gonna run screamin’ and I’ll never see her again!”

“It’ll be fine, Raph. You’re over reacting. As usual.” Leo’s tone was cool, annoyed. “She loves you. We’d have to be blind not to see that.”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight, huh?” He slumped onto the couch, a deep dread setting in. Tonight was not going to be pretty. He knew it.

***

After you had unpacked and met your roommate, a very nice woman named April who had been searching for a roommate for some time now, you called Raph and gave him an address. He asked about how things were and so you told him about your roommate. He chuckled. Well, that might make things a little easier. He told you he wasn’t far and he would be over in a few.

“Who’s that?” April asked after you hung up.

“My soulmate. He’s the reason I moved here, actually. He’s coming here if that’s okay.”

“More than fine with me.” She smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Raphael.” You told her. Her face lit up in surprise. Now the turtle necklace she had complimented you on when you walked in made a whole lot of sense. She doubted that you knew why though.

So this was the (Y/N) he had talked about. His soulmate. Shorty from Seattle.

“Nice name.”

“I know, right?” Your phone buzzed. “Oh my God, it’s him.”

“Hey babe, come outside.” You stood there in confusion for a second. “Fire escape.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be down in a sec.” You nodded, tucking the phone away. Your heart raced as you climbed out the window and down the metal fire escape to the alley below. There, in the shadows stood a very tall, very large silhouette.

“Hey there.” It was him. His voice. In person. “I uh, I need ya to promise me something, gorgeous.”

“What?”

“Just…p-promise you won’t scream.”

“Why would I-?”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” You stated certainly.

“I, uh, I ain’t exactly…normal.”

“I love you, Raph.”

“You won’t when you see me.” His voice was quiet as all of his insecurities came to the surface.

“Raphael,” You reached out for him, hand forward for a long few moments until his three-fingered green one met it, pressing against it like Tarzan and Jane. Something familiar and something foreign. You gasped quietly, but when he moved to pull away, you gripped one of his large fingers. “Please.”

He let out a long sigh, considering bolting then and there, but he gave in and took a few slow, heavy steps out of the dark to where you could see him. Your soulmate was a giant mutant turtle. He waited for the sting of rejection, for the tears of disappointment streaming down your cheeks, but they never came. Instead, you pulled his muscular arms around yourself, clinging to him as though this was your last chance. He held you tight against his plastron, his knees giving out in the wave of relief that washed over him. Raph buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt hot tears against your skin.

Thank you.” A broken whisper from his scarred lips. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” You kissed his cheek and then his forehead, and you lifted his face to look at the green face under the tattered red bandana.

“All ‘uh this don’t bug you?” He asked, tear-filled green eyes searching yours. “You don’t care that I’m a freak?”

“You’re not a freak, Raphael.” The feeling of your soft skin against his face drove him up the wall in the best possible way. “Not to me.”

“Are ya just sayin’ that because I’m your soulmate?”

“I mean it.” You locked eyes with him and he felt as though you were staring into his soul. His smile was the most gorgeous thing you had ever seen. Curiosity sparked behind your eyes as you examined every inch of him, taking him in. “What are you?”

There wasn’t hatred or fear in your voice, only awe.

“I’m a mutant. A turtle. Hence the uh-” he motioned to the necklace around your neck. “That.”

“I love turtles,” You whispered as you kissed his snout. You were so close. So close he could just about…

You closed the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He didn’t know how to respond, but followed his instincts and tried his hardest to kiss you back. His large hands held your hips and your small hands framed his jaw before moving to his shoulders, fingers gently searching the terrain of his shell.

When you finally pulled away from him, you looked at him for a long time.

“Hey do you wanna come up for pizza?” April called down from the apartment window.

“Yeah, sure April. Are the guys coming?”

“Just got off the phone with Leo. They’re on their way.”

“Wait, you two know eachother?” You asked. Raph smiled and shrugged, finally getting to his feet and taking you with him. God, he was so tall.

“We go way back.” April smiled. “I named him.”

“What?”

“Long story. Come on, shorty.” He picked you up off of the ground as if you weighed nothing and carried you on his hip, your feet dangling a foot in the air. “’Bout time you met my brothers, huh?”

***

After you had met his brothers and enjoyed some celebratory pizza, the six of you had settled down to watch a movie. At the moment, Raph was spread out on the couch with you laying on top of him and a cozy red blanket draped over both of you. He nuzzled into your neck as your hands traced gentle circles on his plastron.

“I love you, Raphael.” You kissed his jaw. He hummed contentedly.

“I love you too, soulmate.” The word had never sounded so right.

@turtllinis @turtimagines @turtlebaes @anetteshortie @imagineninjaturtles @imaginetmnt @totally-turtle-imagines @immortal-turtles

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Isak gets shy every time Even calls him babyboy

Hi anon! This has been in my inbox forever and a day. I’m sorry about that- but i hope you don’t mind that I’m stepping into it now? :P

And I’m hoping this comes close to what you wanted?

————————–

It starts out, as most things do, simply.

“Baby, will you pass me the straw?” Even’s voice is unassuming, almost distracted as he picks at his fries- attention half on Mahdi as he’s telling some crazy story about his weekend at the lunch table.

And Isak just… freezes. And flushes. 

And it’s weird- because it’s not even the first time Even has called him baby. When they’re home together, Even uses the pet name more than his actual one. So it’s not like it’s unusual. 

And yet.

Clearly Even can Isak stiffening up beside him, legs pressed together as close as they were, but he just furrows his eyebrows, “Isak? Soda? You said we could share.”

“Right,” Isak responds quickly, face almost completely red and shoves the soda to him. “Here.”

Isak risks a glance upwards from the table he had been studiously studying since the minor slip up.

And fucking Magnus is grinning. 

“Fuck you,” Isak groans, almost as an instinct to anything that Magnus says.

“I didn’t say anything!” But he’s still grinning, dopey and wide and Isak knows that this means his seconds of humiliation are far from over. “But if I did say anything, baby, it would be how cute you two are.”

“No.” Isak points at Magnus’s stupid fucking face, “Nope. That is not happening.”

“What isn’t, baby?”

“I’ll kill you.” 

And then Even’s jumping in, eyebrow cocked and the grin playing on the corners of his mouth, “Sorry, did we miss anything?”

The bastard didn’t miss a damn thing.

Isak shrugs, trying to play it off, “Not at all. I think Magnus was choking.”

Magnus puts his hands up in defeat, but switches topics easily enough.

——–

Eskild and Noora are home.

Which Isak is panicking about because Eskild and Noora specifically said they were not going to be home today. And Linn is visiting with her parents, so Isak and Even were supposed to be alone.

“Hey there, Isak.” Eskild greets, throwing down his keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi,” Isak says, (and fuck is his eye twitching?), “You’re home? I thought you and Noora were going to a gallery or a club or something and you weren’t going to home?”

Noora gives him a weird look, opening the fridge and pulling out a container of strawberries, “It was cancelled because of the rain. What’s your problem? And where is your shirt?”

(Where is his shirt? Noora is fucking lucky that’s the only thing missing-)

Before Isak can respond; before he can even think of a way to quickly usher them back the fuck outside-

“Baby, where’d you go? I thought I owed you a blow-”

Even stops at the foot of the kitchen and thank fucking God he had decided to at least put on underwear when only minutes before he had had none.

The four of them stare at each other in silence.

And Isak. Wants. To. Die.

“Baby?” Eskild finally says, stupidly, before turning to Isak, “That’s so sweet.”

Eskild’s gaze travels back to Even and sweeps down-

Fuck no. 

“Eskild,” Isak says loudly, “sorry you guys, I was promised a day alone and a day alone with Even I will have. Out out out!”

Noora snorts into loudly her palm and turns around, little sounds of mirth escaping. But Eskild is the worst, not moving until Isak has to physically shove him back to the front door. When they are both half out the door, Eskild throws a hand out and in his loudest, most obnoxious voice, “Have fun! Be safe. You two are the fruits of my loins. Love you!”

And that’s just-

Isak fucking slams the door behind them and melts.

Its inevitable, high school is gonna end, we are gonna move to different towns. We aren’t going to see these people everyday anymore, we have six months left together. Six more months of lunches 5 days a week at the same table in the same room in the same school. About 150, give or take a few, days until we graduate and leave this school forever. 4 years of our lives is done. And some people might think that this is a dark depressing thought, that in six months we will leave our best friends behind and move on to another part of our life story. But I think there is a difference between me and someone who thinks this is dark and depressing. You, who thinks this is a dark thought who doesn’t want to hear it, you are probably scared, terrified for the inevitable future that awaits you. And thats perfectly fine, be scared to leave your best friends, that fear is going to drive you to make the most out of these last six months together. Its going to make you want to go out and go to games, dress crazily for spirit weeks, not give a crap about what other people in the school think because you are enjoying yourself for the last time with these people. The difference is I am okay with me and my friends splitting up. I have seven best friends and we hang out all the time. I know that these people are going to be the ones I can count on, these people are going to be with me for the rest of my life, most likely the ones I want to have in my wedding. There is going to be distance put in between us and it will be hard to talk. Seven different people, seven different schedules, seven different towns, finding the time for everyone to talk will be so hard but I’m not worried. These are the people that I know I can count on, that will call me out when I’m lying and will help me through a bad day. I know that we might be able to talk everyday, and I think I’m okay with that because I know that these are the types of people that I don’t need to talk to everyday because  I know that they will always be there for me. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to talk to them, believe me I am, but it means that I will be okay if there comes a point where everyone is too busy to talk everyday. Now with all this being said, and how I am not scared, that doesn’t mean I won’t take advantage of these six months, I will. I will enjoy every moment that we spend together, every lunch, every dinner at my house, every song played on my guitar in my room, every old movie watched together, every car ride blasting music. I’m going to love every minute of it, but I know that I will be okay when it comes to the point where all of that is just a memory. I will be okay when we all  leave, yes I will be heartbroken but I know that we will always find our ways back to each other.
I think more seniors need to understand this. People think when high school is over they end a book, they think of there life as a book series, but its not, its one long novel. High school is just a chapter in it, and just because the chapter is over doesn’t mean the main characters cease to exist. Yes new characters come into the story, but the main ones will always be there, maybe not like they were before, and maybe not in the next chapter, but they will come back into the story. It might be years down the line, but the people who are supposed to be in your life, have a way of coming back. These are your best friends, the people you meet in high school and if your lucky they will be there for the rest of your life.
—  Something I said during my religion class today
Hot Tub Anyone?

Happy Friday! Hello guys! This is the third part of the Hot Shower Anyone / Hot Bath Anyone fic. This was completely a anon’s idea, so thank you! I would love to hear from you if you see this :) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, I got a little blocked on this one, but it’s finally done! Enjoy your weekends! 

Warnings: Read parts 1 and 2 which are attached above, smut kind of I guess like if you squint, implied smut, language,

using this gif again i am NOT sorry

Originally posted by winterdorito

As always, your enemy of an alarm clock woke you from your beloved slumber and with your usual groan, you fell out of bed and slapped the off button on your way by. It was the only defense you had against the morning and it made you feel better to hurt the clock the way it hurt you. Or to pretend that actually worked. 

After changing into the new bathing suit that had magically appeared on your bed a few days ago and grabbing your bag, you headed to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before heading down to the pool to do your laps.

You dragged your feet out of the elevator after it delivered you to the kitchen floor and crinkled your nose when you heard people speaking. Usually no one was up at this hour and you liked it that way. You loved your team, but hated any talking in the morning. 

“Morning, sunshine!” Tony yelled. 

“Why. Why are you so loud.” It was more of a statement than a question. 

You walked over to the counter where your stash of plums sat in a brown bowl. You took a juicy bite and felt Tony’s arm wrap around your shoulders. He kissed the top of your head and whispered an apology, something that would seem nice if you didn’t know he was mocking you.

“I hate to tell you this, kiddo, but the pool is closed today,” he said, handing you a paper towel to help with the plum juice sliding down your fingers. 

“Closed? What do you mean it’s closed? It’s our pool.”

“It’s only closed today, we’re get-”

“We’re gettin’ a hot tub,” Clint sang as he entered the room.

“A hot tub? Why?” You asked.

“HOT TUBS DON’T NEED A REASON!”

“SHHHHHHHHH! It’s the morning, hot shot. We’re supposed to be quiet until kiddo has her plum and swim,” Tony said.

You took another bite of your fruit and shoved Tony playfully. “But seriously, why do we need a hot tub?”

“Somethin’ about how you’re cold all the time,” Clint said.

“What?” You asked with a full mouth.

“We’re getting one installed so you can warm up after your laps instead of racing hypothermia on your way to the shower,” Tony explained.

“It was Barnes’ idea. He said you’re always freezing after you swim in the morning. That’s why he got you that new suit,” Clint said, pointing to you.

“Bucky got me this?” you said, looking down at the mystery suit.

“Yeah. He didn’t tell you? He had it specially made to be super warm. Somethin’ about seal fur,” Clint said, taking a sip of his day old coffee he had found on the counter. 

You looked at Tony for an explanation. He sighed and rolled his eyes at Clint. “It has two layers. The threads of fabric in each layer run the opposite way, so the water never touches any skin that’s covered by the suit.”

“He did that?” you whispered more to yourself than anyone else. 

“I had the SHIELD insignia put on the hip. That was my idea.”

You giggled, taken out of your surprised haze by Tony’s pride. “Thank you, Tony. It really makes it.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

You had just finished your plum when you heard what sounded like the rest of the team walking down the hall to the kitchen. Natasha was followed by Sam and you heard Steve talking to who must have been Bucky behind them. You didn’t wait to watch them come in. You and Bucky hadn’t talked much since the whole bath sharing incident. You blamed it on shyness, even though you didn’t know Bucky to be bashful about anything. But you didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Oh, good. The gang’s all here.”

“Well, you did call a team meeting, Tony,” Steve said, pulling a stool up next to the counter.

“You did?” you asked.

“I waited until you were up.” Your look of confusion prompted him to explain. “You get grumpy if someone wakes you up.”

You breathed out a laugh and rolled your eyes. He wasn’t wrong.

“I wanted to invite you all to the party tomorrow to celebrate the installment of the new hot tub downstairs,” Tony announced. 

“I would think we’d be invited. We live here,” Sam quipped.

“Except you,” Tony said, pointing to Sam. “Everyone else, the party starts at 8. Please don’t be late or embarrassing.”

“We know (Y/N)’s excited, she’s already dressed for the party,” Bucky said, pointing to your bathing suit. Your rolled your eyes and held your tongue.

“She didn’t get the memo that the pool floor was closed today,” Tony defended. 

“Yeah, she was sleeping when Tony told us all,” Steve said, making chuckles echo throughout the room. 

“Why is everyone bashing my sleep patterns today?!”

“Not bashing, just stating a fact,” Steve said over his shoulder as he followed Natasha and Sam out.

“Ridiculous. I get eight hours of sleep. That’s what you’re supposed to get,” you mumbled to yourself as your pulled an over-sized sweatshirt out of your bag and slipped it over your head. When you emerged, the only other person in the room was Bucky.

“They’re just jealous you can get eight hours of sleep. They have to get up before dawn in order to make it to the early bird elderly special,” Bucky said, grabbing plum. 

You laughed, just happy he opted to stay in the room with you instead of taking the escape route. You didn’t like tip-toeing around him and you missed the friendly banter you two always shared.

“Nice suit. Looks warm,” he said, taking a bite of his plum, resulting in juice decorating his chin. 

You smiled and handed him a paper towel. “It just found its way into my room a couple days ago. It’s a great suit, someone put a lot of thought into it.”

Despite the clean paper towel, purple juice ran down Bucky’s chin in a stream. “Jeez, these are ripe, huh?” he laughed, wiping his face. You pointed to a spot on yourself and shook your head when he kept missing the mess. “Here,” you said, taking the towel from him and wiping his chin and cheek. “You’re a slob,” trying to combat the butterflies that took root in your stomach.

He chuckled and thanked you. “Well, it sounds like a mystery suit to me,” he said, bringing the conversation back around to avoid silence. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Well,” he said with a last bite, “Now that Tony’s “very important meeting” is over, I’m gonna go for a run.” He neatly tossed his paper towel rolled pit into the garbage and gave his mouth one last wipe with the back of his hand. “Wanna join? Since you can’t swim today.”

“Oh, no. I do not run.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll just be lonely then,” he said, leaning into you with a fake pout.

“Get goin’,” you said, pushing him away, making him laugh.

You watched him run out of the kitchen into the hallway and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. However, you couldn’t stop the back of your mind from thinking about the hot tub. If it was his idea, maybe he didn’t enjoy being your personal heater as much as you thought he did. 


The rest of the day dragged by. You cleaned and did the laundry that was begging to be done, all the while thinking about Bucky and already feeling nervous about the party the next day, which you felt ridiculous about. There was no need to feel anxious about a party in your own tower. 

It was getting later, but you knew any efforts to sleep would be fruitless with the way your mind was constantly wandering. You decided to take this time to enjoy a book, sitting in a huge leather chair by the window in your room. Miraculously, you were able to stay focused as you ripped through chapter after chapter.  

A few hours later, you were about halfway through your book, your legs tucked up under you, the lights from the adjacent buildings shining through your window when your door opened without a knock.

“(Y/N).”

The voice made you jump. When you looked up from your book and saw who it was, you rolled your eyes. “Bucky. Jesus, can’t you knock? What time is it?”

“Come with me,” he said, leaning on the doorknob, jerking his head in the direction of the hallway.

“Why?”

“Just come with me, doll.”

“But,” you muttered, hesitantly dogearing the page. “I’m almost done with this chapter.”

He lowered his head and breathed out a laugh with closed eyes. He opened your door all the way and jogged over to you. He gently took the book from your hands and laid in on the bed, careful not to loose your page. The next thing you knew, he was lifting you out of your chair and carrying you out the door and into the hallway,

“Bucky! Buck, put me down!” you whisper screamed, scared his shenanigans would wake up the team. 

“But this is fun,” he said grinning at you, as calm as ever.

“James Buchanan Barnes, put me down,” you said as sternly as possible, looking at how far away the ground was.

“Add a “Sargent” to that and I will,” he winked, pressing the button to call the elevator. 

“Bucky,” you hissed and slapped his chest playfully. The hard muscle you felt under your fingertips made you pay more attention to his arms all around you. Bucky was carrying you. You worked to hide your blush and the squeal rising in your chest as the elevator doors opened and he walked inside, still holding you.

“Alright, alright,” he said. He gently put your feet on the ground and steadied you. You immediately missed his warmth and strong arms around you. However, your longing was paused when you saw him push the “P” button when the elevator doors closed. 

“But it’s closed.”

“It was closed,” he winked, one eyebrow cocked high above the other. 

The ground stopped moving below your feet and the doors before you parted to show a ghostly quiet pool room. But now, to the right of the Olympic sized pool, was a large hot tub bubbling away. You also noticed the decorations already in place for tomorrow’s party. Tasteful tiki lights stood tall in every corner, as well as smaller lights hanging low just above the hot tub, mirrored in the water. Flowers paved the way on the shining tile floor and were piled around the walls of the tub and pool. 

You only realized you were staring when Bucky entangled his fingers in yours and started pulling you away from the elevator. 

“Tony said we can’t use it until tomorrow,” you said.

“Technically, it is tomorrow,” he said, looking at the clock on the wall.

You laughed, but you were still concerned, which Bucky picked up on. “Relax, he told me I could bring you down here early.”

“That’s uncharacteristically chill of him,” you laughed, taking a step closer to the tub and watching the lights reflect off the stirring water. 

“Well, it is your hot tub,” Bucky said, easily taking off his shirt by the back of its neck. His golden skin was pulled tight against the lines of his muscles and you watched them move like melted chocolate as he messily pulled his long hair into a bun at the nape of his neck. The next to go was his shorts, which he gracefully pulled off, folded and tossed in the corner on top of his shirt. 

He stood there, one eyebrow cocked high above the other in only his loose, white boxer briefs. When you didn’t move, he strolled over to you until his outstretched fingers grasped at the bottom of your over sized pajama shirt. “Would you like some help?”

“No, I got it,” you said, trying to remember what the hell you had on under these pajamas. 

He smiled kindly at you, nothing teasing or cocky hiding behind his grin, which made the tension drop from your shoulders. As he turned around and stepped into the tub, you pulled your shirt over your head to reveal a grey sports bra. You cursed yourself for not wearing something prettier, but you reminded yourself that you were planning to go to sleep before Bucky came into your room. And that things could be much worse since you did own your fair share of granny panties. 

He has seen me naked, you reminded yourself, as you pulled off your pajama shorts and quickly stepped into the tub. You situated yourself across the tub from him next to a jet. When you looked over to him, he had a sad looking smile on his face. You cocked your head to the side as if to ask what was wrong. 

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I messed this whole thing up.” His usual smirk was gone and he was watching the water swish and slosh around his fingers as he moved them side to side.

“What thing?”

“This.” He gestured to the both of you. “Whatever this is.” He sounded exasperated and you wished he would explain more. You moved to the other side of the tub and sat next to him on the ledge. Only when you grabbed his hand did he finally look at you.

“What’s goin’ on, Buck?”

Through his thick lashes and loose strands of hair, you could see his eyes shining again as the corners of his mouth turned up at you. “I’ve completely fallen for you and you have no idea, doll.” He laughed at your raised eyebrows and continued. “Every time I try to talk about it with ya, someone walks in the room or Tony throws a party or we’re on a mission. But it’s all I can think of to say around ya. That’s why I’ve been so quiet lately, sweetheart. I didn’t want it to slip out at a bad time.”

His fingers were gently running through your hair and rubbing your cheek as he spoke. His eyes floated over your face, like he was taking in your every feature, trying to memorize it for later.

“What’s goin’ on in that head a yours?” he finally asked.

You laughed and finally let free a wide smile you had been holding in. Instead of trying to explain all the happiness and relief you felt, you cupped both sides of his face and pulled him to you. You felt his soft lips smile and begin to play with yours as the kiss deepened.

His flesh fingers ran through your locks with care and held the back of your head while his metal hand slid around your bare back and pulled you closer to him. His smooth skin under your fingertips was practically burning. You pulled away and smiled when you saw his chest and ears turning a deep shade of red. Between the heated kiss and the hot water of the tub, you were both damp with sweat. 

“Let’s move this somewhere cooler, huh?” He said shyly.

He stood up and stepped out of the tub, his wet briefs clinging to his frame. He turned back to you and offered a hand to help you up. You followed him over to the edge of the pool, your small hand enclosed in his. A plan hatching in your mind, you cupped both side of his face and brought him to you for another kiss. When he was just distracted enough, you pushed him with all the strength you could muster until he fell over into the pool, yelling your name.

He emerged from the water to find you laughing, proud of your plan that made things between you feel a little bit more normal. “Well, are you gonna join me?” he asked, his hands swishing in the water to keep him afloat in the deep water.

You laughed lean off the edge, calmly diving into the water in the space next to him. When you floated back to the top, you placed your back against the edge of the pool, inviting Bucky to come closer to you. He balanced his hands on either side of you as you studied him with a smile plastered on your face. 

“What?” he asked, sensing that your mind was whirring.

“Nothin’.”

He leaned into you. “Doesn’t look like nothin’,” he mumbled into your neck, placing kisses on your skin between the words. When he was done, he pulled away to look at you again, causing you to hold in a groan.

“I’ve fallen for you too, Buck.”

His smile grew bright and toothy, but you could only admire it for a second before he kissed your cheek. Running his nose from your jaw to your ear, he mumbled, “Good,” making your giggle. He made his way to your mouth and met your lips gently. His kisses were simple and soft as he held himself up in the water.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to hold the both of you up by the edge of the pool. Tilting your head, you furiously kissed him, growing impatient and more passionate. You could hardly hear his heavy breathing under your thrashing heartbeat. 

“Oh, screw this,” he said against your lips. He turned you around so you could grab onto the ledge of the pool and pulled himself up out of the water, sitting to face you. He pulled you up on his lap with ease, so your legs were straddling his hips.

Once again, his lips crashed onto yours and his hands found your hips, holding onto them tightly. Your fingers found his bun and freed his hair from the tie, tactfully placing it around your wrist and running your hands through his damp locks. Your work made him groan, which your felt rumble through his chest. 

Your fingers traced his skin, working to memorize every inch of muscle and scar by only touch. He pushed your hips around, and you felt his hard member between your legs. The thin fabric of your underwear did little to shield your clit as he rocked you back and forth.

Your whimpers evoked grumbling moans from Bucky’s mouth, only sending you spiraling down the hole with more speed. “Bucky,” you whined. “Let’s-let’s go-”

“Upstairs,” he finished for you.

You pulled away from him, the world slowly turning back into place and then stopping, your mind a little clearer. He was smiling at you with such fondness. He kissed your forehead and you climbed off of him and you both grabbed your things and messily threw enough clothing on to get you upstairs. 

He held your hand and led you over to the elevator which opened right away, ready to take you to your rooms. When you entered, Bucky swung his arms around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. You could feel his heart still pounding. “I love you doll.”

“You looked up at him and grinned. “I love you too, Buck.”

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The male LIs (and a couple non-LIs) of Dragon Age wanted to get together to share their own Valentine’s Day messages with you all. With a little personal touch to start things off by Varric.

As always, all the writing credit for the Valentine’s goes to the ever brilliant and wonderful spicyshimmy!! Go give her a follow and tell her how amazing she is!

And all the voice impressions are done by lightgetsout

We hope you enjoy them and that you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day!

Below is the script for each character’s message:

Zevran: The only leather goods I want for Valentine’s Day this year are your goods in leather. Ahahaha… It is lucky you love me, no? 

Dorian: Let me bring your cold, dead heart back to life this Valentine’s Day.

Fenris: “Take another little piece of my heart now, Valentine–” Varric, this time, you have gone too far. I will not say this. You cannot make me.

Blackwall: I may not be you, but I can talk for hours about how great you are, Valentine. Just ask the Grey Wardens.

Anders: This year, Valentine, I won’t drown the world in blood to keep you safe. I got you some chocolates instead. You’re very welcome. 

Solas: Let the Dread Wolf take you this Valentine’s Day.

The Iron Bull: Romantic plans? That’s all well and good, but where are the chocolates? The little ones with the Orlesian guimauves? And the sprinkles. And the fudge… Ahhhhhh, the fudge. Will there be fudge? 

Sebastian: Neither the heir nor the spare, but you’ve caught my heart in your snare. [chuckles] Varric wanted me to rhyme that with ‘underwear’. 

Alistair: Here, take this down, courtly scholars. Official business. Very important. Ahem. 'Roses are red–I got you one already–something something that rhymes with already. Teddy? Steady? Freddy?’ Do we know a Freddy, and is he romantic? Why are you still writing this down? I’m clearly thinking out loud, it’s not dictation when I don’t–

Cole: Roses are red, violets are blue–blue as deep water, waves lick the sundered shore, stones slapped slick to silence, hull docked on rocks. …Varric wins the bet. I didn’t finish the poem.

Cullen: Nice, ah… Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it? That is– I suppose I should have thought about this before I– Right. Well. Happy Valentine’s Day. If that’s the sort of thing you– Maker’s breath

Tamlen: My love for you is like the Deep Roads–never forgotten, seemingly unending, but lost to the darkness beneath, lethallan

Varric: And I’m still not a love interest. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Made with SoundCloud
Constant | Part 3

Vernon x Reader

2813 words

Synopsis: after returning home from work, you hear Vernon doing some… personal things in the next room over

Warnings: mutual masturbation with a catch

I update this series every Sunday close to 6 pm EST

Part 1 | Part 2

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The Price of Privilege - Part 6 (A Kyungsoo Series)
Murderer.

The word repeated again and again in your mind, taking its own path through your consciousness, it swerved and ducked between what ifs and flat out denials until it faded into obscurity and lost any semblance of meaning.

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free will vs. fate

here’s a quick entry for klanceweek prompt #1: free will vs. fate

i may put these on ao3 if enough people enjoy them but, for now, you can also find them on twitter!

“I can’t do this anymore,” Keith murmurs.

The room is heavy with exhaustion, with the weight of responsibilities. Slouched next to him on the couch, Lance glances at Keith out of the corner of his eye. The words are tired—Keith is tired.

Lance lets his eyes flutter shut. Another mission, another near disaster. Without Shiro at the helm, the team doesn’t function quite as well as it used to. Keith takes more risks than Shiro had, which occasionally works to their advantage. Today, though, is one of the many times it didn’t.

“It isn’t your fault, dude,” Lance sighs. He has yet to remove his armor, and the material feels heavier than ever. “Besides, we all made it out alive. That’s something, right?”

“Aren’t you the person who’s supposed to give me shit for this?”

“You make a good point…” Lance taps his chin, lips pursed. “If you need me to, I can. You don’t have to twist my arm. Actually, please don’t. My right arm hurts like a bitch from where that one meathead Galra pushed me down.”

Keith snorts and leans his head back, exposing the long curve of his neck. A moment of silence settles between them before Keith speaks again. “I’m being serious, though. Leading the team… I’m not cut out for it.”

Lance cycles through a few different responses. Since Shiro vanished, Lance has heard the other paladins offer Keith varying advice. Hunk urging Keith to keep trying, Pidge admonishing him for his disregard for her family, Allura dissecting each of his plans, Coran insisting he’s the best for the job. And Lance… he doesn’t know how to handle the situation. How does he feel about Keith as their leader?

“You didn’t choose this,” Lance starts, carefully considering his approach. “Did you?”

“I guess not. Shiro always said I should take his place if something happened to him.”

“But you didn’t choose to be the big bad leader of your own freewill. You know what I mean?”

“Lance…”

“It isn’t like you’ve been gunning for the position or anything. You took charge because a really close friend wanted you to.” Lance pauses. “I mean, you love Red, right? I know how close Blue and I are. Bonding with another lion after everything you put into bonding with Red—it can’t be easy.”

To his surprise, the corners of Keith’s lips twist into a smile. It reminds Lance of something and, for a moment, he can’t quite put his finger on what it is. But then he remembers. A shaky image, on the fringes of his memory, of Keith regarding him with a soft smile, their fingers interlocked.

The bonding moment, Lance recalls with a start.

“I miss Red so much,” Keith whispers. His voice is strained with longing, and it tugs at something inside Lance’s chest. “But I… I’m the only one who can pilot the black lion.”

An idea strikes Lance, and, okay, maybe it’s stupid. But Lance finds himself blurting, “I can help you.”

Idiot, idiot, what the hell. Lance’s subconscious is screaming at him, and he kindly tells it to leave him alone, geez. Why did he say that? This is Keith; he doesn’t need Lance’s help. Allura would make a much better right-hand man—woman—than him.

“Really?” Keith prompts.

“Uh—I? Yes?”

Lance expects disgust or laughter or, hell, even annoyance. To think someone as useless as Lance would volunteer himself for such an important role is ridiculous.

“That…” Keith trails off and Lance braces himself for impact. “Would be… amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I shouldn’t have even brought it u—wait. What’d you just say?” Lance swears his soul leaves his body. “Did you? What?

“I could really use some help,” Keith explains. There’s a weariness in his voice, and Lance realizes, with everything that’s happened recently, Keith has been hit the hardest. “I didn’t expect you to offer but… I kind of hoped you would.”

Lance must be dreaming. This Keith can’t possibly be the real Keith.

“Me?” Lance squeaks, disbelieving.

“You’re the best for the job…”

Holy shit, Keith is blushing.

“I don’t know about that,” Lance scoffs, scratching the back of his neck. He might be blushing, too. Ugh. “I’m just… you know. Me.”

“Exactly.” Keith’s eyes narrow to angry little slits, almost like he’s offended.

“Keith, my dude, my main man…”

“You can do it.” Slowly, Keith’s smile morphs into a smirk, much like before a practice spar. A wicked glint dances behind his eyes, and Lance feels like he’s going to explode. “Isn’t that right, Sharpshooter?”

Unexpected

pairing: lin manuel miranda x reader

word count: 2300 (did NOT mean for it to be this long)

warnings: swearing

prompt/request: “Hiiii, can I get a lin x reader where they run into each other on the street or something and they’re both wearing the same outfit (like black jeans and gray hoodies(™️️) and red converse or something) and its just really fluffy and stuff? Ok thanks!!” from an anon

a/n: thIS PROMPT WAS SO CUTE AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE. enJOY!!!


Fuck this wind, you thought angrily as you stomped down a New York City sidewalk.

It had been a tough day, to say the least. Your boss was a moron, your co-workers were bitches, and you had started the morning off by waking up half an hour later than you normally intended and, in result, arrived an hour late for work, which earned you glares and lots of scolding – not to mention your laundry hadn’t finished in time, so you were stuck wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and black converse you wore the night before to make a convenience store run.

When you finally got off for lunch break, you knew you needed to get out of there.

You moved your hood down so it was over your face and slid your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. Grey clouds gathered overhead, and the swift breeze whipped hair across your face and into your mouth. Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead. You didn’t want to go back to work, but with weather like this? How the hell was your mood supposed to improve when the weather was so utterly miserable? It would do nothing but make you angrier, and you knew if you got any angrier, you wouldn’t be able to get any work done. You stopped for a second, pulled out your phone, and just began to type in your passcode when –

Smack!

You fell face-first onto the cement.

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syrensongbird  asked:

Who's worse about spoiling the kids between Kara and Lena?

  • ok its like an even split MOSTLY like they’re both huge suckers for their kids but like…….lena is definitely worse.  like she absolutely can’t resist her kids when they rlly want something, like they get the whole pout going and it’s a lost cause she’s like ok what is it what do you need me to get for you 
    • and part of it is that they’ve all got kara’s pout/puppy eyes combo down to a science and they learn v early on that lena is helpless when it comes to that look and that in of itself is just Rude of them to exploit like rlly how is lena supposed to ever survive when she says no we’re not going to the waterpark today and then is faced with like four identical pouts how the fuck is she supposed to say no to that
      • she’s also rlly bad abt just buying every fucking toy she sees and vaguely thinks that one of the kids will like—like it kind of gets better with maia and stella (??  only a little tho and that’s mostly bc she bought a fuck ton of stuff for finn) but when finn is v little she just…..continually brings home new toys for him.  karas like hey honey sweetheart love of my life do you think that we maybe have…..enough toys for an 18 month old i stepped on twelve toys in hall alone
        • but kara this one makes animal noises
    • HERES THE EMOTIONAL PART
      • like lena can bluster abt pouting and educational toys all she wants but here’s the real reason she will never say no to her kids: she’s still super fucked up from her childhood??  and always will be and every interaction she has with her children is colored by her memories from growing up around lillian and she cant remember ever just receiving things, ever just being given toys bc she was a kid and her parents loved her, gifts always came with a price tag, a negotiation, something to be exchanged for lena’s obedience.  sometimes they were used to soothe whatever scar lillian left with her callous words, sometimes they were used to ease the hollow feeling of lionel bailing on career day at her prep school.  the reasons changed, but the fact that nothing was ever freely given didn’t
        • so yeah, she spoils the fuck out of her kids.  she showers them with presents and toys and new clothes and trips to the zoo and planetarium and amusement park bc she can, bc she wants to, bc she loves them and that’s what she tells them when they get a little older and start asking oh!  what’s this for? when she tucks a new book onto their bookcase or drops a new video game onto their bed
        • she just—she needs them to know??  she wants them to have tangible evidence, good memories tied to objects they can hold in their hands.  its silly, she knows, bc she’s so careful in the way she interacts with them and speaks to them (not like stilted??  just v thought out.  she never wants to accidentally say something that might hurt them, never wants them to think she’s anything but supportive of whatever they’re doing) but in the back of her mind she’s still thinking about never feeling like she could trust any gift her parents gave her and she loves the fact that her kids can, that her kids do, that they know that she loves them regardless of the presents, the she loves them even if she misses a soccer practice or has grounded them, that they’re so secure in her love for them that they snap at her and argue with her, that there’s like??  no fear that she’s ever going to reject them, that they know they can do anything and she will always always always still love them, that if they kill someone she will hide the body and take the blame, no hesitation
          • go big or go home lmao
  • ANYWAYS IM CRYING
Bad Moon Rising (Part 1)

Originally posted by iwriteaboutdean

Summary: Jensen and the reader are doing some filming out in the Canadian wilderness when they decide to take a short hike during a break. The only problem is they don’t show up for their scene later that day…

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,000ish

Warnings: language, mild injury

A/N: Enjoy!…


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What Do YOU Want? Pt. 1

A Kwon Jiyong series ft. Kim Jiwon

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2,500+

Summary: The most important person in the world to you can appear most often when you least expect it. But through everything, you can’t forget about you and your own happiness. Who are you happy with? Who is the best for you?

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

Originally posted by peaceminus8ne

Your patience was wearing thin.

It had been nearly 3 weeks since you and Jiyong had spent any time together and it was time to address it. Since you worked during the morning/day at YG and then spent the early evenings in your studio, you made sure that you had all night free and you assumed Jiyong would do the same. But you were mistaken. Again.

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At the very least

Written for @shancefluffweek day 1!

Also on ao3!

1,268 Words


Team Voltron had just finished another training session, Coran praising them from the booth for their performance before sending them all off to the showers.

Keith and Shiro went to stand over Hunk, Lance, and Pidge, who had all collapsed in a celebratory dog-pile on Hunk after he took out the last gladiator with a shot from his bayard.

“Alright everyone, up and hit the showers,” Shiro said, trying to keep a chuckle out of his voice. Keith rolled his eyes at the others but leaned in to help them disentangle themselves.

Pidge rolled off of the two boys and onto the floor, and Keith helped her up. Shiro went over and offered Lance a hand as he slid off of Hunk’s stomach and rolled onto the floor.

“Thanks, Shiro,” he said as he took the older paladin’s hand. But, as Shiro pulled Lance to his feet, he noticed that Lance’s movements seemed ginger.

“You alright, Lance?” Shiro asked, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder?

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Secure 3

A/N:  As always, a thank you to my brilliant betas (who are also amazing writers in their own right.  Go read everything they’ve ever written!):  @little-black-dress-24, @emulateharry, @melissas173, and @niallandharrymakemestrong.  I appreciate you ladies so much!  (And George too!)

Catch up here. 

I swipe at my nose because it tickles, but there’s nothing there. Just ten more minutes of sleep, I think, as I attempt to turn over and snuggle deeper into my bed. Only to sit up straight, terrified at the realization that I’m not in my bed.

Harry is resting his chin on his arms, which are crossed on the back of the sofa where he’s squatting, as he laughs softly at my consternation at waking up in his house. “Get up, Suge! We’re going jogging!”

“Ugh,” I groan, “Can I at least brush my teeth first?” And then I realize I don’t have a toothbrush here.

But apparently just thinking it conjures one up, as Harry, with a goofy smirk, produces a wrapped toothbrush and sample sized toothpaste. Grabbing both, I launch myself from the sofa and make use of the loo, emerging in my wrinkled workout clothes with freshly brushed teeth. My hair is still in its braid from yesterday, so I pile the whole mess on my head and pin it up quickly. Together, we head across the street to Hampstead Heath. A light jog warms us up, and then we continue around the 3.6 mile path.

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