train harder than me

Tonight, The Focus is on You

Summary: It’s late at night and in the midst of getting yourself a cup of tea you hear Bucky making some mysterious noises in his room.

Warnings: smutty smut, masturbation, fluffish, Sergeant kink, metal hand kink

A/N: I’m sitting at my kitchen table writing this and I can wholeheartedly say that writing has taken over my life and I love it. I’ve had to awkwardly click off this page so many goddamn times because my family keeps walking behind me and guys it’s so uncomfortable.

You picked up your cup of tea and strutted down the hallway. You were wide awake, another nightmare had plagued your dreams and woken you up panting. You hoped the cup of tea in your hand would soothe you, stopping your body from shaking, and help you fall back to sleep.

You slowed down as you passed by each door, not wanting to wake up anyone up. You stopped outside of Bucky’s, tempted to go inside. You wondered if he was awake, if he’d hold you and listen to the details of your nightmare. You nearly dropped your cup when you heard the faintest moan through the door.

Shit!” The word slipped passed Bucky’s lips, it was barely audible through the thick wood keeping you out. You pressed your ear too the door, desperate to hear more. “It feels so good, fuck…” Another moan left him as you heard him drop down onto his mattress.

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anonymous asked:

My dude, just wanted to thank you because you inspired me to go to the gym for the first time in five years. I've been following you for a long time, and every so often I'd see you post about watching fullmetal alchemist while exercising. It occurred to me this week that I could do that too, so here I am, sweaty after doing three miles on the eliptical to the first two episodes of boku no hero, and I feel great. Thanks yo.


BNHA is a real good fit for treadmill-running like. I watched all of FMA:B on the treadmill and also all of BNHA and the difference is this:

FMA:B -some terrible conspiracy shit goes down, punctuated with hilarity-
me: Oh man, the really good balance of tension and humor and beautifully woven plot are helping me distract myself from the fact that I’m running. 

BNHA: -Deku training montage, dramatic speech about working harder than anyone else to achieve greatness-

Julian Calls Up Great Aunt Marjorie To Give Her A Piece Of His Mind for Calling Dru A Butterball( He found this out from Emma)
  • <p> <b>Julian :</b> Hello Great-Aunt Marjorie, I was wondering if you had a minute......<p/><b>Marjorie :</b> oh sure, Julian is it? The lanky one ?<p/><b>Julian :</b> Yeah, that one. I just wanted to clarify that you. Don't. Ever. Get to insult my baby sister and tell her she is not as pretty as other girls.<p/><b>Marjorie :</b> I don't appreciate this kind of direct behaviour from you and on the matter of Drusilla, as her brother maybe you should keep an eye on your fat sister's eating habits and....<p/><b>Julian :</b> Excuse me !!! How DARE you ? My sister trains harder than any shadowhunter of her age and as for her eating habits - She eats just fine. It's none of your bloody business.<p/><b>Marjorie :</b> JULIAN !!!!! What's happened to you? I only want what's best for her....<p/><b>Julian :</b> Well then, you'd better leave us alone.<p/><b>Marjorie :</b> I'll never forgive such crude attitude ....<p/><b>Julian :</b> And I'll never forgive you for making my beautiful sister feel any lesser than what she is. I'd thank you for our stay in London, except it did more damage than good to my family and there seems nothing to thank you for.<p/><b>Marjorie(shouting) :</b> I'LL HAVE YOU.....<p/><b></b> (Julian hangs up.)<p/></p>
Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews (Part 3)

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 1284

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, sex

[Part 1] [Part 2]


You hold your breath, waiting for Auston to move, to say something else. The air around you feels like it will burst at any moment.

His hand moves from you ear to cup your jaw. His thumb rubs gently across your cheekbone, and you close your eyes, savouring his touch.

Before he can do anything else, before he can lean across and close the distance between the two of you, you whisper: “Auston.”

“Yeah?” His voice is low, raspy.

“Not now. Not like this.” You open your eyes to look at him.

For a second, a flicker of disappointment crosses his face, but then he nods. You’re both drunk. “Okay.”

“We should probably head back anyways.” You hit the home button on your phone. “It’s already 1am and we have a morning skate again tomorrow.”

He groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

You stand up, shoving your wet feet into your flip flops. You hold out your hand and help Auston up. He wobbles slightly.

“How much did you have to drink?” you tease him.

“Oh, shut-up. I’m a big guy, I can handle my liquor.”

“Yes, you big strong men and your beer.”

“Somehow I don’t think you mean that as a compliment.”

You laugh, and after he slides his shoes back on, you two begin your way back to camp.

When you reach the end of the dock, Auston stops.


Auston doesn’t say anything, and you look up at him, confused. In the dark, you can barely make out the flush that has spread across his cheeks.

“I’mscaredofthedark,” he says so low and quickly you don’t understand at first.

“You’re scared?”

He nods quickly, avoiding your eyes. Your heart squeezes.

“Okay - okay, that’s fine. I’m here.” You reach over and grab his hand and lace your fingers through his. “I’ll lead the way.”

He grips your hand tighter and nods. Then, the two of you walk, hand in hand, all the way back to the campgrounds.

When you reach the middle part of the path that separates the male cabins from the female cabins, you give his hand a squeeze before letting go.

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” You shove your hands in the pockets of your jean shorts and rock back on your heels awkwardly.

He coughs. “Um, yeah. I guess you will.”

“Goodnight, Auston.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiles softly, and you turn around, creeping quietly up the stairs to the cabin.

The room is dark, and you blink several times as your eyes adjust. You can just make out the sleeping form of Steph curled underneath her blanket.

You quickly pop over to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and your hair before sneaking back to the bedroom and climbing into bed. But apparently you weren’t as quiet as you thought you were, as Steph turns over on her side to face you.

“What time is it?” she asks sleepily.

“I don’t know, like 1:30 or something? Sorry for waking you.”

You hear her comforter shift as she moves. “Nah, I was in one of those half-dream, half-awake kinda states. Couldn’t really sleep until I knew you were back safe.”

Guilt overwhelms you. “Listen, Steph…”

“I’m sorry.” She beats you to it. “I know how important hockey is to you, and I know making the CWHL has been your goal since you were a toddler. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Steph, no. No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that and accused you of being lazy and not working hard, because you train harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You inspire me every day to be a better person. I just…I need to find a balance between life and hockey. I get it now. I really do. And I’m -”

“Y/N, I forgive you.”

You blink back tears you didn’t realize had welled up in your eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah, you big idiot. You’re my best friend, I’m not gonna let some stupid fight come between us.”

“Thank goodness. I’d thought you’d hate me forever.”

You can’t see her face, but you know Steph is rolling her eyes. “Never. Hockey buddies forever, remember?”

You reach across the dark stretch of space between your beds and hook your pinky finger with hers.

“Hockey buddies forever.”

You roll back over onto your back, tired and ready for sleep. You close your eyes and feel yourself begin to drift off.

Steph has other plans, though. “So where did you go anyways? I didn’t see Auston at the bonfire.”

“Hmm, strange,” you mumble, feigning nonchalance.

“Yeah, it certainly is strange, considering you weren’t there either.”

“Very strange.”

“You’re gonna tell me, right?”


“Y/N,” she says sternly.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you, but in the morning. Just let me sleep.”

Steph makes a satisfied noise and you snuggle deeper into your comforter, pretending that the soft cotton is instead a set of strong arms wrapped around you.

Morning comes much too early, yet again. You wake to the sound of your alarm blaring across the room, feeling groggy and disoriented after barely four hours’ sleep. You and Steph get up, take one look at each other, and say: “Coffee.”

After rushing through getting ready, you and Steph quickly grab two cups of takeaway coffee from the mess hall before racing onto the bus last minute. The driver glares at the both of you.

“You’re late. Next time, I’ll leave without you.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again,” you apologize.

“Better not.” The bus driver humphs and turns away.

You and Steph roll your eyes at each other and make your way to the back to sit down.

You’ve not taken more than two sips of coffee before Steph demands you tell her everything that happened last night.

“There’s really not much to tell,” you say, hoping she’ll give up and ask you later when you’re more awake.

“Liar. You’re blushing again.”

“No I’m not!” you deny, even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m just getting all red because you’re confronting me about nothing!”

“Uh-huh. So kissing lover boy counts as nothing?”

“We didn’t kiss!”

“Oh, so you were with Auston last night. Now you’ll admit it.”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, looking nervously around at the other girls on the bus.

Steph grins, having way too much fun embarrassing you. “So what did you do then?”

“We went for a walk.” You stare straight ahead, trying to avoid eye contact and accidentally prolonging the uncomfortable conversation.


“To the dock.”

“And what did you do by the dock?”


“About what?”


“Seriously, that’s it? C’mon, there’s gotta be more to it.”

“Nope. It was strictly platonic, just two people chatting by the lake.”

Steph narrows her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

You turn to look at her, putting on your best straight face. “We talked about hockey, and how he broke his femur last year, and how he also struggled with balancing life and hockey. He gave me some really good advice actually.”

“Oh,” Steph says, her face surprised. “Oh. None of my drunk conversations with a boy have ended up like that.”

“That’s because every boy you talk to when you’re drunk is a fuck boy.”

Steph frowns, considering this. “Yeah, why do I do that?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know Steph, I don’t know.”

“I’ve got to get better at finding nicer guys, who don’t just want to get in my pants and actually want to talk to me.”

Alexis, hearing the tail end of your conversation, leans across the bus aisle. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

[Part 4]

sep 3, 2017 //

the only footage i got from last night was when the DJ asked all of the novice skaters (me and most of the ppl in attendance) to leave the floor and allow the more experienced do trains. its harder than it looks but one day this’ll be me 

Let’s take a moment and look back
at every single moment that led to you.
sometimes i think about how i fell in love with your laugh and the color of your eyes..
and i remember this specific moment where i felt it.. the raw emotion
it hit me harder than a moving train
i was hugging you and I was closing my eyes breathing, taking in your scent and i was thinking about our last moments together and i was trying so hard not to cry because i realized what this was..i was in love with you and i was scared to lose you.
—  raw (214 out of 365)
The Artist, pt. 2

RivaMika Week 3.0

Day 1 (Forget-Me-Nots) // Prompt A (True Love) 

continuation of this fic

A/N: Well, it’s 1:29 am on June 16 so it’s a bit late… ha. Anyway, I pulled this outta my ass and I apologize. 

He holds his cup in a curious manner – with his grip on the cup’s rim and the cup hanging below his hand – but Mikasa feels like she’s seen it once before. He takes a sip of his water and Mikasa watches with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down and the water disappears down his throat. She doesn’t see the light blush on his cheeks when he tells her, “Stop staring at me.”

“Sorry.” She returns to eating her sandwich.

The two are seated on the floor of an unfamiliar school where the art competition is being hosted, eating lunch and trying not to feel as if the air is being sucked out of their lungs. Mikasa’s eyes flick over to the boy, and the longer she stares at his slumped shoulders and the way his hair hangs over his face, the more he begins to look like her dream stranger, the more she feels like they’re both in a forest and covered in blood.

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“This is my barbell. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My barbell is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

My barbell, without me, is useless. Without my barbell, I am useless. I must lift my barbell true. I must train harder than the competitor who is trying to beat me. I must set personal records before he sets personal records. I will…

My barbell and I know that what counts in the gym is not the reps we lift, the noise we make while training, nor the muscle we build. We know that it is the strength that count. We will get stronger…

My barbell is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its knurling and its give. I will keep my barbell chalked and ready, even as I am chalked and ready. 

We will become part of each other. We will…

Before God, I swear this creed. My barbell and I are the enemies of weakness. We are the masters of our gym. We are the saviors of my life.

So be it, until personal records are smashed and there is no competitor left standing.”