yeah it was pretty cold

anonymous asked:

What's supercorps reaction after spending their first night together

The first time the spend the night together, they don’t have sex.

No, the first time they spend the night together it’s because Lena insists on keeping their movie date even though she spent all day in exhausting meetings.

She’s leaned over against Kara’s chest as they binge watch through old black and white movies, when her eyes slowly start to drift closed. Kara’s just so WARM and her fingers are combing through Lena’s hair -

The next thing she knows she’s lifted up in Kara’s arms and they’re floating towards the bedroom. She isn’t supposed to know that Kara is Supergirl, so she keeps her eyes closed until Kara gently places on the bed.

And she tries to protest, she DOES - but Kara’s arms are wrapping tightly around her and the blankets on her bed are so SOFT, not to mention they smell like Kara.

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s the best she’s ever felt. Kara’s arms are wrapped around from behind, her body cradling Lena’s.

“G’morning, beautiful.“

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whitefox55  asked:

Can you confirm any Canadian stereotypes?

we say sorry too much. Yeah honestly that’s pretty accurate

We have long cold winters. Yep, a lot of places do get pretty cold, I’m from a place where the average temperature over winter is -20-30º (celsius) and yet, lots of snow usually

we do have polar bears, beavers and moose, canada geese are demon birds

we do have igloos, but only way up north in some territories, we don’t all live in those, it’s a Inuit thing

I’ve never heard anyone say a-boot. All the funny talkers come from the maritimes\newfoundland area

I’ve never seen bagged milk in my life, I think it might be an ontario thing?

I’ve never tried the scratch and sniff plastic money we have, apparently it smells like maple syrup? I dunno

we have one and two dollar coins called loonies and toonies

folks don’t say Eh that often..doesn’t mean it never gets heard though 

A Blue Prince To Own, Chapter 4

“Tell me, my Blue Prince, about your favorite Earth cuisines.”

I smack my lips and rest my hands behind my head. “Well, that’s a hard question because I love eating. Pizza, for starters, ice cream, definitely and mama Mcclain’s garlic knots.“ God, I miss home so much. If I somehow am allowed an out to defending the universe, whether I’m replaced or I’m no longer needed, I doubt I could go back to the Garrison. I’d just want to go back to my family. The effort of testing into such a prestigious academy loses its appeal when you’re actually faced with the possibility of never seeing your family again. It’s just… awful.

Lotor, upon my request, has pulled his hair into pigtails and at first I couldn’t stop laughing (my stomach cramped up and I slipped off my chair), but now that we’re talking, I think it looks kind of cute. With such a nice structured face, it’s hard to look ridiculous even with a little girls hairstyle. His eyes strongly remind me of Keith’s, but more slanted and narrow. His cheekbones could probably cut glass and you bet your ass I’ll demand we use his jawline to cut our wedding cake.

It feels so much lighter when I’m talking to him versus me talking to the people on the ship. I have so many things to hide when I’m talking to them, but with Lotor, there doesn’t have to be any secrets, except for my endeavors with Keith, which we haven’t done since we had that awkward talk. I can tell him of my family for hours and he’ll never grow bored of me talking and it feels so good to be lathered with attention and affection, even if we don’t even know each other in real life. Lotor… he says his new quest to make peace could use someone like me. He says I should come with him, and holy shit do I so desperately want to. I’m going to be replaced anyway, so what better way to waste my time than with a Prince who adores me, helping him restore the universe?

“Ice… cream?” He tilts his head cutely, curiously and my heart gives a pitiful series of fast beats. “Is it cold, like ice?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cold, but not too cold to eat. It comes in a bunch of different flavors and if you eat it too fast, your brain freezes.” Lotor’s expression morphs to that of horror and I quickly back petal. “No, no, not like, actually freeze, it just gives you a headache for a minute and humans call it a brain freeze.”

“Fascinating!” He looks completely awestruck. It’s so sweet. “Rest assured, replications of your ice cream will be made, as well as with your other earth cuisines, and you will be fed well when you are mine, my Blue Prince!”

He’s always telling me how much he’ll spoil me once he makes me his, which he’s systematically doing. I’ve never been more pliant with another. And Blue claims I’ve never been more emotional dependent on anyone as well. He’s making it all sound like a paradise. Maybe he’s making me his loyal victim, but when I feel this light, I really don’t care if he’s feeding me lies built off of bad intentions. “I can’t wait. Hunk… he’s tried to turn the ship’s mediocre ingredients into something edible, but lately I’ve just been getting tasteless food goo. It sucks.”

“My love, once you are in my grasps, you will never feast on tasteless goo again! Only the best for my beloved Blue Prince. The best clothes, the finest place to rest right beside me, the best treatment from my guards and servants. Anyone who offers you less shall be imprisoned, my love!”

That’s awful, that’s malicious and cruel to imprison someone for offering me something that isn’t up to my standards. But, my head is so sick, the thought is pulling my mouth into a wide smile and I laugh and clap my hands excitedly. Why does that make me happy? Maybe it’s just his dedication, or his sparkling eyes, or the way he speaks so fondly about me, praising me so confidently, worshipping me. It feels so good to be WORSHIPPED. I can’t help it. I’ve spent most of my life feeling second best, seventh wheel, not good enough, useless, but he’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m happy hearing it all, being listened to, being treated right. He wants me. And that’s what I’ve always wanted.

“I can’t wait to be by your side, Princey!” Maybe he’s not the only one who is delirious. Maybe it’s me too because I’m living in the same illusion he is and I’m fucking loving it. “I can’t wait to be owned by you, to be happy like this all the time, to not cry so much. To live in that,” Prison, Blue tells me, It will be a prison, no matter how much he convinces you it is your choice to leave or not, it will be a prison, don’t succumb, please, my Paladin, “in that paradise, Lotor.”

“A paradise, just for you and I.” He claims so lovingly, looking even more consumed by the thought of eternal happiness with each other than I am. “A paradise, where no one will make you feel alone, worthless, or unwanted again.”

My helmet speaks up. “Paladins! Please, report to the control room, as there is dickery afoot!” I can vaguely hear someone chuckling in the background and have to assume Matt and Pidge are teaching Coran god awful, but hilarious, terms like ‘dickery’.

All at once, the color along with the joy, drains from me. I’ve been feeling worse and worse nowadays. Talking to him is the only release I find in life. Seeing his smiling, sharp mouth forming kind words. I’m tired of cold lips undermining me so innocently. The facade is harder than ever to keep up, of stability. “I… gotta go, Princey. But, I’m really down for just blowing this popsicle stand. I’m really, really done being an extra. A stand in.”

He looks confused. I should probably start teaching him some Earth terms too, as much as I love his impeccable English, it’d be nice to work some slang and metaphors into his vernacular. “I’m going to take an escape pod and leave.” He lights up at once and says his fair wells before the connection times out.

I pull on my jacket and take my sweet time getting to the control room. As much as I love going on missions, I feel like no one even wants me on them. None of our missions have gone as smoothly as the one I wasn’t on, according to Shiro, not that he knows I heard him say that to Allura. Why wouldn’t they want to replace me? If everything’s so much better when I’m oblivious and sad at the castle. What should they care if I’m living happily ever after, not piloting Blue? Though, I have to admit, I’m going to miss her and I feel bad. She keeps saying that I’m her pilot, that I cannot abandon being a Paladin, but I’m done. I can’t keep living with people who I’m pretty sure hate my guts. Even she can sense that I’m so much happier when I’m with Prince Lotor.

She doesn’t deserve feeling my sadness all the time and worrying over a cargo pilot that doesn’t deserve her. In a way, she’ll be better off too, even if she doesn’t realize that yet. Everyone else is already in the control room when I arrive and I struggle to crack a smile.

“Lance, what the hell? Do you have weights attached to your ankles or are your clown feet just getting harder to pick up?” Keith bites as soon as I plop down at my station.

“I don’t know Keith, you look like you just sat down. Your fat head getting harder to keep up? Or are the planets orbiting around it making it harder to see?” I shoot back through a sigh, forcing myself to grin cockily. He’s probably just pent up because we haven’t been fucking. I’ll admit, I’m a little frustrated too.

Shiro lets out a groan. “Are you guys serious? As soon as you’re in the same room, you have to argue. Keith, chill out. Lance, you only make it worse when you respond. We talked about this.”

I don’t know why, but I feel like talking back and I’m an impulsive guy with little self control. I’ll be out of here soon anyway, so what’s the point in holding back. “Okay, next time I’ll just let Keith treat me like a bitch because he’s your favorite. Got it.”

Hunk chokes and Pidge lets out a bark of laughter. Matt shoves them in the back of the head with reprimand. Why is he even here? Slav doesn’t get to join when we discuss missions. They’re probably preparing him for the position of the Blue Paladin. Whatever. He can fucking have it.

“I don’t have favorites, Lance.” Shiro responds, sitting up straighter and catching my gaze. I don’t look away. He doesn’t even see his own bias? This is too much. “I’m simply pointing out that you were both at fault. Do you have a problem with how I lead this team?”

I chuckle bitterly and shake my head slowly, wiping my palms on my pants. “No, you’re a fine leader, except you have to treat Keith like the princess he is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be thoroughly convinced you two were fucking. And we both know that if Keith wants a fight, he pushes and pushes and pushes until he gets one, so there isn’t such thing as ‘don’t respond’. If I don’t respond to him being a dick, you know what’ll happen, Mr. Great Leader? I have to shut up while he acts superior.”

“Lance, I don’t - ”

I have no clue what’s coming over me, maybe my ego’s been overfed and the confidence from being wanted is all consuming, but I cut off whatever he was about to say. “Keith, sorry if your head is so fucking huge that your ears are too small for it, but no one was talking to you, especially not me. Though, the conversation will shift to you eventually, Daddy will always cater to his princess before he listens to anyone else, after all.”

They’re both bright red, maybe will embarrassment, but probably with anger and I’m proud, too proud, this isn’t me, but I’m not sad somehow. Hunk looks like he might pass out and Keith, oh fucking Keith, looks like he’s about to open his big mouth, but Allura interrupts just in time.

“Paladins, keep your personal matters to yourselves. There is a mission to attend to. This… disgusting amount of insubordination and disrespect will be dealt with after the mission. For now, clear your minds of it and focus on the task at hand.”

Shiro and Keith both numbly nod, though the latter sends me a glare that might’ve made me cry if it didn’t suddenly feel so good being so horrible. I can’t help but stretch my lips into a wide, curling grin as the mission proceeds. I feel lighter, having screwed into their heads like that. I’ll be gone soon anyway, so what else can I say?

Though, it occurs to me now that I just might get my skinny neck wrung once the mission has ended. I call it the Lotor effect. Knowing he is out there, wanting me, is making me fearless. The aching sadness is draining. Instead I feel…

Absolutely fucking evil.

Chapter 5: https://langst-mccpain.tumblr.com/post/163355067940/a-blue-prince-to-own-chapter-5

Analytical shit

I came across this thought at 2 AM but…why exactly do we like whump? Why are we so attracted and fascinated by it? What is the appeal in reading about someone getting hurt or sick? Vice versa what is the appeal in inflicting “pain” onto our characters (and then hopefully see them recover with lots of love afterwards)? Yes I know, I’m being the bad cop by prying into such a topic rather than just passing it off with a “well we just LIKE it” but I’m in the mood to attempt to analyze the psychological appeal so…

I think it can go into one of two ways (or simultaneously, both):
One, we have a kink for a certain aspect of sickness and fulfill our needs/desires by reading/listening. Those of us that do have this will feel a physical rush obviously whenever we listen or even read about it. It feels good to us to experience such things because that’s just the way we inherently are.
For those of us that DON’T have a kink necessarily, I feel like what happens physically is predominantly the brain’s chemicals releasing endorphins or something along those lines specifically when we read about the CARETAKING aspect of a fic or see it in artwork etc. There’s just something about wanting to be loved, held, protected that gives us a sense a security when we finally can engage in it, whether it be through illusion or not. This is now seeping in towards the mental/psychological aspect of things.

Secondly, we may find whump intriguing because we have a deep emotional problem that feels unresolved. I feel like we may subconsciously either feel lonely, ignored, or not cared about among a variety of other reasons. So we use our scenarios and sickfics/whatnot to help us feel just a bit better on the inside, because we subconsciously tend to feel that we are either giving or feeling love in the situation we’re reading about. We literally pretend on some level that we are the sick character/caretaker and often we may not think about it in this way. Alternatively, like I described above, we just want to feel loved and cared about. Hence the role of the caretaker and how they interact with our characters (or us in our minds) and make us feel better about ourselves or our immediate situation. If we feel down, then when we “vent” we release our stresses in the form of sickness or general malaise, and we inflict this onto our whumpees of choice. There’s something psychologically appealing about directing our hurt to other characters, maybe to make our situation relative to them or to tell ourselves “hey, we’re not alone! We’re both in pain”. Of course, when you do write/vent you won’t necessarily have this CONSCIOUS thought present because that would detract from the flow of your vent. This is just the gist of the emotional and mental reasoning, I’m sure it could go much much deeper than this.

The attraction could even possibly be just due to your genetic predisposition.

Additionally, something in our childhood might have also played into this.  Just like how PTSD triggers a permanent reaction in some people, the same kind of thing might have happened with some of us here. Maybe it was a continual problem that you had to deal with or just a singular event, but either way, you were changed from that point onward and you’ve been like this ever since. Sometimes it was a good change, others bad, but whichever way it went you’re here now and this is how you cope. And if it makes you feel good, then great!
But if you struggled with accepting it (like I think in one point in time we all did to a certain extent) then it is quite the battle, and a lot of times even now you can still feel ashamed for it. You certainly wouldn’t tell anyone you know you’re attracted to this unless you felt comfortable enough to do so, and even then privacy is the best policy when dealing with such matters. Why is this you ask? Because whether you like it or not, we’re technically considered a minority. The way society is, people would without a doubt judge us for being attracted to injury/illness (and judge us by kinkshaming, etc.). This is a repetitive issue that other minorities also face for various reasons, so to keep from deviating from this topic too much I will cut it off with this: it will take TIME for an entire society to adjust with accepting change.

I also hate to put it this way, but when we reverse roles and instead of observing the whumpee get sick (i.e. READING) and we decide to INFLICT the whump (i.e WRITING), we are technically considered borderline sadistic or even masochistic (if you picture yourself as the whumpee). Yet it still feels right somehow. Why this is, I think it depends with each individual and their background. Other times we use it as a way to vent our pent up emotions and stresses and whatnot like I mentioned before. It can be a form of healing for some of us (how ironic), which is completely fine. After all, you can’t really pinpoint one exact reason why we’re attracted to it.

Now let’s focus on how we react when reality literally hits.

Sometimes, when whump occurs in real life, either to friends or strangers around us (I will talk about when we’re sick later this paragraph), it feels strange in a way. We sit here and engage in reading/listening/imagining scenarios ALL the time, and yet here we are seeing one of those scenarios unfolding before our very eyes! A lot of times we might get kind of giddy and excited, we *feverishly* think “OH! It’s actually happening!!” and we suddenly find ourselves out of the imaginative world into reality. But now you think “how should I react to this on the outside?”. You may find yourself just a tidbit flustered on the outside and trying your best to keep your composure, or you might have to move around or even walk out depending on how hard it hits you. It is definitely awkward to us enthusiasts but sometimes it’s also endearing. Strange isn’t it.

The reverse of this is when we’re sick/hurt. Then I think for the most part we all dread it for the most part but also see the situation as…you guessed it, potential! For writing more fics, producing more art, scenarios, and what not to expand our interest in this topic. It sucks either way but…yeah. I’m out of juice now.

Of course, this entire mess is coming from a teenager’s point of view, and I’m aware that my brain is obviously still developing but nonetheless, I still tried to be as thorough and unbiased as I possibly could. I am flawed and sorry if I didn’t touch on certain aspects, but feel free to contribute your input! Also yeah I know this is uncalled for but

I just felt like unraveling this 2 AM thought.

garrifisher  asked:

I have you shoved against the wall but now I can’t stop looking at your mouthWe were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each otherI just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that?We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair literally any (or all )of these with alex summers??

Alex Summers + ‘we slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair’

a/n; this has been in my inbox for literally a year i’m the wORST anyway dedicated to my girl @havokangel she deserves all this and more 

Staring blankly at the double bed, squeezed into a room that would generously be described as a closet and the only words you can muster are “absolutely not.”

Beside you, Alex is looking about as dumbfounded as you’re feeling, and Sean pats you both on the back sympathetically and says “sorry, guys. You were the last two here and everyone else had already claimed a bed.” You turn your head to glare balefully at him and Sean just smiles back at you, unfazed, and says “I mean, one of you is welcome to take a spot on the floor somewhere, but it’s only for like two nights and I mean-whatever but I’d personally find a bed comfier, even if it’s a squeeze.” Alex is glaring at Sean now too, and you’re not sure if you should be insulted at how obvious it is that he doesn’t want to share a bed with you, but you’re not too worried about that right now. Sean smiles brightly at the two of you and says “try not to kill each other. Goodnight,” and then promptly disappears, leaving only you, Alex and uncomfortable silence in the room.

Dropping your bag on the floor you sit on the edge of the bed and say “look-I mean-it’s like-cold right now-and honestly I’d rather just-suck it up and share than sleep on the cold floor.” Alex nods and he’s silent for a moment before clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“Yeah-it’s-yeah it’s pretty cold at the moment. We can-we can manage like two nights. We’re mature enough to share for two nights,” he says and you’re not sure if you’re imagining the way his voice sounds a little hoarse.

Getting ready for bed is almost disconcertingly normal, both of you going through the motions of your normal pre-bed routine. You can almost make yourself believe that you’re going to bed alone as you slide under the covers, shivering slightly as you feel the cool sheets on your skin. Settling down against the pillow, you relax and then almost immediately tense up again when you feel the mattress dip under Alex’s weight as he gets into bed beside you.

You’re instantaneously aware of just how small a double bed feels for two fully grown people. Try as you might, his shoulder is only centimetres from yours and you can feel the warmth of his body slowly spreading through the sheets as you pull the covers up close around you. It’s quiet for a moment and then he says a little hesitantly “goodnight.”

Your back is to him and you nod slightly and reply “goodnight, Alex.” The mattress shifts under his weight again as he gets comfortable and his shoulder brushes against your back and despite being sleepy only minutes earlier, you’re wide awake.


The hum of rain drumming on the window wakes you up, and for a second you’re disoriented and groggy as you try and piece together where you are. It only takes a moment before you’re suddenly completely aware of where you are and what’s happening because you can feel the warmth of Alex’s body in the tiny bed beside you. Carefully, you shift in the bed, rolling over so you can take in the situation more clearly. He’s still asleep, hair messy with his head tilted slightly towards you, the pale grey light making his blonde hair look more golden than usual, and you kind of want the floor to swallow you whole because this is not making your long enduring crush on him any easier to bear. Moving slowly, you try to sit up without waking him, wanting to just get out of the small room as fast as possible, to put some space between your fraying impulse control and Alex. Just as you’re trying to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, your weight shifts, the bedframe squeaks obnoxiously and Alex wakes up. “Fuck,” you hiss under your breath, and he frowns sleepily, scrubbing a hand over his face as he blinks gradually awake.

The second his eyes are open, you feel like you’re transfixed because fucking hell were they always that blue? He props himself up on his elbow and his voice is low and rough with sleep as he says “morning,” and you never thought you’d see him like this and it’s all you can do to keep from practically melting into the mattress.

“Good morning,” you say, when you finally get your brain under control, finding your words. He shifts, sitting up properly and you unconsciously lean into him a little. His gaze flickers from your face to the window and you can’t tear your eyes from the sharp line of his jaw and the way his hair is a mess when he wakes up. This crush is making you feel twelve years old again and your decision to put as much space as possible between you and Alex has all but evaporated as you study him, reflexively angling your body towards him.

He looks back to you and says “cold this morning. M’glad neither of us took the floor.”

A small smile of surprise tugs at your lips and you chuckle a little and without really thinking about it, you say “would’ve been much colder in the bed alone too. You’re like a living space heater.”

The slight flush rising to Alex’s cheeks might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and you want to kiss him badly enough that only the barest thread of your common sense holding you back. You tell yourself you’re imagining the way his gaze seems to dart briefly to your lips and the way his voice is a little rougher than before as he says quietly “it was-kind of nice not sleeping alone. I mean-like-having you-it was-nice.”

His voice trails off a little and he’s blushing a little more deeply than before and it’s like you can actually hear the snap as the last of your impulse control breaks and you don’t let yourself stop to think about it as you say softly “can I kiss you?”

The words are scarcely out of your mouth when he’s reaching across the small bed, pulling you into his chest to kiss you gently. His lips are warm and soft, and you feel like your heart might actually pound out of your chest as his hand comes up to cradle your cheek lightly, touching you delicately enough it’s like he thinks you might break or somehow disappear. Kissing him back slowly, you let yourself shift slightly closer, looping an arm around his shoulders as a smile tugs at your lips.

When he pulls back a few moments later, his nose is rubbing lightly against yours and his voice is barely a whisper as he says “probably would’ve driven me insane if I had to sleep in the same bed as you and then-not kiss you after,” and you can’t help but let out a breathless giggle.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I was gonna survive this whole experience but I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to be wrong.”

cheater cheater (l.h.)

I looked over my appearance once more, not quite as satisfied as I could have been with myself, but figuring it was just Calum and he had seen me at my absolute worst.

I had on an over sized white Blink-182 shirt, considering all we had planned was a movie day in, maybe even a few of the boys might stop by, so I didn’t feel the need to get dressed up or anything. Leggings clung to my legs as I struggle to squeeze my vans onto my feet in attempt to avoid retying the shoelaces.

My phone buzzed next to me on my bed just as I had finally gotten myself recomposed, from Calum.

Cal: Hey (Y/N), the doors open for when you arrive :)

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Rained In

Bucky x Reader; College AU!, Steve/Nat, Sam Wilson

Summary: Where plans to hang outside are tossed out the window when the weather decides to change.

Word Count: 1,913

Warnings: Language, super adorable pouting Bucky

A/N: Because it’s raining and I’ve been having a long morning and in dire need of Bucky fluff



The sight before you is too much for you and you end up biting your knuckles to keep you from laughing. Your lovely, childlike brunet roommate slash boyfriend was curled underneath all three of your comforters pouting and refusing to come out of his “cave”.

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captainbatbrain  asked:

I think ive read every single thing on this blog i love it so much!! Lol i was hoping i could get some senerios of the phantom thieves + mishima with a gamer s/o and trying to get there attention? Thank you!

I can’t believe you enjoy my blog so much, thank you! <3 This is such a cute and fun request, so I hope you don’t if I make it a little silly lol. Enjoy!


Akira:

The tapping of game controller buttons wafted throughout Leblanc’s rustic attic like the beat of a drum, with S/O as the fervent instrumentalist, their brows furrowed with a determination and concentration that was to be aspired to, particularly when performing mundane tasks, those of which Akira was currently preoccupied with. He had been fumbling with lockpicks for hours now, and one can only reiterate the same assignment until ennui begins to creep its way into the consciousness, plaguing it like a thick fog. He geared his attention toward the single person whose very presence prevented his sanity from thoroughly dilapidating.

S/O was inhabiting a universe of their own, ignorant and blissfully unaware of their current surroundings. 

“You seem to be having fun.” Akira rested his cheek upon his pal, with his elbow perched on his work-desk. As expected, he received no response, only the incessant sound of tapping buttons permeating his eardrums. His glistening onyx eyes softened at the sight of S/O tensed with such vigor. How adorable they appeared to him… truly, an exemplary target for the myriad of devious antics brewing in his mind. His lips curled in a smirk, the compulsion of teasing them too tempting to refuse.

“S/O…” Akira began, a solemn undertone in his baritone voice, “I need to tell you something.” Their subsequent grunt was likened to a neanderthal, and Akira firmly bit his lower lip to prevent himself from laughing. “I… think I’m pregnant.” He waited for their reaction with bated breath, but all that greeted his ears was another primal sound.

Shot down?! Akira thought, despondence slightly dampening his frivolous mood. Th-this is nothing… I welcome the challenge!

With a resolve that blazed like a wildfire in a parched wood, Akira sauntered to the couch that S/O was seated at and plopped down beside them, snaking his arms around their waist as he nestled his keen chin on their shoulder, his balmy breath fragrant with Arabica. His gaze was plastered on the luminescent TV screen, observing S/O’s gaming ability as he whispered commentary in a low, sensual cadence meant to imply suggestiveness. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Akira couldn’t possibly have anticipated S/O tensing even further; alas, that is precisely what occurred, much to his satisfaction, and although they neglected to reply verbally, their body language had spoken volumes. He proceeded with his mischievous jesting after a pause, “You’re doing so good, babe…" 

S/O was exceedingly conscious of his presence now, their sudden death streak and scathing scarlet cheeks serving as irrefutable evidence. Akira’s lips brushed their ear, his balmy sigh tickling it as his arms subtly constricted their waist, tugging them closer. “Your hands are almost as good as mi-”

In a foray of embarrassment, S/O promptly mashed their lips onto his conniving pair, thereby silencing his coquettish banter and causing his ebony orbs to widen with astonishment. When S/O reared back to survey his expression, an impressive ruby was painted over his once-pallid face, his mouth failing to provide a sufficient retort as it hung open.

This in turn provoked S/O’s cheeks to ignite like candle-flame as they exasperatedly exclaimed, “W-why are you embarrassed?! I guess you can dish it but you can’t it… anyway, what did you need?”

Akira feebly adjusted his glasses in an attempt to recover. “You’re pregnant.”

“H-huh?!”

“I-I mean, I’m pregnant…!”

“That’s no possible! …Wh-who’s the parent?” The couple continued riffing off of one another, both exceptionally dedicated to their roles as they snuggled among their warmth, the video game long forgotten.


Ryuji:

“Babe! Wouldja please tell me where my sweater is? I know you were wearin’ it the other day!”

Ryuji had scrutinized every nook and cranny of the bedroom in a flimsy endeavor to reunite with his favorite sweater; however, its existence had regrettably vanished, along with the blonde’s thinning patience as he redundantly called for S/O to no avail.

“Guess I’m not the only thief in this house,” Ryuji muttered, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, his leg bouncing with suppressed frustration. The only solution to this predicament was to confront S/O directly, so he trudged off to commence his search for the notorious sweater burglar. 

By no means was this the first instance of S/O pilfering his wardrobe - and to be fair, he often reciprocated the gesture, as he adored the familiar, pleasant fragrance that stained their clothes; he could only conjecture they felt the same as he - however, Ryuji had to draw the line, as the harsh bite of winter succeeded in permeating the air of the couple’s residence, and he certainly wasn’t about to tolerate it without the comfort of his favorite sweater. 

Ryuji finally found them in the living room, intently engaged in a video game via TV, adorned with… the very sweater he had so thoroughly searched for. “You little…! I knew it.” Ryuji murmured, a trace of vexation in his voice. 

Indeed, S/O seemed to be so devoted to their game that they had neglected to hear Ryuji boisterously speak next to their ear. “Hey, thief. Gimme my sweater back.” He tapped their ear as though it were a microphone. “Helloooo?”

“Quit it, I’m fighting an important boss and I’m so close to killing it,” they responded urgently, not even sparing a glance in his direction.

“Oh, I getcha…” With pure spitefulness driving his forthcoming action, he obstructed the view of the TV with his form, arms crossed as if he were a vitriolic parent. “You ready to pay attention now?”

The prominent flush that now dusted S/O’s cheeks was not the reaction he anticipated, and he stared at them with a questioning expression until they stuttered his name, their sight flitting to various areas of his body. The blonde glanced down and promptly noticed he overlooked the rationality of equipping himself with a shirt; as a result, the protruding muscles of his biceps and abdomen were fully exposed, with a keen V-shape peeking over his sweatpants.

“Oh shit, so that’s why it was so damn freezin’.” He glimpsed at S/O before pointedly reiterating, “I still want my sweater back, though. Give it.”

S/O swallowed the flustered lump in their throat as they broke out into a cold sweat, despite the crisp air around them. “W-wow, you’re so bold today, Ryuji.”

“…What are you thinkin’ in that messed up head of yours?” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his warm pockets once more prior to approaching S/O, bending at the waist to meet their gaze, the duo’s faces mere inches apart. “Are ya gonna give me my sweater, or am I gonna have to take it from ya?”

S/O began fanning their rosy face, their mind now set on teasing him as revenge for his interruption. “O-oh my, you have such a way with words…”

“Ugh, that’s it, I’m just gonna take it.” Ryuji knew better than to take their bait, as he had fallen victim to their shenanigans far too many instances throughout the years, and he had long since grown out of the bashfulness that took precedence at the start of his relationship with S/O. His hands dashed to the back of the sweater, feebly attempting to tug it up as S/O circled their arms around his bare waist, jerking him onto the couch as they cried, “Be gentle!”

“It ain’t like that, dammit…!” Ryuji quickly accepted his fate once S/O had wrapped their legs around his hips and began showering his face with playful kisses, giggling with child-like levity as they did so. 

His body was completely still, compressed against theirs as they embraced him and spoke softly in his ear. “I can see why this is your favorite sweater, it’s warm and cozy, like you… sorry for taking it. You can have it back.”

The embarrassment that Ryuji thought he had rid himself of returned posthaste, heating the majority of his body as he begrudgingly lied, “Th-that ain’t gonna work on me… but I guess you can wear it, I-I’m not really cold anymore.”

“Yeah, you’ve always been pretty hot,” S/O agreed with an inflection of mischief.

“Why am I in love with such a freakin’ weirdo…? Must be cursed or somethin’.”

Despite his words, he uplifted himself to delicately press a kiss onto their forehead before snatching the nearby blanket and covering the two of them with it. The couple shortly dozed off while they whispered sweet nothings, and S/O happening upon the sudden realization that the sought-after sweater was actually theirs.


Yusuke:

Yusuke was able to greatly empathize with S/O’s one-track mind as they indulged in their favorite pastime, as he does the same when he’s occupied with painting or sketching. As it so happened, he was actually engaged with painting for hours on end until he had just now concluded it, thus the fault rests partially on him pertaining to S/O’s blatant disregard for his presence as they wholly absorbed themself in their portable game console as a means of distracting themself as the artist worked; their lack of acknowledgment was even more understandable when he had considered the fact that he shooed them away rather dismissively while he was busy.

“S/O, I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long. Shall I begin the movie?”
S/O ignored him almost entirely, save for the subtle pout that danced on their lips as they sunk further into their bean bag; although the couple had been monogamous for almost two years, that endearing pout never failed to stutter his swelling heart. As much as he’d love to admire them and ponder their splendor, he was well aware that he must rectify his earlier insensitivity. Therefore, he silently glided to S/O…

…and plopped right onto their lap.

“H-hey, what are you doing?!”

“Ah, it seems I’ve gotten your attention. To be honest, when Akira had instructed me to do this should I ever anger you, I was rather skeptical at first-”

“Y-Yusuke… your butt is digging into my thigh.” S/O uncomfortably wriggled underneath Yusuke, and he almost toppled off the bean bag chair had S/O not caught him at the last second, discarding their game system in order to do so. “Sorry!”

“Here, I’ll adjust my position a bit for your convenience.”

S/O shook their head in refusal. “It’s okay, I’ll spread my legs a little so you can sit too.”

Yusuke kissed their cheek with a fondness that could rival his adoration for art as snaked his lithe arms around their waist. “Your generosity knows no bounds, kitten.”

“It’s nothing… w-wait, I’m supposed to be ignoring you…!”

Yusuke chuckled triumphantly, his cadence registering in S/O’s ears like a euphoric melody as he explained, “Yes, it seems Akira was correct after all. Although next time I’ll be sure to wear a few more pairs of underwear for your comfort.”

S/O suppressed the loving smile that dared to threaten their lips and mustered their best neutral inflection as they offered, “I think you’ll need a few pillows.”
The artist’s eyes widened at such a far-fetched idea, which was clearly intended to be taken sarcastically. And yet: “H-how innovative…! Yes, I shall strap all the pillows I can find to my rear if I must do this again. Well done, my dear.”

S/O couldn’t take it anymore; how could they possibly maintain a disdainful countenance when their beloved was vastly more precious than all the iridescent gems in the world? They abruptly lurched at him, ensnaring his shoulders with their arms as the duo plummeted on the carpeted floor, with S/O on top of Yusuke, pasting a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. His arms were still wrapped around their waist, and his cheeks were kissed with a rosy-pink hue.

“S-S/O…?”

“…I forgive you.”

“No, that will not do, not without a proper apology. I’m sorry for my earlier impudence, and I will strive to be more attentive when you require it.”

“Yeah, me too. Let’s work on it it together, okay?” S/O’s subsequent smile was as brilliantly radiant as the morning sun, and the mirthful wink that followed their final word further twisted the arrow burrowed deep into his love-struck heart. His body moved of its own volition as he placed his palms on both of their cheeks for the purpose of descending their lips to his. After they parted, the couple flushed and averted their gazes as though they had just exchanged their first kiss, although neither of them were in any rush to alter their positions. The only commodity that motivated the two to stir was Sweeney Todd, which was the aforementioned movie Yusuke had borrowed from Haru. 

As such, they spent the duration of the night snuggled on the couch together with a bowl of freshly made popcorn warming their legs, the accompaniment of various musical numbers echoing throughout the living room.


Mishima:

Mishima was so incredibly centralized on his own video games - intermittently diverting his attention toward screenwriting his Phantom Thief of Hearts documentary - naturally, he had no indication that S/O was additionally participating in the activity until he finally emerged from his office, his joints popping like firecrackers from the effort. 

“Jeez, I’m not that old yet,” he murmured dejectedly, his mood already being soured due to the myriad defeats he had suffered while cooperating in a multiplayer online game.

Sometimes being a healer… is worse, he figured, his mind as gloomy as the dark circles shadowed under his bloodshot eyes. Mishima had really rather hoped S/O would be available, as he sought nothing more than the solace of their arms to nullify his ample rage and disappointment; alas, they were comfortably seated on a cushion in front of the TV, fully engrossed in their console game. He wordlessly sulked behind them and plummeted to the carpeted floor, lacing his arms around their waist as he pouted.

“I got my ass handed to me big time. Snipers show absolutely no mercy,” he mumbled to himself, since S/O certainly wasn’t listening. “Hey,” he complained, then promptly sighed. “Fine, ignore me… it doesn’t bother me one bit.”

Not even a minute passed when Mishima commenced rocking side-to-side like a metronome, chanting S/O’s name in a feeble attempt to draw their attention. “S/O, please love me. S/O, I’m an eighteen year old looking for a good time and I like long walks on the beach. S/O. Hey, S/O.” Mishima fragmented his sentences by plastering kisses on their neck, which certainly captured their attention as evidenced by their flustered countenance.

“Yuuki… you’re being ridiculous.”

“Sorry, I just need some comfort right now. Losing twenty-seven matches in a row really emasculates a guy.”

S/O shrugged as they pivoted their head away from him to conceal the playful smirk on their face. “Go take a long walk on the beach and have a good time.”

If it weren’t for his low spirits, Mishima would have laughed with the utmost amusement. “S/O… do you want me to die? Is this my punishment for taking the last yogurt cup you had?”

The entertainment in S/O’s eyes vanished entirely and was replaced by a cold, desolate void as they slowly turned toward their boyfriend. “…That was you?”

The sheer terror Mishima felt in his core nearly provoked the remainder of his spirits to astral project into another plane of existence. “C-crap…! Um, I-I’ll make it up to you, babe, promise.”

S/O narrowed their eyes at him before their emotionless facade shattered, reverting to their former levity as they proclaimed, “It’s okay, I was saving it for you anyway. I’ll get extra next time, in your favorite flavors.”

“…You’re an angel,” he commented softly, his eyes wet with bliss as he nuzzled S/O’s shoulder.

“Yuuki… are you crying?”

“That’s what happens when you look at the sun.”

“…Does that make you my moon?”

Mishima chuckled affectionately, fondly kissing their shoulder as he stated, “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Sweaters

Pietro x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Reader spends most of her time with Pietro after joining the Avengers


part two

They found her in El Azizia, Libya one of the hottest places on earth ever recorded. Ironically, her power was ice. She was made of it and could control it completely.

The Avengers had an entire file on her and had decided she was essential to their team. However it had taken them a while to find them, and the team was tired and overheating, especially Pietro. The Speedster basically radiated heat and in 140° degrees the man was sweating buckets.

“They couldn’t just have sent one of us, no?” Pietro complained.

“Pietro, we don’t know how dangerous she is. We needed back up just in case.” The Captain responded as Pietro groaned.

“Maybe you’re just afraid of being frozen again, Cap.” Pietro smirked, momentarily feeling triumphant before a bead of sweat traveled down his forehead and into his eye.

She was hidden among a tribe deep in the desert, the arid wind blowing forcefully as she stepped out of her hut with a brown hood over her head.
The Avengers had drawn everyone’s attention as they stood in the centre of the village.

“That’s her.” Natasha whispered and she pointed to the girl standing behind the crowd, staring in confusion at the Avengers.

Pietro huffed as he rolled his eyes and they fell on her. The first thing he noticed was the wisps of black curls poking from under her clothing. Her bright blue eyes a complete contrast to her mocha colored skin.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” A man stepped forward and addressed them, obviously a leader of some kind.

The Captain and Black Widow stepped forward, talking in hushed voices while pointing to the girl.
Pietro continued to stare at her, something about her capturing his entire attention, something he couldn’t pinpoint but was dying to know more about.

“Y/N!” The leader beckoned her forward. She tried to step back into her hut and cower for a second, before stepping forward and following the Leader, Captain America, and The Black Widow into a hut bigger than the rest.
The Tribe noticed the arrival of the Avengers was peaceful and unconcerning to them, they returned to their respectful huts. Leaving the rest of the team to sit outside and wait for The Captain and Black Widow to return.

————

“I cannot possibly leave, they need me here. I am their only water source.” Y/N argued.

“Stark Industries will take care of that. They’ll be in good hands Y/N.” The Captain finally managed to convince Y/N to leave her tribe.
With a final look of confirmation from the tribe leader, Y/N left to gather her belongings.
She raced out of the hut, out of excitement and concern. Causing the team waiting outside to jump to their feet as they stared at her. All but one, however.
Pietro was sat directly outside the entrance of the hut, so as Y/N zoomed out, she managed to trip on his outstretched legs. The Speedster was fast enough to catch her body before she smashed into the ground, putting them in an awkward position in which he was on top of her. One arm holding both their bodies above the ground while the other was secured around her waist. He noticed the frigid cold that radiated off her through her clothes, finding it odd in the immense heat.

“Hello.” He smiled.
She muttered a quick apology before detangling their bodies and pushing herself off him, leaving Pietro for slump on the ground and groan.

“Don’t even think about it you quick little bastard.” Clint commented as Pietro dusted off the dirt.

“I wasn’t thinking anything, old man.” He lied, watching the girl walk into her hut and emerge minutes after with a brown, tattered bag in her shoulders.

“We leave now?” Wanda asked when Steve and Natasha existed the hut.

“Yes, but I’ll be damned if I walk any longer in this heat.” The team sighed in relief as Steve radioed in for transportation and a jet arrived shortly after.

Y/N was now in new clothes, provided by Natasha.
Her hood that covered her long hair was now gone. She had (Y/C/H) that reached her waist.
And much like Pietro’s silver locks, she had streaks of silver running through most of it.

She wandered around the jet, mentally taking notes of everything she found odd.

“So many flickering lights…why?” She asked to no one in particular.

“The mortals think they are pretty.” Thor commented what he genuinely believed to be true.

“Well actually they all mean something. And they stop the jet from plummeting to the ground so…yeah they’re pretty.” Tony called out from the pilot’s chair.

“It’s very cold in here, yes?” Y/N shivered and rubbered her hands together.

“How does a person that makes ice get cold?” The Captain asked. However, Bruce answered him before Y/N could.

“Think of it this way; Pietro’s increased metabolism and homeostasis make a basically a human radiator. He gives off heat so he’s always warm. Which is also why he was the one to most suffer in Libyan heat. Y/N is ice, which is why the heat didn’t affect her. It was at most a cool 70 degrees for her in Libya.”

“That’s a good scientific explanation. I would’ve just told you ‘I’m cold’. “ She smiled.

Pietro then stood up, taking off his jacket and handing it to Y/N. She threw her hands up in protest, to which he simply shook his head and pushed the jacket closer to her.

“I radiate heat, really it is no problem.”

Y/N smiled and stuck her arms through the black sleeves.

“I could hug you if you’d like, you know…if you are still cold.”

“Pietro.” If looks could kill Wanda would’ve murdered Pietro right on the spot.

“I was just trying to be friendly.” He slumped back into his seat.

The Team finally landed at the Avengers tower. Where they were greeted by Agent Maria Hill who quickly took Y/N away to show her her room and hand her a schedule.

“What does all this mean?” Y/N stood in the middle of her room, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she stared at the piece of paper in her hands.

“It means you’re an Avenger.” Agent Hill smiled before exiting the room, leaving Y/N no less confused than before.

There was a white dress folded neatly in the middle of the bed with long white boots laying next to it . Y/N put on the dress, finding it very fitting everywhere except the bottom half that was loose. A navy blue steak raced up both sides of the dress. She studied herself in the mirrors, admiring the way the dress flowed with each of her movement.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, in the doorway was Pietro with yet another jacket in his hands. This time it was leather and navy blue.

“I thought this would match the dress, no?” He compared the jackets color to the streaks running yo Y/N’s sides.

“Yes, I think it matches well. Thank you, Pietro.”

“Well at least you won’t be cold, huh?”

“But you will be? Truthfully I do not wish to take all of your jackets.”

“Oh well…” he chuckled, not being able to find a way to tell her he would give up all his jackets as long as she was warm.
He settled for a much different response however, “New York City can get cold.”from


“It suits you.” Pietro spoke again to eliminate the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N furrowed her brows at him in response.

“The dress. It suits you. Very…Icy.”

She smiled and Pietro nearly fell to his knees. He absolutely loved her smile. He wanted to make her smile for as long as he lived. Even better, he wanted her to smile just at him.

“Would you like a tour of the tower?” Y/N nodded and took Pietro’s hand which he had extended to her.
Her icy skin was a cool contrast to Pietro’s thermogenic one. Their temperatures contradicted each other, making it quite pleasant for both of them.

“You are lucky, printsessa. You’re room is right across mine. Wanda’s room is right down the hall.”

The tour was filled with flirty jokes as Pietro showed Y/N every inch of the tower. Arriving at the last stop which was the Gym. Steve, Natasha, and Bucky were all gathered around the mat, training with each other.

“Romanoff, why don’t you show Y/N her training gear? If she is up for it we can start today.” Y/N nodded and followed Natasha back up the stairs, leaving Pietro with Steve and Bucky.

“She should rest, no?” Pietro argued.

Steve looked at him with concern and impatience, “Ultron is building an army, and she needs to be ready.”

Y/N and Natasha returned shortly after. Both sporting similar black attire perfect for training.

“Why don’t you grab a jacket, Y/N? It’s cold down here.”

It took Steve more time to say the words than it took Pietro to zoom up and down the stairs. Skidding to a stop in front of Y/N and handing her the same black and white jacket he had given to her on the Jet.

“Thank you.”

“This? This is nothing, printsessa. As long as you are warm.”

Tom’s Girl

It was never supposed to end up like this, Beca thought as she winced from the sudden harsh yelling and close proximity to Tom.

No, it was never supposed to end up like this, Beca thought as she scanned the room, looking at the trashed furniture and broken items, scattered everywhere as the three of them stood in it, Chloe crying and Tom yelling and Beca standing, so utterly helpless.

This was never supposed to happen.

But let’s back up.

Keep reading

Ficlet: You Did Not Just Insult Our Son!

“Yeah man, that was pretty cold,” Zack glared over his shoulder at Elliot before catching up to his friends. The other kids were still processing everything. It was hard to believe that someone would wish Milo never existed. 

Even Bradley, the least friendly person to Milo in the school, wouldn’t say such a thing. 

“Just ignore him, Milo,” Amanda said. “There’s no room for people who talk like that in my schedule.” 

Milo cracked a tiny smile. “Well, if I didn’t have the blimp scissors, I’m sure Elliot could’ve dug us out himself.” 

Melissa snorted. “Elliot actually being competent at his job is the day Sara stops obsessing over Dr. Zone.” 

As they rounded the corner, they passed an old, beaten car that looked as if it had never seen better days. The window rolled down. “Hey, kid!” Dakota waved. “Whoa, the rest of you look like you’ve tasted Cavendish’s cooking.”

Cavendish crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t have burned the stir fry if you’d remembered that it wasn’t Sunday. But that’s besides the point. Something wrong?” 

“The volunteer crossing guard just told Milo that the world was better off without him,” Zack explained. 

“You guys wouldn’t be resorting to anything drastic, would you?” Melissa asked. Her lip twitched up at a corner. 

“Who, us?” Dakota scoffed. “Never!” 

“Whatever makes you say that?” Cavendish asked.

“Okay, just checking! Wouldn’t want you to get in any trouble!” Milo exclaimed. “I gotta run home now. See you guys later!” 

“Bye!” Dakota said. 

Once the kids were out of sight, Dakota and Cavendish glanced at each other. 

“Rock, paper, scissors on punching privileges,” Cavendish said. 


In the end, Dakota won out (they went up to best of twenty because Cavendish was a sore loser and wanted to throw a punch badly). 

They found the volunteer crossing guard finishing up a musical number. The other kids were backing away slowly. 

“Hey,” Dakota said, casually strolling up to Elliot, yawning. “You’re a great singer. You take tips?” 

“Well, not really,” Elliot replied. 

Dakota grabbed Elliot’s collar and lifted him off the ground. “You’re getting one anyway. Well, more like two. First, do not insult Milo by telling him that the world is better off without him. And second, how about a knuckle sandwich?”

He drew his free hand back, delivering a solid punch to Elliot’s face. One of the lens of his glasses popped out, and his nose bent crookedly to the left. 

“Gun it before someone calls the cops!” Dakota yelled, rushing to the car. “So, what did you think?”

Cavendish rolled his eyes, stepping on the gas. “I still wanted the chance to punch him….” 

Clem is heartless in season 3! They made her so cold!

yeah she helped save the man that that pretty much took aj away from her. a man she had every right to not give a shit about (though david did say that he didn’t have a choice about taking aj)

she is far from heartless. as for her being cold, try losing everyone close to you and going through the shit she has and then say “she’s cold”

(IBVS) Inexplicable

Man. Tricking you guys into thinking you know what’s going to happen in IBVS is so much fun.


Isaac didn’t like parties.

So why the hell was he at a party?

These thoughts were all that could occupy him as he stood in an outer room by himself sipping Diet Coke.

He didn’t even like Diet Coke. It didn’t taste like anything. Why did everyone like Diet Coke? He just saw it on the table earlier and thought maybe, just maybe, this time he could understand why people liked it. Yet, it failed him.

At least he wasn’t drinking beer, though, because it was there. Isaac hated the idea of drinking. There were too many risks that came with it, plus he despised feeling sick, so he avoided it. There was no way he was going to self-inflict a headache or nausea.

The party was being held at the house of some random popular girl. Drew wanted to go; he was invited by her. Oddly, Nevin didn’t show any signs of caring… he seemed distracted. After that, Drew just walked up to Isaac and was like, “Go with me!” And because everyone always did what Drew wanted, the ones inviting him didn’t really care either, and voila, Isaac was at a stupid party.

Isaac threw his drink in the trash, contemplating making his disappearance now. It wasn’t like anyone would notice, even Drew. He was probably too busy getting comfy with everyone else at the party.

The freckled teen stopped for a moment, briefly considering this. If Drew got really popular, and everyone liked him more than Edward, would he become the new king?

Isaac rolled his eyes. This sh#t wasn’t supposed to make sense.

He pushed the front door open, walking out into the surprisingly brisk, windy cold.

“Sh#t, why didn’t I bring a coat?” he mumbled. Just lovely. He would have to make the fifteen minute walk home in this dumb weather.

Maybe if he ran…

“If it isn’t the nerd,” he suddenly heard behind him.

Isaac internally growled in frustration.

So close to escape.

“What’re you doing at a cool kid party?” Edward asked, standing in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his red sports jacket he was seldom seen without.

“I got dragged along by DJ,” Isaac responded bitterly, rubbing his arms. “Literally just about to leave.”

“Ah yeah, this party does kind of suck, all things considered,” Ed said with a shrug, his somewhat snobby tone fading just a bit. “Freakin’ Dreamboy, though. Everyone is obsessed with him.”

“That’s because he’s a living rendition of a teddy bear. Maybe he’ll usurp your damn throne.”

“Hah. Like that would happen. He’d at least have to start playing football or basketball and start working out five days a week.”

“I dunno, small and cuddly kids are on the rise.” Isaac walked down the porch stairs. “Anyway, I’m going home. Good day.”

“It’s pretty cold out, isn’t it?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, and?”

“I’m thinking about leaving too. Why don’t I give you a ride home?”

Isaac stopped in his tracks.

“What,” he said.

“I mean, you could just walk home in the cold, that’s certainly an option…”

Isaac turned around, a skeptical look on his face. “All right, what do you want from me.”

“Nothing. I just don’t see why not,” Ed insisted.

Isaac was quiet for a few moments, thoroughly thinking it over. The car ride would only be five minutes or so.

In the end, there were more pros than cons, his childish personal feelings being the main motivator for him not wanting to.

“… fine. Where’s the car,” Isaac finally said.

“That’s it in the driveway,” Ed told him, jumping off the steps and running towards it.

Why would Edward be doing this?

The bastard. He was probably trying to get Isaac to lower his guard, give him some sense of security, or get something out of him later.

Wait, what if this was a trap? He was getting into Ed’s car–everything about that screamed bad idea. Just a few months ago, this would’ve meant something like getting left in the middle of no where, at best.

Isaac pulled the passenger door of the van open. Ed’s car was surprisingly clean. There wasn’t even anything on the seat.

Then again, Ed probably gave someone else a ride here and it was just still clean from…

“What are you doing? Get in,” Ed told him, already igniting the engine.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Isaac said, swinging in and closing the door. He glanced around the car, observing the interior. There wasn’t a whole lot to look at, save the planet-shaped charm hanging from the mirror and several papers and magazines in the dash. Isaac looked down at Ed’s car keys, which had a superhero keychain attached to it and, of course, a membership chip for the local gym.

Ed backed the car out of the driveway. He almost hit the mailbox in the process.

“Dude, can you even car?” Isaac asked.

“At least I have a license, unlike someone,” Ed grumbled under his breath.

“Tch. Fair.”

The majority of the car ride was awkwardly quiet. Surprisingly, neither of them said a word. Ed just drove, and Ink gazed out the window into the lamp-lit streets.

For some reason… Isaac was feeling a small, inexplicable nervousness. Some strange tightness in his chest.

He looked back over at Ed, who was just focusing on the road.

What if… he really was trying to be nice? What if he didn’t want something out of it? What if Isaac was just being unreasonable and immature for way too long?

It was interesting. Ed was almost bearable to be around when he wasn’t talking.

Almost.

Before he realized it, the car pulled into the parking lot of the complex Isaac lived at.

“This is where you live, right?” Ed asked, looking over at him.

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Isaac replied, snapping out of his trance.

“What are you looking at, nerd?”

“Umm, you?” Isaac said rather matter-of-fact.

Ed looked away. “W-why. Is there something on my face?”

“No, just…” Isaac trailed off, not sure why he was still sitting there looking at Ed, who leaned onto the steering wheel. Isaac took his seatbelt off, still not able to tear his gaze away. “It’s nothing…”

Why did he feel so nervous?

Isaac reached for the car door, looking away.

“Um, Isaac…” Ed started, looking up from where his head was on the steering wheel. Isaac paused, glancing back at him.

Neither of them had any idea what to say. Ed slowly sat up, his and Isaac’s eyes locked. They both felt it. They had no idea what exactly it was they were feeling, but they felt it.

Suddenly, Ed’s hand rose to the side of Isaac’s head, and in an instant, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Isaac’s.

The smaller boy froze, completely still and eyes wide as they remained close enough that their foreheads touched.

Ed removed his hand and promptly turned away.

“… god, that was a mistake,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Error–” Isaac started, his senses finally catching up as he felt his face heating up. “Wait wait wait. Error.” He lifted a hand up to his own face. “Oh my god, Error.”

“Shut up, okay? I’m f#cking stupid. I know,” Ed grumbled.

“Hey. Edward Cullen. Look the hell at me,” Isaac said.

Ed looked back at him, shaking just a little bit.

“I’m gonna do something really f#cking stupid too,” Isaac said under his breath, quickly leaning in to kiss Ed. The other froze up in surprise, but soon began returning it, putting his hand behind Isaac’s head.

“This is such a bad idea,” Ed spoke.

“Everything about it…” Isaac replied.

They kept kissing, these thoughts becoming less important as it went on.


It was about one in the morning. Isaac stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

He reached over for his phone, squinting in the light from it. He noticed some concerned messages from Drew about his location from about an hour ago.

Isaac let out a sigh, replying with a simple “sorry, my phone was off. I went home early. wasn’t feeling great.”

He went over to his and Chris’s text conversation. The last text either of them had sent was three weeks ago…

Chris seemed so distant lately.

Sure, he’d been hanging out with Nevin, but nonetheless, it felt like he was just getting further and further away.

Isaac slowly started typing.

“hey Chris.”
“long time no text huh?”
“error and I kind of made out in his car. it was weird”
“whatever. you told me so…”

A ‘read’ notice appeared under it, but there were no signs of a response coming.

“are you there?”
“sorry, you’re probably too tired for this sh#t”

“good night”

Mr. Sunshine (Ethan) Part Two

Summary: It’s summer in Aruba and you’ve just landed a job at the most swanky hotel on the island, Riu Palace. It seems to be shaping up to be a pretty good summer with surfing, parties, bonfires and midnight swims. You were, however, not prepared for a certain brunette boy to show you the ways of living life.
Word Count: 2,464
Warnings: None.
A/N: The first part was more for you guys to get to know the characters. Hopefully you’ll love this one! And thank you SO much for 800 followers, I love you guys so so much xx

Masterlist.


Later on that night, you were standing in front of your floor to ceiling mirror, observing your white tunic dress. It was rather short but you had swimwear underneath it and it was adorable so you nodded in satisfaction, running your fingers through your hair as you stared at yourself.

A knock sounded through the door and you didn’t have to wait for long before Michelle came bursting through the door, grinning like she had just won the lottery when she spotted you. You raised an amused eyebrow at her, wondering what was wrong with her. It was when you bent over, the open palm of your hand supporting your weight on the wall, slipping on your sandals that she opened her mouth.

“You’re wearing your fuck me dress.” She said and you almost slipped, catching yourself in the last second with a gasp.

Keep reading

Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Peter Parker

Your name: submit What is this?


It was 1 in the morning and it has officially been November 1 for a whole hour. The party that Flash was having had probably just finished 45 minutes ago, according to MJ and Ned’s texts and posts online. Since I wasn’t much of a party-goer, I was babysitting my brother for the night while my parents went off to some hotel going on about “renewing their marriage.”

I had only just finished cleaning the apartment and picking up empty candy wrappers. I would have kept my brother from eating all the candy, but he had already eaten half of it by the time he got home without telling me, leaving me to figure out around 10 that he had eaten it as he practically bounced off walls. I just got my brother to get out of his Batman suit to shower, and a few minutes later, he was in his Spider-Man pyjamas, rubbing his eyes and begging me to tuck him in.

I chuckled at the small boy and rolled my eyes, thinking that if our parents figured out what happened today, we’d both be in trouble. I sighed, hands on my hips and a smile on my face as I nodded. “Alright,” I smiled, “Come on. Time for––”

“Y/N!” My brother exclaimed, now suddenly wide awake. 

“What?” I laughed. With his eyes wide and mouth agape, he pointed at the window, causing me to furrow my eyebrows. I turned around to see a familiar figure in a red and blue suit offering me a wave. Behind that mask and in his head, I reckoned that he was cursing himself. I smiled at him and waved before looking at my brother. “Shall we get you tucked––”

“Spider-Man!” He yelled, running past me and to the window, trying his best to open it. I sighed, knowing he likely wasn’t going to sleep until he at least spoke to his second-favourite hero, so I helped him open the window. “You’re Spider-Man!” My brother exclaimed, before turning to me. “Y/N! That’s Spider-Man!” He looked at the masked hero again.

“Hey, kid,” Peter greeted after clearing his throat.

“It’s Spider-Man,” my brother murmured, completely starstruck.

“Hey, Spidey––” I began, but was quickly corrected by my brother who replied, “It’s Spider-Man,” he insisted, making me chuckle and roll my eyes. “Hey, Spider-Man,” I corrected myself, “You want to come in? It’s pretty cold.”

“Y-yeah, that would be g-great,” he said, glancing at me. I stepped aside, and my brother quickly did the same after a second. Peter climbed through the window.

“Y-you’re my favourite hero!” My brother blurted out before blushing and covering his mouth. Peter chuckled and knelt down to face him.

“Really?” Peter replied, no doubt ecstatic.

“How about Batman?” I asked my brother, who glared at me in return, making it ridiculously hard for me to keep a straight face.

Batman’s never come to my window, Y/N!” My brother argued. I put my hands up in surrender. My brother looked back at Spider-Man and looked at his suit. “So cool,” he muttered.

“Yeah, it is. How about I show you some tricks some time, huh?” Spidey offered, making my brother nod fervently, his hair bouncing as he did so. “Anyways, what are you doing up, bud? It’s really late!”

“I was going to bed and you showed up at my window!” My brother answered.

“He ate all the candy and had a sugar rush for, like, three hours,” I told Spider-Man, who glanced at me before looking at my brother.

“Did not!” My brother lied, making me rise an eyebrow at him. “O-okay, maybe I did.” I nodded and chuckled, rolling my eyes.

“Maybe we should get to bed, don’t you think?” I asked.

“B-but Spider-Man––” My brother began, giving my puppy eyes and making my heart melt. I really was a sucker for those.

“No, no, she’s right,” Peter agreed. “We can meet up another time and I could show you more of my suit!” My brother sighed and nodded.

“W-wait,” he looked at me, “Can Spider-Man tuck me in tonight?” I looked at Peter.

“What do you say, Spider-Man? You up for the mission?” I asked.

“Of course I am,” Peter answered, glancing at me for a second. I smiled at him, and for a quick moment, we completely forgot my brother was there. For a moment, I thought about what it would be like to have a kid with Peter in the future. From what I was seeing, he was pretty good with kids. I didn’t know who was more adorable right now, my ecstatic 8-year-old brother, or my lovely 15-year-old boyfriend.

“Spider-Man, stop making googly eyes at my sister and come on!” My brother exclaimed, grabbing Peter’s hand and running off with him. I laughed and shook my head, continuing to clean, which didn’t take long. 

I walked to the kitchen and began to make hot chocolate. I imagined that my brother was interrogating Peter on being a hero, and maybe begging him to teach him to be a hero, too. After the water was heated and the chocolate mix stirred in, I put in the marshmallows and waited for Peter.

I heard the door close ever-so-quietly and in no time, my boyfriend walked into the kitchen. He sighed, removing his mask to reveal a tired but wide grin on his face. I offered him a mug, which he gladly took.

“Favourite hero, huh?” He mused, proud of himself, I imagine. Well-deserved, obviously. I could tell that he needed to hear it.

“Of course. You just replaced Batman,” I giggled and fixed his messy brown hair before resting my hand on his cheek. “How are you? How was your day?” I asked, a bit more serious. Peter sighed and took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Long, but better now,” he smiled at me. I smiled back at him. “Where are your parents?”

“At some hotel renewing their marriage,” I chuckled, retracting my hand and taking a sip of my hot chocolate. “I’ve got this whole apartment to myself… and my brother, of course,” I told him, gesturing to the apartment, which wasn’t really as big and grad as you’d think. It was a bigger apartment, compared to other’s, but given that four people stayed in it, it never felt as big as it was.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” he told me, making me raise an eyebrow.

“My parents having sex or having this apartment to my brother and myself?” I asked with a chuckle, making him scowl and roll his eyes.

“I did not need that mental image,” he told me, his voice strained. I laughed.

“Neither did I, but oh well,” I shrugged, smiling. I took another sip of my hot chocolate before placing it down on the black, granite countertop. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him sincerely. He smiled and put his mug down, too.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he replied, his face just inches away from mine now as he stepped forward. He leaned in closer and not a moment too soon, our lips met in a sweet kiss. After pulling away, he pulled me into a hug, and I hugged him back, my face buried in his shoulder. “I should probably go, shouldn’t I? It’s really late,” he sighed, pulling away. “Besides, Aunt May would probably be worried.”

“But, baby, it’s cold outside,” I told him, dead serious until he gave me a look that spelled exasperation. I chuckled.

“Halloween literally finished a few hours ago,” he told me.

“I know,” I hummed, “but, seriously, it’s freezing out there. You might get pneumonia and die or something and we can’t have that. Did you tell her you were going to Flash’s party or something?”

“Y-yeah, but––” That was all I needed to hear as I walked to my room and to my end table. “Y/N, what are you––” I clicked on May’s contact and called her, holding my phone to my ear. “Y/N––”

It rang three and a half times before she picked up with a cheerful, “Hello, Y/N! How are you?”

“Hi, Aunt May! I’m good! I was just wondering if––” Peter’s eyes widened and he was chasing me in a second, making me laugh and jump on and off my bed on the other side. “If Peter could stay the night. It’s freezing and my place is closer to Flash’s anyways, and my parents don’t mind so––” I ran away from Peter as he chased after me.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N. He might get sick if he comes back this way anyways. This blizzard came out of nowhere,” May commented. “Thank you for offering––”

“It’s no problem, really,” I said as I hid in the kitchen, my voice now quieter. “I hope you’ve had a wonderful Halloween––” I began before being cut off by my squeal as Peter took me from behind and wrapped his arms around me. “No! Peter, let me go!” I laughed.

“I’ll leave you two alone now,” May laughed, “Stay safe, you two!”

“Thanks, Aunt May!” I said, still laughing as she hung up. Peter set me down on the couch, nearly out of breath. “She said yes.”

“You’re impossible!” Peter exclaimed, making me laugh. “What am I going to sleep in?” He asked me. I shrugged.

“I can think of a few things,” I smiled, winking. Peter laughed and rolled his eyes at me. “No, seriously, you could sleep in my dad’s things, or––”

“Or naked?” He suggested. I rose my eyebrow at him.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Parker,” I joked, getting up and grabbing his hand and leading him to my room. I opened the bottom drawer. “Though, that’s an option as well,” I laughed, making Peter chuckle. I took out a pair of jogging pants and a jumper. Peter rose his eyebrow.

“And where did you get these?” He asked. I blushed.

“I’m a thief. You caught me red-handed. I got them from you,” I giggled, tossing them to him. He took his Stark Industries jumper.

“I was wondering where this went to,” he teased.

“It was comfy!” I defended, “Where does Stark get his Fleece?” I asked. Peter laughed. I smiled at him, his brown eyes glittering in the moonlight. I sighed and sat beside him. “I love you, you know that?”

Peter smiled at me, his face now tinged with a light pink. “I love you too.”

Based on the prompt by @cs-prompts: ‘It’s two am and we’re standing outside of our apartment building because someone pulled the fire alarm. You look cold and haven’t got a coat - do you want to share my blanket?

Source here


Killian Jones had the worst bloody luck.

After he got home from a tiring day (and evening) of work at the docks he’d only just managed to take a shower and throw on some flannel pants before collapsing on his bed and falling alseep.

Now, he found himself standing out in the bloody cold across the street from his new appartment building, surrounded by his fellow residents. The building’s fire alarm had send everyone outside in the dead of night. Killian, as he’d been drilled to do by his brother, did not waste any time on getting dressed or gathering his valuables - it’s not like he was so sentimental anyway. However, he did make a stop at the appartment next door, where he knew a woman, a beautiful woman to be exact and her son lived. Finding that the door was slightly open, but that his worries were not quite yet setteled, Killian knocked on the door and took a quick look inside. Satisfied that his neighbour and her lad had obviously fled the building, Killian found his own way outside.


Emma Swan was pissed. You would think that people would know better than to pull the fire alarm for no reason at 2 am. It’s illegal, annoying and most of all, a very stupid thing to do in the appartment complex where the town’s deputy lived. Emma Swan was not on duty tonight however, which is why she found herself waiting until Storybrooke’s fire department finally cleared the building so she could go back inside.

‘So mom, are you gonna arrest the bad guys that pulled the fire alarm? Maybe it was that grumpy looking man from downstairs’  whispered Henry. ‘I don’t know kid, I don’t think Leroy is usually awake this time of night. But I’m gonna let your uncle David handle this one. As soon as we can get back inside, we’re going back to sleep.’ Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Henry nodded and looked around for a bit. ‘Hey mom, isn’t that our neighbour Killian?, he looks cold don’t you think?’. Emma looked over to who Henry was referring too, the hot british guy, who’d been greeting her with a series of ‘goodmorning love’s ever since he moved in two weeks ago.

He definitely seems like a decent guy, which is good, but Emma decided that she does not have the time for anything as distracting as her hot neighbour. Now mister piercing blue eyes was standing there out in the cold, shirtless, and with the most adorable pyjama pants on. Not realising she’d been staring, Emma quickly turned her head & attention away from him when he sent her a smirk and a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘See something you like, love?’ After a few moments, Emma came to her senses. ‘Wait, how do you know his name is Killian?’. ‘I introduced myself’ said Henry simply. ‘According to aunt Mary Margaret we should be nice to our neighbours. Besides, he and Mary Margaret know eachother’.  

Emma hadn’t know that piece of information, but it didn’t change the fact she doesn’t like her son talking to strangers, seemingly having picked up on Mary Margaret’s & David’s tendency to only see the good in people.
Emma couldn’t deny that it was awfully cold though. It was wintertime in Maine after all. Figuring her hot neighbour, Killian, at least didn’t deserve to catch hypothermia, Emma made a quick decision and made her way over.

—-

Killian startled when he suddenly heard a soft, ‘uhm hi’ coming from next to him. Standing there was his beautiful, blonde and usually though looking neighbour, wrapped in a big fuzzy blanket. ‘Hello love, are you quite alright? I’m glad no harm has come to you or your boy’
‘Yeah, we’re fine. Actually, Henry noticed you must be pretty cold without a coat and all, so I figured we can share my blanket. Just for warmth though, don’t get any ideas. - And I’m not your love’
A bit surprised, but none the less touched by her offer, Killian replied ‘Why thank you love.. eh lass, if it’s not too much trouble, I could certainly use a little warmth. You don’t have to worry about me, I am a gentleman after all.’

‘I’m Emma by the way. Emma Swan’
Swan, I’m Killian Jones, at your service’

Killian Jones had the best bloody luck