you guys can definitely say hi

Ok so what if a Langst spy au??? Just hear me out……
•Shiro is still missing, everyone is expecting Keith to take over until they find Shiro
• they hear about prince lotor, but don’t have any information about him, so Allura and the blade of mamora are planning on sending in an undercover operative to have intel on him.
•lance accidentally walks in on the meeting, and over hears them talking about it.
• lance volunteers to go, thinking that this could be his chance to be able to lift his weight and not feel so much as the 7th wheel.
• Allura is not amused, refusing to send Lance in, cause she does care for him on some level, not that he knows this
• but Lance makes some really good points that it’s not exactly a secret that Lance and Keith don’t get along, that if Lance were to make a big enough argument with Keith, that it could get the Galra to be interested in trying to recruit him
• Allura concedes, cause it’s the best plan that she’s heard through the entire meeting. But she only lets him go on one condition: once they find Shiro, Lance has to come back as soon as possible.
•they all agree that the team shouldn’t know about the plan until after Lance has successfully infiltrated the Galra.
• the plan works great. And Lance is successfully apart of the Galra. And lotor is especially interested in Lance, which is good for the mission, not for Lance though.
•ALOT of creepy one-sided flirting. Lance promises to himself to apologize to Allura for all of his incessant flirting.
•bad news, is the team takes it HARD. First the lost Shiro and now Lance!
• hunk is just begging whatever god are out there that this is just some sort of nightmare and that he’ll wake up from it at any moment. He still believes that Lance will come back to the team.
• Pidge is pretty upset, and thinks that if they got Shiro back, then maybe he can talk some sense into Lance and bring him back.
•Keith is LIVID. He can’t believe that Lance betrayed them, that he had said all those things about him, and just turn his back on the team. Keith believes that Lance has completely turned his back on them, that he isn’t coming back.
• Allura can’t figure out how to tell the team that Lance didn’t actually betray them.
• fast forward to a week or two after the ‘betrayal’ they face off against lotor again, and lance as well.
• somehow Lance and Keith are fighting on a catwalk, about 5-6 stories high. And Keith isn’t holding back. He goes on and on about how lance is a traitor, and how he didn’t deserve to be apart of Voltron
• it definitely hurts lance, but lance has pretty much figured out that Allura hasn’t been able to tell the team yet. But he can’t tell Keith, or else his cover is blown.
•Keith takes swing at lance with his bayard, and puts a huge gash in his face.
• Keith kicks lance into the railing, only for it and lance to fall. But lance is able to catch himself barely on the catwalk, but his hand is too slippery, cover in his blood.
•lance calls for Keith, to help him. Lance knows Keith would let him fall.
•Keith lets him fall.
•it’s either, Keith was in a sort of angry frenzy that he didn’t realize lance was calling for him until it was too late, or something else.
•either way, Keith is sure that Lance is dead, and leaves. Not able to look at the dead body.
•but lance isn’t dead. He’s close to it, but not there yet.
•Lotor finds him and has haggar save his life. Of course, lance doesn’t come out of it whole.
• he had to have his complete spine replaced with one of haggar’s prosthetics. He has a scar on his face from Keith, and his arm had to be replaced as well. But he’s alive.
• to say that Allura is relieved when she gets communication from Lance is an understatement. Especially after Keith told them all that Lance was dead.
• lance still sends information and warnings about certain attacks and plans that the Galra have for months.
• then finally the others find Shiro, and Allura is so glad because that means that not only is Shiro back, but that Lance will come back as well.
• Lance sneaks back on to the castle during a battle between Lotor and the team. (Carrying a flash drive with as much information about lotor and the Galra as it can hold)
• Allura calls a retreat and the other paladins go to the bridge once they have successfully wormholed out of there. You can definitely say that they are surprised to see her talking to some random guy who looks a lot like…oh my god it’s Lance!
•you can definitely say that there are some mixed emotions.
•hunk is so happy! He knew it! Lance was alive! He’s back! He’s going to be okay!
•pidge is kind of weary of it. She’s not sure what to think, he might be back, or it might be a trick.
• Shiro is just confused. the others didn’t tell him about Lance ‘betraying’ them, or that they thought he died. He’s just trying to figure out where Lance came from.
• Keith is drawing his bayard and putting himself in between lance and the others, ready to strike.
•of course NOW is when Allura finally tells them all that Lance was undercover and spying on the Galra. Of course their pissed that they didn’t tell them, mostly at Allura cause she was suppose to as soon as Lance was in.
• Keith now feels like he is the biggest screw up in the room, cause he sees the scar on lance’s face. He realizes that he left his friend to die, even if he was under he idea that he betrayed them. He sees how lance’s eyes go stone cold when he looks at him. He knows that he lost Lance’s trust.

Irate

(Part 2)

Summary: 

Y/N’s curious, clumsy, and has a knack for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. Bucky’s a hot-headed prick with a dark past and communication issues. Both are paired for training, and neither party is all too thrilled. 

Word count: 1200 


“This is the training room.”

You nod even though you’re barely processing anything you’re being told.

Three days ago you’d woken up in an abandoned warehouse, with no idea where you were or how you’d gotten there. There were significant gaps in your memory and a you were in lot of pain. Then someone in a red metal suit had entered your field of vision, frowning, and you’d passed out, wondering if it was all some kind of dream. When you’d come to for the second time, you were in the infirmary and this man, (Steve?), started saying something  about a group of enhanced individuals and you being one of them. It took all your willpower to not pass out again.

“We don’t know what your abilities are, but given your enhancements, people are going to come after you. It’s important that you learn to defend yourself.”

You’re still not sure what ‘abilities’ he’s talking about, or what he means by 'enhancements’.

“Training is usually carried out by Natasha or Wanda,” Steve’s speaking again, barely taking notice of you staring at him with eyes wider than plates. “But since they’re away on a mission, we’ll have to find someone else to train you.”  

You nod your head, still trying to understand everything. The names are meaningless to you, and you’re not too keen on getting trained by anyone, especially not if they all have the same stressed out demeanor that Steve seems to radiate. There’s a dull headache beginning to throb at the back of your skull, and honestly, you just need to close your eyes for a bit.

“We should go speak to Fury.”

As if you know who that is. You just nod and follow after him as he hurries along.


Everything about Director Nick Fury is unnerving, from the immaculate state of his office to the way his eye seems to be looking right through you. You swallow hard as he addresses Steve, keeping his eye trained on you the entire time.

“And we don’t know what her abilities are?”

You grit your teeth, still uncomfortable with all the talk of your abilities and your supposed enhancement. You can barely remember your own name.

“Not yet.”

Nick sighs and seems to be in deep thought. After a moment, he turns his body to you. “Can you shoot a gun?”

You look at him incredulously. A gun, you? You could barely hold a kitchen knife without fumbling with it. To hold, no, to shoot a gun? If this was any other situation, you might have laughed. Instead, you shake your head. “No, sir.”

He turns back to Steve. “Well, she’s going to have to learn. Barnes is the best sniper we’ve got. He’ll train her.”

Steve winces, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something else, but Fury turns his attention to the screen in front of him, clearly dismissing the two of you.


Steve leads you through the maze-like halls of the compound, until finally, you’re standing in front of large double doors. He pauses and looks to you with a sigh. He seems beat down, dark circles and pallid face. You almost sympathize, but then realize you probably look much the same.

“Bucky’s a good guy, Y/N. Just remember that.”

You’re not sure what he means, or why that’s even relevant, but you don’t have time to think as Steve pushes open the doors and strides inside before coming to a stop in a living-room of sorts, where two people are seated on the couch. Neither of them seem too happy to be in the other’s presence.

Upon seeing Steve, both of them stand, and the one to the right smiles brightly. He’s the first person you’ve seen that looks relaxed at the compound, wearing sweats and a t-shirt and an expression of genuine interest on his face.

“Captain,” he greets, but it’s more out of mock respect than a soldier-like salute, and even Steve’s eyes crinkle. You can tell their friendship goes a long way.  His brown eyes glance at you. His smile doesn’t waver, and it’s so contagious that you can’t hold back the smile that makes its way onto your lips.

If this is Barnes, then maybe training won’t be as bad as it sounds.

Your spare a glance at the person to his left, dressed in the same relaxing attire but looking nowhere near as calm. Every part of this man’s body language screams stress, from head to toe. Upon seeing you, his scowl deepens, and you drop your smile.

“Buck, you’re taking this round of training.”

The guy to the left grins and turns to you. “And I’m guessing she’s the one who needs training?”

Steve nods and you feel your erratic heartbeat slow down significantly. The warning that Steve had given you earlier disappears to the back of your head; the guy seems so chill and laidback, it’s a breather. You smile back, until–

“Oh man, good luck.”

The confusion must show on your face, because the guy turns to Mr. Scowls-A-Lot and claps him on the back. “Meet our resident Grinch, Bucky Barnes.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and Bucky glares at you, fingers curled into a fist. You want to ask him what put him in such a bad mood, but you’re not sure you’ll stay alive long enough to hear the answer.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, Steve?” Bucky’s jaw clenches and his face is slowly turning red. Even Steve, who seems to be in charge here, grimaces. With a sigh, he follows Bucky to the other corner of the room. You plop down onto the sofa.

“I’d say don’t worry but, I’d definitely worry.” You turn to the first guy, and he holds out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Y/N,” you shake it, then gesture to the duo in the corner, having a pretty heated conversation. “Is he always this…”

“Grumpy? Only on a good day.” When he sees your face pale even more, Sam laughs. “I’m just kidding. He takes some warming up to, but he’s not a bad guy.”

He repeats exactly what Steve had said, and for whatever reason, the words aren’t reassuring in the least. Bucky and Steve’s conversation seems to have escalated to loud whispers now, and you catch certain phrases here and there, “I don’t know… Nobody seems to… Can’t be trusted.”

The last one hits you hard, and you want to be angry, but Bucky’s right. You barely remember anything about yourself and you have supposed abilities that you’re pretty much in the dark about; even you can’t trust yourself.

The clock on the wall shows the time to be just past two in the morning, and just as the second hand makes its way around the face for the second time, Bucky walks up to you, fists clenched and breathing heavily through his nose.

“Meet me in the training room tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp.” He’s less than thrilled about the whole ordeal, and you can only match his level of discomfort.

As he storms out of the room, you throw your head back onto the couch and groan.


Tags below cut: 

Keep reading

Former Employment

Summary: Professor Stilinski is definitely not expecting to see his favorite porn star among the students of his Human Sexuality class.

Notes: Inspired by this ask. I don’t do power imbalance, so nothing happens until Derek is out of Stiles’ class. Also, while there are mentions of porn, there is no actual smut in this. Sorry. (On AO3)

@nogitsunelichen and @cobrilee – this is probably not what you had in mind, but I wrote it!


When Stiles pushes open the doors to the lecture hall, it’s completely empty. He blinks down at his watch in surprise, and realizes he made the walk across campus faster than he realized. There’s always an adjustment period at the beginning of every semester, where he figures out where his classrooms are and how long it’ll take to get there.

Well, he might as well utilize this time, then. He sits at the desk at the front of the room, and gets back to writing his proposal for a class on the influence of society on gender.

He gradually hears students come in as he works, but he keeps focused, because he knows he has at least another ten minutes before class starts.

But when he hears a student ask, “Hey, are you the professor?” he has to look up, and he begins to wish he’d done it a lot sooner.

Keep reading

Hot Like Burning

Sterek, 2.5K words, Teen

AU, Firefighter Derek

In which Derek is the grumpy neighborhood firefighter, and Stiles is a bit of a lovestruck idiot.


Stiles winces as he turns the corner, unbearably nervous like he always is whenever he drives Lydia’s car, and pulls into the fire station. He offered this morning to help her with any errands she needed, and she asked him to take her car to the fire station and have them install the car seat. Stiles had no idea this was even a thing—seriously, how hard is it to put in a car seat?—but unsurprisingly, Lydia is as fastidious about her unborn child’s safety as she is about everything else.

He parks just outside the front door, careful not to block the big bays with the two fire trucks, and wanders inside. “Hello?” he calls out. There’s a noise coming from the other side of the fire truck, so Stiles keeps walking in that direction, then nearly trips over his own two feet.

There’s a guy, crouched down as he washes the wheel well of the fire truck, and Stiles is 101 percent sure that he’s the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He’s frowning, as if he’s pissed at the task in front of him, but it only serves to show off the sharp cut of his jaw under a very nicely-shaped short beard. He’s wearing a tight short-sleeved SFFD t-shirt, which is wet in patches and very clearly showing off the muscled physique underneath.

“Holy shit.”

The guy’s head jerks up at that, his eyes wide, and his gaze locks with Stiles’ for a long second before slowly drifting down the rest of his body. Stiles damn near forgets how to breathe because yep, this impossibly hot dude is most definitely checking him out.

Stiles has never believed in love at first sight, and he still doesn’t, but as of this moment he most certainly does believe in…familiarity at first sight? Cosmic connection? Just plain lust? He has no fucking clue.

But he yelps a little in surprise, then actually manages to trip over nothing, only catching himself by clutching the pillar next to him, which oh fuck, is actually the fire pole. He finally rights himself, grimacing with both arms spread for balance, and then slaps a hand over his eyes with a plaintive groan.

“Oh my god. Hi, hello, my name is Stiles. Uh, any chance we can start over and pretend that this excruciatingly embarrassing encounter didn’t happen?”

Keep reading

i might be looking into things a bit too much, but i just thought i’d share some things i noticed. 

so in today’s upload, we’re met with this:

he’s been with us all along” ––– now, bare with me for a second on this… what if this is a subtle reference to dark? mark started playing scp containment in 2012 in the beginnings of his channel. and around that time was when the whole ‘darkiplier’ character started to spring up in the community as well.

now, mark has started playing scp again, and coincidentally enough, dark has returned as well (returning in ‘a date with mark’, and ‘don’t play this game’). which poses that question: has dark been here with all of us the entire time, but only now started to make his move?

looking into this video, i picked up a few things… there’s one scene where mark is in the elevator and becomes attacked by an unseen being. 

You can feel something near you, but you are unable to see it. Perhaps it’s time is now.” it reads.

hmmm… well, looking back on it all, dark has disappeared for a while from the channel (only appearing on rare occasions) and mark didn’t seem to notice. which brings me back to the idea that dark has been there all along, but he’s been waiting for the right moment to come back. which is where the “perhaps it’s time is now” ties in. and now is the moment that dark’s been waiting for.

but it can’t all be coincidence that dark started to come back with the fact that mark is playing an old game he used to play, right?

what about this, maybe?

ah, a slender game! we haven’t seen one of those on mark’s channel for a while either. but there’s only one character who was associated with slender and even got around so much as to get an interview with him…

this guy… wilford.

and mark has mentioned in one of his tumblr posts, saying to “buckle the fuckle up” when someone stated that they hope wilford will return. which this could pretty much only mean that the bubblegum bitch is going to reappear again.

wilford is definitely not who he says he is. there’s more to him. i mean, in a date with mark, the guy literally teleports you to the bathroom where you find out that you’re actually chica. so i hope it’s safe to assume that wilford, in one way or another, can deal with time and space. so, looking back at the title “a scare from the past”, perhaps wilford is the one who is bringing back all these old games? and because of this, dark is returning as well?

the egos are definitely up to something. there’s got to be more to it than just a big coincidence. do they have something planned?? are they plotting something??? i just???/

A Little Like Whiplash

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So can I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.




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

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

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

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

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

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

anonymous asked:

Hi Sam, why does Nick Spencer still have a job? I may be naive, but I just don't get it...

Because most of the guys he works with are Just Like Him, I suspect. I mean, I don’t work at Marvel so I can’t say, but comics and especially the two big houses are very much an Old Boys Network. 

Nick Spencer isn’t producing his reeking shit in a vacuum – he hands it to other people who approve it, package it, and come up with ways to market it to you as if it’s not a rancid pile of garbage. So while he’s the face of Comic Book Assholes right now, you have to remember that there are a bunch of guys standing behind him, telling each other they definitely aren’t white supremacists, that their entire readership is just super sensitive, and diversity is certainly what’s killing their sales, not the fact that they’re appalling sacks of shit masquerading as human beings. 

I mean, TLDR institutionalized white supremacy, I’m afraid. :/

i can’t comprehend ppl saying kibum hates/dislikes shinee members or he’s the cold hearted diva of the group when the only things he posts on ig are his dogs, some selfies, personal gigs AND the members (group pics or even pics of them alone). and its also the little things, how he keeps asking for jonghyun on ig ever since he rmbrd his password. how he can’t throw a note written by minho saying “kibum i love you - choi minho” like some middle school crush. how he talks abt taemin and jinki from time to time without ppl asking for it. he loves this group as much as they love him. it might have been true during the first yrs but now he definitely doesnt fit in that cold persona u guys want him to be. its just not realistic.

anonymous asked:

The Haha Musume Donburi Oppai girls

Ah yes, a modern classic as far as the lewd ova scene is concerned, and for good reason! This OVA is undoubtedly on of the best softcore hentai animations to ever be made, better that 80-90% percent of any hentai ova/series out, and that’s including the good ones, without any genital penetration! It it’s pretty much what all hentai should be striving for in terms of quality, consistency, and weight in animation. It certainly helps that it
was animated with the help of the fantastical Kaneko Hiraku(kirin999) Animator of Victoria Maid Maria no Hoshi, and Hoods Entertainment, the premier animation company in the best bouncing boobs in the ecchi-hentai industry. You migth remember them from such hits as Manyuu Hikenchou
(there’s a show i need to discuss), Seikon no Qwaser and Kagaku na Yatsura. In short, this guy knows his curves, and he knows
that foreplay can sometimes be a main dish for greater.
But enough about the the more technical side, let’s get to what you fools are here for!

As the saying goes, age before beauty, let’s start with Sakie.

A mom with a lot going on, she a definitive! She definitely fits the bill, her dream-state like eyes give of a sort of gentleness, a passiveness from years of nurturing. The cool blue helps with this, as it is a calming color. Her nose is well defined and sharp, contrast with her daughter’s more moe-esque nose to pull of an increased sense of age and maturity. Her hair is the perfect for her character, being too long would give off a sort of youth that she isn’t meant to inspire, it remains short and yet elegant, framing her face very well. Her lips are emphasized as full and with a sort of lip-gloss to bring out their natural color, making them seem softer. She has a slight chub going on showing she has some age on her, she’s put on a few pounds. You might actually recognize some of her designs beats from another mom I discussed.

Not a coincidence!

Her clothes are nice, warm, pastel colors to hone in on her motherly nature which makes her seem soft and inviting, there’s a relaxing effect similar to drinking warm soup.

Compare it to her underwear, which is a dark purple and lacy, showing a more sensual side to her, more sultry, more naughty. Excellent juxtaposition of color! Pay attention to her expressions as well, notice a common theme?

She maintains a soft, almost apologetic expression at all times, like a doting mom who is doing her best. She does and let you do to her whatever is needed, even if it might be a bit much for her, just for your benefit, that the feeling you get from just looking at her. I’ll be honest, I only thought she was okay before doing this analysis, high-mid tier, but all these little details to capturing this motherly nature she’s meant to invoke definitely give me a new appreciation for her. There was a lot put into her(and a lot i want to put into her), and it’s masterfully accomplishes what she set’s out to do!

Now to move onto Imouto-san.

Rumi is quite clearly Onii-chan bait, from her girly-girl dress, pigtails, big moe eyes and small moe nose. 

And she does her job well.

Her mom is just as guilty for serving a certain demographic, but it’s far more noticeable in Rumi’s design, especially when compared to her mothers, the pigtails are a dead give away. That said, that doesn’t mean it’s bad as a design, not as strong as her mother’s however.

Plus her clothes are quite clearly made for a girl much younger than herself. Sakie’s design is a more subtle while still getting the point across quite well of what she is and what she’s like. Rumi’s does so as well, but it’s a bit more on the nose, so to speak. I also don’t think blue was the best color for her first outfit, i mean it helps contrast with her mother, but her dress baby-blue dress doesn’t convey the sort of light-tsudere imouto-san she is. I would have opted for a more light red/pinkish or stuck with the yellow she would get later on instead, it could also help build a color-associative relationship, showing that mother and daughter were connect just by looking at them. 

This yellow and orange underwear suits her much better, probably why she wears it for longer in the Ova. In communicates a similar warmness to her mother, but more energy and personality thanks to the dark orange marks, but underneath it, she’s really soft and innocent with the light orange bows and white flap on the panties. While her design might be lacking at times, her personality helps make her more attractive to the viewer.

There’s more eb and flow with her, being the little sister type with a dash of tsundere qualities, just enough to make her reluctant and not be able to totally handle her emotions, tripping over herself a bit, making cute, willing, girly and off-guard moments all the more attractive because it’s like she opening up to us.

In short these girls are 10/10 each thanks to careful character design and enjoyably troped personalities.

Feel free to send in more requests of anime/anime-esque girls you want me to talk about!

Wrong Turn

Context: Only three of my party members are around (Feng; Half-Orc Fighter. Senna; Half-Elf Ranger. Cam; Human Ranger) and two NPC’s (Akra; Dragonborn Paladin. Alric; Human [No real class]). So, after their latest escapades escaping some guards in an evil empire, they decide to rest at a bathhouse and clean up. The ladies (Akra and Senna) went to the female side and the men (Alric and Feng) went to the male side. Cam was busy eating mutton back at the tavern.

DM (Me): So, Akra and Senna are resting in their side of the bathhouse

Senna (OOC): Senna’s just kind of tentatively waiting out of the water for the moment

Cam: I want to go to the bathhouse now

DM: Well, roll a 1d20

Cam: *Proceeds to roll a 1*

Feng (OOC): He’s just gonna rise up in the women’s room. Because that’s how Cam is.

*Laughter comes from entire group* DM: You know, sure. While Akra sits in the water and Senna is tentatively waiting. Suddenly, a face pops up from the water, and it’s Cam.

Akra screams and so does Senna as they see this. Given the thin walls, the guys in the other room can hear this.

Feng: Is Akra getting kinky in there?“

Senna: Get away from me!

Feng: Yeah, definitely getting kinky in there.

Eventually Cam is kicked out and makes his way to the men’s side.

Alric: So uh, what happened in there?

Cam: Well, uh, you see, I made a wrong turn.

Date Night

Request: Hi! Can you do a short fluffy imagine for Jasper? Like maybe he and the reader go on a date and try to be a ‘normal’ couple or something like that, do it however you want! Thanks! 

Pairing: Jasper x human!reader

Summary: ‘normal’ date night for a rather abnormal couple 

Warnings: Suggestive things, fluff 

Originally posted by alwaysshamelessdeer

Keep reading

the roommate (part 1/?)

I had some free time tonight, so here’s the first bit of a thing I’m working on. ~500 words. 

~

Stiles’ mysterious new roommate shows up right as Stiles and Scott are sliding their second tray of ginger snaps out of the oven. Stiles thought it’d be a nice way to welcome him, break the ice a little, all that. He’s also planning to make some sugar cookies in case D. Hale has less adventurous tastes. Never let it be said that Stiles Stilinski doesn’t plan ahead.

“I’ll get it!” Stiles shouts, and opens the door still wearing his cartoon cat apron and oven mitts. Cue immediate regret and the world’s most horrifying full-body blush.

And maybe Stiles should’ve suspected that someone with a username like camaro89 wouldn’t want to sit around the kitchen table eating cookies and playing Scrabble, but still. This guy looks like he could be a volunteer firefighter or ex-marine or maybe, given the glare that’s currently melting Stiles into the floor, something closer to professional assassin.

No doubt about it, Hale could squish Stiles underfoot like an insignificant bug if he wanted to. (His eyes say he totally wants to.)

This would probably be the appropriate time for Stiles to introduce himself. Instead, he just gapes unattractively, because he has no social skills with people who are not Scott.

“You’re the Polish kid with the spare room,” Hale finally asks. No question mark anywhere in that sentence.

Stiles nods mutely.

Hale nods back, like that’s that, and shoulders his way into the apartment. Stiles scrambles backwards to avoid getting caught in the face by the dude’s duffle bag.

Scott pokes his head out from the kitchen. “Yo, dude, your key’s already in your room. First door on the right. You need any help with anything? We made cookies if you want some.”

Hale pauses ominously in the living room. The stare he fixes Scott with could strip flesh off bones.

“Or not,” Scott amends hastily. “Whatever works for you.”

That gets no response. Hale goes off down the hall without a backwards glance. He closes his door quietly but firmly behind him. There’s a click as he pushes the lock in, and then dead silence.

Stiles won’t lie, he’s feeling pretty intimidated right now.

Scott shivers. “That guy is a serial killer.”

“Is not,” Stiles says, unconvincingly.

Scott squints suspiciously in the direction of Hale’s bedroom. “He so is, oh my god. Everybody knows serial killers are, like, the only people on the planet who don’t like cookies.”

Stiles is pretty sure he didn’t know that, but it makes sense.

“This is why you don’t go shopping for roommates on Craigslist, Stiles.”

It’s definitely too late now to un-rent that room, but maybe Stiles can quietly flee back to Poland while Hale is sleeping. If he sleeps, that is. Maybe he just does push-ups in his room all night, or lies in a coffin staring up at the ceiling and digesting the blood of his victims.

“Anyway.” Stiles shoves at Scott’s shoulder. “C’mon, move, I want to drown my sorrows in ginger snaps.”

“I’m barricading the kitchen,” Scott says. 

(tbc)

EDIT: it has been continued.

That’s What Friends Are For

Originally posted by alltimewolf


Pairing: Jeff Atkins x fem!reader

Request: 46 😊

46 - “Can I kiss you right now?”

Warnings: none

Word count: 785

Sorry it’s short.

Everybody, before you read this, go follow @escapeintape because she’s cool as hell and an amazing writer. She also requested this.

Also, feel free to criticize me.

Keep reading

babybatbrat  asked:

alright but what is on the pinterest board that nursey's mom makes when nursey starts dating chowder? (or dex if that comes easier)

HOH

  • at first she wanted to go with pink and like a soft teal for their colors
    • her baby looks good in pink
    • her baby’s baby loves teal (and doesn’t look bad at all in it)
  • but then she remembered that derek’s favorite flowers are sunflowers?
  • and chris likes lavender a lot
    • “do i change it to purple and yellow?”
    • “mustard and lilac?”
      • it’s a struggle, y’all
  • she ends up going with a blue-green jewel tone, cream, and gold accents
  • instead of bouquets, she finds little gold circlets that you can twist flowers into
  • mrs. nurse puts marigold centerpieces in
    • they’re fucking beautiful
  • she also finds these little pins that you can thread a tendril of lilac through
    • they’d look great on a cream colored three piece yves st. laurent suit
    • or a deep blue comme de garcons double breasted peak lapel 30 30
    • i mean, she is yanaha nurse, a famous model
    • she knows a guy or twelve
      • she’s just saying
  • dr. nurse sees her ridiculous human being of a wife making another fucking pinterest board
    • “yaya, baby” she says.
    • “yes, alda?” she says innocently, definitely not hiding her laptop
    • “they’ve been dating para like three months”
    • “there’s no time like the present?
  • nursey is friends with his mother on pinterest but doesn’t often check it
  • he decides to one day
    • this is a mistake
  • there are rings, suits, centerpieces, shoes, ideas for venues, places for honeymoons, everything
  • he might panic a little because his first thought isn’t “my mom is being super weird”
    • his first thought is “chris would really like this”
      • it’s pretty scary to be thinking that when he’s, like, barely into his twenties and has never really had domestic fantasies before
  • “mama,” he says to her, “i think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself”
    • “you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
    • “yeah–’
    • “yOU ARE? THAT’S SO GREAT” 
    • “but i’m, like… twenty”
    • “that’s fair”
    • “and you didn’t ask me about anything”
    • “mm… and chris is chinese, isn’t he? I should ask his mother if she has any ideas, i don’t just want to dump all our traditions and stuff on them without asking for her opinion, do i?”
    • “mAMA NO”
    • “i’m kidding, baby. you’re right, i’ll slow it down”
    • “thank you mama” and he hangs up
  • chris texts him
    • [text]: hey, uh, derek?
    • [text]: ??? whatsup
    • [text]: it’s kinda weird pls don’t judge me
    • [text]: 👀👀👀
    • [text]: not that kinda weird omg
    • [text]: boo lol what is it then
    • [text]: (link)
  • it’s chowder’s mom’s pinterest board for their wedding
Headcannons: Your First Sleepover With Them.

a/n: I hope you all enjoy!

Darry:

-Darry was really worried that the boys would scare you away.

-He would ask them to tone down the crazy.

-But of course they would be just as loud and obnoxious as ever.

-While Darry cooked you sat with him and watched him with a fond smile.

-Late that night while you two were laying in bed he would apologize for all of the guys.

-You would call him crazy.

-You loved his family and his friends.

-And you made sure to tell him that.

-The next morning you got up to make everyone breakfast.

-Darry insisted that you didn’t have to because you were the guest.

-But you loved how domestic it felt.

-The boys say you make the best pancakes.

-They all want to keep you around forever.

-And Darry figures he just might.


Sodapop:

-Sodapop is just excited to be able to hold you close to him all night.

-He is really excited for your arrival and makes sure all your favorite foods are at his house.

-You guys go to bed pretty early but it’s mostly so you two can cuddle.

-You think he’s pretty adorable when he’s tired.


Ponyboy:

-He’s definitely nervous at first.

-But of course you two watched the sunset together.

-And that calmed his nervousness.

-You two would lay facing each other.

-And hold hands.

-You two would have the best late night talks.

-He would fall asleep first.

-And you would kiss his cheek before you fell asleep as well.


Two-Bit:

-Two-Bit definitely wants to build a fort with you.

-You will gather up every single pillow blanket and sheet in the house.

-And you two would actually get into it.

-And when you actually got into the fort things were so comfortable and warm.

-You two slept in the fort and woke up early the next day.

-You shifted the fort so you could still sit in it and watch cartoons while you ate breakfast.


Dally:

-Your first sleep over wouldn’t be planned.

-It would be a random surprise for both of you but you didn’t mind.

-He would give you one of his t-shirts to wear.

-And you wouldn’t want to give it back the next day.

-Dally is actually kind of cuddley when he’s tired.

-And you love laying with him.

-The next morning you two would go out to breakfast.


Steve:

-You’d sleep over Steve’s for the first time because you two were hanging out and it got to late for you to go home.

-When you two got to his house you’d eat a midnight snack of ice cream.

-You’d never been to his room before so when you were alone in there for a moment you liked to look around.

-When you two finally went to bed he was definitely the big spoon for you.

-And you absolutely loved sleeping by his side.


Johnny:

-Johnny wouldn’t bring you back to his house.

-He wouldn’t tell you why for a while until you saw the bruises on him.

-So you invited him over your house.

-You hadn’t been going out that long.

-And you figured it might be early in the relationship for a sleep over.

-But you did not want him going back to his parents.

-When he showed up at your house one night you made him hot chocolate.

-And when you want to sleep you held each other close all night.

she-is-made-of-outer-space  asked:

We live next door to each other and I can see you through the window while you’re dancing to your iPod in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and God you’re a dork” AU. Please! Your bellarke fics are positively wonderful!

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you like it! AO3

Living in college apartments is… not glamorous. Walls are thin, pipes are thinner, and working air conditioning is a luxury. But it’s not terrible, Clarke finds, as long as you have excellent roommates to share in how much it objectively sucks. Raven and Anya fit that bill, so she considers herself lucky.

Plus, their windows open into an alleyway between their apartment building and the next. Which might not sound like a plus, but when the alternative is street facing windows that do nothing to stop the sounds of drunk college students when you’re trying to sleep the night before a midterm—the difference is staggering.

So, suffice it to say, Clarke largely likes her apartment. It’s great, for what it is.

Until it betrays her.

The first thing Bellamy Blake says when he comes in for his shift at the bookstore—the Monday morning shift, that, unfortunately, she shares—is, “Nice moves last night, Princess.”

Most of the time, Bellamy is full of shit, but as he shucks off his jacket the smirk on his face says he’s getting away with something, so she quickly runs through the events of the previous night, searching for any instances of embarrassment he might have been privy to.

…and comes up with nothing. She didn’t go out after she’d come back from class, and she and Raven didn’t get drunk, precluding any chance that she’d sent out some drunken snapchats he might have seen. (She has him on snapchat for bookstore-related emergencies, alright?) In fact, she spent most of the night working on her chem lab assignment, finally finishing around midnight, so really, there’s nothing for him to have seen.

So she scoffs, dismissive, and keeps working, only mildly interested in what kind of scheme he’s running.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, clicking through their schedule to see if they have any deliveries scheduled today.

He grins at her, wide, just when she spares him a glance, and she has to physically force it to not affect her. Because Bellamy Blake might be a snarky asshole, but that doesn’t make him any less… well, hot. Which is a whole other level of unfair.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone needs to jam to Taylor Swift once in a while. It’s a good de-stressor. I’m not judging.”

Keep reading

marino-kun  asked:

Do you take prompt? What about Stiles having a secret crush on Derek but when saw him, taking care Scott's son, he fell in love.

I’m not much of a kid fic person, so this took me a while, but I tried. Hopefully it’s kind of what you were angling for!

*

“Do you think I’m ready for fatherhood?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not freaking out about this. He’s not.

Boyd says flatly, “Stilinski, you’re twenty-one years old. You’re supposed to know how to use a condom by now.“

Stiles’ hand spasms and he accidentally squirts a huge glob of ketchup on his mound of curly fries. Fuck. He has the ideal ketchup-to-curly-fry ratio down to a science, and this is not it. “No, absolutely not what I meant. It’s just. Did you know Derek had a kid?”

Boyd meditatively takes a bite of his burger. “No. But the nice thing about Derek is that he doesn’t go in for personal talk.”

Stiles shoots him a weird look. Of course Boyd would think that was nice. Stiles, though, has been trying to break down Derek’s walls even just a little bit for months now—sitting with him in class, sharing his notes, studying with him in the library and getting late-night waffles together afterwards, little by little pulling Derek out of his shell. He’d thought he was getting somewhere, but obviously not, not if Derek failed to mention this kid even existed.

Which he does. Stiles knows, because he can see him right now, over by Prof. Martin’s pool. Apparently his name is Jamie.

He’s one of only two kids here, which is not really unexpected given that this is the end-of-semester party for Prof. Martin’s honors criminal psych class. Not too many college kids around here with children. Stiles had assumed, like an idiot, that that was true for Derek, too. Or, more like, he hadn’t ever thought to wonder about it. He probably should have. At twenty-six, Derek is older than everyone else in the class except the professor. It’s totally plausible for a twenty-six-year-old to have a kid.

What seems less plausible is that that twenty-six-year-old with a kid would be Derek Hale. He just doesn’t look like Stiles’ idea of a dad. He came into class the first day in a leather jacket and tight jeans with this don’t-talk-to-me smolder, and Stiles spent most of that session pretending to look over the syllabus with the rest of the class while actually wondering what Derek looked like naked. He feels kind of skeevy about it now, if Derek is somebody’s dad.

It seems more and more likely that he is. The kid is a dark-haired little boy, not very talkative, and not five minutes after they arrived, he’d already bitten Prof. Martin’s daughter on the arm and been banished to time-out. That was about when Stiles felt he had to accept that yep, that was probably Derek’s kid.

Now Jamie and Derek are sitting together on the edge of the pool, dipping their feet in the water. Jamie is sniffling, but as Stiles watches, Derek pulls a kleenex out of the pocket of his leather jacket and carefully—tenderly, even—wipes at the kid’s face with it. Derek’s saying something to him, and he’s got this achingly gentle smile on his face that Stiles has never seen before, and then he’s pulling a quarter out of his pocket. At the flash of silver the kid stops crying, looking tentatively interested. Derek winks at him and pretends to put the coin back in his pocket, then reaches up and plucks it from behind his ear. Jamie stares at it, and then at Derek, dumbfounded. Derek does it a second time, faster, tickling the kid’s ear as he “finds” the coin, and Jamie giggles. It’s basically illegal levels of adorable.

Yeah, that confirms it. It’s definitely more than a simple lust-crush thing at this point, and Stiles is fucked.

Stiles looks over at Boyd. He’s busy on his phone, typing out a meticulous, grammatically correct reply to a wall of emojis from Erica. “So…” Stiles prompts. “Fatherhood?”

“I think you’re closer to needing adult supervision yourself than providing it to others,” Boyd decides, hitting send on his text. “You can be the fun uncle, at most.”

“Hmm,” Stiles says, and morosely eats a curly fry.

*

Stiles is over at the cooler on the patio, digging around through the ice to see if there’s any beer left, when someone clears their throat behind him. He waffles and snags a Sprite and turns around to see Derek hovering there, leaning an elbow on the railing.  

Stiles pops the tab open on his can and tries for a casual bro nod. “Hey. ‘Sup.”

“I like your shirt,” Derek says, biting his lip. “I am Groot.”

Stiles smiles and runs a hand down his chest, over the baby Groot on his shirt. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna buy any more graphic tees, but then I saw it and I was powerless to resist.”

“Have you seen the sequel yet?”

Stiles throws his head back and groans. “No, and it’s killing me. I can’t wait. I’ve watched the trailer like ten times. I’ve been forcing myself to stay in my dorm and study, though. No movies for me. I mean, the way everyone was talking, I thought for sure Professor Martin’s final was going to torpedo my GPA. I’m actually feeling pretty good about it, though. I think I probably got, like, a low A. You?”

“Same. I feel sorry for anybody who didn’t keep up with the readings, though. That would torpedo their grade.”

Stiles snorts. He knows exactly who didn’t do the readings, because most of them are huddled together in a glum little group at the picnic table at the edge of the yard. “Definitely. There was so much on the final that was never even mentioned in class.”

Derek looks at him, lingering in a way that makes Stiles’ skin feel too hot. “I guess now that that’s over with, you can finally see the movie.”

“Yeah.” Stiles laughs, nervous without quite knowing why. Maybe it’s just that when Derek looks at him, it always makes him kind of nervous. “Guess so.”

Derek picks at the peeling label on his lemonade bottle, asks, “Do you maybe want to go see it with me?”

Oh.

On the one hand, YES, hell yes, Stiles wants that, and the fact that Derek wants that makes him feel like breaking out dancing right here, right now, but—maybe Stiles feels slightly less like he should want it now than he did, oh, say, this morning.

In the distance, he can hear Jamie shriek-laughing down on the lawn as Heather tickle-attacks him. Dating Derek—seriously dating, because Stiles wouldn’t be down for casual, not in this case—would mean being in that kid’s life, maybe even eventually being that kid’s step-parent. And yeah, Jamie is cute. So is seeing how good Derek is with kids. But… Stiles’ gut reaction is “Yikes.”

Stiles agrees with Boyd on this one: Stiles should be the fun uncle at most. Stiles as a dad, responsible for the well-being of a small child? Yikes. Double yikes. Infinite yikes.

Derek is still staring at him, his smile fading to something more closed-off, more nervous, the longer Stiles doesn’t say anything. By the time Stiles says, “No, I—I’m sorry. I wish I could, but I can’t,” Derek doesn’t even look that surprised, more… resigned. Sad.

“Okay, well…” he says. “Thanks for considering it.” He nods, once, without quite looking at Stiles. Then he sets his lemonade down on the railing and walks away.

*

Stiles doesn’t really feel much like partying after that. There’s nothing like rejecting your crush—after a whole semester of trying to get them to ask you out, no less!—to ruin the mood. And anyway, he’s already eaten and socialized and done his time sitting around in the sunshine. He’s probably going to have sunburn all over his face and neck tomorrow to go along with his Derek-asked-me-out-and-I-said-no moping. He can be both emotionally and physically miserable at the same time. Great.

When he opens Prof. Martin’s front door, heading out to his Jeep parked up on the road, there’s a man jogging up the porch steps. He slows when he sees Stiles, shooting him a friendly enough smile.

“Everyone’s out back,” Stiles says. The guy looks a little older, like Derek’s age, maybe, and he has a tattoo on his arm, two thick dark lines. He definitely wasn’t in their class this semester. “Are you a friend of Professor Martin’s?”

“No, actually, I don’t know her. I’m Scott. I’m a friend of Derek’s. I’m just here to pick up my son for his dentist appointment.”

Stiles isn’t sure what his heart just did in response to that, but it’s probably nothing good. “Your son as in, the little boy who likes to bite people?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a phase he’s been going through,” Scott says apologetically, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “We’re working on it. Hope he wasn’t too much of a problem today. Derek asked Professor Martin if he could come, and she said it would be fine, so…”

“Yeah, it’s been good,” Stiles manages to say through his inner mantra of Stiles, you idiot.  

“Awesome. When Jamie heard Derek was going to a party, he just got so excited, you know? Kira—my wife—she tried to tell him it was a grown-up party, but he was really insistent. He’s kind of obsessed with Derek right now. Everything Derek does, Jamie wants to do.” Scott laughs a little. “You should’ve seen how excited he was when Kira hinted he might get a jacket just like Derek’s for his birthday.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says faintly, because that mental image is almost too cute to handle. Also… apparently he isn’t leaving yet after all.

*

Stiles lingers as unobtrusively as possible on the back patio until Scott has collected Jamie from Derek, and then he heads over. For once, he’s able to sneak up on Derek, even though this time he’s not even trying. Derek’s clearly lost in his own head, standing alone over by the pool and staring down into the still water.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles says, drifting to a stop a few feet away.

Derek jumps a little, then sees who it is and looks even more startled.

Stiles snorts. “Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Derek says, unconvincingly.

“Right, well. I just… I was just wondering if you still wanted to see that movie.”

Derek eyes him, wary and kind of puzzled. “Thirty minutes ago you said—”

“I know what I said. What I said was stupid.”

Derek’s expression doesn’t change, except to look incrementally more confused.

Stiles sighs. He’s just going to have to say it. “Thirty minutes ago I thought you were Jamie’s dad, okay? Now I know better.”

Derek uncrosses his arms. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I figured… The date was probably going to go pretty well, and then there’d be another one and another.”

“That’s confident of you,” Derek says, cautiously pleased.

“Well,” Stiles shrugs, “I think I’ve spent enough time with you by now to know we’d be pretty great together, and honestly? I’m crazy about you. Any relationship with you, I would work like hell to make it work.”

Derek looks a little stunned.

Stiles forges on, hoping he’s not creeping Derek out. “So yeah, I figured if I said yes, it wouldn’t be just one date. And I figured I shouldn’t just jump into that without being prepared for what it might mean. Long-term.”

Derek steps in a little closer, and he’s just staring at Stiles and not saying anything and it’s wreaking havoc on Stiles’ nerves.

So, of course, he keeps talking, and talking. “Before you get creeped out, trust me, I know you’re just asking me out, not proposing marriage or whatever, but listen, I’m not going to jump into something with you if I’m not ready for the possibility of it getting serious one day. When you showed up with Jamie, I thought things getting serious between us might include your kid, and… Honestly, I’m not sure I want kids, and that’s not even getting into whether it’d be a good idea to give me a child. I feel like that could actually be a very terrifying idea, both for me and for him.”

“Stiles—”

“I mean, I’m happy enough seeing other people’s kids once in a while and then sending them home to their parents, you know? So I guess what I’m trying to say is, finding out you don’t have kids was basically the best news of my life because now I can say yes, like, the most enthusiastic of yeses—”

Derek kisses him. Stiles agreeably stops trying to talk, letting his eyes fall shut and his hands drift down to twist in Derek’s shirt. Who needs talking, anyway, when he has Derek gently coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. That’s the kind of communication style Stiles can really get behind.

After the third wolf-whistle from over by the picnic table, they reluctantly break apart. Derek looks satisfyingly dazed. Stiles feels like he probably does, too, because wow.

“I guess that was a yes to my yes?”

“That was a ‘Stiles, shut up before you run out of oxygen.’” Derek smiles. “And it was a yes.”

Awesome.

(end)

anonymous asked:

ah okay can u do one where tyler is the reader's upstairs neighbor and he plays the piano every night and it puts the reader to sleep, but then one night he stops and the reader can't sleep so she goes up and knocks on his door??

TYLER JOSEPH IMAGINE

As soon as you sit down to eat, it starts.  But you planned it that way, so you smile to yourself.  You feel your entire body relax, as you inhale deeply, picking up your fork once your shoulders had fallen.  Your foot starts tapping as you try to follow the same rhythm as the keys playing above.

It’s a beautiful piece tonight. Yesterday was much faster and upbeat, but tonight it’s slow and almost sort of sad. You try to hum along.

You moved in about three months ago, your last place was just too far from your school, and it’s been incredible. You love it.   It’s a good size, rent is cheap, and there’s also your upstairs neighbor who, every night at 7:30, without falter or fail, plays the piano beautifully for hours until you’re in bed, the rhythmic melody helping you fall asleep.

You never really spent a lot of time thinking about who was playing upstairs.  Probably some old man or lady, you didn’t see how anyone below the age of 30 would have enough time to play a piano for hours on end.

That night, much like many others, you finished your dinner and fell asleep to the sound of your neighbor and their piano.

You can’t sleep, you’ve been tossing and turning since your head hit the pillow.  This was the fourth night the piano hadn’t been played.

You’d just gotten so accustomed to listening to the notes every evening, you didn’t realize how much you had grown to depend on it until now. You knew you were going to wake up exhausted and grouchy. This is all your neighbor’s fault.

It’s 7:34 PM on a Thursday night and you’ve found yourself standing in front of your upstairs neighbor’s door. You honestly didn’t know what you were going to say, but you were feeling reckless and impulsive after running on hardly any sleep this week.  Frankly, at this point, you didn’t really care. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Before you knew it, you’re knocking on the door, eyes looking to the crack in the bottom of the door where you can see a small peak of a shadow.

“Who is it?” The person asks, his voice is muffled but it’s definitely a guy.

“Uh-your downstairs neighbor?” you try to say but it comes out as a question, this isn’t weird, right? Neighbors knock on their neighbors doors asking them to keep playing their piano, right? Right.

“Anne? Are you sick-Oh.” And what.

He’s not old, is the thing. The first thing you see is feet covered in speckled, gray socks, followed by black jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and a hand holding a bitten slice of pizza with a bandage. Uhh—

“You’re not Anne.” The boy says, his voice light, yet raspy.

“Anne-um. Moved. Sorry, am I in the right place? 34 B?” you ask because this pretty brown eyed, soft haired, boy cannot possibly be the anonymous piano player.

“Yeah…Can I help you?…” He asks, his unoccupied hand coming to rest on the open door and holy shit you can see a glimpse of a grand piano right behind him in his living room. What the hell?

“Piano?” you stupidly say, like that makes any sense. The boy turns around to look at his instrument and looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raising, expecting an answer. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You stopped playing— I used to hear you? Downstairs?” you say and this is why you need to figure out what the hell you’re doing before going and actually doing it.

“Oh my piano.. yeah, I’m kinda taking a break from playing, sorry if it’s annoying or whatever, but I pay extra for this place to let me to play—"

“No, no! I love it!” you say, almost desperately, “I just-“ you stop to bite your lip and think for a second, “this is weird, but—“ you stop before disclosing the fact that the man’s music helps you sleep. “I actually miss it,” you say instead.

“Oh!” he says, almost surprised, “my hand though… see?” The boy huffs out a laugh as he raises his right bandaged hand that’s holding the pizza.

“Is that from playing too much?” you ask.

“The cost of playing an instrument, you know? I’m Tyler.” He extends his good hand for a shake and you can’t believe this. The mysterious piano player is a young, hot dude. What?

“I’m Y/N!” you reply, shaking his hand.  You can’t help but notice how well your hands fit together so nicely.

“Y/N,” He starts, biting off a piece of pizza and continuing with his mouth full, “Do you want a slice of pizza?”

And, come on. It’s free pizza, You’re not going to say no.

You hit it off after that night. You kept having excuses to go back to see Tyler, the first time you brought Tyler a batch of your home made cookies, “a repayment for the pizza,” you had said and Tyler grinned and pulled you inside, grabbing two cups and filling them up with milk.

You learned more about Tyler every time you hung out, too. You found out Tyler is hilarious, he’s also sarcastic, he’s only been playing the piano since he was nineteen and has a band with his friend. That one you couldn’t believe at first, the way Tyler had said it so casually was surprising.  

The next time you’re knocking, there seems to be a lot of commotion going on in Tyler’s apartment.  But he answers, nonetheless.

“Y/N!” he greets with a smile.  

“Hey,” you say, apprehensively.  You hear the voices of at least two or three other people in the apartment.  

“I just thought I’d say hi— didn’t know you had people over-“

“No, no, no! Come in! Meet my friends!” he says, opening the way for you to walk inside.  

You’re uncomfortable.

The thing is; you don’t do this kinda thing very often. Your only friend is a girl from school, but even then, you only hang out at school.

When you entered Tyler’s apartment, you see three other guys standing around.  

“Y/N, this is Mark,” he points to a sandy-haired boy with a goofy grin, “Michael,” there’s a buff man holding a beer, “and Josh,” the yellow hair and bright smile gave away his identity as the other half to Tyler’s band.

You smile nervously and wave, feeling awkward just standing around. But soon after introductions, they carry on with whatever video game they were playing.  

“Come on in, Y/N. Don’t be shy!” Tyler says softly. He goes and sits on the soft, patting on the spot next to him. “Come sit, there’s enough space!”

There isn’t space enough. Well, not really at least. The sofa is more of a love-seat, and you end up pressed right against Tyler. He doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and when he casually  throws his arm around your waist after a few minutes, you start to relax.

It ends up being a really good night. You try a few rounds of Mario-Cart but stop, because you end up being so horrible. You don’t mind though.  You’re perfectly content with just watching the other guys play while you’re cuddled close to Tyler. You can’t really remember the last time you’ve had so much fun. They’re all constantly making jokes and telling stories and laughing, and you feel so carefree, almost like you’re floating.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, cause when you open your eyes, it’s to Tyler slowly caressing your cheek. “Wakey, wakey,” he says softly with a chuckle.

You slowly blink and then move to sit up straight. “Oh,” you say, slightly dazed. “Did I fall asleep?”

Tyler nods. “Yeah, about an hour ago. The guys just left though, so I figured it was about time I woke you up. I’m sorry though.. You looked really peaceful, sleeping.”

You look at how your legs are strangling Tyler’s and notice how you’re perfectly curled into his side. You blush, but are too sleepy to be embarrassed about it. “’m sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I’ll- uh..” you yawn. “I’ll go home then.”

Tyler smiles. “I didn’t mind. It was quite comfy, actually.  Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you out.”

You make your way to the front door. When Tyler opens the door, you turn around to thank him.

“Thank you for letting me hang out. And like, letting me sleep on you, I guess. I had a really good night,” you say, still slightly blushing.

Tyler either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about embarrassment. “No problem. I had a really good night too.” He bites his lip and then raises his hand to touch yours. It’s a light brush, but you feel sparks of electricity spike through you.

You’re about to start nodding, when Tyler leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “See you soon?”

You’re baffled, but somehow you manages to mutter out a “yes” before walking away.

Later, when you’re alone in your own bed, you replay the kiss in your head so many times you start getting dizzy. And yes, you think, you could totally get used to this.

The next day, Tyler’s the one knocking on your door.  You’re surprised, but even more so when he asks you out for coffee with him.  

After ten minutes of scrambling around looking for shoes and your wallet, you’re out the door, heading down the street.  There’s a cozy cafe on the corner and Tyler holds the door for you.  You let out a sigh of relief after getting shelter from the cold.

You sit in a small booth near the front window and cradle your cup of hot chocolate between your fingers as you watch people walk by.

Tyler makes sure to keep the conversation going, and there’s never really a dull moment.

You’re laughing loudly when Tyler reaches out at your face. You freeze in your seat as you feel his thumb sweep softly over your lip.

Tyler smiles and pulls his hand back. “You had a little chocolate-moustache, sorry.”

You smile back, but look down, blushing hard.

Tyler takes a breath. “Okay, look at me for a second please.”

You raise your head and carefully stare at Tyler, trying not to get lost in his breathtaking brown eyes.

“I like you,” Tyler then says.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your hands freeze where they’re laying near Tyler’s. “You…” you mumble, but it sounds more like a question.

Tyler’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead. “Like you, yes.” He says, nodding in affirmation, eyes widened with anticipation.

Tyler smiles again, “Man, I thought I was being obvious. I like you, and I’m not afraid to admit that to anyone.” He laughed softly. “I’m sorry for springing this on you like this, because I have no idea how you even feel about me, but-“

You interrupt him, “Seriously?” The surprise is clear in your eyes. “I have a huge crush, I mean the size of Everest on you, Tyler.”

For the first time that day, Tyler seems taken back a bit. “Well, I mean- I guess I didn’t want to assume anything?”

You laugh, “Can I tell you something?” you ask, fixing your eyes back on Tyler.

He nods carefully.

“Your piano playing helps me sleep,” you sigh, “I used to curl up in bed and listen every night, it soothed me.  When you stopped, I couldn’t fall asleep, I just tossed and turned.  That’s why I came up that night— to see why you stopped.”

Tyler just stared at you with a fond look on his face. “It put you to sleep?” He says smiling.

You’re suddenly hit by a wave of shyness, “Yeah…” you mumble, it sounded stupid.  

“Y/N?” Tyler says softly, and you look up at him again. “Can I kiss you?” he continues, voice barely more than a whisper.

Your heart stops for a second, before you slowly nod. “Honestly? I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t.”

Tyler leans forward and softly presses your lips together. He tastes like mocha and every wonderful thing in the world, and you think that this is probably the best first kiss someone could ever have.

Later that night you’re curled up into Tyler’s side, listening to the rise and fall of his chest.  You sigh in frustration, finding that you, once again, cannot sleep.

“I really wish your hand wasn’t hurt— then you could play for me,” you pout, poking your lip out and looking up at him.

He chuckles, giving you a small squeeze before disclosing, “You know I can sing, right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, racking your brain for the conversation where he told you that… But you can’t recall.  You would’ve remembered.  You would’ve made him demonstrate.

“You never told me that—“

“Would you like me to sing to you?  Then maybe you could fall asleep?”

You nod into his chest, burying your face into the fabric of his shirt before saying, “Yes, please.”

Tyler clears his throat lightly before starting to sing— and it’s beautiful.  At first, your chest fills up with so much admiration for Tyler that sleep is the last thing on your mind.  But he continues and his soft tune mixed with the feeling of his hand running up and down your back softly, has you calming down.  Your eyes soon grow heavy and after only a couple of verses, you’ve drifted off into a deep, sleep.  

Seth Rollins Sex Headcannons

I love Seth so much… What are the odds that I’m in my Seth Rollins tshirt too! It’s fate guys. Good God look at that gif. UGH HE DOES THINGS TO ME!!!

@ii-love-roman-reigns and @wweimaginesandoneshots

Originally posted by msgem

- This guy has stamina. Like he is the myth who can have like 3+ orgasms one after another. So you’re in for a very long sex session.

- He will actually fuck you anywhere though. He’s up for anywhere at anytime. You name it and he has you with your pants down and near orgasm in like 3.2 seconds. 

- He can tell that you love his beard, like you don’t even have to tell him. He just knows when he moves and you shiver while biting your lip. From then on, he makes a mental note to always brush his beard across your thighs. 

- Is very rough but he can be gentle too. Say the words and he will have you on your back as he kisses every part of your body and treats you like a queen. Or he will have you against a wall with you on your knees. 

- If you look up the dictionary definition of tease, it says ‘Seth Rollins’ because he is the ultimate tease. I can bet that he will probably have you begging, even if you’re like me and you don’t beg for anyone. He. Will. Find. A. Way.

- There will be many occasions where you wake up with his head in between your thighs. 

- The guy probably has rope, handcuffs, vibrators… A fuckton of stuff to make it better for you. 

- He’s had a lot of one night stands, so I think his brain will tell him out of instinct to not leave any lovebites. But he will love it when you scratch his back, or his arms. 

- I think he’d have a kitten kink. But not that much of a daddy kink tbh. 

Imagine Chris and the Avengers cast talking about you on Jimmy Kimmel.

You settled in your hotel room bed and turned on the television just in time to catch your husband, Chris Evans, and fellow cast members; Chris Hemsworth, Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner live on Jimmy Kimmel. You were meant to be at the interview with them but your commitment with your new movie sent you to London instead, and so there you were watching them answer the questions you were suppose to as well about the movie you all had acted in six months ago.

The interview started and the cast took their seats. You smiled at how handsome Chris looked in the outfit you had told him to take with him; everyone else looked great too. Seeing them made you miss their company and you wished you had been able to join them on the couch.

“It is so great to have you guys here tonight,” Jimmy addressed them with a wide grin. “The movie isn’t even out yet and everyone’s already excited to see part two.” The audience cheered their agreements. “Thank you all for coming out. I know all of you are very busy which is why we’re missing a few cast members tonight.”

The cast nodded in acknowledgement of your absence as well as a few others.

“Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, as well as your wife, Y/N,” Jimmy said to Chris and Chris nodded again, this time with a cute pout. “I heard she’s currently in London filming her next movie.”

“Yeah,” Chris chuckled. “She actually left for London like- a week after we wrapped up Infinity War. I headed home to relax and she went on to her next job, it definitely says a lot about our level of demand in the industry.” He joked and you chuckled softly. “No, I’m extremely proud of her. She’s up for an Oscar, did you guys know that?”

“How can we not? You talk about it all day every day,” Robert rolled his eyes as he pretended to be annoyed with Chris. “Even Y/N doesn’t talk about it as much as you do.” The room laughed. “No, seriously though- he talks about it all the time. Doesn’t he, guys?” He asked the cast for confirmation.

“All the time,” Scarlett and Jeremy nodded.

“Even Y/N tells him to shut up about it,” Mark chuckled.

“You’d think he was the one getting nominated,” Chris H added.

“He’s a proud husband,” Jimmy defended Chris.

“Yeah,” Chris laughed, “just leave me be.”

“He’s a lovesick puppy, that’s what he is.” Robert teased, glancing back at Chris. “Ever since the second he laid eyes on Y/N, he’s been head over heels for her.” The cast nodded and Chris blushed deeply, dropping his head. “You should have seen him the first time she walked on to the set, his eyes popped out of his skull and he became a huge blubbering mess.”

You giggled to yourself, remembering the day Robert was talking about. You’d been friends with Robert for quite a while now, having met on the set of ‘Sherlock Holmes’ in 2009. He was the one who took you around on your first day at the Marvel Studios and introduced you to everyone, including your husband. Chris was a huge mess the first time he met you, mainly because he was already a fan of your work and you were drop dead gorgeous in a black lace dress; he was a bit of a sucker when it came to lace.

“Yeah, okay,” Chris chuckled, “I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess when I met Y/N.”

“A bit?” Chris H scoffed then chuckled. “We were all embarrassed for you, dude. You’re lucky she’s ridiculously nice and ignored your rambling otherwise you wouldn’t be here with that ring on your finger. You lucked out with her, my man.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” Chris chuckled. “She reminds me everyday.”

He was joking- while you did remind him occasionally, mostly as a joke, sometimes when you were fighting- he didn’t need a reminder when it came to you. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you even before the first date.

The two of you clicked pretty much immediately and every day on set became like a scene out of a romantic comedy. It got to a point where Joss had to keep you two apart because you and Chris couldn’t be in the same room without flirting and/or ending up in a fit of giggles.

Your relationship with him progressed with MCU film franchise. You met and started dating on the set of ‘The Avengers’, by 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, you’d moved in with him, he’d proposed during 'The Avengers: Age of Ultron’, and by the time 'Captain America: Civil War’ came around you’d been happily married for almost a year. The end of 'Infinity War: Part 1’ called for your first pregnancy- which the two of you were planning on keeping a secret until the three month mark. And by the end of 'Infinity War: Part 2’, your little miracle would have been born and introduced to the world.

“I know we’re here to talk about the movie but can we just discuss your personal life for a moment?” Jimmy asked Chris. “You and Y/N have been married for a while now, do you think we’re going to see little Captain Americas and little Agent 25s running around anytime soon?”

You pressed your lips together when you saw Chris’ reaction. He looked like he was definitely dying to tell someone but the two of you made a promise and neither of your families knew yet so he kept his mouth shut and let Jeremy made the first comment.

“He’s enough of a child for the both of them,” Jeremy joked. “You should see them out and about, they paint the town red till the break of dawn. It’s no wonder they work together 'cause I don’t think anyone else can keep up with them.”

You laughed, suddenly glad you weren’t there to be teased.

“You two like to party?” Jimmy asked, chuckling.

“Why do you think they don’t have kids yet?” Mark chuckled.

“So they’re the ones you guys call to have fun, Chris and Y/N?”

“Definitely.” Robert nodded. “Those two are absolutely hectic.”

“Mm hm,” the entire cast nodded with all their thumbs pointed at Chris.

“Nooooo, we’re not going to do that!” Chris held his hands up in surrender. “We’re on TV, guys! Our parents are watching this. C'mon, if Y/N sees this she’s going to lose her mind. We promised her no embarrassing stories, so c'mon!”

“If she doesn’t want any embarrassing stories about her then she should settle down,” Robert said. “Hear that, kid?” He addressed you through the camera. “Become a mom and everything embarrassing you’ve ever done is wiped clean off the slate.”

You chuckled and picked up your phone, texting Chris the following words.

Just break the news, babe. We’ll call our families after the interview. I know we said we’d wait but it’s happening so we might as well tell people. I know you’ve been dying to tell them anyway so go ahead, you’ve got my full support. ❤️️

After sending the text, you turned your attention back onto the TV screen. Chris flinched and you knew it was from the buzzing in his pocket. He subtly pulled his attention away from Jimmy and the rest and took his phone out of his pocket to read the text. You saw his smile and you couldn’t help but smile back. He looked up at the screen and winked, knowing you were watching.

“Hey guys, um-” Chris cleared his throat and drew the attention onto himself. “I’ve got something to announce. Y/N and I have been keeping this a secret for a while now and um- she actually just decided it was time we break the news. She just texted me telling me to announce it right here on Jimmy Kimmel.”

“No my God,” Scarlett gasped and turned to Chris a knowing smile. “Is she-”

The rest of the cast turned to Chris with widened eyes and excited smiles, waiting for confirmation.

“Yup,” Chris nodded, smiling. “We’re expecting our first child.” He said and the whole room gasped.

“Wow!” Jimmy clapped. “That is- congratulations, you guys. Y/N,” he looked into the camera. “We wish you could be here with us. Congratulations, you two are going to make wonderful parents.” He said and you smiled.

“No way!” Robert’s jaw dropped, his excited grin visible as he turned from Chris to the camera. “I knew it,” he pointed to the camera and you chuckled. “I’m so proud of you, kid. I can’t wait to meet your little one.”

“Congratulations, man!” Jeremy slapped Chris on the back excitedly.

“Yeah, welcome to the dad clan. You’re one of us now,” Chris H shook his hand, grinning.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Mark told him, smiling. “You’re both going to make amazing parents.”

“Thanks guys,” Chris grinned. “I’m very excited as well.” He turned his attention back onto the camera, speaking directly to you. “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to experience parenthood with and- I’m ready as long as I’ve got you by my side, sweetheart. I love you and I can’t wait to see you.”

You smiled, feeling your eyes water as you picked up your phone and texted him your response.

I love you and I can’t wait to see you too.