Adventures In Babysitting: A Saga

Omg this is hilarious

the gimmick blogs are like tumblr’s rogue gallery. yes we’ve got some heroes, yes we’ve got some villains, but more importantly if you look over here you will see some freak who devotes all their time to counting the number of “t’s” in a post

spider merlin here’s to defeat the bad guys with spider+magic powers while having to keeps his identity a secret from his roommate and best friend arthur

also merlin’s canon event :)

after merlin lost arthur in one of his fight, he stopped being spider-man.

Tickling on Ice (Yuri on Ice)

Summary: After practicing his latest routine, Yuri finds himself out of breath for several different reasons.

A/N: HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY, @dokidoki-muffin!! Since you left your wish pretty open-ended, I decided to take inspiration from this fabulous art and write a fic for it! You did tell us we were free to speculate, after all! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

And yes I'm aware this title is incredibly lame but it made me laugh and I couldn't be bothered to come up with something better so lame it shall stay lol

Word Count: 1,145

~~~

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air.

The performance was over; he’d held his final pose the required amount of time. He was done, and that meant he could finally breathe. This routine was by far the hardest he’d ever performed to date. It was spectacular, but it took a lot out of him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, the cold of the ice burning his skin. From across the rink, another figure glided over to join him.

For a moment Yuri forgot how out of breath he was. If anything, seeing Otabek Altin only took his breath away again. He could hardly believe he’d just done what he’d done – having his friend help him with his routine by first catching the pink jacket he discarded early on and then by ripping his glove off his hand with his teeth.

Yuri tried not to blush as he got to his feet.

“Well done,” Otabek congratulated, nodding his approval. “That was the smoothest practice yet.”

“I still have some things to work on,” Yuri replied, eyes darting to the fingerless gloves the taller man offered him. He took them and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Yes, but you have time for that.” Otabek scanned him briefly. “Not too cold?”

“Please,” the Russian scoffed, though he was pretty certain he was incapable of feeling anything other than an intense warmth when standing so close to his friend. Yes, just a friend. “If a little ice is enough to make me shiver then I’m clearly in the wrong profession.”

The Kazakhstani smirked. “Hmm. I have to admit, I’m impressed with how bold this routine is, even for you.”

“Bold? You think this is…” Yuri’s comeback trailed off when Otabek got right up into his personal space. He forgot what words even were for a moment. “…bold?”

“Yes.”

“Y-You…you don’t have to bite the glove off if you don’t want to—”

“I do.” Otabek leaned down to touch their foreheads together, a clear invitation, a clear question. “That blush looks good on you, by the way.”

“Wha?” Yuri yelped when his feet were suddenly not holding him up anymore, his skates sliding across the ice when Otabek swept his own beneath them. The blonde frantically reached up to grab him for stability, and the next thing he knew he was being suspended in the air, kept aloft only by the darker man’s hands on his hips and Yuri’s fists clenched in his black leather jacket. “What – what are you doing?!”

“I would like to kiss you, Yuri,” Otabek murmured. “Please tell me I can.”

Yuri shivered, eyes wide, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Suddenly, having the Kazakhstani bite his glove off his hand no longer seemed like the boldest move they’d made recently. His kiss was gentle but passionate, making Yuri see stars behind his eyes, and he didn’t protest in the slightest when he realized he was being pushed back down onto the ice, the cold against his bare back contrasting sharply with the warmth of the man above him.

Okay, so maybe he was more than just a friend. And maybe Yuri was completely fine with that.

Hands began to wander, Otabek’s fingers brushing gently over skin as he slipped under his shirt, and Yuri shivered again, inhaling sharply, tensing up.

Otabek broke their connection and met his eyes, a playful sparkle in them that made the blonde nervous. “Oh?”

“No,” Yuri said immediately, but it was useless. Fingernails scraped gently against his sides, making him squirm. “No, don’t do that!”

“Are you ticklish?”

“I’m – no! Nonono! I mean—” He tried again. “Please don’t, I’m…I’m really t-tihiheahahahahaha! Wahahahahait!”

Otabek chuckled, scribbling all over his lower torso, and Yuri squeaked and squirmed and tried to push him away, but it was all for naught. The older man was also much, much stronger, and the Russian felt a chill shoot through him from more than just the ice when he realized how stuck he was like this.

“Plehehease, I’m really tihihihihicklish! Dohohohohohon’t! Otahahahahahaha!”

In a sudden flurry of movement, Otabek pushed Yuri’s hands above his head, pinning one with his left arm and maneuvering the other into his left hand, freeing up his right to wiggle under the smaller man’s shirt and tickle freely. Yuri jerked beneath him, still stubbornly holding back his laughter despite how red he was getting from the effort.

The Kazakhstani carefully lifted his leg to half-straddle the blonde, pinning his hips in place, and that was when the dam finally broke.

“Plehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahaha nohohohohohohoooo! Otahahahahahaha!” Yuri giggled helplessly, blushing furiously under the other man’s kind, intense gaze. “Dohohohohon’t! Lehehehehet me up! Dohohohohon’t tickle – EEEK!! Nononono not thehehehere, not there!”

“No?” Otabek teased, dragging his fingers up and down the grooves of his ribcage like he was playing a xylophone. “Not your ribs?”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Yuri pleaded as he tossed his head back and burst into shrieking laughter, trying desperately to move any part of his body, bring his arm down, anything. None of it did any good, though, and that only made it tickle worse. “NAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!! PLEASE, BEHEHEHEHEHEKA!!”

For a moment the darker man slowed to a stop, allowing Yuri to gasp for breath a second time that day, and their eyes met for a long, quiet, intimate moment.

“Beka?” Otabek murmured.

Yuri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to call him that; in his ticklish haze he hadn’t been thinking clearly and it just slipped out. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Say it again.”

“W-What?”

Otabek began tracing his ribs with his fingers. “Call me that again.”

“Eeep! Okahahay, okay! Beheheheheka!” Yuri squealed, giggles spilling out of him uncontrollably at the gentle touch.

“I like that,” the Kazakhstani said in a near whisper, leaning down to kiss him again, still tickling softly.

Yuri whined, still snickering at the light, teasing touches along his body. Between the playful tickling and the way Otabek was looming over him and pinning him down, the blonde was suddenly beginning to feel all kinds of different ways about the turn this skating practice had taken.

“All right,” Otabek said after another minute, slowing his teasing fingers to a stop and beginning to sit up, releasing Yuri’s arms as he did so. “You’re going to freeze if you keep lying here—”

“Wait,” Yuri protested breathlessly, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep him from moving away, tugging him back down on top of him. He swallowed nervously, blushing and averting his eyes as he muttered, “You can keep going.”

“Oh yeah?” Otabek chuckled again, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Yuri, one hand moving back down to scratch at his belly and sides. Yuri broke into another round of giggles, and the taller man crushed their lips together once more.

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air again before he knew it.

DAY 15

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15

Eddie looked around the school cafeteria, wondering how the hell he was supposed to believe his soulmate was here.

Hawkins didn’t exactly have a surplus of queer men, at least not any who would be willing to actually kiss Eddie on the mouth.

When he turned 18, two freckles appeared on his neck. Everyone he’d known that got their soul mark already had gotten much more obvious marks in places they could hide. But of course Eddie got something that didn’t make any fucking sense.

He’d known he was gay for years, and he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate because of that.

Fate must not be as homophobic as he thought.

He’d been so focused on scanning the cafeteria that he didn’t notice when someone sat down next to him. Someone different.

When he looked down to take a bite of his sandwich, he was shocked to find Steve Harrington sitting to his left.

“Uh.”

Smooth, Eddie.

“I need to talk to you.”

Eddie just stared at him, then gestured for him to continue.

“In private.”

Eddie gulped.

Steve seemed stressed. Maybe he just wanted to buy drugs.

Eddie didn’t usually deal during school hours, but for The King, he could probably make an exception.

“Listen, uh. I can’t sell during lunch, too many eyes. But meet up with me during the next class…”

“No! No. Not. It’s not that.”

Eddie was beyond confused.

Not only was Steve talking to him in front of other people, it wasn’t about buying drugs?

Maybe he was high. That had to be it.

“So…can we…”

Eddie shook himself out of the weird comatose situation he was mentally in and nodded.

Steve stood and nodded his head outside. Eddie immediately knew where he was going to want to talk.

There was a spot under the bleachers that had become known as the soulmate spot. Ironically, only two pairs of soulmates had ever managed to make it there. It was a make out spot, and occasionally, Eddie’s place of business. How it came to be known as the soulmate spot was beyond him.

Even knowing that’s where they were going didn’t deter Eddie from following Steve wordlessly out of the cafeteria. It’s not like Steve was going to murder him, and he had it on good authority he could probably take him in a fight if necessary.

They walked in silence to the bleachers, going behind them and finding the small cutout that allowed access to the soulmate spot. It was the worst kept secret at Hawkins High, but Eddie had never actually seen anyone else there when he needed it.

As they settled into the small area, Eddie couldn’t help noticing that Steve was wearing a jacket. It was an unusually warm February day, so warm in fact, Eddie had gone without his usual winter leather jacket.

“I have a question.”

Eddie had never heard Steve speak so softly, and it was more than concerning.

“Okay?”

Steve was playing with his hands in his lap when Eddie glanced down and noticed it. The start of a scar on the back of his right hand. The same as Eddie’s.

Eddie had broken his arm in seven places when he was seven years old. Suffice to say seven was not his lucky number. He’d needed surgery to repair a part of his wrist and the scar ended up being nearly four inches long for reasons his parents hadn’t bothered to clarify with the surgeon.

Eddie looked at Steve’s neck.

Two freckles.

What the fuck.

“So. Don’t panic, okay? But I noticed that you have a scar on your right hand and my birthday was last week. So. I got a new scar in the same place.”

Eddie gawked. There was no other word for the way he was staring at Steve.

“I just wanted to compare them and see.”

“See what?”

“If we’re soulmates.”

Eddie laughed in disbelief. Steve flinched at how loud he was, but he couldn’t hold back if he tried.

“There is no possible fucking way I’m your soulmate.”

Eddie could see the two freckles on Steve’s neck that matched his own, but he was still in denial that Steve was anything other than straight and would possibly feel anything for Eddie beyond general tolerance.

Steve’s brows furrowed.

“Maybe someone else has a scar there. Did you check all the cheerleaders?”

Maybe that was harsh. Steve flinched like he’d thrown a physical punch, leaving Eddie feeling a bit guilty.

“Just. For my sake, could I check your arm? Please? If it doesn’t match, I’ll leave you alone.”

“And if it does?”

“Then I’ll ask you what mark has been hiding on you for a year.”

Eddie slowly started rolling the sleeve of his plaid button down, ignoring the way Steve was staring between his face and hands intently.

When he shoved his arm toward Steve for him to inspect, he closed his eyes.

Steve would be disgusted that he’s his soulmate. Steve wasn’t gay, probably hadn’t even thought that it was a possibility. Even if he were, there’s no way he’d be interested in Eddie.

He felt fingers tracing up the scar line, just ghosting over his skin. He shivered and looked up to see Steve staring in awe.

“Where’s yours?”

“Um. My neck. Freckles.”

“Wow. You get freckles and I get a whole scar. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Of all the things going on here, that’s what doesn’t seem fair?”

Eddie finally made eye contact with him, biting his lip when he realized Steve was already staring at him.

“I guess it’s also not fair that we’re stuck in Hawkins instead of, like, San Francisco or New York.”

“What.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. He was more lost than he’d ever been, and he had little to no hope of catching up.

“Those are the places where it’s a bit safer right?”

“Safer for what?”

“For us to be together.”

That’s it, Eddie was done. He was throwing in the towel.

“Together?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but squeezed Eddie’s hand where he was still holding it.

“If we’re soulmates, I’d assume that’s the next step?”

“Harrington, I hate to break this to you, but you’re not gay.”

“No I’m not.”

“Exactly! So, this whole conversation is…”

“I like both.”

“Both?”

“Yeah. Guys and girls. Both.”

“Huh.”

And then Eddie did the riskiest thing he’d ever done in his life.

He kissed Steve Harrington. Tongue and all.

And they sometimes say that soulmates have an instant connection, one so powerful you can’t question fate anymore. But Eddie had never really believed it; he’d had no reason to or any examples of it.

But now, with the way Steve was climbing into his lap, metaphorical sparks flying around them, he knew they had it.

And when Steve kissed his freckles before leaving, and when Eddie traced along the fake scar of his hand, they both knew this was the best thing they never could have expected.

SOOOO cute

saw this photo and was absolutely overcome until I had drawn them

If Merlin was honest, he didn’t planned to be arrested by the Met the day Arthur finally returned, but here he was…

Matt Shirley

This looks SOOOO cool

Commission for @the-pen-pot for their fic Hiraeth, thank you so much for commissioning me!

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