Sheepish grin

anonymous asked:

#3 from your list :))))

Thank you Anon! 

#3 I’m sorry! I thought that was your knee! 

Mulder walked towards their basement office. A sheepish grin on his face. He hoped that this would get him out of trouble.There had been a slight awkwardness between them. They had only been working together for a couple years now. He opened the door and saw Scully sitting in her seat, already reviewing a case file. 
“I…uhm, I brought some coffee for you to drink.” He said with a wince. 

Scully cocked her eyebrow and looked at him without any words. She took her cup of coffee without a word. She knew it was irrational, her anger, but she knew that if she didn’t appear angry then he would easily figure out how she felt. The two mixes of tensions made the small basement room stifling. 

Mulder kept pushing his glasses up his nose. His jaw kept opening and closing but nothing was coming out. He kept glancing at how rigidly Scully was sitting. Her eyes didn’t waver from her paper. Even when she sipped her coffee. Her hand knew where to go, without even looking. 

Scully could feel his eyes on her. She fought from rolling her eyes but finally said, “Will you just say whatever it is that you are trying to say?” She closed her case file and looked at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with an icy glare. 

“It…It was dark, and my flash light went out…shit…Scully! I am really, really sorry.” Mulder took off his glasses and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Mulder…you grabbed my boob.” Scully said with a frown. Yes, the room had been dark. She wouldn’t admit right now that she had wanted him to hold her breast in the moment because the way that it had happened was not how she wanted it to happen. 

“I’m sorry! I thought it was your knee!” Mulder replied. His cheeks were red and his hair were flying out at all angles as he kept running his fingers through his hair. 

Scully couldn’t help herself as her laughter cut through the tension. She laughed even harder as she saw the ludicrous look on Mulder’s face. 

“Next time you grab my boob, at least make it more pleasurable for me.” Scully quipped before she opened her case file to finish catching herself up. 

You can leave a penny but you can't take a penny.

I rushed from my car to the school bookstore. I was late for my final in history and had forgotten my scantron and backpack at home. I grabbed my wallet, handed the bookstore clerk my credit card with a ‘help me with this quick please’ sheepish grin. The clerk she said “no” and pointed to the minimum purchase sign next to the cash register.

I apologized for the oversight and reached in my pocket to grab loose change and pay for the scantron. As I counted out my change I only had 18 cents. No problem! They had a “take a penny” dish next to the register so I reached over and grabbed the remaining change and tried to hand it to her.

The lady again held her hand flat out and said “no” again. I asked why not and she said “you can leave a penny but you can’t take a penny”. I tried to explain that I didn’t have another way to pay for the scantron. She wouldn’t budge and physically moved the penny jar out of my reach like I was some sort of thief.

At the point it hit me that for whatever reason this cashier was getting off on making my life difficult and had no sympathy me.

Now I’m not the kind of guy that gets mad and starts yelling or crying, so I did the only thing I could think of. I smiled and said “of course, you know there were a few things I need to grab for next semester”. I grabbed an overpriced bag of m&ms, a soda and $400 worth of merchandise from every corner of the store. I again pulled out my card and she begrudgingly rang everything up.

When she was through I pulled out my scantron and handed her my remaining articles and said “I’d like to return these items please”.

She went ballistic. She started yelling and called campus security. I explained what had happened to the officer and he told her that she had to honor the return.

I then went to class feeling like a rock star and got a solid B on the test.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | source

Help - Peter Parker x Reader

Requested by Anon (Dialogue prompt) “I may need your help”

It’s so hard to find Tom Holland Gifs. (Not mine) 

“Hey (Y/n).” Peter’s voice echoed through the phone once you picked up.

“How are you?” He asked, trying to make it seem like it was just a normal conversation.

“Good thanks. How are you?” You asked, leaning against your bedroom wall.

“I’m good. Good. Well, actually listen. I was experimenting with something and I.. I may need your help.” He stopped babbling abruptly and you could almost ear his sheepish grin through the phone.

“Oh god. What have you done this time?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am very responsible- Ah!” You heard a dull thud and curses through the line.


“I’m fine! Just, please come help me.”

“It would be nice if you explained the situation.”

Peter sighed, “I’ll send you a photo. It will sound ridiculous if I explain it.”

“Alright.” You laughed, “I’ll be round soon.”

“Thank you, (Y/n).”

You hung up and were immediately greeted with a photo of Peter apparently stuck in the top corner of his room with his hands glued with webs. You had no idea how he’d managed to take the photo.

When you knocked on the door to Peter’s apartment, Aunt May greeted you.

“(Y/n)! Peter didn’t tell me you were coming around. Come in!” She held the door open for you. “Did he text you to come around?”

You nodded, “The power of modern communication.”

She laughed and led you to Peter’s room.

“Have fun studying.” She smiled, leaving you to knock on his door.

“Come in!’

You opened the door and were confused for a moment as to where he was. But then you saw him in the corner in line with the door, firmly stuck to the ceiling.

“You alright?” You asked, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah of course, it’s not like I’ve been stuck here for like an hour and I’ve lost feeling in my left leg.” He winced, “Not at all.”

You laughed, dragging his desk chair over to the corner so you could reach him more easily.

“And who’s fault is that?”

“I was just trying to strengthen the web formula. I did it.” He grinned while you pulled out a pocket knife, trying to cut through the string.

Peter chuckled then, “I tried that.”

“What should I do then?”

He glanced around the room, flushing slightly red.

“It should wear off after a while. Especially if you put some water on it. I was kinda hoping you could just.. uh.. keep me company until then?”

The 9th Time (which doesn’t count because Obi-Wan was trying to save Anakin in the first place). This is heavily referenced from here. I saw it and decided a Star Wars version needs to exist hence I drew this. Also, while we’re on the subject, Obi-Wan lets go of his lightsaber on purpose so he could grab Anakin instead. You know how Obi-Wan goes “This weapon is your life.” right? Well, Anakin’s more important to Obi-Wan… *sheepish grin*

Luke mumbling, ‘When do I get a mothers day?!’ with his chin in his hand as he lays on his stomach beside you, other hand resting against your magically growing bump and you stare blankly at him, his eyes just watching the spot where mini hemmo is growing. after you haven’t answered in too long he looks up at you, your brow furrowed as if you’re still trying to decide whether it was a serious question and finally you speak slowly, 'fathers day?’ and he stares back at you for a second, unblinking before he cracks a sheepish grin and says, 'oh. right.’ and it takes everything in you to stifle your laughter as he pouts up at you and mumbles, 'i must have sympathy pregnancy brain.’

The universe says the odds are stacked against them. Yet here they are. Marinette meets Adrien underneath a crumbling ceiling with a gas mask and flashlight that rolls out of her hands with surprise. He’s golden and sunshine incarnate when he picks up the tool and hands it back with a sheepish grin. He wears no mask and stares curiously at hers, but she knows. Those of the upper class don’t need things like these. They’re allowed simple packets made to help their lungs adjust to the rapidly changing atmosphere of a dying planet. He offers her one. A precious silver packet filled with a thick, viscous liquid Marinette has never seen in person. He nods in encouragement at her hesitation, the rest history.

He makes a point to save her a few of the packets every time they meet in the abandoned building. Adrien tells her this was the doing of the history junkies fascinated with tales of their ancestors finding entertainment in 2-D moving pictures across a screen. It never took off with the ever increasing panic from the numerous natural disasters.

The human race had been dealing with the aftershocks of two plagues that had lasted over 150 years. Paranoia keeping those from seeking help and contagion infecting more than could be saved. Genetic code evolving just when they thought they were getting close. The healthy were moved to the eastern hemisphere of the world for their own protection, the others kept back to help prevent further infection. Some came as families, many came as orphans.

The eruption of volcano 345-C just a year before had thrown the zone into panic, creating a permanent winter where little food could be grown. So the elites had taken it upon themselves to begin evacuation swiftly and efficiently. To leave behind a planet of devastation and ruin. Exploration units had been sent out years before bringing back promising results for a habitable planet within reach. So it was decided that they would leave.

Alas what a shame it had been that the sciences never gained the finances and belief they needed and now they were behind. The only thing would be large ships built to support large amounts of people for generations until the new ones could land at their new home. Marinette knew she would never see the new planet, but she dreamed and the moment she received her boarding pass for the last of the ships in 3 years time, she floated above them.

“I want to design,” she told Adrien one day, smile gentle and light. “I want to create art people can wear. I want people to remember that there was something,” her voice catches, “-anything before this.”

They’re both lying in the theatre staring up at a hologram map projector of the skies Adrien had snatched from the labs his father sponsored. It was no use going outside. Ash and volatiles clouding the outside, along with dust no longer kept down with vegetation.

“I thought you were going to help me invent light speed traveling,” Adrien answers back. A light punch to his shoulder and he laughs holding up a tiny reel of film Marinette had found for him. There’s a scene unfolding before his eyes in pictures, a large, clanky ship moving at the speed of light with blue dashes on the sides. He keeps it surrounded by plexiglass labeled “Star Wars”.

“I will,” she replies back earnestly with a wide smile.

“I’d like to be at a place with ocean,” Marinette whispers, hands fiddling with a chain around her neck.

“I think the freshwater lakes on Gilead 256 would be better,” Adrien replies. He taps a sphere where it opens up with information and whatever images they have. “Much less chance of unknown creatures of the deep.”

“But it’d be nice,” Marinette sighs, containing the smile behind it.

After two years of friendship Adrien’s last name is revealed. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly and watches Marinette slowly, gauging her reaction. He can’t say he’s surprised at her shock, nor is he offended with the slight wrinkle of her nose while she tried to comprehend the reason behind “-why you’re still here.”

“You could have left a long time ago,” Marinette says when they’re standing in the food rations line for her. Offer as he might, Marinette refuses his upper class perk of more food. “I mean, you wouldn’t have to breathe this air anymore, you wouldn’t have to worry about sust–well I suppose you don’t worry about that anyway…”

Adrien smiles through it all, putting off her questions and theories especially since he himself doesn’t know why his father chose to stay longer. The line is long and slow, but the two keep themselves occupied with the movies from the digital age Adrien somehow converted to hologram or life stories they make up for those around them. There are even days they plan out their lives together, shyly mentioning to each other about secret rendezvous in the public gardens, or sneaking in lab time for the light speed invention process. Ration Friday’s are slow, but Adrien looks forward to them the most.

In the upcoming months that they prepare for take off, Marinette sees little of Adrien. There is little to prepare, but Marientte keeps busy with exercise since she’s heard it helps with the journey. The air quality as per usual though, is not kind to bodies so it is nothing when she begins a slight cough. They meet the night before, a movie up on a screen that they’re not even watching because it has no sound. Adrien presses a charm into Marinette’s hands just before they depart, blush creeping up his neck.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips to her cheek. Marinette’s heart beats a thousand times per minute and she murmurs her goodbye finally taking a look at the piece of metal in her hand when he leaves. Her smile is brighter than the stars she can’t see as she cradles the little light speed ship all night.

Please bring only absolute necessities, your ship will have all else.

Upon the day of reckoning, Marinette buzzes with excitement fiddling with the chain around her throat as usual although with a new addition. She brings only a photograph of what she was told were her birth parents and a boarding pass to her dreams. She’s near the back of the lines because of orphan and 3 class status, but giddy all the same. Her cough is light today.

It’s only after she gets to the first gate that her excitement comes crashing down. Instead of the usual pass forward an attendant pulls her off to the side with an unsure expression. She’s escorted to a new line with very few people when the poking and prodding begins.

Adrien sits comfortably, if not just a bit antsy, on the velvet of a couch. The area is filled with hustle and bustle now that take off has ended. He’s unsure of how he feels to have officially left the Earth forever or how this ship will be the last to leave. He sees engineers and scientists he’s seen work of the models for years chat comfortably with one another. They occupy one another’s attention and Adrien spots his chance for escape.

It’s not a long walk with various elevators and the like to take before he’s in commons area 45 where Marinette had promised to meet him. Big crowds of course mean lots of time so Adrien waits patiently as the crowds pass by waiting for check in.

Something feels wrong in the third hour as the line begins to die down. Something feels wrong in the fourth hour when it ends completely and Adrien flags down the nearest attendant he can find. His own identification card screams of wealth and he’s not denied conversation.

“Excuse me, but I’m looking for a friend, perhaps I missed her,” he asks.

“Yes sir, do you have a name or identification code, preferably the latter,” the attendant answers promptly.

“Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he replies, watching as the letters a typed in across the tablet. He only gets a glance at the file when the attendant blackens the screen quickly.

“I’m sorry sir, this passenger has not boarded.”

It’s a little frightening that Marinette is calm all throughout the process. It’s seems strains of the second plague had reached the community long before anyone had noticed. There are only two volunteer doctors and nurses that decided to stay with those who could not board and she is grateful. They are of the older sort with white hairs and deep set wrinkles, holding the kindness of decades while they try to comfort those left behind. Those whom will never leave. Marinette doesn’t feel sick, just like the rest of the patients, but of course these things take time. Urine test, blood test, spinal cord tap, every sort of bodily fluid they could find was checked once, then twice, then a third. All positive.

It’s a hard thing, accepting your fate as such. Especially for the Marinette who chased her own destiny. Especially for the Marinette who just wanted an ocean and to design clothes. There are no tears for the lonely though, and she passes the time sketching the curtains separating her from a roommate. Said patient is moved to another room in the later hour for delirium, perhaps caused by the spike in depression from knowing her last hours are to be spent on an Earth that’s tried to kill them the past hundred years.

It’s not like they don’t know they’ll expire long before the sickness catches up. The big plants that ran the electricity, air and water filtration are long since turned off, the workers boarded on a ship to new life. The air is beginning to become heavy, and it makes her sleepy.

The sound of static captures her attention when she looks at the communicator on a nurse’s cart. They both listen quietly until Marinette can hear her name faintly and the nurse presses the communication device in her hands and leaves the room.

“Marinette? Marinette can you hear me?”

She can’t breathe in that moment when she hears Adrien’s voice. It’s not entirely clear, but it’s unmistakeable.

“Yes, yes Adrien I can hear you!” Marinette shouts when she finally comes to her senses, trying to control her shaky breaths.

“Hey, there you are,” he says, “I was just checking to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine,” she exhales, clutching at the sheets.

“You know they’re coming back right?” He continues, “They’re gonna send a smaller ship back. It’s an easy fix I heard so they’re coming back.”

“Is that so?” There is no keeping the first tear from escaping.

“Yeah, we’re pretty far out, but um, um they’ll send a ship back, I’ll be on it,” Adrien laughs a bit awkwardly. “I’ll be back for you.” Her tears don’t stop then and her fingers clutch the little device hard as she bites into her knuckle to keep quiet.

“It’ll probably take a while, so you need all the rest you can get, okay?” Adrien continues, “Marinette?”

“Yeah-I know, the doctor, he says I’ll be better in no time,” she bites out, unable to control the little sob, “Someone’s gotta help you with that light speed project right?”


“What planet are yo-what planet will we go to?” She asks when silence fills the room.

“One with an ocean,” he says quietly this time, “I heard its got bright waters and warm beaches, you can see the stars at night.”

“I’m-I’m excited,” Marinette whispers. There are doctors whispering outside her room, sad voices seeming to try to comfort each other. There’s words Marinette wants to ignore when she hears it, something about distance and signal.

“Hey Adrien, I really like the charm,” Marinette breathes out, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before.”

“It’s okay, I knew,” he answers, “Listen Marinette you need your rest, you have to-you’re going to get better.”

“I know.”

“They’re readying the ship,” she can hear his own sob now, held in for too long, “I’m getting on it soon so I’ll talk in a bit alright? Marine–”

She waits for a while.

“Adrien, I think I’ll sleep now okay?” She whispers, their moment of empty promise halting, “Adrien I forgot, you know I forgot to say something else?”

The silence is overwhelming and she wants her lost hope back.

“I love you, that’s okay right?”

Catching up

Summary: The reader decided to help Bucky to catch up on everything he missed out on in the past 70 years by introducing him to Star Wars

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,570

Warnings: None, it’s just fluff

A/N: This was so much fun to write and I really hope ou like it! Also I can totally imagine Bucky doing the Solo Smirk ;)

Tagging: @felteppsters @buckynatsaha @anthonysfark @bovaria

“Do you really want to do that again?” Bucky asked you as he followed you through the shared home of the avengers. Everyone else was on their current mission, leaving the building to you and Bucky. 

“Of course! It’s not everyday that we have all rooms for us,” you replied with a sheepish grin on your lips and headed straight to Steve’s room. It all had started a few weeks ago when Bucky had caught you as you were rummaging through Tony’s clothes. He’d asked you what you were doing and you’d only blushed and told him that you were really curious and had planned to use their absence as the perfect chance to snoop around a little bit. Bucky was hesitant at first but had joined you eventually. 

Since then you’d done it not only with Tony’s room, but with several others too. Today it was going to be the room of the one and only Captain America. To be completely honest, you’d been looking forward to do this since you’d heard about the new mission.

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→ The X-Files college au (x)

In his beat up car, Mulder has six eight tracks dedicated to Elvis alone. Scully is reminded of how he is never quite in the present; always either in the past, bobbing his head to Elvis with a sheepish grin and banging on about Roswell, New Mexico 1947 or else is so far ahead of everyone even she has trouble keeping up. 

By the end of their first year, she can’t remember how many weekends they spent out of town. He buys her strange trinkets (he has a particular penchant for gifting her keychains from every state) and takes her to even more peculiar places. In an outer-space themed bar he orders them double drinks with something neon green dripping inside that looks suspiciously like alien goop. They spend a drunken night in a motel room avoiding each other’s lips.

He takes her to a museum of oddities, where there are precisely three Fiji mermaid look-alikes, nine pieces of bug wings claiming to be scales of prehistoric beasts still roaming deserted swamps, and twenty-six identical moulds of clearly fake alien bodies. He grabs her hand as they stare into the glass cases of mystery creatures. Neither of them say anything about it.

They argue frequently, about what is real and what is not, about what he wants so badly to believe he’ll see anything and about what is under her nose but she refuses to acknowledge. But they keep driving, keep moving in a way that makes them both feel like they exist outside of time and space and there is nothing among them but a few bright lights above, the tapping of her nails on the dashboard, and both of them trying desperately not to fall in love.

Food Fights (Calum Smut)

Summary: Calum’s disastrous cooking results in a mess that can only be erased with a steamy shower session 

Warnings? Smuuut, blowjobs, shower sex

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist | Request

As you stare at the mess spread across Calum’s kitchen you can’t help but wonder two things; why did you assume he’d know how to cook, and what possessed him to make such a mess?

“I can explain…” He holds up his hands, a sheepish grin spread across his face. You snort as you notice the strands of raw egg scattered through his hair, “Please do.” Calum begins to rinse his hands in the sink before answering.

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How You Cuddle

Requested by Anon - could you do A visual preference with nat, wanda, bucky, steve, thor, clint, and tony on how they cuddle?


Tony liked having you on top of him whenever you cuddled just so he could see your gorgeous face at all times. He had easy access to your lips, neck and his hands could easily rest on your hips with no issue. It was rare when Tony had free time to cuddle as he always busied himself with random things, but on the rare accounts when he did have time, he made the most of it.


Thor had an issue staying still. He always had to be moving, whether it be tapping his feet to an invisible beat or even moving you into a different position with him every five minutes. You didn’t mind - you found it adorable how he always gave you a sheepish grin whenever he stirred you.


Clint liked to have you nestled into his chest, hugging him tightly. He liked the view he had of your flushed cheeks as you slept and the ability to easily kiss your forehead at any whim. He always ran his fingers through your hair, tugging you closer and closer to him.


Cuddling was Steve’s favorite thing in the entire world. He enjoyed knowing that you were safe in his arms, hence the fact he always had them wrapped tightly around you. It didn’t matter what position you were in - he had his arms wrapped around you securely. 


Bucky always favorited his flesh arm, it was the only one he was sure wouldn’t hurt you. You amazed him by not being afraid of his metal arm, always commenting how hot it made him look instead and how it didn’t define who he was. Eventually he got comfortable enough to not even think about it as he cuddled with you. You always dragged your fingers along the plates, you enjoyed the feeling of his hot body pressed to yours and the cold metal of his prosthetic arm.


With you, Wanda was all about physical contact. She liked having your body tucked against her own as she brushed her fingers through your hair. Being close to you gave her a sense of comfort and security, you made her feel like she wasn’t a weapon of mass destruction. 


Nat took on the dominant role in the relationship pretty early on. She was a bit taller which made her life much easier when it came to cuddling with you. She got to rest her head on your temple while your legs intertwined beautifully. She felt like she could protect you better with her holding you, as if you were the only thing she cared about in the entire world.

Lazy days with Calum would be so nice and relaxing, you’d both vow to leave your phones in your shared room and set up a nice cosy spot on the couch with blankets and pillows and you’d curl up against Calum’s chest, your hand resting  over his heart, feeling it pick up speed whenever you caught him glancing down at you before he’d look away with blushing cheeks and a sheepish grin making you laugh to yourself. He’d constantly be trying to make you laugh by telling jokes or jokingly making fun of someone on tv by mimicking their voice or actions and you’d fall asleep on his chest, your hand clutching his soft t-shirt as you sleep peacefully in his safe embrace and Calum would just watch you thinking how lucky he is to have you.  

Words to be Careful Pronouncing

It’s no secret that french is hard to pronounce. From the throaty R to the nasally vowels, you can’t tell if you’re really speaking french or just a bad caricature of Pepe le Pew. I’ve taken french for 9 years and I still make pronunciation mistakes daily. Here’s a list of some words I’ve said incorrectly recently.

Canard (duck) can easily become connard (a**hole)

Cannes (city in France) can easily become con (idiot)

Chat (cat) can easily become chatte (p***y) 

Décidé (decided) can easily become décédé (deceased)

Gare (train station) can easily become guerre (war)

L’amour (love) can easily become la mort (death)

Pêcher (fish) can easily become pécher (to sin)

What happened when I mispronounced these words? Usually…nothing. Either the other person would politely correct me or I would realize later that their sheepish grin meant I probably said something slightly inappropriate. Its okay to make mistakes though! We’re human. And more than likely you will get a funny story out of it (: