Roman: Am I not clever, well-mannered, considerate, passionate, charming, as kind as I’m handsome- Virgil: No. You’re not.
Patton: I’m already so emotional, why on earth are you doing this to me? Logan: All I’m doing is playing music from Les Mis. Patton: *sobs* I know!
Virgil: How many bones do you think I would break if I fell off stage? Logan: Well, it’s hard to say. Depends on whether you’re falling forwards or backwards, what part of your body you land on, there’s a lot factors with those kinds of things. Virgil: Well, only one way to find out. *Hurls self off stage* Ow.
Logan: *Sliding across the stage in fuzzy socks* FOR SCIENCE! Patton and Virgil: STOP! You’re going to hurt yourself! Logan: *Stops sliding, falls on butt* Worth it for SCIENCE!
Roman: *Swinging prop sword all around* HI-YA! I will vanquish ALL THE FOES! *Accidentally hits Virgil hard enough to leave a mark* Oops. Virgil: Dude, that’s kinky. Patton: *From across the room* You guys are so CUTE! And GAY!
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m really loving these character and this series. Thank you for your wonderful responses. I also love the debate that this made last night, it’s so special to see people invested enough in these characters that they pick sides. A special thank you to the people who looked this over for me @atc74 and @sylverminx
This is unbetaed, all mistakes are my own
***THE TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED**
The tears stream down your face, hot and messy, you don’t bother to brush them away. You don’t know where you were planning on going, your feet are stuck here in the dimly lit parking lot as your eyes search, brain on overdrive trying to think of something, anything to make this better.
A hand on your shoulder makes you fling around, scared, you hadn’t heard Sam walk up behind you, “Y/N?”
You don’t say anything, just wrap your arms around your friend and let him pull you against him as he tells you that everything is going to be alright.
His arms loosen and he pulls your face up, “Where are you going?”
“I-I don’t know,” you sob, the words tumbling out.
“Come on,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, “nothing’s open now anyways.”
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***
You’d been surprised when Steve had offered to let you use his machine. You’d run into him on yet another trip down the stairs to the laundry room in the basement, the basket of clothes in your arms overflowing because you always waited until the last possible minute to do your laundry. Running up and down the stairs several times a day was just not appealing. He’d come around the corner, jogging up the stairs, effortlessly of course, sliding to a stop when he saw you.
You’d chatted, he’d flirted, you’d blushed, he’d offered the use of his machine, which you’d refused, sure he was just doing it to be polite. An hour later, he’d shown up at your door with a key in his hand, insisting you take it. You’d finally agreed, giggling at the grin it brought to his face.
“Thank you, Steve,” you’d said. “Really.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d winked and disappeared back into his apartment.
Ashton chuckles and looks to you at his side. “That’s the fourth dog you’ve said you wanted since we got here.”
It’s true, but you can’t help it. You always get dog-envy at the farmers’ market, exposed to too many cute pups at once for your little heart to handle.
“We should get one,” you say passively, adoring a large german shepherd trotting by with its owner. “Y'know, if we ever live together.”
Ashton smirks, turning his head. “I love how you’re not even worried about scaring me with plans for the future.”
Your cheeks redden, having not noticed the implications when you said it. It’s only been three months since the fight that started it all, since you and Ashton agreed to give your relationship a title, and you suppose you should be more careful about vocalizing your whimsical thoughts. Your guard just naturally falls around him, the pressure to play safe wiped away by his equal and obvious feelings toward you. Talk of commitment doesn’t affect him the way it does most people. If Ashton was going to run, he would’ve done so by now.
You glance down at his fingers between yours, smiling because you don’t think he’s let go of your hand all day. With his hectic training schedule for another upcoming fight and your demanding attendance at university four days a week, the two of you have recently been missing each other more than actually seeing each other, and it appears Ashton wants to make up for lost time in the form of suffocating your palm–not that you mind. For someone whose fists can be classified as lethal weapons, he has quite a gentle grip when it comes to you.
Marinette had a strange fear revolving around bugs, particularly scorpions (bug family or not Marinette considered them a bug and she was absolutely terrified of them). Needless to say Marinette was more than a little on edge when a guest speaker came to her class with containers and containers of bugs, including scorpions. While most girls were squealing over the various spiders and tarantulas Marinette eyed the scorpion’s cage warily. She wiped sweaty palms against her jeans and swallowed hard. Her heart drummed in her chest and her breathing felt much too shallow.
“Girl chill out it’s in a cage!” Alya shook her head.
“It could still get out!” Marinette pointed out.
“We’re almost legal adults and you’re telling me you still have a phobia of scorpions?” Alya shook her head incredulously.
“You’re still afraid of swing sets!” Marinette shot back.
“Hey those things are a deathtrap!!!” Alya snapped. Marinette raised an eyebrow at Alya’s outburst. Alya took a deep calming breath. “Okay you’re right but don’t you think it’s about time we faced our fears? Maybe today is the day we leave these silly phobias behind…” Alya urged Marinette towards the table of critters. Marinette’s chest tightened. She shook her head violently, flipping around in Alya’s arms and looking up at her pleadingly.
“Today is not that day!” Marinette pushed Alya away from the table, a lump already forming in Marinette’s throat. Alya sighed in resignation, patting her friend comfortingly on the back. Adrien noticed the girl in distress and began to move away from the table to see what was wrong. All the while Lila sat by and watched. She sent a loathsome look towards Marinette. Lila looked towards the table, smiling cruelly as she discreetly knocked one of the containers to the ground releasing its contents unknowingly into the classroom.
“Hey Marinette is everything okay?” Adrien asked. He knit his brows together as he looked on the frightened girl. Marinette squeaked, nearly jumping into the air at the sound of his voice. She turned to him pulling at one of her pigtails as she did so, cheeks pink.
“I’m fine! I just I- um- I- uh- bugs um they uh- the scorpions they- I uh-“ Marinette fumbled for words running her fingers nervously through one of her pigtails. A smile pulled at the edges of Adrien’s lips.
“Not a fan of scorpions?” Marinette nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Want to know something? I’m afraid of spiders,” Adrien admitted.
“Y-you are?!” Marinette’s eyebrows shot up into her bangs.
“Yeah, they really freak me out.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“They do kill 6.6 people every year!” Marinette blurted. Adrien chuckled.
“So they kill six people and a half person?” Adrien smirked tilting his head to the side.
“Well technically it would by 60% of a person,” Marinette babbled, face growing red. She couldn’t believe she was saying this. To her relief Adrien laughed.
“Somehow I think we are getting this statistic wrong,” Adrien said.
“We probably-“ before Marinette could finish the thought Lila let out a sharp scream. Everyone turned towards her in alarm. Her eyes were blown wide as she pointed a shaky hand towards Marinette.
“Scorpion!!” she shouted. Marinette’s heart beat sped out of control. Her mouth went dry as her head slowly shifted down to see a small black scorpion resting on her foot. Marinette screamed as panic swept over her. Her body jerked backwards in an attempt to shake the scorpion from her. She stumbled backwards throat raw from the inhumanly high pitched noise emanating from her. She fell back onto the ground scorpion landing on her stomach. Her chest felt tight her breathing shallow and erratic. Perspiration lined her forehead. She could hear her pulse pounding haphazardly in her ears.
Sterek ficlet inspired by this: “i grew up not knowing i was royal and now i guess i’m heir to a throne and you’re the guy who’s supposed to be teaching me how to be royal bc i suck at it and oops we made out” au
This is kind of Princess-Diaries-ish. I know that’s been done before in this fandom (and thank god it has—it’s awesome), but I couldn’t help myself. Yay for self-indulgence!
Stiles thought the most annoying thing about suddenly being a royal heir to a small eastern European kingdom he’s never heard of would be the hyper-aggressive paparazzi, but he was dead wrong.
The most annoying thing is actually Derek Hale, the guy Stiles’ grandmother hired to teach Stiles how not to screw this up.
“Princes don’t chew with their mouths open, Stiles.”
“Princes don’t shove an entire fistful of curly fries in their mouths, Stiles.”
“Princes don’t wear pink-and-green plaid shirts from Target, Stiles.”
“Princes don’t slouch.”
They don’t slump, either, or yawn or sneeze or cough in public, or fist-pump, or drive beat-up old blue Jeeps, or wear bright colors, or rock out to the radio, or do anything fun.
Okay but i swear to you i will sacrifice my entire being for someone to write that pens!bitty fic or one shot. I need like air
(Alright, you monsters, I did this one, but I’m not great with RPF so this is probs it for Pens!Bitty <3 tw for concussion)
A sprained ankle here, a blown ACL there, and Bitty’s on the Penguins starting line flanking Sidney Crosby like it’s nothing. Like it’s no big deal he’s racking up assists left and right for the man who is going to displace two of Bad Bob’s career records this season. Like Eric didn’t have a debilitating fear of physical contact less than five years ago and is now playing for a team defending a championship title.
From behind, Sid looks like Jack. Or at least he has Jack’s ass, which is a hell of a thing to realize after being slammed into the boards. He’s disoriented enough to ask, “Jack?” when his captain skates up to check on him.
“Bittle, you okay?“
Eric blinks and the illusion is gone. No Jack, no Samwell, just the Pittsburgh Penguins beating the snot out of the New Jersey Devils. And the Devils beating the snot out of Eric.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Eric says, pulling himself to his feet and blinking through a blossoming headache. “You know you look a lot like Jack Zimmermann from behind?”
“Better not be a crack about my ass, Bittle,” Crosby elbows him lightly, herding him back to the bench.
“Aboot,” Eric echoes, “I wouldn’t joke about your ass, Captain. Special kind of cheek meat.“
That didn’t come out right…and why are the lights so bright? Are they always this bright?
Crosby slides to a stop and Eric bumps right into him. “You sure you aren’t concussed?” Though he’s asking, Eric can clearly see Sid waving over a trainer. Eric takes a moment to reflect on his situation, what he’s just said to his teammate.
“No, but you really look like my boyfriend.”
“You just said I look like Zimmermann.”
“I know. Jack Zimmermann looks like my boyfriend.”
Crosby connects invisible dots in midair with his finger. “I look like Jack Zimmermann, who looks like your boyfriend, who looks like me.”
“Yes. No?” That sounds right. Kinda.
“Bittle. Do I look like your boyfriend from behind?”
Eric nods, even though the motion makes his world tilt sideways.
“I look like your boyfriend, Jack Zimmermann, from behind.”
“Yes.” Wait. That’s a secret. “Shit, that’s a secret.”
“Fuck, yeah, you’re sitting this period out, buddy.”
Malkin slides up beside Crosby and gives Eric a once over. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Got his bell rung, thinks I’m his boyfriend.” Crosby slaps the rail twice with his glove and shoots Eric a wink. A couple of the boys whistle and holler while the trainer shines a light in Eric’s eyes. The part of Eric’s brain still functioning properly is probably really upset right now.
“I don’t think it’s a concussion, he’s just dazed.”
“I’m ready to go in, coach, just give me a chance.” Eric jokes, though no one laughs. “Ace Ventura? No?”
The arena turns sideways along with Eric’s stomach and he burps wetly. Sullivan makes a face and says something to the trainer and just like that Eric is being directed to the locker room for further examination.
Eric hopes this makes for a really funny story later.
A/N: This is kinda procrastination because I’m having a hard time finishing Redemption, but it’s coming along. I found this is my drafts so this is my “please don’t kill me Redemption is coming” phone sex. Also, I’d like to dedicate this to my lovely friend @sippingchai . Thank you for being as thirsty as I am lol. Enjoy ;)
You stretch your legs out as you sprawl across the
bed making the most obnoxious noise. Opening your eyes, you look over and see an
empty place in the bed where Shawn should be. The studio maybe? Who knows. You
stand up and make your way downstairs to the living room to sit on the couch. You turn on Netflix to watch the next season of Dexter. You and Shawn usually
watch it together, but you just can’t help yourself.
Summary: After breaking up with your fiance, you’re forced to move in with your twin brother, Bucky, and his best friend and roommate, Steve. Living with your brother is one thing. Living with the man you’ve harbored a crush on for the majority of your life is another. What could possibly go wrong?
Characters: Steve Rogers, Female Reader (Y/N Barnes), James “Bucky” Barnes, Brock Rumlow (mentioned), Natasha “Nat” Romanoff,
Word Count: 2849
Warnings: slight angst, sexual tension, unrequited love
Author’s Notes: This is my first Marvel series and AU. I write Supernatural on @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog. I drew inspiration from the television show “Three’s Company,” the movie “What’s Your Number?” and a bunch of other things. Thank you to the amazing @mamapeterson and @climbthatmooselikeatree for helping me - beta work, bouncing ideas off of them, and overall encouraging me.
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***