Dollar Bin

Someone posted a “Can you write romance even if you hate read it” question in and erotic authors subbreddit, and Gods Alive, save me from the assholes who picked up a romance novel from the dollar bin once and now consider themselves experts. I wouldn’t have stepped into it if I thought it was going to be more of that, but dammit, you’re erotica writers, you’re supposed to do the goddamn research!

Even worse is the woman saying, “That’s why I write m/m! I just can’t empathize with female characters ever!!! So I just basically write m/f and switch the genders of the female and its so much better!!!” 

HOLY INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY, BATMAN.

Lightsaber Battle - Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Words: 1358
Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Featuring: Tony Stark
Warnings: swearing, maybe
Requested by anon
Pietro and the reader having a lightsaber battle in the middle of the toy section
Summary: What happens when you and Pietro are in the toy section and Pietro is pracitcally a toddler in a store? Chaos ensues.
Authors Note: this was so much fun omf

Pietro Maximoff / Full Masterlist

Ao3


“Target could be my second home,” You marveled as you walked into the doors of the large store.

Pietro laughed. “Well, you do come here a lot.”

“Because I love it!” You squealed and walked to where the one-dollar section was.

With a roll of the eyes, he put his hand on your shoulder. “That, and Tony kicks us out of the base a lot.”

Shrugging, you picked up random things in the one-dollar bins. Tony does kick you two out of the base a lot, mainly because when you don’t have anything to do, you annoy someone until you are entertained and come up with something to do. He’s usually the easiest to annoy, not to mention that he gets annoyed really easily, and his reactions are typically the funniest.

You walked up to the nearest employee, doing like you and Pietro always do. “Excuse me, miss, where are the toasters?” You linked onto Pietro’s arm. “My husband is really worried about the fact that we do not have a toaster and I’m afraid he’s going to break down if he doesn’t see a toaster soon,” You told the girl who seemed to be a bit older.

She quickly directed you to where the toasters would be, and once she was out of sight, the two of you broke into a fit of laughter. “That was a good one. I’m really passionate about toasters,” He laughed. It was almost a tradition after the many times you two have been to Target recently, asking the staff random and strange questions. Sometimes he was your son, sometimes you were a random stranger, and today he was your husband. Of course, you two were only friends, which made it only funnier.

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@sixpenceee @sixpenceeeblog I got the soundtrack to the Graduate in the dollar bin of my record store, and JUST THE INSTRUMENTAL is fucked up. It’s absolutely some sixpenceee shit.

anonymous asked:

imagine on Valentine's Day,,aka Derek Malik Nurse's (loml) birthday, and everyone is super focused on their SO (Derek isn't mad, he's used to it) he goes the whole day thinking everyone forgot until he gets invited over to the haus for team dinner and is surprised w a birthday party, and this boy is so overwhelmed he's like lowkey almost in tears. he asks who planned it and everyone looks at dex, who had the date circled w hearts all year. This is pre-relationship but they're Screwed

this is the cutest prompt ever and it jumped right to the top of my list ooops hehe. this starts off kind of boring because nursey’s day also starts off boring, so stick in there lmao. i liked writing this a lot, so enjoy!

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A Story about the Tin Whistle

So at my old college, the first weekend every store in the town would have a sale. Being that it was primarily a music school there was a music store and so my roommate being a music major, wanted to go inside.

There was a five dollar bin and in the bin was a record with a coloring book of Frozen with it. I had to have it. It was disappointing to find that sheet music for a recorder didn’t work with it but tin whistle sheet music seemed to work. So technically it isn’t a tin whistle, it’s a recorder that is cheaply made. 

That’s not even where the story begins.

I loved the tin whistle and I learned how to play classics. One night after a night learning Hedwig’s Theme, I realized my window had been open. And someone had posted on Yik Yak about me. 

Being the ho for attention that I am I decided to sit in the window and play my tin whistle. The only songs I knew from memory at this point were Christmas Carols, so in Mid-October at 3 in the morning, I sat in my window and played Christmas carols for all the campus to hear. 

I did that many nights, and was Yik Yaks about many times. I also though, disturbed my RA many times, three times to be exact. And received a noise citation. At my old school when you apply to be an RA they look at your record to see what kind of person you are, if you have any citations.

The interviewer for this position had to look me in the eyes and ask me why I was playing Christmas Carols at ungodly hours of the night, three times. I told him that I did it a lot more than three times, but other students had found it entertaining.

Needless to say I didn’t get the position. 

Giant: Ch. 5

When you leave someone
Their love lingers on,
Like a fresh wound
With no one to love.

The paper stared at her, refusing to blink. Lena knit her fingers together and rested her cheek on them as she lingered over the words that sat there. She blew air threw her lips and prepared herself to finally read her father’s words.

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J.D., 24

“My style is defined by the resourcefulness needed to look like what I feel I’m worth despite my poverty. The majority of my wardrobe (and furniture) is thrifted and dug out of dollar bins, so I’m not always sure about labels. This outfit is compromised of those finds from locations in San Francisco’s Mission District and Brooklyn, where I currently live. I have a lot of style icons and my looks vary by my mood. I’ll wear a dress one day, flannel the next, and sportswear the next.”

Sep 17, 2016 ∙ Mission-Dolores

(nurseydex ofc + “quiet they can hear us”)

“Uh. What are you doing?” William Poindexter is curled into a ball far too tiny to actually be his body, wedged between the green sofa and the wall with a stricken look on his face.

“Shh! Quiet, they can hear us!” He whisper shouts. His hand shoots out and wraps around Nursey’s ankle and, a quick tug later, Nursey is half on the floor next to Dex and half on the green couch.

“Okay.” Nursey says plainly. “This is cool and all, but why are you hiding behind the couch, dude?” Dex unwraps his fingers from Nursey’s ankle, slowly. For a fleeting moment, Nursey mourns the warmth, the contact.

“I dropped a pie.” Dex says, eyes closed tightly, and Nursey gasps.

“A fineable offense.” He whispers sagely and Dex nods tersely.

“I have twenty-four dollars and fifty-three cents in my bank account and I still haven’t finished Christmas shopping. Holster and Ransom are out there, somewhere; it’s either the sin bin or Christmas presents, and I have the feeling they’re more into instant gratification than anything.” Nursey laughs and struggles to quietly make himself more comfortable. His back is pressed against the corner of the couch now, legs encroaching upon Dex’s already-lacking personal space. He shoots Nursey a half hearted glare, but moves a little to make room.

“Hm. Quite a predicament.” Nursey says and Dex rolls his eyes. “Dropping a pie is, what, a two dollar fine?”

“Four, since it was peach. You know Bitty uses ‘only the finest Georgia peaches, Dex!’” He imitates. Nursey snickers.

“You sound like a cartoon character.” Nursey chirps and Dex shoves his legs but is grinning hard.

“Shut up, you dick.” Nursey puts up his hands in resignation. “Okay, but I made the pie, mostly, so should that shave off at least fifty cents?” Nursey takes a minute to ponder the fact.

“You could ask them?” He says, referring to the sin bin police in question. Dex’s eyes go wide.

“I told them I was getting my wallet.”

“Okay?”

“Two hours ago.”

“Oh.” Nursey’s eyes widen as well. “Evading fines is a taxable offense.”

“Yep.” Dex says, popping the ‘p’.

“Poindexter, you dumbass.”

“What! Sorry that I wanted to get you guys something nice for Christmas!” His eyes are closed again and he props his elbow up on Nursey’s shin. It hurts, a bit, but he likes the contact. “Fuck you guys, everyone is getting the ice off my blades for Christmas.”

“Dang, that’s worse than last year when you tried to knit everyone sweaters.” Dex shoves him again, harder.

“Dude, I gave Chowder and Bitty, like, the best fuckin’ sweaters known to man, sorry I didn’t have time to finish all of them.”

“I’m still holding out for that sweater, Poindexter.” Dex laughs loudly and it lights up the room. Nursey sighs.

William J. Poindexter!” A voice booms from the doorway. Dex’s eyes shoot open.

“Oh my god,” he groans, arm dropping before tightly gripping Nursey’s shin. His eyes are wide again. “Hide me, what the fuck.” He shimmies further into himself, pressing behind the couch tightly.

“Don’t think we cant’s see you!” Nursey hears Ransom shout. Then, he makes a snap judgement call and, against Dex’s protests, unfolds himself and stumbles up into Ransom and Holster’s line of vision. Both of them are wearing Samwell Men’s Hockey tank tops, black sunglasses, and red bandanas. Holster is cradling the sin bin in his arms like a newborn baby, or a wounded animal.

“Uh. Hey, guys.” Nursey smiles; he watches as their eyebrows rise above the line of their sunglasses.

“Hey, Nursey, have you seen Dex around?” Holster asks, walking towards the couch. Nursey does the same, as nonchalantly as he can, in hopes of keeping the pair from getting too close.

“Nah, I think I saw him up at the dorms a little while ago, though. Why?” Holster’s mouth sets to a tight line and he lifts his sunglasses, squints.

“I don’t believe you.” He says, bending a bit to be on Nursey’s level. Honestly, he’s a little intimidated, but the whole situation, how serious they’re taking it, undermines his fear. Ransom butts in.

“William J. Poindexter dropped a pie at 2:32 pm.”

“Two dollars!” Holster interjects.

“It was a peach pie.”

“Two more dollars!” Holster interjects again, slapping the back of his hand against his palm.

“It is now 4:17.” Ransom says and it’s in his captain voice, dear god.

“One additional dollar per hour it takes to pay the fine!”

“William J Poindexter owes the sin bin six dollars. There are four witnesses willing to testify.”

“Oh.” Nursey breathes. “Uh.” He reaches around to his pocket, pulls out his wallet. He pauses, looks at the d-men before him, pulls out a ten dollar bill. He bends over and drops it into the jar in Holster’s arms.

“Hm.” The pair make eye contact. “Allow us to deliberate.” Holster says and they begin discussing in hushed voices.

“We have decided to accept your payment on behalf of William J. Poindexter.” And then they’re gone.

“What the fuck.” Nursey groans dropping back down next to Dex. “I willingly signed up to be on this team, what the fuck.”

“Thanks, Nursey.” Dex laughs and begins to uncurl himself from behind the couch.

“No problem, man. Glad you’re not freaking out about me spending money on you, though.” He says, shoving at Dex’s shoulder. The other boy stretches his neck a few times and groans.

“God I was down there for too long.” Dex looks at Nursey thoughtfully. “But yeah, I dunno, I’ll just make it even. How about a brunch date?” Dex asks.

“How about a normal date?” Nursey fires back before he can think about what he said. Dex’s face goes blank.

“How about a normal date that happens to take place within the time frame typically accepted as 'brunch’?” Dex asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

“Hm,” Nursey pretends to think about it, as if his heart isn’t hammering in his chest so loud that he fears Dex might hear. “I think that would be a sufficient method of payback.” Nursey says with a sharp nod and puts his hand out for Dex to shake. The other boy rolls his eyes, grabs his hand, and pulls him forward before dropping a chaste kiss on his cheek, right below his left cheek bone. Nursey body goes warm, his entire face igniting.

“10 am tomorrow.” Dex says before leaving the room.

anonymous asked:

So I found a fun little paper garland in the dollar bin, and it didn't have a tag so I put it up behind guest service; we have some birthdays coming up and I figured it would be cute to have it there for the month and defect it later. And my boss agreed and helped me put it up! It was cute and innocent and a fun little celebratory decoration that took up literally no space and wasn't visible to guests. And the fucking morning GSA threw it away. Good thing I didn't buy it first. No fun allowed.