I-was-eating-when-this-happened

svt as things that happened at my old workplace
  • s.coups:"my cat taught me how to walk when i was a baby."
  • jeonghan:sleeping on shelves and clothes racks in the back room during 15 min breaks
  • joshua:manager brought in a donut box for us as a treat turns out it was filled with bagels
  • jun:using the steam from a steam iron as a facial smH
  • hoshi:talking about eating the raisins from trail mix because they have salt on them
  • wonwoo:staying up all night to scan and count inventory and mIsSing THE SUNRISE UGNALJLKAJKGJL
  • woozi:"they can't chew gum on the floor, so if they feel tired just give them this box of altoids."
  • dk:"where is everyone? i am a lost lamb and i need my shepherd."
  • mingyu:keeping pizza in their locker and then microwave the whole cardboard box
  • the8:daB, TWIRLLLL, DAb and DAB EVEN MORE. SO. MUCH. DABBING.
  • seungkwan:"my ideal type is blasian or ginger british."
  • vernon:pouring strange sauce into hands and lick it up and then offering the sauce to everyone else
  • dino:collect old employee photos to exchange like pokemon cards. signed pictures are collector's items
War and Peace

Alexander x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Warning: Cussing

Request: Could you do a alex x reader where alex finds out they’re super ticklish and he begins a tickle fight??

A/N: Surprise! Two in one weekend! This was just really fun to write. Sorry @ the requester if this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you requested. You said “tickle fight” and I turned it into a tickle war. Also, I feel like this one is kind of choppy and doesn’t transition between scenes very well, so my apologies. But besides that, enjoy my first Alex fic!


“The point is, Miss Hodge is not qualified to teach us physics!”

You rolled your eyes at Alex’s declaration. “Shut up, Al, and eat your peas.” Though everyone at your table admittedly agreed your physics teacher was the worst thing to happen to this school, this was the fourth time this week you had heard Alex ranting about it to the entire cafeteria from your lunch table. And it was Wednesday.

Still standing at his spot, he looked down begrudgingly at the food on his plate. “And this food is an abomination. Can this school hire anyone decent?” Your entire table groaned, knowing a rant about the school food was coming. You heard “Thanks Y/N” being grumbled from Angelica on your left.

As Alex took a deep breath to continue on with his probably written out and memorized speech on the different budgets the school could be using to deliver more acceptable food, you threw your fork down, attracting the attention of everyone at the table, including Alex.

“Alex, it’s been a really long and shitty week, and I understand everything at this school sucks, but could you just cool it for two seconds and eat your damn food?”

Everyone stared at you. Your eyes met Alex’s, which were wide in shock. His mouth hung half open, as if you interrupted the essay that was about to pour out. You grew uncomfortable under the stares, and quickly bent your head down and picked your fork back up to play with your food. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the standing figure sit down and pick up his fork to eat. You thought you heard him mumble a sincere “Sorry”. You sighed. You would have to apologize for that later.

The rest of the lunch period went by rather quietly and uncomfortably. Only a few of your friends were brave enough to start small talk, but all of it died pretty quickly. It was like you could read their minds: you had never yelled at Alex before. Never even been angry with him.

You weren’t angry at him the time he ditched you at prom to hang out with Maria and her friends. You weren’t angry at him when he starting dating Eliza. You weren’t even angry at him for still not asking you out. A little disappointed. But never angry. Alex was who Alex was.

You could feel the sideways glances he was shooting towards you, but you refused to meet any of them. You just forced the food down your throat and got up from the table as fast as you could.

As you were depositing your tray into the dishroom, you turned and practically ran into Alex. “Hey,” he said, almost out of breath, as if he had ran after you. He flashed you his signature smile, but you could tell there was still concern behind his eyes. “Do you want to skip next period and just go for a walk? You seem stressed.”

You were about to protest because both of you were model students and couldn’t just be skipping class on a whim, but today felt like the exception. You just nodded softly, and he took a step back to let you out of the dishroom first.

On your way to the doors out of the school, you happened to pass by your sister, which caused you to suppress a groan. At all costs, you tried to avoid taking Alex anywhere near your sister.

“Tory!” Alex called out, delighted by his luck. You couldn’t help but notice your sister’s face brightened as well. Bastards. “What do you have for me today?” Alex inquired eagerly.

Tory gave him a contemplative look and a smirk towards you before she finally said, “She’s ticklish.” You groaned.

Alex looked like he had just won the lottery.

A few years ago, when you and Alex officially became best friends, he struck a deal with your sister: every time they see each other, she tells him a fact about you. In exchange, Alex brings her and her drunk friends to Taco Bell any Saturday night they want. (The deal didn’t start off with her and her friends being drunk, but anymore, that’s what it ended up being, Alex had told you once.)

As soon as you were outside, you took a deep breath of fresh air and shuddered. Alex’s face turned from its smirk to suddenly becoming serious. “Y/N, do you want to talk about… anything?”

You sighed. “Like what?”

“Like… how you almost ripped my head off in there?” he asked cautiously.

You scoffed and shook your head. “I barely even raised my voice. Don’t be so dramatic.”

You could tell he could tell you were trying to change the focus of the topic, but he let it go for the time being. “You didn’t need to raise your voice. That made it scarier,” he said teasingly. You gave a small smile at the remark, but it quickly faded away.

“Y/N… I-I didn’t know my rants made you so upset. You should have told me. I would’ve have stopped,” he pleaded with you. You gave out a little laugh at the thought of Alex trying to hold his tongue on any rant.

“Your rants don’t make me upset, Alex. Don’t take what happened in there personally,” you finally said softly. You both walked a few steps in silence before he responded.

“Do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you then?” You knew he phrased it like a question, but it wasn’t a question.

You remained silent for a while, contemplating your response. “I didn’t get in,” you finally said softly. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What d-”

“Harvard,” you cut him off, your breath shaky. “I didn’t get in.” You stopped walking when you realized he had stopped a couple steps ago.

You turned around to face him, your eyes searching his. He just stared at you.

“How long have you known?” he finally asked.

You shrugged. “Couple days.”

“A couple days? Y/N, you should have told me. You should have come to me. I would have, I don’t-don’t know what I would have done, but I would have been there for you and not been ranting like some asshole,” he stated in disbelief, beginning to ramble. Quickly he closed the distance between you and wrapped you in a warm hug. It was the first time since you received your rejection letter you allowed yourself to cry.

“You know what,” he said, pulling back with his hands gripping your shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Fuck them. You’ve already got your acceptance to Columbia, and we’ll take over the whole damn school, okay?” He bent down so he was eye level with you and brought his hands up to wipe away your tears. You nodded gingerly. “You’re going to be so damn successful no matter where you go,” he said with such vigor. “I know Harvard was your dream, but Columbia’s still so amazing.”

You gave him a feeble smile, mostly so he would stop talking. His eyes, however, lit up when they saw the small upturn of the corners of your lips. Dread filled you when he started forming a suspicious smirk.

“That’s not quite enough smiling I like to see from you,” he said seriously. Your eyebrows furrowed, but then you felt his hands reach to your side.

“No!” you yelped, but it was too late. As he began tickling your sides, your face automatically broke out into a brilliant gleam as the giggles took over. It was hard to manage breathing and laughing, but somehow you found the time between gasps to strangle out “I… Hate… You.”

When he finally stopped, your sides hurt and you struggled to catch your breath, but you couldn’t quite wipe the smile from your face. Alex beamed proudly down at you as he observed the leftover smile from his antics. You looked gratefully into his eyes, but he seemed not to notice, for he was studying you intently as if he were about to say something. You swallowed thickly.

But instead of saying anything, he shook the look out of his eyes, and motioned to lead you back to the school.

For the next couple weeks, anytime he saw you looking slightly upset, he would come up to you without warning and start the tickling. You tried your hardest to find any weakness in his front, but he but he kept insisting “It’s useless. I’m not ticklish.”

Your entire group began referring to this as a “The War”. But mostly, it was just everyone against Alex. The one day Alex sat down at the table looking slightly peeved and disheveled. You all stared at him curiously until he turned his focus to Hercules.

“I swear to god, if you ever try to tickle my ass again, I will kick yours.” The entire table erupted in laughter, and Laf gave Herc a high five. You laughed especially hard, finally starting to relax back into your life. The rejection letter still stung, but it was stuff like this war that reminded you things like good friends were far more important.

Alex eventually joined in the laughter with a playful smile, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you that his eyes never left you as you laughed. You gave him a quizzical look through your smile, and he averted his eyes immediately from yours, shaking his head.

Alex made plans with you the following Saturday to just hang out at your house while waiting for the inevitable call from your sister to come pick her and her friends up. The War had settled down, as you barely ever looked sad these days, and you couldn’t help but be grateful for not having to be constantly paranoid of being viciously attacked in the hallways.

You stood in your basement trying to set up the tv for whichever movie the two of you decided to watch, when you felt an all too familiar feeling wash over you. Two hands dug into your sides, and your laughs caused you to cease breathing. While your body was all but flailing, you tried you best to control your arms enough to elbow the figure behind you. None of your attempts were successful.

As soon as he was done, you whipped around and shoved Alex playfully. It appeared he was laughing as hard as you.

“What the hell?” you asked when you regained your breath, still beaming. “Did I look sad?”

He met your eyes glowing. “No,” he answered simply. “You just didn’t look happy enough.” As he said the last words, his voice softened to a mellow murmur, and you felt a small amount of heat rise to your cheeks.

Somehow, you managed to roll your eyes through your heart flutter and quickly raised your hands to his sides trying to get the same effect out of him. He gave a small chuckle at your unsuccessful attempt.

“You have to be ticklish somewhere,” you huffed. Your hands moved their way up to his armpits to try again.

Throughout your life you have learned that when you become intently focused on a goal, everything else in your surroundings blur out. Which is why when you were focused on finding Alex’s ticklish spot, you didn’t notice his face gravitating towards yours until your lips made contact.

Your entire body froze as you inhaled a sharp breath. You thought you would feel lightheaded from how fast your heart was beating, and you closed your eyes because everything seemed to start blurring together.

When you finally regained control of your bodily functions, your hands quickly slipped behind his back. With your arms wrapped tightly around him, you pulled him closer until your bodies were flush with each other. You felt his hands messily run themselves through your hair, and you fought the urge to shiver.

His lips burned yours with desire you could tell had been building up for a while. You couldn’t stop the small smile from settling on top your face as he broke apart from you and lightly place his lips on your forehead.

When you finally both pulled away enough to see each other’s faces, he gave you a mischievous grin.

“My lips are ticklish,” he said, so convinced in his suave, you started doubling over in laughter. He cringed realizing what he said, and began trying to recover, but there was no recovery to be had at a line that terrible.

“Can we just forget I said it?” he asked desperately, worriedly observing the tears of laughter emitting themselves from your eyes.

When you managed to conjure up enough breath to breathe, you shook your head. “You just said ‘My lips are ticklish’ after our first kiss, and honestly you’re lucky I haven’t already texted Angelica about it.” He let out a low groan as the heat rose quickly to his face. You unashamedly admitted to yourself that you enjoyed making him blush.

Your upper hand over him didn’t last for long, however, for soon his hands were once again at your sides mercilessly tickling you. You wrapped your arms around him and desperately clung to him to try and keep control of your body.

“Okay! Okay! I surrender!” you shouted in pain. When he stopped, you took stock in how amazing his body heat felt against you. With a smirk you looked up at him and sincerely said, “I won’t text Angelica.” He seemed to visibly relax and you let go of him to quickly snatch your phone.

He warily watched you for a few moments before saying “You’re texting Herc aren’t you.”

“You betcha,” you responded with glee, and he let out an exaggerated groan and flopped onto your couch. You flashed him a smile and felt your heart swell up as he smiled back at you with wide eyes. The past couple weeks ran through your mind quickly: the rejection, the war. And for the first time in a while, you felt a calm settle over you.

Sometimes you needed a little conflict to bring a peace as satisfying as this.

anonymous asked:

omg so this morning i was at starbucks eating breakfast and this old guy just kept walking by and looking at me and my phone and i just happened to scroll by that gif of harry kinda like waving when you said you needed a nap and so i just left that sitting there and so when he walked by again he saw that then he looked at me and i looked back at him and he looked back at harry then back at me and then walked away and that's the story of how i used harry styles to ward off an old man

I’M CRACKING UP THIS GOT LOST IN MY INBOX, BUT THIS IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD!

Harry was happy to assist, I’m sure. 

Honestly, though, I’m in awe of all those writers who wrote things before laptops and before the internet. I mean, I can write fairly quickly by hand, but words tend to become illegible after a dozen pages, not to mention my fingers cramp and then I have to stop and move them before I start again and it’s super uncomfortable and goodbye metaphysical state of writing bliss - and what happens when you need to revise and edit? Urgh. Also, I’m old enough I remember what using a typewriter is like - the keys are so loud you can’t hear yourself think, and then after every line you have to push the goddamn thing back in? And get another sheet of paper, and whatever? Also, don’t get me started about what happens when you need information - those moments when it’s absolutely essential you know how to say flesh-eating ghost in Japanese and how Victorian women braided their hair and the difference between iron and cast iron.

The past: generally, a terrible, unfriendly place.

anonymous asked:

What kind of emergency would you need biscuits for? Why do you have secret biscuits?

I don’t need them as much now that John is here.  Before we lived together, there were a lot of times when I didn’t eat.  I would get to the point in which I knew that it had been too long and I needed something, but I couldn’t tolerate most foods.  When that happened, I could usually at least handle biscuits, so I always keep some for those times.  John’s good at finding things for me to eat, though.  I don’t need them as often now.

tELL PEOPLE HOW YOU FEEL BEFORE ITS TOO LATE I AM BEGGING YOU. UNSAID FEELINGS ARE THE FUCKIN WORST AND THEY WILL KILL YOU, COMPLETELY EAT YOU UP INSIDE AND MAKE YOU ROT AWAY. YOU GOTTA TELL PEOPLE HOW YOU FEEL, RIGHT NOW, RIGHT WHEN IT HAPPENS. TELL THEM YOU LOVE THEM, TELL THEM YOU WANNA MAKE THEM HAPPY, TELL THEM YOU MISS THEM, TELL THEM YOU DONT LIKE HOW THEY TREAT YOU, TELL THEM YOU FEEL SAD AND NEED HELP. PEOPLE WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU SAY EVEN IF IT HURTS A LITTLE AT FIRST. HONESTY IS REAL AND BEAUTIFUL AND FEELINGS THAT ARE SAID AND ACKNOWLEDGED EVEN IF THEYRE UNREQUITED ARE FUCKING RAW AND BEAUTIFUL AND HEY, AT LEAST YOU GOT IT OFF YOUR CHEST. SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BE HONEST WITH HOW YOU FEEL. LIFE IS FAR TOO SHORT TO HIDE BEHIND THE FEAR OF SOMEONE BEING MAD OR NOT FEELING THE SAME WAY. I PROMISE YOU. LIFE IS NOTHING WITHOUT THE SMALL RISKS OF SAYING HOW YOU FEEL. SO GO DO IT. SAY IT. I PROMISE ITLL BE WORTH IT. YOULL SEE.

For those unaware, this is in reference to the events that led up to the Dakota War aka The Dakota Conflict in 1862, where ‘Andrew Myrick, an Anglo trader, said “Let them eat grass, or their own dung” when the Dakota complained of late annuity payments and starvation.’ Many of Americans are unaware that this war happened at all, or the years of abuse Natives went through because Indian agents did things like withhold rations to force Natives to assimilate, or simply withed items that were supposed to go to Natives so they could get rich. (Things that were promised in the treaties to begin with)  They would also do other horrible things like make soup with rotting meat leftovers, getting many Natives sick. I read when they began deciding to butcher the animals in order to make soups for communities (to make sure there was more to take for themselves) when they threw out portions of meats not used such as entrails, if Natives went to take from those piles of materials that were simply being thrown out, wasted, they would shoot the Natives. Lets not forget the other deliberate campaigns of genocide such as settlers wiping out buffalo until the point of extinction simply to make sure Natives starved and attempt to destroy traditional ways. There was also the Dakota 38, the largest execution in US history, where even after that occured thousands of Dakota people, (including elders, women and children) were transferred on ships, forced to walk to prison camps like Fort Snelling, where over a period of 5 years many died due to the terrible conditions. Others were forced to read and write english just to keep in contact with their relatives and “convert” so not to be executed. 
I bring this up not to sulk about the genocide Natives have always faced, or to put our trauma up for consumption. I blog this as a reminder, that despite these horrible atrocities in history (and many others) , Oceti Sakowin people have been able to overcome and now the People are fighting to protect Mother Earth so that future generations can survive. This is not history repeating itself, this is the system of settler colonialism that Natives have been resisting and will continue to resist. In the past Oceti people were known to fight back after so many attempts to brutalize, starve and exterminate us. The only difference now in our response is that water protectors of Sacred Stone have been 100% peaceful, so as not to give settlers fuel to demonize us and do things in a good way, to unify all people. Many are willing to give up their lives to protect water. Greedy oil companies think they will command Natives to shut up, be quiet and drink oil without question. Looks like they have gotten a rude awakening.

mr robot: *camera slowly pans down a street where filthy millennials are taking pictures of their starbucks and sucking the caffè latte tit of online self-exposure and neonarcissism* society. h u m a n s . money……. how do we free ourselves from these chains crafted by our own hands. why do we feed into a dream that we know to be an illusion upheld by instagram and vlogging celebrities; this social media puppet show that we use and abuse as a distraction from the prison we live in, the capitalist purgatory we have crafted around ourselves through centuries of greed and selfishness. how long will it take before this rot eats through the foundation that upholds our society. what will happen when you are forced to unfollow…. yourself. when we have to give our own life….. a thumbs down
me: please…… i don’t care…… just show me elliot taking a nap…….

I can’t stop thinking about what must have happened in the fight between Hanzo and Genji. More specifically, I can’t stop thinking about how obscenely, totally one-sided it must have been.

Like, we know that Genji was at the brink of death afterwards and Hanzo walked away, but it’s more than that. 

Genji’s body was absolutely destroyed. His limbs are all prosthetic. His face is covered in scars. He mentions how he can no longer eat regular food in one of his voice lines. We only see his eyes when he removes his mask in the Dragons short, but even with the mask removed, there’s still metal visible on much of the lower half of his face, which might imply that he needed portions of his skull/jaw replaced as well. 

And then there’s Hanzo–who doesn’t have so much as a single visible scar. And if he does have scars, they’re certainly not anywhere on his body where you’d expect to see them if someone had tried to kill you, like his head, neck, and chest. I’m also working under the assumption that he doesn’t have prosthetic legs and just wears futuristic boots, based on the fact that his pants are tucked into them, they go over his knee but possess a normal, organic joint at the back, and his ‘ick’ reaction to finding out that so much of Genji’s body is now robotic. 

Like, Hanzo walked away from their fight completely unscathed, but Genji was mutilated. Mutilated, but not killed–which probably means Hanzo wasn’t just carrying it out like a normal assassination, quick and to the point. He was angry. It wasn’t enough just to kill himhe wanted to make Genji suffer for what (in Hanzo’s mind) he was making him do. He might have even deliberately made it so Genji’s death would be long and drawn out–something which ultimately allowed time to save him.

And Genji, in turn, barely fought back. In fact, he probably only made attempts to defend himself. The chipped sword is likely a direct result of that, since swords are not generally designed to block one another and are meant to simply cut through flesh. The aim is to kill your opponent fast, or at least hurt them enough to incapacitate them. As a trained assassin, Genji would have known that as well as anyone. But if you can’t (or won’t) do that, and you’re not fast enough to outright avoid a hit (Hanzo was a better swordsman, after all), then you block–and that’s what Genji did. He didn’t want to die–but more than that, he didn’t want to kill Hanzo. Didn’t want to hurt him at all. Was more content to let himself get chopped practically to pieces than to raise his sword against his brother.

That’s probably what motivated Hanzo’s guilt, as much as anything. If he’d given his brother an easy death–made it an honorable kill–he probably would have returned to his life as the heir feeling saddened but justified. But he fought Genji with the intent to crush him, to stomp him out like a cigarette butt, and Genji hardly did anything to stop it. He simply could not bring himself to fight back with everything he was capable of–not when he loved Hanzo so much. It’s no wonder Hanzo could barely live with himself afterwards. He had done such a monstrous, unforgivable thing to the only family he had left after the death of their father. And why? For what? 

So, realizing what the Shimada Clan was doing to him–what he would turn into if he stayed with them–he left. But, I’m sure he knows as well as any that that doesn’t quite erase what he did. Which may be part of why he reacts so angrily towards Genji when they reunite. 

Genji’s been alive all this time, and yet he never came for Hanzo. He could have settled the score, but instead he went after the Shimada clan itself, the ones who put him and his brother at odds to begin with, who made it so they had to fight. And there’s Hanzo, realizing all this and being so upset about it. Because after everything Hanzo has done to atone on his own, it’s Genji once again who forgives him. It’s Genji once again who loves him more–would probably have loved him just the same even if he hadn’t spent the last 10 years trying to make things right. And that must have been so frustrating for Hanzo to know that he’d abandoned everything, done so much to make things up to someone who never, ever even blamed him. All this time, he’s been carrying a burden which he inflicted upon himself. And once again, he has to ask himself, why? For what?

But by the end of Dragons, when he lays down his bow and returns to pray at the little shrine he’s made, he finally figures it out: for Genji.

160803 Jin’s Tweets

문구는 오리를 생으로 먹으면? 회오리 로 해주세여

Please use the phrase “(What happens) if you eat raw duck? A tornado” (on that photo).

(T/N: This is a pun/joke. 회 means “raw/sashimi” and 오리 means “duck but when put together, it creates the word 회오리 meaning “tornado”)

더 하고 싶지만 내 이미지가 웃긴 사람이 될까봐 그만할게여

I want to say more (jokes) but I’m scared my image will become that of a person who is funny so I’ll stop

Trans cr; Mary @ bts-trans
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