be sunday already

anonymous asked:

I would like to ask *ahem* BEG *ahem* in the kindest most polite way for you guys to PLEASE POST THE SPOILERS because I am honestly dying rn like the last stretch before getting the book is already hard enough but now that I know that there are spoilers I am literally procrastinating from doing all my schoolwork to wait for spoilers. Please alleviate my misery. And make my Saturday a little better because I already know Sunday is gonna be so bad since I'm procrastinating.

I GOTCHU *prepares battle the evil one*

HAPPY CARYL DAY, EVERYONE!

Anyway here in France we’re going to vote for our next president on Sunday and this is very scary because the only sure thing is that the nasty candidate of the Far-Right is the only one who is pretty sure to be there on the second round.

There’s a lot of chance I have to vote for someone I hate just because there’s no way the Far Right nasty is gonna be President. But people are tired to vote for “the less worse” and not for who they really believe in. I’m really really really scared about the next 2 weeks :/

Every Other Weekend pt. 4

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,725

Warnings: divorce, angst, cheating

A/N: going to have to close tags for this one. i’m so sorry. but i’m so glad you all enjoy it so much! and i hope you enjoy this part. really happy with it (:

Tagged: @defendors @thorne93 @winterboobaer @marvelfandom-stuff @all-around-geek @cchrriissuuu@katexbishopx @justreadingfics @frolicsomefawkes@dasani-saraai @awwtommo @aenna-4@courtneychicken @lorenaheartsyou@goldwanderer @irepeldirt @sebastianstantrash @tardisin221bst @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation @redroomproperty @elegantnightmareshiro@stomachfilledwithbutterflies @demongodess @buckyb-avengers @redlipstickandplaid @panda-reads-stuff @basse53 @chipilerendi @thewinterdorito @jenn48041

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

——

Originally posted by sebjpeg

“Just sign the damn papers!” Bucky raised his voice at you, angrily running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get to it. I have a lot to do.” You sighed, not facing him.

“That’s the last thing you have to do.” He spoke with a tense jaw.

“I can’t sign them. That means it’s over.”

“It is over.” Bucky’s hand ran over his face. “Just get it done, please. I don’t want to make this more messy than it is already.”  

Keep reading

A long one but this was crazy.

I work at QueenDairy. I’m the lead cake maker and assistant cake decorator, meaning I know basically everything to do with cakes.

This lady came in today claiming that she was supposed to pick up a cake that she had ordered. I didn’t hear any of the conversation since she was talking to my manager and I only got involved once things were getting crazy.

She said she ordered a cake Saturday night. I know that’s a lie because I was there that night and didn’t see anyone else take an order and I didn’t do it myself. She said she already paid for the cake, but the woman on register doesn’t remember her paying. She said that one of the shift leaders took her order; the girl she said took it, wasn’t even there at the time the lady said it happened. I asked her if it was a blizzard cake; if it was, then I would have had to make it since I was there already. Except I only had an order for Sunday and it was already picked up.

She claimed that she talked to someone this morning about the order. Someone with pink highlights. No one here has pink hair or pink highlights.

She claimed she paid $24 for her cake. Expect we don’t sell $24 cakes.

My manager went through Saturday’s entire transaction history and no such order existed.

My coworkers aren’t the best when it comes to taking cake orders, but I know what goes on in my area. I tried to explain to the lady about my position and that I never recieved such an order. I cleaned my freezers on Sunday and there wasn’t even a cake back there for her.

Since she couldn’t get her way, she wanted to pick a cake out from out case. Fine, no big deal. But she wanted everything on this one cake scrapped off, since she didn’t care how it looks. I’m so glad my manager didn’t make me do that! Like no way are we giving you an ugly cake.

Nevertheless, I’m glad my manager listened to me and believed me when I said her story was total bs. Good thing she didn’t get anything for free!

8

“Crowds began to collect in the great amphitheater early in the morning. The streets leading to Notre-Dame were thronged. Every window in all the lofty buildings around, and every balcony, was full. From ten to twelve the military bands began to arrive, and the long procession was formed, the different parties being dressed in various picturesque costumes. The ambassadors of various foreign potentates were present, each bearing their appropriate insignia. The legate of the pope, magnificently dressed, had an attendant bearing before him a cross of massive gold. The bridegroom, Francis the dauphin, followed this legate, and soon afterward came Mary, accompanied by the king. She was dressed in white. Her robe was embroidered with the figure of the lily, and it glittered with diamonds and ornaments of silver. As was the custom in those days, her dress formed a long train, which was borne by two young girls who walked behind her. She wore a diamond necklace, with a ring of immense value suspended from it, and upon her head was a golden coronet, enriched with diamonds and gems of inestimable value.”
                                                                                    – Jacob Abbott, Mary Queen of Scots

Letters from R. (young!Remus x reader)

10 Days – 10 Stories: Day 10 – Remus Lupin

Summary: During your summer holidays, you receive letters from an unknown person on a regular basis… but who is the shy boy that confesses his interest in you without revealing his identity?

A/N: This one came into my mind quite spontaneously. It’s longer, just because I didn’t want to rush it even more than I already did lol.

Word count: 2,128

(Y/N) = your name

Warnings: flufffff

(Masterlist)

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Keep reading

Mr. Cupcake and the Rat: A Note

@unpretty​ this is your fault 

Link to Part One of Mr. Cupcake and the Rat

Ren had settled into something akin to a comfortable routine, as much as anyone on the streets could possibly hope to. Every day brought new chaos. The bakery she had staked out as the center of her territory was on the rougher, poorer side of town, and she never knew when violence or cops would spill into her attempt at a peaceful existence.

She’d been heckled while digging through a trash can. When she hadn’t reacted, they’d thrown a bottle at her head. Her hat, an oversized beanie the same dark color as the dirty, matted hair it covered, had kept any glass from digging into her skull, but she had a hell of a headache and was dizzy. That was the sort of thing that made every day different from the next.

But there were some comforting constants.

She swung by the back alley by her bakery. She was quite late, and it was Sunday, so he would already be closed. But no one else came by, which meant… yes.

A little brown bag sitting on the step by the door into the bakery. She snatched it up quickly, stuffing part of it into her mouth so she could use all her limbs. Teeth clenched around the top of the bag, she clambered up onto the dumpster. In a practiced movement, she backed up to the corner, ran forward, and leapt. She caught the bottom rung of the fire escape on the next building, then hauled herself up. She climbed up another two stories on the fire escape, then, bag still dangling from her mouth, leapt onto the bakery roof. She landed on all fours, scrambled across the tile to the end of the house where the roof was at its highest. She slid off of it automatically, arms, then head, then chest and body, feet catching briefly around the edge as she swung herself down. The window was unlocked, because she never locked it. A metal ruler she left sticking out of the bottom made it easy to pry open, and then she slithered in.

The whole effort took less than thirty seconds.

She was getting very good at it.

The attic above the bakery was dark, but that didn’t bother her at all. She’d found a flashlight in an old box, and she had very good night vision. She clambered over bare plywood to her little corner, by the window, hidden behind a whole host of old, dusty boxes. There was a thick pile of blankets on it. She prodded at it a few times to figure out where all the rats were, moving some of them aside, before settling in.

She flicked the flashlight on and opened the bag. Inside was a saran wrapped sandwich, something wrapped in tin foil, two children’s juice boxes, and… ooooh, eclairs. She pulled it all out excitedly, using one of the boxes as a makeshift table. She started with the sandwich, unwrapping it and then carefully sticking the saran wrap around the existent ball of the stuff she was collecting. She didn’t know what for yet. Inside the foil were some sort of puffy baked things, folded and fluffy and filled with white poofyness that might have been cream cheese or something, and flecks of green. She poked at them. Lettuce? She didn’t know. It was too dark to be lettuce, she was pretty sure.

Curiously, she took a bite.

It tasted good, savory and creamy at the same time. She shrugged. It didn’t matter what was in it if it tasted good.

The juice boxes contained soy milk. One was chocolate. She drank that one first.

She fed the dozen or so rats in her blankets little pieces of bread and meat from the sandwich, which was full of some sort of chipped meat, and a vinegary sort of… cabbage maybe? Or a weird pale pickle. And cheese. And some kind of sauce. She didn’t rightly know, but it was good and the bread had a pretty, swirly design on it. The rats didn’t like the weird vinegar cabbage so she got to eat all of that herself. She really liked it. She wondered if she’d ever get to eat it again.

After she and the rats had devoured every last crumb, and the foil had been safely balled up around her Ball of Foil, which sat next to her Ball of Saran Wrap on her makeshift shelf, she flicked on her flashlight and grabbed the empty bag. It was a little greasy at the bottom from sitting for so long, but she could still use the sides. Eagerly, she went to tear it, then paused.

Something was… already written on the side?

She squinted at it, shaking the flashlight to get it to light up better.

“There is an Oktoberfest party today a few blocks away. Please watch out for drunks. Did you know otters have a special pouch where they keep their favorite rock?”

She tilted her head to the side, running a thin finger over the words, written in an unfamiliar scrawl.

Had Mr. Cupcake written this, then? He had never written her anything on a bag before. Except the first time, when he had written LUNCH in large letters.

A party… drunks. That explained the belligerence and the bottle.

She stared at the words for a while longer then flipped over onto her stomach, grabbing the sharpie she used to draw little pictures on the bags after she had eaten.

In careful letters underneath, she wrote, “One of them hit me.” She paused. “With a bottle.” That seemed like it might be an important clarification. Then, below that… “I did not know that. Did you know that rats laugh when they are happy?”

She stared at the words on the paper for a while. She doodled a little rat, laughing, the words HA HA HA over its head. She stared for a while longer. She had never written anyone a letter before. She was pretty sure this wasn’t how you did it. She wrestled with indecision for a while longer, before she tore the bag, carefully, so that the words didn’t rip. Then she taped it onto the slanted roof above her make-shift bed, with her other paper-bag doodles. This was paper bag lunch number fourteen.

She hoped tomorrow would be fifteen.

She hoped tomorrow would have more words on it, too.

She yawned, stomach gurgling and full, and curled up, pulling one of the many blankets over her head. The rats settled in around her, and she drifted into sleep, very full and very warm.