I don’t even know. I was taking a walk today and this idea popped into my head. I swear I’m still writing the bookstore AU, too. Also, *pops confetti*, I hit 2k followers today! Who ARE all you guys? Anyway, this fluff/ridiculousness is for you. ~1.6k words, rated G. Sterek, of course.
The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.
“God, someone shut him up,” Erica groans. They’re all kind of at their breaking point by now; they’ve been camped out in this meeting room all day, brainstorming. “He’s been talking about the same goddamn sandwich for seven and a half minutes now, and it’s making me hungry.”
“If only our ad campaign were about sandwiches, Stilinski would have it in the bag and we could all go home,” Isaac sighs.
From across the table, Derek rises abruptly to his feet and storms out. (Or maybe it’s just that Stiles always interprets everything Derek does as stormy. With those eyebrows, it’s hard not to.)
Stiles assumes he’s just gotten so fed up with them all that it’s either storm out or kill someone, and he’s just grateful Derek chose Door Number 1. It’s a good day not to get killed by Derek Hale.
Only, fifteen minutes later he comes back in. With a paper bag from the deli.
As soon as he gets within grabbing distance, Stiles practically collapses across the table in his haste to reach for it. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”
Derek holds it up over his head. “Who says this is for you? Maybe all your talk inspired me to go get a meatball sub of my own.”
“Oh, please. Like anyone with your abs eats meatball subs.” Stiles leaps to his feet on his swivel chair—because screw safety, Derek will catch him if he starts to topple over—and snatches the bag out of Derek’s grip. Derek doesn’t fight him for it very hard.
“Why don’t I get a meatball sub?” Erica whines, thumping her head down on her notebook. “Doesn’t anyone love me?”
Derek shrugs and takes his seat again. “You didn’t ask.”
“You just like Stilinski better,” she grumbles, and Derek just shrugs again.
Meanwhile, Stiles rips into the bag and takes a huge bite out of the gloriousness that is this sandwich. He can’t help throwing in a few theatrical moans just to taunt Erica, and she suitably rewards him with a glare of death across the table.
“Mmm,” Stiles says. “Derek, I love you so much, dude. Marry me.”
Instead of the grumpy eyebrows he expects, Derek meets his eye, leans back smugly in his chair, and says, “Okay.”
• Every time I go in a Target, I become invisible. People can’t hear me talking to them even when I’m standing right in front of them. Waving in their faces doesn’t seem to work.
• I once walked up to an entire group of red-vest-wearing employees and had all five of them walk away from me mid-question.
•They seem to migrate from the toy section to the food section like soulless jellyfish.
• They don’t know if Target sells dish soap.
• I don’t know if Target sells dish soap.
• Once, a person walked over, picked up a fuzzy throw-blanket out of my cart, and left with it while I stood there telling them that it was mine.
• The always weirdly crowded shoe section that’s mostly sandals.
• Last month I stopped in the mini Starbucks area of Target and stepped up to a surprisingly empty counter (for the middle of the day). No one appeared for the entire twenty minutes that I waited, but the lights went off and on a few times.
• I once saw a man entering Target with a screaming child over his shoulder. She had an ‘Out of Order’ sign in her hand, and kept repeating, ’I don’t want to go here.
• Their clothing sizes are darkest black magic.
• The changing rooms. (Before they vanished.)
• I lost four people in the middle of the furniture isle. I found them a half hour later in Hot Topic.
• I once stopped at a Target for a bathroom break during a long road-trip. When I entered the store, half the lights were off in the back section, and someone was yelling, “STOP IT, YOU GIANT BITCH!”
• There’s always a questionable swamp in the corner of the Target bathroom.
• When they switch all the moving/talking Halloween items over to the moving/talking Christmas items.
• I’ve seen eight different dogs wandering around by themselves.
• The local Target has birds flying around inside all the time.
• When I was a teenager there was this guy who drove around the Target parking lot blasting the chicken dance and dancing with his shoulders.
• I’ve seen a thousand mirrors break in Target during ‘move into your dorm room’ season. Doubt anybody buried a potato.
• They owe me $20
• I keep finding children in the clothing racks. (I don’t keep them.)
• You can never return anything, ever.
• If you eat their food you probably will never be able to return to the human world.
• Every picture I take in there comes out weird. Blurry, too bright, smudgy, wavy, too dark, weirdly green???
• That last checkout lane at the end with all the ‘as seen on Tv’ items and a million creepy jugs of green liquid for kids.
• I have 14 year-old socks from Target that look brand new. (My clothes typically develop holes the moment I look at them.)
• The animal heads.
• Pit of Death (aka: the far back corner where seasonal stuff goes to die.)
• I once kicked one of the giant red orbs outside and it moved.
• I watched a guy causally glide out of the loading doors and into the parking lot on a huge dolly.
• The ‘Is This Actually Only A Dollar Or Is It Five?’ section.
• I spent a half hour listening to a guy tell me why I needed an IPhone or I can’t be a part of human society. This was before the first iPhone was even for sale in the store.
• It’s bigger on the inside.
• I found this hideous lump of a fur hat for sale last winter, and wore it around the store my entire time there. Still invisible.