i know i thought it was the second one but i googled him

Putting Lipstick On A Pig

by reddit user Pippinacious

Except for the whole murder thing, Courtney James seemed like a lovely young woman. She was bright, articulate, a dedicated college student and well liked waitress at a popular restaurant.

I met her when she was sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct. She was a bit on the larger side, dressed conservatively in pastel colors and minimal makeup, and when I came in, she introduced herself with a polite smile, as if we were meeting for a job interview as opposed to a police investigation. She had declined to have an attorney present, so I got right to business.

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country singer bitty accidentally writes a hit about nhl player jack

Based on this post about the inspiration for Dolly Parton’s Jolene, which is somehow even gayer than the song itself. Bless you, Dolly.


It had started out so innocently.

Bitty had been tired after hours of this meet n’ greet, and when that tall drink of water walked up to get his autograph, Bitty couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Gosh, well aren’t you the most handsome fella I’ve ever seen,” he said, reached for the outstretched CD–CD! Who even bought CDs anymore?–and readied his Sharpie. “What’s your name, hun?”

“Uh, Jack,” the man said, pretty eyes going wide. If he’d been more awake, Bitty might’ve felt bad for making a fan uncomfortable. But if this Jack really were a fan, then he certainly wouldn’t have a problem with another man complimenting him. And besides, he was handsome, with his wide shoulders and high cheekbones and eyes as blue as the summer sky.

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(Super-fast idea, because I found this picture and, after laughing at the Sheriff’s face for two minutes straight, the idea hit me straight in the face)

Several years in the future, Derek and the Sheriff are kind of buddies.

Derek is now a consultant for the Beacon Hills police for any kind of supernatural crime or when they need his super sniffer in critical emergencies (Derek found the lost little girl almost immediately, while the K9 unit from the next town was still lost in the woods. The Sheriff was so proud. They never talk about the fact that they had to circle the town in John’s police car, Derek’s head hanging out of the window like a poodle on a roadtrip).

So John and Derek sometimes hang out, watch football match together, they have a beer, talk about Stiles’ news from college. They enjoy each other’s company in a very quiet, simple way.

Then, Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills for Christmas, and immediately comes out as bisexual to his dad.

The Sheriff blinks, then hugs him.

And that should be the end of it. John is genuinely glad that Stiles told him, and happy that he seems to grow up happy in his own skin.

John honestly doesn’t mean to search stuffs online, but he’s bored, and one innocent question about LGBT rights in California turn into a quick google search and quickly devolve into a spiral of links. John falls deep. Too deep.

He manages to keeps his anxiety at bay all the way to Derek’s home, and his knocks on the door are barely frantic. But Derek opens the door as if he is expecting the Sheriff to be on fire, so John guesses that he didn’t control his panic-stricken heartbeat as well as he thought.

After a few minutes of assuring Derek that no, Stiles is fine, John is fine, everyone is fine, no Stiles isn’t hurt, nobody’s kid got missing again, Melissa is fine, there is no monster eating anyone, Stiles is totally ok, and getting a glass of perfectly good whisky from Derek (who apparently keeps it around just for John), John finally explains.

Because Derek? Derek is bisexual.

They have talked about it in passing several times. Talked about Derek’s ex, Jeff, who used to be a cop in New Jersey until he got shot on duty and became a teacher. Talked of the creep Derek had to call the police on one night while he was drinking at the Jungle and despairing over the shitty techno music. Talked about the association for LGBT kids Derek gives money to, and that he goes help from times to times.

To the Sheriff, it never seemed like a detail more important than knowing that Derek hates cheap beer or that he is a sore loser when his sport team gets slaughtered.

But now, now it is important. Because the Sheriff needs someone with answers, precise answers, about things that he can’t ask directly to his kid.

About giant sex toys and trips to the ER and drugs use and STDs and biphobia and bullying.

He kind of blurt it all. Derek’s eyes look gigantic and his eyebrows almost fly off his forehead.

So that’s how Derek becomes the Sheriff’s mentor in everything LGBT.

It’s not as weird as it could be.


Derek answers all the questions as best as he can, tries to reassure him. When he doesn’t know (and he wonders where the Sheriff got these informations), they look for answers together online, while staying far away from certain websites.  

(All the while, Derek tries to ignore really, really hard, that Stiles is bisexual and apparently single. He fails).

Then maybe the Sheriff brings Derek back home in the hope that Derek will talk to Stiles about all these stuffs (because he’s not sure he has mastered the details enough to give the bisexual version of the Talk. Also, the image of the humongous dildo is still haunting him).

So they end up all around the kitchen table, Stiles looking bewildered and a little bit lost, Derek resigned and awkward and the Sheriff looking at them with crazy eyes (again, gigantic dildo. And ER trips. Melissa works there, this can never happen to them) until they start talking.

Stiles knows all those things. Derek knows that Stiles knows. They talk about it anyway because, well, the Sheriff is starting to turn grey in worry.

After a little while, Stiles finally understands that Derek is talking from experience. That Derek is bisexual. And single.

And Derek knows that Stiles is bisexual. And single.

The awkwardness quickly turns to vague innuendos, then obvious flirting, then eyefucking over mugs of coffee.

The Sheriff gets his colors back progressively. He wonders for a second if he should protest this development (the whole, 7 years older and a werewolf thing could be a problem), but really, Derek is a great man.

And he apparently knows how to use lube, condoms, and would never be stupid enough to use a gigantic dildo then lose it somewhere in his son.


All in all, he’s ok with the direction this whole thing is taking.


(You can find my other headcanons/not fic here and my fics on AO3. Please come say hi on tumblr when you want people :D)

brutally honest descriptions of the mbti types based off my experiences with them via a very sleep deprived infp

enfp:

-commitment issues? haha i’ve never heard of those :))))

-will literally punch a toddler in the throat if they say they support trump

-so i took the mbti test 7 times and i got infp twice and entp once?? i don’t really know, because i kind of fit into the infj sterotypes more, but if you really think about it i’m kind of an enfj? but i also really relate to isfps, but then again i think i’m too opinionated and logical to be a feeler, so entp isn’t out of the question, but i also feel like the entj cognitive functions really fit m

-genuinely love animals and it’s so pure

-hi sorry for not replying, i was in prison :3 also i moved to norway lol

-actually just the 2007 taco xd random aesthetic irl

-“i just came up with another book plot” texts approximately every 2.3 hours

isfp:

-hi i’m melissa i’m a 23 year old art school dropout and i abuse prescription pills but it’s okay because i have 200 followers on my grunge aesthetic instagram account. rent me an apartment?

-(talking about veganism to someone at a party) i just don’t understand how anyone could put all of that stuff in their body :/ *bends down to snort a line of cocaine*

-actually really artistically talented but much like the infp they refuse to give themselves any credit for it

-my dream man is someone who goes to coachella with me, helps me align my charkas, takes sad candid pictures of me, is willing to backpack around europe with me and my philosophy class during the summer,

-*googles* why do i share a type with literally every indie musician that has ever breathed lol

-probably fucked your girl in the back of a vape shop

infj:

-if you manage to find one never let them go they are some of the best people you’ll ever meet

-huge harry potter nerds

-can manage to get you to spill out your entire life story to them with a concerned glance

-please actually care for yourself for once and a while literally you do everything for everyone else just take some time for yourself god dammit you deserve it

-CATS™

-could be literally the most talented person in the world but would never come close to admitting it

-hi i’m actually just jesus christ irl! nice to meet you :-)

intj:

-they know everything

-like seriously everything it’s kind of scary like calm down karl

- allows themselves to recognize exactly one (1) human emotion per year

-can read for hours on end without getting bored and genuinely loves learning

-are generally dicks tbh especially to the people they love the most

-wikipedia articles™

-they actually aren’t actually the emotionless robots tumblr seems to display them as, they are actually extremely emotional in my experience and tend to get offended/upset easily and over small things

-sci-fi, cats, and machines > humans

-superiority complex™

-cute when they aren’t busy throwing tantrums/crushing the souls of their enemies

esfj:

-hi i’m martha, i’m 32 years young, i like long walks by the beach, yoga, and judging my neighbors for not mowing their lawn :-)  

-tend to be extra™ parents and their kids can either turn out complete emotional wreck assholes because they’ve never been disciplined or the happiest child you’ll ever meet, there is no in between

-they may be complete snakes and have never came up with an original idea in their entire life but boy can they make a killer chicken parmesan

-kind of comforting in a mother-like sense when they aren’t busy being judgmental dicks

-will clean your entire house for you on a whim

infp:

-wow i love being an infj :)) top 1% haha :))

-will literally develop a crush on someone because they say they know what tumblr is

-find purpose in writing/creating in general

-ending toxic relationships?? haha what’s that??? :))

-constantly switches between their “you can’t control me it isn’t a phase mom go away >:(( my chemical pilots at the disco saved me xd i will literally punch a baby fuck the system i’m 2cool4school” persona and their “i’m such a smol bean :3 save all the animals <333 i love pretty girls and dogs :))” persona

-“can i txt you back in like 15 mins i’m having an emotional breakdown lol”

-actually genuinely empathetic and creatively gifted but gives themself credit for none of it

-intelligent but fails classes because their teacher said something that went against their morals

-playing the victim? never heard of it! :))

-secretly just meme hoarders

-attention whores tbh i won’t even deny it

-o v e r d r a m a t i c

entp:

-hi it’s 6 fucking am and everyone just wants to go back to sleep or die or both but i’m gonna start an argument with the professor over the origin of tangerines for no apparent reason

-*googles* how to permanently get rid of my fe in 5 simple steps

-follow my meme page xd

-so what if i love my dog more than i do myself and my entire family?

-this conversation is boring me i’m gonna go chug a bottle of vodka and binge bill nye the science guy™ peace out

-have low self-esteems but compensate through obscure dark web conspiracy theories at 3 in the morning

-shirley i didn’t call you back because you’re a fake ass bitch not because i didn’t like your lasagna at the block party

estp:

-why do i keep physically abusing my crush lol

-and why do i keep yelling i can’t even stop at this point someone please send help

-they love food more than they do themselves

-fuckboys™

-hi welcome to my prank youtube channel :3

-the type of people to show up to school with 37 puppies and a knife

-i’m not gay but 20 bucks is 20 bucks

entj:

-sorry i didn’t show up to school because you’re fucking stupid

-awe infp is so cute <3 i’ll destroy them last

-*on the floor, drunk, talking to their dog* you’re the only motherfucker in this town who can handle me

-what do you mean other people’s opinions/beliefs besides my own are valid lol??

-lowkey have daddy kinks

-what do you mean it’s physically impossible for me to control every aspect of my life??

-i mean if you really think about it voldemort was the victim,

-the type of person who could tell their crush they like them without flinching. terrifying

istp:

-wears d.a.r.e shirts ironically

-1990’s grunge aesthetic

-would walk into a burning building for the meme

-playing the hero?? haha never heard of it :))

-ew what the fuck man get those feelings away from me lol

-fuck da police

-following the rules?? that seems excessive lmao no thanks

istj:

-i once had one (1) original idea back in the summer of ’67. it was terrifying. i’ll never do it again.

-your scary math teacher that wears black socks everyday expects friday. then they jazz it up a bit with stripes. will mark your grade up if you say you like the same sports team as they do.

-understanding concepts outside of your own experiences? lmao no thanks?

-will make quizlet sets organize your desk for you

-my dream in life is to narrate a crime documentary and complete my george washington memorabilia collection.

-remembers all of their colleagues birthdays. doesn’t say happy birthday.

enfj:

-fucking get over your ex already he wasn’t that attractive calm down allison

-*googles* why do i relate to regina george from mean girls so much?

-the type of person who tells your boyfriend you have a crush on him

-o v e r d r a m a t i c

-gets your shit together for you. judges you

intp:

-dead inside

-if you can manage to find one that actually tolerates you they are some of the most loyal and true people you’ll ever meet

-horrible social skills, compensates through meme hoarding

-sends you links to conspiracy theory videos when you’re sad

-extremely intelligent but they get lost in their own house

-whoops i just remember i haven’t showered in 3 weeks lol

-i would laugh at that joke but i’m 3 hours deep into an existential crisis and i’m 100% convinced you are actually a robot created by bill clinton so not today jeff

esfp:

-yes homo

-cries over cat videos in public

-facetimes you in a grasshopper fursuit at 3 in the morning

-probably an alcoholic

-has 87 different crushes at once

-you haven’t talked to them in 7 years but they’ll show up at your birthday party and give you dog

-also attention whores

-generally has the personality of someone who just did 10 lines of cocaine

isfj:

-one sec let me just gather up all of the fake empathy i can muster for this particular situation

-that one kid in class who always has perfect notes

-shudders at the thought of… a… creative… thought….

-falls in love with an estp approximately every 23 seconds

-hi i’m karen, i’m 34, i love my family, cupcake baking, helping people of course until it interferes with my own personal comfort haha, christmas decorations, room layouts,

-probably has a studyblr

estj:

-your angry boss

-probably cyberbullies children on the internet 

-has an emotional breakdown when they don’t win classroom jeopardy 

-*googles* who is bernie sanders and why do i want him dead

-organizes your shit for you, regrets it later

-dead inside

So I finally went through omgeverythingplease and here are things that I didn’t know
  • Bitty is OBSESSED with food. OBSESSED.
  • Boy has a *problem*
  • Like I know we like to headcanon that Bitty goes into some sort of media, but he’s more likely to become a food critic. Basically he’s more into the “baking” part of “baking vlog” than the “vlog” part.
  • Holster is a grumpy messy bitch.
  • For real, the team seriously debated who was grumpier: Jack or Holster
  • (for like, a hot second, before the answer became obvious)
  • (It’s Jack. Jack is the grumpiest)
  • Ransom and Bitty are very close friends. Close enough that Bitty chirps Holster that he’s being replaced via tweet.
  • Ransom and Bitty get PSLs from “ ‘Bucks”.
  • That is a quote. Eric Richard Bittle has called Starbucks, ‘Bucks.
  • (I bet he calls Target, Tar-zhay too)
  • This one was a bit more analytical: we found out about Jack coaching peewee via Bitty’s twitter
  • Bitty is the one who tells us that the Jack says the kids call him “Coach Z”
  • Because Bitty is the one who typed out the tweet, if the kids called Jack “Coach Zed”, he would have spelled out “Zed.”
  • Therefore we can assume that the kids called Jack “Coach Zee” and not “Coach Zed”
  • However this revelation by Jack was immediately followed by a debate over Zee vs. Zed. So who really knows?
  • I still don’t know how either of them pronounces “pecan”
  • More after the cut because this is getting long

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On February 1st John wakes up to find that Sherlock’s half of the bed is empty, and on his pillow is a single lavender rose.  He smiles softly, picks it up, and presses his nose into the petals.

The following day John finds two of the same flower, their stems cut quite short, waiting for him in his favorite mug when he goes to make tea.  He doesn’t ask Sherlock about it yet, and Sherlock acts as if nothing is different.

On February 3rd there are three lavender roses waiting for John.  One is resting in his left shoe; another is tucked inside his jacket pocket; the third he finds on the doorknob when he’s on his way out.  He puts them on his desk at work and thinks about texting Sherlock for an explanation.  But he doesn’t.  Not yet.

Four roses find their way onto the mantlepiece.

Five are found nestled in John’s chair late in the evening on February 5th.

Six are discovered the following morning, wrapped neatly together with ribbon, in the refrigerator.  Still, neither of them say a word.

It isn’t until the 7th of February–when John finds seven lavender roses, cut from their stems, floating in a bowl of water on the kitchen table–that John’s curiosity gets the better of him.  He’s not much for computers, but he knows how to use google at least.  The results make his head feel light.

Eight roses decorate the sitting room in various spots.

Nine are placed into various beakers and tubes.

Ten litter the surface of the sofa all day on February 10th.  They avoid sitting there all day, but neither of them mentions it.

On February 11th there are eleven roses lining the doorframe of Baker Street.

The 12th brings a bouquet to John’s office where he switches them out for the three that have begun to wilt but that he was unwilling to remove.

Thirteen roses hang from the ceiling of their bedroom the following day.  John isn’t quite sure how Sherlock managed that without waking him, but he lays there for almost half an hour, just watching them sway back and forth.

John comes home from work on the 14th of February and finds lavender rose petals scattered up and down the seventeen steps of 221B.  If he had to guess he would say there were enough petals for fourteen roses.  His chest constricts, and he takes the steps slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He expects to find Sherlock waiting for him, but when he reaches the top he finds the door to the sitting room closed, a note taped to it.  Sherlock’s untidy scrawl reads, You know where to find me.

And John does.  He’s back down the stairs and out the door in seconds, and for once it seems he’s got Sherlock’s luck on his side as a taxi rolls to a stop when he flings out his hand.

The lab at St. Bart’s hasn’t changed much since the day they met, and it’s a bit like walking into the past when John pushes the door open to find Sherlock waiting for him in the same exact spot he had been when John had first seen him.  Only this time John isn’t limping.  And this time Sherlock is holding a single lavender rose instead of a pipette, and his gaze is soft and warm as it settles on John.

“Knew you’d get it,” he says, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

John walks toward him, taking his time even though his heart is pounding.  It’s ridiculous, he thinks, because they’ve been together for months now.  “I’m smarter than I look,” he says, unable to keep from smiling in return.  He stops about a foot away, nodding toward the rose in Sherlock’s hand.  “Isn’t that cheating?”

Sherlock shakes his head.  “You see, but you do not observe,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  He steps closer, holding the flower up between them.  “There were only thirteen on the steps.  This is number fourteen.”

John steps closer and reaches out to touch the petals, letting his hand slip down until his fingers ghost over Sherlock’s.  “I looked it up, you know. Lavender rose.”

“I know,” Sherlock says, his smile widening.  “On the seventh.  I was surprised you held out for so long.”

John can’t help laughing.  “I’m not even going to ask how you knew.”  

He plucks the rose from Sherlock’s fingers and sets it gingerly on the counter beside them, removing the delicate barrier between them so that he can step into Sherlock’s space and draw him down for a soft, slow kiss.  Sherlock’s hands cup his face, his thumbs stroking along the sharp edges of his jaw, and John clings to fistfuls of Sherlock’s shirt at his waist.

When he pulls away it’s only enough so that he can speak, and his lips brush Sherlock’s with every word.  “Love at first sight,” he whispers, and he frees one hand to touch the petals of the lavender rose beside them.  “And you always said I was the romantic.”

Sherlock kisses him again, lingering for a long, sweet moment.  “I thought you should know the truth.  The whole of it.  How long I’ve loved you.”

Something in John’s chest aches, and he spends long, drawn-out moments pressing his lips to Sherlock’s, murmuring his I love yous into his mouth, hoping that it will be enough, that Sherlock will understand that he’s been loved since the moment John saw him in this very lab so many years ago.


Later that night–after Sherlock has led them home, after John has pressed him against the sheets, after countless kisses and touches and soft, pleading words–later, they sit together in front of the fire, half-clothed, legs tangled together, and press the single lavender rose in between the pages of a heavy book.  And when they’ve finished, John takes Sherlock by the hand and leads him back to bed.

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

Unbearable || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request:  Could you write an imagine where the reader is Tony Stark’s daughter and is dating Peter Parker and something happens between them, either like assuming the other one cheated and idk one or the other is hurt and idk i wonder what the situation would end up being like? Thank you!

Word Count: 1752 words

Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark

(i think I’ve used this gif before but there aren’t many left)

For a couple of weeks now, Y/N has noticed how her boyfriend, Peter, has been getting closer and closer to her best friend Liz. He used to always eat lunch with Y/N and sit next to her in classes. Now, he’s doing that with the perfect Liz Allen. Sometimes, the young girl thought that Peter was dating her for her last name. Stark. Y/N wasn’t jealous of her friend, just envious of the attention she was getting from Peter. Y/N wanted to get closer to her boyfriend again, and she didn’t know what to do.

One day when she went over to Peter’s house, he was being awfully distant. Y/N knew about his alter ego Spider-Man because his relationship with her dad. She knew that was part of the reason why he was bailing on dates but, he would always try to make time with Y/N at least three times a week. That all changed the day he started hanging out with Liz more. The couple only hang out once a week now. So, while she sat on his bed, all she could think about was how he was most likely cheating on her.

“Peter?” She asked quietly. He was on his phone, by his desk, barely paying attention to the girl who was breaking inside. “Hm?” He muttered, smiling at his phone. He tapped the screen lightly to, what Y/N could gather, text someone back.

“Who are you texting?” She asked softly again, looking down at her legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Peter stuttered, “It’s n-no one.” He put his phone down to give his girlfriend his full undivided attention.

“We need to talk Peter.” She forced out, looking him in the eye. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” He chuckled at his own statement.

“I mean about us Peter!” Y/N said, angrier than before. This surprised Peter. She was never normally…. angry. Y/N exhaled, trying to keep her cool.

“W-What about us?” He stuttered, “I thought we were doing fine.”

“You’ve been ditching me Peter but, not to protect the city. To hang out with my best friend. And don’t try to deny it cause I see pictures of you guys on her Snapchat all the time.” She sniffled. Peter sighed, “Y/N,” he said shaking his head slightly, standing up to go sit next to her. Before he could complete his statement, she interrupted, “Are you cheating on me with Liz?” She asked.

He shook his head yet again, grabbing her face with both of his hands, turning her towards his. “No, it’s…..it’s not like that.” Y/N got out of his grasp by standing up. Tears started to escape her eyes.  

“Then what’s it like Peter?” She demanded, crossing his arms. Peter sat there on his bed, trying to think of an answer. “It’s just,” he couldn’t continue. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s just what?” Y/N questioned, getting loud again. Peter looked at his hands.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Y/N.” He couldn’t tell her his plan. Not yet. She’ll forgive me though, he thought. She scoffed, uncrossing her arms to grab her stuff. Before she left his bedroom, she turned to look at him. “You know what Peter,” she scoffed, “Liz is all your’s now.” she spat, slamming his bedroom door.

Y/N scurried towards the front door of the apartment. May was sitting on the couch, watching the girl leave. She smiled sadly, “Bye May,” she opened the door but stopped at the sound of his voice. “Y/N,” He said from across the room with a sad look on his face. “Goodbye, Peter.” She slammed the door not looking back.

School the next day was awful for both Peter and Y/N. Peter had no girlfriend to constantly boast about and Y/N had no one to kiss or greet by her locker in the morning. At lunch, Y/N sat with Liz, not saying anything to her with her friends not speaking as well. Liz broke the silence, “I heard you and Peter broke up.“She said sympathetically. Y/N scoffed, “Let me guess, he told you? Did he tell you why?” Liz nodded her head, “He isn’t cheating on you Y/N.” She said looking at the girl honestly.

“Well obviously he isn’t cause we aren’t together, which means he can date anyone he wants. Including you.” Y/N said, grabbing her lunch and moving to sit somewhere away from Liz, and away from Peter. He saw Y/N stand up, angrily and move away from her best friend. This was all his fault.

Later that day, when Peter arrived at the Avengers tower, Tony was furious. Tony walked with Peter into his lab, grabbing the boy by the color of his shirt viciously. “I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why you cheated on my little girl.” He said with venom lacing his voice.

“That’s not what happened, Mr. Stark. I swear.” Peter expressed with a worried tone.. Tony let go of his collar glaring at him. “Then why has Y/N been crying her eyes out?”

Peter rubbed his face with his hands wanting all of this to just blow over. He hated the fact that it was HIS fault as to why the love of his life wasn’t smiling. “Liz was helping me with something…” Peter trailed off, making the genius confused. “Is that a euphemism for sex or something?” Tony grimaced.

“No! No, oh god no. Nothing like that.” Peter said in shock and slight disgust. “What was it then?” Tony crossed his arms, just like Y/N did last night.

Peter sighed, “Liz is Y/N’s best friend so I went to her for advice.”

“For what?” Tony asked, less agitated at the young superhero standing in front of him. Peter looked at his shoes while bouncing on his feet. “I needed help for asking your daughter to Homecoming, so I thought, who knows her better than she knows herself and I thought Liz. That’s all we were doing Mr. Stark.” He said sadly, realizing that all the help he was getting didn’t matter because he wasn’t with his girl anymore.

Tony was still confused, “Couldn’t you have Googled ideas?” He asked,knowing now that it was all a misunderstanding between the juvenile lovers. Peter shook his head.

“It’s not that easy Mr. Stark. I thought maybe Y/N wanted a subtle way to be asked to the dance. But what if she wanted something completely extraordinary. That’s why I went to Liz. But I wasn’t with her constantly. I was with her handful of lunch periods, and we went to Starbucks to talk about it once. Only once.” He explained. Dropping his backpack on the floor.

“How do you plan on asking her?” Tony questioned walking around his lab.

“We’re not together anymore…..” Peter said as if Tony wasn’t listening to the conversation, following the man around the lab. Tony turned around to face Peter. “I don’t care, You were good for her. And I don’t want her dating some idiot. Now, how are you going to ask her?” He questioned Peter yet again.Peter had a big smile on his face, ready to tell him.

That night, there was a knock on Y/N’s window. It wasn’t too late at night, but she knew exactly who it was. “Go away.” She said, loud enough for him to hear her through the window. He tapped on the glass again, “Go away!” She said slightly louder. The tapping continued much to her dismay. Y/N groaned and got up off of her bed to open the window.

She looked through the glass to see Peter Parker, or Spider-Man, hanging upside down on a web, holding a huge teddy bear and roses in one hand with a poster in the other that said, “It would be unBEARable to go to Homecoming without you” in red letters. Y/N froze, looking at him with wide eyes. He flipped over and let go of the webbing.

She opened the window, helping the boy through it and into her room. “Peter, what the hell? We aren’t a thing anymore, remember?” She said a bit agitated. Peter put the poster down, grabbing his mask off of his face, shaking his head to fix his hair. “I swear that I didn’t cheat on you with Liz, alright? She was just helping me with ideas to ask you to Homecoming.” Peter admitted, wanting her to know the truth. Y/N had a more understanding look in her eyes.

“Then why were you bailing on all of our dates?” She asked.

“Crime rates have gone up in New York, despite everyone’s effort to stop it. Trust me, I wanted to go on those dates with you, it’s just- someone needs to be there for the city after the whole hero versus hero thing.” He rushed. “Please, you have to believe me.” He said sadly.

Y/N ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m such an asshole,” the girl in his arms mumbled against his shoulder, “I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry.” Peter rubbed one hand on her back reassuringly holding his gifts for her in the other. “There’s no need to apologize. I would’ve done the same thing though.” He stated honestly. The two pulled away from each other.

Peter moved to pick up the poster to show her again. He had a cheesy grin on his face as he held everything. “Will you go to homecoming with me?” He asked. Y/N nodded her head, “Of course I will.”

Peter went to hand her the teddy bear and the roses. “You know what you should name him?“ Peter asked rhetorically. “What?” She asked with a smile on her face, smelling the flowers.

“Spider-Man.” He said with a smirk on his face, “So that I’m always with you.” Y/N chuckled, examining the bear. “I think it suits him.” She mimicked his smirk, leaning in to kiss the real Spider-Man

instant gratification 03 (m)

Originally posted by bangtan7beyondthescene

➾10.8k 

➾ smut, angst, fluff

➾the final part of this series, please read the first three parts if you haven’t!

instant gratification 01 | 02 | 2.5


It’s like time has slowed to an ambling crawl, and all that ever exists has ceased to matter; except in this room with the three of you standing, facing each other like fighters in a ring. All you’re aware of is the way your breath has frozen over in your chest, and the way Jeongguk is clutching something so tightly in his hand, mirroring your own fisted palm.

“Jeongguk, no,” the sound of your voice pierces through the tense atmosphere, and is that really your voice? Why does it sound so unconvincing, so lacking in resolve, so broken? You clear your throat and attempt to try again, because your eyes are locked on Jeongguk’s own milky caramel ones, filled with a murky rage that threatens to break past the surface. “Jeongguk, this is not what it looks like, I swear-“

He only responds with an acerbic laugh that’s short and cutting, and it makes every breath you take feel razor sharp.

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Chem Miss

Author: @kpopfanfictrash as part of Bangtan University - a series of ongoing one shots with @eradikeats-writes

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys (her moodboards for the series are perfection)

Pairing: Reader / Jimin

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex, dirty talk)

Word Count: 12,807

Summary: “You’re my TA. I’m in your class. I’m sure you don’t want to spend your Saturday night talking to me about biochem.”

Jimin appears amused by this. “Who’s to say that I don’t? Also,” he leans in, a slight smile on his lips. “Who says we have to talk about Chemistry?”

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The Void Inside Me (NSFW 18+)

A/N: This idea was sprouted by one of those ads we’re the two people are texting about something really agnsty or suspenseful and you have to download the app to see the whole story. I loved the idea so much and thought no one would be more suited for it than Void. I want to thank @writing-obrien for seriously helping me out with this when I was completely stumped. Also @celestial-writing because this fic would not be finished if it weren’t for her motivating me to push through up until the very end. And @sarcasticallystilinski too for all her feedback. I think they all edited this at some point too so thank you beautiful babes, I love you all more than most. Lastly, Koneko is Japanese for kitten so says google translater. I’m sorry if I got that wrong.

Warnings: Smut; choking.

Word Count: 6860

|Masterlist|

Originally posted by teendeucalion

Keep reading

Surprise!

Summary: The reader wakes up to surprising news about her and Jensen.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

A/N: I got a random idea so here’s a random drabble.


“Y/N L/N! Get your ass up!”

A high pitched shrill invades your dream world as incessant curse words begin littering the air. A blinding light appears and it makes you bury your head under the warm covers.

You’re still able to hear muffled growling noises and they become clearer once your sheets are abruptly yanked off. It’s safe to say that an impressive death stare overtakes your entire face.

“Y/N!” Your best friend Steph huffs. “Don’t make me chuck water onto your head!”

“What the fuck.” You moan lowly, snatching your pillow away when she tries to steal it from you. “You psychopath.“ 

"I’m so mad at you right now. How come you didn’t tell me, woman?!” Her bratty behavior continues when her high heeled boot stomps into your hardwood floor.

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ao3 link


Yuuri is in the kitchen when he hears Victor call it out in question. They had just finished up supper and Victor had cooked so Yuuri was in the kitchen washing up the dishes to return the favor. And he’s just standing by the dishwasher, humming idly and wondering if Victor has picked out a movie for them to watch or if tonight is going to be a night where they watch game shows featuring Victor yelling out the answers that can actually be correct on occasion. It had been a long day at the rink and Yuuri even wonders if maybe they’ll have a nice glass of wine before bed.

So, Yuuri is just minding his own business, not thinking twice when Victor calls out his name. He hums back, expecting a question or statement about leftovers but then…

“What’s yaoi?”

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anonymous asked:

Soulmate AU where your soulmark doesn't only symbolise your soulmate, but also how you'll realise that they are your soulmate. (because unlike the romace novels it isn't always "bond" at first sight, sometimes it takes YEARS to discover what was there all along). Now imagine Stiles so obsessed with his very-much everlasting state of virginity because of his bite mark on his chest and HELLO what else could that mean. (part 2 in the next ask)

Part 2: Or imagine derek trying everything to get rid of his mark, because the bullet shaped mark was the reason his young naive self approached the argents, and KATE, in the first place. And we all know how that went.

The water was cold as it splashed on his face – cold and refreshing – and his hands stayed pressed against his face for a long minute, his eyes closed and a tired sigh leaving him. Slowly, Derek dropped his hands from his face and grabbed the edges of the sink. He hesitated before finally lifting his gaze to the mirror in front of him.

His eyes, blank with a hint of sadness and bags heavy underneath them, found the bullet shaped mark slightly to the left of the center of his chest immediately.

Derek had been five when his mom had sat him down and told him about soulmates and soulmarks for the first time. And because of his soulmark, it had also been when he was told of hunters and how he needed to be careful. More careful than any of his siblings and any of his friends.

He had been five and hadn’t listened. He hadn’t listened when he was thirteen either, nor when he was sixteen and approached the woman he thought he was his soulmate.

It had been years – long and painful years – and he had yet to forgive himself for that. He doubted he ever would,and looking at his soulmark made him feel sick to his stomach.

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I Like You [Min Yoongi]

Warning: Contains smut. Do not read if you are underage.

A/N: This is very, very long. Grab a coffee, sit back and enjoy. Thank you to @katythekitty for your suggestions with the plot. I guess in a way this is kind of your requests? Idk. 


‘Y/n?’ Yoongi’s voice questions softly as you stretch across the floor of the dorm, arms reaching above your head to get into that tight spot in your lower back. His foot pokes out from his position on the low couch, gently nudging your thigh to roll you slightly on your side.

‘Mmm?’ You respond, the sleepy tone in your voice giving away the true nature of your state. The few cans of beer were sitting heavily in your stomach, a beverage that since your college days had always had you yawning before the night was over. Lazily, you flop on your side, scooting across the wooden panelled floors.

‘I was just checking you were still awake. It’s 2am and the movie finished. Want me to flag a taxi for you?’ You let out a slow whine, body wrapping around his feet to clutch his ankles tightly.

‘Why, you don’t want to hang out with me?,’ You pout, clinging to his legs like a small, fluffy koala. You could almost feel his body tense under your touch, an audible breath hissing through his teeth as your arms claw their way up his black denim jeans. ‘C’mon, Yoongyoong. I thought we were having fun. We are only two movies into this Harry Potter marathon… We’ve still got another 6 to go. Where’s your stamina?’ Your hands reach up to tickle behind his knees, before sitting upwards to envelop the entire lower half of his leg into a hug.

‘Fuck… you’re weird.’ His face was still flat, expression blank as he watches you crawl your way up his body, coming to sit comfortably next to him, lounging into the comfort of the soft black fabric of the long hoodie he had chosen to wear. Instinctively, your hands wrap around his waist, head placing itself in the crook between his shoulder and arm.

‘You love it, though, right?’ It takes a second, his body heaving with a deep sigh - the air of which dusts lightly across the crown of your head - before you feel his arm drop, grasping your shoulder and pulling you a little closer to him.

‘Not really.’ He responds just as flatly, a flicker of a smile lacing across his face so briefly you you wouldn’t have seen it if you weren’t trained in finding it. It’s the only evidence you have of what he was really saying.

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SIX FEET UNDER | SugarDaddy!Seb x Reader

Originally posted by calif0rnia-lovers

Masterlist

A/N: Okay ya’ll there is at least going to have to be a part 2 to this because it’s getting so long. I’ve had this idea brewing for a while, so let me know what you think! (And watch for part 2 later this week)


You stepped out of the elevator, your bright lapis blue suede high heels clicking softly with each step. You were wearing the usual on top – a fitted black dress, as was dress code. Today, your dress had triangular shaped mesh cut outs. Might as well go out with a bang, you thought whilst dressing yourself this morning. Your gold necklace continued to bounce with each step you took as you approached the corner that would take you directly past the boss’s office.

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Je T’aime

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You have a huge crush on Peter. You know he doesn’t know French as well as Spanish, so you randomly flirt with him in French. Until Peter catches on.

I try to keep these as gender neutral, I’m sorry. French is very specific with masc. and fem. words, I tried.

(This is my first one, it’s short and sucks, sorry. Btw I am taking French, and I’m terrible at it so I used Google Translate. If you notice something totally off and want me to fix it, please let me know.)


     You grabbed your backup, pushing past students towards the cafeteria. Please, walk slower, it’s not like people have places to go, you thought angrily. You pushed open the lunch doors, looking around for your friends. You made eye contact with Peter from across the room, quickly smiling and waving at him. Peter smiled back and waved you over. Butterflies filled your stomach, making your face feel warm. Why is he so amazing? 

      “Hey Y/N!” Ned cheered when you sat down.

      You smiled at Ned, “What’s up guys? Anything new?”

       “Well, we have a math test next period. I hope you studied,” Peter answered.

     “Of course I did, beau garçon.” You winked in his direction, causing his face to turn a soft shade of pink. Handsome boy

    MJ snorted next to you, not even looking up from her book.

    “You know, I may not understand French, but one day I’m going to find out what you’re saying.” Peter promised.

     You shrugged, laughing. You highly doubt Peter would spend five minutes looking up the words you’ve said. Especially when he spends all of his time at that Stark Internship.  

    The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. You packed your stuff up, before turning towards the boys, “Au revoir Ned. Au revoir, ma lune.” Goodbye Ned. Goodbye, my moon.

    Peter furrowed his eyebrows, watching you walk away with MJ. “Do you know what she said? Isn’t Spanish similar to French?” It drove him nuts not understanding what you’re saying. Sometimes he think you’re flirting with him, but he doesn’t want his hopes to get too high.

    Ned shrugged, “Doesn’t May know some French? Ask her.”

    Peter faltered his walking for a second, May knows how much he likes you, but does he really want her to be involve with it? “Yeah, okay I’ll ask when I get home.”


     The next day, you walked with MJ towards the steps of the school, talking about your science project due next class.

     “Whatever, I had it done for two weeks. But the real question is, when are you going to tell Peter you like him?” MJ casually slipped out.

     “I already did, like everyday. Not my fault he doesn’t understand me.”

     “You know he’s smart, but he’s oblivious. You call him handsome, love, moon, and you told him you loved him in French! He’s also taking Spanish, I don’t understand how he doesn’t get it.”

    “Wait, you know French? Since when? You’re not in my class.”

    “Maybe I am, you just don’t see me,” she blankly stared ahead, walking faster. 

     Shaking your head in confusion, you followed her to the doors, walking after her. Spotting Ned and Peter at their lockers, you both walked up to them. When you got closer, they glanced towards you, their conversation quickly stopping.

     MJ rolled her eyes, “No please continue your nerdy conversation. We totally care about what you have to say.”

     You elbowed MJ lightly, “Tais-toi.” Shut up. You turned towards Peter and Ned, “Salut les gars. J'aime ta chemise, Ned. Peter, tu es très beau comme toujours.” Hi guys. I love your shirt, Ned. Peter, you are handsome as always.

    Ned smiled brightly, glancing down at his shirt. While, Peter’s face turned red, he tried to cough to cover up his anxiety. Confused, you panicked for a second. They usually didn’t react, or paid attention to what you say in French.

   MJ seemed to get it, though, “Ned, they’re selling ice cream for free at the stand. Let’s go.”

   Ned looked at her, “They don’t sell ice cream here.”

   “Woah, it’s a miracle. Let’s go.” Dragging Ned away, MJ glared at you like a warning glance.

    You turned back to Peter confused, “Um, what was that?”

    He was  nervously playing with his fingers, blushing a deep red. He glanced up at you, down at his hands, and back up, holding eye contact. “I was curious about the things you’ve been saying to me. So, I asked- I asked May about some of the words you told me.”

    He didn’t actually asked May, she barely remembers how to say hello in French. He asked Pepper while he facetime Tony, Pepper being more than happy to help him out. Tony wouldn’t stop teasing him over his crush, but it’s one hundred percent worth it if you felt the same.

    Your heart loudly pumped in your chest, he knows I’ve been flirting with him, it’s all over.

     “You love saying how handsome I am,” Peter smiled widely at you. You groaned, burying your face in your hands. You were doing so well, why did he have to find out?

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually look it up. I’ll stop, I was just trying to practice French,” you mumbled, making up some excuse. 

    “No, please continue. I actually learned something in French, ‘Tu es belle, et j'adorerais être ton petit ami’.” You are beautiful, and I would love to be your boyfriend. That’s what Pepper told me to say, right?

     You stared at him for a second in shock, before laughing. His accent clashed with the french language, but you understood what he was saying. 

   “Je serai ton/ta petit(e) ami(e),” you couldn’t stop smiling, taking a step towards him. I would love to be your boyfriend/girlfriend.

    “I’m assuming you said yes in French,” Peter mumbled, leaning towards you, tilting his head slightly. His eyes wide, feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

    “Oui,” you whispered, meeting him half way, pressing your lips against his. YesMaybe I’ll speak more French to him.

I think I took my old company down over a $240 dispute.

I’m honestly not sure if this belongs here, or in @petty-revenge-stories, but I thought you guys might get a bit of a chuckle over this.

Sorry, it’s long.

I was the lead editor for a production house. We did mostly commercials, for radio and television. Small company, but we did pretty well for the most part, but being a small company jobs overlapped, and since I know how to use Google, I also became the “IT” guy.

I worked at this production house for 8 years. Overall, I was pretty content there. I made some awesome friends, but my boss (the owner / production manager) was a real dick. He was the kind of guy who would hire people for as little money as possible, and get them to work 12-16 hour days for the fucking experience.

My boss was the kind of person who would tell you on a daily basis how great a boss he was; how effective a leader he was. Every day wasting his time and money on ridiculous meetings that literally took half a day and consisted of nothing meaningful, but a huge amount of head-inflation. He would routinely deny people any kind of monetary raise, even after years of experience, saying that the company could not afford that. All while he furnished his private office, which was an entire floor above the rest of the office space, with extravagant furniture and expensive decorations.

I could honestly make an entire post on how awful a boss / terrible a person this guy was, so after some quick reflection on how much typing I want to do today, here’s a list of the worst things he was doing on company time:

  • Drinking and driving
  • Would routinely get me to pirate software for him, including software we used to actually run the business
  • Not putting anyone on payroll, which means you are forever a “freelancer” at this company
  • Hired a company who would build an entire second story to the office without a permit
  • Somehow crossing the Canada-US border drunk and with open alcohol
  • Withholding people’s pay
  • Buying things for the office; stealing them for his home
  • No vacation time / pay
  • he expected all of us to either work through a client’s funeral, or take a couple of hours as “no pay leave”)
  • He would degrade all employees, but he was way more harsh on the female employees
  • Would literally scare people into submission
  • Micromanage everything. Blame employees for following directions.

Anyways the list goes on and on. But for the most part, non of this really affected me, until his wife started working for the company.

She was hired on after being fired elsewhere, as our accountant. She would track our hours every day, making sure to conveniently neglect any extra time we put in over weekends, or after hours. Somehow, even after working a 50-60 hour week, she would come after employees saying they were only available for 30 hour or so. Again, these were all things that never really affected me, until Christmas 2015.

I got notice two days before our Christmas paycheck, via email, that the accountant was going to take $240 or so off my regular pay, because I had left the office for two hours during the week. I calmly replied to the email that we all gotta do what we gotta do, and hopped online and started applying to editing jobs elsewhere.

I told my wife about this, and got irrationally mad about it.

Nearly instantly, I was offered a job from my current employer, which I accepted. At that point I told my wife I give my old employer a year before they close down.

We made a list, and dealt with each item to the best of our abilities.

I anonymously reported both my boss and his wife for drunk driving, as well as letting a couple of my cop buddies know about it. On my boss’ Facebook page, he was complaining about how many times he had been pulled over recently. He seems to still be driving, but at least it was an inconvenience to them.

I reported the software piracy. The pirated software was Windows, Microsoft Office, and the Adobe Creative Suite. Adobe didn’t do anything, but Microsoft took it pretty seriously, and I heard from one of my old coworkers that they didn’t fight the fines.

I also filled out form CPT1-E (I think that’s what it was called), which is designed to help employers and employees understand whether or not employees should be on payroll or not. From what I gather through the grapevine, this let to something called a forensic audit, which seems to have led to a lot of back payments or something. I’m not an accountant, and I don’t really know how all this works, but from what I understand my old employer ended up paying quite a few fines. This is all unconfirmed grapevine stuff though.

I reported locally regarding the floor that was built without a permit. More grapevine stuff, but it seems that made selling the office a little more difficult. So I’ll add that to the win pile.

So anyways, I was wrong. I told my wife it would be a year and they would be shut down. It took a year and 3 months. The company is officially closing March 31, 2017. I don’t know if any of my actions are directly responsible for the closure, but I’d like to think I at least pushed it in that direction.

Vampire!BTS Reaction to: Being So Hungry That They Accidentally Bite You

Hey! So I just stumbled upon your blog through a quick Google search of “vampire bts x reader” and I fell in love with your vampire!au about the guys biting reader. I was wondering if you could do one where BTS accidentally bites you because they’ve gone a long while without feeding? They haven’t fed in so long because they feel guilty about feeding on humans while they’re dating one. If it isn’t too much, can you make a reaction from BTS and reader’s point of view? Thank you so much!


Jin: Would be the first to stop feeding on humans. The second he starts to form a crush on you, he transitions over to animals. Which is difficult, for a “foodie” like Seokjin. He was well known for only feeding off the most succulent of humans and in comparison, animals are so … bland and boring. It won’t take long until he looses control of his hunger, especially with you around. Your scent drives him insane, until he can’t hold back anymore. He’ll pounce randomly, when you weren’t expecting it. You hadn’t realized how much he was struggling with an animal diet, until you’re pinned to the wall, his teeth sinking into your neck. He’s too strong to fight off and you genuinely think you would have died that day, if it weren’t for Namjoon who pulled him off.

Ashamed, Jin avoids you for a week until you eventually corner him.

“I’m not disgusted by you, Seokjin. I know the diet must be hard for you. You don’t have to stop feeding from humans. I won’t love you any less for it.”

Now that he’s tasted the finest dish in the world, he can’t go back to basic blood. “Can I have a taste of you instead?” he wonders. A drop of you far outweighs the bland blood of hundreds.

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Suga: Didn’t even want to stop feeding on humans to begin with; food is food. That’s all humans are to vampires. But if it made you feel safer, he’ll stop. And the hunger, coupled with how he never even wanted this diet, make him snap. But not fully. He feeds from you, taking enough to make you dizzy, but not threaten your life. He pulls away, a drop of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“I thought … that you were gonna kill me,” you shudder.

He smirks. “How could I kill my favourite dessert?” You were his favourite meal but since he’d starved himself so long, a taste of dessert simply isn’t enough. “I’m going out to find some dinner. Don’t wait up - I might be having seconds.”

Originally posted by yoonseok

J-Hope: You didn’t even realize how hungry he was. Hoseok was good at hiding his real feelings, to ensure the happiness of others. So when he snaps, you know he must have been hurting. You don’t fight him as he drinks from you, lovingly stroking his head instead.

“You were hungry, right? I’m sorry that you felt you needed to starve. Make sure you eat properly from now, even if it’s from humans. I don’t want you to suffer like this,” you tell him.

He pulls away, gasping for air. “I was so, so hungry. Every second of your scent was driving me crazy. I’m sorry I snapped.” He pressed a bloody kiss to your lips. “Thank you for still loving me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going out to hunt.”

Originally posted by mn-yg

Rap Monster: You can tell that he’s about to break. He had been snapping at you this past week, even if you do nothing wrong. He makes you wear scarves or turtlenecks. And the darkness of his eyes is turning a bright red.

“Joonie?” you ask, pulling off your scarf. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? There’s no need to hide it from me. You can feed from me if you want.” He had gone on the diet to keep him “clean.” He wanted no one else’s blood inside of him, to sink his teeth into no one, but you. So he refused; “No, I’m fine, baby. I don’t need blood - I’m strong enough to resist.”

But two hours later, he surprises you by pouncing and harshly biting you. The pain makes you gasp but he doesn’t care. All he wants is your blood. He drinks until your heart slows down, making him realize just how much he had taken. Pulling away, he apologizes.

“I think you’re right … I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I’m going to feed from now on. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Originally posted by bangtanboys-official

Jimin: His personality had been different this past month. He’d been keeping to himself, pouting and staring into space. He swears nothing’s wrong. And you sort of believe him until you’re jumped one morning, pinned down as Jimin bites into your neck.

He doesn’t feed much, just enough to wet his palette. He knows he needs to hunt, but hadn’t wanted to do so while hungry. His mother told him never to shop on an empty stomach. “Sorry about that, I couldn’t help myself.” You understand that the diet must have been hard for him, but shock keeps you from talking. All you can do is nod. He tenderly kisses the bite mark. “I’m going out to feed. Then I’ll be back, to punish you for putting me on this stupid diet to begin with.”

Originally posted by chimchams

V: The intensity of his gaze confuses you. He’s not your Taehyung anymore, he’s the monster he always warned you he was, but you never believed in. The cute boy was gone and only a hungry beast was left. He snapped, throwing you down, first biting your shoulder. Then your neck. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to feed from, where he wanted to taste you. Afraid for your life, you started to cry. Your tears brought Taehyung back, your Tae, not this monster. And he sits back with big doe eyes, looking sorrowful.

“I’m so sorry. I - I was so hungry and - “

“It’s okay,” you sniffle. “Vampires need to feed, right? Next time, don’t torture yourself like this. You can feed if you’re hungry, okay?”

He had agreed to stop feeding from humans because he thought he could. The thought of hurting one of your kind had been awful. But now his opinion had changed. Lions need to feed, no matter how cute the lamb is.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jungkook: Hadn’t bought into the “vegetarian diet” at all. Vampires fed off humans, that was that. Although he loved you, as long as you were safe, he didn’t care for other humans. But if it made you happy, he would try. Out of stubbornness, he lasts the longest. He refuses to admit defeat until loosing control one day, accidentally biting and nearly killing you.

“I think … I should stop this diet.”

He’ll go clear his head and feed. When he returns, he’ll apologize for his behaviour. And seeing the fear in your eyes, fear of him, breaks his heart. Jungkook listens to everything you have to say. And you compromise on his diet. That way, you’re safe and he’s not starved.

Originally posted by sugutie

Free Styling 101: Unexpected Suggestions for Where You Should Go and How You Should Dress if You’ve Never Free Styled Before

     We’ve done it, best friend. We have agreed that free styling is the way to go. But if you are anything like me, you’ve known that there was a good argument to free style. You’ve read the posts that say to put on the best clothes you have and to just go out there and do it. Men will knock you over if you just dress up and go to the best bar in town. If you’re anything like me, you read each of those posts and then hopped right back on SA after rolling your eyes. Go free style they say. But there has to be so much more to it right?

     There isn’t. Now, wait a minute. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I don’t like those posts that feel like they’re just trying to throw us to the wolves, but there are some things that they got right. The most important one? 


To learn how to do anything, you’ve got to get out there and do it. 


     Duh. Simple but challenging advice. I’m going to suggest that you free style in a new way. But before we address the new way of doing things, let’s address the problem. Why don’t we free style?

     I think the problem can be answered with one simple phrase: fear of the unknown. That’s silly. One of two things will happen. You’ll meet someone and exchange numbers or you won’t. But let’s get specific. I think we always wonder where we should go, what we should wear, and how we should act. 


Where should you go the first time you free style? Some place you’re already familiar with. 


     Odd advice, I know. But have you ever gone to a restaurant or bar or where ever and been so uncomfortable and felt so out of place that the only thing you could think about was how long it was going to take for someone to recognize you were a fraud and kick you out? How good were you at freestyling that night? 

     Go where you’re comfortable. I don’t care if it’s a local dive bar or college hang out or it’s TGIFridays. Actually, I’d love it if you did go to the TGIFridays in the sort of suburban kind of affluent part of your city. The most interesting people hang out there. 

    Why should you go to a familiar place? Because then you won’t have to stress about what to wear, who will be there, what you should order, how you should behave. You’ve been to this place dozens of times. There’s nothing to think about. Nothing to be nervous about. You can go in with confidence. 


What should you wear? Well, that’s the beauty of starting in your comfort zone. 


What do you usually wear to this place? I don’t care what you wear as long as it’s not ratty sweats and a tee, but even that’s a lie. You can make ratty sweats and a tee super cute with the right accessories. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I leave the house in them. The most important things are your hair and makeup. But Shea, I’m not good at doing my hair or makeup, you say. Well, best friend, that’s why the ancestors helped us create YouTube. The trick is to master the basics. Learn how to apply foundation, put on blush, and maybe some lipstick if you’re feeling fancy. Learn a 20-minute hairstyle that you can’t possibly mess up. The less you do, the less likely you are to look crazy. 


                                         How should you act?


Like yourself. I could point you towards the women who have taken the time to write, in great detail, what you should say to a man that approaches you. But I have several problems with these scripts. The first is these scripts work for them, but you aren’t them. The second is what if the unsuspecting man deviates from the script (which he will)? What will you do when the training wheels are off? What will you do if, in your nervousness, you forget what you’re supposed to say (you will forget)? The third and most important is that pretending to be anyone besides the gorgeous person you are is both an insult to yourself and a supreme waste of your time. Don’t do it. Be you. It is exhausting to be anyone else and will make you look stilted and awkward. Be you. Everyone else is taken. 


             What do you do if a man approaches you?


Unless he’s chocolate wasted or belligerent, you talk to him. He’ll say something to start the conversation. You’ll say something back to keep it going (can’t think of anything to say? check this out) and a conversation will begin. Do you need to be attracted to him? Does he need to be rich? Does he need to be SD potential? No. No. And no. This is target practice best friend. We are not at all invested in whether you meet your SD in a dive bar. In fact, we are already positive that it won’t happen. The point is to sharpen your skills, to get you used to going out with the sole intention of attracting and maintaining the attention of men for as long as you desire. If he approaches, talk to him. You’ll find out what he does for a living. He’ll discover the same about you. Blahblahblah. You get ready to leave. You give the man your sugar phone number.


                                                  Then what?


Then you text him. For a week. Some of you have started pouting. Best friend, I’m sorry. I know some Tumblr blog told you that you’re supposed to be making money on every date you go on every single time you leave your house. I used to think that too, pumpkin. I want you to leave that idea alone. I want you to remember that you’ve had training for every job you’ve ever done and it’s the reason why you could do that job with confidence. This is training. You have one week to get this man to ask you to dinner at a restaurant that you find acceptable given his income (which you should have googled. He did give you his occupation). If you can’t accomplish that, dump him and get back in the bars and find another victim to practice on. If he does agree to dinner in an appropriate location, remember that post on figuring out if he’s cheap? Time to practice that too. At the end of the date, you should know if he’s a cheap or not. 

     What do you do with them when the date is over? That’s up to you. If you like him but still want to sugar you have two options. Keep dating him but don’t let it get so pressing that you lose sight of your sugaring goals. Or you can dump him and move on to the next victim (if you get caught up in love and relationships and feelings easily then this is how you want to go). Tell him you had an amazing time but you don’t think the two of you are the best fit for each other. Done. On to the next.


            What do you do if no one approaches you?


This may happen. The first time I free styled I sat at the bar and realized it was couples night. Great. I had two options. I could wallow in my sorrows, and my gin and tonic or I could pick my ass up and go somewhere else. I chose option two and met a very nice man whose family owned a local snack company. But there’s a chance that you’ll go to location two and no one will talk to you there either. There’s a chance. So you go home, and you restrategize. You figure out if it was you. Were you on your phone all night avoiding eye contact? Did you make eye contact and then quickly drop it thinking this made you look coy and cute (it doesn’t. if you make eye contact hold it for at least five seconds before looking away)? You figure out if it was the location or just an off night. These will happen. You’ll have a lot of them. I hope you have a lot of them. They will be how you learn. They will show you how badly you want this life or if you want it at all. I hope no one approaches you at first. If you give up at the first obstacle, you don’t deserve to win. It sounds mean, best friend, I know. But failure has been my best teacher. It has shown me what I really want and what I really like to talk about. Besides, this is just training remember? We didn’t expect to meet our future SD in TGIFridays.

Best friend, what do you think? Is this a free styling plan that you can get behind until you build your confidence or have I lost my natural mind? Tell me your thoughts and your plans. Let’s talk!