i want these ovens

9

Maybe I shouldn’t care about toaster knobs, or being responsible, or descending into chaos. Why should I be the only one in my family who gives a crap, right? Maybe I wanna have fun, drive a fancy car, dance like a sex lunatic. You’re a good dancer. YOU’RE MISSING THE POINT, RAMONA! I don’t want to dance! And I don’t want another shitty toaster oven!

  • Dadsona: [on the phone] Hey Robert, just checking in, did you preheat the oven just like I asked?
  • Robert: Yep.
  • Dadsona: What temperature?
  • Robert: 534.
  • Dadsona: ...That's the clock.
  • Robert:
  • Dadsona:
  • Robert: 535.

i want to live in a small flat decorated all over with plants and post-impressionist paintings, with big windows that let lots of light in, i want the furniture to be thrifted and mismatched, i want the place to smell like flowers or an apple pie in the oven and i want soft baroque music to be playing in the mornings while it rains outside and i drink coffee and my girlfriend reads out random poems she likes from a poetry book i got her for her birthday and i want it to feel like home

Courage

Requested ages ago by @grace-for-sale​. Hope you like it!

Summary: AU in which Dean and Cas are both high school teachers. Dean has a crush, but no courage to do anything about it.

Word Count: 1600ish

Warnings: None. I wrote something without smut. What??


“You’re late, Mr. Winchester.”

“The bell was literally ringing as you said that, Lydia,” Dean smiles. “I think we can all let it slide.”

Lydia smiles back and starts sharpening her pencil in the sharpener by the door, where she’s clearly been waiting for him. “I can let it slide,” she agrees, “since you were just out there talking to Mr. Novak.”

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Whyyyy does tumblr keep recommending me d//an and ph//ll blogs??? by the dozens!! I’ve never watched one of their videos in my life -_-’

bad job, algorithm 

I want to spend fall with you. I want to walk through the park holding hands, pointing out the prettiest orange leaf on one tree compared to the prettiest red leaf on the other. I want to spend hours looking for the perfect pumpkins to carve, knowing that it’ll look nothing like we planned for them to. I want to jump in the leaves like we’re kids again and come back inside to drink apple cider, eat the cinnamon doughnuts, and watch hocus pocus.

But then, I want to watch fall turn into winter with you. The apple cider into hot chocolate, the leaves into snow. I want to decorate our own stockings and sit by the fire. I want to watch Tim Allen turn into Santa Claus while the cookies are in the oven. I want to dance around in our pajamas to your favorite Christmas songs. I want it to snow 6 inches on Christmas Eve so I can wake you up with chocolate chip pancakes and a white Christmas.

I want it all, with you.

Full Refund

Summary: It all starts with a silly text to Derek.

Notes: A quick little fic inspired by @stileshale‘s tags on this post. (On AO3)


Stiles drags himself up to his room, feet heavy on the stairs. He’d thought, now that summer was starting, he’d have a better chance. With all this free time, surely someone would let him take them on one date. But he’d been turned down time and time again.

So he’s back at his dad’s place, and it seems even less likely that he’ll find someone, now that he’s away from campus.

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Things that drive Yuri Katsuki a little nutso once he marries into the Nikiforov lifestyle
  • Why does this avocado toast cost 4000 yen
  • Where do all these marble busts keep coming from you can’t even tell me who they are
  • No really it is just half an avocado?? Mashed into a piece of toast?? Victor??
  • When I said I was in the mood for pizza I meant like those Tostino pizza rolls you can get in America, not that I wanted you to install a wood burning brick pizza oven in our house
  • Our dog does not need a solid gold collar engraved with a snowflake to match our wedding rings
  • Look I will just make you some avocado toast Victor I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with avocado toast 
  • FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WE DON’T HAVE ROOM IN OUR HOUSE FOR ANYMORE MARBLE BUSTS
  • I am not stoking the fire in our new wood burning pizza oven to make you these Totino’s pizza rolls you had express shipped frozen from America, Victor 

anonymous asked:

How do you think the Batboys would react if they would hear Batmom saying that she and Bruce are getting a divorce ? ( she is not serious. Like,she would be upset at Bruce and he would say something sarcastic . She is annoyed and frustrated so she says "You know what?I want a divorce!" . They hear just this part)

Alight, let me see …
———-

It was just a joke, you didn’t mean it, you would never mean something like that. Bruce had tried cooking dinner again because Alfred wasn’t at the Manor, and of course your husband had somehow managed to set the oven on fire. You look at his out of the corner of your eye, oven still steamin in front of you both.

“This is the third time in a hour you have set the oven on fire. I want a fucking divorce”

Bruce laughs, “Who would get the kids?”

“Obviously me. If I left them with you they would starve”

Bruce gives you a solemn nod, “Of course, I understand”

Damian hearing that wouldn’t know what to do. It would probably charge in and demand that you give his father a second chance. He would demand that Bruce start taking cooking lessons from Alfred. Honestly he would panic. You are the only real mother that he has ever had, and he is terrified at the thought of his family breaking apart. After you reassure him that you were only joking he would refuse to leave your side. After dinner was made Damian would curl up on the couch with you and quietly ask if you were planning on leaving his father. He would assure you that he would leave with you if you really did get a divorce, and he would make sure that you were taken care of. Damian would keep a close eye on yours and Bruce’s relationship for a while, always making sure that Bruce was treating you right.

Tim would immediately leave and head to the Batcave. He would draw up the divorce papers, splitting everything between the two of you, making sure that you have primary custody of all of the kids. He would calmly present the two of you with the papers at dinner. You hadn’t even known that Tim had heard you say anything. Both of you would quickly assure Tim that you had just been joking and that yes you two were still very much in love, even though Bruce can’t cook. Tim would smile happily and throw away the papers. Later he would tell you that the document had been saved to his computer, just in case you ever did want to leave Bruce.

Jason of course would support you 100%. As soon as he heard you say it he would chare into the kitchen and start yelling at you deserved better, and that you didn’t need Bruce. He would offer to help you pack everything up. Then he would look at Bruce and tell him to start groveling, because you were the best thing to happen to him, and if he let you leave him, then Bruce is a bigger idiot than Jason thought he was.

Dick would immediately know that they were joking. Whenever Bruce did something stupid you would tell him that you wanted a divorce. You had been doing this ever since you had adopted Dick. At first it had made him panic, but at this point he would just walk in and offer to marry you himself.

About this time now a very grumpy and sleepy Isak is being smooched awake by his sunny boyfriend because they are supposed to meet at kollektivet for breakfast. 

“Come on, Baby. We’re gonna be late”  Even says as he stands up, thinking about taking the duvet with him, but then again he’d never do that to the love of his life (read: he knows he wouldn’t survive this). Isak huffs annoyed. 

“Who makes plans on saturday morning anyway? ‘s the day of sleeping in….who cares if we’re late, i need more time.” he sighs into his pillow. A tad over-dramatic if you ask Even, who chuckles down at him, smiling fondly. 

“Babe, if we are late you know that Eskild will make why are you late, you naughty boys jokes for the whole time we’re there, right?” 

And… good point. With a groan Isak rises from the cozy warmness that is their bed and maybe he will complain a good portion of the way but maybe he will also let Even smooch his cheek and maybe he will even hug Eskild back when they get to kollektivet and his Guru is throwing his arms around him. Almost lifting him from the ground with the force of his hug. 

Maybe he missed his Guru to pieces.

To Work Up An Appetite

This is a short one-shot for @starlitsummersky, who inspired me with this beautiful piece of art! I know you didn’t necessarily ask for this, but I was in a bit of a writing slump today and your picture totally inspired me! This may not be the best but it got me writing again and for that I’m so grateful! I hope you like it <3

There’s some pretty heavy making out in this fic, but it’s not smut. There’s also like zero plot lol


“Not that I’m complaining or anything, but shouldn’t baking cookies be a little bit lower on our priority list?”

“Fresh cookies are the fastest way to make a house feel like a home.” Betty replied, pouring a heaping portion of chocolate chips into the mixing bowl. “Besides, I want to make sure the oven is properly working before our house warming party next week, and this seemed like a great way to test it out.”

She continued stirring the batter together, Jughead coming up behind her and scooping some dough out of the bowl with his finger.

“Juggie!” She chastised, swatting him away but laughing nonetheless. He popped what bit of food he had managed to escape with into his mouth with a triumphant smirk. 

“Sorry Betts, you know I’ve never been good at waiting.”

She rolled her eyes at his childish display, a small smile playing across her lips. She began portioning the dough onto the cookie sheet, being careful to guard the tray with her body and prevent Jughead from swiping any more bites. When she finished, she popped the cookies into the oven and set the timer to twelve minutes. 

“Now we just have to wait.” She announced, stepping over to the sink to wash her hands of any excess ingredients.

“What should we do until then?” Jughead crept up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and placing a suggestive kiss on her neck.

“Well,” Betty deadpanned, “You could help me wash the dishes.”

“Or…” Jughead’s voice rumbled in her ear before nipping at it hungrily.

“Or we could go unpack a few more boxes?” She teased, giggling as his hands grazed the skin beneath her tank top.

“Or…” He spun her around as his voice turned into something more primal, Betty’s entire body shivering at his intention. 

“Or we could go organize the pantry?” She whispered, her breath shallow as her heart rate quickened with anticipation. Jughead didn’t bother responding, instead lunging forward and capturing her lips in his.

Betty gasped into him, her entire body flushing against his as his tongue begged permission against her lips. She gave him entrance instantly, the kiss intensifying quickly as her hands reached up around his neck and pulled him in deeper. He broke away for a second to lift her by the thighs, an excited squeal escaping her lips as he carried her to the counter top. 

The second she made contact with the granite she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him closer. His lips instantly dropped to her chest, his tongue sucking it’s way along her collarbone and burning a trail of pink into her heated flesh. She tilted her head back in elation, granting him more access as his mouth continue to devour the skin just above her breast and his hands raked their way up her back. 

She clawed at his hair, grabbing hold of his beanie and tossing it off to the side. She relished in the feeling of his dark locks between her fingers, accompanied by the small thrill that came from knowing this place was reserved for her and no one else. His tongue swiped at the pulse point on her neck and she moaned, reaching down and grabbing a greedy fistful of his t-shirt. Unable to resist any longer, she forced his head upward and locked his lips back with hers. She eagerly allowed the taste of him to overwhelm her, his hands sliding up her thighs and resting just below the hem of her cotton shorts.

She lifted her supporting arms just for a moment to pull his hand farther north, gripping tighter onto his shirt for balance. At her encouragement he pushed his body further into hers, one hand palming her butt cheek as the other slid across her jawline before grabbing the back of her neck. His fingers placed pressure along her spine as he bit down on her bottom lip, evoking an heated sigh from Betty. 

A low growl echoed in his chest at the sound of her pleasure, every hair on Betty’s body set on edge at the rumbling. It was primal, it was instinctive, and it was incredibly sexy. She dragged her hands along his chest, running them down his abdomen and around his hip bones. Her lips continued to attack his with a growing ferocity, her nails scratching at his lower back. She toyed with the hem of his shirt, fully prepared to rid him of the offending garment when the oven timer began beeping.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed in surprise, the cookies having been long forgotten in the heat of the moment. She clutched her chest, dazed from the interaction and irritated by the interruption. Jughead laughed breathlessly at her shock, his chest rising and falling as he attempted to come down from the high. 

She giggled in response, her laughter meshing into his until they were both laughing at nothing, her head falling into his chest as her shoulders shook with joy. 

When they had calmed down she pushed him away, hopping off the counter and readjusting her ponytail before pulling the cookies from the oven. The sweet aroma instantly filled the room, making everything around them feel more full.

“Well,” Jughead broke the silence, a cheeky grin on his lips, “That’s one way to work up an appetite.”

The Cat Cafe(Yoongi)

Genre: Fluff/Angst 

Word count: 1,566

Request: Okay so what’s up.. I’m thinking of something as y/n is an exchange student that starts to study in Daegu and wants to get a job and then she finds a restaurant that needed a waitress and she applies and gets accepted however the restaurant is yoongi’s Mom’s new restaurant that just opened last week pls make it angsty and it’s (reader x yoongi) as he being an idol and his mom is very protective of him.. anyway add some of your magic to it and surprise me 😎😎❤❤

A/n: I want to make this a series cause it’s gonna take years for me to finish in one whole piece.

Part One//Part Two//


Scattered newspaper were all over your bedroom floor of the two-bedroom apartment you shared with your roommate. The apartment wasn’t much but it was just enough for you to live in. You threw the last sheet of the newspaper off your bed, sighing in frustration, it’s been a month since you’ve been looking for a new job and with your rent payment coming up you started to worry more and more. Being a transfer student, you didn’t have a lot of money after moving to Daegu. You, already stressed with studying and finding work, were on a breaking point and needed a break from the world for a bit. Taking your coat you walked out of the apartment, strolling down the street you glanced at the store window displays, a tiny sign caught your eye. 

‘Help Wanted’ 

The bold red letters seemed to speak out to you, as you looked at the store. It was a tiny cafe, a cute cat cafe. You smiled to yourself, when you saw the tiny cats that were cuddling with the customers, you wondered where the store was a couple weeks ago when you were walking down here. You walked into the store and headed towards the cashier, a lady in her mid-forties, smiled at you. “What would you like today, miss?” She asked as you smiled shyly.

“I was wondering about your help wanted sign, I would like to apply for a job here.” You explained, trying to sound as professional as possible. She smiled brightly.

“Great, do you have a resume I can see?” She asked as you smiled back, pulling your resume from your purse. She looked at your resume and smiled brightly. “When can you come into work?” 


You walked to the tiny cat cafe, opening the door you were greeted with the fresh smell of baked cookies and coffee. “Ah Y/n you’re here early” She smiled, as she took the fresh baked cookies out of the oven.

“I wanted to be early for my first day, do you want me to do anything before we open?” You asked as she nodded.

“Can you feed the cats? I want them to have some food in case we don’t have a lot of costumers” She said as she started to decorate the cookies. You took the cats out, putting some food in their bowls, stroking the cat as she purred and ate the food. You did this for the other cats, once you finished you headed to the kitchen to wash your hands. Putting your apron on, you started to help decorate the cakes and sweets. “What did I do to deserve an angel to work for me?” She praised, as you smiled. “Can you go grab some more flour? We should refill the day starts.” She asked as you nodded. Walking towards the cupboard you tried to get the flour, now on your tippy toes, you stretched your arm out to grab it.

“Need help with that?” A male asked as you looked over, seeing a boy not too far from your age maybe a year older at most, brown hair slightly damp with a towel wrapped around his neck. He smiled gently as he grabbed the flour for you, you smiled and thanked him. “You must be the new worker my mom hired, my name Is Yoongi, Min Yoongi and I live right upstairs.” He explained as you nodded. You couldn’t help but blush a bit, now that he was so close to you.

“Y/n, have you grabbed the bag of flour yet?” Yoongi’s mom called out, as you started to back away from Yoongi taking the bag.

“So your name is Y/n? What a pretty name.” He flirted, as your face heated up. 

“Y/n?” You heard her call again, this time she entered the kitchen. “Ah, I see you’ve met my son, Yoongi.” She smiled, as she gave him a hug. “Yoongi here is going to be a star one day, I wish he would just continue the business but I guess he was always meant to rap.” She smiled softly, as she grabbed the flour from your hands. “Let’s finish up before we open.”


You tried not to slouch as you waited for customers to roll in, there were already a couple customers chatting while petting cats, all of them were couples. You sighed, you wish you could see your boyfriend right now but he always had school when you didn’t and when you had school he would be studying and using his free time to study or do homework. You fiddled with a pen while you waited for a customer, suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking behind you, you saw Yoongi, smiling, he had headphones resting on his neck as he grabbed a couple cookies from the cookie tray. “Hey! You can’t just take cookies out of there, they’re for the customers.” You explained, as Yoongi only grinned.

“Relax, it’s fine my mom always lets me grab treats. She thinks it’s a good thing that I’m eating while working.” Yoongi explains, taking a bite out of the cookie. 

“What are you working on anyway?” You asked him, as Yoongi grinned, placing his headphones over your head, grabbing his phone out to play the track. You started to hear a beat as the beat got faster, you started to hear electrical instruments, and soon you heard Yoongi start rapping, bobbing your head to the beat you saw the look of happiness within Yoongi’s eyes. Once the song finished, Yoongi took the headphones off your head, placing them back to rest on his neck. “That was super good, I didn’t know you could rap so good” You praised as Yoongi laughed.

“Thanks, I’ve been waiting for someone other than my mom to listen to it to see how they would feel about it,” Yoongi explained, as he grabbed another cookie before trying to escape but you grabbed his hand, keeping him in place.

“Where do you think you’re going? Give it back” You laughed, as Yoongi turned around patting your head as he handed you a cookie.

“Here have one, you’re probably hungry.” Yoongi smiled, as he picked up one of the kittens who snuggled up against him. “This one’s my favourite.” 

“He’s really cute” You commented, as you stroked the jet black cat, while it purred.

“Table for two please?” Someone asked as you looked over to see your boyfriend, Kiwoo. He smiled, as you smiled back.

“Kiwoo!” You smiled, as you walked to give him a hug “I thought you were studying for midterms right now?” 

“I am, I just thought I would visit my girlfriend while she was at work as a surprise since we never see each other.” He gave you a peck on the cheek as you smiled.

“Do you want some coffee? Or maybe some cake?” You asked as he nodded.

“How about one cup of coffee and one cup of tea and two slices of cake, for you and I?” He asked as you looked at the clock seeing that your break was in a minute.

“Yeah of course.” You smiled, as Yoongi put down the cat.

“Who’s this? Y/n” Kiwoo asked as he pointed at Yoongi.

“He’s my bosses son, he lives right upstairs from here, he’s really cool” You smiled, as Kiwoo nodded.

“Ah…I’m Kiwoo, Y/n’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you” He introduced, emphasising boyfriend.

“Yeah…whatever” Yoongi glared, as he walked back upstairs.

“What’s wrong with him?” Kiwoo asked as you shrugged not even knowing what that was.


A week later since you started your job at the cat cafe, you started to see Yoongi less and less, and even when you saw him he wouldn’t talk to you, he wouldn’t even glance your way. Yoongi’s mom caught on right away and noticed the tension when Yoongi would be in the same room as you. You got to work, decided to start icing the cookies, Yoongi’s mom stood beside you trying to help finish icing the cakes too. “Did something happen between you and Yoongi?” She asked as you shook your head. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t really know why he’s not talking to me.” You told her honestly, as she let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry dear, I thought you two would be the best of friends but I guess he’s having one of those weeks where he get’s moody.” She explained in hopes to cheer you up, you gave her a soft smile as she smiled back. “Now let’s get these puppies on the display case.” 

You grabbed the tray of cookies, placing them nicely on the display tray before placing it in the treat display case. Yoongi walked downstairs, letting out a yawn as he smiled at his mom giving her a hug. “Morning mom” He smiled, as his mom smiled back.

“Yoongi, I want you working with Y/n today, I’m going out to lunch with the girls and I want you to watch over the store while I’m gone” She explained, as Yoongi groaned.

“But mom I ha-” Yoongi tried to explain before being cut off.

“You can take a day off your music career to help your own mother.” She cuts in, as you can’t help but cheer on for the mother.

“Ugh fine” He groans, as he grabs the cakes placing them in the display case.

The Walls Sweat

I think I need to move again.

The doctor called it agoraphobia. I call it a rational reaction after being stalked for two years by an ex boyfriend. The moment he was finally jailed, I picked up everything and got out of there. Mom said I could move in with her, but I didn’t want her to see what I’d become.

The new apartment was across the state, cheap, and had plenty of delivery services. Once I entered that building, I resolved the closest I’d get to leaving it was to get the mail every other day. I worked from home, freelance writing. Unpredictable, at best, but I’d managed to get it to work for me.

Keep reading

Surprise (William Nylander)

So I got a little carried away on this one and it’s really long. I hope you like it though! 

Requests are open!

Warnings: Hint of bedroom smexiness? 


It had finally happened. After a drought of over 50 years, the Stanley Cup had found its way back to Toronto. The final buzzer had just sounded in game seven overtime because your husband, the one and only William Nylander, had scored the winning goal. The family members were working your way down to the ice as the stadium shook with the cheers of the sold-out Toronto crowd.

You made it down to the ice just as the players finished the handshake line. Blurs of blue zoomed past you as the celebration continued. Occasionally one of your fellow WAGs would get snatched by their player prompting you to laugh at their startled screech.

You were doubled over laughing at Sydney’s face when you were whipped off your feet and twirled around at what felt like 95mph.

“Willy!” You yelled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Stop spinning me!!” He stopped spinning and before you could regain your bearings he had bent you back and and kissed you. You lost yourself in his lips until he pulled you back up.

“We did it. We won!” His eyes were bright with excitement and his smile took up his entire face. “We actually won the Stanley Cup.”

“I know!!! I’m so proud of all of you!” You pulled him into a hug again. “Especially you! Willy…you scored the winning goal. The winning OT goal. Do you realize that?!”

He looked at you for a second. “I did, didn’t I?” You nodded your head and then he picked you up and swung you around some more. “I can’t believe it!!!” You laughed and just enjoyed celebrating with him and his teammates, your second family. You smiled as you saw Ema, Auston’s mom taking about a million pictures while she simultaneously wiped tears from her eyes.

You took a tip from her and pulled out your phone to take a bunch of pictures of the smile on Willy’s face. It was an expression you wanted to remember forever. When he picked up on what you were doing he turned it to selfie mode and took a bunch of pictures with you. Before you knew it, the Stanley Cup was being brought out and when Willy was handed it you had to stop the tears from flowing at the look of joy on his face.

When he finished skating his lap he came back over to you. “Are you going to come out with us?”

“No. I’ll head home. That’s more of a team thing.”

“You sure? The guys wouldn’t mind…”

“I’m positive baby. Have fun. Don’t get too drunk. I have a surprise that matches this blue waiting for you.” You ran your fingers along his jersey.

His eyelids lowered a little and he bit his lower lip, making a face you had decided was his “certified sexy face”. “Do you want to describe it to me? Paint me a little picture?”

“I don’t want to give too much away…it does that all on it’s own.” He groaned a little bit and pulled you closer to him. “I love you Mr. Nylander. I am so proud of you.”

“I love you, Mrs. Nylander. I won’t keep you waiting long.” He pressed another long kiss to your lips before he skated you back to the tunnel so you could start on your way home. “Be safe. Text me when you get home.”

“I will. And you be safe, too. See you when you get home!”


~Three Weeks Later~

“The Cup…the Stanley Cup…is gracing the Nylander household tomorrow. Can you believe it?” Willy had been in a good mood all month. And it rubbed off on you. The two of you hadn’t fought in weeks and were constantly smiling and laughing. It was like your honeymoon had started again. You were enjoying it…a bunch.

“I’m so excited. Have you decided what you want to do with it yet?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his front to your back with his head resting on top of yours. “Maybe swim…go to dinner. The next time we win we can put our baby in there.”

“You planning to win again?” You asked as he swayed the two of you along the floor.

“Back-to-back. We’re coming for it again.” You gave a light laugh and he turned you around to look into his eyes. “You didn’t say anything about the baby….”

You gave a light shrug. “Well, we’d have to get started pretty soon if we wanted to be able to put a baby in their next season. They need time to develop.”

“You wanna get started now?” He put on his Certified Sexy Face and pulled you closer.

“Well…I would. But I just put some buns in the oven…wouldn’t want them to burn.” You shot him a wink and then pressed a kiss to his nose before skipping to the kitchen. You heard him sputter and then start to chase after you.

“Y/N! Come back here!” You laughed before taking off. What Willy didn’t know was that there was no reason to get started on baby making. Since you had not one, but two victory babies already cooking. He wasn’t going to find out until tomorrow, though. You had a surprise planned.


You answered the knock on the door that came promptly at 9am. Willy was still asleep and it would give you time to set everything up. As you welcomed the Stanley Cup into your home you smiled at it’s babysitter. He made himself at home on your couch once the Cup was placed on the table. You offered him a cup of coffee and showed him the way to the bathroom before excusing yourself to go get the supplies necessary for your surprise.

You grabbed the two positive pregnancy tests, onesies, and an ultrasound picture from the hall closet. You draped the outfits on the bowl part of the cup and crisscrossed the tests so the picture was propped up. You snapped a few pictures and then headed upstairs to wake up your husband.

“Willy! It’s time for you to get up! Sir Stanley is here for you!” You were practically bouncing with excitement as for once in his life he jumped out of bed and practically sprint down the stairs.

“Are you serious!? Oh my gosh!! Y/N! The Stanley Cup is in our house!!!” You raced after him with the camera recording, hoping to catch his reaction to your grand surprise. You rounded the corner a split second after him.

He was walking over towards the cup trying to figure out what was sticking out of it. You watched his eyes widen and mouth drop as he connected the dots. He picked up the picture and made some incoherent noises.

“Willy?” You questioned a smile wide on your face. “Are you ok?”

“What’s this?” He had a breathlessness to his question.

“A surprise. Are you? Surprised?”

He blinked a few times. “This means what I think it means? That we’re going to have a baby? This isn’t some joke is it?!”

“Actually…” You watched his face start to fall. “We’re having two babies.”

“What?!” He did a double take of the ultrasound picture and then raced to you wrapping his arms around you. “How long ago did you find out?!”

“I took a test last week and I went to the doctor on Monday. I wanted to surprise you. I know we can’t put our kids in there yet…but I thought this would be a close second. Are…are you happy?”

“I’m ECSTATIC!” He yelled. “This is the best day ever! Not only do I get to hang out with the Stanley Cup, but I just found out that I am going to be a father! To twins!”

He grabbed you and kissed you hard. “I’m so excited! You promise to still think I’m beautiful when I look like a hippo?”

“Baby, I will always think you look beautiful. I love you.” He did a little dance. “When can we tell people?”

“They recommend waiting a few months…but you’re not very good at waiting for anything. We can tell them now if you want? At least our immediate friends and family?”

“Yes!! But first…let’s eat breakfast…with the STANLEY CUP!!” He grabbed your hand and tugged you along. This was going to be the best day…week…month…year…ever. And you were so glad you got to spend it with your family. The Stanley Cup was just an added bonus.

Long Post

I work at the cafe area of a Big Box Store. In addition to opening/closing (depending on the day), preparing, cooking, and packaging all food as well as running my own dishes and prepping for the next day, I’m also running transactions. I do all of this ALONE for between 4-8 hours even though my closing time has been cut by 30 minutes, but that salt can wait.

Today, I want to talk about the customers, because that who we’d really here for. Here is a(n incomplete) list of offenses they have committed:

-yelling for me while I’m washing dishes in the back. Incessantly. Much more than needed. “Is someone there??? Hello??? Hellooooo??? Is someone there??? I just want some food!! He– oh, THERE you are , gimme some uh…” IT TOOK ME 4 SECONDS TO TURN OFF THE WATER AND WALK OVER SUSAN

-yelling for me when I’m closed and then saying “yeah I see you’re closed but I just want X”. I’m closed. Ive been closed for 20 minutes. My ovens are off and my supplies are out/put away. Leave.

-while I’m cleaning up I have my sign out with the operation hours, the lights at off, the machines are clean, and someone comes up and asks “You’re closed?” Yes, Ryan. “When did you close??” Well if the sign says I close at 8 and it’s 8:15…

-“What kinds of drinks do you have? How much is each size? What sizes do you have?” Honestly if just started pointing to the signs ABOVE MY HEAD and the cup display IN FRONT OF THE REGISTER. Most of them act shocked, as if they haven’t seen it. Come on, Becky, get it together.

-shoving a card in my face. The card reader in right in from of them. The main store makes you run your own card, why would we be dofferent? Last time a woman nearly put it in my mouth. Next time in going to put their chip in for them on the card reader and see if that gets the goddamn message through to them.

-when they walk up and immediately start ordering “Give me XYZ with these special treatments”. I’m not near to/ logged into my register and also I’m a human being, try a “Hi” first, Rusty.

-whistling for me like I’m a dog, even when I’m within sight (which never happens to my male coworkers)

-tapping their card on the counter while I’m woking with my back turned to package products. I’m well within speaking range. Don’t tap your card at me, Helen, I’m just going to make you wait longer

-throwing randomly assorted change on the counter and then making me count it out while you silently stare. Are you a child or unfamiliar with American currency? No? Then act like an adult.

-asking for a special order and then complaining that I don’t have it ready when you come back early. 7 minutes, buddy.

-complaining that I can’t walk your order over to you. I can’t leave the kitchen IM THE ONLY ONE HERE

-complaining that the area I LITERALLY CANNOT SEE is dirty in an anonymous guest complaint when a singular person had spilled some of their ICEE near the trash. (Fuck My Co-workers, they can see it but either won’t help even when told to not tell me that it’s getting bad)

I have an interview to be a cook in a proper kitchen on Thursday, so I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll get out of retail cafe hell and be able to do work I actually enjoy

Cookies

@fictober @today-in-fic

_________________

The best solution to a dank, cold, dark, dreary day had to be cookies.

It wasn’t cleaning. It wasn’t sleeping. It wasn’t washing laundry or folding clothes. It wasn’t paperwork.

Therefore, it had to be cookies.

Chocolate chunk bars, peanut butter blossoms, oatmeal raisin circles, Russian Tea cakes, nut cups (the name would forever make her grin naughtily into her shoulder), Almond press cookies.

She’d made them all and eaten them all at some point in her life but right now, she wanted them all.

And she had an entire day to do it.

Mulder was off with the guys doing unintelligibly mumbled ‘fact gathering’ which she wanted absolutely no part in but made her keep her phone within reach and $400 for bail by the front door … just in case.

A baking frenzy the size of Scully’s ambitions necessitated a trip to the grocery store, which she did with clenched teeth and slightly combed hair stuffed under winter cap. She hated the store, she hated dealing with vibrating carts and things too far back on the top shelf which required her to either scale surreptitiously or fetch a lovely man attached to an annoyed woman to reach things for her and by far, she hated waiting in that damn checkout line with random people discussing random things to pass their time while invading hers.

Making it home alive and considerable lighter in the bank account, she set her wares down, slapped her hands together and dug out every bless-ed bowl she owned.

This was going to be fun.

&&&&&&&&&&

Ten minutes into her cookie making orgy, she cranked her CD player up, sounds of Bryan Adams, Alanis Morrissette, Billy Joel and Journey intermingling on shuffle, herself singing quietly as she buttered, egged, floured, sugared and powdered.

First batch in, cooking well.

First batch out, burned to a fucking crisp.

First batch 2.0, cooking well.

First batch 2.0, burned to a fucking crisp.

Twenty minutes later, oven declared on the fritz and Scully pissed at the entire damn world.

&&&&&&&&&

Her mother wasn’t a scrap of help, considering she was out of town and seemed to have taken the power along with her, her house dark and cold, transformer across the street still sparking, electric company truck just setting up for what she could only assume was going to be a very long day.

At least she hadn’t unloaded everything from the trunk of her car.

&&&&&&&&&

Hauling all that crap upstairs put her in an even more foul mood but for God’s sake, she would be having homemade cookies and nothing was going to stop her.

Freaking soggy ass elevator, soaked socks, stringy hair, wet wool reeking hat, sodden coat, ripped grocery bag whirlwind of a shit day so far.

Mulder, at least, had power.

Granted, there was no Mulder, but she had a key, a working oven and the will to make one edible cookie.

It only she had remembered the mixer.

One God-damned cookie.

That’s all she wanted.

1,000,000 spoon strokes later, her shoulder was numb and her fingers stiff but she had chocolate chip cookie dough ready for chocolate.

Fuck Nestle and the forgotten bag of chocolate chips still sitting on her counter.

Digging around Mulder’s cupboards, she found Reese’s Pieces and M&M’s, sketchy in their expiration date but not to tooth breaking stage so she went for it, stirring them in with a vengeance, needing a cookie like humans need air and Mulder needed a keychain every new place they went.

&&&&&&&&&&

He walked in his apartment just as she burned the living hell out of her fingers, his hot pad collection leaving something to be desired. The free-formed cursing made him smile even though he couldn’t actually see her around the corner but since he smelled heaven-sent desserts, he didn’t question her motives for invading his apartment but rather strolled into the kitchen, hesitating only a moment before moving towards her, pulling her fingers from her mouth and running them under cool water in the sink.

“I’m buying you hot pads for Christmas.”

He continued massaging her fingers under the faucet, “hi.”

“Hi.”

Finally letting her go, he looked her up and down while she wore a pair of his warm socks and long sleeved t-shirt, hair sprinkled with flour, “so, what brought on the Betty Crocker invasion?”

“I just wanted some damned cookies. My oven broke, mom doesn’t have power, burned my finger, I’m tired, cranky, hungry from lack of aforementioned cookie and I want to throw everything out your window.”

Reaching around her and fingering a large chuck of dough, he popped it in his mouth, “so, what you’re saying is you need to go sit down while I bake things.”

Intake of air, exhale of giant sigh later, she leaned back on the counter, scooping her own dollop of raw dough, licking it slowly, “I have the recipes in my head so you can’t make what I want but you can help, if you’d like.”

“If I help, do I get to eat?”

“As many as you want.” Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, she gave him a smile, “I had plans for five different kinds of cookies but I’m thinking my ambitions run higher than my abilities.”

“Compromise at three?”

“Deal.”

It took until he had nearly sliced the end of his finger off while chopping pecans for her to ask, putting down her measuring cup and taking the knife away, “what are you doing here, anyways? I thought you were with the guys all day? Secret surveillance, sketchy sources, soaking wet back alleys and skulking monsters …”

Chuckling, “it was going so well then you threw in monsters and negated the beauty of the entire alliteration.”

“Yeah, I know … that’s the kind of day it’s been … add a cup and a half of flour, please.”

Mulder returned to the original question as he carried out orders, “Langley’s got a cold and Byers wouldn’t let him go out in the rain so we called it off. Frohike sent him to bed with a double dose of Nyquil. When Byers mentioned formatting hard drives, I ran like hell and never looked back. I was coming here to grab a few things then I was going to interrupt your afternoon.”

Adding pecans to the brown sugar filling, she bumped his thigh with her hip, the height difference killing her at times, before handing him a large spoon to stir his concoction, “you might change your mind about hard drive formatting when you reach your 200th stir.”

“Shit. I don’t own a mixer.” Looking at her, “can’t I just go to the store and buy you cookies?”

“No, now stir.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Three hours later, it was incredibly dark and foreboding out, lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, curtains open so they could watch the torrential monsoon in progress. Settled on the couch, cookies were piled high on the table before them, glasses of cold milk standing tall, blanket spread out across folded legs, Mulder having changed into sweats and thick socks and long sleeves as well. Holding out a Russian Tea cake to him, “thanks for all the help today.”

As he bit down, eyes closing in delight and powdered sugar puffing all around, “you’re welcome.” Another bite finished it off and he reached for his milk, “and I have a confession to make.”

“Should I be nervous?”

Shaking his head with a smile, “Langley wasn’t sick and there wasn’t any hard drive formatting.”

Peanut butter cookie bitten, she cocked her head, looking at him in curious inquiry, “then why did you come home?”

Shifting his hand from its place on her knee to her swollen belly, “I missed you guys.”

“You were going to see us tonight regardless.”

“And your point is … ?”

Now she laughed, snuggling closer, settling her head on his shoulder, “we missed you, too.”

Anxieties

First fic I’m posting. It’s from mobile so I can’t exactly add a “read more” so um… sorry.

WerecreexDragonHanzo
Hanzo is an anxious new dad but Werecree is there to calm him down.
—————–


The dragon lay in his nest, which was built on top of their large bed surrounded by pillows and many blankets, something he himself had to fluff up and put together when he felt their little one coming. It was what kept him in his dragon body until now, not wanting to lay such a thing in his smaller, human-like form. It ended up being a good idea, seeing as the egg he was currently cradling was about the size of his torso, maybe even bigger.


Hanzo rubbed his scruffy cheek against the smooth outer shell of his egg, enjoying the how nice it felt against his skin. This wasn’t his first egg, no. He’s laid ova before, mostly in small clutches. But this is his first fertilized egg, his first baby. And he didn’t regret it; he loved his mate, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be as anxious as he is right now.


“Come now, Hanners. At least lemme touch ‘em.” Came his mate’s voice from his place just a few feet away.


Hanzo turned his head to hiss at him, causing the werewolf to whine and tuck his ears down flat. “Not with those claws of yours. And they are still fresh,” he grumbled, referring to his egg, “probably fragile. I am not taking any risks.”


Jesse pouted, scooting a bit closer to his mate and their egg. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at him, but he stayed still, cautious. “Sweetheart, yer a big, strong dragon. I’m sure yer egg is just as tough as you are.” He said, his tail smacking against the blankets once. Hanzo frowned, seeming to think over the pros and cons of letting his mate pet their egg.


He grumbled quietly to himself and shuffled a bit, still holding onto his baby, “Alright, fine-” Jesse’s ears perked up and his tail smacked against the blankets again. “-but under one condition.”


Jesse was honestly surprised that Hanzo was considering letting him touch it. His dragon was stubborn, usually able to stand his ground for a while before softening up. It has only been a couple hours. “Sure, buttercup, anything! What is it?” His tail was wagging obnoxiously behind him by now, making it hard to hide his excitement.


Hanzo’s sharp ears gave a twitch, his lips pursed as he came up with the words. “You must wear oven mitts. I do not want you to scratch our egg.” He said sternly, fixing Jesse with a hard gaze. This was not up for discussion.


Jesse cocked an eyebrow and looked down at his paws, clenching and unclenching his fists. He kept his nails trimmed for reasons kept between him and his mate, so he figured that wasn’t the real problem Hanzo had with him touching their egg. The werewolf pouted at him but sighed when he saw Hanzo wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Alright, fine, I’ll wear some mitts. But it’s a promise!” he announced as he stood up, carefully stepping out of the dragon’s nest, “Imma touch our little angel ‘cuz guess what? That’s my pup, too!” Jesse sang on his way out of their room. Hanzo rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop his lips from curving up into a small smile.


He watched his wolf exit the room before looking back down at his egg. He ran his hand along the smooth surface, thumb rubbing over the freckles that decorated the shell.


Of course Hanzo would be anxious. He was already extremely protective whenever he laid his unfertilized batches of eggs, only letting Jesse help him with the laying process, maybe even allowing him to hold the smaller eggs in his paws sometimes. It depended on how he felt that day. Now was different. Now they had a responsibility to keep this egg safe and warm. It was their pup, after all. Hanzo was just afraid of the egg cracking or becoming too cold or maybe it wasn’t even Jess- no, it was definitely Jesse’s. Now the dragon was over thinking, his tail flicking in irritation.


The dragon takes in a deep breath, repeating the lines in his head-


The egg won’t crack if they’re careful.

The egg won’t become too cold if he continues to hug it.

The egg is 100% Jesse’s.


-He exhales and feels his nerves finally relax, his cheeks flushing a light pink in embarrassment. It’s ridiculous how he keeps having to tell himself these things, reassure himself that everything’s going to be okay. In reality, he’s just terrified of screwing this up. He trusts his mate, loves him very much, but he just doesn’t trust himself.


Hanzo jumps when Jesse appears at their door, a big smile on his face with equally huge oven mitts covering his paws. “Found ‘em!” He called out as he walked back over to their nest. Hanzo naturally hugged the egg closer, but he couldn’t help the way his cold heart fluttered at how thoughtful and caring his mate has been. Most of his demons seem to fade away as he watches Jesse position himself near him, mittened paws out and ready.


The dragon let out a small, impressed huff and slowly pulled away from the egg. “I’m surprised you really went in search for some mitts. I figured you would have started to whine.” Hanzo teased, reaching forward to scratch right underneath the werewolf’s scruffy chin. Jesse’s tail wagged at the attention, pounding heavily against their sheets.


“Well, I know better than to argue with ya when yer actin’ all momma bear with yer babies.” He crooned, nuzzling the palm of Hanzo’s hand when it was offered to him.


Hanzo let out a snort, “I am nothing like a mother bear.”


“Oh, I beg to differ.” The wolf teased, grabbing hold of Hanzo’s wrist with his ridiculous mitt-covered paw to press small kisses to his fingertips, “Ya get all protective and stubborn and ya always look like yer goin’ ta bite me…” Hanzo blushed as he continued to plant kisses up his arm, “But then you turn around and take such good care of yer eggs. It’s damn cute, darlin’.” Jesse’s unoccupied hand had wandered over towards the egg, making sure it was in line of sight of Hanzo. He didn’t want to piss off his dragon, afterall.


He looked up at Hanzo, his gloved hand hovering over the top of their egg. A silent question.


Hanzo bit his lip and hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. Jesse’s tail flopped heavily and his ears perked up, finally dropping his hand to pet the egg his mate refused to abandon. He whined happily, feeling something almost big and natural blossom in his chest. He felt the need to protect it, and Jesse figured this was what Hanzo must be feeling.


Jesse dropped Hanzo’s wrist in favor to carefully wrap his arm around his waist, pulling them close together. His dragon didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Hanzo hummed and rested his head against his shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut.


The wolf nuzzled against Hanzo’s hair, mindful of the horns jutting out from his forehead. He breathed in the scent of him and pulled him closer, carefully rubbing the egg between them. Everything was pleasant. Jesse was with his soulmate, with his pup, and all he wanted to do was to protect them both. It was his natural instinct to do so, despite knowing Hanzo could take care of himself. But he knew Hanzo wouldn’t mind the extra attention.


He looked down at him and found him completely relaxed, eyes closed and probably drifting off to sleep against his shoulder. The wolf was a natural heater, and Hanzo, being the cold-blooded dragon he was, tended to use him for his body heat. Not that Jesse minded.


The werewolf looked back at the gloved paw resting on his egg and he hesitated for a moment before slowly attempting to wiggle his hand free while the other stayed comfortably on Hanzo’s hip. Suddenly, the dragon grabbed his wrist and growled, without opening his eyes,


“If you touch our pup with your damned claws I will have your arm ripped off and tossed into a meat grinder.”


Jesse gulped and whined, ears falling flat. But Hanzo continued, leaning up to press a kiss to his snout,


“I am kidding, I love you. But I swear to God, Jesse. If you so much as think of pulling those oven mitts off, you are sleeping on the couch for a month.” His eyes fluttered open just to frown at him.


Jesse was both terrified and impressed by how quickly Hanzo could change from loving to intimidating. He only smiled wide, pressing their foreheads together, “You’ve got it, sugar plum. Ain’t no way I’m sleepin’ on the couch. It’s too darn comfy here.”


Hanzo scoffed and kissed his snout again before laying his head back against Jesse’s shoulder, releasing his wrist to instead rest his hand on Jesse’s atop their pup.


Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall.