one hell of a roofing job!

Romcoms are boring and predictable and here's how we salvage the genre

Okay, so I’m sure we’re all sick of the standard shitty (kinda really sexist) romcoms that get churned out all the time so HERES HOW WE SALVAGE THE ROMANTIC COMEDY GENRE.

No more fuckin generic movies where a Ryan Reynolds lookalike has to learn how to stop having one night stands and settle down with a generic girl who is New To The Big City.

We’re instituting a ban on every movie with discount Sandra Bullock having to Find A Man before she turns 40, with a dash of sexist ideas about career oriented women not being happy.

You know what we do instead?

MORGAN FREEMAN IS A GENTLEMAN THIEF PREPARING FOR RETIREMENT. He started out conning paperboys out of their lunch money and now he’s one of the world’s most infamous art thieves. “One last job,” he tells himself. But he can’t do it alone…

ENTER DAME JUDI DENCH, RIVAL ART THIEF FROM DAY 1. She’s planning on retiring to a small villa in the south of France, and she figures “why the hell not?” Little does she know that Morgan Freeman has held a torch for her since the day she first stole his stolen lunch money along with his bike.

BUT SANDRA OH IS THE LESBIAN COP IN PURSUIT OF THE THIEVES. She and her wife (Laverne Cox) are on their honeymoon when those fucking art thieves decide to steal the roof of the Sistine Chapel, and nobody else believes the plot is real!

And that is how we make a genuinely enjoyable romantic comedy.

Last Call

Fandom: John Wick

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Request: @notthisthyme​  Please write a john wick x reader angst and maybe if you want sprinkle in some smut and fluff. Try and rip my heart out ❤

Warnings: Fluff, angst and death.


John could feel your hot breath against his back, and the tender brush of your lips ghosting over one of his many scars. A low, hushed groan rumbled at the back of his throat as your mouth pressed against it, molding with the scar’s ridged edges. 

“And this one?” You asked him.

“Knife.” He replied, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of warmth your touch sparked through his body. “New York, about seven years ago.”

“So you were literally stabbed in the back?”

He let out an amused huff at your lame attempt at a joke and turned around to look at you, his hands coming to cup your face. Not saying anything in response, John instead leaned in for one of those lingering kisses the both of you wished could last forever, but after a time he withdrew to gaze lovingly at you. He glided a hand across your jaw, his thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

You grinned and said the same thing you said every time, shaking your head mockingly. “Nope, nah-uh.”

John’s hand migrated to your hair, pushing it away from your face. “Well, I do. And you know what?” You heard the words before he had the chance to say them, and a sweet smile tugged at corners of your lips. “I always will.”

Your gaze dropped like it always does, accompanied by a blush that made your face hot. 

Smirking at your bashfulness, John swiftly climbed on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress. Gently, he pressed a knee between your legs, making you part them so he could easily rest his body there before leaning down and brush his lips against yours. Not innocently, like before, but hot, fiery and demanding. His hair curtained you from the early morning sun that peeked in through the window, tickling your cheeks as he kissed you. The air from your lungs was almost completely knocked out of you as he pulled you close, all your senses becoming overwhelmed.

You had to stop him before you lost yourself, so you quickly pressed a finger to his lips before grinning up at him. “It’s too early for all that, don’t you think?” You teased him. “I’ve got work.”

“Couldn’t you just call in sick today?”

“I would if I could.” You told him, slithering out from underneath his body, leaving him there to watch your naked body walk across the room. “But I’m covering a shift, so I’m going to be home late tonight.”


You never did tell John that you quit your job. If he knew what you were really doing you were sure that there would be hell to pay. 

But for the last few months, today was just another day in the office for you. Except your office was a windy roof-top overlooking your target’s downtown apartment. Your equipment, rather than a computer, pen and notebook was one state-of-the-art rifle with telescopic lens. There was no need for a silencer, the noise would be lost in the droning of the traffic below anyway, and most likely be mistaken for a back-firing vehicle. Taking aim with as little hesitation as you would gossiping with a colleague, you soon squeezed the trigger all while thinking about the coffee you would order at Starbucks. You took no real satisfaction in the killing - even though you had known the target personally and by name - but you couldn’t help the lift of pride in your chest in getting a clean shot.

Smoothing your hair back with one hand you turned to pack the rifle into an inconspicuous ruck sack, but you could hardly do that with a gun pointed at your head. You were suddenly very aware of how chilly the air you were taking into your lungs was and how the metal that was begin pressed between your eyes was just as icy. Without moving from your spot crouching on the concrete ground, you stared up at the person holding the gun, but instead of panicking you merely smiled, let out a amused huff and continued to disassemble your weapon. 

“I thought you’d come after me sooner.”

The woman’s upper lip curled back into a snarl. “You’re a slippery one, I’ll give you that. And I couldn’t just walk into your home and kill you there in front of your husband, now could I?”

Nodding, you set the base of the rifle down. “You would’ve been dead before you could’ve walked out the front door. John hates intruders.”

She hummed in agreement. “Baba Yaga… Found yourself quite the man, didn’t you?”

“Better than your man was, I’m sure.” 

The gun dug deeper into your skull, leaving a circular red mark were the barrel pressed against your skin. “Why’d you kill him?”

“I was paid.”

“By whom?”

You smirked. “I don’t remember.”

She adjusted her grip, your honest response obviously disappointing her. “You’re going to die here. Have you got anything to say?”

You were going to die there, and you couldn’t see anyway to avoid it. Her hand was shaking and were you to try disarming her she’d surely fire, deliberately or not. “What’s your name?”

“Does it matter?”

You finished packing up the rifle, zipping the bag closed as you shook your head and mouthed a small ‘no’. A gentle smile graced your lips and you excepted your fate, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to enjoy that Starbucks coffee you had planned to buy. “My husband doesn’t know about you. You’ll be safe for a time, but you best believe everything you’ve heard about him. He will find you.”

She nodded… And she pulled the trigger.

You didn’t hear the shot, but you did feel the coolness of the gun leave your forehead and the sudden pain in your chest. It was just like the movies. Even the passages of light seemed to slow and the sounds of pigeons, traffic and the retreating footsteps of your murderer seemed to be underwater.  Aside from the beat of your heart, no muscle would move. The bullet entered as if you were nothing, just meat, blood and bones, blasting a cavity in your back as it burst crimson into the fading day.

So this is justice.

A slow death. That’s what you’d been paid for. Slow and painful, leaving the victim to bleed to death. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into at the time, but a poetic death was better than a boring one. 

You lay on the cold cement as the fiery pain slowly turned into a dull numbness, and you found your hand creeping into your pocket and wrapping around your phone. Taking it out with shaking fingers, you brought it up close to your eyes, your vision blurry. You contemplated calling for an ambulance, but you knew that by the time it got there you’d be dead.

So instead you called John.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then finally he picked up.

“Hey, baby.” He greeted, slow and husky.

“Hey.” You croaked, wincing at the sound of your voice.

There was concern in his next words. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You told him, willing yourself to speak in a more normal tone. “I think I’ve just caught a cold is all.”

“Sounds pretty bad. When are you coming home? I’m making your favourite meal tonight.”

You smiled, ignoring the tears that fell from your eyes. His words warmed the heart that ached inside your damaged chest. “I’ll be later than expected, love. Things came up, that’s why I called.”

“That’s fine.” There was a pause. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You wanted to laugh, but it seemed as though you’d forgotten how. “Right as rain.”

Again, another pause.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, and I love you too.” The dog barked in the background and you heard John chuckle. “We both love you.”

You closed your eyes, almost feeling his hands come in contact with your face, pushing back the hair from your eyes. A content smile pulled at your lips.

“(Y/N)?”

He got no response.

“(Y/N)?”

Again, your line was silent. And he had no idea that that was the last call he’d ever receive from you.

nothings gonna change my world

in which will meets nico’s sisters

word count: 1764

read on ao3

::

It goes better than Will had planned.

Will, despite being fully informed of Hazel Levesque’s sweet demeanour, had still been expecting a shovel talk. Especially after talking to Leo.

(“You should have seen her after my visit to New Rome,” he’d said, letting out a whistle. “Girl hits hard.”

“Leo,” Nico had cut in, boredly. “You faked your death for six months.”

“I didn’t mean to!)

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Dauntless: Caffeine, Baby?

Eric x OC

Warnings: language


Wow, Eric was being more of an asshole then usual. I leaned against the wall with crossed arms as the new initiates filed past sleepily, hardly able to even hold their eyes open.

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Blossoming Love

Originally posted by cuteguk

@xxsimplycutexx asked: Hi! can I request a BTS scenario where y/n kept her pregnancy as a secret from Jungkook but she ended up telling him one morning after feeling nauseous. Jungkook gets mad at y/n for not telling him but make it a happy ending please 😊 

Pairing: Jeongguk x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: i really hope you enjoy this and thank you so much for requesting! <3 writing this made me so soft ;;;;; thinking about Jeongguk being a soon-to-be father is so endearing!! i will possibly write little drabbles for this in the future :) also much love to @pluviasonnant for spamming me with quotes that helped me in writing this ❤︎


Positive.

Shit.

Two red lines stared back at you like two evil, red eyes, watching how your life was going recently but still decided to curse it more anyways.

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Things Left Unsaid (Part 1)

Prompt: Imagine years ago, you used to work with Jonathan Pine and John Wick, and both of them were madly in love with you but chose to keep quiet for the job’s sake, and eventually, each of you went separate ways. When they find out you’re in trouble, they reunite and join forces to save you.

Warnings: language, death, killing….

Word Count: 5282

Notes: Spoiler alert-ish for the Night Manager and John Wick. Beta’d by my girl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes. Prompte from @theartofimagining13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How were you in this situation? Easy - you killed for a living. Ironic, isn’t it? You take the life of someone else to earn your own. It wasn’t that simple though. You killed people who you were ordered too - thankfully, so far, they were like you. Mob men, bodyguards, people who posed a threat to whoever your boss was. You didn’t kill random people, that would be sick.

But apparently no matter how you tried to justify what you did, you were still in Beijing, at the hands of the Chinese Mafia. You had gotten in over your head on this one. The hit was a big wig in the Chinese Mafia, you thought maybe you could take him but apparently you bit off more than you could chew.

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Secret Admirer

Extended Imagine Requested by Anon: Reader has a thing for photography and kinda stalks the Joker and takes sneaky but very good pictures of him and sends each one to him with cheeky messages. One day he wants to catch the mystery girl with the magic camera and when he sees her he’s instantly in love with her. In the end he lets her take pictures of him in every way and even gets her to luxuries places for her to take photos.  

Author’s note: this got longer than expected 😅 but I’m kinda proud of it. I really hope the story comes across the way it played out in my head. It’s times like this where I wish I had a broader vocabulary 😅 also I sometimes think something, and forget to write it down, and continue with the next sentence (this goes for literally everything I write!), so if something appears to be missing, sorry 🙈 please do mention it to me.
Enough talk, happy reading 😘

sidenote: “radio transmitting station“ probably doesn’t exist 😅😉 but I didn’t know what it’s really called, so…
The shirtless pic, i found on google, Credits to the Owner, the other pics are from Jared’s instagram

Your name: submit What is this?  


Author’s/Reader’s P.O.V

Opening the envelope, you took out the photos you had taken earlier that day. You hung them up on a line around your art studio, admiring your work. Photography had always been a passion of yours, and lucky for you, you were able to turn it into a job, as well. Most of your time, you spent taking pictures for several newspapers or being the photographer at high-society events. The beauty of this job was, that everyone knew your work, but hardly anyone knew you. No one ever really paid attention to the woman behind the camera, and that’s just how you liked it.

Over the past few weeks, you had found yourself with a new obsession, one might call it. The Crime Prince of Gotham had caught your eye. Unlike most, you weren’t really afraid of him. It may be foolish, but to you, he was fascinating. It hadn’t been difficult to find out, where he was and where he would be, so in your free time, you had made it your mission to take more and more photos of the infamous Joker. You had to admit, that he was quite handsome, and admiring him from afar had a certain thrill. So much so, that you decided to up your game. Instead up just taking pictures of him, and keeping them in your home, you had resorted to sending a couple of them to the mad clown himself. You were even brave enough to add a little message.


“Boss?”, Frost entered the Joker’s office, holding an envelope, “Another one arrived today.” Mr. J growled in annoyance but motioned for his henchman to put the small package on his desk. Frost did as he was told, and left his boss’s office right after. 


For a good half hour, the Joker ignored the envelope, focusing on his newest heist plans. But curiosity got the better of him, so he put down his pen and grabbed the package. He ripped the top open, shaking the content onto the desk. A photograph and a little piece of paper fell out. Without taking a closer look, Mr. J could already tell, that it was another ‘present’ from the same person, who had sent the last 5 photographs.
Slowly, he picked up the newest picture, instantly recognizing when it had been taken.

He grinned at the memory of the day. He had, once again, broken out of Arkham Asylum. Prior to when this photo was taken, he had a little fun with the good doctor. It made him wonder, did this mysterious woman witness the events of that day? If so, then he was truly impressed. In general, this mystery woman peeked his interest. She had been taking so many photos of him, some looked like she couldn’t have been far away, and yet neither him nor his henchmen had caught her in the act.

The Joker picked up the tiny piece of paper, and read the little message scribbled upon it: ‘Ever the dramatic, aren’t you Mr. J? Staring of into the abyss…Or were you looking for me? I dare you to come find me 😉.
He smirked, “Alright doll, challenge accepted. You think you can mess with me…”, he shook his head, “You have no idea what’s coming for you.” The Joker laughed, reveling in the thoughts of him finding you, and then doing what he does best. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face, when he would be standing in front you, watching you quiver in fear. He just might have to take a picture.


You weren’t sure why you added the last part to your most recent message to the Joker. Even you knew it was foolish to challenge him. But truth be told, you were dying to meet the man. Hearing him talk directly to you, maybe even ask what he thought about your work…


Finding the Joker was a rather easy task, when you owned a little machine that imitated a radio transmitting station, that could intercept the frequency the police used, when they were out in the field, trying (and usually failing) to catch the bad guys.


You were adjusting the signal, when a new call came through. “Batman has eyes on the Joker. He will try and corner him into the warehouse by the docks. Everybody get ready, wheels up in 5.”
You grinned, they were going to fail for sure. As if it was that easy to trap the Joker. He was too smart to be tricked by the police. Sure, they had the bat’s help but to be honest, you didn’t think too much of the man who dressed up like children did for Halloween. 


Quickly, you grabbed your equipment, and drove down to the docks, finding the perfect hiding spot. Luck seemed to be on your side, as you found a latter leading up to the roof. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed a hold of the metal bars, and began your climb up. 


Slightly out of breath, you reached the top, and once again took a look around, searching for a good place to set up a sort of make-shift camp for the next couple of hours. Even though you thought, there was no chance in hell the police were actually going to catch him, this seemed to be a perfect opportunity to take a few more shots of the Joker. Maybe even one with Batman in it, he could use as a Christmas card. After all, he appeared to be obsessed with the ‘hero of the town’. You chuckled, but then re-focused on the job at hand.

You could already hear the sirens from far away, and the screeching of a more familiar car close by. Rushing over the roof, you found a broken window, which gave you enough access to peek into the warehouse. The sound of gun shots was carried through the air, and you could feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through your body. Quickly, you unpacked your camera, and took some practice shots, to get a feel for the surroundings. 


A loud crash below you, made you jump. The purple Lamborghini, driven by the mad clown, crashed through the front of the warehouse, and was now coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the building. The place was a dark, and you had a hard time making out the two figures, who were inside the building below you. The light of the moon fell through the glass roof, and you were able to identify the bright green hair of the man you were here to see. Batman wasn’t as easy to spot, his black costume blending in with the darkness. From what you could see, it appeared the pair was in the middle of a hand-to-hand combat, and the Joker was losing.

You tried taking pictures, but they were moving too fast. That is until the bat had managed to throw the Joker to the floor, and get a tight grip on him.
A noise coming from behind you, made you glance away from the fight at hand, and when you turned back, the Joker was tied to a chair, a sack pulled over his head. For a moment you put the camera down, and slightly leaned forward, trying to hear what the person dressed in all black was saying. “The police will be here soon to take you in. Don’t try to escape, I’ll be watching.”, a deep voice said, clearly trying to sound threatening. The hooded figure remained quiet, and somehow you felt disappointed. He wasn’t even trying to put up a fight, no snarky comment, nothing.


Within the next few minutes the bat had disappeared, leaving the Joker all alone. Without thinking about it too much, you packed up your camera, and carefully rushed back down the latter, and ran towards the entrance of the warehouse. Seeing the damage from the car, you slowed your pace. Hesitantly, you looked around to see if there was any sign of batman still being here, but it seemed he was just messing with Mr. J. 


Pushing away the thoughts of the possible consequences to what you were about to do, you slowly walked towards the hooded figure, still tied to the chair. Standing in front of him, you cleared your throat, making him aware that there was someone standing in front of him. “Got to say, Mr. J, I’m slightly disappointed. The bat finally caught you. I always imagined our first encounter to be quite different…”, you whispered the last part, hoping that he didn’t hear that you had indeed dreamed about meeting him, for real, and not just seeing him from afar. 


Suddenly, you heard the infamous laughter from the Joker, but it wasn’t coming from the figure sitting in front of you.

Bright lights were all of a sudden pointing at you from various positions in the room. “What the…”, you muttered confused, and in the spur of the moment, ripped of the hood. You were shocked to see, not of the Joker, but your next-door neighbor, all beaten up. 


“And you really thought that stupid Batsy had gotten the better of me.”, the king of Gotham said tauntingly, quietly approaching you from behind. “My dear sweet Y/N, I’m the one who’s disappointed.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, when you felt his hand brushing against your shoulder, then slowly wrapping around your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “As strange as I find your little obsession with me, I got to admit, I’m a fan of your work. You truly have a good eye.”
“Th-thank you.”, you muttered, trying hard not to panic. You had to admit, it was now clear why people were so afraid of him. Being this close, only his presence sent shivers up your spine. The Joker moved to stand before you, and when he looked at you, he was at loss for words. He knew your name, your neighbors, and your work, yet had never actually seen you. Taken aback by your beauty, the Joker let go of your neck. 

For a moment there was absolute silence, as the Joker contemplated his next move. You on the other hand, caught yourself staring at the man. The one thing that first drew you to him, were his eyes. You could only imagine the things they had seen. To you, the eyes were the door to a person’s soul, and looking into his now, you were sure that there was so much more to him, then the people had led you to believe.


“Y/N.”, his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “I have a gift for you.” The Joker smirked, and you knew that he had something up his sleeve, although you weren’t quite sure, whether it was a good or a bad thing for you.
“You, my dear, get to live. And, this is the punchline kitten, so listen closely. You’re going to come with me, and stay with me. What do you think about that, doll. Me making your wildest dream come true.”, he laughed, making you smile as well.


But then he stopped abruptly, his expression turning serious. “One more thing. And answer honestly, Y/N.” You nodded, while you in your mind, thoughts were running like crazy. You wanted to go with him. There was a reason you were so drawn to him, and now here he was, giving you the chance to be with him. Whatever he asked of you, you were prepared to say ‘yes’.


“Would you…”, he hesitated, suddenly feeling more vulnerable then he cared to admit. He wasn’t even sure why, but the second he looked at you, he knew he needed you to be with him. “Would you live for me? Hmm?” 

“Yes.”

“Careful!” Do not say this oath thoughtlessly. Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power!”

His finger lightly brushed your face, tracing the curve of your lip. “Do you want this?”
“I do.”
“Say it. Say it. Say it! Pretty, pretty, pretty…” - “Please?” 


The Joker smiled, pleased with your answer, “God, you’re so good.”

 A sigh of relief fell from your lips. “Alright then, doll, let’s go home. And don’t forget that camera of yours, I have a few ideas for some interesting pictures myself.” You chuckled, how he could go from being serious, to cheeky in a matter of seconds, was equally fascinating to you, as his whole persona. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you towards his Lamborghini, motioning for you to get in.


several months later

When the Joker took you home with him, you didn’t know what to expect. But to your surprise it was everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. That may sound cheesy, but being with the Joker meant, you no longer had to take picture of news-worthy stuff, or of high-society people who couldn’t care less about the true art of photography.

Mr. J stayed true to his word, and allowed you to take pictures of him, whenever you wanted. 

Well, almost whenever you wanted.
Sometimes, he would take the camera away from you, and snap a few shots of you as well. Mainly, after you got out of the shower, for obvious reasons. Or after you just woke up, when you still looked a mess from the night’s activities. The Joker was a dirty birdy, but he loved you, and made you smile, so you weren’t complaining…too much. 


Mr. J had even planned several trips for you two to go on, to countries you had always dreamed of going, where you would be able to take beautiful pictures of all the things you had always dreamed of seeing live someday. Being his queen, he made sure you always had everything you needed. You would’ve never guessed that a few harmless photos would lead you to the love of your life.


One other thing you loved so much about photography, was the fact that you could capture wonderful memories with one simple click. You often found yourself flicking through the photo albums you had made, containing mostly photos of J, and only a few of you. You included all kinds of pictures, but one of your definite favorites was this one: 

You had managed to sneak up on your beloved Mr. J one more time. The day of your wedding. Although, you felt it was a bit ridiculous, the Joker had insisted on the tradition of the groom not the seeing the bride in her dress before the actual thing. But to you that only meant, that you were still allowed to see him. And he looked as handsome as ever, even though you could tell he was slightly nervous. That was also the day, he told you he loved you for the first time. Truly a day to remember.

Life Update

I started a new job at a museum. Here are some things that have happened at said job in the first 2 weeks:

A woman has attempted to reach out and touch me because she wasn’t sure if I was real or not. When I asked her why she was trying to touch my face she responded, “I don’t know you’re just sitting here and it didn’t look like you were breathing.” On her way out of the museum she told me to “breath louder” next time.

I almost fell off the roof of one of the museum buildings. It was wild as hell.

A 3rd grader sneaked away from his tour and came up to me and gestured for me to put my hand out. When I did he put a tiny, folded piece of paper in my hand and told me to open it. When I did I saw the paper simply said “Tyreese” which the kid then said “That’s me!” and gave me finger guns before running back to his tour.

Someone tried to break into our visitor center when it was closed by displaying some kind of badge which he insisted was a police badge. When he was turned away and asked to leave, he shouted that he was a city police officer and he wanted a painting of a Russian queen. There’s an ongoing investigation.

One of our docents died the day after I met her and I’m now convinced I may be the angel of death. More soon.

When I was being shown around on one of my first days, one of the curators on site tried to have me removed from a portion of the museum saying it was “closed to the public”. When my fellow coworker told her that I was a new employee and not the public, she said she didn’t care and still suggested we all leave. Ever since that day when she sees me she pretends she can’t see me, making me question if I am invisible for small moments in time.

We have a museum cat. It’s not exactly ours it’s a neighbor’s and it finds its way on site all the time. I have been instructed not to let it in, but I fear that as it gets colder my agreement to these terms will waver with every drop in temperature. 

Someone got mad at me and yelled at me because they tried to walk into an exhibit through the exit and I corrected them. I then got a 5 minute speech for some reason about respecting military veterans and was instructed to wear a lighter shade of lipstick. I asked the man what any of this had to do with him incorrectly walking into an exhibit. He then left and claimed he was too disrespected to enjoy the experience.

I ate a fake grape that was on display. I thought it was a real grape, obviously. It was not. It was a fake grape stuntin’ like a real grape.

Every Letter (8/10)

Summary: A pen pal writing assignment connects a young Emma Swan with her best friend Killian Jones. Life sends many hardships their way, but their friendship remains solid through the years. As they both grow older and begin to realize what they want out of life, will their letters be enough? (On AO3.)
Rating: T
Word count: ~9500
Ch1 - Ch2 - Ch3 - Ch4 - Ch5 - Ch6 - Ch7 - Ch8 - Ch9 - Ch10 [Pt1] - Ch10 [Pt2]

Emma was frustrated, in more ways than one.

There was the regular frustration that came with the job of sheriff. Several people had had their houses egged and TP’d the past week and a half, and while Emma and David were both fairly certain that it was just a couple of high school kids acting up, no one had seen the perpetrators. And Emma was pretty sick of spending hours helping families remove hundreds of feet of toilet paper from their roofs and trees. She wasn’t frail by any means, but her back and shoulders ached with all the reaching. When they caught those damn kids, she was going to give them hell. Maybe let them spend a night or two in a cell to scare them straight. Or worse, put them to work on cleaning the school bathrooms. She relished in the thought of how she could punish the brats.

There was the mentally exhausting frustration that came from Walsh’s constant hovering. She’d skipped out on just a few dates with him and suddenly it was like he was clinging to her that much harder. And maybe part of that had to do with the fact that two weeks earlier she had told him point blank that Killian would be living with her and he had no say in the matter, but still… Endless texts, calls when she was in the middle of work, surprise visits during her lunch hour. One of those times, Killian had been seated across from her at her desk and they were eating Granny’s takeout, and without asking, he pulled up a chair and joined them. It had been a very awkward and uncomfortable experience for everyone.

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Doing cheer with ADD is like:

“Okay, girl, pay attention, the music’s about to start.”
“No, keep paying attention.”
“It’s show n go, basket, okay?”
“I can’t really see anything in this handstand part.”
“Shut up, just go with the bounces.”
“Stop looking at the roof!”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“What was that sound?“
“Europa is such a pretty moon.”
“There’s lots of hair on the mats.”
“Time for jumps. One, two, on the floor.”
“You’re over here now. Toe-touch, pike, toe-touch.”
“You forgot to bend over.”
“What the hell comes next?”
“They should vacuum the mats. Who’s job is that? They could get one of those carpet sweepers.”
“My second base has really long hair. I don’t want to hurt her if it gets caught in my fingers.”
“Just load in already!”
“What’s she doing with my foot?”
“Hey, I can see the giant silvery ventilation wormies really good from up here!”
“I don’t care if you’re on time with the dance, just be in front of her before 3 or she’ll elbow you in the teeth again.”
“Stop spacing out.”
“Smile!”
“You know I don’t like smiling.”
“Shhh! I don’t want to hear that now. Just do it.”
“In that part of your book, you have to writ-”
“NO! Listen to the coach.”
“Those wormies look like they’re crawling out of a cave. Hello, wormies!”
“You’ve forgotten this again, haven’t you?”
“I don’t think I ever knew it”
“I think you can stand up now.”
“Oh.”

9

- fav fics challenge : Bagginshield || Modern!AU ; Haunted houses

If there were water by @stick-around-town (Stickman)

Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there’s something strange about Bywater House that he can’t quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.

4

The elevator tech saw this little cutie hanging on the door that goes out onto the 4th floor roof. Big strong guy noped the hell right outta there, so it fell to little ole me to go relocate Mr. Bat (which I did. )

As usual, cute little batty did not like being moved, so I put him on one of the roof vents up under the cover so he wouldn’t be bothered too much by the sunlight (there is no forced air through the vents, so he won’t be blown off either.)

I just love these little guys.

Beauty and the Beast Part 2

Summary: Beauty and the Beast AU

Characters: Eventually Dean x Reader

A/N: So the much anticipated second part. I really hope that I lived up to any and all standards. Let me know what you think!!

Part 1

Originally posted by nanfandan

“I’m here about the help wanted sign”

The man simply looked at you, confusion evident in his face as he didn’t say anything.

“Is this a bad time because I can come back later”

This seemed to snap him out of it as he quickly shook his head “No no please come in”

You nodded slowly and hesitantly walked through the door, jumping slightly as you heard it shut behind you. The house you had stepped into was not as you expected. It seemed to be larger on the inside and much emptier, old, dusty furniture lined the walls and old pictures hung above them as you were led down the hall.

“Please have a seat” The man instructed you indicating a chair angled around an old fireplace you doubted even worked.

You hesitantly took a seat, and tried to take up the least amount of space as possible. However, soon footsteps were heard behind you causing you to stand up and spin around. There stood a man whom you assumed to be Dean, dressed in a long trench coat.

“Ohh visitors” The man’s face lit up with a smile as he walked towards you “can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee, tea?” before you could even form a thought he answered for you “Tea, I’ll get you tea” And with those words he walked off to the kitchen leaving you in stunned silence.

“Uhh look” You addressed the man who had met you at the door “I’m really just here for the job, I just need to talk to Dean”

“Dean right” The man mused to himself, thinking for a moment “Dean isn’t-uh-here at the moment.”

Well that meant the man in the trench coat wasn’t him “do you know how long he will be gone?” You pressed “I really need a job”

“I’m afraid he isn’t hiring at the moment” The man’s words came out much too quickly to be the truth.

“The sign out front says you are” You raised an eyebrow at him “Besides it would only be temporary, just a few days of work”

“He’s looking for someone with experience”

“Which I have plenty of” You tried to keep your voice calm as you spoke to him “Which I would tell Dean if I could just talk to him”

“Look” the man began only to be cut off by the voice of the man in the trench coat.

“Dean?”

“Yes I’m looking for him do you know where he is” You spoke up before the other man got a chance to.

“Yes would you like me to get him?”

“Yes” You said just as the other man said no.

The man in the trench coat, however, didn’t even hesitate before retreating back down the hall to get Dean. You could hear the other man sigh loudly causing you to smile in victory. This victory, however, was short lived as two sets of footsteps could be heard coming back towards you.

“I hear you wanted to see me” A deep groggy voice sounded before you saw Dean appear. He had no doubt just woken up, still clad in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

“Yes I’m here about the job” You spoke, your breath nearly hitching as beautiful bright green eyes landed on yours.

His gaze quickly skimmed your figure before he shook his head and walked over to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of what you assumed was supposed to be your tea. “Not hiring”

“Please I just want to work for a little while, until I make enough money to get me back on my feet.”

“Still not hiring” He said in an almost bored tone that was tearing away at your patience rapidly.

“A few days at most, I just need enough money for gas so I can get out of town”

“Listen sweetheart” You had to keep your eyes from rolling at the nickname “In order to work in a mechanics shop you need to know about cars”

“Which I do” You spoke frankly, crossing your arms and clenching your jaw.

“I mean more than just cars need gas to run.”

“Ok then quiz me and I’ll prove I know what I’m doing”

Dean’s eyes studied your figure once again, his eyebrow cocked showing clear doubt “You know what I’ve got an old car out back that won’t start. I haven’t had the time to work on her but you get her to run and I’ll consider hiring you.”

“Consider?”

“That’s the best deal you’re getting sweetheart, take it or leave it”

This time you didn’t try to stop your eyes from rolling before you spoke “fine” You extended your hand and Dean shook it briefly before walking back down the hall without a word.

You watched him leave with mild curiosity before turning your attention back to the other two men in the room. They were both looking at each other, their faces showing that surprise as they seemed to be having some sort of silent conversation.

“Well would either of you like to show me to the car?” You forced their attention back to you as the taller one shook his head slightly.

“Right-uh-this way” He led you through the kitchen, grabbing a set of car keys off of the counter and walking out the back door to an old barn.

He pulled open the heavy door flooding the area with sunlight illuminating every dust particle that hung in the air causing you to cough.

Inside was an old 1967 Chevy Impala in pristine condition, the black paint shining brightly in the sun catching your breath. “This is the car?”

“No, you touch this and Dean will kill you” The man shook his head, pointing to the other side of the barn. “This is the car” It was a boring 90’s sedan, beat to absolute hell.

“I’d rather work on the impala” You mumbled walking towards the sedan, inspecting the heavily dented doors and roof before popping into the driver’s seat and putting the key into the ignition only to hear that the engine didn’t even turn over causing you to groan. “You know this is going to be more than a one day job right”

“Probably” the man nodded, “But the barns unlocked so you can come back tomorrow whenever”

You nodded and popped open the hood which only caused you to groan louder.

The man laughed slightly and stuffed his hands into his pockets “I’ll be in the house if you need me, tools are against the back wall” and with that he turned on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving you alone with the cars.

-

And so you worked all day, when dusk came the man in the trench coat came with it out to the barn, a sandwich on a plate and an old fashioned lantern in his hand.

He greeted you happily as he strolled through the bar and handed you half of a sandwich and setting the plate on the ground.

The two of you talked for a while, him doing most of the talking as you tinkered with the engine until you thought you finally had it figured out. You tossed the man, whose name you learned to be Cas, the keys and instructed him to start the car.

He happily sat behind the wheel and put the keys in the ignition. He turned them and immediately the engine began to turn over which in of itself made you want to shout for joy. However, you forced yourself to stay put as you watched all of its parts, trying to see what wasn’t working. That was, however, until the engine suddenly caught and sprung to life.

The purr of the engine filled the room causing you to jump up, pumping your fist in victory. Cas exited the car and walked around towards you, his face showing obvious surprise.

“You never doubted me for a moment right” You teased him, absolutely thrilled that you got the engine to start, and in one day no less.

“No I heavily doubted you” Cas spoke bluntly causing you to roll your eyes “I can’t believe it worked, I’ll get Dean”

“Nah don’t bother” You shook your head, putting your hand on his shoulder to keep him in place “I’ll tell him tomorrow”

“Well then I will see you tomorrow” Cas grinned at you as you grinned back.

“See you tomorrow Cas”

Handcuffs (Dean x Reader)

Prompt: Dean is infatuated with the fact that you know how to unlock handcuffs with a bobby pin, and asks you teach him, but things soon get a little heated. 

Song: In My Time Of Death- Led Zeppelin. 

Words: 2672

I was inspired by this!

(Please send me request if you feel led to do so.)

==

Shit!” You mutter under your breath. You’d been caught, and you sure as hell wasn’t happy about it. You had been on the FBI most wanted list for committing a “string of violent murders”, labeling you as a serial killer. It had always been a dream of yours to be labeled as so. You knew the police were right on your ass, but you had no idea they were this close.

“YOU’RE SURROUNDED!” A strong husky voice yelled from the other side of the thin wall. In a last minuet pursuit, you turned to run away only to find that you were indeed completely surrounded.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” The voice demanded. You fell to your knees with your hands paraded high above you. A cop quickly ran behind you, pulling your arms down to secure them in hand-cuffs.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say will be held against you in a court of law.”

“I’ve heard it all before sweet thing.” You sarcastically flirted with the cop behind you. He shoved you in the back seat of the cop car:

“Shut up bitch.” He spat down at you.

“Hey, don’t be so sensitive.” You winked. He slammed the door in your face and quickly walking away from the car shooting you a glare of pure death. You let out a harsh breath and slumped down in the seat, trying to get somewhat comfortable. Suddenly the car shifted as someone sat in the drivers seat.

“Kid, you’re in to much trouble to be crackin’ jokes.” The middle aged man seated up front preached at you as he started his car.

“Well Officer, the way I see it, is I’m dying one way or another. Whether it be tomorrow or ten years from now, I should crack as many jokes as I damn so well please.” You as a matter-of-factly answered. He pulled out of the drive way of the house and started down the road:

“So is that why you killed all those people?” He interrogated.

“Listen, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m being framed.” You honestly admitted.

“And I’m actually the pope…” He replied sarcastically.

“Believe me or not, I’m telling the truth.” You rebuke.

“I just can’t believe we got two of you psycho’s in one day!” He admitted, relieved. You shifted in your seat and straightened your posture. You knew who he was talking about, but you were really hoping you were wrong.

“Who is it?” You asked obliviously.

“Some asshole who tried to kill a girl at Stanford last year. We are still looking for his brother. I gotta admit those boys are good.” He answered with a monotoned voice. Chills went down your spine, as you suddenly realized who he was talking about. “Damn it Dean….” You muttered underneath your breath.

==

“Y/N. Y/M/N. Y/L/N.” A young women said with a condescending tone as she walked through the door way. She had a dark, intimidating mannerism, sending chills down your spine. “You know what kid, you have got yourself in some serious shit.” She stated sitting down. “And it’s my job to find out why you did it…” You rolled your eyes.

“Good luck sweetheart, but all you’re going to get out of me is that I didn’t do it.”

“I don’t buy that for one second…” She quickly rebuked, intensifying the eye contact you both had. “Describe your first victim.” She said look down at her note pad.

“I don’t even know who the first victim was…” You rebuke. She looked up at you dumbfounded that you had the audacity to say something like that to her. She sat back in her chair.

“What did you just say?” She said crossing her arms.

“I said: I don’t know who the first victim is. Nothing about them, their hair color, what they did for a living, nothing. You can hook me up to a lie detector and then ask me the same damn question and you won’t get a damn thing.” You say leaning forward. The woman stood up and walked out the door, this time with less authority. You leaned back in your chair admiring the silence in the room. She walked back in, stopping in the door way.

“Fine, Y/L/N, we’ll take you up on that offer.” Behind her was a man holding the lie detector. He walked over to the table hooking you up to machine. The woman sat back down across the table, staring directly into your eyes. The machine roared to life next to you, starting to draw small waves across the paper.

“Now I’ll ask one more time. Describe the first victim.” She said in hushed tone as she leaned forward. You mimicked her, moving forward whispering: “I don’t even know who it was.” The man looked down at the machine watching the waves, He looked up at the women across from you. “She’s not lying.” He simply stated. You leaned back in your chair as relief washed over you. The women rose from her seat and walked over to your side of the table undoing your handcuffs: “The man outside the door will take you to the lobby, they’ll do your paper work and take you off the list. Stay out of trouble.” She stated walking away from you. A man about your age stood outside the door and lead you to the front desk.

“What can I do for you?” The old woman said with a husky breath, obviously from smoking. You watched the guard walk away from you.

“Can you tell me where this man is?” You asked pointing at a picture of Dean the you had in your pocket.

“He’s back in the very last room on the right. Can I ask why you want to know…” She asked with a monotone voice.

“I gotta couple of questions to ask.” You say as cheekily hold up your fake FBI badge. You had done some pretty stupid stuff, but showing a fake ID in place where you were just arrested for begin a serial killer just made its way to the top of the list.

“Last room on the right.” She absent mindedly pointed. Either she didn’t watch the news or she was just really bad at her job, but you didn’t stop to ask. You quickly made your way to the back room to see if anybody was questioning him. You looked through the one way mirror to see him sitting by himself with his head leaned back staring at the roof. You popped the lock on the door and quickly made your way into the room. Dean quickly look over at you.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” He started.

“Dean no time we gotta get you outta here. My name was cleared, you on the other hand could be facing the death penalty!” You say pulling a bobby pin from your hair.

“Do you have the keys?” He asked innocently.

“No, I’ve got something better.” You say holding up the pin you just pulled from your hair. You started working on the hand cuffs to unlock them.

“Now what the hell are-“ Dean started but was cut off by the popping sounds of the handcuffs falling from his wrists.

“Oh man, you gotta teach me that.” He sad in awe.

“Not now, Come on!” Suddenly you heard sirens starting to go off through out the station. “That doesn’t sound good.” You say pointing up.

“The window.” Dean simply said as he walked over to it, kicking it out of the frame. He jumped through pulling you out after himself. You both quickly made your way down the fire escape to your car, that was impounded. You jumped the fence surrounding the impound getting into the drivers seat starting the car, making the car roar to life. Dean quickly jumped in your car. You sent you car in to gear, taking off before Dean even had a chance to close the door. You busted through the yellow fence guard, sending sparks flying off of your hood. You hastily made your way down town away from all the commotion.

“I can drive better than you!!” Dean remarked as held on for dear life while you sped.

“I take that as a complement, Winchester.” You sarcastically rebuke, winking at him.

==

“So about that bobby pin thing, you gotta teach me that!” Dean said as he caught you walking down the hallway.

“Oh it’s nothing, just something I learned from Bobby, ironically enough.” You say laughing a bit. “I know this is gonna sound weird but I have hand-cuffs in my car, I can try teaching you.” You say kind of embarrassed to admit that.

“Kinky.” Dean smirked.

“Shut up Winchester.” You rebuked. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Dean said watching you walk off, he grabbed for his phone in his back pocket and quickly called Sam.

“Hey man, I’m good. You’re not gonna believe who came and helped me get out.” Dean revealed.

“Who?” Sam asked intrigued on the other line.

“Y/N!” Dean halfway yelled.

“WHAT?!” Sam yelled astonished through the phone.

“Dude, I know! Can you drive over with Baby by tomorrow and pick me up?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I guess. What’s her address?” Sam asked reaching for a pen and pad.

“4568 Kivett Drive, 678 Atlanta, Ga.” He read off of one of your phone bills.

“I never thought she would live in Atlanta. Okay, yeah i’ll be there to get you tomorrow.” Sam said sitting the pad down.

“Alright man, see you then.” Dean said hanging up the phone as you walked back through the front door.

“I found them.” You say holding them up.

“Alright, lets get this party started.” Dean said clapping his hands together. You sat down (with the key in your other hand, obviously) and handcuffed yourself to the chair. Dean picked up a bobby pin that was sitting on the table and started working at the lock. Dean started getting frustrated seeing that it was a lot harder than it seemed.

“Just work the lock until you hear it click.” You say trying to help him.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He said smirking at you still concentrated on the lock. You took the key and unlocked the cuffs, gesturing Dean to sit down so you could show him. He sat down, watching you cuff him to the chair. You turned and sat the key down on the table behind, grabbing the bobby pin. You squatted down and started working the lock. Dean watched you carefully, but not in educational way, he watched you hungrily. He was snapped out of his trance as the cuffs popped off. You straightened up:

“See?” You say gesturing at the handcuffs.

“Hey do it again, I didn’t quite catch that.” Dean innocently asked. You huffed air as you put the handcuffs back around his wrists. You turned around to grab the bobby pin until you felt Dean’s hand on your lower thigh. You looked down at him as he tightly gripped your thigh. He carefully led you closer to him. You stood over him looking down, completely taken over by lust.

“Dean?” You questioned. He leaned forward grabbing the keys to the handcuffs that you had put in your back pocket. He undid the cuffs standing up, now towering over you.

“You’re so beautiful, and you’re so badass. You know how to drive me crazy in every way.” He admitted looking at every detail of your face closely, finally resting upon your eyes. You looked down avoiding his eye contact. He rested his hand softly underneath your chin bringing you back to eye contact. You rested your hands behind his head bringing his lips down to yours. Your lips crashed together, at first it was sweet and innocent, but the kiss soon turned to pure hunger as you both tore at each others clothing. Dean picked you up, pushing you up against the wall. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him into you closer. You could feel him growing harder against you. He pulled his shirt over his head tossing across the room, quickly going back to kissing you. He let you down, you took advantage of the situation, jokingly running away from Dean, causing him to chase after you. He chased you into your bed room, running up behind you to push you on to the bed, but you quickly move putting him in front of you. You push him down on the bed, moving to stratal his waist. Dean’s hands found their way to the bottom of your shirt, quickly disposing of it. He tossed it across the room, along with your bra. With in seconds, both of your clothes were thrown all about the house. Dean hovered over top of you, he softly begins to kiss your neck moving down to your collar bone, biting and sucking, leaving marks spastically.  You moaned in pure ecstasy, as he found the sweet spot on your neck. You looked down at Dean catching his lips, passionately kissing him. While your doing so, Dean slams into you unexpectedly. You screamed, arching your back as he pushed in and out of you. You grabbed hungrily at his skin, moaning his name. You could feel the coil in your lower abdomen grow tighter and tighter as you came closer to your high. You arched your back, as Dean began to thrust sloppily. Suddenly the coil broke, and you screamed Dean’s name relentlessly. As you did so Dean’s head dropped as he moaned in pure ecstasy. Dean fell over next to you, pulling you into his chest.

“Damn… ” He softly breathed into your ears.

“Dean, I-“ You started as you rolled over.

“Y/N, Sam and I have known you a majority of our lives, and ever since the day we met I have wanted to be yours. I wanted to be the one to help you when you fall and the one to be there with you always.” Dean admitted to you with a hoarse voice.

“Dean…” You breathed. “I had no idea.”

“Well now you do…”  He said looking over your shoulder as he softly rubbed it. “Would you consider hunting with me and Sammy?” He asked reconnecting the eye contact.

“Yes.” You say as you softly kiss him on the lips. He smiled at you, as he pulled you closer into his chest. He began softly humming the tune, of Simple Man into your ears as you drifted off into sleep.

==

“Dean… DeaN… DE- oh god.” Sam said as he walked into your bed room and saw you both laying there. You and Dean began to wake up a bit.

“Sam?… SAM!!” You screamed reaching to cover yourself up with the covers. Dean jumped, grabbing for the gun on your night stand.

“I guess it’s safe to say that you two feel same way about each other.” Sam admitted uncomfortably. “I’ll be out here.” He said pointing back to your living room. Dean got up and started to get dressed:

“I’m gonna go tell him about you hunting with us you can get your stuff together.” Dean said as he searched for his shirt.

“Your shirts in the living room, and okay.” You say as you prance over to him kissing his lips.

“Get your stuff together.” He said smiling down at you. You grabbed your duffel bags putting all your clothes in one and all your guns in the other. You carried them into the living room seeing Sam and Dean talking. Sam noticed your entrance and stood up.

“Y/N, I’m really happy you’re hunting with us now. But uh remind me to not let you guys around handcuffs…” Sam said holding up the cuffs. You blushed as Dean looked back at you with a smirk on his face. You had no idea what you were in for.    

If There Were Water by stickman

“Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there’s something strange about Bywater House that he can’t quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.”

Why it is important to tip/respect your servers right.

Just a little background, I’m a waitress/hostess at a Denny’s near me. During the week I serve and sometimes on the weekends, but normally on weekends I host. I’ve been waitressing for quite a few months now and I’ve been working at the diner for almost two years (give or take). I say this because I know how things work, I know good customers from bad and ect. I know all my coworkers very well and how important their money is to them. 

So tonight I had two girls come in, I knew them both when I was a freshman and I run into one of them frequently at her store. Of course, I take them because I know them, and its just kinda easy to take care of people you know. I gave them plenty of time to review the menus and look over their options and stuff like I’m suppose to. When I asked if they were ready they pretty much knew what they wanted and they were reasonably priced meals. One of the girls ordered from the value menu that we offer (this is not the girl that gave me the issue) The other girl added on something to one of her items and it of course, it is extra

As a server, you’re trained to go back periodically and check in with your guests and make sure that everything is alright, and make sure that their drinks are refilled and plates are pre-bussed. Each time I checked up on them they needed something, not a big deal, I went and got it and I asked them how everything was and they said it was ok, each time.  

When I went back to offer dessert or anything else they said no, and that they just wanted their check, the one girl with the add on asked for a box to-go. She had a little bit left on her plate, but mostly everything was eaten. When I brought the check to them they were reviewing it and called me back. She was asking why there was an extra charge on her meal, I explained that it was an add on and it needed to be charged.

Now I understand at some places you can let things slide and hook your friends up but when its a “chain” kind of restaurant its really not possible.

She goes on and is trying to figure out how her side of the check was about ten dollars, she ordered a soda, at my restaurant thats two bucks. Anything that isn’t tap water, is priced. She complained about each one of her items that  came with her meal, after she had eaten all of it. (Also, I had to exchange one of her items for something else because she didn’t like the way it was cooked, and at my restaurant we try to do out best at fixing things and making things most enjoyable for our guests)  I said to her “I can get my manager if you’d like, and she can sort this out with you and take care of it.” She denied my offer and went on to complain about her food and whatever and at this point I was beyond pissed, and I told her she can go and figure things out, as politely as I could, and walked away from the table.

They go up to pay and my manager is cashing them out and she asks “How was everything?” and they said it was fine. This gets me even more mad because the one girl was throwing a fit because her drink was two fucking dollars and she had an add-on for .79 cents. The girl who didn’t have a problem with her food paid for the entire check (18 dollars and change) They walk out and I explain to my manager what happened and she found it completely ridiculous (she is a server as well and understands what its like) 

When I go to finish bussing the table and wipe it down I see that they did in fact leave me a tip, twenty-five cents. Any server would have more respect if they didn’t leave a tip at all. Twenty-five cents is a slap in the fucking face. 

Every server has their own story, theres not one server that is serving you for the hell of it, because they like it, or because they feel like doing something good for others. The servers you see in restaurants have bills, just like you. They have families, just like you. They could be paying for their college classes, or trying to pay off college loans, just like you might be. Your server at IHOP or Chili’s or even a higher end restaurant could be a single mother of two working two waitressing jobs, trying to put food on the fucking table and keep a roof over her kids heads, and maybe see their kids ten hours out of the whole week, they may come home just in time to tuck them into bed and kiss them on the forehead goodnight. 

I’ve seen it and experienced it where there is a large check, lets say 100 dollar check, and they leave a fucking five dollar tip. Or my personal favorite is when its a large party, they all get separate checks and they each leave one dollar (if that) and then compliment on how good their server was. Please, if you don’t learn anything from this post just know that compliments don’t pay the bills.

Please understand that if you don’t have the money, don’t go out and eat, and if you don’t have food at home, just go to a fast food joint and get a bunch of food there. Don’t come to a sit down restaurant where a  server takes your drinks, prepares your appetizers, gets you your six extra sides of ranch, and three refills of cherry coke to give them a two dollar tip. It’s not fair. Especially in bigger, higher end restaurants. Those kind of restaurants have to give a percentage of their tips to buss boys, bartenders, hosts, and food runners if they have them. You can go on to any social media website and search something like “Server Problems” or “Server Life” or anything like that and see the bullshit people do to us. It’s rude and disgusting and fucked up. 

This is not the first check that I’ve seen like this either on these pages. 

If you want to do something nice for someone and take them out to eat, make sure that you repay your server for doing all that work for you. Even if they do a shitty service job, the minium gratuity is 15% (in the states anyways.)

Hostessing on holidays really shows you what people are like, you’ll have parties of fifteen come in, have almost a two hundred dollar check and leave a seven dollar tip. Ive seen two servers give the tip back because its just insulting. Then you’ll have a small family of four with a maybe a 30-50 dollar check and they’ll leave anywhere between a 15-30 dollar tip. 

My recommendation, If you can afford to take a loved one out, and go all out, and cant leave a reasonable tip, make them a home cooked meal. You’ll save the money and your loved one will probably be just as happy, if not more because it came from the heart. 

Everyone everywhere has a story, has a life, has something they’re working towards or just be trying to get by. This is just from a servers stand point, I’m sure someone on here can give you something like this and they work in retail, banking, or they’re a mechanic. Just treat people how you would want to be treated, or how you’d want your children, or significant other or who ever raised you, anyone you care dearly for, to be treated. 

Gossamer: a JJ Project Request

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Originally posted by imjaeboms

I think the hardest part of letting go is that you never really just let go. Maybe you can’t hold it in your hands anymore, but it’s still with you. The feelings. The pain. The memories.

You hold onto the pain because it’s the easy thing to do. Sometimes it’s all that’s left, but if you let it stay with you, then it just makes forgetting that much easier. 

And if you stay mad, you forget the person who made letting go so hard in the first place.

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Murdering Mr. Darcy (3/10)

Summary: Ryan is the most recent member of the Fake AH Crew, and he’s loving every second of his new job - except for the annoying British thief who, after a series of terrible first impressions, has become the bane of his existence.

Ryan hates Gavin, and he’s pretty sure Gavin hates him too - until one day, out of the blue, Gavin asks for his help planning a murder.

Part 1  Part 2  AO3

Ryan held himself very still, careful not to make a noise as he stood in the closet. It was uncomfortable; he had to crouch slightly due to the low roof, and there were hangers jabbing into his back, but he had hidden in worse positions before on far more dangerous jobs than this. That being said, he definitely didn’t want to be discovered.

It would be very difficult, after all, to explain to Gavin’s boyfriend what the hell he was doing in their bedroom.

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TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The staple of the Black community has been the Black church since accepted via slavery. Week in and week out Black folk have poured themselves into a system of belief that has done nothing for them since it was forced upon them via slavery. Mental brainwashing has you programmed to actually believe this jesus/god has answered your prayers to help you get that dream job but not one prayer was ever answered prayed by your Ancestors to stop the hell of slavery in which they lived. Even now the executions of the many Black Men, Women and children at the hands of the police today…

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

Mental brainwashing by a religious system of belief in a jesus/god has you really believing that’s gods plan was for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to be assassinated on that balcony. Or for Sandra Bland to be murdered in a jail cell, Dylan Roof to execute those 9 in the church in S.C., even more that gods plan was for the many little innocent girls to be raped by an adult. Yes your god does work in mysterious ways.

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The Black community has been plagued by the Black Church since the days of slavery as a tool for white supremacy to continue to mentally shackle and enslave Black people. Since the days of slavery the Black church has continously sold a dream that no one awake has ever received. The Black church each Sunday, Wednesday and some Fridays serve to take energy, effort and capital from the Black community for its own selfish gain. How can your all powerful god depend on financial contributions to operate..?

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The Black Church has financially drained the Black community since slavery and never offered a dime/penny to help the community in which it is located. The Black Church itself has the capital to build each ghetto into a better standard of living for its Black members. The Black church has the capital to buy land, create jobs, build homes, schools even fund college tuition and cover healthcare for the uninsured. But it doesn’t! Each week Black folk flood the church tithing money they don’t have to spare but don’t want to ‘rob god’…how can a man/woman of the flesh rob the almighty..?

Each week the church adds to its bank account, portfolio and investments while many of its members give their last. It’s time for the Black church to give back and build up the Black communities that serve, support and fund them. If not..,

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL!