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I’ve posted about this amazing man once or twice but I wanted to make an official textpost as a shoutout to him. He’s a comedian with videos on YouTube of stories and sketches. His stories are what hooked me, though. They’re hilarious and fun and amazing! His videos are like Pringles. Once one pops, one just can’t stop. When you watch one, you binge! “Just one more” is a lie. And he’s not too difficult to look at, if you know what I mean.
His most popular video is called Ghost In The Stalls. This gif is from the video…
I suggest these stories:
Ghost In The Stalls, Echoes Through The Wall, Christmas Time Boy (live story), The Comeback Kid, The Package Delivery, The Bad Apple, A Thief In The Night, The Popcorn King, The Snack Thief, It’s In The Genes, Eyes For You, The Fear Awakened, The Batman Birthday, An Odd Day To Die, Death Is A Quiet Wave, Midnight Claw, Chuck E. Cheese, Stand By Me, and last but certainly not least, The Crumb That Fell.
Pairing: Florist!Steve x Reader x Biker!Bucky Summary: Steve and Reader find a heartbroken Bucky on their doorstep. A/N: Okay so this is based off an ask here. This is written in collaboration with @writemarvelousthings. I’m really proud of this chapter and it’s a bit of a monster. I had the pleasure of writing this chapter and really hope you guys enjoy it! Come let us know what you think, we’d love to hear from you. Word count : 2,639
There were many things you expected on the stoop of Brooklyn Blooms; Flower deliveries, bills, packages. The last thing you ever expected to see was James Barnes.
The shop had been closed today, the rain allowing both of you and Steve to take a well deserved break knowing the shop would be quiet. After a sleep in you stay in the apartment most of the day, playing lazy games of scrabble with hot teas by your side. It’s only when Steve’s stomach growls that you suggest dinner at an Italian place nearby. The night sky is dark by the time you come home, the rain still coming down heavily across the city. The street lights glisten on the slick sidewalk as you approach Brooklyn Blooms. At first you assume it’s more packages, stacked up high and you silently pray it isn’t too soaked but as both of you walk closer huddled under an umbrella you can make out the shape of a man. Your breath hitches as you realise who is there.
eyyy pie! so prompt for shidge: so prompt for shidge: au where katie, as the tech junkie she is, is in the middle of a very long (and also very questionable) project and shiro is the new part-time delivery guy assigned on the route for her address. he doesn't question the delieveries, only hands her stuff with a smile. (part 1)
HOO BOY. Remember when I said I was going to try and write ficlets for these requests???
Well, instead, you’re getting this. I hope you enjoy!
Also tagging @battleshidge because everyone needs more Shidge in their life [happy belated birthday to the person who dragged me into Shidge hell and is therefore responsible for all of this]. Also @katieshirogane because ilu okay and @longhairpidge my constant support in these ventures <3
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender Paring: Pidge x Shiro Words: 9441 Rating: T+ Tags: Slow burn, oblivious crushes, university AU, college AU, fluff, pining, sass, mistaken identities :D
Shiro has learned many things in his first four months of working a delivery route part-time.
Some, he’s found out by word of mouth. He’d learned that his route, also called the “Gunderson Route” is always given to the rookies as a test. As far as he’s been told, there are only three ways out of the Gunderson Route: the hiring of a new employee, and therefore new rookie; promotion to a better route; or demotion to package sorting at the delivery center. The route was, according to Hunk, a senior delivery person, notorious in its toughness. Lance, whom Shiro has replaced, had done a dance in the middle of the break room upon the announcement that Shiro would be taking over for him.
Which leads Shiro to the second thing he’s learned about: the namesake of the aforementioned route.
With one exception, the Gunderson Route is an easy one - about seven blocks, mostly businesses and a few condos, and one apartment building with six units. The building - and most of the building’s tenants - was older, quiet, and unremarkable from the outside. Five of the six units received little to no mail on a regular basis. But apartment No. 5, on the eastern corner of the building, got enough packages on a daily basis to form its own delivery company.
Shiro had done a double take the first day Shay, his shift manager, had handed him the clipboard with the scheduled deliveries. How, he’d asked, could one address be expecting thirteen packages? Shay’d just shaken her head and sent him off with that sweet smile of hers. It didn’t take long to find out why.
Pidge Gunderson was young, maybe twenty-four at max, barely came up to chest height on him, and had what he’d heard a fellow grad student once call ‘resting bitch face’. When he’d rung the doorbell (with his foot, since his arms were laden with eight of the thirteen heavy, misshapen packages to be delivered to the address), he’d had to wait three minutes before she even swung the door open.
“There’s supposed to be thirteen,” she’d said, squinting at the packages through a tangle of brown hair that fell over her face and past her shoulders.
“The other five are in the truck,” Shiro had said, taken aback. “I could only carry these eight up at once.”
How he remembers months later that she’d been wearing an oversized and hole-pocked NASA tee-shirt, he isn’t sure, but it sticks out as clearly in his mind as the thing she’d said next: “You’d be able to carry nine if your prosthetic were fit properly. Maybe ten, since you look pretty strong.”
He hadn’t known how she’d seen his arm under the mountain of packages, or why she’d decided to point it out like they were discussing the weather, but Shiro’s immediate reaction had been to drop the packages at her feet, whip out his clipboard, and ask her to sign. He hadn’t said a word to her on his second trip up, and she didn’t even seem to notice. Lance had seen the look on his face back at the center and passed him an unopened juicebox without question.
The third thing he’s learned is that “Pidge Gunderson” isn’t her real name. That one hadn’t taken long to figure out. Lance and Hunk had been speculating that for months before Shiro showed up that there was something strange about Pidge (besides her general demeanor and persistent package deliveries), but their guesses always ended in alien conspiracy theories and government cover ups. It had been Shiro who’d confirmed it, simply by looking at the signature afterwards. Whatever name she’d scribbled on his clipboard, it’d been much shorter than “Pidge Gunderson”, and contained at least one ‘t’.
The fourth thing, he’s learned - well, he’s still learning it. He’s learning that, as ridiculous as it sounds, he might be falling just a little bit - just a smidge - in love with the odd and demanding girl on his delivery route.
Dear Tyrion, I just met this very nice Tarly named Sam, he likes dragons, books and not dying. I told him you and him would get along. By the way could you kindly make sure Danny and Jon don't have any incest babies anytime soon? I just had a chat with Bran -Xoxo Sansa
Dear Sansa, yeah incest babies, Wait did find out about Cersei already? Damn your Wi-fire connection must be the best. About this Sam guy, are you sure he's a Tarly? All Tarlys are assholes, there's a reason the heir was named 'Dick'-on, ask Sam if he's adopted- Love Tyrion, Ps: They're still fucking
Dear Tyrion, Sam is not adopted he swears, also my condolences about your siblings incest pregnancy and the whole Danny boat sex thing, Jon couldn't get himself a nice northern girl or Wilding somewhere Nooo, my brother HAD to screw the Queen because fuck politics! Let Sansa deal with the fallout in Winterfell, thats it when this is over you and I are taking a vacation in Dorne -Xoxo Sansa.
Dear Sansa, at least you don't have to listen to them, I encourage loud fucking as much as the next guy but come on, Jorah and Davos are here and this is painful for big bear. Promise me that when we reunite we will not torture our friends with shit like this, also Dorne sounds great, sun, sand, hot people in skimpy clothes, sign me up - Love Tyrion Ps: Arya still has her hit list right? Asking for a friend
Tyrion stay away from Arya, I like you alive, also Jamie is here chasing Brienne. Wtf I did not ask for your brother, I asked for mine, did the package deliveries get mixed up again? I knew I should have changed my PO Box from Sansa Lannister back to Stark, this shit always happens I demand a refund! That's what I get for ordering from Tarth Amazon, ughh -Xoxo Sansa
“Why do you want this job?” the interviewer asks her, and Kara stares at him in disbelief. His hair is slicked back, and whatever product he’s using to do it is too oily for his skin. It’s left a trail of acne along his hairline. Why does he think she wants this job? It pays slightly more than her last job, and so far no one here has tried to pinch her ass - although the day is young.
She’s pretty sure saying that isn’t what will get her hired, but she doesn’t know what else to say. ‘I want to change the world, one package delivery at a time?’ She remembers being thirteen and full of noble ideals - she remembers seeing Kal on the news, saving lives in his stupid skintight suit, and being so excited to follow in his footsteps. She remembers grief slowly transitioning into determination - remembers privately thanking Rao for the gift of her new powers, remembers thinking that in payment for the loss of her world, he’d made sure she would never be helpless again.
Kal is dead. Eliza is dead. Jeremiah is dead. Alex is hopefully alive somewhere, but she doesn’t have any use for the foster sister who got her orphaned before she finished high school. Kara is twenty one years old, and the idea of pretending, even for a single moment, that she still has ideals leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. The world doesn’t deserve any idealism from her.
“Well, I’ve worked at UPS for two years,” she says finally, since the interviewer is looking a little uncomfortable with her continued silence. “A private courier seems like a logical next step. You guys have better uniforms, I hate wearing brown.” Actually, she’s worked at UPS for six months, but she’d applied for the job with a fake letter of reference claiming she was trying to transfer from another UPS over in Washington, and nobody had double-checked.
She gets the job, she finds out a few days later, but she’s pretty sure her amazing interview skills have nothing to do with it. They give it to her because her last manager wrote her a reference letter in which he described her as, “ridiculously strong - you can send her to deliver cement bricks and she’ll just hoist them onto her shoulder and go,” and because when they asked if she was willing to use her own car for deliveries she said yes.
Joke’s on them. Kara does own - and currently live in - a car, but it’s not what she’s planning on using for deliveries.
I'm your new neighbor, and for the last month , I have received several of your cat and gardening magazines. And today I received a damaged open package from a jumpy delivery boy, and I am just wondering if you ordered these guns and should I move soon. AU
pairing: jimin / foreign ♀ reader word count: 1.9 k genre: angst, romance warnings: portraying the characters the way i need them to act for the fanfic, please don’t think it’s how they really are
since it was greatly requested and got so much feedback! here’s part two of morality! feedback is greatly appreciated! so sorry this took forever! sorry for the shirt up grammar and typos, i’m trying to reedit this and morality when my laptop is working again because my phone sucks at letting me edit.
Her hand stops midair before it makes contact with his door. She feels her heart pulsing in her chest as her hands start to become sweaty. She knows she has to talk to him, but she doesn’t want to. Things aren’t as simple as others think. How can she just act like it was okay for him to be… ashamed of her? But still- y/n had her moments of ignorance. Society is the same everywhere- it builds expectations and sets a standard for everything. She has fallen victim to it a few times in her life. But she’s an adult now, she learned and lived.
Wasn’t it the same with Jimin?
Y/n removed her hand from the door she had passed through countless of times. He had told him he loved her, but how can anyone say that to someone they weren’t proud of?
There was only silence as she questioned what it would mean if she were to talk to Jimin again.
Her phone dinged in her bag and it took her a couple of seconds to process it and search for the source of the noise. Her eyes glazed over the text message her best friend had sent her. It was a news article. It was about a dating rumor between a boy with soft lips and a kind smile and a girl with a beautiful voice that matched her appearance. Y/n glanced back at Jimin’s door. She wasn’t stupid and knew not to believe the rumours, but still. A big part of her wondered if those were the types of girls Jimin was linked with because those were the girls that suit him the best.
Y/n glanced at the door one more time before turning on her heels and before walking away.
Seokjin’s an ex-Olympic swimmer that’s since fallen from the spotlight, and you’re just some hopeful college kid on the verge of getting kicked off your swim team. Did someone mention poolside sex? |
❀ MIN YOONGI
❀ JUNG HOSEOK
❀ KIM NAMJOON
❀ PARK JIMIN
❀ KIM TAEHYUNG
express shipping | ☁︎ ✘
→ [2/3] delivery boy!au
In which your boyfriend is the stern, elusive CEO of a multi-billion dollar law firm—oh, and happens to be married. |
Anonymous asked: Can I request a oneshot with Minghao where the reader is in the same level of korean he is (korean is not her native language) and one day Minghao is very distracted by the beauty of the reader and he tells he loves them in chinese? And then he fumbles and tries to say in korean? Sorry if it is too specific, I know you will turn this into an amazing story!! Thanks a lot, love you ;D
A/N: I hope you enjoy! Feel free to send in requests anytime, they’re always open!
Korean was hard.
You supposed that out of the languages people spoke in Asia, Korean was one of the easier ones to learn. It should have been simple: English letters corresponded to Hangul characters, characters formed syllable blocks, syllable blocks became words. A word could not have more than four syllable blocks. Syllable blocks could only contain up to four characters, and the second character had to be a vowel. Simple.
And yet, it was so much harder. There were subtle pronunciation nuances and other tricks you kept forgetting. Therefore, you were stuck at some level of intermediate Korean where you knew a fair amount of grammar and vocabulary, but if someone heard you talking, they could tell you weren’t a native speaker.
That was why you challenged yourself to go to Korea for a summer. You wanted to solidify your Korean and have a change of perspective from your everyday surroundings. You decided to apply for internships and got accepted at Pledis Entertainment, Seventeen’s company. You considered yourself very lucky, because Seventeen was one of your favourite kpop groups. You didn’t know if you were going to have a chance to meet them, since you were interning for one of the higher-up managers in the company.
And so your internship began after a long flight to Korea. You were mostly in charge of getting food, sorting through finance reports for the company, and the like. Your manager wanted you to accompany him around the headquarters when he made his rounds, so you got to see some of the studio where Seventeen worked. It was kind of exciting, knowing that you were walking around the place where Seventeen practiced.
One day, your manager asked you if you were a fan of Seventeen. You nodded vigorously, then asked him why he wanted to know. He smiled, then just said for you to follow him. Oddly enough, he picked up a package of delivery food as he started walking.
He took you down a part of the company hallway you hadn’t been before. You took everything in, not quite sure where you were going, but as you neared a door at the end of the hallway, you heard the sounds of Seventeen’s most recent song blasting from behind it. You had a suspicion of where you were going, but didn’t want to get your hopes up.
Your manager paused at the end of the hallway, then smiled at you and pushed the door open.
Minghao pushed the hair back from his forehead, feeling the sweaty strands stick together. He was coming up on the eighteenth hour in the practice studio with the rest of Seventeen, preparing for their concert. And he was tired.
It was at times like these that he fumbled with his Korean. Minghao had gotten fairly good at hiding his accent recently, but it always came out when he was frustrated or tired. And now was one of those times.
Hoshi went over to the stereo and turned off the music as Seventeen went on break. Minghao found an empty space of wall beside Jun and took a drink from his water bottle.
Chatter in the room ceased as the door to the practice studio opened, revealing one of their manager’s faces. They didn’t see this manager too often, as he was mostly associated more with Pledis’ finances than taking care of the boys. But whenever they did see him, it usually meant that there was something important about to happen.
The thirteen boys, no matter how tired they were, stood and lined up in front of the manager. They bowed in unison before standing expectantly, waiting to hear what kind of news they would receive.
“Hello, boys,” the manager said, smiling warmly. “I’m just stopping by with Y/N here to see how practice is going. We’ve brought food for you as well.”
It was then that Minghao noticed you standing slightly behind your manager. His mind went blank as he stared at you, taking in your looks. Everything about you, your eyes, your face, your hair, your body, was a nice change from what he was used to. Living with thirteen boys meant he didn’t get a lot of girls around, and if they did come around, they weren’t too interested in him. They never said why, but Minghao suspected it was because whenever he tried to talk to them, he got nervous and fumbled with his Korean.
You bowed to the boys nervously. You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of your favourite performers. You prayed you could understand everything they said.
“Y/N, why don’t you help hand out the food?” your manager prompted you.
“Oh, right! Of course,” you said, taking the bag and handing out premade bowls of bibimbap to the boys, who were still in a line waiting. Each one of them thanked you as you handed them food.
As you handed the food to Joshua, he asked in Korean, “Korean’s not your first language, is it?”
You shook your head. “I’m not very good at it.”
“That’s okay, neither am I,” he said good-naturedly. “Thanks for the bibimbap.”
You nodded and moved down the line.
Minghao was at the very end of the line, which had given him plenty of time to sneak glances at you as you interacted with the other boys. He sighed in relief when you said you weren’t too good at Korean. It meant you wouldn’t judge him if he messed up a conjugation of a verb or something.
Finally you reached Minghao and handed him the last bowl of bibimbap. Minghao opened his mouth to say thank you, but he made the mistake of looking into your eyes while the skin of your fingers brushed his. He made eye contact with you, and that was it.
Jun and the rest of Seventeen stared at him in surprise before Minghao registered what he said. When he did, he wanted to hit his head against a wall. He had just told you he loved you. In Chinese.
Way to go, Minghao, you’ve done it now, he thought bitterly.
You froze, worried because you didn’t understand the word. “Pardon?”
It occurred to Minghao that you must not speak Chinese. Thinking as quickly as his brain would allow, he switched to Korean. “Um, I’m sorry, I’m tired, I didn’t mean to say it so soon. My brain switches to Chinese when I’m tired.”
“That’s okay, but…” you gathered your courage and continued, “What did you say in Chinese?”
Minghao’s ears burned bright red as he turned the bowl of bibimbap in his hands.
Jun jumped in just before the silence got uncomfortable. “He said he lo-”
Minghao elbowed Jun sharply in the ribs. “Jun, no.”
Jun smiled and backed away, hands up in a sign of retreat. The rest of Seventeen gathered around Jun, who whispered Minghao’s words to the group of them. The twelve of them stared at you and Minghao expectantly. All of their looks were silently screaming say it.
Minghao sighed and pushed the hair away from his face again. “I said…” He suddenly got shy and ducked his head. “I said I love you.”
“Oh.” Then it registered that he had been talking to you. “Oh. You love me?”
Minghao’s neck was flushed. “Yeah.”
It was silent for a bit before you said, “Well, I’d love to be able to say it back, but… right now, I can’t.”
Minghao felt his heart drop. He knew it. He fucked up.
“But… if you give me your number, maybe I can meet up with you again and tell you then?”
Suddenly Minghao was soaring. He didn’t remember exchanging numbers, but by the smile you gave him when you left the practice room was enough to keep him going throughout the whole night.