pepperoni eyes

Hi my name is Pizza Hut Guy and I have long real Pizza hair (that’s how I got my name) with greasy streaks and greasy tips that reaches my mid-back and warm pepperoni eyes like pepperoni and a lot of people tell me I act like a complete buffoon. I’m not related to the Carney brothers but I wish I was because they’re major fucking hotties. I’m a Pizza Hut customer service rep but my teeth are about as crooked as my sexuality. I have cheesy orange skin. I’m also an asshole, and harass random idiots on the Internet despite being a minor (It’s my main hobby). I’m a Pizza Hut customer service rep and I wear mostly my Pizza Hut uniform. I love Pizza Hut. Today I was wearing a Pizza Hut corset with matching lace around it and a black Pizza Hut miniskirt, Pizza Hut fishnets and black Pizza Hut boots. I was wearing marinara lipstick, cheesy foundation, black olive eyeliner and red pepper eye shadow. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I wasn’t very happy about because it was harder to deliver pizzas in. Some idiots said I wasn’t a real Pizza Hut customer service rep. I put up my middle finger at them.

Fuck it.
—  Me, as I’m about to search my OTPs tag
One Year

Requests: “kol eating y/n out??”

You swung your door open to reveal Kol standing on your doorstep with his wicked grin and flowers in his hand. You blushed and pushed your large framed glasses up your nose. Kol stepped inside, closing the door behind him and pecking you on the cheek and then handing you the flowers. You sniffed them and blushed again, it seemed like a rather expensive bouquet. 

“Happy one year.” You beamed up at him, and in return, he kissed you sweetly on the lips. To this day you wonder how Kol could have any mortal he wanted and chose you. It had been the best year of your life, explaining family problems to each other and he revealed his biggest secret to you. Despite him being a thousand years old, you trusted him with your life. 

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Pepperoni Story

<p>When I was like 7 or 8, I was in the car with my brother and we were eating pepperoni. I thought it would be funny if I put pepperoni on my eyes like people do you cucumber slices and then I pretended to be hurt due to the pepperoni being spicy but then my eyes starting actually stinging and I started shrieking but my family was just laughing at me and my agony and that is how I burned my eyes with slices of pepperoni</p>

3

(x), (x), (x), (rhett ver.)

Miss You

Could you write a one shot where Matthew Gubler and the reader have a two toddlers, and Matthew is away working on a project while on the Criminal Minds hiatus. In the morning she sets up a video chat for herself and the kids with Matthew, and it starts out good but the kids get restless wanting Matthew to be home. Matthew drops the project gets home in time to help her get the kids to calm down and sleep. Thanks :)

Originally posted by drgublerr

“Come on, kids!” you yell behind you, opening up your Skype application on your new laptop as you hear something crash to the floor.

“Brandon!  Bradley!  Get in here now!” you roar.

Hearing Matthew’s call ring through, you smile as you press the green answer button, taking in a deep breath before wiping the stray tendrils of hair out of your eyes.

“There she is,” Matthew muses, his smile broad as you hear the kids finally come running.

“Daddy!” the yell, clamoring up onto your lap as you roll your eyes and giggle.

“Hey, guys!” Matthew says, his eyes wide and his lips giggling.

“We miss you, Daddy!” Bradley says.

“I miss you too, Bray,” Matthew muses.

“What about me, Dad!?” Brandon yells.

“Of course I miss you, too, big guy!” Matthew exclaims.

“What about mom?  Does mom miss me?” Matthew smirks, a smile crawling across your cheeks as the boys continue to roll around in your lap.

“I miss you so much,” you breathe, trying to keep your tears at bay as you give him a plastered smile.

“They giving you that much trouble?” Matthew chuckles lightly.

“Not at all.  They’re only your twin boys,” you snark playfully.

You had gotten pregnant with Brandon and Bradley just under a year into your relationship, and hadn’t married until the boys were almost two.  And while you were incredibly supportive of Matthew and his career…feeling fortunate for the ability to stay home and raise your boys…you had to admit that you were struggling more on your own as they became older.

“We want Daddy!  We want Daddy!  We want Daddy!” the boys begin to chant.

“Settle down, you guys,” Matthew coos as he leans into the camera and gives the boys kisses, “I’ll be home soon enough.  I promise.”

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeen, though?” Bradley whines.

“In a few weeks,” Matthew asks.

“No fair,” Brandon pouts.

And you knew how they felt.  Dealing with the tyrants for a few more weeks by yourself even made you want to pout.

“Alright, boys.  Let mommy talk to daddy for a second,” you muse as you scoot them to the floor.

Watching as the boys run off, you scoot yourself closer to the camera as you plant a kiss right on the picture.

“I miss you so much,” you muse.

“I miss you, too,” Matthew muses lowly.

“How’s the project comin’?” you ask.

But he didn’t get to answer before you heard a thump.

“Bradley!  Get off your brother!” you yell behind you.

“How’d you know it was Bray?” Matthew asks.

“Their thumps sound different,” you muse.

And then?  Another thump.

“Brandon!  Stop retaliating on your brother!” you roar behind you, turning your head as Matthew shakes his.

“It’s amazing what you can pinpoint,” he muses in awe.

“Call it mother’s-”

But you were interrupted by the boys running through the kitchen, screaming after each other as you sigh and put your head in your hands.

“Hold on one second, handsome,” you muse.

“No problem, beautiful,” he says.

“Beautiful my ass,” you murmur to yourself, causing Matthew to furrow his brow as your sweat-panted hips sway away from the screen.

“Alright, you two,” you say, grasping Bradley’s belt loop as you pull him away from Brandon, “to your rooms.”

“No, mom!  We’re sorry!”

“No, no, no!  I wanna talk to daddy!”

“Well you should’ve thought of that before you thought about not listening!” you huff, dragging the boys upstairs as they begin kicking and screaming.

“No, mom!  Stop!  We wanna talk to daddy, too!”

“Mom, please!  Please stop being so mean!”

Drudging yourself up the steps, you completely forget that Matthew is on the computer screen watching everything as your back tenses.

Letting go of the boys as you crouch to their level, you grasp their arms as you look them in their salty eyes.

“I can’t do anything about that!” you breathlessly exclaim, “I can’t do anything about the fact that daddy isn’t here!  I can’t do anything about the fact that I have to be the fun one and the bad one!  But what you can do is start listening!  Your father being away isn’t an excuse to act out!  Being bad doesn’t get you dad any sooner!”

Panting lightly as you lower your head, you take in a deep breath through your nose, oblivious to the shuffling sounds behind you on the computer as Matthew begins to gather his stuff around his hotel room.

“Now, the two of you have to go to your rooms, as you can talk to Dad whenever the two of you are ready to behave when he is on camera,” you coo, taking their hands within yours as you lead them to their rooms, your heart breaking as you listen to them sniffle and murmur about how they wish Daddy was home because they hate mommy.

Closing their doors as you place your back against the wall, you put your hand to your mouth to silence your sobs, your shoulders slumping in defeat as you slowly trudge your way back downstairs.

But as your eyes lift towards the computer screen, all you are met with was the Skype chat.

Matthew had cut the call.

Going over to the screen, your fingers fly across the keyboard, sending him a light apology and telling him to Skype again whenever he can…that your laptop would be on all day.

You hated this.

But who were you to say anything?

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

The rest of the day was spent running around with the boys outside, jumping in the sprinklers and rolling around in the dirt.

It helped you all to get your mind off of the fact that Matthew hadn’t called back yet today.

“Who wants pizza!?” you squeal, holding your arms out as your beautiful boys, with hair like their father and eyes bright like yours, come barreling into your arms and giving you big hugs.

“We love you so much, Mommy,” they say, making you feel warm inside as you hold them extra close.

“Mommy loves you, too.  So, so much,” you whisper, squeezing them tight before letting them go.

“Now, who wants what on their pizza!?” you exclaim.

“Cheese!” Bradley yells.

“Hamburger!” Brandon squeals in delight.

“Pepperoni!” Matthew exclaims.

Feeling your eyes widen as you stand up and whip around, your body dripping with water as your tank-top clings to your body, your jaw unhinges as you stand up and turn around, getting a glimpse of the boys running towards their father as he bends down and holds his arms out wide.

“Daddy!!!!!!” the yell, barreling him over as he falls onto his butt, his face being smothered in wet, stinky baby boy kisses as he laughs alongside his sons.

“Hey, you guys!” he says through his giggles.

But all you could do was stare wide-eyed.

Laughing as he gets up off of the ground, he fluffs their hair with his hands as his eyes slowly pan over to your astounded gaze.

Your husband.

Your beloved, hard-working husband, was home.

Watching him as he walks towards you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body, your hands slowly sliding up his arms as your eyes connect with his.

“How are you-?”

“You sounded this morning like you could’ve used some help,” he says lowly, his eyes staring at you intently as tears begin to well behind them.

“We’ve missed you so much,” you whisper, trying to keep your emotions at bay as the boys begin to giggle behind the two of you.

“You said something on that phone call that really startled me,” Matthew says.

As your mind reels with the episode this morning, you feel Matthew press his lips to the tip of your nose as your eyes flutter closed.

“You said that you weren’t beautiful,” he murmurs lowly.

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his.

“And that’s just not true,” he whispers, his lips lightly pressing against yours in a cool kiss as a tear makes its way down the side of your face.

“It’s hard to feel that way sometimes, but it’s alright,” you say as the boys begin to chitter again behind you two.

“No,” Matthew says as he brings his hand to your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “it’s not.”

“And we are changing that feeling tonight,” he says, his voice low and full of want as you feel his arms slowly run themselves up and down your wet back.

And just as your jaw began to tremble with so many different emotions, you hear the boys begin to squeal as Matthew’s back is hit with a large stream of water from the water hose, your body instinctively backing up as your jaw unhinges, laughter thumping its way from your throat as Matthew clenches his eyes shut.

The boys had soaked their father.

“Daddy’s wet now, too!” Bradley exclaims as he aims the hose at you.

“No no no no NO!” you roar, holding your arms up as the boys begin to douse you in water.

“Yaaaaaaaay!” Brandon exclaims just before Bradley trains the hose on his brother.

“Hey!  Not fair!” Brandon says as Bradley’s laughter rises above everyone else’s.

“Come ‘ere, you little booger!” Matthew says, scooping up his son in his arms as the hose goes plummeting to the ground, Matthew playfully eating at Bradley’s stomach as Brandon picks the hose back up and begins to soak his brother in his father’s arm.

“Gotcha!” Brandon roars as you cover your mouth.

Everyone was absolutely soaked.

“Alright,” Matthew says through light pants as he sets his son down, “now I’m really ready for pizza.”

“Pizza!!!!” the boys exclaim as they go running back into the house soaking wet.

And as Matthew pans his loving gaze back over to you, your lips parting to welcome him home once more, you hear a crash in the kitchen as you open your mouth to roar at the boys.

“I got this one,” Matthew whispers as your eyes dart quickly back to him.

“Boys!” he warns as he begins to walk towards the house, “it’s time we had a very serious talk about not running in the house!”

“This kinda tastes like Pastabilities pizza” she said with a small sigh, she missed the small Italian resturant. It wasn’t ever much to look at but it had good food. “Where’d you even get this?” Mae said while looking up from her slice of pepperoni pizza, meeting eyes with her lover across the table.

Hurt/Comfort

Dean’s kicking himself. What made him think that Castiel was prepared to manage human life alone? He should have guessed, based on Castiel’s lack of knowledge of customs and culture that a lack of knowledge of basic survival instincts followed.

But he didn’t think about it.

Hell, he didn’t want to think about that possibility, not while he was sending Cas out the door with nothing but a shitty backpack crammed with a shitty toothbrush and a shitty travel sized toothpaste and a pair of old shitty clothes. He’d crammed $50.13, all the spare change laying around the Bunker, into Cas’ free hand and then booted the ex-angel out the door without a second thought.

Of course he didn’t want to think about how ill equipped Cas would be when he didn’t even bother to equip him well.

Now, with Castiel by his side, Dean is noticing just how much is wrong. At first glance, he’d assumed Cas had pulled himself together fine. Cas has new clothes, he has a job, he even seems slightly up to date on sporting statistics. (The latter, Dean learns, is merely a side-effect of the radio playing at the gas station). But there are little things that are starting to stick out.

First is the way Cas looks at food. Dean’s seen that look on Sam before when their father had left them for weeks at a time without enough to eat. Then, there’s the way Cas flinches when Dean gets close. And the fact Castiel has never once directly answered Dean’s queries on where he lives.

The worst thing, though, is just how distraught Castiel gets when he breaks his wrist. Of course, Cas is still coping with the fact he can now feel pain, but it goes deeper. “I won’t be able to lift the heavy boxes in the storage room,” he mutters through gritted teeth when Dean asks, “I won’t be able to work at the gas station. And if I can’t work there…”

Tears prick Castiel’s eyes and Dean feels himself sinking into his seat with guilt. “You can come with me,” Dean says, staring at the steering wheel. “I’ll take care of you.”

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Personal & the Pizzas - Pepperoni Eyes