requesting cheese

8

Anon request dump! The hamburr drawing is based off this very lovely post by @wildflowers-and-a-nap (though I completely butchered the flowers pleaseforgivemeWild ;3;)

4

Phone Wallpapers - Park Hae Jin pt.2

Requested by @mazidah503 - just in time for Man to Man ; u ; 

Tales from a Summer at an Amusement Park Food Line

- While attempting to close on my very first shift, I accidentally dropped an entire container of Italian dressing on the floor. Most of it went into my socks. It made for a very unpleasant ride home.

- The line I worked in served personal pan pizzas, club wraps, carved turkey sandwiches, salads (side salads as well as Mediterranean salads), very large pickles, and a variety of desserts made in store. We were allowed to alter recipes as people requested, within reason. One person requested a pizza without sauce. I respected her decision. A surprising number of people requested pizzas without cheese. I questioned theirs, especially since they got pepperoni.

- We offered a gluten-free pizza that took twenty minutes to cook (ordinary pizzas took five). There was one man I came to recognize who showed up at least every other week to order a gluten-free pizza. I very much hope that he had a season’s pass, or he was spending upwards of $70 a week for the privilege of waiting on a pizza.

- A child came in with his parents one day and they began asking about the ingredients in all our food. As my coworker began to answer, I stopped him and asked if this were an allergy question; when told yes, I asked them to wait and went to hunt down a manager, as company policy stated that only managers or higher could answer questions regarding allergies. My coworkers did not understand why I was wasting people’s time like this. I attempted to explain to them that I had no desire to kill a seven-year-old because I thought I knew better than the allergen manual. They continued to ridicule me. The mother made a point of thanking me in front of my supervisor when she arrived for apparently being the only person who was concerned about the well-being of her child, who was evidently allergic to everything.

- This was far from the only argument I had with my coworkers about allergen safety. I fear for the customers.

- A man came into my line one afternoon, looked at me, looked at the salads, looked at me, looked at the salads again, looked at me, pointed directly at the salads, and said, “You sell salads?” I expended every ounce of willpower I had left not to respond, “No, sir, those are small ornamental shrubbery.”

- Victoria Justice came to give a concert at our park one afternoon. I have never heard any of her music, but between the fact that she was apparently an elitist bully to the ride attendants (and other guests) when she was enjoying her day at the park and the fact that the park was sold out that day with mostly girls under the age of twelve, all of whom wanted pizza for lunch, I have decided that I hate her.

- A couple came through my line. We recognized each other. They were parishioners at the church I had worked for prior to the amusement park. I left the church because I was fired in a very underhanded and unprofessional manner. I cheerfully told them to say hello to everybody for me. They left very quickly.

- Part of our job was to engage any guests waiting in line in conversation, especially the children. I was exceptionally good at this part of my job. My coworkers were either in awe or jealous.

- The number of people who did not understand that I did not have their special orders ready before they thought to order them was mind-boggling.

- A toddler came into my line and began chattering with me. This would not have been unusual, except that his parents were nowhere in sight, nor was any other adult, as they were all in the other room watching the show. I leaned as far over the counter as I could to keep the little guy talking and in sight until an adult came to take responsibility for him. To this day, I sincerely hope that the adult who came for him was actually his mother.

- While attempting to close down our second line, I used one of the four doors to the small refrigerator cases to support myself as I pushed myself from a squatting position to a standing one. I ripped the door off its top hinge.

- My coworker made a joke one night about something she would like to do. I explained how it would be possible. Her eyes filled with fear. I had to explain that I am a writer and had done research for a mystery novel and that I have not, in fact, ever cut someone’s feet off at the ankles with a cake knife.

- I became somewhat well-known among my coworkers for knowing all the words to the songs in the shows that went on in the dining area while we were cooking/serving. Strangely enough, my coworkers were less confused as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew ‘80s pop songs than they were as to how I, a 23-year-old, knew German drinking songs.

- Three days before the end of the summer, having been friends with one particular colleague for nearly five months, I had to pull out my ID to prove to her that I was in my twenties and not, in fact, nineteen.

anonymous asked:

Jefferson/mac and cheese: date

Thomas Jefferson believed in partaking in only the finer things in life. When you do something, it must be an experience, or nothing will ever be truly appreciated. 

“Oh now, honey, stop,” Thomas chuckled one night, fluffing his freshly washed hair, “You are just too funny.” 

The Virginian had spent all evening working on the romantic setting. He had set the table, lit the candles, and had slow jazz playing softly in the background. Sighing to himself, he rested his chin in his hands as he stared across the table. 

“What did I ever do to deserve something as beautiful as you?” he smiled, batting his eyelashes, “God, I could kiss you.” He bit his lip. “In fact, I will.” Across the table, the ceramic bowl of mac and cheese sat, unmoving. 

“Oh, you gon’ play?” Thomas smirked, giving a little growl, “Okay, I can be salty too.” Reaching over, he shook some salt onto the bowl of pasta, and turned away with his arms crossed. After a moment, he bit his fist, squeezing his eyes shut. “Shit, I just want you so bad, I can’t even last a second.” 

Getting up and clearing all the cutlery off the table in one loud push, he picked up the bowl, and set it on the edge of the couch arm. He took a fork and patted the crusty, aromatic top.

“Mmmm, lovely…” he murmured, admiring the cheesy noodles, the baked layer on top that had his mouth watering and heart pounding. Bringing the fork down a second time, he smacked the noddles with it a little harder. “Mmm yeah, you like that, you like it when daddy spanks you like that?” 

Picking up the bowl and tossing the fork aside with a loud clatter and the sound of a glass shattering, he sucked only the edge of a noodle into his mouth, relishing the flavour and savoury slide of it between his lips. As he swallowed the cheesy goodness and left the noddle naked of its cheese with the others, he moaned a little, gazing down at the pasta with lust-filled eyes and twirling around his living room. 

“You’re driving me wild, sugar,” Thomas breathed, discarding his jacket and trailing a finger through the gooey sauce to lick off. Moaning again, he took off his shirt and pants so that he was only in his boxers, laid down on the couch with the bowl overtop of him, and finally reached the fork up to his mouth for the first sensual, beautiful bite- 

The doorknob turned, and the front door opened. James set his keys down, looked up to see Thomas sprawled, half naked across the sofa with a bowl of macaroni and cheese in his lap… then he turned, picked up his keys again, and left. 

Emotional mess.

Based off of #80 prompt found here

“Why did I marry you?” - “It took a lot of convincing.”

Shawn Master List found HERE



The last week you have been what Shawn would say, ’an emotional fucking mess.’

You have not wanted to be touched, your body being sensitive to Shawn’s fingertips, everything about him has just put you off, caused you to want to curl up in the blankets and whimper noiselessly to yourself. There has been nothing he has done this week that has not set you off into an emotional state of abrupt tears or a rage of angry emotions that neither of you knew you were capable of harbouring.

He has taken it half-heartedly, not really taken anything you say to heart, after all, he knows that it is probably just a stressful time for you. You got a new job that has been working you half to death, he announced a new tour and is set to leave in a month, and to top it off, your emotions have caused you to argue him more times this week than in the last six months.

You hear the front door open and close, the sound of plastic bags rustling as you peek over the edge of the couch. You force your exhausted body off the couch, shuffling towards the kitchen where Shawn has just put the Groceries up on the counter top.

He flashes you his typical smile, his hands already digging into the plastic bags full of groceries, “Hey, I just got off the phone with my sister, she wants to spend the night tomorrow.” He announces, earning himself a smile in return.

You absolutely love when his sister spends the night, you get to do all the girly things you usually do on your own, like painting nails, watching chick-flicks, and gossiping about the latest episode of the Netflix series you and Alliyah follow.                                                              

“Sounds great, did you get dinner? I am starving.” You question, your own hands beginning to dig into the bags to help him with putting away groceries.              

“Uh, you said you weren’t hungry so I assumed that was you telling me not to bother with dinner.” He glances at you with a bit of a grim expression, biting his lip as if he is treading on egg shells.

Keep reading

Chess Battle [Tim Drake x Reader]

@schninner requested: “SWEET CHEESE REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Okay, so could you do one with my boy Tim and his S/O where they’re in a really intence chess match, to a point where they’re almost roleplaying the pawns and shtuff? Please and thank you! 😁 (BTW, YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!)″

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 740

WANT TO BE TAGGED?

MASTERLIST


You stared at your boyfriend of two years with intense eyes, watching him like a hawk. You studied his every move, how his eyes darted from one direction to another, how he grazed his teeth against his lips, how his fingers continued it’s rhythmic tapping against the wooden arm of the chair. He was deep in thought, challenged, perhaps struggling.

A sense of pride rippled through your system.

After another minute full of tension, Tim finally made his decision and moved the white Knight piece to a different position on the chess board on the table in front of him.

Now it was your turn to think.

You surveyed the battlefield with the eyes of a veteran. After all, you were the reigning champion of the annual chess competition in Gotham City, you weren’t going to lose to anyone, even if that someone happened to be one of the greatest tacticians and possessed one of the greatest minds the world had ever encountered. Tim Drake was a force to be reckoned with, but so were you.

With a slight smirk, you moved your Bishop and destroyed his Knight. You weren’t very subtle or modest about it either, you slammed the piece to the side, causing it to practically fly across the room. Tim gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if the action had physically pained him.

No!” he cried, staring at the piece with despair. He then turned to you with a fiery glare. “You will pay.”

You simply leaned back and crossed your arms. “Oh I’d like to see you try Drake.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at you menacingly before quickly calculating his next moves. He moved his Queen, taking out your precious Knight with a flick of his hand.

“This is for my fallen brother!” he cried, slamming the piece off the chessboard. Your eyes widened at the action and you slammed your hands against the table, standing up and glaring at your boyfriend.

“Oh it is on!”

It was complete havoc, to say the least. You and Tim began to order the pieces around while moving them, acting as their leader. When one took another out, it wasn’t just a mere, meager act, it was a glorious battle between the chess pieces. You yelled and cried and defended your King with all your might, as did Tim. In no time at all, you two were acting out all the pieces and any battles that occurred.

Aha!” Tim exclaimed with a smug smile, “check. What are you going to do now, [L/N]?”

You closed your eyes, rearranging your thoughts and thinking of all the possible moves you could make, and what he may do. You knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, you knew his moves. You just needed to know which move he’ll make.

With a sharp inhale, you took a risk and moved your Queen to an exposed position, destroying his Bishop in the process.

“You think you can win? Against me?” you asked with raised brows. “How dare you even threaten my King?” You made your tone a little more sophisticated to match that of a Queen, like the piece you moved.

Tim gritted his teeth and shook his head, not allowing you to win. There was no way he was going to lose.

“You have slain many of my brothers and sisters,” he began quietly, in a dangerous calm, “but I will have my revenge when I obliterate your kingdom, and your cowardly King!”

This went on for another twenty minutes before finally, Tim got the upper hand and won. You buried your face in your hands as you fell to your knees and cried out. Meanwhile, Tim stood on top of the table, waving his arms up in the air as if addressing a cheering crowd.

“Mark my word,” you muttered, glaring up at him, “the [L/N] House will return. We will not forget this day.”

“Then we will have yet another chance to crush you and prove once and for all that it is the Drake House that is the superior one.” Tim responded in a pompous voice, before bursting into laughter. Soon you joined in, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all.

It was a strange sight indeed, especially for Damian who had entered the room seconds later, only to walk back out muttering how he needed to contact Arkham Asylum for two new cases.

to you, i thee wed (chapter 8)

They didn’t know they were marrying each other until the bride got to the altar. And then panic ensued. Married at First Sight AU.

(AO3//FF.net)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

WC: 7.6K

Thank you so much @sarahcada and @booksfullofme for the lovely edits!


“I told you,” Tikki gloats. “Ladybugs and Chat Noirs usually do end up getting married.”

“Uh-huh, Tikki.”

“It’s true, Plagg! Look, isn’t this about the third time I’ve been right?”

“Sure is,” he mutters.

Tikki beams and pats the top of his head. “Don’t worry, Plagg. We still have the reveal and I’m betting on your boy to spill the beans!”

Plagg laughs and shakes his head. “You’re on, you crazy thing. Though I bet Ladybug is way more brazen. Adrien, well–he’s only brave if he’s with me. Your girl is always brave it seems.”  

Tikki grins proudly. “That she is. That she is.”


Marinette only opens the bedroom door a fraction before checking the hallway again to make sure the coast is clear. Looking to her left, then her right, she’s positive she’s alone as she hears nothing aside from the chatter in the kitchen floating up the stairs. Relief pours through her as she enters the bedroom.

Keep reading

You’re Cute || Minghao || Oneshot

Originally posted by softsnuper


GENRE: fluff, minghao!au, trains, late-night-rubbish-writes, oneshot, request

WORDS: 1224

REQUEST: Could you do either 18 or 22 pls. And if I can ask for Minghao pls or not whatever you decide c:” + “For the aus that we never asked for. Number 22 please, because that situation’s extremely embarrassing but cute 😂”

#22: “we go on the same train every day and i complain about how hot you are to my friend thinking that you don’t speak english except once you were like ‘honestly you’re pretty damn fine yourself’ oh my fucking GO D” au


“Dude. Dude dude!”

“What?”

“Dude look!”

“What, where?”

“DUDE!”

“WHAT!” your friend roared, pulling her arm away. You didn’t realize you had been shaking her shoulder this whole time. You pointedly excitedly into the train.

“Look! It’s him!”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes. “The same guy I’ve been telling you about! Train boy! The really hot one!”

Her gaze followed yours into the train and you both watched as the guy put on his headphones, scrolling through songs on his phone. In those few seconds before the doors opened, you noticed everything about him.

His side-swept brown hair. The doe-like eyes. His casual sitting posture; leaned back and legs opened wide. There was a slight smirk on his lips.

The doors opened and you hurried inside, dragging your friend to stand right in front of him.

“Dude what are you doing?” your friend scolded. “I know you – you’re going to be fangirling over him the whole ride. Why are we standing here!”

You noticed she had switched to speaking in Mandarin. “You don’t have to do that you know. He’s wearing headphones.”

“So?”

“So that means we can speak about him freely and he won’t hear us, duh.”

In front of you the boy laughed at something on his phone. You liked the way he laughed; it was more like a giggle and he would throw his head back happily each time. It made you smile yourself.

“Yah, stop looking at him like that,” your friend snapped her fingers in front you. “That’s creepy!”

“I can’t help it, he’s so cute.”

“YAH–”

“Would you look at his arms! Look at those veins. Do you think he works out?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know maybe he breaks.”

“Like break dance?” you gasped. “That’s so cool! That would explain why he’s always in those dance clothes. He’s always sweaty in on Tuesdays, Thursday and Saturdays.”

“You are a stalker.”

“Just observant.”

Your eyes flit back to the boy. Today he had on a little silver earring on his right ear – usually he wore earrings on both but you figured he looked better with just the one. “Dude he looks so badass today.”

“Creep.”

“Look at the earring! He looks so good like that holy crap.” Almost like he heard you, the boy touched his ear. “He usually wears both but he looks really good with just one. It makes him look like a gang leader.”

“Again, you’re a creep.”

“Is it weird that I want to run my hand through his hair?”

“Yes?”

“SHIT HE’S POUTING! DON’T DO THAT! THAT’S TOO CUTE!”

“Y/N shut up!” your friend clamped her hand over your mouth. “You were squealing. Squealing!

“I can’t help it he’s so cute.”

“People are STARING!”

“Why are they staring at me? They should stare at this beautiful that’s right in front of me.”

Admittedly your fangirling today was really bad, especially since you didn’t have to struggle to use Mandarin so he wouldn’t understand what you were saying. On other days you would usually just throw some compliments about how hot he was – he was really hot – but right now, the boy in front of you was giving you too many reasons to appreciate his beauty.

He kept pushing his hair back with his hands and grinning right on cue. And that little dimple over his lip kept making an appearance…

As the train travelled on, more people started leaving than entering. You got a seat directly opposite the boy right after your friend left and spent the rest of your time shooting subtle looks his way. Since you lived at the very end of the line the train was practically empty a few stations before your stop.

You waited for the boy to get off: His station was five stops before yours. The train doors opened and closed but he didn’t leave.

You looked up curiously.

…And found him staring back at you.

Your eyes widened.

There was a half-smirk on his lips and a playful glint in his eyes. He stood up and took off his headphones, crossing the width of the train and sitting down in the empty spot next to you. His gaze didn’t leave yours.

Nǐ jīntiān hǎo ma? How are you today?”

You blushed furiously. “Wǒ hěn hǎo, xièxiè nǐ.”

“Do you know what these are?” he asked, continuing to speak in Mandarin. He pointed to his headphones.

“Headphones.”

“Do you know what they’re good for?”

“Listening to music?”

“Ah,” he held up a finger, grinning devilishly. “You’re half-right. But they’re especially good for pretending to listen to music.”

Your blush deepened. “What exactly are you saying here?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m saying.” He leaned forward, eyes dancing. You refused to meet his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the up-turned curve of his lips.

He moved back, crossing his arms casually.

“You probably don’t know this – or do you? – but I’m a student here from China. Chinese national through and through.” He turned back to you. “In other words, you need to brush up on your pronunciation my friend or you’ll never be understood by a native.”

“Don’t wanna be understood by a native,” you pouted.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Don’t say that!”

“If I recall, you’re the one who said that, about me.” He was grinning widely.

“You’re enjoying this!”

“Of course! I can’t help it that you look really cute today.”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“You know what.”

“What?”

“This!” you waved your arms wildly. He laughed, copying your actions. “What? What is this?”

“This teasing! You’re flirting! I can tell; you’re definitely flirting.”

“You like it.”

“No, I don’t!”

“You do. You’re so red,” he reached out and pinched your cheek. “Look, your ears are turning red!”

“Oh my god stop it!”

“Ahhh you’re really cute!” he dodged as you tried to swipe him. “I don’t know why I didn’t do this earlier. You’re like a little puppy!”

“You weren’t actually laughing at your phone just now, were you? You were laughing at me freaking out about you.”

“Pretty much,” he smirked.

You groaned, embarrassed. You tried to hide your face in your hands but he wouldn’t let you. He kept using your hair to tickle your ears so you would have to look up and stop him, then he’d be pinching your cheeks again. He wouldn’t stop saying how cute you were.

“What even is your name!” you complained.

He chuckled. “Minghao. And yours?”

“Y/N.”

He grinned, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “Y/N I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

You groaned. “This sucks. I didn’t know you were this annoying. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“And deny me of your adorable thoughts? Never!”

“I can’t believe I said all those things! And you could hear and understand them! This whole time!”

“They made my day.”

“Hoo-ray,” you said miserably.

The train finally pulled into your stop; the last station. It had been the longest three-station ride of your life.

“Y/N, I think to commemorate the start of this friendship, you should treat me to some food.”

“Are you serious?”

“My favourite is anything that reminds me of home.”

“You’re serious.”

He beamed down at you. “We have a long time ahead of us Y/N. Let’s get to it.”


MASTERLIST