steal salad

Jamie Benn - What’s mine is yours, and what’s mine is mine.

Originally posted by puckinginsane

“Stop stealing my fruit salad!” Feat. Jamie Benn.

Author’s note: I’m from the south so I wasn’t to sure what you meant by “Fruit salad” because in the south we call fruit salad the fruit that’s in jello, but I’m going with you meant like a fruit bowl thing. If I WAS wrong, please let me know. Also, if I say “coke” I mean soda, I don’t mean I want an actually coke. Again, it’s a southern thing. -Julianne

The best thing about dating a hockey player was there was always fresh fruit lying around the house.

You grabbed a coke and the big bowl of fruit from the fridge, before climbing onto the chair. You were scrolling through your text message before you hear the front door open and in walked your wonderful boyfriend.

“Hey, babe!” You said shoving a fork full of fruit in your mouth.

“Hey, ba- what are you eating?” He eyed you.

“Nothinnnng.” You smiled trying to hide the bowl of fruit.

“What’s in the bowl then?” He egged you on as he walked closer to you.

“Umm, I don’t know.” You smiled.

“So, let me get this right, You are eating something from that bowl, but you have no clue what’s in the bowl. Correct?” He said still eyeing you.

“Ehhh YEAH!”

“OH MY GOD! You’re eating fruit.” He said fast before running to the fridge searching for his bowl of fresh fruit.

“NO!” You said smiling slyly as you shoved more fruit in your mouth.

“Stop stealing my fruit salad, woman!” He said with a smile.

“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine.” You smriked.

“That’s not even the right saying, you dork.”

“It’s mine saying.” you smiled at him.

“You’re killing me.” he chuckled as he took your fork from your hand and grabbed some fruit. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He winked


#2 - Cheek Kiss

The second time it happens, Regina is no more prepared for it than the first.

She’s walking into the station, Emma’s jacket folded over her arm and lunch for both of them in her hand. She smiles when she sees the blonde engrossed in paperwork, hoping to God that it’s those reports she’d asked for three weeks ago.

Regina stops in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the frame to watch Emma work, captivated by the little furrow on her brow and the way she’s worrying her bottom lip as her pen scribbles almost furiously against the paper, and Regina already knows she’s going to have a hard time deciphering the beloved Sheriff’s chicken scratch.

“Is that grilled cheese I smell?”

Regina snaps out of her musings, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring. The feeling melts away almost completely, though, when she sees the smile on Emma’s face at the promise of food. (She would be lying if she said she didn’t hope that smile was at least partially for her.)

“That depends,” she replies with a small smirk. “Are those the reports I asked for three weeks ago?”

She chuckled when Emma pouted and handed her the brown bag that held her favorite food.

“I still think you eat like a child.”

“You love me anyways,” Emma said confidently around a big bite of sandwich.


Regina decided to pointedly ignore the way her heart fluttered at the statement and perched herself on the edge of the desk, holding out Emma’s jacket. “You left this at the house the other night.”

Emma nodded, chewing briefly before swallowing. “I figured that’s where it was. Thanks Gina.”

There was that fluttering again.

If she hadn’t been trying so hard to ignore and bury all these odd feelings, Regina would have noticed Emma stand from her chair. She would’ve seen the blonde lean in towards her.


But all she felt was the kiss, right on the apple of her cheek.


It was soft and sweet and all too brief, the moment gone before she even has time to register that she’s been kissed.


Emma’s back in her chair, pulling two root beers out of her newly installed mini fridge and asking Regina is she’s sure she can’t pry the tops off with her teeth, wearing that smirk that makes Regina smile despite herself.

And as she pokes at her kale salad and steals a bite of Emma’s sandwich and they talk about Henry, and the town fair and how cute Neal is, Regina finds herself thinking about this kiss and the one prior, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she’ll be the one to kiss Emma next time.


“Did you bring me dessert?”

Regina rolls her eyes.


anonymous asked:

Ooh awesome!!! Tysm! I always thought that they become 100 percent more willing to do impulsive crap when they're together so maybe having a quiet secret wedding at Telma's with their friends right before their royal wedding??? Idk something like that!

Nonny you genius! I’m setting this in the same universe as my Zelda sneaks out of the Castle to go see Link fic you don’t have to have read that one first to understand this one

 This took way longer than I thought it would, and ended up being way longer than I thought it would.

 Hope you enjoy.

It took him a few months to realise it, but Link hated weddings.

Keep reading

Salad Wednesdays ~ a poem by BOY GRINDER

fuck diets,

fuck myspace,

fuck coke zero,

fuck that mindplace, 

fuck that preppy bitch, that stupid hat,

fuck that boy who called you fat,

fuck salad wednesdays. 

fuck your mum and fuck your dad,

fuck those thoughts you should never have had,

fuck your grandma and her cat,

hit those thoughts with a bat,

fuck salad wednesdays.

(pls dont hurt ur grandma)

Till We Catch Feelings pt. 2

“You speak french, right?”

TWCF Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (Modern!AU) Where Bucky and his neighbour decide to share more than uncomfortable glances when picking their mail ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). However, there’s only one rule that must not be broken: Feelings shall not be involved.

Warnings: None, maybe swearing(?

Words: 1000


Originally posted by cutegaygfs

“So… Two minutes, huh?” Bucky reminded your words while recomposing his breathing, a cocky smile plastered on his face. You were laid down next to him, eyes wide open staring at his ceiling, overwhelmed about what just happened. 

“Well, in my defence, I did last for like 2 minutes or so.” You whispered, still in shock, closing your thighs on purpose to keep feeling the sweetness he left between your legs. Heck, it’s been awhile since you had this much fun. He laughed, his hand covering his face before speaking. 

“Suck it.” He mocked, acting like a little kid. 

“I just did.” You saw the chance and you took it, surprisingly making him chuckle and blush. “Congrats, you’re officially ranked at 7 on my list.” Barnes looked at you, smirk on his lips. 

“7 out of what?”

Keep reading

  • Hates me, specifically
  • Can’t hear the word “cookie” without wheezing
  • Fucking made me think of Jim Carrey crawling into my room at night to steal my teeth
  • Stole salad from the cafeteria
  • Thinks Raul Ezpara’s voice is sexy
  • Has never once been to church besides clearly being in desperate need
  • This hellborn individual, showing me this picture, and telling me about how he slides down your chimney at night and you know he’s coming but you can’t stop him, you just wake up one morning with one scraggly yellow tooth and he has a new perfectly white tooth in his mouth

poet-the-girlsie  asked:

I remember getting back from Texas when I was 9 after seeing my family and just like sleeping for a odd amount of time but on school nights I tend to get 7-8 hours.

I went to Texas when I was younger to visit family too.
All I can remember is chasing lizards, learning about Apple Jacks for the first time in my life, and a seagull stealing my taco salad.

Request: Can you do a fic where the reader is Sam and Deans little sis and she decides to go vegetarian and Sam is fine with it but Dean hates it. So Dean gets all annoyed when they go out to dinners and she orders a salad instead of a burger, it just gets on his nerves. Just really funny and sassy, thanks :)

“I’m starving!” You exclaimed, walking into the kitchen.

“Want some bacon?” Dean asked, motioning to the plate of dead pig on the counter.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No, I’m a vegetarian. And stop trying to make me eat meat!”

“Meat is good for you!” Dean exclaimed, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Yeah, but not for the animals!” You replied, pulling down a box of cereal.

“Who cares if it’s good for the animals? They’re dead anyway!" 

"Dean, I’m a vegetarian, and I refuse to eat meat. Drop it.” You stated, annoyance laced through your words.

“Fine.” Dean sighed, turning back to his bacon. 

Your breakfast was fine until Dean sat next to you. You’d never force your beliefs on another person, but not Dean. Dean slowly shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth, and bit down, making sure it crunched deliciously. He moaned, closing his eyes and licking his lips. You were staring daggers at him. 

Dean noticed you looking at him, and he smirked. “Sorry, did you need something?”

“Only to tell you that bacon isn’t actually red. Pork bellies are actually doused with red dye and liquid smoke; God only knows how healthy that is.” You said. 

Dean slowly lowered the bacon from his mouth, and looked at it. But after only a moment he shrugged and shoved it back in his mouth. “Well it tastes delicious.”

“Not to mention that most pigs that live in industrial-” You started, just to annoy Dean.

“Alright, stop! Point made.” He grumbled.

You smiled triumphantly and finished your breakfast. You had only an hour before you and your brothers had to go on a hunt, so you decided to spend the time reading. 


You’d been in the car with Sam and Dean for over five hours. Now, you loved your brothers, but you desperately needed to get away from them. As you pulled into town you saw a sign for a diner, and your stomach rumbled. “Guys, I’m hungry,” you said, just as Dean started to follow the signs to food.

You all filed out of the car and into the diner, and were quickly seated. When looking at your menu, you glanced over all the burgers and sandwiches, and went straight to the salads. You decided to get the summer salad; with apples, pecans, and tomatoes.

“Hi! I’m Elsa, I’ll be your waitress this evening, what can I get you?” Your peppy waitress asked.

“I’ll have the bacon burger. Medium well.” Dean ordered.

“Chicken salad.” Sam replied.

“Summer salad.” You answered, then handed her the menus. She gave you all one last smile, then walked away.

“You’re so gross.” Dean said, shaking his head at you.

“Why just me? Sam ordered a salad too!” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, but Sam at least got some meat on his meal.” Dean said.

“Dean, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I’m a vegetarian! I. Will. Not. Eat. Meat!”

“You. Need. Protein.” Dean replied, punctuating his words just like you did.

“There are actually a lot of other ways to get proteins; beans, eggs, tofu.” Sam defended you.

Dean made a disgusted face. “I’m talking about real food, Sammy! Beans’ll make her fart, eggs are meat, and tofu is nasty!”

“I can eat eggs.” You said.

“But eggs are baby chickens!”

“Not really. Eggs are unfertilized, so really they were never living.” Sam explained.

“Thank you!” You exclaimed.

Dean looked like he was about to say something, but the food came, and he shut his mouth. Your salad was very good; it had just the right balance of lettuce to dressing, and the apples were fresh. The fries looked amazing, so you took one from Dean’s plate.

“Be careful! That fry could have touched meat!” Dean exclaimed with mock urgency.

You rolled your eyes and took another fry. Throughout the meal, Sam had been stealing bits of your salad, but you didn’t mind. Your salad was definitely better than his. 

“Anything else?” The waitress asked, taking your plates away.

“Pie!” You and Dean ordered at the same time, and the waitress walked away.

“I swear, if you weren’t a vegetarian, you’d just be another Dean.” Sam muttered. 

(I hope you like it!)

Ok I’m all for criticizing America, but I’m really tired of people making fun of how America has “no culture” and just “steals from other cultures” like that’s the whole fucking point of the country. It’s people from other countries coming here and bringing culture with them. You don’t get mad at salad for “stealing lettuce’s culture” or “ripping off carrots and calling them yours”. America’s nickname is the melting pot. It’s a deeply flawed country, but to say it’s devoid of culture is vastly incorrect. It has every culture, just in small pieces.