whatever your number is

12:19am: hey, it’s been a while. how are you? where have you been? are you sleeping better? are you still so lonely?

1:04am: i’m not drunk, okay? i’m not. i just miss you. that’s all, that’s all.

1:46am: just call me back, alright?

1:58am: somebody said you found somebody new. does she love you? does it hurt?

2:04am: i don’t even miss you, dammit. i don’t know what i’m doing. i don’t think about you anymore. i don’t care.

2:05am: whatever, i’m blocking your number.

2:07am: okay so i didn’t block your number. i still hate you though.

2:11am: i don’t hate you.

7:28am: sorry, i passed out. i don’t even remember what i said. can you just forget all this? can you just forget me?

—  VOICEMAILS || s.o.
Self love is obtainable...

It may seem so far away from where you are now, but I promise you can get there.

It’s not going to be easy, but it’s going to be worth it.

Imagine waking up in the morning and not looking at your stomach and thighs in disgust but instead enjoying their softness and plushiness.

Imagine sitting down and instead of constantly shifting your shirt to mask your rolls you simply do not pay the slightest bit of attention to them.

Imagine being out with friends at a restaurant and ordering whatever you feel like eating without numbers rushing through your mind trying to figure out how many calories are in it.

Self love is nourishing both your body and your mind in a way that is sustainable and brings purpose and happiness to your life. There is no need to torture yourself by restricting everything you enjoy and cutting out all forms of happiness just to obtain a certain weight or dress size. 

You can get there, you just have to try.

TalesFromRetail: "I'm just in a bad mood today"

I’ll be me and AL will be Angry Lady

I work in a pet store as a part time cashier, AL walks in

Me: “Hi! how are you?”

AL: “Hi do you have pet stairs for beds?”

Me: “Yes we do but they may not be high enough for some beds”

AL starts yelling for no reason


wow okay then? thankfully my manager was right there and offered to help her

when AL gets to the register she cuts in front of an 80 year old lady and says “sorry actually I’m next in line”

right on lady..

Me: “Do you have a <rewards card>?”

at our store customers have the option to type in their phone number to lookup their rewards card, she does this but gets halfway through her phone number (literally hitting buttons) and says

AL: “Forget it! I don’t have time to punch in a stupid phone number”

aaallriiiggghhhtttt??? hahahaha you can’t finish typing in a number? whatever then

Me: “k, your total’s going to be (high number)”

this is the best part for me.

AL literally slams her money on the counter one bill at a time. pulls out a 20, THUD, pulls another, THUD, etc etc. like some sort of tantrumming baboon child.

I give her her change and receipt and she’s gone. lol.

later asked my manager like, wtf? apparently the lady told her she was in a bad mood today while she was helping her

cool? don’t take it out on random people you infant.

By: Aqec

listen up… okay so here is an idea alright… i need someone is chill af here… we make a town. just town name, the general feel of it, if it has supernatural or not. and then boom. we start. we can make random starters with random fcs. (ofc we tell each other banned fcs and triggers beforehand) we don’t plot anything. if the starter says “i can’t do this anymore!” you can answer with, “i can’t either” and start an argument between chars or “dude it’s just a tv show” and they are friends. or whatever you want. we can make ships and enemies and freniemes and family, and whatever. we can make one liners, small paras, huge paras, snapchat, text, whatever floats your boat. no set number of chars. if you wanna have two and i wanna have twenty that’s okay. if you wanna have twenty and i wanna have two that is cool. if you wanna have whatever, we do it. like seriously if you are interested like this or im me pls okay thanks

When He Sees Me

Summary: A beautiful stranger is always at the café you work in. Your friend tries to convince you to talk to him. Things aren’t so simple.

a.k.a. - What if he breaks my heart?

Word counting: 830
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Characters: Reader, OFC, Bucky
Warnings: Just a little bit of cussing, and - if you relate to the song as much as I do - angst disguised as awkwardness (The song honestly makes me cry). Reader is afraid of loving.  Inspired by “When he sees me”, from “Waitress: The Musical”. Gif isn’t mine, but from google.

Y/B/F/N = Your best friend’s name. (Female one)
Y/N = Your name.
Y/N/N = Your nickname.

“No.” You answered your best friend, trying not to attract attention to you two in the full place.

“What? Why?

“I don’t want to.” You lied, walking around in an attempt of making her leave you alone and leaning over an empty table.

“Don’t lie to me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Go work, Y/B/F/N.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I am working, Y/N/N.”

You went back to the balcony when you saw people entering the place.

You and your best friend worked together for years now, both of you trying to survive in New York City as students.

“Okay, you know what?” You looked back at her after taking the new orders. “I can’t.”

You see: There was a beautiful stranger who always came to the café you worked. Every day, he ordered the same thing, at the same time, and left half an hour later. He was beautiful: tall, with broad shoulders, blue eyes and dark shoulder-length hair, and always wore a glove on his left hand.

In response, Y/B/F/N frowned and put her hand on her waist.

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.” You affirmed.

“And may I ask you why?” She asked, smirking.

Keep reading

|| Chanyeol!SugarDaddy || Part 1 ||

Hello! This was a request from one of our lovely followers. Don’t be afraid to leave requests. This will help learn more about what you guys want. Don’t be afraid to talk to us just to become friends. We want to be close to our followers! Thank you.

Originally posted by kaisanity

Summary: You stumble across a sugar daddy website. Since you are struggling with paying for things for college and books, you follow your friends’ advice and start to look for a sugar daddy. 

You sit on your rolling chair in fluffy white shorts and a long sweater that reached your knees. You were tapping your pencil on you forehead calculating the money you owed. You groan in frustration and pick up your phone to call your best friend, Tiffany. She recently got out of her piles of debts, faster than she should have. You wanted to get in on whatever she was doing.

 Your fingers skillfully dial Tiffany’s number. You wait until it rings four times before she finally picks up.

“Hello? Y/N? Is there an emergency.” she said, her voice laced with worry.

“No no! Umm.. I wanted to ask a question.” You say softly.

“I swear to god Y/N if you came to me to ask about the history homework, I don’t know!” She starts to scream in the phone.

“Tiffany! It’s not that! Umm… since your debt situation was cleared so fast, I want to learn how you did it.” I ask shouting back at her.

The line suddenly goes quiet.

“Hello?” I said with a softer voice this time.

“I don’t know if I want you in this business Y/N.” She said softly.

You eyes brighten with realization.

“Tiffany? Are you in the prostitution business?” You whisper into the phone as if someone was listening.

She yells through the phone and said, “NO OH MY GOD NO! I have a sugar daddy!”

“OH! Um, how did you get one?” You say as you lean back in your rolling chair.

“I used a website an-” She suddenly paused.

“You can only do this if you are truly desperate Y/N. You hear me?”

You nod and then managed to choke out a “Yes, I’m desperate!”

Tiffany hangs up and sends you the link to the website. You roll yourself back to your desk of billing and tax papers and open your computer. You type in the website onto the computer and wait for it to load. You swirl your chair around a couple of times and finally, it loads.

 You begin scrolling through the suitors.

A man that has a wife and wants to have sex on the low? That’s a definite no!

A school professor, age 30 and looking for someone under 19. Very kinky, into extreme BDSM. Not only is that a no, that’s disgusting. You feel a cold chill creep up your spine.

A CEO of a Hostess Suite just wants to spend time with someone. Likes to paint and not looking for a sexual relationship unless you want it. You tilt your head at his bio and start looking through pictures.

Woah! He’s handsome.

He looks like a decent guy and enjoys to paint too? You quickly private message him and got up to take a quick shower. You doubt this would work, after all, he could be a whole other person.

as you finish taking your steamy shower, you dry your wet locks and check the computer for the message. Surprisingly, he messaged you back.

‘Hello! I’m Chanyeol and I’m interested in meeting up with you. Come to this place and say that I sent you. See you later princess.”

You core fired up after hearing the nickname you’ve always been wanting to be called. You gulp nervously and reply to Chanyeol’s message with a,

‘I’m glad you are interested in me! I’ll stop by at 6:30 pm! See you later.’ You hit send and began to throw on some nice clothes and style your hair to impress Chanyeol.

 You walk out of your apartment, receiving a couple of compliments as you walk downstairs. You call a taxi and text Chanyeol you were on your way. Still hesitant, you decide to text Tiffany where you were arriving just in case something goes wrong.

You arrive at the hotel and you’re met with a warm breeze. You take your phone out of your purse and head towards the front desk. The man looked at you with a smile and said, “Hey miss, how may I help you?” I cough nervously and hand him my phone. “H-here, I came to meet Chanyeol.”

He tilts his head at the messages appearing in front of him. Then a sudden realization washes over him. “A-Ahh, You’re looking for Mr.Park.” He comes in front of you and offers his hand politely. “I will take you to him, he’s probably in his art studio upstairs.” 

He leads me to the elevator and pushes the button for me but he doesn’t get in the lift. I stare at him, confused. “When the elevator stops on the 15th floor, get off and turn a right and the 9th door will be your destination.” He gives me a smile and a wave. 

My palms start to sweat, all of these questions start to hurl at me. What if he gets disappointed when he meets me in person, what if he’s not at all like the profile picture? I should have thought this through and maybe did a background check on him. 

Before I could facepalm myself, I arrived at the floor. I follow the gentleman’s directions and I’m face-to-face with the 9th door on the right. I take a big gulp and gathered my courage to finally knock softly on the door. After knocking, I could hear some shuffling behind the door. 

When the door opened, I was faced with a gorgeous man with gray hair, a boyish grin, big ears and a paint-smeared face. He chuckles nervously when he opened the door with his artist smock still on. He takes it off hastily and invites me in. 

He scratches his neck and blushes slightly. His mouth kept opening and closing like a fish trying to ask you a question. He finally managed to get words out and said, “Do you want a drink?” 

You shyly shake your head, yes and he fumbles to get a cup from the kitchen. You smile at his clumsiness and then turn your attention to his artwork. You gape in awe at the fine details he put into this painting. 

You suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder, bringing you out of your daze. He hands you a glass of orange juice and beckons you to sit on the couch beside the painting. You start to sit and he focuses his attention on the art.

Confused at the meaning sugar daddy, you were wondering why he wasn’t making a move on you. “Hey, this sugar daddy thing…What exactly will I be doing?” You ask softly.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I wasn’t really looking for sex, but if you want sex I can give it to you. But I was thinking of having someone I can talk to and spend time with.” He answers honestly. You look at him surprised at the explanation and begin to relax in your seat.

You end up having a wonderful conversation with Chanyeol until it the sky grew dark. You look at the time and stand up from the couch. “Hey, Chanyeol I have to go now. When do you want me to come back?” 

He stands up and walks to his computer. “I’m going to transfer the money to your account. How does 1,500 sound?” You gasp at the amount, hoping he was joking. He chuckles at the disbelief on your face and pressed enter.

You check your phone to find $1,500 transferred to your account. He gives you a genuine smile and gives you a hug. “I really enjoyed spending time with you. Come back whenever you want, If I really need you then I will just contact you.” I nod at the suggestion and happily hug him back.

He sees me off until I get off the elevator on the 1st floor. I smile to myself as I walk out of the hotel.

What a good man.

anonymous asked:

Me: what's in your bakery bag? Every customer ever: 1/2/3 *whatever amount* Me.....what's in your bakery bag Some customers: *repeats number*

per the request of an anon, under the cut i’m going to show you how i make my gifs from scratch and what i do when making gif icons ! i don’t feel like there’s anything that special about the way i do it, but i hope it helps someone ? as always, please like and/or reblog if this is helpful to you ! please note: i used cs5, i assume it is semi-similar to other photoshop versions ! if you have any questions, feel free to ask ! this is my finished product:

Keep reading

I had this running joke with one of my TA’s (who is in the math PhD program here at UT and is a brilliant mathematician) about how hilariously bad we both are at arithmetic. One time in office hours, I said something about a 100^2 survey region, and we both sat there for way too long before saying, “10,000?” at the same time. We were so proud of ourselves for being able to multiply 100 by 100 that we high-fived before going back to trying to prove that complex sum-of-divisors functions could not return values as larges as twice the input in Z[i]. 

So, if you still think mathematicians are people who can add and multiply or whatever, please adjust your expectations, because we’re shy about that.

Where Is Thomas Jefferson?

kinda rushed, not proofread. oh well. day one. @jamiltonweek


“Welcome back to CNN. Breaking news out of France: Gilbert Durand’s claim of being the reincarnation of the Marquis de Lafayette, American Revolutionary war hero, has been confirmed by the French Department of Reincarnated Peoples. He has asked to be referred to simply as Lafayette from here on forward. Rumors that Lafayette has teamed up with Friedrich Von Steuben to promote accurate depictions of LGBT history are surfacing, and a recent twitter post from Steuben seems to confirm them, though nothing is proven.

“The Steuben Initiative has been given extreme support from reincarnate Alexander Hamilton, formerly Alex Hernandez, after he revealed the he is bisexual. He claims to not have changed his sexual orientation from his original life. Other famous figures from history have been more hesitant to support Steuben, though the Initiative has been gaining steam of late.

“The list of household names from the American Revolution still unfound is dwindling, but the search for the remaining few people is as strong as the day it started. Washington, Adams, Franklin, Madison, and many of the more famous names have been found and confirmed. But one man still eludes the public, and he will be the topic of tonight’s special:

“Where Is Thomas Jefferson?”


“Name?” Thomas asks, a sharpie in one hand and a cup in another. The latino man at the counter smirks.

“You know who I am,” he says. Thomas stifles a sigh.

“I’m sorry sir, but I need your name,” he says, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

“My name is whatever your number is,” the customer says, flashing what he must think is a flirtatious look.

“Your name, sir. Please,” Thomas says through a gritted smile. The man rolls his eyes and stands up from where he was leaning on the counter.

“Hamilton,” he says. Thomas nods, scribbling the name down on the coffee cup.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says, turning away to hand the cup to his coworker, Kyle. He can feel Hamilton’s eyes on his ass and he has to resist the urge to call him out on it. Kyle shoots him a sympathetic look as he brews Hamilton’s triple espresso. As Hamilton walks away to a table, Thomas lets out a breath.

He’d be annoyed if Hamilton’s flirting didn’t drive him so goddamned crazy.

Thomas just had to have chosen the one coffee shop in all of New York Hamilton liked better than any other to work in. Thomas wasn’t even supposed to be here, he was supposed to be a young, hot-shot lawyer rising the ranks at a blinding speed. Had he stayed in Virginia, he might have been just that. But Thomas couldn’t stay in Virginia, not if looking around at the rolling farmland made him feel as guilty as it did.

So to New York he went, only to find that no one wanted to hire a no-name Virginian law student. And here he was, a barista in the morning, a waiter in the afternoon and a bartender ar night. It was hell, but it had been fine until Hamilton walked back into his life. The universe couldn’t just let him atone for his crimes in peace, could it?

The bell signaling the door opening rang, and Thomas plastered a smile back on his face. He turned around to greet the new customer. “Hi, welcome to-”

“Laf!” Hamilton exclaims.  The new customer- tall, dark skinned with hair pulled back in a bun- turns in the short man’s direction and beams.

“Mon petit lion,” he breathes. Hamilton rockets from his seat and throws his arms around Lafayette’s middle. The taller man stumbles back under the force of Hamilton’s hug, but keeps his feet. For a moment, both men simply stand in the middle of the cafe in a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” Hamilton breathes. Lafayette chuckles.

“How did you recognize me?” Lafayette’s accent is much thinner this time around, Thomas notices, much easier to understand. Hamilton pulls back and grins up at the man.

“You’ve been on tv, you dolt. Come on, then. We gotta talk.” Hamilton grabs Lafayette by the wrist and tries to pull him back to the table Hamilton had chosen.

“I have to order, no?” Lafayette motions in Thomas’ direction. Thomas, the customer service smile still stretched across his face, suddenly feels a pang of fear. Hamilton huffs good naturedly, and lets Lafayette go. Lafayette rolls his eyes and turns back to Thomas.

“My apologies. My friend can be very excitable,” Lafayette says.

Oh I know, Thomas thinks. Out loud he says. “It’s alright sir. What can I get you today?” As Lafayette rambles off his order- something really complicated and full of caramel- Thomas tries to keep his head down as much as possible. Hamilton had never recognized him, thank god, but Lafayette was a different beast. Thomas had actually been friends with Lafayette. No matter that Thomas looked nothing like he used to.

Lafayette finishes his order and Thomas nearly forgets to ask him his name before automatically scribbling it down on the cup. Thomas stutters as he rushes the question, trying to cover for his mistake.

“Laf is fine,” Lafayette says. Thomas nods and writes the nickname down, shoving the cup in Kyle’s direction just as Kyle hands him Hamilton’s completed order.

“Hamilton,” Thomas calls out into the cafe.

“I’m right here,” Hamilton says, still standing right beside Lafayette. “You really think they’d start to remember regulars,” he grumbles to Laf in French. Thomas grits his jaw, his knowledge of languages having survived the reincarnation. Lafayette sighs and says something back, but Thomas doesn’t want to hear.

Once a stuck up shit, always a stuck up shit, Thomas thinks to himself, but it’s not completely without a fondness to it. Hamilton takes his drink from Thomas. Like always, Hamilton lets his hand brush Thomas’ and Thomas jerks his hand away like he’s been burned. Hamilton rolls his eyes and takes a drink, lips wrapping around the straw. Thomas swallows and turns away, fumbling around with one of the blenders like he’s actually working and not drowning in his own emotions.

“Come on, Laf,” Hamilton says. “Sit while they make your shit.” This time, Lafayette lets himself get led away, but not before shooting an apologetic look in Thomas direction. Thomas watches them go, Hamilton already rambling about something.

Thomas watches their conversation out of the corner of his eye, Lafayette looks excited, overjoyed to be reunited with his old friend. A ball of sadness lodges in Thomas’ stomach. Laf probably hates me now, he thinks. Everyone would. So he tries not to get caught sneaking glances at two of the most important men from his last life.

When he calls for Lafayette, the Frenchman comes up to the counter with the same easy grace he always had. When Thomas hands him his drink, he give Thomas a little knowing smile. Thomas stomach plummets, but Lafayette doesn’t say anything, just skips away back to Hamilton.

Thomas glances at the clock, ten minutes until he’s off. He breathes a sigh of relief and busies himself cleaning the countertop until the phone in his pocket buzzes. Silently cheering, Thomas runs in the back and drops off his apron. He collects his stuff quickly, tearing his poof of hair out of the hat and shaking it out. He leaves the back room just as his replacement comes in and Thomas waves goodbye to her and Kyle both.

Bag slung over one shoulder, Thomas speedwalks through the cafe, trying not look over at-

“Hey! Wait a moment!” Lafayette calls and Thomas stumbles over his own feet. He bites his lip, eyeing the front door. He doesn’t have to go over there, he really doesn’t. He can leave, no problem. “Please, just come over for a second, yes?”

It’s Lafayette, Thomas’ brain says, and Thomas sighs. He changes course, coming over to stand by the two men’s table. “If you want something, I’m off the clock,” Thomas informs them, frowning. Lafayette shakes his head.

“Alexander has something to ask you,” he purrs, looking at Hamilton with both eyebrows raised. Hamilton coughs and shifts in his seat. Thomas looks at him curiously, wanting to be anywhere but here. He catches himself staring at the man’s eyes and tries to look anywhere else.

“I uh, wanted to know,” Hamilton takes a breath, “wou-why are you such a dick?” He says, words rushing to cover up something else. Thomas starts, feeling his face arrange itself in a familiar wall of disgust. Lafayette jerks, surprise flooding his features. Hamilton keeps talking, words flooding out of his mouth like they always did. “I mean, I know you recognize me every day. I get it if you don’t like me, but why?”

“You don’t impress me,” Thomas replies, the first reason that pops to his head that won’t immediately out him. Hamilton’s brows furrow, then a look of understanding crosses his face.

“Ah, you’re one of those, are you?”

“One of who?” Thomas asks.

Hamilton scoffs. “‘It doesn’t matter who you were,’’ he mocks. “‘It only matters who you are.’ One of those people. Full of bullshit.”

“Mon ami,” Lafayette says, voice full of warning and concern. Hamilton rolls his eyes.

“You know it’s bullshit. People who say that are just jealous they never managed to do anything with their last lives.”

Lafayette’s lips purse. “Well, I’m sure his last life was perfectly good. I’m sure you were wonderful,” he says, looking up at Thomas hopefully. Thomas levels him with a glare.

“I was a slave plantation owner,” he says. Lafayette blinks, Hamilton chokes on his coffee.

“Jesus,” the shorter man coughs. “That’s not usually something people just admit.” Hamilton looks at Thomas with wide eyes. Thomas sighs.

“Yes, well, it’s true and normally gets people to shut up and leave me alone,” he says pointedly. Lafayette looks ashamed, and looks down at the table. Hamilton’s jaw grinds, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but Thomas takes this as his cue to get the hell out of there. He spins on one heel and takes off, heading for the door. He hears them start to mutter to each other in French.

“A slave owner, Laf,” Hamilton sighs.

“Well, he seems pretty repentant…” Laf trails. “It’s okay, my friend. You’ll win him in the end. You always managed to get everyone in the end.”

“Everybody but one.”

Thomas doesn’t hear anything else, just listens to his own footsteps as he starts the multi-block journey to his second job.


“You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas mutters, catching a glimpse of the group that just walked in the door. Hamilton approaches the hostess, but Thomas is too far away to hear what he’s saying. He watches, holding his breath, as Jenna pulls out three menus and leads Hamilton, Lafayette and the new addition to their group through the restaurant.

Of course she seats them right in the middle of Thomas’ tables. Just fuck me, Thomas thinks. God strike me down now. Lilly passes him with a tray of drinks and he tries to get her to take the Hamilton table, but she’s full up and Thomas has nothing to trade. So he putters about, trying to delay the inevitable. But time is passing and Hamilton is starting to look a little antsy, so Thomas bites the bullet.

“Hi, welcome to Lewis and Clark’s, my name is Thomas and I’ll be your server for today.” The usual greeting comes out in a rush. Thomas fiddles with his pen and tries not to make eye-contact. Maybe they won’t recognize him. Maybe-

“Well, look at this. It’s the unimpressed barisa!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas stifles a groan.

“Can I get you started with some drinks?” He asks, just wanting it to be over. Out of all the cosmic punishments Thomas deserves, this is not one of them.

“Lemme introduce you to James Madison,” Hamilton says, jerking his head at the third person at the table. Thomas blinks, looking up but having to hold back his excitement. It is James alright, the new James that’s still sickly and quiet looking. Hamilton chuckles at Thomas’ expression. “Impressed yet?”

Thomas fights to keep his face neutral, but being this close to Jemmy is making it difficult. James looks at him like he’s a complete stranger, which is fair, Thomas supposes, but it hurts. Instead, he clears his throat.

“Would you like something to drink? Or perhaps you’re ready to order?” He says tersely.

“James Madison, you know,” Hamilton drawls. “Fourth President of these United States? Wrote the Constitution?” Thomas breathes through his smile, just about ready to reach over and tear Hamilton’s face off.

“Let it go, Hamilton,” James breaks in, his voice just as quiet and stoic as Thomas remembers. “We’re here to discuss things.”

Hamilton frowns at him “But-”

“If you spend the entire time messing with our poor waiter, we won’t get anything done,” James says. Hamilton grumbles something and settles into his seat. Lafayette just gives Thomas another apologetic looks as they order drinks.

Thomas practically jogs away from their table, and wastes as much time as possible doing the rounds to his other tables. When he finally runs out of things to do, he drags his feet getting their sodas and bringing them to the three. As he gets closer, he can hear their conversation.

“…only wish we could find Thomas,” James sighs. Thomas swallows, feeling his chest tighten.

“Your drinks, sirs,” he says, handing Lafayette a cherry cola. He nods his thanks as Hamilton scoffs.

“Jefferson? What makes you think he’d support the Initiative?” He asks. “Of all people.”

“Yes, Hamilton.” James nods. “I don’t know about Lafayette, but I remember certain interesting conversations with Thomas.” Laf nods as Hamilton’s eyes go wide.

“Jefferson?” He asks. James nods again. Thomas tries not to glare at him as he puts down the last drink, his hands starting to shake. Lafayette looks at him in concern, but Thomas busies himself by pulling out his notepad again.

“He’d support the Initiative.”

“What if he wants to ‘protect his reputation?’”

“Thomas Jefferson has no reputation to protect, his current one people respect is based on half-truths and he should be remembered for the lying, hypocritical slave-owning cheating bastard he was.” Thomas clicks his pen, the men at the table gone silent and looking at him in shock. “Can I take your order?”

Thomas watches all three of them process what he just said. Lafayette looks like he can’t quite believe what he just heard, James looks mildly upset, but Hamilton is pissed. His face turns a familiar bright red and he scowls.

“How fucking dare you?” Hamilton spits. Thomas cocks one eyebrow, as if urging Hamilton to argue, but he’s honestly curious as to why Hamilton looks this angry. “Thomas Jefferson was one of the smartest men I ever knew.”

“Just because he was smart doesn’t mean he was a decent person,” Thomas counters. “What would you like for lunch?” Hamilton hits the table, causing the cups and silverware to rattle slightly.

“Look, Jefferson might have had some backwards ideas, owned slaves and been a general obstructionist bastard-” ah, there’s the truth, Hamilton, Thomas thinks, “-but he was also a great writer and debater and really wanted the best for his country so you can fuck off.”

Hamilton is on the verge of hyperventilating in anger, and Thomas can’t quite believe what he’s just heard. Hamilton, complimenting him? They look at each other in silence, each seemingly daring the other to speak again.

“I’ll take the reuben,” James says. Thomas breaks his staring contest with Hamilton to smile and nod. He scratches James’ order down and Lafayette follows, ordering for Hamilton when the shorter man won’t speak.

The rest of Thomas’ shift passes quietly, Hamilton glaring whenever Thomas draws near and Thomas never staying long enough to start up an argument. But something in him wants to, wants to have one last full-blown debate with Hamilton, just one last time. Like the old days, back before Thomas got a second life and realized what a piece of shit he’d been the first time around.

Hamilton doesn’t tip, but James leaves him enough to cover for it.


Thomas takes over for the last bartender, throwing a rag over his shoulder and getting into the right mindset to do his job. No more mulling over Hamilton or Laf or James. Just make some drunk people some more drinks and get out of here. Thomas manages to lose himself in the mixing of countless cocktails and pouring of beer. Some guy rambles to him about his ex-girlfriend, and Thomas pretends to care, but just lets the guy talk.

Thomas has made it halfway through his shift when he looks up and sees George Washington walk in. It’s not unusual, Washington likes this bar enough to come in regularly enough. Thomas actually doesn’t mind. He likes talking to Washington, the old general is one of the few reincarnates that doesn’t make everything about his old life.

Thomas smile falls as he watches James, Laf and Hamilton file in behind Washington. Washington leads the group over to the bar and Thomas turns around to compose himself. He lets out a breath. Today just doesn’t end, does it? He makes Washington his usual and turns around just in time to meet him.

“Thanks, Thomas,” Washington says, taking the glass of whiskey. “Get these boys whatever they like and put it on my bill.” Thomas nods, and looks down the line. When he gets to Hamilton, he scowl and look of sheer anger catches Thomas a little off guard.

“Are you serious?” Hamilton hisses. Thomas nods, shooting him a little smile. Washington looks at Hamilton questioningly, and James looks like he’s already developing a headache.

“This is the asshole who insulted Jefferson, sir!” Hamilton exclaims, pointing at Thomas. Washington looks back at Thomas, who shrugs.

“I simply spoke my mind about the man.” Thomas looks at Hamilton dead on. “Now, I’m only going to ask you once this time. What would you like to drink?” Hamilton looks like he’s about to burst into another rant, but just spits a request for a bottle of Sam Adams. The four men settle onto bar stools and get to talking. Thomas tries not to listen, but he’s too curious.

The conversation turns to Steuben’s Institute again: Madison, Laf and Hamilton all begging Washington to throw his support behind it. Washington is simply listening in silence. All three men argue the same points, and it’s starting to grate on Thomas’ nerves. It almost sounds like an old cabinet meeting, but there’s no opposing viewpoint, no debate being had.

I can rectify that, Thomas thinks, and his mouth is already working before he can talk himself out of it.

“With all due respect,” he begins, “the Steuben Initiative is nothing but a way to get a few individuals recognized for being a ‘minority’ during a time when no one but straight white men were in power. It’s a cheap gimmick to get sympathy for people who shouldn’t have any.” Thomas continues to wipe down the counter, but he sees all four heads snap in his direction. “Furthermore, Friedrich Von Steuben is a known liar and historically bad with money. The Initiative will be bankrupt within a month.”

“You sure talk a big game for someone who works three minimum wage jobs,” Hamilton fires back. “Steuben is a hero and a symbol for the gay community. If there is any person who should be the face of it, it’s him. The only other names- Achilles, Sappho, Alexander the Great, Oscar Wilde- have either died a second time or haven’t been reborn yet. And the Initiative is not a ‘cheap gimmick.’ Historical figures who were not cisgender or heterosexual but would have been shamed at the time of their life or lives deserve the recognition!”

“Deserve the recognition now that it’s socially acceptable to be out, and not actually when it would have perhaps done something good for the gay community.” Thomas doesn’t believe a goddamned word he’s saying but oh, he’s having fun. He can feel the familiar feeling of adrenaline thrumming in his veins. And Hamilton, Hamilton, he looks gorgeous like his. Riled up and passionate.

“It would do wonders for the gay community! Having proof that people have always been something other than straight and cis is amazing! Imagine being a gay youth and being able to look in a history book and point out people like you that actually did something with their lives.”

“Imagine doing that for the African American community, or the Asian American community, or any other minority group in this country!”

“Oh, so because we’re not focused on racial minorities, we shouldn’t get anything? We aren’t just focused on white historical figures. POC LGBT people are just as represented. You’d know that if you actually knew anything about the Initiative. As it stands, you’re a minimum wage worker who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And the racial minorities argument is even funnier coming from an ex-slave owner.”

Thomas stops, his hand freezing on the counter where he was halfway through making Lafayette a refill. He looks up at Hamilton. “I’ll let you know I have a law degree from UVA. And I actually support the Initiative, how could I not? I’m just doing my job, Hamilton. What I’ve always done: argue with you.” The words fall out before Thomas realizes what he’s saying. Hamilton’s face falls into one of confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. Thomas swallows.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Forget I said anything.” Thomas finished Laf’s drink and goes to walk to the other end of the bar. Hamilton lunges over the counter and grabs a hold of Thomas.

“Alex, what are you doing!” Laf exclaims. Hamilton grits his jaw and ignores him.

“What do you mean, ‘what you’ve always done?’” He repeats, asking the question through gritted teeth. Thomas kicks himself, realizing that he’s gone and ruined everything.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Let go of me, okay? It doesn’t matter.” He tries to tug his hand free but Hamilton holds on. His eyes are searching Thomas’ face, and the sight of them sends pangs of longing through Thomas. Then, Hamilton’s eyes go wide in understanding.

“A slave owner who ‘always fought with me,” he breathes. Thomas winces, shutting his eyes and waiting for it. “Thomas Jefferson,” Hamilton says.

“What?” James asks.

“Thomas motherfucking Jefferson!” Hamilton exclaims, something akin to joy in his voice. “You everloving asshole!”

“Yes, yes, be proud of yourself Hamilton. Let go of my arm, would you?” Thomas grumbles. Finally Hamilton complies, and instantly Thomas misses the physical connection.

“Thomas?” Lafayette asks, as if he still doesn’t quite believe it. Reluctantly, Thomas nods. Laf’s face lights up, a grin spreading across his face.

“I can’t believe you never said anything! I’ve been going to that cafe for months!” Hamilton bounces in his seat, and Thomas can’t help but find it endearing.

“You’ve been flirting with me for months too,” Thomas reminds him. Instantly Hamilton’s expression of happiness falls, only to be replaced with embarrassment and anger.

“I’ve been flirting with Thomas Jefferson,” he mutters, dumbstruck and seemingly disgusted. Lafayette breaks out into laughter. Washington looks slightly amused, glancing between the two of them with an odd look.

James coughs. “Thomas, if it’s really you,” he says, “explain what you meant by what you said about yourself at the restaurant.”

Thomas freezes, and suddenly the mood turns more somber. Lafayette stops laughing and all four sets of eyes are on Thomas. “I…” he hesitates, “I realized that I was a piece of human garbage last time I was alive,” he says simply. Hamilton stares at him, eyes bugging out of his head. Thomas suddenly feels uncomfortable. “Well, it was great seeing you four,” he says. “I’m going to tell my boss I’m ill and go home. Then, I’m going to quit my three jobs and move far far away from all of you.”

Hamilton blinks. “What? Why?!”

Thomas sighs, throwing the towel in his hands under the counter. “I’ve been avoiding the spotlight for twenty six years. I’m not coming forward and associating with any of you is not going to help me stay under the radar.”

“You? Avoiding attention?” Hamilton looks completely dumbstruck. Thomas nods.

“I told you, I was horrible. I don’t want to be celebrated, not when people forget about the awful shit I did. So why don’t you just let me live my life in peace?”

With that, Thomas slides out from behind the bar and walks back into the kitchen. He makes up some lie for his manager about being ill and clocks out. His manager takes his spot behind the bar, and Thomas slips out the back door. He doesn’t want to risk walking through the bar proper. Who knows what Hamilton will do.

Thomas walks out into the night air and heads around the building. A plan is already forming in his head. Call tomorrow off, apartment hunt… in Boston. Boston, or maybe somewhere out west. Yeah, I’ll go out west. Thomas leaves the sidewalk by the bar and starts to cross the parking lot. He just needs to get out of here-

“Thomas! Wait!” Hamilton calls from somewhere behind him. Thomas groans and picks up the pace, power walking away from the shorter man. He hears footsteps approaching from behind and Thomas nearly breaks out into a jog. “Thomas, just hold on a moment.”

“Go away Alexander,” Thomas mutters. He’s almost to the other side of the lot now.

“No, Thomas. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Thomas whirls on him, startling Hamilton who is almost too close to stop in time. He jumps backwards to avoid hitting Thomas straight on.

“About… about you!” Hamilton exclaims. Thomas raises one eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hamilton. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or myself, thanks.” Thomas takes a few steps backwards, hoping Hamilton won’t follow, that he’ll let Thomas go on his merry way.

“Look, Thomas, we need you.” Hamilton does follow, jogging slightly to keep up with Thomas’ long stride. He’s just as short as always. “Think about it! All the major founding fathers supporting one cause! We’ve already got Monroe and-”

“I don’t want to tell the world I’m the hypocritical fuck known as Thomas Jefferson.”

Hamilton huffs. “We all did shitty things. We do sitty things. We’re fucking human. You want a good example of a piece of shit, you’ve got one right here!” Hamilton motions up and down his body. “You do remember the Pamphlet, yeah?”

Thomas stops, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “That was my fault,” he admits. Hamilton shakes his head.

“It’s far from your fault. You didn’t make me cheat on Betsy and you didn’t make me publish the damn thing.”

“If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself, I wouldn’t have pushed you that far!” Thomas protests. Hamilton makes an exasperated noise.

“We were all wrapped up in ourselves,” Hamilton points out. “Everyone but Washington, seems like.”

For a second, they just stand there, looking at one another. Thomas sighs, and shakes his head. “Hamilton, I said no.”


“Thanks, but no thanks.” Thomas goes to turn around, but remembers one last thing. “Tell James ‘thanks’ for outing me by the way. Really appreciate that,” he mutters. And then he takes off again, stepping up the curb and onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t hear Hamilton chase him, and he thinks he’s in the clear. He turns to make his way down the street and catches a glimpse of Hamilton standing in the middle of the lot by himself. He’s looking at his fists, glaring at them like he’s trying to convince himself to punch himself in the face. Then he looks up.

“One last thing!” He calls. Thomas stops, lets out a breath, and turns to face the man.

“What, Hamilton?” He calls back. Hamilton opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again as he takes off across the parking lot. There’s determination in every quick step he takes to Thomas.

“If you’re really going to leave, and I’m never going to see you again,” Hamilton begins, “there’s just one thing I need to do first.”

Thomas feels his brow furrowing, confusion spreading across his face. Hamilton just power walks as quickly as possible, right up into Thomas’ personal space. Before Thomas can step back or ask Hamilton what this is about, Hamilton grabs Thomas’ face in both hands, pops up on his toes, and kisses him.

Thomas’ eyes widen before sliding shut as he leans into it. Hamilton gasps underneath him and Thomas slides his hand into Hamilton’s smooth hair and finally, finally, gets the chance to do what he’s been wanting to do for a very long time. They stand there, together, on the street corner, breaking apart only for quick breaths.

“You everloving asshole,” Hamilton breathes when they finally run out of steam. They sit there, faces still so impossibly close. Thomas chuckles.

“Never thought that would ever happen,” Thomas admits. Hamilton falls back onto the flats of his feet and wraps his arms around Thomas.

“You were the one person I never had, but I wanted you the most,” Hamilton says, and Thomas’ breath catches in his throat. Slowly, as if in a dream, Thomas returns the hug. “Stay?” Hamilton asks, looking up at Thomas. “Just for a while. I… I won’t make you tell anyone who you are.”

Thomas looks down at Hamilton, the one man he had always said no to, and says yes.

Hamilton’s eyes light up and Thomas’ heart leaps at the sight. He leans down for another kiss, only to be interrupted by a cough. Both Thomas and Hamilton look up to find Lafayette, Madison and Washington standing in the lot.

“You were taking a very long time. We were…” Laf trails, eyes shining in wicked joy. “Worried something had happened.”

“Something certainly did happen, I’d say,” James interjects. Thomas chuckles but catches sight of Washington’s stony expression. Instantly, he freezes. Washington blinks, and then breaks out into a smile.

“It took you boys two hundred years. I’m not saying anything.”

Hamilton blinks, then starts to laugh, his shoulders shake in Thomas’ arms and Thomas squeezes tighter.

Thomas Jefferson was found in a bar parking lot, holding Alexander Hamilton in his arms.

Draw your OC group meme.

I always see these memes for just one character so here’sone for a group of OCs to draw them interacting together and such. Draw one a day or whenever you feel like it or have your followers, friends, and anons send you numbers; whatever you like.

Feel free to use this for fanart, too.

Introduce your OCs (optional)

1.     Line them up. Let’s see their height differences.

2.     Wearing what you’re currently wearing.

3.     In formal clothes.

4.     In school uniforms.

5.     In their underwear.

6.     In swim suits.

7.     Dress for a hot summer day.

8.     Dressed for winter.

9.     Wearing ugly winter holiday sweaters.

10.   In Halloween costumes.

11.   Wearing flower crowns.

12.   Wearing silly hats.

13.   Sharing a really long scarf.

14.   In sexy armor.

15.   In practical armor.


17.   At meal time.

18.   Sleeping.

19.   Dancing.

20.   In a band. (if already in a band draw them in a different genre of music)

21.   Playing a sport.

22.   With a box of kittens.

23.   Camping.

24.   Movie night. (what movie or genre?)

25.   Game night.

26.   Reading.

27.   With action figures of themselves.

28.   At the mall.

29.   Tea time or coffee break. (or both)

30.   Building/in a fort. (made of anything you want)

31.   Running.

32.   In a water gun/balloon fight.

33.   Putting on a play.


35.   Aged up or down. (or both)

36.   As a magical girl team. (one that exists or original)

37.   As animals. (If they are animals draw them human)

38.   As RPG classes. (Warrior, Cleric, Wizard, Bard, etc. Like Dungeons and Dragons classes)

39.   Each as a ‘sona. (witchsona, gemsona, etc.)

40.   As characters from a movie.

41.   As characters from a TV show.

42.   As characters from a videogame.

43.   As stick figures.

44.   As Lego mini figures.

45.   As merfolk. (if already merfolk then as humans.)

46.   In any time period in the past.

47.   In a futuristic time period.

48.   With the rage face that fits each of them best.

49.   GROUP HUG!

50.   Draw a sequence or comic. (any length)

Spirit banishing ritual

“My mom attracted some freaky ghosts” is the beginning of almost all of my spirits stories. Even this one.

Some weird stuff was happening in our apartment, and it got a little out of control because of my laziness. The thing is asking nicely works wonders 70% of the time. In 20% of the time, showing the teeth will seal the deal. Only 10% of the time requires actual work to be done. 

I asked nicely for way too long. When my mom finally came to me and said “Aren’t you going to do something about it?”, I had to perform the hole banishing because it was too late for threats. The main thing was the piece below.

The tools

A fire proof container – It can’t be a small one. I used my 5 L cauldron.

Rock salt

Black salt

1 reversing candle – If you can’t find one, you can paint the bottom half of a white candle with black paint.

A knife

9 tealight candles

3+ incenses

A stick of palo santo

A bell – I used my singing bowl.

Burning alcohol

Long matches – Mine were out, so I used a long barbecue stick.

Broom – You can use your besom, if you have one. I don’t.

The way

Fill your fire proof container with enough rock salt so it can hold 3 incenses sticks and 1 candle up. I chose the number 3 because it is my power number, feel free to use yours. Position your sticks in a triangle form (or whatever other form you can make with your chosen number of incenses) and leave the middle empty.

Put your container on the ground (I put it in our living room), and align the 9 tealights around it in a circle form. The number 9 here symbolizes closure.

Light up all the tealights and incenses. Do not sit, this ritual is meant to be done standing up.

Hold your reversed candle and your knife in your hands, and say loud and clear what you are doing and why you are doing it. I stated that I was banishing the spirits because they had crossed the line and pushed the boundaries I had previously set in our living space. I evoked the landlord power and said that as long as this is my land, my rules will prevail, and I will not tolerate to be disrespected.

Get your knife and sharpen the black side of the reversing candle – this is the side that you are going to lighten, not the regular one. Put the candle in the middle of your container and light it. State that when the flame reaches the white half of the candle, all of the said spirits will vanish from your house, and never come back.

Now, get the black salt. Go to every room of your place and put a handful of black salt on the ground, stating that this salt will absorb all negativity and bad energy of the room. Leave it there.

While the candle burns, it is time to ring your bell. Not in a Santa Claus way, keep the swing short. You will walk around your place swinging this bell until all the black part of the candle is gone. Ghosts hate bells, trust me.

This will take a while. Pay attention to the incenses – every time one is finished, replace it with a new one. I cheated it and made the candle burn faster with one of those kitchen lighters – and that’s fine. I actually think it gave an extra oomph to it, making it faster with my will. Showing who’s the boss, y’know?

When the black part is all gone, it is time to get all the black salt back – time to use your broom. Swipe it on to a piece of paper and pour it into the container. 

Now, really, REALLY carefully you will pour the alcohol into the container – that’s why it can’t be a small one, you have to be able to do this without risking a burning. Pour the alcohol directly on the salt, close to the edges of the container. A little goes a long way. Don’t forget: always keep a lot of water close to you when you are handling fire.

With your long match or stick, get the fire from the reversing candle to the rest of the container. Again, be careful. State that the fire will extinguish any remaining energy from those spirits. 

Throw the palo santo stick into the fire. Let it burn with it until the fire fades away – which should not take very long (a little alcohol goes a long way, I said). 

After that, cover the hole thing with water, mix it a little with your stick and let it sit overnight. The next day, strain it and throw the remainings away.

It is a long ritual (at least for me, a minimalist when it comes to this sort of magick), but effective af.

anonymous asked:

Can we get some reactions from some MTMTE bots for their human s/o who sings VERY well? Like... Christina Aguilera good? (No one could be that good she is QUEEN at singing). But still :3 Love your blog darlin'! Keep up the good work! <3 <3 <3 *huggles*

*Huggles!* (There was another ask similar to this that got accidentally deleted when I was doing some inbox clean-up. Hopefully this will suffice for that other anon as well ^.^;)

Rodimus sings with you! He’s pretty good, too. He’s also one of those people who randomly sing when they’re bored, confused, or frightened, so you two end up having a lot of impromptu musical numbers :) 

Drift finds your voice soothing. He likes whatever you sing, but he especially loves to hear you perform slower songs with meaningful lyrics. When he’s stressed he asks you to sing for him because it never fails to calm him down. He shyly sings an old Cybertronian song for you in return.

Swerve totally wants you to perform at the bar sometime. He’s so impressed and amazed with your voice; he’s always telling people what a phenomenal singer you are. If you sing a song just for him he gets SO flustered; he HAS to cover you in smooches!

Rewind, of course, records you as much as possible. Then he shows EVERYBODY. Hey, have you ever heard an angel sing? DID YOU WANT TO? Whenever he’s bored he plays one of your bouncier songs to dance to. Chromedome is quieter in his appreciation, but is still immensely impressed and proud of you. He asks you to sing for him when he has trouble recharging. 

Brad Simpson Imagine

Today had been a lazy day. You had just been watching Netflix and lounging around the house on your day off. You were expecting a delivery and you had to wait to make sure they receive their pavement before you go anywhere. Finally, at about three o’clock in the afternoon there was a knock at the front door. You pause the show you had been watching and answer the front door. 

A young woman is standing there with a box, “Delivery for Y/N?” 

“Yes that’s me, thank you so much” You smile and take the box from her, “I hope the payment is all in order?”

The delivery lady nods, “Yup you’re all good”

Something catches your eye behind her and you look around her. There is a dog walking across your front lawn and up to your front door. The lady realises you’re looking behind her, and she turns to see what you’re looking at, “Does he belong to you?” she asks. 

You shake your head, “No, hopefully he’s a friendly dog. I have one in the backyard that won’t like him very much if he tries to bite me”. 

The delivery lady laughs, “Well I might just leave you with that. Have a good afternoon”

You wave at her, “Yeah you too”. You step out of your doorway and close the door behind you, leaving it unlocked. The dog has come right up to you and has started licking your foot. “Huh, so you’re a friendly puppy then?” The dog wags its tail and looks up at you. “Who do you belong to buddy?”. You check the dog’s collar for a name tag or a number to call. Nothing. He didn’t appear to be leaving you anytime soon and you couldn’t bear the idea of abandoning him where he could be hit by a car. There was only one thing left to do. 

“Alright buddy, let’s take you to the vet” You asked the dog to sit (which he did) and wait whilst you grabbed your phone, shoes, and house keys. Luckily, you could walk to the vet from your house, and it should only take about 25 minutes to get there. You lock the front door and start walking with the dog. He didn’t have a lead and you didn’t have time to find one, so you were just hoping he would respond to voice commands. Turns out he could. When you inevitably encountered other dogs along the way, you just had to call “Come on buddy let’s keep going!” and the dog would continue to walk along with you. 

You weren’t going to lie, your heart jumped a little when there was an ‘almost-incident’ with a school bus. Luckily, the bus saw the dog and slowed down. You gave the driver a quick wave and you both continued on your way. Twenty minutes and several more close calls later, you were almost at the vet. Quite honestly, you were relieved you had made it this far. That was until the dog decided to run into the front yard of someone’s house. 

“Buddy come on, we’re almost there don’t stop now!” You sigh and walk into the front yard slightly. You were hoping no one was home. “Come on Buddy let’s go!” You pat your leg and whistle at the dog.

He wouldn’t leave. 

You paused and thought that maybe this was where the dog lived. You started to walk towards the dog when the front door opened. Oh great, someone was home after all. You looked at the person and saw it was a young guy with brown curly hair and brown eyes. Eyes that were looking at you. And then they were looking at the dog. Clearly the dog didn’t belong to him. And of course, being the friendly dog that he was, the dog went straight up to the young guy. Okay, that was enough. 

You walked further into the front yard, “Come on buddy, leave him alone we’re nearly there” The dog wouldn’t leave him alone, and the guy bent down to pat him on the head, “I am so sorry, I don’t know who he belongs to. I’m just trying to get him to the vet”

He looks up at you and frowns slightly, “Why are you going to the vet though?”

You walk up to the both of them and pat the dog, “There was no name or contact number on the collar, I was hoping that he was micro-chipped. The vet should be able to pull up contact details from that” The guy nodded and started to pick up the dog. “Um, what are you doing?” 

He lifts the dog and stands up straight. His biceps don’t escape your attention. “I’m going to help you get this guy back to his owners”

“Oh, well that’s very nice of you. Thanks.”

He attempts to shrug, “It’s no problem. Besides, I know how freaked out I would be if my dog were missing”

You both start to walk in the direction of the vets. It should only be about 5 minutes away. “Thank you again for doing this, we’ve had a few close calls already on our way over”. 

He looks over to you, “Don’t worry about it, honestly. I’m Brad by the way”


Brad smiles at you, “I would shake your hand or something but mine are kind of full right now” he looks down to the dog. 

You laugh and pat the dog, “Maybe later then”

“So how far did you walk with this guy?”

“We’ve been walking for about 20 minutes” You can see the vet up ahead in front of you, “I really hope he’s micro-chipped”

Brad nods, “Yeah me too” You walk into the vets. Okay here goes nothing. The receptionist smiles at the two of you. 

“Do you two have an appointment?” You and Brad look at each other and back to the receptionist.

“No, we’re hoping you could help us though” Brad says.

“I found this dog wandering the streets. There are no tags or contact numbers on him, but I’m hoping he’s micro-chipped” You explain as Brad stands next to you. 

The receptionist nods, “Yeah sure honey, no worries. If the both of you could take a seat, I’ll grab the scanner”

You and Brad sit on the sofa around the corner while you wait. Brad scratches behind the dog’s ears. You sigh and pat the dog as well, “I really hope we can find his owners”

Brad smiles, “Well I think that he’s lucky he found a good person to get him here” You look at each other and pause. Then you smile at Brad.

“Looks like he found two of them” You smile at each other. You could feel the tension build. The air around the two of you almost felt electric. 

“Okay, I found the scanner!”

You and Brad jump slightly at the receptionist. I guess you were both caught in the moment. The receptionist moves the scanner around the dog’s neck. You cross your fingers and hold your breath. Why was it taking so long to find it? Maybe he didn’t have one? What were you going to do then? Brad must have felt the worry radiating off you, and he placed a comforting hand on your back. The scanner beeped. 

“Ah, there it is! Let me just check the database to find the owner’s contact details” 

You both let out a sigh of relief. Brad moves his hand back to the dog, “See, nothing to worry about!” 

You smile and roll your eyes, “Oh come on, like you weren’t worried for a second there”

“Pffft, no way. I was confident the whole time” Brad smirks at you. Okay he’s adorable. 

“Mmhmm sure. Whatever you say, Brad”

The receptionist comes back around the corner with a vet, “Alright the owner will be around in 10 minutes, we can hold the dog here until they arrive”

Brad passes the dog over to the vet. “Thank you so much!” You say to the ladies as you walk out of the clinic. You and Brad start walking back.

You laugh as you start to notice Brad’s jacket. Brad looks at you, “What?”

You shake your head, “It’s just your jacket is covered in dog hair”

Brad looks down and starts brushing the hair off of his jacket, “You should see what Jesse does to my stuff sometimes” he laughs. 

“Jesse?” You ask.

“My dog. She’s a golden retriever and I love her”

“Oh man, I love golden retrievers!” 

“Really? You aren’t just saying that?”

You nod. “It’s true, I’ve wanted one for ages”

You both stop as you realise you’ve reached Brad’s house. You smile at him, “Again, thank you so much for your help”

Brad sticks his hand out. You look at him quizzically. He grins at you, “Hey, you said later we could shake hands. This is later”

You laugh and shake his hand.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid idea or whatever, but is there a chance I can get your number?” You’re surprised, but pleased that he asked. 

You shrug, “I suppose that would be okay. I mean, you did help me save a dog” You exchange numbers. “I better start heading back”

Brad gives you a small smile, “Yeah okay”

“So are you going to actually text me?”

His smile gets wider, “I’ll have to think about if I want to see you again”

You smirk back at him, “Well I won’t wait around forever. Nice meeting you Brad” you start to walk away. You’re a couple of houses down when your phone chimes. It was a message. From Brad.

Turns out there wasn’t anything to think about. Friday?” You smile and turn around. Brad is standing on the edge of his front lawn looking at you and holding his phone. You grin at him, turn around, and keep walking. You type a reply on your phone. 

Friday it is”

I guess it wasn’t just a lazy day at home. 


Phew, there we go! Sorry for the delay, it’s been hectic around here. Hope you enjoyed it! As usual, feel free to send in requests for new people or any ideas you may have. 

I hope you’re having a wonderful day


- A.J

Leon Draisaitl #2


Apologizes for not writing/posting lately, I just couldn’t get anything good but this came up! Wether it’s good or not I posted yay, enjoy :) Requests are still open, just don’t expect them to be written within a day

Word Count: 1,954

Originally posted by mattyymarts

You really didn’t want to go out to some party tonight. Sure it was a Friday night and you had a long week that was well deserving in a drink, but partying just didn’t seem appealing today. Add the fact the moment you got there you realized this wasn’t about to be just some normal party and you were so ready to go home. 

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Shoe Shopping

Thomas Chabot x Reader

Team: Ottawa Senators

Warnings: None? A bit short

POV: Second Person

Can you do a really cute Thomas Chabot one, maybe where he’s being protective or something like that

Originally posted by intermissionpenguins

Your name: submit What is this?

You didn’t notice the flirting, you thought you were just getting really nice service. Doesn’t everyone receive a compliment from the person working the store? 

Doesn’t everyone get offered a discount and a phone number?

“Do you need anything else?” The guy asked for the millionth time, giving you a smile and putting his hands behind his back. 

“No,” You responded. “I’m good, thank you.” You said as you sat down and set the box of shoes next to you. 

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The Fake Boyfriend

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel

Summary: Reader bumps into a stranger and her life gets flipped upside down…

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language

A/N: This was written for @dancingalone21 ‘s Funny Quote Challenge. My quote was, “Don’t objectify me.” If you aren’t following her go do it!…

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anonymous asked:

how it would be have kakashi , gai, naruto ,neji , sasuke&itachi as brother


  • Very, very protective, regardless of whether you’re older or younger.
  • Messes up your hair as a sign of affection even though he knows it irritates you to no end.
  • He always figures out how to somehow be a third wheel on your dates, even if that means scoring himself a date at the same venue.


  • He makes you breakfast at the crack of dawn on the days you work out together.
  • He’s always pushing you to your very best at whatever you do, and is your number one fan all the time. 
  • Is always really, really excited when he meets your s/o, sometimes it kind of freaks them out.


  • Definitely the type of sibling that reminds your parents to pull out the baby photos, or asks you if you remember really embarrassing moments in your life in front of your s/o.
  • Knows all your dirty little secrets, and you have no idea how.
  • Once he gets to know your s/o, he gets really comfortable in front of them, to the point where the two of you will be hanging out at your place and he’ll come out of his room in his boxers and go to the kitchen without so much as a glance in your direction, and maybe a hello to your s/o on the way back to his room.


  • He plays the intimidating older sibling role whenever he meets your s/o (and it totally works every time).
  • Lowkey, he’s a total mom. Always nursing you back to health, even if your “injury” is just tripping while going up the stairs.
  • Grouchy, like, all the time with you, when you were little you thought he didn’t like you, but now that you’re older, you know he’s just looking out for you (sometimes a little too much).

Sasuke & Itachi

  • Sasuke would pretend to not care about you in public, but as soon as you got home, he’d drill you with questions, like “Who was that person you were talking to?”
  • Itachi would be the kind of brother who would spend all the time he wasn’t training or on missions with you and Sasuke, and the three of you would have the most unbreakable of sibling bonds.
  • They’d both gather up as much information as possible on your s/o before meeting them, and would casually slip information about their past into conversation to freak them out.

- Admin Rey

anonymous asked:

How did you become comfortable meeting up with pots /sd's? How do you make sure you're safe? I want to do sugar babying but I want to make sure I'm doing it in the safest way possible

In a way I think that meeting up with POTs is kinda the same as any other social interaction. Aside from the dynamic being obviously different the same goal is still there given that you’re essentially looking to find common ground with the person. It’s important to present yourself in as positive a light as naturally possible and entice the guys, cuz you’re essentially selling a product (yourself). But aside from that it’s really all about getting comfortable talking with relative strangers. Which seems to be a skill that can be developed with experience - prior to sugaring I was awk af with new peeps.

As for safety that’s clearly a biggie. For one thing you should always screen your POTs using whatever information you have (email address, phone number, business, name). Meet them in public places for the first couple of meets, make sure that a friend (either IRL or on Tumblr - totally feel free to message me/other babies if you need a buddy) knows where you are and who you’re with, don’t get into a car with any man (either drive yourself or take an Uber and ask for transportation $), don’t give them any personal info (use a fake name, fake email address, texting app > cell number), aaaand don’t fall for scams. Until the money is physically in your hand it might as well not exist. Don’t ever do anything with a daddy based on future promises - these guys know exactly what you want to hear so you need to advocate for yourself. Know your worth and don’t be wary of stating your needs/pursing them. Xx

anonymous asked:

Could you do a 50's diner AU with Seungcheol please? Like he's in a biker gang and you're very girly?

alright so my hands were a bit too free considering I don’t know too much about the era and I’ve got no clue what “very girly” actually entails (and I might’ve gone wrong with the biker gang part too) so while I think this might actually be a passable 50′s diner AU in some way (idk if it actually is oops), I can only hope it’s not completely different from what you wanted in the other aspects?

otherwise I’m quite happy with this and it was a lot of fun to write, and heY if there was something you were expecting but I didn’t manage to get in or didn’t write well enough, hmu and I’ll be more than glad to write a part 2 with those things included better! ♥

+ this is 5.5k words and I don’t want to completely flood everyone’s dashboards so this will be under a cut - if there’s a problem, send us a message and I’ll help ^^

You twirled your pen in your hand, your elbows resting atop the counter and your head leaning on your other hand. It was a quiet day at the diner, with only a handful of customers seated, so you weren’t all that thrilled to be working. It was nearing 4pm, so you still had a few hours left before you’d get to go home.

When the bell above the door chimed, you straightened your back and grabbed your notebook, getting your professionalism back to the top only to have it almost crumble when you saw who it was that had just cime in.

It was the gang of 6 young men, all of whom had bikes and dressed accordingly. Your nose scrunched a little in distaste - perhaps it was a bit too obvious that they weren’t exactly your favorite customers - but waited behind the counter nevertheless while they found a booth for themselves. A few of the guys were still going through the menu, so you didn’t have to approach them just yet, no matter how much one of them was, as per usual, staring at you while running his fingers through his greasy hair.

Frowning, you pouted a little to yourself before walking up to the group of guys and clicked your pen on the notebook so that it was ready to use. “So, what can I get you?”

You felt like squirming at the way that one guy let his eyes go up and down your legs shamelessly, and you shifted on your feet uncomfortably. He grinned.

“Five cheeseburger meals, one salad and six milkshakes, two of each flavor, and your number, sweetheart,” he said cockily, raising his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a suggestive way but only came off as jerkish. You clicked your tongue and resisted the urge to roll your eyes while scribbling down their order, which luckily wasn’t all that complex. It never was.

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