companion coffee

Jack Zimmermann was accustomed to dealing with difficult situations; he was captain of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team after all, but this? This was never in the job description.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Bitty whispered into the side of Jack’s neck, breath hot and sweet against his skin. The kegster ended a while ago but Bitty was still feeling the effects. When he fell off the coffee table attempting to dance to All the Single Ladies, Jack swept in ready to piggyback him to bed.

“Alright,” Jack said, mouthing I got this in Lardo’s direction before heading to the stairs.

“I don’t wanna be a single lady anymore,” His voice faltered and Jack became acutely aware of Bitty’s thighs around his hips. “I want a person. Everybody else has got a person.”

“With moves like that I don’t think you’ll have to wait long,” Jack said, supressing a chuckle.

“Mmhmm,” Bitty mumbled, fighting a losing war against sleep. Jack pushed open the door to Bitty’s room with his foot and ducked inside.

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If the DA:I squad were college students
  • Cassandra: Red flannel shirts. Her hair is short because it's convenient. Women hit on her and she honestly doesn't even realize until they're about to kiss her. Secretly attends every Slam Poetry event at the local coffee shop. Probably majoring in criminal justice. Needs a black coffee every morning to function.
  • Varric: Already a published author, why is he still going to college? "You meet some real interesting characters on a college campus." Mr. Put-Your-Chest-Hair-Away-Tethras is majoring in business, of all things, with a minor in English.
  • Solas: No one is really sure how old Solas is, but they know he didn't come straight to college from high school. Seems to have been homeschooled. Has some... interesting ideas about spirits. Occasionally disappears from campus without a trace, only to turn up again completely unharmed. History major, to no one's surprise.
  • Vivienne: The queen bee on campus. Leader of the biggest sorority, colloquially known as The Circle. Majoring in biochemistry, and destined for the best med school when she graduates. Works part time at the local hospital, and is captain of the cycling team. Voted most likely to succeed in her class.
  • Sera: It's unclear when and where Sera showers, but she must shower sometimes, because she smells like fresh dirt and honey most days. How did she get into college anyway??? Majoring in Psychology. Aces every test, never studies. She knows how people work--we never said she was good at interacting with them.
  • The Iron Bull: No one actually knows what Bull's major is. No one has ever had a class with him. His phone is constantly blowing up with tinder and grindr notifications, and he somehow manages never to have a roommate. Which is probably good, considering there's also rarely a night he goes to bed alone. Works on campus as a security guard at nighttime events, and has been an excellent RA to his floor every year he's been at college (no one is sure how long that has been).
  • Blackwall: Non-traditional student. Already had a major in exercise science, but couldn't hold down a job, and came back, and now is majoring in criminal justice. A little older than most students on campus, but not so much older that it would be weird for him to date one of them. Flustered by powerful ladies around campus. Takes caffeine pills, doesn't like the taste of coffee. Makes a point to walk around campus at least once after sundown and walk anyone alone and afraid back to wherever it is they need to be. Has stopped campus robberies twice this year.
  • Cole: No one is certain Cole is actually old enough to be at college. Works part time at the library. Is remarkably good at finding great books for people, whether they were looking for that book or not. Sometimes attends classes he isn't enrolled in, and helps with group projects. Has been here for at least four years, and somehow has not declared a major yet. Can... can he even do that...? Campus cat whisperer. Pets and feeds all the strays that come around campus. Does not drink caffeine.
  • Dorian: Theoretical physicist. He's already got his undergraduate, and is doing research and TAing for Dr. Gereon Alexius, a renowned physics professor on campus. Works part time as a barista, and hasn't been able to quit because his customers riot each time he tries. His father wants him working for the family business, which deals with subatomic particle research. Dorian wants no part of it, because of the way his parents reacted when he came out. Takes an irish coffee every now and again when all his responsibilities begin to creep up on him.
  • Cullen: Majoring in veterinary science, and has to study more than the other students, but his determination is stronger. Had some issues in the past with peer pressure and substance abuse, but has since matured and has been clean since freshman year. Has his dog on campus, walks him at least twice daily. Keeps him active and meeting new people. Pumpkin spice latte boy.
  • Josephine: Majoring in political science, now working on her Master's degree, also definitely had a ball to celebrate her coming of age and welcome her into debutante society. Her parents were mildly disappointed when Josie insisted on attending college and going into politics, rather than taking over as CEO of the Montilyet business. Josephine easily won class president, and also maintains a 3.97 GPA. She panicked when it fell below 4.0 until Leliana took her on a week long shopping trip to distract her.
  • Leliana: Actually a professor. Teaches some of the criminal justice and cybersecurity classes on campus. New boys make the mistake of underestimating her every year, and every year, she destroys them. Most of the other staff is mildly afraid of her. Super paranoid about digital communications and sometimes actually uses ravens to send private messages. (Honestly, the private messages are mostly sent to Josie, and they are just gossip about people she and Josie both know.)

the brightest star falls first

you find a young dalish hunter being chased by bears at the storm coast. do you help him?

finished the companion card for eremes! not sure if i’ll make a party icon for him // I’m really happy with the second one because it turned out nice? thumbnailing really does work kids always thumbnail before you draw

poetry; byun baekhyun

Originally posted by baekvanilla

summary : a recurring visitor to your café is all that is needed to bring a smile to your face and cause your heart to swell.

pairing : baekhyun x reader (y/n)

genre : fluff with a small amount of angst.

word count : 1,074

‘Sometimes I think

Our heads might be enclosed

Closer together upon the pillow’s space,

And how into the dark deeps of your eyes

I’d look and think of angels…’

The lilting voice came from the table to your left, as per usual.

“Fair is my love and cruel as she’s fair,”

The rapid flick of your eyes towards his confirmed your creeping suspicions; he was staring straight over the top of his book and smiling faintly at you while reciting the latest in a long, long line of sonnets.

“Her brow-shades frown, although her eyes are sunny, Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair, And her disdains are gall, her favours honey.”

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“You’re in my spot,” Dean says, when he walks into the library and sees that Cas is sitting in his usual chair. He thunks two coffees down on the desk, disgruntled.

Cas blinks up at him for a moment, seeming to consider being stubborn - but eventually he shrugs, and moves to the next seat along.

“I used to have a spot,” he says.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean asks cursorily. He sits, and takes in the room from his usual vantage point. Good. All is right with the world. It’s strange, he thinks in passing, how the chair only really feels like his Spot, with a capital ‘S’, so long as Cas is in the chair beside him.

“Yes. Not too far from here… less than a light year away.” Cas takes a small sip of coffee, and winces. He doesn’t seem to notice Dean staring at him. “Mmm. Hot.”

“Less than a… right,” Dean says weakly. It’s so easy to forget, sometimes, that Cas is so other. “Well. I mean, each to their own, right? You, uh, you have your spot, and -”

“Had,” Cas corrects, looking down at his coffee cup with a focus that feels a little too hard to be real, as though he’s avoiding looking up at Dean. “Not anymore.”

Dean stares at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. He clears his throat.

“You got a different spot, now,” he says. Cas looks up at him, frowning slightly, and Dean smiles - trying to look reassuring, and not too worried about what he is about to say, too uncertain of how Cas will react.

“I do?” Cas says.

“Sure,” Dean replies easily. “Next to me.”

The look on Cas’ face melts all of Dean’s worries. They drink their coffee together, companionably - both of them in their spot. Together.

kagemushakosuke  asked:

44, the space gays, Al saying it. Shoot me hard please. </3 XD

Shoot, you say? May this be a shotgun to the heart! :D

44: “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

Salt and Iron

Subtle missions required subtle people. Anyone who saw Ivan and Alfred function in their day-to-day lives would never believe they were capable of being anything but ostentatious, but their capacity for subtlety was, itself, discreet. It showed in their typical politician answers of vagueness and misdirect; it showed in their guarded postures, arms folded over their hearts, feet always spread just so to be ready for anything; it showed in the precautions they took in their private lives, like always changing their routes to work, using fake names when conversing with strangers on the street.

It granted them safety and it made them good at their job with the agency.

But sometimes however good you are, the enemy was just as crafty.

Donned in their freshly pressed suits, Ivan and Alfred were a sharp sight indeed. They maintained a respectable distance in the main hall, but always close enough to keep the other in sight.

“Guy on your left as a knife sheathed up his sleeve,” Alfred murmured into his wine glass. He was at a slight disadvantage in this mission, needing to observe through his peripherals, but needing to look through his glasses to see well. He didn’t like relying on contact lenses; last time he had, they had popped out. No lenses stayed in his eyes for long.

Ivan, for his part, had been more than willing to accept this mission. Their target’s sprawling manor rested near a beach, and slivers of it were visible through the crystal-clear windows framed by heavy curtains of a rich red. Sandy shores and spacious seas were a favorite of his, even if he did not get to see them enough.

Their eyes met for half a heartbeat across the hall, and Alfred saw as Ivan’s gaze travel on the taller man scratch unassumingly at his nose.

All clear.

Alfred feigned fixing his tie.

Let’s go.

Without missing a beat, Ivan extricated himself from their fellow partygoers, striding off through a side door. Alfred, meanwhile, pretended to inquire as to where the bathroom was. As if he had not poured over a map of the entire premises for hours upon hours with his three companions: Ivan, coffee, and pretzels.

Bladder not remotely full, Alfred did not stay in the restroom long, instead quietly exiting, locking and closing the door behind him as he navigated his way to where Ivan was heading for. Their target boosted a strong ego, sure that through extensive screening everyone with an invitation would pose no threat to him. As such, the bulk of his security was focused on the main area of the party to do crowd control if anyone got rowdy. It was easy for Ivan to work the lock on the door, and just as easy for Alfred to hack the number pad and disable the digital lock.

And it was easy to enter the room and not leave a trace of themselves, as their prize- a simple painting, hung front and center right across from them. The door was closed quietly behind them as the two snuck in and removed the painting from the wall.

“Where is it?” Alfred voice was barely a breath. “Where’s the money?” He looked up and down the frame, along the back, the sides.

Slipping on a pair of gloves, Ivan’s fingers ghosted carefully over both sides of the canvas. He paused, gaze distant as he felt. “It…is in here. There’s another layer of canvas- the money is hidden between them.” He pulled out a knife. The tearing of the canvas filled the silence of the ornate office as, just as he’d predicted, one layer of canvas was peeled away to reveal wads of hundred-dollar bills.

Alfred whistled. “That’s exactly how much the chief said there’d be.” He began bagging the stolen funds as Ivan tore away the rest of the second layer and unfurled a stretch of fabric. They had brought that with the intention of using it for a quick escape or cut away swatches as gags or tourniquets, but Ivan’s intention would require all of it. “Not exact but it will do,” he muttered as he began stretching it over the frame as a replacement to the ruined canvas he had removed.

“Not quite.”

Both their heads snapped up, hearts pounding as their target frowned at them, a machine gun already aimed right at them. “I worked hard to get that money and I intend on using it,” he said coolly. “And I’d rather not worry about you two blabbing.”

“Law enforcement will love locking up an egomaniac prick like you,” Alfred shot back, eyes narrowed. He reached for his gun, stomach squirming as he watched the gunman smirk, and knew he would not have time.

“I think I’ll kill the mouthy one first,” the man said casually, as if debating what to order at a restaurant.

Alfred felt Ivan tense beside him. The gun was raised.

Barely three seconds passed as the world erupted into chaos. Shots rang, audible across the world, but Alfred did not see them coming as Ivan threw himself in front, pulling out his own gun. Something of the momentum must have misbalanced him, because he stumbled past Alfred rather than fire, but it made no matter because in the time Ivan’s distraction granted him, Alfred grabbed his own gun and fired. He hit his mark.

“GUARDS!” the man screamed, collapsed on the floor clutching his gut and thigh.

“Music is a bit loud, buddy, don’t think they’ll hear you for a bit,” Alfred gloated.

A pained moan reached his ears. Alfred looked over to see Ivan slowly, slowly dragging himself to his feet, arm wrapped around his torso. Ivan, tall, strong, stubborn Ivan, as immovable as a mountain and enduring as the most ancient trees, stumbled.

“Take it easy, big guy, we can-”

Blood leaked between Ivan’s fingers from several bullet wounds, the round balls of metal piercing fabric, flesh, and bone alike. Ivan swayed, face twisted as he coughed. Red stained his hand as he drew it from his mouth.


Ivan’s choked grunts of pain were drown out by a cackle, and Alfred saw the triumphant smile of their target as he lowered a walkie talkie.

Heart hammering, Alfred flew over to Ivan, wrapping his arm around the other’s back and grimacing at the aching cry it drew from his partner. “C’mon, Ivan, let’s go, come on, we have to get out of here now. Come on, I’ll get you out of here.” Ivan nodded, teeth clenched. Alfred snatched up the unused fabric and began slowly helping Ivan out the door. Already he could hear shouts.

“Chief! Chief, come in, we-”

“I know, Alfred,” their boss’s voice said in his ear. “Listen, just get out of there, get somewhere open, we’ll send the chopper to pick you two up. Don’t worry about anything else, just get the two of you out of there!”

Alfred worried Ivan could feel his shaking as he navigated them through side doors and obscure hallways, all the while aware of the distant shouts of more gunmen. Heart hammering, he leaned Ivan against a pillar just feet from the exit and hastily used their cloth to make a makeshift bandage. Ivan nearly screamed, cut off by his own bloody coughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alfred said over and over, drawing Ivan back to him. Outside. They were outside. In the trees. They had cover now. But Ivan’s blood was dripping even with the cloth- and he hadn’t even be able to thoroughly wrap all his wounds. The world jerked to a halt when Ivan’s dragging feet stumbled over the uneven terrain, eliciting a broken sob as he tipped forward. Alfred hastily caught him, feeling cold and clammy yet like every nerve was on fire. His ears filled with the sound of Ivan’s cries as he carefully picked the other up, glad for his remarkable strength, and carefully guided them further and further away from the damned mission.

Ivan’s breathing turned into short, shallow puffs of air as he fought, always fighting, through the pain, hands shaking like leaves as they pressed cloth and shirt to his wounds. Every pause in that ragged panting made Alfred’s own heart stop. “Just gotta get to a clearing,” Alfred murmured to Ivan when the other quieted. “Ivan? Hey- you gotta stay awake until the chopper comes, okay? Don’t close your eyes until a doctor looks at you.”

“Would doctor…looking at me…make you jealous?” Ivan hissed through the rattling of his teeth.

“Not today, big guy. If you just stay goddamned awake.”

A horrible silence greeted Alfred’s words.

“Ivan? You have to stay awake I said. For the doctor.” For me.

Ivan’s words were soft, gentle almost, like the salty breeze caressing them as it wound through the foliage. “I can’t promise that.”

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Alfred growled.

Ivan’s bloodstained lips opened in a smile, chest quaking in an agonizing, wet chuckle. Alfred shook his head, casting another furtive glance around. “Come on, just a bit further,” he muttered, to himself or to Ivan, he had no idea anymore. He wasn’t even paying proper attention to his surroundings; the only thing he saw was the color draining from Ivan’s face, the only thing he heard was his weakening breath as it rattled from his lungs, the only thing he felt was Ivan’s quivering. Centuries of careful treading, a thousand of Alfred’s broken sobs as he tried and failed to move as gently as possible, only imagining the discomfort it caused his partner. He was near, Alfred knew it. They had to be near. Alfred could hear the teal dance of the waves in their uncaring sway.

Warmth bathed their broken spirits as Alfred dragged them both beyond the treeline and onto the sandy beach.

“Look, big guy. The beach. You can rest here. You get to see the beach up close now. That’s why you took this mission, yeah? Now you can rest here and- and we’ll go to a better one when you feel better. Catch some sun, cool down in the water. Look how beautiful it is. This- oh god…this…this suits you, all this sun and color. I’ll take you to the beach when you’re better.” Alfred’s voice broke. He looked down.

Even with his eyes glazed over, long since unseeing, Ivan’s smile from before remained lighting his lifeless face. Alfred’s empty threat had been the final thing he heard in this world, unaware now of the anguished wail just beside him.


Aesthetic for a Nemesis - chan.
I hope you like the aesthetic Nemesis - chan, if you want anything added or changed please don’t be afraid to tell me.
Hey, Nemesis. Are you having a good day? I hope so! Can I just say that your super badass! And I’m sure that you’d be a great companion for a coffee while talking about assassination tips!
Hope you have a brilliant day / night! ^^
- Mod Nora

Conan X Iced Coffee! Even Jigen ordered it for him once ☕ 


**EDIT: Just caught the spelling mistake, but I’m too lazy to change it. He’s screaming anyway, take it as a pronunciation error.***

I tried romance options with Laz’ab at the very beginning but it just looked so wrong. So he killed her and he hasn’t romanced any NPCs or companions since.

Except for stupid Ashara who falls in love with you whether you abuse her or not, but she’ll be dead soon.

coffee-time fic rec, today….     

Patterns of Fairytales   by buttheyrebrothers                     

Summary: Jared is a homeless teenager with no place to stay during a dangerous blizzard. He finds an empty hallway. He is found by a beautiful boy. And the rest is, as they say, history.                  Notes:    First of a series of meet-cute AUs I want to write. Prompt is from dimpleforyourthoughts:

Part 1 of the Meet-Cute AUs series      from this prompt: J2 au Homeless teen Jared befriending rich heir jensen and sneaking in the back of his mansion to crash on jensens bed and Jensen letting him borrow clean clothes and telling himself that it’s out of charity but in reality he just likes the way Jared wears his shirtsI forgot the shirts. I’m sorry.

“There are a lot of things I wish I could’ve seen before.” Dean’s voice gets a little rough, a little too strained for the quaint atmosphere of the bustling coffee shop. “A lot more things I did see but I didn’t appreciate.”

He didn’t get a response, but he could sense the deeper breaths from his coffee companion. Being immersed in darkness for so long made him sensitive to other facts of life. Like how he knew his friend had ordered a hot chocolate, could smell the marshmallows melting. Like how he knew there was a cute girl, with a giggly personality and a love for lavender bath bombs, who stopped by their table frequently as if she couldn’t stay away from them.

What he didn’t know was how they got to this point. They’ve been friends for years and Castiel never brought up Dean’s past, Dean’s loss of sight. It was one of the reasons Dean treasured their friendship. But now… now Dean couldn’t help the disappoint as he continued to talk into the dark abyss that smelled of coffee.

“I wish I would’ve paid more attention to my mom’s smile and my dad’s grin. I wish I could’ve known to memorize Sam’s boyish features. But I don’t. I have nothing to remember my parents except the ghost of their words.” Taking a deep breath, Dean readjusted the cane by his side. The cold metallic feel underneath his fingertips brought him some sense of safety. “I wish I could see a lot of things, Cas.”

Still sitting in silence, Cas shifted in his seat. Taking a soft breath, he finally parted his lips. “I’m sorry that I asked that question. I know that… I want you to know that I really don’t see you as a blind man. It only recently started to bother me.”

And there it was. The statement that made Dean’s face harden into a grimace. That one sentence crushed everything he had built with this other man. “I’m sorry it bothers you.” He couldn’t help the venom dripping from his words. He was halfway on his feet when he heard a hiccup.

Turning his head just the slightest, Dean heard it. Crying. Quiet enough as if Cas was using all of his energy to hold it in. That was not what Dean expected. He found himself sitting back down and trying his hardest to look in his best friend’s direction.


“I-I just…” Cas’ words were breaking, his breathing choppy and violent. “I didn’t care before because… because you were my friend. But now… now I f-fucking fell in love you and you’ll never see me… you’ll never see the smile I get when you walk into a room or know just how much I stare and it’ll never be okay because I want more than anything to have you see the way I love you.”

A single cool tear slipped past Dean’s cheekbone. Without a word, he maneuvered himself from his chair to kneeling beside Cas. With a heavy heart, Dean reached up and took his hand in his own. “Castiel, I don’t need to see.”

Cas sniffled, calming himself. “What do you-“

“I hear every smile you have. I hear every sigh and little gasp from your lips. I don’t need to see you to know that you love me. Just as you don’t need to hear me say it to know that I love you. Jesus Christ, Cas, I…” Without hesitating Dean reached his hand toward the breathing he was so tuned into. His fingers cautiously brush Cas’ stubble. “I love you.”

Dean didn’t need to see to know his friend was smiling. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Cas was staring right at him, right into him. And he sure as hell didn’t need his sight to lean forward and press their lips together.

“Let’s get out of here.” Dean whispered against tear-soaked cheeks.

Cas nodded, clinging to Dean’s shirt. “Is it true that sex with a blind person is quite mind-blowing?”

That, that was why Dean loved Cas so much. “You can tell me that answer tomorrow morning, sweetheart.”