hunk: depends on his mood. sometimes he’ll go for that double caramel iceed machiatto with two shots of expresso and whipped cream and other times he’s just like “give me the goddamn bean water and don’t add anything to it”
pidge: straight black coffee, no cream or sugar
shiro: normal cup of coffee. two creams, three sugars. doesn’t understand all the fancy starbucks shit.
keith: secretly a tea drinker
allura: idk if alteans have coffee but she would be a latte ho too
Pairing: percy weasley x pansy parkinson Words: 2005 Link: ao3
Now, if you
asked Pansy what her type was, she would say: rich guys. Classy guys. Smoking, drinking, lazy guys. Rebels,
would not say was: stick-up-the-ass, strict, disciplined,
sweater-wearing, red-headed librarian.
she was, staring at Percy Weasley like she had every day for the past two
months as she sat studying in the university library.
frowning. He was always frowning.
There was always something not entirely in place, always something crooked and
always something irritating. Often, it was her.
It was her,
when she brought a cup of coffee to the library and put it on the cover of a
book she wasn’t currently using. He came raging at her the first time, voice
clipped and annoyed, authoritatively asking her to please remove that substance from the expensive work of their public
library. It was her, when she dropped her books onto the desk too loudly
and she could see him keeping himself from violently shushing her, just aware enough that that would make him look
Weasley never looked ridiculous. He
looked crisp and cool and in charge, even though he wore stupid homemade
sweaters and vests, the sleeves of his shirts pushed up to reveal unfairly
dreams about those forearms. Interesting
Would you be up for writing Alec and Magnus being domestic or cuddly in the institute like in front of Jace Clary Izzy etc?
writing requests are open !
“i’m back with our supplies,”
he was only partially annoyed because
he would have been more comfortable had he stayed behind to discuss what they
were going to do about the demon problem. he weaved in between the trash on the
floor, a frown tugging at his lips as he did so. he could, and could not,
believe they had trashed their loft in the twenty minutes he was gone out for
food and drinks; furthermore, he couldn’t believe magnus had allowed them to trash it especially
given how meticulous the warlock was.
“did you remember the cheetos?” simon piped up as he
snatched the plastic bag from jace’s hands, rifling through it before producing
an orange and red chip bag. “these are cheeto puffs, alec.”
alec fought off the urge to roll his eyes (hopefully
permanently into the back of his head), “if you wanted the right type of
cheetos, you should have gotten them yourself.” without another word, he spun
around to face magnus, a bright and toothy smile spreading across his face. “i
believe you requested a venti caramel macchiato, double whip cream?” he
questioned as he held out a starbucks cup, steam rising from the lid, “with two shots of espresso.”
“seriously? you remembered his macchiato—”
“i’m not dating you, simon,” he cut off as he handed the
coffee to magnus, pressing a feather light kiss to his lips.
“thank you, alexander,” his lips twitched slightly in the
beginnings of a smile then it was gone as he spun around, robe swooshing around
him. “we’ve tracked down the location of the demons to an abandoned warehouse
in brooklyn. the only problem is—”
“the activity levels are high and
going in with six people would be a suicide mission,” jace cut in. for once in
his life, he did not envy jace because the look he received from magnus was one
that could strike a man dead.
“thank you, shadowhunter,” and
alec could tell he was barely containing his anger at being interrupted by jace.
in one swift movement, he had
moved to stand behind magnus, his arms moving to wrap around magnus’ waist. “honey,”
he pressed his lips to the base of magnus’ hairline, arms curling tighter
around magnus. he didn’t know what to
say following the ‘honey’ part – should he say, “it’s okay”? it didn’t sound
right to say that. so, he didn’t. he just held him, hoping his presence was
enough to ‘calm him’.
“i’m fine, alec,” his voice was
soft and if he wasn’t standing as close as he was, he would have missed it. he breathed
in slowly, stepping slowly away from magnus, and once he was detached he
slipped his hand in magnus’.
“what was that?”
alec looked over at the other four
and for a second he was caught off guard because he completely forgot they were
there. his mouth opened and closed as he tried to force something out of his
mouth – anything. “uh…” he stared, hand instinctively tightening around magnus’.
“it’s called pda, shadowhunter.
perhaps you’ve heard of it? it’s what you do when you really love someone,”
magnus broke in, stepping between the two brothers.
You are a special kind of love. The kind of love story I wouldn’t mind reading about everyday like bedtime lullaby before I go to sleep. You are beyond my special kind of love and I am not complaining at all.
➤ pairing: jungkook | reader ; college!au ➤ words: 4.3k ➤ genre: fluff ➤ summary: let’s just say, reminiscing memories of you and your best friend isn’t helping you at all besides the fact that you are falling harder and harder in this really frustrating kind of love
If there was one thing in the world you wished to chase
after even it means scraping your knees from falling or leaving patches of
bruises on your heart, was none other than the thought of love.
Sure people had their ideal kinds of love that probably comes
in a ball of fur that greeted them when they enter the pet shop or when they
express their affection of their beloved family in frames hung decoratively on
their wall. Years and years of learning the beautiful concept of love, it was also
an unbearable chore to carry the weight of the detrimental parts of love along
Wise people would say that love could be difficult to
understand, to indulge and to accept. Believe them without any hesitation
because the first time you digested the meaning of love was when losing one,
the light of your life went out in the middle of the night, a heart failure in
your mother and maybe a failure in yours as well.
The more you believed in those words was when you conformed
to the feeling of rejection. Crushed by the words you feared that lingered out
from his mouth, publicly for the whole word to gawk at your embarrassing
situation. It was that night you felt dread and self-pity for yourself. It was
also that night; you couldn’t remember whether you were drunk on alcohol or
tears. It was the same night you promised yourself not to accept love till you
find it in the palm of your hands.
And you finally accepted it when you felt the force of love
slamming you and puncturing your heart with arrows at the thought of a
beautiful human form whose doe eyes reflected the stars in the sky and the
remarkably cheeky smile that sweeps you of your feet every morning.
Clearly, it has infected you like a virus when realization
struck you. It wasn’t the first time you denied falling for your best friend. You
have always pushed those thoughts away. But being stuck in bed with fever and
having him feed you home cooked soup, pinching your cheeks once in a while isn’t
helping you with any further denial.
The last in the set of floating calico cats, for now. This time we have caramel calicos, or double diluted calicos. The caramel only interacts with already diluted colours, turning blue into caramel, lilac (or lavender) into lilac-caramel (or taupe), and fawn into fawn-caramel. The cream is also turned into apricot.
These cats are somewhat difficult to tell apart, I know, but from top left clockwise, we have: Caramel calico, lilac-caramel calico, and fawn-caramel calico.
There is a grey splot in the background, and the rest is transparent.
You can find this and more on my redbubble (x) I also take requests for this sort of thing and more, please see my requests page.
Despite showing up to the party hella late (Saturday afternoon to be exact) My family an I still managed to have a skele-TON of fun at AMW this year! And i gotta say this is the biggest project that i have ever tackled. 3 cosplays done in a month was asking a lot, but through pure determination, a little help from my family, and way to many double-shot caramel frappuccinos,
I actually succeeded in making all 3 ;w;. (we hit a few snags with Paps armor but that will be fixed for future cons ;P along with some cosmic eye socket lights for all 3 oooooooo :3c )
Undertale captured my heart, and here i show my token of appreciation. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity to challenge myself <3
And thank you to the lovely con goers that helped us take these pictures, if not for you we would be pictureless!
Every day at work you receive a sticky note with a rather flirty message on them sitting at your desk. They are from a guy called Derek, one of the officers here at CCPD, who you have barely said a word to. Sure you work with him but that doesn’t mean you know him or that he knows you. As a matter of fact the notes are getting a bit much but how can you tell him to stop? For all you know he might be a nice guy you’re just not interested.
Pushing it to the back of your mind you get on with some last minute paperwork before it reaches lunch break. Working in the forensic department is no walk in the park, you have seen some pretty grim things. It is your job to do an autopsy in order to determine exactly how a person died. Thankfully you have Barry to lighten things up, cracking jokes that never fail to make you smile. He makes you forget how morbid your work is. He gets to do the fun stuff analysing the crime scene while you are left poking and probing a dead person’s organs.The two of you work in conjunction to help solve cases.
Barry finally emerges from the labs, he must be done with his work. Sometimes you wonder how he gets everything done so quickly, it is uncanny. It takes you the whole day if not longer to get through most of yours. He strolls over to your desk with a huge grin on his face. That’s another thing about Barry he’s always happy and full of life. He sits down on the corner of your desk in a way that he can still see you, hands clasped resting on his lap.
“Almost done?” He has a quick peek at what you are writing when something catches his attention from the corner of his eye. It is a yellow sticky note with a message on it. Barry knows exactly what it is and who it is from but as always his curiosity gets the better of him, wanting to know what Derek has written to you this time.
“Almost.” You look up at him only to see him reading the note, not that you are surprised it has become a daily occurrence. “Barry.” You say in a disapproving tone.
“What? I just want to see that’s all.” He shrugs his shoulder unapologetically, a smirk on his face. Before reading the note aloud he clears his throat dramatically. “Hey baby, I hate that you keep giving me the cold shoulder like this but I just really want to take you out for dinner. What’s a guy got to do to take a beauty like you out on a date? When you think of an answer you know where to find me.” Barry reads in a very deep and ridiculous voice, making you chuckle even though you tried so hard not to laugh, you just couldn’t help it. “Man, I’d hate to be that guy.” Barry gladly hands the ‘love note’ back after mocking it.
Deep down it really makes him jealous that another guy is showing interest in you because secretly he has been crushing on you for the longest time. He just doesn’t have the guts to leave you cheesy messages. The fact that some guy you barely even talk to has the guts to make a move makes Barry feel even less confident in himself. Though he does flirt with you in his own subtle ways, such as telling you jokes.
to Starbucks for his morning macchiato—double espresso, triple caramel, shut
the fuck up, Sirius—every single
weekday for the duration of his freshman year.
sophomore when he finally gives in and rushes Delt-Ep like all other
respectable Black males not named Sirius.
after rush when he becomes the honorary Little Brother of the greasiest, most
second-string Hannibal wannabe in the history of the probable-but-not-publicly-proven
Great American Inbreeding Program. For the most part, Snape just sends him on stupid, perfunctory errands, nothing like the gross cottonmouth keg-stand
hazing bullshit that Malfoy puts Crouch through. And it’s annoying, of course,
especially since Snape wears a fucking TIMEX
with a periodic table-printed pleather strap, but. It could be worse.
it’s on an otherwise uneventful Friday afternoon in mid-October that Regulus finds
himself standing in line at Not-Starbucks, mentally steeling himself for the downright
emasculating task of ordering Snape’s passionfruit
chai iced tea—extra passionfruit, like, extra
extra passionfruit, it’s basically a whole new flavor of Naked Juice—from the
frazzled girl behind the counter. Suddenly, though—
slender girl with milky skin and fire-red hair chopped short to her ears is
tying an apron around her waist, impatiently looking up to scan the remainder
of the line.
Headcannon where Supergirl and Batgirl(no specific version, I’m personally thinking of Steph but Barbara and Cass could apply too) always try to outdo each other on what they order at Starbucks. Supergirl asks for a double caramel shot mocha blend espresso latte? Batgirl asks for a Starbucks drink from the secret menu that no one knew existed. Supergirl and Batgirl drinking their coffe and hearing the longest order they’ve ever heard, turning around, and see that it’s Tim ordering the drink.
Servey says: (Coffee: 25) (Venti mocha caramel double iced frappucino with blended strawberries and blueberries at the bottom and pineapple chunks garnished on top of 2% coconut whip and a chocolate straw with white chocolate on the inside and dark chocolate on the outside: 52)
Sergio had to pick his jaw off the floor after seeing all that text in such a little box.