A/N: Hi guys, it’s been a while but, I think I’ve come up with something that you are going to enjoy. It’s a new series that I hope I can complete but, it’s open ended and has no continuing plot line, just a common theme which is the names. Each story is inspired by a shade of paint and each will be named for them. Now enough of my rambling, I hope you all like it.
It was a bright Saturday afternoon when Stiles and Lydia went out to the local coffee house. All around them were several high school and college students catching up on their work. The room smelled like fresh brewed coffee and it made Lydia’s stomach make a grueling sound.
Stiles looked at her from above his laptop screen as she clutched her stomach. When she noticed others staring, her face turned red and a sheepish grin crept on her face.
Lydia wasn’t stupid, however. She knew most of the staring girls weren’t distracted by her growling stomach. The boy sitting two feet in front of her was the apparent center of their attention. His focused eyes and dark hair that matched the very coffee they were drinking were hard to miss.
“Stop that,” she said suddenly.
The boy’s eyes traveled to hers again in confusion. “Stop what?”
Lydia rolled her eyes and he chuckled in response before returning to his note taking. She turned in her seat and lifted her bag which was hanging on the back of her chair.
The girl stuck her hand in the tote bag and groped around before wrapping her hand around the object she was looking for. Lydia retrieved her wallet from her bag and hung it back on her chair, trying to make sure it didn’t drag on the ground.
When she unzipped her wallet, Stiles looked up again. “You need some cash?” he asked before lifting his bum from the chair to reach his back pocket. He quickly pulled out his wallet, but only after Lydia had found a crisp five dollar bill.
“I’m okay, but thanks.”
Lydia stood from her chair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her green skirt. It fell a few inches above the knee, but it was long enough that she didn’t have to worry about her butt being exposed. Stiles didn’t have to worry either.
The line for the barista bar was long, but moved quickly. One of the baristas, Kira, was moving remarkably fast, preparing drink after drink.
At the register was an employee named Scott. Lydia could see him from the back of the line, which meant a lot considering her height of five foot three.
When Lydia reached the front of the line, Scott flashed a charming smile and asked, “Hi, my name is Scott and welcome to the Beacon Hills Coffeehouse how may I help you?”
Lydia stood on the tips of her toes to get a good look at everything in the display case. Breads, sandwiches, and cookies came in different flavors and variations.
After a good fifteen seconds of contemplation, Lydia decided on a bottle of water and buttered croissant. “Name?” the boy asked.
Scott entered her total and she handed the five dollar bill to the boy. He smiled as he worked the cash register and returned the change to Lydia.
Before going to pick up her order, Lydia placed the two quarters in the tip jar and shoved the one dollar bill back in her wallet. “Thank you.” Scott beamed.
Lydia grabbed her water bottle and tapped her freshly painted fingernails on the marble counter as Kira called out several names.
Kira was about the same height as Lydia with short and straight black hair. Everyone had figured she was filled up with coffee herself by the way she was moving. It was only her and Scott but, she was doing the job of three more people.
“Lydia!” Kira shouted before placing the warm croissant in a paper bag and sliding it onto the counter.
Lydia picked up the brown bag and opened it to smell the warm pastry. She closed her eyes and relished in the pleasing scent.
As she made her way back to the table, she spotted a girl walking past Stiles. As she walked, her hand swiped across the side of his laptop. Stiles looked up at her and gave a friendly smile before picking up a note she dropped on his keyboard.
Before he could open it, Lydia had tucked herself back into her seat and was chugging her water. “What’s that?” Lydia asked not so innocently.
“Nothing. Just a phone number,” Stiles shrugged as he threw it in his backpack. Lydia rolled her eyes in response as she began to devour her croissant.
Stiles felt her envy oozing from her ears. He grabbed her hand on the edge of the table. “It’s nothing okay. I can’t just throw it away when she’s watching.”
Lydia nodded and continued to eat her buttery breakfast. At one point Stiles tried to sneak a piece from her, but he didn’t have to. Lydia broke off a chunk and gave it to the boy voluntarily.
When she was finished, Lydia grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth, accidentally smearing her lipstick along with the grease. Her reflection in her computer screen angered her as she searched for her lipstick in her bag.
“I’ll be right back,” she groaned as she trotted to the bathroom with her bag over her shoulder.
Lydia looked in the mirror as she cleaned the red streaks of makeup off of her face. Angrily she searched for her lipstick in her small makeup pouch, trying not to drop it.
When she finally felt a tube of lipstick, she read the name at the bottom and popped off the cap. The color, “Flirt Alert,” was just between red an orange, just like Lydia’s hair. It was one of her most favorite and boldest colors.
Using a paper towel, Lydia cleaned the edges of her lips and stuck her makeup back in her tote bag. She fixed her hair in the mirror before pushing the bathroom door open and walking back into the cafe.
When she entered the cafe, the strong scent of espresso that she had gotten used to flooded her senses once again. However, before she could sit down in her seat, she noticed another girl in her place.
The girl was a long haired brunette who was doing her hardest to get Stiles’ attention. He was trying his best to focus on his work without being rude and ignoring her attempts at a conversation.
As Lydia neared the table, the girl noticed and bid Stiles a farewell. He responded, but only looked up at her slightly.
Lydia sat back down in her warm seat and stared down Stiles from above her laptop screen. “What did she want?”
“She said we have AP Biology together and she wanted notes.”
“You don’t take AP Biology”
“Yeah, exactly,” Stiles chuckled.
Lydia was about to respond but she heard the girl and her friends giggling from across the room. They were all looking in Stiles’ direction, but he was painfully oblivious.
In response, Lydia stood and leaned over the table. In one swift motion, she grabbed Stiles shirt collar and pulled his lips to hers. The kiss surprised the boy, but when he got into it, it turned sloppy and hot.
When she was finished, Lydia sat back in her chair and continued working as the girls sat silent in their booth.
On the other side of the table, Stiles was trying to reevaluate his situation. Lydia looked up at him and laughed.
“What?” the boy asked.
Lydia gestured to her own lips before saying, “‘Flirt Alert’ looks good on you.”
Stiles’ face turned red as he found a napkin and wiped his girlfriend’s lipstick off of his face.
Sometimes it’s 3 AM when you find yourself wide awake and wildly restless in both body + soul. As ideas stir within your mind, you might just find yourself contemplating brewing some fresh coffee and waiting for the sight of the grey December sunrise to peak out of the depths of the horizon. ….Aaand so you shuffle into the kitchen, pull out your french press + your journal and pry open the curtains to wait for dark to gracefully lift to light.
Yes, for me, this is definitely one of those mornings.
Shepard slogs out of her cabin, and follows the scent of fresh brewing coffee in the mess. Her bed is empty where Kaidan should be, and she reminds herself that it’s all to keep the crew from asking questions. He comes to her late at night, and leaves early enough in the morning so no one can see him leaving the Captain’s cabin. She hopes one day they can spend a morning sleeping in, just them, and no fear of what the Alliance will do to them.
She pulls on a sweatshirt and heads into the mess, where she spots Kaidan’s figure leaning against the counter. He doesn’t notice at first, reading something on his datapad. He cradles a cup of coffee in the other, and his eyebrows are knit together as he studies whatever is in front of him. While he does, she studies him.
She loves him, and she loves him in the morning, when he isn’t at his best. When his hair is still a mess of knots and curls. When he hasn’t had a chance to shave off a day’s worth of stubble yet. When sometimes his words are careless like a loose cannon, but full of the heart that he sometimes holds back during the day.
She awakens as the smell of fresh brewed coffee starts to tickle
her nose. For a brief, exciting moment,
it tricks her into thinking he is there but then she remembers him whispering
about the automatic timer in between goodbye kisses at the front door. At his front door. The thought, along with others from the day
before, brings a smile to her face.
He had found her packing her small bag beside of his
suitcase on the bed. He was leaving in
an hour for the States and she still had filming to do. She laughed when she saw him in the doorway,
a cheeky grin upon his face, and muttered something about it being weird her
being in London without him. She had
known of his plans long before and had made her own plans to retreat back to
her rented penthouse as he was leaving.
Brandon would be arriving to whisk her away just as Tom would be heading
to the airport.
So I finally finished and uploaded the first part of that Promptis fic I’ve been talking about and I…am actually really proud of it. It’s been a while since I’ve written a fic that was more than a thousand or so words with the intention of maintaining a series, so I’m extremely excited about this project.
You can find more details and the rest of the fic in the link, but here’s a preview:
Noctis sat the juice down on the table and leaned closer to
him. True, it was kind of sudden considering that he had only asked Prompto to
move in with him a couple of months ago, but it felt right. Noctis found that
he enjoyed waking up to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the light chatter
of Ignis and Prompto pouring over classified ads in the paper. He liked how
natural it felt to slide up behind the blond to nuzzle his neck as he placed sleepy
kisses on his cheek and Prompto would inform him of all the places he and Ignis
had looked at within budget. Sure, they could have stayed where they were at.
There wasn’t anything wrong with Noctis’s apartment, per se, but he admitted
that having something a little larger wouldn’t be a bad idea.
He’ll never forget the look on Prompto’s face that night. He
hoped he never would, either.
“Hello? Earth to Noct!”
Fingers snapped in front of Noctis’s face and it was with a
flush that he realized he had spaced out. Long lashes fluttered against his
cheek as he focused on Prompto, who looked mildly annoyed.
“Uh, sorry. What?” Noctis offered him an apologetic smile,
but Prompto just sighed.
“I said my break is almost over. I need to get back before I
get yelled at for being late. Again.”
Noctis laughed a little. Despite Prompto’s constant best
efforts, he always managed to be late somehow. It wasn’t usually his fault, but
the camera shop owner was no less lenient on him. He stretched his arms over his
head and groaned when his shoulders released a satisfying pop before answering
-My skin that feels the warmth of the sun
-My eyes to watch my children grow
-My ears to hear my children laugh
-My arms to carry my children and hug them
-My nose to smell fresh coffee brewing
-My mouth to taste the delicious food my husband makes for me
-My hands that carry out daily tasks
-My shoulders that feel like they carry the weight of the world on them
-My mind that can seemingly do 1000 things at once
-My body that created, nourished and delivered 4 healthy children
It’s a chilly October morning when the apartment next to his
finally fills, and Dean watches from his window with a fresh brewed cup of
coffee as the moving truck is unloaded. They keep pretty quiet for the most
part, seeing as how it’s barely six and the goddamn sun is just starting to
peek over the horizon. Good. Considerate neighbors are always a nice thing to
Dean sips at his coffee, wondering absently what his new
neighbor is like for a brief moment, then leaves his window to finish getting
ready for work. He gets all his lesson plans together, grabs the graded
homework, and is out the door half an hour later.
As he’s unlocking the Impala, Dean glances over to see a man
walking out of the apartment and to the moving truck. His dark hair is wild and
mussed, his sweater a soft-looking blue cashmere, and his jeans are
paint-stained and well-worn. He doesn’t have shoes on.
He looks over at Dean and offers a bright, kind smile and wave,
and Dean is completely frozen with awe when the dying grass beneath his bare
feet surges with life, becoming a vibrant, healthy green, and small, delicate
flowers suddenly sprout with each of his steps towards the truck.
Dean barely remembers to wave back before he’s in his car and
driving away, and he can’t get his mind to think about anything but the
friggin’ miracle he just witnessed
for the rest of his day.
Morning came too early for the compound, people wandering around groaning like the Walking Dead with hangovers that would probably kill normal people. Just as he thought would happen, Steve had woken up in the middle of the night to puke up what little was in his stomach, having forgotten to eat before he drank. And just as she promised, Hannah had come to him and had taken care of him, rubbing his back as the large man hugged the toilet. They were heading to the kitchen now, Steve looking like absolute shit.
Being one of the very few to wake up without a hangover, Leana took it upon herself to have plenty of fresh and hot coffee brewed, water and medicine on standby as people walked into the kitchen, and had different kinds of pancakes being made as people asked for them. She was rather enjoying herself, just humming some unknown tune as she concentrated on cooking and taking care of everyone.
In Greek mythology, Hestia was the goddess of home and hearth, and she represented the ideal of purity in these areas. Possibly for this reason Hestia was an eternal virgin, deliberately remaining aloof from the advances of the male gods.
you know. the one that only likes fresh-brewed-non-starbucks-coffee and wakes up at 5 every morning only to complain about waking up at 5 every morning and looks like hell washed over every consecutive day
Summary: Rick and Michonne discuss the past and the future.
Her side of the bed was cool and empty when he rolled over for a morning snuggle before the duties of the day called. He looked over at the clock and saw it was a few minutes to seven. He knew where she would be. While rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he tossed the blanket and sheet aside and stumbled out of bed.
The smell of fresh brewed coffee greeted him as he shuffled downstairs wearing just his pajama bottoms. He poured himself a cup before making his way to the opened backdoor and watched her. He loved how he was the only one privileged enough to see her this way: wearing only one of his t-shirts, barefoot, loose locs cascading down her back, her face turned upward with a slight smile as she watched the sunrise. Every few days she rose before dawn to catch the sky in motion.
He sipped on the bitter coffee, making sure to save some for her. Even though she told him she preferred tea, her lips always found the rim of his cup for a sip or two. He could never resist the way she smiled playfully as she did so.
She crouched down while balancing herself on her toes. The morning dew was cold and wet as she massaged a blade of grass between her fingers. Each day he found something new to love about her. Her appreciation of the little things in a world dominated by the big things made him fall even harder. He took another drink from his mug and smiled. Being lovesick had never felt so good.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked off into the distance at a spot at the edge of the yard,her brows creased and lost in thought. He felt his breath quicken as her lips opened slightly. As much he loved watching her, he preferred the mornings spent making love; languid and slow as if the world stopped just for them to explore how much they loved each other.
Judith slept in sweet bliss on the baby monitor in his hand. Carl was at Hilltop visiting Jesus. After their rocky start, Rick had come to appreciate and respect the man a great deal. He was happy Jesus had taken Carl under his wings as a mentor and surrogate big brother. The teen needed someone other than his parents to look up to. With a sleeping baby and a teen-less house he was about to ask her why they were out there when they could be doing other things to start their morning. Her voice stopped him as it cut through the quiet.
“Are you just going to stand there staring or are you going to join me?”
He grinned and placed the mug and monitor on a nearby table before walking out into the backyard. “You looked peaceful. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
She was still facing the sunrise as she reached out a hand beckoning him to her. “You never disturb my peace.”