iced venti

some superhero aus

- okay i know i just saved you from a burning building and you look beat but are you wearing crocs


- okay i know you just saved me from a burning building and you look beat but are you wearing crocs

- you come into the starbucks i work at in full costume and everyone is freaking out and yeah you might have just fought God himself but there’s still no way in hell i’m giving you your Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato, Sugar-Free Syrup, Extra Shot, Light Ice, No Whip™ for free forget about it

- i turned up to comic con in my superhero costume and people don’t think it’s me and keep saying my costume isn’t very accurate???? do you want me to accidentally break your arm

- no i’m not a superhero that’s my twin the only superpower i have is the ability to attract all this unwanted attention

- i’m just a superhero what i do is save the city i never wanted to be invited to walk the red carpet!!!! designer dresses are hella expensive!! i keep this city safe i don’t deserve this

BONUS: no NO i am not sitting next to chris evans at the oscars he’s captain america!!!!!! yes i know he’s acting but he does the superhero thing better than i do!!!!

- hey buddy everyone in the business meeting is staring at you because you left your mask on maybe you should like,,, take it off

- haha yeah right you’re a superhero bro h - diD YOU JUST SHOOT A LASER BEAM AT MY COLLECTOR’S EDITION LIFE-SIZE SCOOBY DOO

- i came in to get cough syrup not take a photo with you for your shop wall please have mercy i’m ill

Coffee Confessions - Chris Evans Imagine

This is the cheesiest title but whatever XD 

Summary: An ideal fourth date in February? Simple. A cup of coffee and maybe a confession or two that Chris has been keeping from you for long enough. He couldn’t wait another moment to tell you that he saw as the stars aligning for him; the moment he met you. 

Requests? Open - (ask here!)

Here are my two prompt lists if you want to request one from there: Prompt One / Prompt Two  - My Masterlist -  Chris Evans / Steve Rogers Masterlist

Warnings? Fluffy!AF  / CutiePieChris / 

People: Chris / You

“Now, remind me again why we are doing this?”

“Because! Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I give you something that you’re allergic to and you die on my account and your fans stampede to my house and then they kill me too.”

“You’re quite creative…”

You shrugged and looked down at your dirty boots, “Some would call me cynical.” Chris smiled and just shook his head laughing quietly to himself. “Well, cynically creative it is then.” 

A small smile on your face. He just grins down at you then looks up at the menu.“Okay, well I’m only allergic to two things; Shrimp, and Cats. So if you find a shrimp cocktail on the Starbucks menu, I suggest you divert to another food.”  A giggle flew out of your mouth, making the two dimples on the apples of your cheeks strike Chris’s eye. He looked in your direction as you stared up at the menu above the Barista when he saw the beauty next to him chuckling at his allergies. Chris looked at you, with a spark in his eyes, “What!”

“Shrimp? Really? Interesting…”

“Oh, well Ms. Perfect, what allergies do you have?”

“I’m allergic to men who wear t0o much Axe body spray.” Chris bellowed out a laugh and didn’t receive a wink of attention from anyone inside the cramped Starbucks.

It was a busy Monday morning in Manhattan, people didn’t have time to glare at the happy couple on a weird ‘eight in the morning on Monday’ date.

Slinging his arm over your shoulder, Chris brought you closer as soon as you two finally reached the register. Suddenly it felt a hundred degrees hotter in here than it did a second ago.

When you ordered for Chris you decided to get him an Americano iced, with milk and one sugar. Adding a cake pop to your order, much to Chris’s amusement. He knew that you’d steal it from him later.

“I’ll have a Venti, Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, and one slice of lemon bread to go, please.”

Your mouth must’ve hit the dirty Starbuck’s floor once he finished his order. You looked at Chris and saw he was amused by your expression when he glanced down at you, out of the corner of his eye.

“How the hell did you know that was what I liked?”

“Babe, we’ve gone on three dates and I’ve known you for what, a year now? If it’s mid-spring, and you aren’t wearing a jacket it’s an Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, but you hate the thickness of regular milk, and lemon bread because it’s fucking awesome. No matter how much hate lemon bread gets, you’d defend it to your last dying breath.”

“I just don’t understand why this generation has no respect for lemon bread. It’s disgraceful!” Smiling down at you, he rests his head on top of yours as you two wait for your orders to be filled in the sea of busy Bostonian’s.

“So, what does your daily horoscope say today…” He peaked over and smiled, leaning back so people couldn’t get a good look at his face. He didn’t want to be recognized on your date, he wanted it to be just you two.

“What does it say?”

“Well, Miss. Aquarius, you are having a five-star day- and hey! So am I, the Gentle and Genuinely Handsome Gemini, if I may add.” Rolling your eyes, you put your hand on your hip, rolling your hand forward for him to continue. “It says; Wait for opportunities to come your way. You are waiting for a sign but you will not receive one unless you shoot for your goals. You are going to cross paths with…” He pauses for a second and smiles, leaning back as he looks at you. “What? I’m gonna cross paths with what?”

“The love of your life.” He says quietly.

You stopped for a second, and don’t even care when your name is rung out, “Order for Steve and order for James.”

Your eyes are wide, even while Chris moves to grab both your orders, “It says that?” Chris nodded, bringing you the lemon bread and iced drink.


“Well, what does your’s say?”

Chris sighed in content, pulling the door to the streets of Pant Suits and Cabbie’s yelling at one another. As the harsh winter air hit your faces, the breeze takes your hair back. Brushing the curly strands off of your shoulders that we’re covered in a simple black peacoat. “It said, ‘Gemini, you have already met your one and only. Don’t let them walk away without telling them how you feel or it will haunt you. You’ll regret it the moment they turn away into another lover’s arms.’”

Smiling down at you while you two start the short walk back to his apartment, Chris couldn’t help but a breath escapes him at the side of your perfect, pinched pink cheeks and puckered lips from being chapped from the vicious blowing winds.   “Well do you think your horoscope is true?”

“Hell yeah…” Chris answered you coolly, although a wave of anxiety hit him when he paused for a second before shooting a glance at you and quietly repeating you back your question, “Do you?”

You don’t need to look up from your lemon bread to know he’s watching you, you could just feel the love of his eyes bearing deep into your heart, making it pump blood faster every time those blue eyes were looking in your direction. With a small sip of your drink to let the bread go down easily, you reply confidently to Chris, not even skipping a step. “Fuck yeah.”

Smiling at you no longer feels like enough for him, so letting all fucks fly into the wind, he stood in front of you and bent down to land an impassioned kiss on your stinging lips that now just felt numb. Numb with a bee’s sting of love.

Chris was kissing you at the traffic light, not bothering to worry whether the world was watching or not. When the walkers started across the street, your lips parted from each other and Chris guided you along, letting you lean on him as a bit of support. Still in shock of the electricity that now coursed through your veins bled straight into your heart. Your brain was a haze by the moment you two just shared with a thousand other people on the corner of Village Street.

Together, you walk silently now, no longer feeling the need to fill the silence. The sky was blue and the sun had risen high above you two. Feeling his hand reach yours, you hooked your fingers with his and felt them grasp stronger, intertwining his fingers with yours. Chris was clutching onto you as if he was gonna lose you in the bustling crowd. Suddenly it felt like your safety came before his own on the bustling streets.

After a while, when you finally reached his apartment, you two sat down and relax for a second with Dodger begging to play fetch with his favorite toy, a rubber turtle that didn’t bounce that bad but let Dodger get in a bit of a good exercise until you’d take him down to Berrington Park.

Chris suddenly gives you the look of the joker, with a wide grin that could almost appear as sinister.  He was too cute to be sinister, though.  You took a bite of the lemon bread that was barely left. You had one, maybe two bites before it’d be done. Scarfing it down in what you knew would be very unflattering paparazzi photos soon.

“You made those horoscopes up, didn’t you?” Smirking, Chris nods, taking an unauthorized sip of your macchiato. Not that you cared or anything.

“What did yours really say, Chris?”

“It said…I’d  fall in love with a lemon head.” Smacking him on the arm, you giggle before surprising him and bringing him forward with your hand on the back of his head.

“Your such a clown sometimes, Christopher.”

“Some call it more sarcastic or dry.”

A soft smile fell onto your lips as you press them barely to Chris’s. He felt like a feather now laid on his lips. Setting the two drinks on the coffee table, you just barely mumbled into his kiss as those large, beautiful, slightly chapped  lips brought you in, “The Sarcastically Dry Comedian it is then.”

Joie De Vivre

Summary: Bucky meets a sassy barista

Word Count: 1809

A/N: no one requested this but i wanted to do something else w the coffee shop au!/ story line idk

Pairings: bucky x reader

Fuck, this is the longest day ever, you complained to yourself as you foamed the milk for the thousandth time for the thousandth latte of the day. Your thoughts were interrupted by an angry customer yelling ‘why are you taking so long!’ Your grip on the cup tightened before loosening it up and turning around to face the person.

“We’re almost done,” your friend muttered next to you before you took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on your face along with a fake apology for taking up their time. Returning back to the register you call up the next person, grabbing an empty plastic cup and the black sharpie, ready to jot down their order -Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato, Sugar- Free Syrup, Extra Shot, Light Ice, No whip.

Ignoring the pretentiousness of the order you couldn’t help let out a huff at the ridiculously long list of instructions, but nonetheless you created the order, mentally cursing at those who decided to create fancy names for coffees. You tried to not scoff when you yelled, “Bucky, your order is ready!” while setting the drink on the counter in front of you. What kind of a name is Bucky, you wondered.

“Did you follow the instructions?” A quiet but raspy voice asked as a hand reached for the drink.

“Yes. I do know how to do my job,” you replied without looking up at the customer as you cleaned your station.

“Wow, employees really changed since I last came around,” the voice said and you could practically hear the smirk that was on the man’s face. You dropped your wash cloth on the counter rather dramatically, ready to give a whole speech to the stranger but when you looked up you couldn’t help but be in awe of him. The man named Bucky was wearing a red henley that showed off his muscles perfectly along with low riding running shorts and shoes. His brown fluffy chocolate colored hair fell gracefully to his shoulders and framed his face, exaggerating the blueness of his eyes, a juxtaposition to his rigid look.

“See something you like?” Bucky said with a shit-eating grin, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, ducking your head in hopes that the stranger doesn’t see you blush.

“Right, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow macchiato girl,” he said, raising his drink while he winked at you before taking his first sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.

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anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve owning an ice cream shop and just meeting Bucky on a hot summer day

It’s a stunning day, the first really hot one they’ve had so far this year. Steve’d woken up early – well, been woken early by the sun heating up his bedroom – and, after a beach run and fetch with Honey, a shower, and a venti iced coffee (two sugars and a pump of vanilla, because Steve runs an ice cream shop and that means he is allowed to indulge), he sits in the front booth of his shop to chalk up the sandwich board for the day.

It’s only 10:30 when they roll up to the curb outside. Steve can see them through the big front windows, can hear them too: the bike’s motor cuts through the cheery playlist Steve’d queued up an hour ago. The girl – maybe 14? – slides off the back of the bike, her pink helmet decorated with a big Punisher skull sticker. She unzips the pink leather jacket then takes off her helmet, passing it to the driver, who pulls off his too and nests hers inside his.

Steve stares as the man gets off the bike too, one long muscular leg kicking up and over the seat. He locks the helmets into the back box and nudges the girl ahead of him into Steve’s ice cream parlor.

They’re very clearly siblings. They share the same big dark eyes and wavy dark hair, plus the girl makes a point of stepping on her brother’s foot as he holds the door for her. In retaliation he shoves her head sideways as they walk up to the counter.

Steve watches. The man would be the perfect model, his features symmetrical, his mouth expressive, his eyes nothing short of smoldering. He looks at Steve, and one corner of his mouth twitches as he looks at him.

Then his sister elbows him, and he turns to glare at her. “Quit it, or I won’t buy you anything,” he threatens. “Bec, I swear, I’ll walk out of here with a huge mint chip cone and I won’t let you have any.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “I knew you’d say that. I brought my own money.” The man narrows his eyes at her, clearly stymied, and she turns to Steve. “Can I have a large cone with a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of black licorice, please?”

As Steve gets to scooping – he doesn’t scratch his shoulder, pulling up his sleeve a little by accident and showing off the curve of his bicep which Sharon says is his best feature, okay maybe he does a little – the man messes up his sister’s hair. “You’re gross,” he tells her.

“Right,” she replies, “because the guy who likes to add gummy bears and bobas  and chocolate sauce to his tangerine ice cream should be the judge of all things gross.”

Steve tries to hide his snort, because that is definitely more disgusting than any amount of chocolate and licorice, but the man catches him anyway.

“I’m being ganged up on,” he grumbles as his sister takes the cone from Steve, “I don’t even know you and you’re laughing at me!”

Steve bites his lip, trying not to laugh more, and the girl elbows her brother again. “Ask him out, Bucky,” she says, not even trying to be subtle about it.

Steve and the man – Bucky – both turn to look at her, mouths open, and she shrugs at them. “What? I’m just saying. You should.” She turns then to look at Steve. “Or you can ask him. He’ll say yes. I promise.”

“Becca!” The man grabs her, clapping a hand over her mouth and almost making her drop her ice cream. “Shut. Up.”

Snickering, she peels his hand off her face, pinkie first. “He saw you opening the other day and he’s been trying to get me to go for ice cream ever since,” she says, rushing so that she can get all the words out before he tries to muffle her again. “He’s been calling you ‘what dreams are made of’ because he can’t read your nametag which clearly says ‘Steve’.”

The man abandons his attempts to silence her, covering his red face with both hands. “Becca, you are without a doubt the worst person ever to exist,” he says.

She licks her ice cream. “Come on, the Red Skull’s got to beat me at that one.”

“Or the Mandarin,” Steve suggests.

“Arguably General Ross,” Becca continues.


At that, Bucky looks up. “Gods don’t count,” he says, and places his hand over Becca’s entire face. “You little meddler, I was going to get to it. What are you doing after this, Steve?”

Avengers Preference: How You Meet

Steven Grant Rogers (Captain America):

I sighed as I continued to punch the punching bag, and I grit my teeth as I clenched my fist. This was so frustrating. Clint was officially the most annoying agent in S.H.I.E.L.D.

I closed my eyes as I tried to block out his voice, but he continued to tease me, “Hey, (Y/N). Did you fall into a pile of sugar? Because you’ve got one sweet ass!”

I groaned, and I face palmed. I heard Clint cracking up, and I glared at him.

“This is the training room, Bird Boy. Either train or leave!”

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we were little girls with messy hair who wanted to shoot lasers at the people who hurt us. we made our barbies fly, made them spies, made them as strong as we wanted to be. they could stand up to the bullies. when we were older, we would ask, “where are the female superheroes?”

“it’s just a movie,” we were assured, “and what’s wrong with being the girl next door?”

we were angry adolescents with no safe direction to lash out in. we were not allowed to be violent. those of us who turned to our playstation were embarrassed for it. many of us were bullied. many of us turned to fantasy. when we were older, we would ask, “why is there only one playable girl character in this whole game?”

“video games are art,” we were sneered at, “i’m sick of these fake gamer girls ruining our media.”

we were high school girls who were worried we weren’t being kissed fast enough, even at 15. we felt shame boil up around our ears when men leaned out of cars to sling slurs at us. we wanted to feel good about ourselves but were sent home for showing our shoulders. what were we telling people by being so in love with our bodies that we showed them off in any small way. when we were older, we would ask, “why does this advertisement for socks have a barely-18-year-old girl lying mostly-naked on a bed?” we saw our own 18-year-old self, who could barely kiss right and still trembled about sex.

“relax,” we were told, “if you don’t like it, don’t look. if you’re mad they’re selling you your clothes like this, just don’t buy from them.”

we turned into tired adults. we have our fires burnt out. we have explained and explained until our tongues turned numb why we deserve to be able to live without fear. we got sick of being teachers. any dent we made was quickly refilled. we were sick of trying to talk to people who would never change their minds about us. we were sick of it. and we still asked: “where am i? where are the people who look like me?”

i once was in a coffee shop sighing to a friend, “why don’t people get that not every girl has the same body or same metabolic system” and i was interrupted by a large man who has no idea how i eat or how much i weigh or how healthy i might be, and he loudly and briskly informed me, “Victoria’s Secret models have a more common body type than you think. If you’re so pissed about not being like the girls on tv, how about you change what you look like?” i had gone 6 days without eating. 

so we made it up. we gave barbie a cape and our spotted dog the ability to control the weather. we wrote barely-legible fanfiction about vampires who were also terribly in love with us - because we were perfect in this world, unlike the mess of what really was - we crafted entire sub-stories about how the main characters in our favorite universes were secretly girls in disguise. we made 17-year-old characters who would cut the throats of anyone who hurt them. we drew pictures of women in full, angry armor. we wrote bad poems about the girls we loved and the ones we were jealous of. we hurt ourselves often, were excellent at denying ourselves in the name of something. we only ate salad, we wouldn’t touch grease, we didn’t buy certain things, didn’t get dirty. we used things to fill the gaps. bath bombs. fussy boots. venti iced mocha half-caf.

we made it up. we flooded the market. we put up pictures of ourselves smiling, with messy hair and silly faces, with back fat, with smudged makeup. we made videos perfecting our lips. we made art of possible fashion - all with pockets. 

a few girls take selfies at a sports event. they are slandered across the news for it. 

can you imagine? can you imagine the selfishness? the audacity? the self-possession one must feel to take a picture of themselves where they control everything? 

we don’t belong. images of us have to be photoshopped. made in buildings with perfect lighting. a young girl in underwear. we don’t belong. we don’t exist. keep quiet. if you don’t like it, don’t look at it.

The Wedding Planner (Part 2)

Summary: Being a wedding planner is all fun and games until suddenly you’re saved from an accident by the man of your dreams–later discovering that he happens to be your latest client’s fiancé.

Author’s Note: at last! part 2 of this series. thank you all so much for all the positive feedback I’ve been receiving, it means the world to me. I’ve had to re-post this a couple of times because it seems as if Tumblr is just preventing me from uploading new things I guess. Hope you like!

Part 1

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Perks, Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader (part three)

Prompt: Reader is a famous actress and gets shipped with Lin by the Internet.

Word-count: 1,049 (shortest one ever holla soz)

Warnings: Cursing, but then again, isn’t it always?


This part is more on the shorter side, but it’s meant to be a bridge in between pre-Norton and post-Norton, if that makes any sense???? Anyway, they meet, they bond, fluff ensues, the whole nine yards! (Kind of.)

I’d like to thank everyone who’s been liking this story so far, and everyone who’s been liking my stories in general. It’s still a little weird to me that people are paying attention to what I have to say. Much, much love. xx

Part One | Part Two

God, you had to be the biggest idiot to ever walk the face of the earth.

What were you thinking, taking this man you barely knew out to coffee? Taking this man, this man that you had been kind of maybe not looking forward to meeting, this man that you had been hoping would be terrible so that you would have something to spite the people who pushed you together with, with you to the nearest possible Starbucks location?

Was it to save face? Most likely, because in any other situation you would have said bye and bolted, but Lin, you find, was frustratingly different from any other situation.

So now you sat in across form him, in a crowded coffee shop you didn’t like, with a venti, iced chai tea latte and a bagel, fidgeting because all that prior confidence had fizzled out the moment you realized what you were doing.

“So,” Lin said, sitting down and nearly making you flinch, but you weren’t an Oscar-nominated actress for nothing. You cracked a smile at him as he set down his cinnamon bun and coffee. (He could drink any coffee, you learned, even the Starbucks black coffee, which was essentially liquid tar.)

“So,” you mirrored, and took a sip of your latte to somewhat douse some of the nerves that had settled in your stomach. You wondered at what the hell you were trying to do here, and what you should be doing. You opted for honesty. “I don’t remember seeing this in my itinerary this morning.” Close enough, you decided. It was true, anyway. None of this was expected.

It was enough of an ice breaker to get a laugh out of Lin.

“Oh, trust me,” Lin said, eyes sparkling, “if I had seen ‘Bump into a person you admire as she runs from cameras’ on my schedule, I would have been a lot less useless in that alley back there.”

You raised an eyebrow, playful. “And what, pray tell, would you have done?”

Lin puffed his chest out. “I would have blasted those assholes away with my ray gun, obviously.”

You laughed.

“You’ve never seen it?” Lin asked, incredulous and impressed at the same time.

You smirked, shook your head. “I’m a big believer in letting the hype die down before going into anything.” Both of your cups were empty by now, and you reckoned that the only reason you weren’t being politely asked to leave was because they knew who you were (which was presumptuous as hell, but these days, it happened a lot more often than you would have liked to admit) or they knew who Lin was. (Which he vehemently denied, claiming that since he had his hair cut, less and less people recognized him. “It must be all you, King.” he said. You chucked your straw at him.)

The conversation at hand was how you, miraculously, had managed to live and breathe in New York City for a period of time (six months, give or take) without having been bitten by the Hamilton bug.

“It took a lot of work,” you said sincerely and in all seriousness, causing Lin to laugh. “I’m serious! Trying to escape from your show was like trying to outrun a constantly oncoming bus. And it didn’t help that everyone back in in LA was trying to get me to listen to it as well.” But they had failed miserably, and you had dutifully remained ignorant to the magical pull of Hamilton that seemed to attract others like flies to honey.

“But you were invited to the Tony’s, and as far as I know, you went.”

“Yeah, I was there.” You nodded. Lin’s brow furrowed further.

“How did you not hear us perform then?”

You smiled innocently. “I went to the bathroom and plugged my ears.”

Lin started to sputter, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline, lips pressing together to try and keep himself quiet, but he was failing. He cracked, laughing so hard that he had to hold his stomach. You couldn’t help it, you joined him.

It was around the time you had pulled yourselves that you noticed the anxious looking staff standing next to your table. The poor teenager was wringing his hands, looking from you to Lin as if terrified.

“I’m sorry, ma’am and sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave—“

“Oh, no problem, we’re going.” Lin said cheerfully, smiling widely at the boy who looked even more terrified at the prospect of telling Lin-Manuel Miranda and Y/N Y/L/N that they were being kicked out, and them being perfectly lovely about it.

“We must’ve been disturbing the peace, oh dear.” you said, chuckling, as you got up.

With barely a squeak, the staff escorted you and Lin to the exit, the both of you cooperating and going along with it like it was the most typical thing, to be thrown out (although rather politely) of a chain coffee store.

When the doors swung closed behind the two of you, Lin doubled up in laughter once more, and you rolled your eyes, starting to walk in a direction that was familiar to you.

Lin hollered and ran to catch up with you, falling back into step pretty quickly.

“I did see you in your first show, though.” you said, looking at him from the corner of your eye. You saw his raised brow and looked at him fully. “Oh come on, what’s that face about? How else would I have referenced a song as you literally saving me from falling on my ass?”

“It’s nothing! It’s just I didn’t think you knew I existed so…” Lin shrugged, and this show of genuine self-deprecation made him more endearing to you. (More so than he already was.)

You parted ways near Wimbledon, with each other’s numbers on your phones and promises to meet up at some point. (At some point after Norton, at some point after all of the hype you both had made up for yourselves had passed and the waters were steady enough to dip your toes in once more.)

You stalled for a moment as you watched him leave, before looking down at your watch.

“Shit.” you muttered before taking off.

Your lunch break had already ended ten minutes ago.

Boss~Calum Hood

You paced around your apartment waiting to leave the house for your interview. You were a fresh college graduate and you already had a few interviews set up. Of course you weren’t expecting much, maybe just being someone’s assistant but that was fine with you, you need to get the bills paid. Your dad said he couldn’t only pay for a few months more before you had to pay. 

You finally left the apartment, it would look good if you were there early. You made your way to the building, going inside and knocking on the door to the office that read ‘Calum Hood.’ 

“Come in.” He called from the other side and you opened the door. “Oh. Hi.” He smiled. 

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yes hello I work at a donut store come my children listen to my stories

-once had a dude come in and ask for a Steak Burrito. yes, he was serious. Yes, he left without buying anything else bc we did not have a steak burrito. I strongly resisted telling him Taco Bell was just up the street

-you have no idea how many times we have bitches come up asking for a grande or a venti iced coffee. Lady, are you colorblind? My apron is not green and I have small medium and large cups. Take ya pick, Becky

-Splenda and skim milk ain’t gon help u when you put eight shots of flavor swirls in your coffee but good on u for trying.

-No, we do not have a Hot Donut Sign™ and you asking for fresh donuts is getting old af. We bake them (not fry them) the night before and they stay fresh. Get over it, pissbaby

-After a morning rush we ran out of ALL of our donut holes. Afternoon was ugly. Had at least four cars leave the drive thru without buying anything bc we didn’t have any donut holes. After I reminded them that the donuts themselves are cheaper

-Seen at least 20 dogs in drive thru and exactly one cat. The highlights of my day

-Had a man come in through the drive they during a rush. I made his box of donuts and coffee. Three hours later he brings it all back and demands a full refund for the untouched donuts and half-empty coffee. Apparently he took the donuts to church and no one ate them. Sorry bud, we can’t refund that.

-Had a drive thru assface tell me “Good girl” for handing him his order. My manager told me I should have barked at him for it.

-Ive lost count how many times grown ass men call me baby, honey and sweetheart. kill me slowly instead pls

-speaking of grown ass men one came over to my drink-making station (tall ass counter btw, you can barely see over it or interact with me and that’s the point) to loudly ask me for my “Big Sexy Donut.” Im not sure what kind of innuendo that’s supposed to be but I don’t want to find out. Weird ass mf

-Again, we don’t do burritos. Why do you people keep asking for those sir we serve DONUTS

-also we do make croissant breakfast sandwiches but I’m sorry we can’t make them when there’s only two people in the goddamn store listen bub if you came here for a chicken biscuit THERES A BOJANGLES LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES AWAY OK and like I have people super pissed that we can’t serve them at all hours of the day depending on when our sandwich person is here. You think I wanna deny u your sandwich?? Literally have dozens of people pull out of drive thru bc I can’t make u a fucking sandwich

-also?? if we are out of something. I apologize. But I can’t control that. I would LOVEEE to get u what u want but sadly?? I can’t always do that?? don’t get upset w me bc im the bringer of bad news! DONT SHOOT THE FUCKING MESSENGER

-ma'am please don’t blow cigarette smoke in my face in the drive thru window

-also dude u and your three buddies are too high to be driving if u can’t remember your order when I ask u to repeat it for me. Also u don’t need all those sandwiches in the first place when u have three big bags of cheetos in the front seat. pls go home

- the two vape dudes are chill tho smelled like cotton candy and they didn’t blow it in my face. kudos to u bros for being decent human beings

- for the love of god don’t honk in the drive thru line bc that goes directly to the headset in mY EAR

-ma'am I know the customer is always right but your daughter can’t be older than 8 and she doesn’t need espresso. she doesn’t need any kind of coffee. pls rethink your parenting

- no we don’t have gluten free donuts

Espresso Yourself

drabble commission for @thecelestialchick! Thanks so much for commissioning me, McKay! <3 

type: coffee shop!au (fluff! so much fluff!)

pairing: nalu

word count: 1100

characters: natsu, lucy, jellal

“I’d like a venti iced white mocha with no whip and light ice,” the woman at the counter repeated once more, causing Lucy’s anger levels to spike. She was a newbie at knowing coffee orders, but by the way the woman was treating her she had to remind herself to bite her tongue. Her manager Jellal had warned Lucy about the woman in a quiet voice when she walked in, but he forgot to mention that the customer was a regular.

“Of course. And would you like any syrups to go along with that?” Lucy asked with a saccharine smile, and the woman huffed.

“Toffee Nut. Didn’t I mention that to you already?”

‘No,’ Lucy wanted to say, ‘I must have left my mind reading skills at the door today.’ The woman pinched the bridge of her nose, seemingly having a headache come on from such a problematic barista.

Funnily enough, Lucy felt one rising up the back of her neck herself.

“Five sixty-seven,” Lucy said, the same grin creeping up her face. She had mastered the art of the fake smile quite young as boys would ask her out on a weekly basis that she had no interest in whatsoever.

As she began to make the drink, she contemplated spitting in it and serving it to the customer. Thankfully she held her tongue–quite literally–and continued making the drink until someone interrupted.

“Hey, Luce!” a voice said from up at the counter from where she made the nasty woman’s drink.

“Natsu!” Lucy replied, her day instantly starting to turn around. “What would you like today?”

The man stood at the bar looking at all the treats the shop had to offer before making his decision, stroking his chin in fake contemplation. As he did this, Lucy handed the drink to her customer who stormed away without even a ‘thank you’. She definitely didn’t expect a tip from the woman, but it didn’t take much to be a decent human being!

“I think I’m gonna try the marinara pretzel with extra hot sauce,” Natsu said as soon as Lucy bustled over to the counter to help him. When he looked at her, his grin stretched across his face with genuinity. His eyes stared deep into hers as if he were searching for something.

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Dear Evan Hansen AU: Of Coffee and Daisies


“I hate this job. So freaking much-damn it Alana where’s the cinnamon?”

“How should I know? You were there last one to use it.”

“You should know by now I can’t believe trusted to take care either myself or anything around me.”

“What’s the order? Maybe they won’t notice.”

“He wants an Iced, half caff, Ristretto, venti, four pump, sugar free, cinnamon, dolce soy skinny latte. I think he’d be the kind of ass to know if we didn’t out in any cinnamon.” Jared didn’t like working and it it wasn’t for his discount as an employee he would definitely not be working at Starbucks. The meeting place for everyone from teenage girls to hipster douchebags mooching off their free Wi-Fi. “Nevermind I found it.”

Fixing the over complicated order he handed it to Alana to take out but not before contemplating spitting in the drink too give the thing a little more “flavor”. Deciding against it Jared turned back to look at the entrance as the bell rang letting them know someone else had come in.

“-how have you never been to a Starbucks before?”

“They didn’t have any where I used to live.”

“Wow, you really are small town. Come on, we can look at the menu and I’ll buy you anything you want. Just don’t make it too overly complicated, that’s kind of a douche thing to do. Unless Jared’s working, then feel free to make it as overly complicated as possible.”
Ah yes, Zoe Murphy. She worked in the flower store across the street from them and was a regular, always ordering a caramel Frappuccino. They went to the same college and had…differences in approach to school. Close behind her was a new guy wearing the smock for the same store. His eyes nervously darted around the small store from him to the menu to the people around them.

“How’s my favorite hipster doing today?”

“Piss off Jared, Evan’s never been to a Starbucks so I’m treating him.” The guy’s fingers twitched as he looked over the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jared as he began to stutter out his order.

“W-what’s y-y-your closest thing to bb-black?” Jared was a little surprised by the request, unable to imagine this kid drinking anything but a hot chocolate.

“Our dark roast?”

“Y-yeah, t-that.”

“Will that be tall, grande, venti or trenta?”

“I-I-ugh, what?”

“Small, medium, large or extra large.” Zoe translated, glaring at Jared as if it was somehow his fault Evan had never been to a Starbucks before.

“Oh, uh, er-grande? I think?”

“With the Frappuccino that will be six dollars and eleven cents today.” Handing him her card Evan’s shoes widened at Zoe.

“T-t-that’s pretty expensive for some coffee.”

“It is a damn fine cup of coffee,” Jared said as Evan stared at him strangely. “Come on it’s a reference.”

“Nobody gets your dumb references Jared.” Rolling his eyes Jared finished their orders handing them to Alana as he went back over to the register. The two were about to walk out the door when the guy (Evan?) came back, grabbing a few napkins before running off. On the counter was their receipt, flipped over with something written on it.

‘I like Twin Peaks too.’ Jared laughed, finally someone who got his reference.

When We First Met

Summary: Soulmate au where if you draw on yourself, it shows up on your soulmate’s skin.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1815
A/N: Thanks so much to @wanderingforhome for telling me to do this and giving me the energy to actually write something for once c: It’s based off of a post from tumblr but i couldn’t find the post again so creds goes to whoever thought of this yikes (EDIT: The post can be found here) xD Thanks for reading!
Song Creds


Dan grew up in a world of art. Where there was a pen, there was always skin to draw on, and that meant people would be able to walk the streets with art down their arms, wondering where their other half could be. Because Dan lived in a world where you could draw all over your skin and the exact same drawings would show up on your very own soulmate; the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.

People were absolutely obsessed with the idea of finding their soulmate. Whereas Dan didn’t particularly care if he found his straight away (Let’s be honest, he’ll find them one day so he’s not in any hurry right now), everybody was a scrambling mess of writing and drawing all down their arms so they could find theirs. That was why most people worse shorts and short sleeves, to show off the ink on their skin in hopes they would come across someone else with the same exact marks. Of course, they could always just write down their name on their skin, but that would be breaking the law.

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Summary: You can’t sleep, so you decide to wake Tyler.

Word Count: 549

Pairing: Tyler x Reader

You rolled over and laid your head on Tyler’s chest. You felt it rise and fall with each breath he took and looked up to see him sleeping peacefully.  A glint of bright red lights catches your eye from the right of you, and you can read 1:38 in the middle of the thick darkness of the room. You had been awake for almost two hours after Tyler had fallen asleep. Contemplating it, your lonely side gets the better of you as you decide you can’t handle it anymore and poke his cheek.




“Y/N, wha, what?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“So you woke me up? At whatever time it is,” he said with a yawn.

“It’s 1:40 now,” you said, looking at the clock. “And I can’t sleep. It’s been almost two hours.” You finished, wrapping your arms around his upper body.

“Oh yeah… ‘Oh, don’t worry, eight isn’t too late to drink a venti caramel iced coffee!’” he mimicked you with as much energy as he could have in the middle of the night.

“Hey!” You said playfully, slapping his chest. “It’s not my fault Mark wanted to film another challenge video and needed a camera person and asked me to do a thumbnail!”

He just giggles at you, squinting his eyes.

“Tyler Scheid. Do. Not. Laugh. At. Me.”

“You’re adorable, Y/N,” he said, as he kissed the top of your head. A nice silence fell over the room and Tyler thought he might be able to go back to sleep. You laid there with your head in the crook of his neck and had one arm on his shoulder and one arm thrown across his torso by his hip, stroking his side. Just as Tyler closed his eyes as if he was going to sleep another 40 years, you opened your mouth, ready to speak.

“Do you believe in aliens, Ty?” He grabbed a pillow and smacked you square in the head, careful not to do it to hard.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Y/N.” He said emotionless. You didn’t back down.

“No, I’m serious. The universe is huge. We can’t be the only people in it. Like, there has to be oth-”

“I swear I love you, but- where do you get this stuff?.” He sounded more awake now, cutting you off.

“Excuuusee me. I. Was speaking.” You sassed him as much as you could. “Anyways. There has to be other species out there. We can’t be the only ones.”

A sigh came out of the lump lying next to you. “Yes. I agree. Please baby. Just. Go to fucking bed,” he whined

“Alright. I feel kinda tired now. I can probably go to sleep.” When you finished that sentence he looked as if the heavens had opened up for him.

“Goodnight. Love you, Ty.” You wrapped your arms back around him just as before and nestled back into the crook of his neck, intertwining your legs.

“Goodnight. I love you too, Y/N.” He said, wrapping his arms around you and planting a kiss on your lips, before succumbing to his sweet slumber once more.

You felt a minor smirk planted on your face as you yourself finally came to peace with the night and fell asleep.

That Could’ve Been Us - Part 1 (Zig x MC Fanfic)

Summary: Hartfeld University Coffee Shop. It’s been 6 years since the last time you saw your senior boyfriend. 6 years since you broke up. But when he walks into the coffee shop, all the memories of the past come back to life, leaving you wondering about what could’ve been and what could still be.

Author’s note: Part 1 of 2. ;)

That Could’ve Been Us - Part 1 (Zig x MC Fanfic)

She was about to turn a page when she heard his name. Her fingers froze at the corner of the dog-eared paper, the words beginning to swirl unintelligibly before her eyes. A silence followed in the coffee shop after the name was called out. “There must be other guys named the same,” she mumbled to herself, shaking her head and flipping the page of her book. But she couldn’t read any longer. That name. It was a name she hadn’t spoken out loud for many years, a name she hadn’t heard anyone say in years either.  

“One tall chocolate chip frap for Zig!”  

It’s the name again.

Cautiously lowering her book, she looked around the coffee shop for signs of the dark-haired guy that caught her eye back in college. “It’s impossible,” she whispered to herself. The last time she saw Zig was at her college graduation six years ago. He had teased her she looked sexy in her graduation gown, and even asked if she had time to put anything on beneath it. She remembered giving him a stern look and punching him playfully on his tattooed shoulder, though a little flattered the thought crossed his mind.

“Is there a Zig in here?”

It HAD to be the same Zig. She had met no other Zig even with all the traveling she did after college. If it WAS Zig, what was he doing back in Hartfeld? Zig had enrolled during her senior year, three years after Chris’ program on “second chances” was finally running smoothly. She remembered how Zig’s eyes widened when he cracked open his first college textbooks. She had caught him inhaling the scent of the book’s pages, and he had sheepishly grinned at her. She recalled how they had carried the books together to his dorm room. She also remembered stripping off his signature white shirt, and he unzipping her jeans shortly after, hurriedly making love before his roommate arrived. 

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anonymous asked:

McCree is actually the one who likes bitter unsweetened tea, meanwhile Hanzo is the one ordering a venti Iced Peach Green Tea with agave at Starbucks.

No. The only tea McCree will drink is southern ice tea. But yeah Hanzo is a regular at Starbucks they just have his order ready when he walks in

1D as the customers i've dealt with at starbucks
  • harry: the guy who asked me if we serve bulletproof coffee and explained to me that it had butter and coconut oil. i told him we didn't have either. he proceeds to make me add coconut syrup and flakes to his coffee. after drinking a sip, he tells me he hates it and asks me to make him a half-caff soy vanilla latte
  • liam: the guy who comes in every day just to buy a bottle of water even though he could just ask me for a free venti ice water or just go to the vending machine outside and get the water for cheaper than we sell it.
  • niall: the kid who came in and asked me for a grande cup of marshmallow whipped cream and proceeded to sit in the corner and eat it with a spoon
  • louis: the customer who comes in every day to the point i can make his drink without speaking to him. once he caught on, he started changing his drink. once i'd remember that new drink, he'd change it again. this has become a cycle and it happens twice a week, every week to "keep me on my toes"