no one but her understands my love for coffee

What happened then? You know, after you guys fought?”

Sighing, I took a sip of my now half filled cup of coffee. I stared at the evening sky that looked like it had been painted by the very own hands of God. So Amber yet so somber.

“I kept calling out her name, begging her to listen to me. But not once did she turn around, she never gave me a chance to explain. But one thing I know now for sure is that, even when she was mine, she wasn’t mine. I know that had her love been real, she would have stayed, she would have tried to understand me. And when they said that you can’t lose something you never had, they were lying. Cause i lost her, despite her not being mine.

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write
You Think I’m...Pretty?

Characters: Castiel x reader

Words: 1,269

Request: Can you do one with Castiel x reader is really shy and smol, where she somewhat hides/is really quiet around everyone (but especially Cas)? And at first he kinda gets hurt by this because he doesn’t understand that she’s just shy so he confronts her, but then it’s really cute and fluffy? Thank you so much! I love you blog so much btw❤️ 

Warnings: none

A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) Also! I am going to be posting every Sunday just so I can get myself on a schedule, and btw my requests are still open.

Originally posted by spnfans

You sat alone in the kitchen of the bunker. It was in the early morning where everything was still dark and quiet just how you liked it. Steam from your coffee filtered up into your nose and you sipped it little by little.

You were a quiet person so little moments like this was heaven to you. It was rare to have a nice cup of coffee with pure silence. Living with the Winchesters was great, but you never really had time for yourself.

Light footsteps sounded behind you and you sighed into your mug. Guessing by how heavy the footsteps sounded you assumed it was Sam, “Morning Sam,” you sipped your mug. Sam walked passed you and grabbed his own mug from the shelf, “Morning,” he grumbled which singled the rest of your conversation with him.

Keep reading

The loneliest place to be is on a pedestal.
No mercy lives there. No understanding. No
compassion. Only the expectation of perfection. Your humanness is not accepted on a pedestal-let alone celebrated.
The most precious people in my life are the ones who see all of me. The sensitive, emotional side, along with the fighter. The teacher, but also the crazy girl who startles easy, laughs too hard, and drinks her coffee with more cream than coffee. The ones that love and accept the whole package-mess, vulnerability, flaws and all.
—  Yasmin Mogahed
He would never admit it, but she terrified him. She was beautiful in a way that only the clenching feeling in his chest could explain. She was like the wind that cut into his cheeks on a chilly spring day and her touch felt like red flames that always left him enveloped in smoke. Her dark, brown eyes reminded him of bitter coffee and deep secrets. She always challenged his ideas and always pushed him to be something greater than what he really was. Her mind seemed to understand even the darkest parts of the universe. But most of all, she loved him with such great intensity; an intensity that he didn’t quite understand or deserve. And that is what terrified him. Never being able to love her back in the same way that she made him feel.
—  Except from a book I’ll never write #7// I think this is my favorite one

anonymous asked:

Omg I love my grandma but she's from that old school "WHAT HAPPENED TO SERVICE" generation and I hate shopping with her. Even in a drive thru the worker will say over the speaker "hi how can I help you today!!" and she'll SCREAM "SMALL COFFEE ONE MILK" etc etc without any greeting or manners :( I guess she doesn't understand it's the person talking, not the machine, but it's still rude