tepid coffee

Things I like about working security in an industrial setting;

I can answer the remark “You look grumpy today…smile!” when I zombie my way in at 0550 in the morning with “Fuck you,” and then when the same dipshit of a co worker says “Aww, that’s not nice, smile” with “If you tell me to smile again I will dump this tepid cup of coffee over your head” and my boss just goes “Man, if you keep poking at her before 10 AM I am not responsible for her actions”

Noise Complaints

Summary: A Supernatural AU. Dean and the Reader are next door neighbours. Dean has an active sex life that keeps the reader up at night. One night, the reader decides she’s had enough and decides to confront Dean.

Pairing: Neighbour!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 3,349

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sexual intercourse. A smidgen of Jealous!Dean.

Gif Credit: [x]

A/N: This is my one-shot entry for Michelle’s [@luci-in-trenchcoats] AU & Things Challenge. I chose to write the Neighbour AU with Dean. (I entered this challenge with my old url which was @winchesterdeann.) This is my first challenge, so I hope you all like it.

Please do not post any of my work on any other websites. Thank you.

Feedback of any kind is welcome and highly encouraged.

Thank you for taking the time to read my writing.


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The Blackouts (Part One) - Stuart Twombly

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The Blackout, Part One”

Relationship: Stuart Twombly x Original Female Character

Based on: Writer In The Dark - Lorde, which you should listen to just cause it’s like so a part of this fic…

Author’s Note: So, my first Stuart. It is purposefully detailed as all get out and poetic-ish. *shrugs* This will only be two parts, and the second part will be coming soon enough.

Additional Note: *** so anything that looks like this is a lyric from “Writer In The Dark” by Lorde… I generally use italics for a greater effect on a certain part of a sentence, which I still do, but in the part where she is reading from her book, anything that is italicized but not bold, was borrowed from Said the Shotgun to the Head by Saul Williams. That is not my original content. He is a brilliant poet, and I am not, but I wanted Penny to be. so, credit given where it is due. ***

Summary: At age 18, Stuart Twombly met and fell in love with Penelope Marshall. At age 21, he let her go. At age 27, he saw her again.

Originally posted by mieczyslawr

“Hi, I’m sorry, I really don’t want to bother you, but are you Penelope Marshall?”

The hair on Stuart’s arms stood at the sound of that name. He lowered the volume on his laptop, as a new song began to play, and then pulled his headphones from his ears altogether. The coffee shop had died down as the lunch hour crowd had begun to clear out, and the tables around Stuart’s began to empty. He looked around to see where the conversation he had managed to overhear, in between changing songs on his computer, was coming from. Three tables down he saw a girl standing in front of a table, and then saw a familiar sight: a pair of blue slip-on Toms, ankles crossed, resting on an empty chair. Stuart thought that it had to be a coincidence, and yet, he continued eavesdropping.

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Kiss Me Before You Go - (A Minseok One-shot)

Pairings: You X Minseok

Rated:  15+ for Adult Situations, Sexually Suggestive Themes

Genre: Romance, Angst, Past-life AU

Prompt: You meet Minseok in a bar and swear that you know him from somewhere. You have no idea where you know him from, but now you have to do something about it.

A/N: One-Shot Prompt Challenge taken with @thesammtimes​, @3kpop2jagi1​, @xiubaek13​, @artificialskyway​, and @forexcapism


Hyolin - Each Other’s Tears

Sam Kim - Who Are You

Soyou - I love You

Warnings: Adultery, Multiple Major Character Deaths, A rollercoaster of emotions.

Length: 27K words, I’m so sorry.

Certain things leave a mark on the soul.

Some events are so profound, they slash in deep jagged wounds, pulling at the flesh and ripping through tendons with such ease one would think the soul was made of nothing more than a pad of soft butter forgotten beside the stove.

Birth, heart aches, love, death. All of these leave their marks. Some bigger than others, but nothing leaves a mark quite as deep as watching the one you love, die.

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Title: Boys Break Hearts (Part 6 Back to the Future(Reader x Peter Parker))

Summary: The reader gets a surprise visit and a shocking confession from Peter, who hasn’t been around in a while.

Word Count: 2212

Warnings: Angst 

A/N: I’ve been working on this all week during my vacation and I hope it’s perfect and you all enjoy it! This series is def my favorite!


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One More Time~Olicity Hiatus Fic/Season 6 Spec Fic

Hello all! So this time I’m doing two Hiatus fics. This idea just sort of popped into my head after all the wedding talk from the Nashville HVFF invaded not only my head but dash as well. As always thanks again to @thebookjumper for organizing this event. It’s truly an honor to see so many writers creating such amazing work for this incredible fandom. 

Prompt: One More Time

Read it here or on AO3

One More Time

Oliver didn’t hear the soft patter of his small feet until the tone of an innocent voice shattered the quiet of the dimly lit room.

“Oli…” his voice broke as Oliver’s shifted his crestfallen eyes. Oliver smiled slowly at the mop of light brown hair.

“You caught yourself that time,” he teased making his sleepy eyed son grin with ease.

His eyes flickered down to the floor when a small, “Yeah dad I did,” floated through the shy smile that nearly matched his own.

Oliver remained seated at the small kitchen table with one of Felicity’s laptops in front of him. The screen was covered in green lines with small dots of red and, yellow hovering back and forth over the cities borders. He folded his fingers around the handle of a half consumed cup of coffee. William remained at the opening of the hall. His nervous toes tapped over the dark hardwood floors. The hall light was on above his head; the light casting over his messed hair highlighted the innocent frown lines upon his small face. Oliver tipped the cup towards his lips then muttered lowly, “Did you have another nightmare?” before the tepid coffee slid over the lump in his throat.

Williams’ small fingers curled over a small piece of crinkled paper. His twinkling eyes remained shrouded by the shadows around the highlighted crown of his head. Oliver placed the cup on the wooden table silently. The computer before his face flashed but, did nothing to send him toward the partially open window. His son’s lip seemed to quiver before a rushed, “Was she your one?” came floating through his nervous mouth.

Oliver’s fingers fell together over the soft keys’ that she’d once touched while his forehead fell into the created net. “Yes but there’s no was because she still is,” he softly admitted while the sound of crinkled paper floated through the air.

Oliver shifted his head so his temple was resting over his joined fingers. His blue eyes met his son’s nervous ones before they slipped to his shaking hands. He pointed with his gaze towards the small object that seemed to be the source of his son’s unease. “Wanna tell me what’s bothering you? Or would you like to show me?”

William gave him one of his rarely seen heartfelt smiles before looking down over his knotted hands. “Mom…” he sighed with more sorrow than anyone should ever know, “always said, that everyone had someone.”

Oliver’s pursed his lips silently then nodded before a small, “And you’re wondering how I’ll move on if she was mine?” escaped past his tight throat.

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The Countdown

Don’t let the first line confuse you; this story is completely Destiel ;)

Ten hours. Ten hours until he married Crowley.

Castiel glanced down at the engagement ring on his hand, smiling softly. He knew that he was up way too early; he should try to go back to sleep so he could rest up for the big day ahead. All of the wedding magazines said to get as much rest as possible. But he found he couldn’t. He was too excited, and it’s not like he could just shut it off.

Plopping down onto the bed, his eyes studied his spackled ceiling. It was the same ceiling he’d been staring at since he was a young kid merely speculating about this distant moment. So much had changed since those juvenile speculations. He was older now, wiser. He knew that the man who’d starred in those early visions was just a fantasy. Here and now, in reality, he knew that, that…that man would never be the man Cas would say “I do” to. That man was just a fantasy, and Cas was here in reality.

Nine hours. Nine hours until he married Crowley.

Dean stared down at the phone in his hand, willing for the courage to rise. He needed to tell Cas. He needed to tell him now, before it was too late. He couldn’t leave it unsaid, not any longer. He’d been running for long enough. It was time to stop running and stand.

Eight hours. Eight hours until he married Crowley.

           Naomi gazed lovingly at the scrapbook opened across her lap, her fingers brushing reverently over the glossy photo of the young boy with dark hair hugging the young boy with the green eyes and the smudged face. Naomi had watched them both grow up, the neighbor kids, always in and out of each other’s lives. At one time both Naomi and Mary had thought … but that didn’t matter anymore. Things had turned out so differently than they’d ever planned.

           The young, dark haired boy would marry in eight hours, someone who was not in any of these childhood photos with him. But that was okay. Naomi already had a new scrapbook prepared for the photos that would come, photos of anniversaries and children and pets and vacations. Photos of a different life would fill the new scrapbook. Naomi felt a wisp of sadness, a tiny little pang at the thought that the new scrapbook wouldn’t have any pictures of the boy with the smudged face.

Seven hours. Seven hours until he married Crowley.

Michael sat in the garage, shining the barrel on his shotgun. Not that he planned on using it. Just in case the groom decided to pull any hanky business, like running away. Michael had already seen his little guy cry enough in his lifetime. Today’s tears, if there were any, would be tears of happiness, and nothing else.

Six hours. Six hours until he married Crowley.

           Anna tried wrapping the long strand around the barrel of the curling iron again, cursing her lackluster hair’s inability to hold a curl. She’d be the best looking maid-of-honor this city had ever seen, even if it killed her. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was maid-of-honor; she’d been maid-of-honor before, and it hadn’t mattered quite so much. But they’d already been warned by the mayor’s staff that the newspapers would be out in full force for the ceremony, capturing the exact moment when the city’s most beloved mayor took his new groom. With an exasperated huff, Anna released the non-curl and started again.

Five hours. Five hours until he married Crowley.

Dean couldn’t wait any longer. He had to tell Cas. He had to tell him now. He pressed Send.

Four hours. Four hours until he married Crowley.

And Cas was seriously sneaking out for coffee with Dean now? Sam sighed and shook his head as he set down his phone. It was almost indecent, the bond between those two. Sam understood that they were childhood best friends; he had grown up with both Castiel and Dean, he’d been there for all the good times and the bad between them. But Sam wouldn’t run out mere hours before his wedding for a coffee date with anyone, much less the childhood best friend he’d been in love with once upon a time.

Three hours. Three hours until he married Crowley

Cas stared down into his tepid coffee, his entire body numb. The sunlight shining through the window reflected off the tear streaks that flowed down his cheeks. His lower lip quivered as he attempted to pull his breathing back under control. He couldn’t look at the other person at the table yet. He was still too shocked. There’d been a time once when he wanted this. He’d wanted it more than anything. But now … Now?

Two hours. Two hours until he married Crowley.

Naomi called up the stairs again, her brow furrowing. Where was that boy?

One hour. One hour until he married Crowley.

Crowley checked his bowtie again, then his cufflinks, then his hair. He fiddled nervously with the buttons of his shirt, studying his reflection in the mirror. The love story of the century; that’s what the papers were calling it. He still wasn’t sure about that. He wasn’t even sure about … The knock on the door was unexpected. The note was even more unexpected.

At two o’clock, Castiel was supposed to marry Crowley.

It was supposed to be an event worthy of the love story of the century. 

Instead, Castiel Winchester was boarding the plane with his new husband; it was the beginning of their love story of a lifetime. 

Dean wasn’t running anymore; Cas wasn’t just dreaming anymore.

Title: We Deserve to Know (Reader x Matt Murdock)

Summary: Foggy and the Reader bombard in on a wounded Matt and demand answers.

Word Count: 1299

A/N: AH MATT!!! He has my heart. I hope you guys enjoy this! <3 

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Says Here You're Dead ch 1

Superphantom. Based on this hysterical headcanon

ch 2

Sam Winchester accepted his styrofoam cup of coffee with a half-hearted pluck from his brother. He set it down beside the humming vent of his laptop, untouched.

“What? Not even a ‘thanks’?” Dean asked between sips of his own drink.

“Oh, thanks,” Sam muttered in response, but his eyes didn’t lift from the screen. They flickered through text, absorbed with the kind of unbreakable concentration Dean never understood.

“Got something?” Dean asked, his interest piqued. He rested his cup on Sam’s shoulder, and his free hand gripped around the back of his brother’s chair.

“I think so,” Sam answered as he shrugged his brother off. “How’s a ghost hunt sound to you?”

“Better than another day of cable tv and internet porn.”

“Dude, serious.”

Dean smiled and took another gulp of his coffee.

“I can’t get much of a concrete source on this, but,” Sam slipped a hand around the backside of his computer and snatched a newspaper folded against its creases, “a whole town disappeared off the grid yesterday. No phones, no internet, no power as far as I can tell, and they’re saying no one could get in or out.”

Dean snorted quietly and leaned around Sam. “And you think we can get them back?”

“No, they came back on their own, sometime around 10 or 11 last night, but supposedly they’re blaming the whole uh—inter-dimensional travel they called it—on ghosts.”

Dean scrunched his eyebrows together, lips parted in doubt. “You ever heard of a ghost that could zap an entire city off the planet?”

“That’s why they’re saying ghosts, plural, and that’s not all.” Sam shifted his attention back to the computer screen; Dean’s eyes followed. “Apparently this town has been under ghost siege for two years, at least.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he did the math. "And we’ve never heard of them?”

Sam laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, well they claim they’ve got their own personal ‘ghost hero’ who cleans these things up before they get out of hand. Town’s small and pretty remote, so that doesn’t help news travel.”

Dean smirked at the image in his mind. “What they’ve got…vigilante Batghost looking after them?”

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A Badass With A Nice Ass

A/N: Requested by @fandomscompilation . Sorry, this took so long but because I haven’t written in a while I had INSANE writer’s block and then I kept getting distracted and aaaa. But I finally did it :’) It’s not as good as I’d have liked it to be but I hope you like it. 

Warnings: Blood, flirty bar women??? 

Words: 2776

Tagging: @mycuddlycorner

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

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What Would You Have Me Do?: Pt. 5

What Would You Have Me Do?| Mark Tuan

Pt. 1| Pt. 2| Pt. 3| Pt. 4| Pt. 5| Pt. 6 (FINAL)


The smell of lavender permeated the air as he sat on the bed with his phone in his hand. The sun shone blindingly through the windows and warmed everything it touched. He stared blankly at his bare bedroom walls as his mind turned over every possibility, examining and discarding one after the other.

He could hear her lilting voice as if she were in the room with him. A penny for your thoughts?

It was so clear. The teasing tone as she saw him slowly drift off while they were studying in the library. The sing-song quality to the phrase as they sat in their favourite coffee shop and drank coffee. The quiet concern ringing through when they were tipsy in the dark hours of the morning talking about everything and nothing.

A penny for your thoughts?

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So, uh. I might have done a thing. @noquirkyurl I will let you take almost full responsibility. Some of it also belongs to @amusewithaview and @jadziabear for reminding me how much I wanted this. Also, @thestanceyg and @nourgelitnius, I believe you expressed some interest. 

Without further ado, a work I decided to call Coquettish Ingenue

How do you tell someone that you have been and may still be extremely emotionally invested in their well-being and life? Especially when you have never actually met said person. Mindy had debated this question for weeks; ever since they brought Mark Watney home.

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anonymous asked:

Omg single dad harry having his girls sat in a line on chairs individually braiding their hair before school, carrying all 3 of their lunch boxes in one hand and all 3 school bags on his shoulders as they take it in turns to hold their daddy's hand MY HEART


He’s mastered all different kinds of braids, and they’re happily chatting to each other in their little school uniforms. Empty breakfast dishes on the counter. The smell of toasted bread and coffee still hanging in the air. And he gives them each a kiss on the cheek as he tells them go and put their school shoes on as he finishes their hair. Taking a sip from his now tepid coffee and putting the finishing touches on their lunches. He probably puts cute little love notes in their lunch boxes. :’)) He does up the youngest’s laces and reminds his middle bub to not forget her glasses (they’re new and she’s still not too happy about them yet). His oldest is bubbling about how they’ll get to use microscopes in biology (she wants to be a geneticist just like her auntie). There’s a double-check that everyone has their coats on. He clips the leash to the dog’s collar and hands it off to his oldest. His hand is never lonely as they make the walk to school and he waves them off once they’ve arrived. There’s three times the kisses and cuddles and, “Bye-bye, love you! Have good days! Learn loads!” Blowing so many kisses and waving as they skip towards the doors. xx.


Title: Christmas Elves (Reader x Peter Parker x Avengers)

Summary: It’s the reader’s first Christmas with the Avengers, and they get to help decorate the annual Christmas Tree with the fellow Christmas elves.

Word Count: 1754

A/N: It’s already the 12 days of Holiday imagines? WOAH!! I’m so excited!! I hope you enjoy this; I’ve been saving it for quite some time. :)I hope you enjoy, Happy Day 1!!

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Blindspot Secret Santa!...

This is for the lovely and patient @charloedrama !!! I hope your Christmas was everything you hoped for!!! This fic was written just for you:) I do hope you enjoy!!

The Morning After-

She sips her coffee while she watches the morning rays of sunlight push through the blinds, and play with the dust floating in the air. She’s got one bare knee pressed to her chest, arms wrapped around it at she lifts her cup, the other is bouncing under the table in a rhythm that speaks to the anxiety battling the joy in her blood. She turns her cheek and let’s the collar of his shirt wrap her in his scent. She’d picked it up off the floor where she herself had tossed it some time late last night.

She woke just before dawn, the habit unbroken even by the presents of the soft, strong, male body in her bed. She had tried to bask in his warmth but couldn’t sleep, couldn’t lay there any longer and worry about the repercussions of her actions.

They’d been stealing time lately. Finding ways to be together. Late night TV and Thai food, a Sunday drive out of the city, a second (much better), dinner with Sarah and Sawyer. He’d shown up last night with nothing but a smile and mouth full of kisses.

He’d kissed her breathless every time, but nothing more.

She knows he would have continued their pattern of quiet nights and soul shattering make out sessions if she hadn’t pushed him last night. She knows he’s been burying his needs under the respect he has for her. He wears it like shield; protecting both of them; she knows he’s been using it to keep himself from falling too far, too fully without knowing what she could possibly be to him. She’s grateful for his restraint. Knows they’re friends before they’re anything else and that friendship is what’s kept her afloat through everything that’s come their way so far.

She doesn’t want to be the reason she can no longer turn to him.

They’ve kept it quiet at work, have made a habit of staying out of each other’s way, of keeping the need out of their eyes when they’re forced into the field together. It’s not an easy feat and she’s pretty sure they aren’t fooling anyone.

If she’s picked up anything along the way it’s that life is way too short to waste time wishing and wondering. And yet here she sits; wishing for clarity and wondering if she’s ruined the single greatest friendship she’s ever had.

There’s also a smaller, much softer voice in the back of her mind hoping for another opportunity to get him naked. She can’t fight the smile that pulls her lips as she sips the now tepid coffee and remembers how she’d been the one to bring her to this exact moment. How he’d done his best, been a true gentleman, and held back from her advances as best he could.

They’d been on the couch, just like the night before; his hands under her shirt, hers in his hair. His mouth a masterpiece of passion and patience, his body braced, muscles taught under her roaming hands. Somehow she’s in his lap, her knees flanking his hips and she can feel how much it takes for him to keep from taking them somewhere they both want to go but are too afraid to attempt.
She has no idea why but all of a sudden she couldn’t find a single reason of any relevance to keep them here in this moment, to keep them from making something more of all the emotion and need and passion that’s been building between them. She remembers rocking her hips against him, remembers the way the air vibrated out of his chest and into her mouth and how he couldn’t not push back. How he lifted his back off the cushions, how his hands ended up at her throat, than her face and how he’d buried them in the hair at the at top of her spine. How he pulled his mouth from hers when she took the top two buttons of his shirt in her shaking fingers and started to part the soft cotton.

“Jane,” he’d said it like he couldn’t catch his breath, as if his heart was beating too fast and too hard for him to fully wrap his tongue around the single syllable. She knows exactly how that feels.

She’d lifted a hand to take his face, to pull him in until their foreheads bumped, met his eyes as she continued to slowly open the small, pearly, buttons down his shirtfront. He’d taken her hand and his eyes had gone still, they’d hardened instantly, giving off that defiant edge that she’s learned to love and hate in equal parts.

“Kurt,” she says his name and takes his mouth, once, twice, and pulls herself back before she can take them back under, “I wont hurt you, and I trust you not to hurt me.” His grip tightens in her hair, on her hand, his eyes close as his almost even breathing picks up again. “Nothing I can think of, nothing I can remember, has ever made me feel the way you do.” Her words are all but a whisper at the end, the gentle lift in her voice lacing them in faith and a touch of persuasion. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

He’d dropped his hands to her waist and his thumb had found her hipbone, fingers spread across the scroll inked on at her waist. When she’d started the pull his shirt apart again, he did not try to stop her.

And now here she is; lukewarm coffee, a hummingbird heart and the mans shirt wrapping her completely in him. He’ll wake at any moment and who knows what tone he’ll take on the events she’d single handedly started. She instantly doubts herself and every decision she’s made since she’d gotten him naked last night. She’s so wrapped up in her own worry she doesn’t hear him until he’s made it halfway across the room.

He’d pull his jeans on but hasn’t bothered with the button so they hang on his hips and she’s appalled with herself when her mouth waters at the sight of him. He crouches down beside her chair, one hand reaching for the coffee cup in her hands, the other starts off in her hair and slowly makes its way down her back. It’s a gesture of comfort, of affection and it’s more reassuring than any declaration of undying love could ever be. His face is soft with sleep and his eyes are full of questions, and she’s almost positive his mouth is smiling but she can’t see it behind the coffee cup he’s stolen and lifted to sip from.

She rests her cheek along her lifted knee, wraps her hands around her shin and threads her fingers together above Ana’s owl.

He makes a face and sets the cup back down, this time out of reach. “Coffees cold, Jane.” He drops his hand to the arch of her foot where it rest of the chair, lets his thumb and his fingers play across the rise of her ankle. His other hand is rubbing circles along her back, small, soft motions that make her want to close her eyes and just lean on him. “Come back to bed,” he whispers, “your feet are cold.” He stands and waits for her to follow, holds a hand out for her to take, and he knows she understands he’s offering more than just a lift up from her seat. Knows he’s giving her a part of himself, and asking her to do the same, all without having to say a thing.

Last night was her choice, and this morning is his.

She reaches for his hand and sets all her worries aside. Knows he’s the most important person in her life; her greatest friend, and greatest love, knows she will do whatever it takes to keep that friendship first and to make sure that love has room to grow.

When she stands, steps towards him, meets his eyes in the morning light, his smile blooms across his face and she knows she’s spent the better part of the morning worrying for nothing.


 My first fanfiction, featuring MGGxReader in a typical coffee shop kinda thing. I just thought it would be cute and i felt like writing. If you guys like it, I’ll add a part two but it was getting rather long and i thought I’d see how well received it was before i continued (:            

Summary: Reader is enjoying a rainy day at a coffeehouse in NYC when MGG finds himself spending the evening there himself. cuteness, maybe a lil fluffy. no warnings. feedback is very much appreciated!

music i listened to, to set the mood- if youre interested you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZ1CE1qAjA8

thanks for reading! 

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Title: Lost in Translation (fem! reader x Bucky)

Summary: Reader’s boyfriend Bucky tries to teach Russian, a language that is foreign and beautiful to reader. He tries to tell her how he feels in Russian, only for sneaky Natasha to find out about it.

Word Count: 1134

A/N: Omg Bucky my heart. I love him so much k bye I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

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