that next perfect cup of coffee

what the houses are...

Ravenclaw is… starting that new project without finishing the one from yesterday, messy rooms, 3am talks, theology textbook one day and Stephen King novel the next, cloud watching, star gazing, cups of tea paired with random musings, quirky nicknames, having someone constantly read your feelings, a wonderful kind of sleepy, knee high socks, coffee dates in little cafes, re-reading favourite childhood books, art time-lapses, constant fiddling,

Hufflepuff is… when you grip someone’s hand mid horror-movie, blanket forts, the feeling of taking off your bra at the end of the day, when you find that perfect gift for someone, ice cream dates on sunny days, knowing there’s a shoulder to cry on if you need it, the fuzzy feeling of making someone smile, pep talks, toasting marshmallows, falling asleep on someone’s shoulder, moments of ‘holy crap that’s the time?’, walking on newly fallen autumn leaves, swing sets,

Gryffindor is… when the teacher says you’ll be working in pairs and you and your friend immediately look at each other, the sting of a good hi five, when your stomach drops on a roller coaster, air guitar, laughing until you cry, snowball fights, looking up lame conspiracy theories, talking through a movie, smiling at strangers, getting into bed after a long day, cheesy pick-up lines, running your fingers through your hair, a cold glass of water on a hot day,

Slytherin is… late night drives, passing notes in class, telling awesome horror stories, the glint in someone’s eye when they know something that you don’t, fireworks, checking water temperature with the tip of your toes, truth or dare, marble sculptures, the satisfaction of knowing you’re right, scented candles, walking around in an empty house, hide and seek, collections, being told a secret,

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Winteriron, "You're surprisingly warm for someone called the Winter Soldier"

This is cute!


Tony sneezed; once, twice. A chill runs up his spine and across his shoulders. It’s currently smack dab in the middle of winter and, despite the heat being circulated throughout all the rooms in Avengers Tower, he still feels cold. He has long since ditched his jeans and well-worn AC/DC tank top for sweats and a hoodie. At this point, he is contemplating gloves or just going to bed. 

Cranky, Tony more or less storms his way towards the kitchen on the main floor for a cup of coffee. He’d do hot chocolate, but FRIDAY informed him that Clint drank the last bit earlier that day and didn’t inform anyone. Now the streets were covered in thick blankets of snow and no service would be willing to deliver in this sort of weather. Not that Tony wanted them too. Safety of one’s self and all that. 

“Barton’s a lazy ass,” Tony mumbles to himself while shoving his hands, aching from the cold, into his hoodie’s front pocket. “Could have said something.”

It’s nearing midnight now and he had been in the workshop juggling a new circuit board while taking calls left and right from Pepper and Rhodey. Pepper staying in California (that lucky lady!) and Rhodey visiting family overseas, but both making time to talk to him. 

Most, if not everyone, has retired for the day. A sort of sleepy mood taking over the superhero residence as the snow drifts from the sky. Steve mentioned something about everyone playing in the snow sometime tomorrow. Probably after breakfast. Clint and Thor were instantly down with that. Natasha only grinned and Bruce offers a small smile. Then there was Barnes who didn’t react much to the idea of being out in the “snowy wonder” as Steve called it. Tony, however, passed almost as quickly as it was brought up. 

Snow is cold and wet. Two things Tony hates very much. But at Steve’s fallen face, Tony offers a list of Christmas-themed movies they could watch together. And relaxes when Steve accepts.

Upon finding the kitchen, Tony doesn’t bother turning on the light. It’s his tower. He designed it piece-by-piece and knows where everything is located. Even so, some light is supplied from the hallway right outside the kitchen. Just enough that he can see his coffee maker and just a bit beyond that.

Coffee going, Tony turns to the fridge to grab the milk. Opening it up, he scans the inside. 

“We’re out of milk too?” Tony groans.

“It’s on the table.”

Tony jumps. Anxiety coursing through his veins, he turns around and, with the light from the fridge, sees Barnes sitting at the table with a bowl, the new box of Fruit Loops, and the jug of milk.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes! Warn a guy, would ya?!” Tony snaps while closing the fridge.

“FRIDAY, kitchen lights at 25 percent.”

A dim, almost orange, light is suddenly cast over the kitchen. With the light, Tony is now staring at a shirtless Barnes in Bugs Bunny pajama pants who just casually spoons more cereal into his mouth. 

“Why are you eating in the dark, Barnes?”

Barnes shrugs. “Got good sight.”

“Oh, well. Warn a guy next time, please.”

“Okay.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Well, carry on.” He takes the milk from the table and sets about making himself the perfect cup of coffee all while Barnes chills at the kitchen table eating cereal.

When he’s done, he turns back to the table to Barnes frowning at the box in his hands.

“Uh, what’s wrong?”

“The cereal is all gone.” He ends with a pout.

Tony blinks because that shouldn’t look cute. He blames Barnes’ floppy long brown hair and five o’clock shadow.

“Get another box?” Tony suggests.

“This was the last of that kind.”

“Get a different box?”

“But I liked this one,” Barnes mumbles while scowling at the box like it is the most offensive thing in the world.

Tony’s mouth twitches into a smile. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna’ go watch pre-recorded episodes of Iron Chef America so you’re welcomed to join if you want.” And he walks out of the kitchen.

Moments later, Barnes shuffles out of the kitchen to observe the living room. There’s only an available seat next to Tony. All the other seats were covered in the team’s junk. He tentatively sits next to Tony, back ridged from the close proximity. 

“Chill out, snowflake. I won’t bite…unless you’re into that.”

And just like that, Barnes sags into the couch next to Tony. They sit there for nearly an hour when Tony shifts closer. It’s close to 2 AM when Tony just straight up presses against Barnes. 

“Something wrong, Stark?”

“You’re surprisingly warm for someone called the Winter Soldier,” Tony replies all mysterious like. 

Barnes blinks once, twice, thrice, and then he’s laughing. Tony blinks up at him, sees the mirth in his eyes, and finds himself grinning.

“Whatever you say, Stark.” He brings his arm up and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

The end!

home is wherever i’m with you

length: 1k

genre(s): fluff

triggers/warnings: none

a/n: thank you to @cherryonsimon​ for the beta and @amazingmsme​ for the prompt!!

baz has a thing for simon’s wings, especially when he’s having a bad day




Simon
I can tell Baz’s had a bad day the moment he enters the flat, slamming the door behind him and muttering about daft professors and fucking study groups and–for some reason–his father. Baz has bad days and then he has Bad Days, and I can tell today is the latter.  His face is pinched, his frown is deep, and I’m not shocked when he doesn’t stop to kiss me on his way in.

Baz doesn’t live with Penny and me, but he’s over here often enough that it feels like it sometimes. He’s even got his own key and drawer. His shampoo is next to mine in the shower. It’s not much different than when we were roommates at Watford, except it feels more domestic now, means something different. There we cohabitated because we had to, now we do it because we want to. It’s scary sometimes how okay I am with that.

Baz claims it’s just because Fiona is gone so much and he can’t be bothered to buy food, but I know better.

I also know better than to push him to admit things.

It took us a while to get to this point, if I’m honest. We still get into it, even now that we’re together. Some things never really change. He’s overdramatic, Baz is. And stubborn. And I suppose I can be a bit stubborn at times too, which isn’t very helpful when you’re having a row and neither side will back down.

But I’m always careful around him when he gets like this and I always know what he needs.

The first time it happened, we’d been on the couch watching Masterchef reruns. I’d been about to get up to get a snack because the show always makes me hungry, when I felt Baz’s fingers brushing my right wing. My first instinct was to pull it back until I noticed his expression. He looked peaceful as he stroked it and I found I didn’t mind the sensation all that much. Or having to give up my snack.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I pushed him away about 10 minutes later and got some crisps from the kitchen. He looked ready to throttle me until I handed him his own bag (salt & vinegar) and we resumed our earlier position.

It’s turned into a routine. Most days it’s just idle touches here and there, but on bad days, especially Bad Days, Baz likes to snuggle under them like a child. I don’t mind. I spent so long making him miserable, I’d do most anything to make him happy.

Baz
Fucking Snow is waiting by the door when I get home, looking like a kicked puppy when I shove my way past him to the bathroom. I strip down once I’m there and turn on the shower, hotter than it needs to be. I need to wash this day off of my skin, scald myself until it’s completely gone and I can forget about every little thing that went wrong.

I know he won’t try to talk to me about it. It’s one of the (many) things I love about Simon. He understands that sometimes it’s okay to just… not talk.

I can hear him bustling around the flat even through the bathroom door. He’s not exactly quiet, especially when he’s always bumping things with his wings or tripping over that damn tail.

I step under the spray and let the water run down my back. The slight burn feels good. Therapeutic. Grabbing my shampoo from the shelf where I’d left it the last time I was here, I start to wash up.

Occasionally I think I should stop pretending and just move in properly, but we really do need space from each other sometimes. Still, I’ve left so much over here. Like clothes. And shampoo. My shampoo that Simon used once, when his ran out, and I hated it. He smelled… wrong. Which is about a thousand times worse when you’ve got a vampiric supernose.

I finish up in the shower and put on a pair of Simon’s trackies. I briefly consider nicking a t-shirt as well, but the holes on the back always feel weird, like a draft right on your shoulder blades.

When I enter the lounge Simon’s waiting with a cup of tea and his wing open at his side. He’s put in the dvd for the first season of Downton Abbey, a major acquiescence on his part (although he does occasionally get into the storylines).  

I sit next to him and lean into his side. He rests his wing on my shoulder, effectively wrapping me up, and I exhale and reach for the cup. He’s made it just the way I like it, the way only he knows: with lots of sugar and light on the milk. The exact opposite of him. His own pale brown cup is sitting half-drunk on the coffee table, probably already cold. Simon has a habit of doing that.

“I like this.” I say and take a sip. It’s perfect.

“I know,” he replies, “you don’t exactly keep it a secret.”

It’s true. I’m a bit obsessed with Simon’s wings. Sue me. I’m always finding excuses to touch them, especially on days like this when nothing seems to be going quite right and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and hide from the world.

Once I’ve finished my tea, we rearrange ourselves on the couch so I’m almost in Simon’s lap and both of his wings are surrounding me. We lay like that until the first episode fades into the second and I realize that Simon’s fallen asleep behind me. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck as he begins to snore softly. It’s comforting, this routine.

I suppose it’s not quite normal–normal, not Normal–to enjoy being cocooned by a pair of wings belonging to your boyfriend, but then again, nothing about our life is.

And that’s perfectly fine by me.

roses

this wasn’t requested. (sidenote: do i even answer requests anymore?? i’m a terrible person…) i just saw a post and wanted to write something out of it.

masterlist

request

a/n: roses are my favorite so. i hope you guys like this one!


To say it had been a rough few weeks would be an understatement. 

Your homework had piled on top of itself, your mother was riding your ass about what your plans were after college, you had hardly slept, you had had a headache for the entire week, and to make it all worse, Shawn was touring. You were alone.

How’s it going, love?

You read the message on your phone, contemplating how you wanted to respond. You could either reply honestly and distract him from whatever it was he was doing, or you could lie.

Just great, baby. How’s tour?

Naturally, you choose the latter. There’s no point in bothering him or making him worry about you. You send the response and put down your phone, sinking into the couch and taking a sip of your tea. The mountain of work sitting on your desk is calling your name, a haunting shriek reminding you of your current unproductive state. But you can’t right this second, exhaustion has officially set in, and even the thought of moving from the silence of your living room is too much to handle.

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coffee girl // stuart twombly

Summary: Stuart develops feelings for the girl at the coffee shop

Requested: no

Pairing: Stuart & Y/N 

Warning: no, mature language and themes throughout

Masterlist

With perfect penmanship she wrote the customer’s name on the plastic cup in her hand. Announcing their total and sending them off with a friendly smile, she prepared to do the same routine with the next person in line.

Having been doing this for over a year and a half she knew how the flow of the small coffee house worked. Even though her day consisted of a routine that some might have found boring, she thought her job was the exact opposite of that. As soon as she stepped into the shop every morning and the smell of coffee cascaded around her, she felt like she was home. She no longer worried about her university courses or the term papers she had to do but instead focused on making the lives of the customers around her a little brighter by sharing a smile. 

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Image (Taehyung/Reader)

Prompt: Hey they~ can I request an angst scenario where reader and taehyung are both idols and are forced to date for public. It’s up to you on how you want to end it. Thank you! 😊

Genre: Angst

Words: 3.4k+

Author: Admin Meyg

Originally posted by bloodsweatearss


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anonymous asked:

You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay? Tbh I can see both Stiles and Derek being stress bakers haha

So, usually, I’d have Stiles be the stress baker, but I decided to mix it up this time. And who doesn’t love shy baker Derek? Also on ao3!

When Stiles moved into his little Brooklyn apartment after getting accepted into Columbia University, his new neighbor was nice enough to bring over a batch of cupcakes to welcome him to the building.

Moving across the country from a sleepy little town in northern California to the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps had been unexpectedly stressful. Stiles had never been away from his dad for so long and the vast distance was certainly putting a strain on him.

The jet lag had him feeling constantly exhausted and nauseous, even unable to sleep, lasting longer than he had anticipated. And the last thing he needed was yet another thing contributing to his insomnia, already needing two sleeping pills and his favorite pillow to be able to fall asleep.

All of that was in addition to the stress of having to dive headfirst into attending an Ivy League school where he would have to maintain a spotless GPA in order to keep his scholarship. It wasn’t achieving the good grades that bothered him, it was the suffocating pressure that accompanied achieving those grades, the mere thought of possibly disappointing his dad enough to make him think about just run away.

He was in the throes of yet another round of self-doubt when a gentle knock sounded on his door, interrupting what was sure to become a panic attack. Scrubbing a hand over his face as he shook himself out of his haze, Stiles had stood from his seat on the couch and jogged to the door, calling out, “Give me a sec!”

Praying it wasn’t the crazy old landlord demanding more money or his elderly neighbor who screamed bloody murder if he so much as sneezed a little too loud. It wasn’t. Instead of a grumpy man with his hand out or an angry little old lady, the most gorgeous person Stiles had ever seen had been standing in his doorway.

He was holding a tray of cupcakes in his hands and while any other time Stiles would have been captivated by the sight of detectable desserts, he was much more mesmerized by the sight of a beautiful man standing in his doorway. Because people who looked like the man in front of him didn’t just knock on his door out of the blue. It immediately had him thinking that New York City might not be so bad after all.

Whoever the hell he was, he had the smile of an angel, with bright white bunny teeth and the most kissable lips Stiles had ever seen, and all the dark features of a handsome devil. His hair was pitch black along with his thick stubble, a beautiful contrast to the swarthy tone of his skin and the light green in his hazel eyes.

And as much as Stiles wanted to take a bite of him instead of his cupcakes, he hadn’t eaten all and his stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. He could feel his face warm at the embarrassing sound, Handsome Stranger chuckling deeply and joking, “Guess I picked the perfect time to bring these over.”

Laughing nervously, Stiles had agreed and introduced himself to the man who turned out to be his next door neighbor, inviting him in to sit for a little. Over cups of coffee and the most delicious French vanilla cupcakes Stiles had ever tasted, his neighbor introduced himself as Derek Hale, explaining that he baked whenever he was stressed and figured that since he had already made some cupcakes he should bring them over to welcome Stiles to the apartment building.

It was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for Stiles and after the first time, it sort of became a thing. Whenever Derek ended up baking too much when he was stressed, he would bring some over for Stiles, either knocking on his door or leaving him a plate in the hallway.

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Just to be clear, it’s a date.

First I’d like to say thank you to @carryonsimoncarryon for being the most fantastic friend I’ve had in ages, and for being such an helpful and kind beta <#

Words: 1.3k
Find me / it on ao3

(Simon’s POV)

His black hair is hanging loose today, swaying gently against his face as he leans forward to take another bite of his sandwich. Those grey piercing eyes are as mesmerizing as ever, and his skin has a tan glow that seems to be shining especially beautifully.

I sneak glances at him every now and then, sometimes meeting his eyes, and my heart skips a beat.

He catches me staring again. Crowley, he’s beautiful; handsome, masculine and yet elegant, all at the same time. As our eyes meet, I smile back at him. His smile is the most heartwarming thing I’ve ever seen, and I can feel the heat rising to my checks. My eyes quickly dart back towards my cherry scone, hoping for the blush to fade. One day I’ll get up the courage to ask him if I can sit with him. I’ll talk to him, and maybe if I’m feeling especially brave, I’ll ask him out, or ask for his number. I don’t know yet. I have to work up the courage first. One day, but not today.

~~~~~

He’s still there every day at lunch. Today his black hair is pulled into a bun, and his stylish black turtleneck rests perfectly against his neck.

Today is the day, I told myself this morning, hoping that he might not be there. Hoping that he’d gotten sick of my staring, or that he’d have to work during his break, so that I’d have an excuse to wait another day or two.

It didn’t really surprise me when I saw him sitting there, in his regular spot by the fountain. As I meet his eyes across the park I realize I’ve stopped in my tracks, and I can feel my heart race. Today is the day, I tell myself once more. His smile melts my heart, and it gives me courage to make my feet move forward again.

As I walk, I stare intensely at my cup of coffee and the brown paper bag with a cherry scone in it. It’ll be fine. He won’t tell you to leave; he’ll be nice and talk to you. Okay, one foot in front of the other. Keep it going. I encourage myself to walk to my usual spot at the bench next to him. As I move forward, I can feel a pair of eyes at me, and when I look up, I meet his gaze. I smile as he shuffles to the side, making room next to him on the bench.

“Hi, can I sit?” I ask shyly. He smiles and nods.

“Why else would I move over for? Other than to make room for you I mean?” he chuckles, and I can feel my heart racing as the heat spreads throughout my body. This is my new favorite sound. It must be. I’m sure of it.

I sit down next to him; not so close that I’d seem like a creep, but close enough to easily see the color and pattern in his perfect grey eyes. They remind me of wet pavement, but they’re much, much more appealing to stare into. I support my coffee cup between my thighs and rest the paper bag with my scone in on top of it. Then I extend my arm out towards him.

“Simon,” I say, introducing myself.

“Baz,” he smiles, gently grabbing my hand and shaking it. It almost feels like silk, his skin, it’s smooth but his hand is freezing cold, even now this late in spring.

“I was wondering when you’d finally come talk to me, you know,” he says. “I’ve seen you staring.” He lets go of my hand before grabbing his cup and sipping his tea. Blackcurrant, I think, as the scent flows towards my face.

I feel the heat rising to my cheeks once again, and I look down, staring intensely at my hands.

“Well, here I am,” I whisper, almost regretting not having this conversation with myself in my head before actually approaching him. That’s silly, I know, because I could have never known what he’d say. But still, I feel like I should have a better answer. I nervously pull my hand through my bronze curls and I can see him. Baz. He’s smiling at me. I can see it from the corner of my eye, so I turn to look at him. Why did my words always come short whenever I tried to talk to other people than Penny? Penny is always easy to talk to.

“You- you know, I’ve been thinking, um, about asking y-you this, for… for quite a while now, actually. Um… Would- would you like to go out to dinner? Um, with me?” I stutter, pushing the words out, choking on them twice. I look at him for a split second, and then I ruffle my curls again, purposely putting my hand in the way so that I can’t look at him. I don’t was to know what rejection looks like. I  really don’t. At least not from him.

“Yes, I’d like that. Did you have a specific time in mind?” His voice is cheery, and I look at him from the corner of my eye as I slowly lower my hand.

“Really?” I ask, surprised before I can even stop myself. “I mean, I don’t. I thought I’d have to ask you first.” I’m stumbling over my own words, but I can’t help the smile spreading bigger across my face as I see him smiling too.

“I’d ask you to give me your number,” he says, and I feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. He’s just kindly rejecting me, I think. “But since my phone died this morning at work and I didn’t bring my charger, I’ll have to give you my number instead.”

My heart is racing. I was sure he’d been trying to reject me in the kindest of ways, but his phone is dead. That’s all. I grin, feeling relieved as he pushes his perfectly smooth, tan hand in front of my face, asking for my phone.

I dig through my pockets, wondering where I put that damn phone. Finally, as I feel a vibrating against my chest, I remember putting it on the inside pocket of my jacket. I never put it there, so why I did so now I have no idea. I look at the caller ID: ‘Penny’ it says, with a rather unpretty picture of me and her grimacing, both dressed up for halloween. I blush and hang up on her.

Suddenly, closer than before, I can feel Baz tense beside me.

“Your girlfriend?” he asks, slowly moving a few inches further away from me.

“Nope. That’s just Penny, my best friend,” I say, smiling reassuringly at him. She calls once more. And I hang up again before opening my contacts and offering the phone to Baz.

He grabs it, studying me; uncertain, as if he’s doing something he shouldn’t be doing. I nod and smile once more, and soon he’s saved himself as a contact in my phone. Handing me back my phone, our hands grace each other, and I feel my cheeks burning, and the butterflies going crazy in my stomach. I really do hate that I blush this easily.

As both of us realize that our breaks are over. we both stand up, almost mechanically. In the motion, as if on autopilot, I grab my scone and my coffee. And since we didn’t get a chance to discuss dinner any further, I tell him: “I’ll text you so you’ll have my number, okay? And we’ll find a time and date then?”

He nods, turning away with a smile on his lips. I grin, and since I’m feeling extra brave as we’re about to leave in our different directions, I turn halfway around and add over my shoulder: “And by the way, just to be clear, it’s a date.”

2

These two are beautiful together, I had to write this! Do they have a ship name?!
***

“Oh man! Do you think Tom Brady will be there? I hear he goes to all those ritzy gala things?” Archie was practically bouncing with excitement as Veronica smiled at the red headed boy.

“I don’t know, there’s so many celebrities it’s hard to see them all.” She shrugged, glancing across the table at Jughead and Betty, trying to gauge their reactions “you two will be coming right?” She asked accusingly, clearly there was no option, she was just asking out of curtesy.

Jughead rubbed the back of his neck
“I don’t know, that kind of seems like the opposite of… my type of…thing.” He finished lamely. He looked to his right, Betty looked nervous, her fingers were tangling in themselves as she chewed on her bottom lip, Jughead had to physically fight the urge to grab her hands and hold them, he hated seeing her like this. She finally spoke

“I just don’t think… I’m not sure I belong in a place like that Veronica, those people are so.. ya know.. with the models and the actresses. You fit in perfectly, you’re pretty much the definition of old Hollywood, I’m just… well I’m just plain old Betty Cooper.” She smiled sadly before continuing “besides… a gala? In New York? Thats big time, are you sure you’d even want us small town kids crashing it?” She asked curiously, this was a big deal, one of the biggest events of the year, what on earth would they do at a place like that?

“Umm hello, first of all you’re beautiful, you give Blake Lively a run for her money, and secondly, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you guys could handle it. My dad.. well, we need to keep up appearances and I always bring a group to these types of events, unfortunately they were all upperclass elite bitches, thankfully I have you guys now! you cannot leave me without my best friend! Come on B, It’ll be fun, what do you say? Be my entourage?” Veronica folded her hands and pouted.

Betty but her lip again and looked over to Jughead, he shrugged his shoulders
“I’m in if you are, might be good for my novel.”

Betty couldn’t fight back the smile as she rolled her eyes at the silly beanie wearing boy, leave it to Jughead to ease her troubled mind
“Alright, I’ll go.” She glanced at Jughead before adding “we’ll go”

Veronica squealed, leaning over the table and wrapping her arms around Betty, pulling Jughead in slightly
“Perfect! It’s tommorow night! Well leave in the morning and get ready in the hotel, I’ll have Smithers take your measurements Jughead and Archie, lord knows you need a suit that fits” she threw over her shoulder at Jughead as he pretended to be insulted, causing Betty to giggle and pat his knee. Turning to Archie Veronica placed a hand to his shoulder “and you mister, we’re getting you your very first suit, and this time..” she narrowed her eyes “no letterman jacket.” Archie put his hands up sheepishly as the table erupted in laughter, Lunch went pretty much the same after that, Veronica going on about all the dresses designers sent to her for free because of her last name and how Betty would look amazing in about all of them.

Jughead could sense Betty’s anxiety, he was very in tune with the blondes emotions, he figured it had something to do with the fact that he had been in love with her for as long as he could remember, but he hated the particular emotion she was feeling right now. Insecurity.
When the final bell rang, signaling lunch was over, Archie and Veronica said their goodbyes as Jughead and Betty headed off the opposite way.

“You know, Veronica was right.” He said quietly as they walked to Betty’s chemistry class, the green eyed beauty looked up , smirking
“Woah, I never thought I’d hear you say that.” Betty joked “what was she right about?”

As they reached the door to her classroom Jughead turned to walk away “you are beautiful, much more beautiful than anyone we’re gonna see tomorrow.” With that he smiled and walked off leaving a very confused, smiling Betty in his wake.

The day went by quickly and soon enough it was the next morning, a sleepy Archie and an even sleepier Jughead were standing at Veronica’s door holding duffel bags and coffee cups.
“It’ll be worth it dude” Archie Yawned “think of the buffet.”

Jughead groaned in appreciation, alright it was supposed to be quite the spread, he supposed he could make it. Suddenly the door opened revealing Veronica in a dark purple tracksuit, her hair perfect and her pearls still resting on her neck, she plucked the coffee from Archie’s hand and started heading down the stairs, pulling Archie by the hand and talking a mile a minute, Jughead assumed this wasn’t her first coffee.

“And we’re off”

He turned to the sound of the voice and smiled appreciatively, there’s his girl. Betty was dressed in a pair of soft black leggings and a light yellow tshirt, a loose gray hoodie, unzipped over it, her hair was in a perfect messy bun and she looked beautiful.
“She was up at three this morning.” Betty explained, locking the door behind her “lord knows how many cups of coffee she’s had, by the time I got downstairs she was all out.”

Jughead laughed, handing her the second coffee in his hand, Betty beamed up at him taking a sniff of the Vanilla caramel, reaching up she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek
“Thanks Juggie” she whispered.

Jughead felt his cheeks heat and he threw an arm over her shoulders
“Anytime Bets. Anytime”

The car ride to the airport was filled with an overly caffeinated Veronica talking about all the things she would show them in New York, tomorrow of course, today was all about getting ready for tonight’s event. the plane ride was faster than expected and both he and Archie had fallen asleep on top of each other, when the girls took their phones out to show them the pictures, they both rolled their eyes and called the girls insane.

He had to say goodbye to Betty as soon as they reached the hotel, apparently getting ready took longer than he had expected. Archie ordered more room service than he had ever seen, apparently all guests of the gala were able to enjoy all the amenities for free, something both boys took advantage of until the hair stylist came to fix them up. It was strange for both the boys having someone get them ready but by the time they were done, they were almost unrecognizable. Jughead had tried to sneak his beanie in but Marco the stylist was having none of that, threatening to cut the offending hat with his scissors.

Staring at their reflections in the mirror, Archie looked over to Jughead and smirked
“We look good.”

Jughead rolled his eyes and punched him the shoulder, fighting off his own smile. If he looked like this, he couldn’t wait to see what Betty looked like… oh and Veronica too, sure.

They both headed down the stairs and Jughead found her instantly, he was fairly certain he was having a stroke, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She looked amazing, something out of a magazine, he had to look around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, glancing at Archie he saw his best friend was standing stock still, staring with the same face he was wearing, only Archie was staring at Veronica in her gorgeous black gown while Jughead wouldn’t be able to tell if there was anyone else in the room. She was glowing, her tan skin looked shiny and soft in the white dress that hugged every perfect curve on her body, her silky blonde hair was intricately twisted up and a few loose strands were in her face, she was wearing more makeup than she normally did but it only enhanced her features, bringing out the green in her eyes and the perfect pink of her lips. She was a vision and he was fairly certain no one could compare. As he approached her he saw the moment she looked at him.

Betty’s eyes widened as she took in the gorgeous dark haired boy wearing the perfectly tailored suit and thin black tie, he was devoid of his beanie and Betty wanted to nothing more than to bury her fingers in his mass of black waves, without his hat she had a better view of his cloudy blue eyes and she felt her knees go weak at the way he was staring at her, she had seen Jughead in a suit before, but never like this. This was a whole different person and she was very interested to meet him.

“Hi.” She whispered “you look amazing”

Jughead shook his head, his eyes still staring into her own
“There are no words for you Betty Cooper, you are something in itself. I was right when I said no one would be as beautiful as you tonight.”

She blushed gently as Archie placed a hand on her arm and complimented her, Veronica smirked over Archie’s shoulder and raised a brow at Jughead, she knew how the boy felt about her best friend and if there was ever a time to make it known, tonight would be it.

Jughead swallowed hard at the knowing look in Veronica’s eyes “you look great Ronnie” he said as she thanked him and said “you don’t look half bad yourself jones.” Although she was speaking to Jughead he saw the way her eyes would always linger back to Archie, the girl had it just as bad as he did.

They drove to the event in a long black limousine, the windows were dark and he knew Betty hated that so he tucked her hand in his and held it as they walked out of the limousine and onto the carpet.

“Just stand and smile, they’re just a few pictures, you’re all wearing designers, it’s good to get there names out there.” Veronica whispered, With that the raven haired beauty grabbed Archie and headed off to the carpet

He felt Betty tense up beside him and he placed a hand to his shoulder
“We’re okay” he whispered, squeezing “I’m right here” she nodded nervously as they took their first position posing individually for pictures.
Jughead glanced at Betty as she posed beautifully and almost effortlessly, the photographers were eating her up, he didn’t want to sound conceited but they seemed pretty interested in Him as well, they must have stepped into the twilight zone, as the flash went off he walked over to Betty and grabbed her hand, they both waved as pictures were snapped of the couple before heading inside.

She let out a soft sigh Once they entered the room, Jughead laughed, letting out his own sigh and smiling goofily at Betty. They eventually found Veronica and Archie and enjoyed mingling with celebrities and meeting Veronica’s old friends, Jughead was completely full off of the buffet, Archie looked equally stuffed, Betty stood up to adjust her dress when suddenly a long blonde haired boy who looked suspiciously like Jughead approached her.

“Hi, my names Dylan Sprouse, I hate to sound creepy but I’ve noticed you all night, you’re very beautiful and I’m afraid I’ve never seen you at an event before, I was wondering if I could have your name?” His smile was charming and Archie kept looking between the two boys. Betty smiled her gorgeous smile and shook his hand

“I’m Betty Cooper, I’m not from around here, I’m just here for a friend.” She explained, glancing at Veronica

“I see, is that friend .. a boy?” He asked, his hand moving to her shoulder. Ok enough was enough, Jughead stood up quickly

“Yeah, he is.” He stood tall, draping an arm over Betty’s shoulder and nudging the long haired boys hand aside “she’s with me.” He finished, staring dangerously at this Dylan boy.

Putting his hands up, Dylan backed away
“Alright dude, whatever. I was just being friendly.” He walked off leaving a very agitated Jughead and a very confused Betty in his path, before Betty had a chance to question him, Jughead asked

“Dance with me?”

Betty nodded quickly as he led her to the dance floor, holding her close against his body, he heard her ask against his ear
“What was that all about?”

Jughead sighed
“I don’t know Bets.. it’s just.. I hate the thought of someone else being with you, even touching you. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but.. I mean come on your shoulder? That’s my thing.” He grumbled into her neck, swaying slightly.

Betty giggled at the silly boy

“But… were not together juggie” she stated questioningly, pulling away so she could look in his eyes

“Yeah well… maybe we should be.” He whispered

Betty looked up, not surprised, just contemplative
“Okay.” She finally whispered

Jughead eyes got wide and he ducked his head
“Okay?” He asked

Betty nodded, beaming.
“Okay.” She repeated

Jughead brought his head down to hers and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, love filled kiss. She was everything to Him, she always had been.

“This is great and all, but I can’t wait to get back to our little Riverdale” she giggled against him as he nodded and smiled

“Me too Juliet , me too.”

You Are Not My Mother Part 3

Summary: Sam and Dean’s sister found out Mary was working with the BMoL. She took off with the Colt and plans to keep it safe.

Word Count: 1357

Warnings: None that I know of.

A/N: I can’t wait to write part four. You’ll see why. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Part 1 Part 2

      I finally pulled into the old salvage yard and shut my car off. I grabbed my bags and headed for the door. I stuffed my key into the lock and turned it. Shoving the door, it finally opened and I entered the empty house. The house had been sitting vacant ever since Bobby died. His death had taken the biggest toll on me because he had raised me. If I wasn’t with Sam or Dean, I was with Bobby. On the rare occasion, I didn’t hunt with my brothers I stayed at Bobby’s place. It was my home and the boys didn’t know that I came here whenever I could. I dragged my duffel upstairs and tossed it on the floor beside my bed. I flopped onto the bed and hoped to get some sleep.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Flower shop AUs are new coffee shop AUs, so, please, do not write them either! Florist Harry is so sickeningly saccharine.

How about one where Harry is a barista and Tom works in the bookstore that the coffee shop is attached to

You know, because Tom is an aspiring novelist (or is he?), and he’s always ordering coffees on his breaks and writing in a little black book

like with ink

old school

Harry’s like wtf, why doesn’t this dude get a laptop like the rest of the world also hi hello he is very attractive and what is he writing about whAT IS IT 

…But he doesn’t ask, because Harry’s just so shy and adorable, of course.

But he’s also a little shit.

Tom notices that the bespeckled, fuzzy-haired barista keeps putting ‘Tim’ on his cup, and it pisses him off to no end because he says his name is ‘Tom’ every time and why can’t this ass just listen to him, it’s not that hard and he has clear and perfect annunciation, he knows he does.

“It’s Tom,” he finally corrects one day as Harry hands him his usual double espresso, no sugar, no nothing, black.

“Oh, Sorry.” Harry takes the cup back, crosses out the name, and very purposefully writes ‘TOM’ in all caps, so large that it takes up nearly the entire cup. Underlines it, circles it.

“Here you go.”

Tom glares, takes his coffee, walks away. Writes. 

The next time Tom orders his espresso, Harry writes ‘Not Tim’ on the side. Tom smiles in a manner that looks very painful, but says nothing. Takes his drink, walks away. Writes.

The time after that, Tom brings in his own coffee to work. “Sorry, Tom,” Harry says, loudly enough for his manager, his co-workers, and half the world to hear. “No outside beverages allowed.”

He points to a sign which verifies this. If looks could kill, Harry would have died on the spot, and Tom would have been happily responsible. 

But looks do not kill, much to Tom’s displeasure. He dumps his drink out and forgoes coffee that day. Harry has no idea what he’s doing or why, but for some reason driving Not-Tim mad has become his new favorite past time.

When Tom purchases a coffee next, Harry writes ‘The one and only Tom’ on the cup. Tom finally snaps when he hands him the espresso with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why is this so funny to you?” 

Harry’s laughing. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I suppose because it bothers you so much.” 

“Well, it’s annoying, Harry. Stop it.”

Harry blinks. “How did you know my name?”

Tom almost looks like he might hit him. “…You wear a name tag. You always wear one. So do I, because I work in this book store. My name stares you in the face every day, and yet you still refuse get it right.”

Hi, my name is: Tom.

“Oh.”

Harry blushes, because truth be told, he had always been too caught up on Not-Tim’s face and his little black book to notice much else. 

…Well, he might have noticed a few other things. 

Tom grows impatient and walks away. Hm, yep. There was that other asset Harry had definitely noticed. 

Tom sits at the table furthest from the counter and starts writing. It’s not until his manager yells at him to get back to work that Harry realizes he’s been standing there, watching Tom for what must have been far too long. His co-worker, Hermione, giggles at him.

“What’s so funny?” he growls. She touches his shoulder and sighs.

“You’re in deep, Harry,” she says. Her eyes flash in Tom’s direction, who is writing furiously with his back to them. 

Real deep.”

Operation OTP

A/N: A request from @minim236 for a Spencer x Reader where they are secretly dating, but the team doesn’t know and are still trying to get them together. @coveofmemories

                                                                —-

“Should we tell them?” Spencer asked you, after reading the message on his phone. 

It was 8 AM and you were on your way upstairs. Since you’d started at the BAU, and realized how close you lived to Spencer, you’d carpooled in each morning. After about six months, you realized how much you liked each other and started dating, but you’d been carrying on your relationship right under the noses of your friends and co-workers. Apparently, they also thought you were a match, because they had been trying to get you together for months. “Nah,” you replied, “It’s too much fun seeing how they’ll try to get us together next.”

“Well, tonight, Morgan’s plan is to get us all to go out drinking,” he laughed, taking another look at his phone. “He claims that if I get drunk, I’ll work up the courage to tell you how much I like you.”

Spencer didn’t need any alcohol. He’d revealed to you after a particularly rough case what you meant to him, and you told him you felt the same. At the time, he had been a little shy, but that all fell to the wayside when you kissed him. That night had ended with some heavy making out on your couch. “If he only knew,” you laughed.

                                                               —-

As they walked off the elevator, Emily, Morgan, Garcia and JJ sat against their desks trying to figure out how Spencer and Y/N hadn’t started dating. “They are meant for each other,” Garcia exclaimed, throwing her ring-clad hands in the air. “He’s a genius, she’s a genius. They are both the sweetest people in the world. They’re both cute, why aren’t they dating?” 

“You’re a little too invested,” JJ laughed. “I agree, but breathe. It will all happen in time. We’re gonna make it happen.”

Garcia sighed dreamily, craning her head in the direction of the hallway that led to the coffee shrine, which is where they were undoubtedly headed. “I know. It’s just…they’re my real life OTP, and I wanna make it happen.”

“OTP?” Morgan asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“One True Pairing,” Emily, JJ and Garcia said simultaneously. 

While Spencer and Y/N grabbed their morning coffees, undoubtedly downing one a piece even before leaving the room, Emily made sure that she, JJ, Garcia and Morgan were in a separate text feed. They needed to make sure one of them didn’t accidentally let either one of them know that the whole team, including Hotch and Rossi (to much lesser degrees) were rooting for them to get together. “I think they’re coming back,” she said quickly. “Abort mission. Fan out. Stay tuned.” As they all walked back to their desks, Emily waved her phone in the air. They had tried to push the two of them together on a couple of different occasions recently, but they were getting closer. Just another little push or two…

                                                              —-

Throughout the day, the four matchmakers exchanged a string of texts, trading ideas and attempting to figure out which one would work best for their one true pairing. 

M: These two are getting on my last nerve.

JJ: Why?

G: Because we’re pulling out all our best matchmaking moves and nothing is working.

M: Exactly.

E: Something has to work. We know they love each other. They know they love each other. It’s just going to take something really romantic to get things going. I can feel it.

JJ: They definitely are the romantic types. Okay, so let’s float around some ideas. What are Spence and Y/N’s favorite things?

M: Books.

G: Coffee.

E: Chocolate.

JJ: Star Wars.

G: Good, let’s work with this. What can we set up, involving one or more of these things, that might get the two of them to come out? And I suggest that we make it a group thing and the six of us will conveniently be late.

E: Agreed.

M: Wait…there’s a chocolate expo coming into town for a limited time.

JJ: How the hell do you know that?

M: I keep seeing flyers in my neighborhood. There’ll be sculptures and tastings and all that shit. What if we get them to go there?

G: Omg yes, and those expos normally have private viewings or classes, so we can book one of those for the two of them, say it’s for all of us and then wait in the background and watch the sparks fly. This is totally going to work. Look at my Statuesque God of Chocolate Thunder bringing out the chocolate expo!

M: I’ve always got your back, babygirl. 

G: I know you do, baby.

E: Down, children. Okay, so Garcia, you okay with looking into what kind of viewing or class we can book for them?

G: It would be my honor to be the catalyst of my OTP’s first kiss.

JJ: Smh

JJ: I think we’ve finally nailed down a fail-proof plan. Commence Operation OTP.

                                                             —-

“So what do you guys think?” Garcia asked you and Spencer. “We’ve all been under so much stress lately, and who doesn’t love chocolate? They have this chocolate making class you can go to. We can all go and learn how to make chocolate and then we can eat the chocolate. It’ll be so much fun.”

“I’m in,” you replied, knowing this was another one of their elaborate plans. “I could eat chocolate all day every day, so I’m definitely in if I get to eat some of the chocolate.”

Spencer swallowed, barely noticeable to anyone but you. He knew what they were trying to do. “Yea, I guess so. What time is it though? Because it’s on a Saturday, and we’ll be off from work, which means if I can’t sleep late, I’m not going,” he laughed. 

“You’re safe, Spence,” JJ replied, knowing how late he liked to sleep on the weekend. He was normally in a coma when he walked in no matter the day, prior to having his morning cup of coffee that is. “It starts at noon and goes until 6. The expo does. The class is only a couple hours.”

“Then I’m in,” he said, taking another swig of his coffee. “It’s next Saturday? Not this Saturday?” Emily nodded, taking solace in the fact that they’d come this far in their plan. “Dammit, now I want chocolate. To the vending machine I go…”

                                                            —-

One Saturday passed and the next arrived, which meant it was the day that Emily, JJ, Garcia and Morgan would execute their perfect plan. “This is so going to work,” Garcia clapped as they walked into the expo. Spencer and Y/N had already texted that they were waiting in class. “I can feel it this time.”

As they made their way into the convention center, flashing their badges, which served as their tickets, they scanned the masses of people to see if they spotted the soon-to-be lovebirds. “There’s the area for the cooking class,” Rossi said. “I can’t believe you managed to put this together.”

“I mean, I know we’ve all been hoping for them to get together,” Hotch laughed, “But this is dedication.”

“You know I am nothing if not dedicated, sir,” Garcia replied. “There they are!” She splayed her hands outward, keeping everyone from moving another step. “Let’s observe.”

                                                           —-

“They really have gone to amazing lengths to get us together over the past few months,” you said, turning your back to Spencer so he could tie your apron behind your back. “Maybe we should finally give them the satisfaction of knowing we’re together. I think they ship us.”

“Ship?” he asked bewildered. 

“To ship means to endorse a romantic relationship,” you replied.

Spencer raised on eyebrow. “I was just starting to pick up on slang from the 80s and 90s,” he said. “I’m so lost…but if that’s what it means then I definitely ship us.”

“I ship us too.” You could see the team out of the corner of your eye and told Spencer as much. “Gimme a little kiss.”

With a smile, he leaned up against the counter just as the teacher of the class said they’d start in ten minutes, and planted a chaste kiss on your lips, before jutting the tip of of tongue out ever so slightly. When you opened your eyes again, you smirked, silently telling Spencer to look back and give the team a wave.

                                                          —-

“Operation OTP is a success!” Garcia cried, clapping wildly as the rest of the team said it was about damn time. 

“Wait?” Morgan said. “Those sneaky…”

“What is it?” she asked. Morgan took her head in both hands and turned it back toward Spencer and Y/N. They were waving back at them. Everyone’s mouths had dropped open in disbelief. How had they not picked up on that?

“They’re already dating?!” Garcia screamed.

[Femslash February]: Frenemies

*plays Annie soundtrack* you’re only a day behiiiiiind~!

last chlonette prompt for the week! 

(pst. you should read @sadrien‘s nail polish headcanons bc they’re a+)


Day 7: Frenemies (Chlonette)

Words:

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

[Previous: New Haircut] [Next: On Wheels]


“Round 20, Bourgeois!”

Marinette slammed open the classroom door and dramatically pointed at Chloe who was sitting quietly in her seat for once, answering her text messages and catching up on the homework she didn’t do last night. Chloe looked up in disinterest until she realized that it was Marinette issuing her a challenge. Chloe immediatley brushed her books onto Sabrina’s desk and slammed her hand down on the table. “You’re getting your ass kicked today, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Judges!” Marinette called as she dropped her bag off at her desk and went to stand in front of Chloe’s. “Front and center.”

Nino groaned and slumped in his chair. “Uggghhh, I don’t wanna do this. This has been going on for over a month.”

“Say what you want, this is hilarious,” Alya snickered. “Let’s hope it ends today.”

“Keep saying that, and you’ll jinx it,” Adrien warned. 

Sabrina laughed when the three of them came over. “Alright, everyone. Rules have not changed. In the event of a tie, we’ll get a neutral party to split the vote. Agreed?”

Nino, Alya, and Adrien each held up a hand and swore. “Agreed.”

“Alright, Marinette,” Sabrina smiled. “You go first.”

Marinette slammed her hand on the table right next to Chloe’s. “Matte red polish. Ladybugs and roses for the nail art. Rhinestones on the accent nail.”

Chloe smirked. “Tri-color glitter-infused gradient with bumblee nail art on the accent nail.” 

Keep reading

All that I want to do is to spend the rest of my life with you.
—  I want to wake up in the morning right next to you. Eat breakfast with you, drink a cup of coffee with you. I want to hold your hands and watch movies with you. I want to send you cute and sweet long messages. Take a nap with you. I want to look into your eyes. Be with you at sunrise and sunset. Stay up all night staring at the night sky with you. Share our deepest thoughts under the moon. Walk in the rain with you. Be with you all summer, keep you warm through the winter. I can’t think of a more perfect life, I need you.
Never Felt So Much

Anthony Ramos x Reader, ft. Hamilcast, Lin, Leslie, & Oak

Fake Dating AU

Author: Lil Lambie

Words: 2209

Warnings: Fighting, kissing, mild language

Request: Hi!! Can you please do Anthony and fake dating au??? I’ll love you forever and ever @linmanuclmiranda (I already love you forever and ever oops)

A/N: I did it guys! I kept my promise! I really am sorry about yesterday. Thank you the anons and asks today, you were all so sweet and made me feel so loved. It really made my day. Thank you all so much, without further ado…Fake Dating AU, with Anthony. Enjoy, lovelies!


“Hey! (Y/N), wait up!”

You stopped in front of the taxi cab and turned back in the rain.

Anthony was holding his jacket over his head, splashing in puddles as he ran.

“What is it, Anthony?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest, shivering in the rain.

He shook out his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Can we talk sometime? Like outside of work? Or now?”

You rolled your eyes and looked back at the taxi. “Cup of coffee?”

“Yeah.” he smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

He jumped in front of you and opened the door. You blushed and smiled at him, and slid in the back. He slid in next to you. You were both drenched.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

You told the driver the address of the coffee shop. He started driving. You pulled Anthony’s jacket off and rubbed your hands together, blowing warm air into them.

“Sorry,” Anthony said, “I just really wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, you sure don’t talk to me at work. Plenty of time there.” you said bitterly.

Anthony frowned. “Yeah.” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the drive was silent, aside from the hum of the taxi, filling the empty space.

“This is it!” the driver shouted.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, reaching for your wallet. Anthony threw his hand in front of yours and smiled at you.

“I got it.”

He handed the driver a wad of cash, then put his wallet back in his pocket. He opened his door and helped you out, reaching for your hand. You reluctantly accepted it.

Anthony waved off the taxi driver as he drove away, then turned back to the coffee shop. “Let’s go in!” he shouted. He put an arm around your back and hurried you into the shop. He let go when you walked inside.

“Thanks.” you smiled awkwardly as he opened the door for you.

You ordered two hot chocolates and sat down in a booth. You sipped yours slowly, savoring the flavor and warmth. The feeling returning to your fingertips.

“So, Anthony…what did you want to talk to me about, so badly?” you teased.

Anthony smiled and rubbed his hands together, taking a quick sip from his cup. “I need you to pretend to be my date.”

“What?!” you shouted. A few heads turned, but the shop returned to normal after that.

Anthony spoke cautiously. “Please, just listen. A bunch of the guys like Chris, Lin, Leslie, Daveed, Oak, and I are all having a party get together sort of thing. They are all bringing their wives and girlfriends. I need a date. I-I…forgive me for the lack of a better word, I don’t want to show up empty handed.”

“You mean, single?” you spat.

“No! Please, (Y/N), it’s not like that!”

“Oh, but I think it is!” you shouted. You slid out of the booth, grabbed your jacket, and put a five on the table. “Thanks for the drink, Anthony.”

“Wait! Please!” Anthony ran from his chair to catch you.

He caught you at the door.

His hand was around your arm. You wouldn’t look at him, otherwise he would see you were crying. You felt so stupid and betrayed. You had thought Anthony just wanted to hang out and talk. Something you had always hoped to do. You weren’t close to anyone on the cast or crew, you were just there. Trying to fit in. Now you felt like Anthony was treating you like an object. He didn’t want to show up empty handed.

You bit your lip to calm the quiver in your chin.

“Please, (Y/N),” he said softly, “just let me talk.” You stayed silent, so Anthony took it as his cue. His hand dropped from your arm. “I didn’t want to ask anyone but you. I genuinely like you and think we should hang out. Look, I’m just trying to fit in too believe it or not. I may smile and look like I’ve got everything together. But some days I don’t. It’s the simple things that drive me crazy. Please, (Y/N), I need you. It’s just a favor. Nothing needs to come of it. Just one night. Please. You don’t have to do to it if you don’t want to.” He took a step back. “I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

You stood there for a moment, staring at your feet, watching the tears drip down the bridge of your nose. You tighten your arms around yourself.

“Fine.” you mumbled.

“What?” Anthony asked softly.

“I said, fine. Just text me the address and I’ll meet you there after the last show.” you glanced up at him before you walked out the door. He wore a face of bewilderment and guilt. His eyes were full of hope and were beaming at you. A single tear rested on his face. His lips in a small smile. His hair was obviously messed with, as it hung in his face.

You ran down the street without even thinking. Running away from the coffee shop, crying. You called a cab and rode it home.

++++++

You fixed your hair, humming a showtune. You had put on the best clothes you had. A red elegant dress. You dropped the iron from your hair and let the curl fall against your face. Checking the time, you finished getting ready.

You looked in the mirror and took a deep breathe. “Okay. You can do this.” you said to yourself. “Just one night. One damn night, and you are damn gorgeous. Let’s do this.”

You checked your phone for the address and went downstairs to the lobby,  and called a cab.

You arrived a few blocks away, at a large fancy apartment building. You took the elevator up to the top floor, and knocked on the last door.

“(Y/N)…”

He stared at you in awe.

You stared at him with disappointment and embarrassment. He was wearing a simple dress shirt and blue jeans. You saw past him and everyone was dressed in nice casual. Lin’s wife in a soft blue blouse and a skirt. Aside from her, no one wore formal  attire.

“You look…beautiful.” Anthony said.

“Thanks.” you pushed past him and walked in, taking off your high heels.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Lin call from the kitchen, “(Y/N)!” he ran to greet you and wrapped you in a hug. “It’s great to see you!” he said, when he pulled away. “You look marvelous tonight! So, you are here with Anthony then?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, Anthony and I.”

Lin smiled at you. “Well, go get him!”

“Oh, yeah.” you said softly. Lin walked back to his wife.

You walked over to Anthony, who was mid conversation with Oak.

“Hey, talk to you later, Oak!” Anthony waved as Oak went to join his date. “Hi,” he said softly when you walked up to him.

“Hi.” you replied.

“It’s good to see you. I’m glad that you made it.”

“Anthony,” you said sharply, through gritted teeth, “you didn’t tell me no one was dressing up for this. I thought it was a party at Lin’s. Not a beer and booze and blue jeans sort of party.”

Anthony frowned. “Sorry, I should’ve told you. But, don’t worry you look gorgeous tonight, no one is going to care.”

You sighed. “Well, if I’m your date and we are dating, what is our PDA?”

“Um, depends,” he said softly. “What are the boundaries?”

You eyed the bedroom. Anthony chuckled. “Hand holding, minimal kissing preferably on the cheek, and you have a limit of saying cute.”

“What’s the limit?”

“Zero.”

Anthony laughed. “You’re cute, (Y/N).” he smiled.

You smiled and bumped your hand with his. He laced his fingers through yours and you didn’t protest. The two of you sat down on the sofa. There were beer bottles and Lin brought over a bottle of wine. Anthony poured you some.

“So, how long have you guys been going out?” Leslie asked, his arm around his wife. He was beaming.

“Oh, um,” you and Anthony looked at each other for a moment.

“A week-” you said “Two months-” Anthony blurted out.

Leslie raised his eyebrows at you and grinned.

“Two months and a week,” you smiled, squeezing Anthony’s hand.

“You are a finish each other’s sentence kind of couple?” he laughed.

“Yup!-” you said

“-that’s us!” Anthony finished.

Everyone laughed.

“Okay, here is a juicy question.” Oak said. “Why? You work together everyday and have been for almost six months now, why the sudden interest?”

You looked to Anthony. “You wanna tell them, sweetie.”

“Sure.” he smiled. He turned to Oak and the rest of the group. “We’ve been on stage together for a long time now. Backstage, we would just chat here and there and (Y/N) really made me laugh. If I was tired, she really brightened my day and I was able to get back out there. I guess it’s just because she makes me smile and laugh, and I wanted to get to know her better.” Anthony smiled at you. You watched him, marveling at his words. “Because, I always had a crush on her since day one. She was and still is, the best dancer I’ve ever seen. She is my everything. Her smile. Her laugh. Her face,” he chuckled, “everything about her makes me happy.”

“Woohoo!” Everyone cheered. “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”

You and Anthony blushed. You went in and he kissed you on the cheek.

“Boooooooo!” they yelled. “Come on!”

Anthony smiled and kissed you. Quick and subtle. Just enough for a spark. He pulled away.

“Yeaaaaah!” they cheered.

Anthony pretended to bow, “Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week!”

Everyone laughed.

As everyone resumed their normal conversations, you turned to Anthony. “Hey, can we go outside? It’s a little stuffy in here.”

“Yeah, of course.” he smiled.

You walked to the balcony, with his hand in yours. He closed the sliding glass door behind you. “Wow.” you said.

“Wow, indeed.” Anthony laughed.

The two of you were marveling at the distant city below.

“The city is so amazing, like mountains. They are so large not in their size but their heart and soul, the lights and windows are like a million stars all in one small. It’s all so beautiful, unique, and amazing.” Anthony turned, his voice softening. “Just like you.”

“Wow.” you laughed. “That was cheesy.”

“Yeah.” he laughed, letting go of your hand. “It was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Anthony, I didn’t mean it like that.” you sighed

“No, it’s fine. It’s just a fake date,” he shrugged, “watcha gonna do trying to make it not so awkward.”

“Anthony?” you asked softly.

“Yeah?” he hummed.

“Did you really mean all of that?”

“Mean all of what?”

“You know,” you laughed, gesturing back to the party. “Everything you said in there. How I was beautiful, funny. How I made you smile and made you so happy. The things you said out here too. Or was that all just for show. You know, for the fake date.”

“No.” he said after awhile.

“Oh.” you looked down at the street. “Okay.”

Anthony turned to you and reached for your hands. “No, it was not all for show. None of it was. I was being cheesy comparing you to stars, because it’s unreasonable. You are more beautiful than the stars. They can’t make me laugh, smile. Not like you. They can’t dance. They can’t light up a room-” he stopped, laughing, and held your hands “okay maybe they can. But a million stars does not even compare to your smile, both on your lips and in your eyes. I am cheesy, because I am being genuine. I genuinely like you, (Y/N). I’m interested in you. I really have had a crush on you since day one. But, I didn’t think you liked me. So, I just took a chance and asked you to be my fake date, at this fake party, hoping you would fall in love with me.”

“What?” you said, “Fake party?”

“This party,” he said, “it didn’t exist when I asked you yesterday. It didn’t even exist an hour ago. I had Lin put all this together. Everyone basically knows, (Y/N), but I don’t care. Because, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“Anthony…”

“I love you, (Y/N),” he smiled, tears in his eyes, “and I’m not afraid to admit it.”

You let go of Anthony’s hand and put your arms around his back. You kissed him. For real. It wasn’t quick and subtle. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t something out of a fairytale. It wasn’t magical. But there was a spark. A spark that stayed and kindled like a flame. He was warm and soft. His hair softer than you ever imagined it would be.

His hand moved to just above your shoulder and one to your hair. It curled it back behind your ears and kissed you gently.

You were on a balcony, looking over the city, kissing Anthony Ramos.

He felt like home. He made you feel protected, safe, warm, and loved.

Love never made you feel so much.

Low Battery. \\ c.t.h.

Word Count: 1,556 words

Frustrated? Yes. You were on the brink of a panic attack just watching your laptop’s battery dwindle down, the almost-completed essay due in exactly eleven minutes doing nothing to aid in your stress level. It wasn’t enough that any words that would normally flow right out of you, admittedly a bunch of bullshit but words to get those three pages completed nonetheless, but the world just had to bless you with a laptop that absolutely, positively hated you.

Sadly, you were yet another broke college kid who could already feel their bank account hating them just at the thought of buying another, newer laptop.

Lucky for you, you had come to the coffee shop well prepared with your laptop bag that just so happened to hold your charger in it. However, on the other hand, there was something a little more unlucky about the charger — it had to be plugged into an outlet. And, from what you could tell just by a quick glance around the place, the only one in sight was currently being used.

Your eyes nervously stared at the guy occupying the seat right beside it, slouched down in a chair and using his thumb to lazily slide it up the screen, scrolling through tons of things that you were absolutely, positively sure were far less important than the essay that might just make or break your grade.

To make matters worse, he was fucking hot.

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Asking For It [10/10]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Swearing, arguing, sister trouble, and basically shit gets ugly.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get the last part out, I some how miss labeled it in my files… Haha. Took me a while to find it. Haha. Hope you all have enjoyed the story!!

From the beginning

Your life couldn’t get more perfect, an Avenger, engaged to Steve Rogers, your life was better than you planned. That is till your twin sister shows up, shady as they come you knew better than to trust her. Mirrored features, but two completely different people. She’s stirring up trouble in your perfect life, but what happens when Buck falls hard for her and you know she’s up to no good?Can you convince him she’s bad news before he’s too far into her web?


“Stark!” You yell as you and Nat step off the elevator.

“They cleared out.” Steve jogs into the kitchen looking at you.

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell has happened here?” Clint looks from you and Nat to Steve, Sam agrees quietly next to Steve, Tony sips from his coffee cup.

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Sticky Notes

Note: This is my first Jordan Fisher imagine! Hope y’all enjoy. I’m hoping to write many more of these.

Word Count: 1483

Pairing: Jordan Fisher x Reader

Warnings: none. just fluff. 

“Jordan, this is your chance, man. This is an opportunity that you have to take up. I mean, this is Y/N we’re talking about. The girl you-”

“I know, I know.” Jordan replied, cutting off Oak before slipping on his white coat for the first song. They were getting ready for the matinee show. “It needs to be special.”

The cast and crew of Hamilton decided to do a secret santa thing for Christmas 2K16, so when Jordan found out that he was going to be your secret santa, he needed help on deciding what to get you.

He’d had a crush on you since the first time he talked to you, but did a good job of hiding it. Jordan didn’t want to mess up on his gift to you.

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Beauty Retires

Braun Strowman/OC: There’s a huge change to come in your lives. How you deal with it means a lot. Smut. Fluff.

You can find the rest of the Beauty and the Beast series on my Masterlist!

Tagging my bbies: @lavitabella87 @omgmissmillie @screamersdontdance @everybodyfinnfreeze @shadow-of-wonder @laochbaineann @she-reigns-in-this-yard @sarrahcha @twiistedbliiss @hotspurmadridista @niazha16 @happelu970 @officialbroski10-blog @crowleysqueenofhell @lilmisscrisis @antigonemaia @imnoaingeal @littledeadrottinghood @imagineall-the-fandoms @macfizzle @oraclegazes @welshwitch5 @wrasslesmut @actualamyautopsy @blondekel77 @valeonmars @squirrel666 @livingthestrongstyle @damnbuvky @dmm-wts @caramara3 @abbie03d @roserae527 @superrezzy00 @the-geekgoddes @phenominalstyles @panic-angel3314 @that-lolachick @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues @heelturn-timesten @wrestlingnoob @georgiadean37 @taryndibiase @heelcharlie @kanupps06 @ringsidexdreaming @rolivia-fin @ambrosegirlforever @bodhi-black @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

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