that next perfect cup of coffee

anonymous asked:

Here, dear, have some pie! *hands over a maple pecan pie* Heard ya love maple and this came to mind, so I made it for you. Have a fantastic week, Grim!

( … Grim is staring at the pie, though his eyelights are gone in surprise. )

( ……… he really likes pie. Maple pies especially. And homemade pecan maple pie…??)

( … )

( … he’s gonna be a few minutes. )


( When you next go to make a cup of your favorite coffee/tea, that kind that you’re so nearly out of, you find the shelf nearly overflowing with more of it. When the hell did you buy all this…? And is that the special version of it that you usually only see once a year…..?? You end up shrugging, the questions slipping away as easily as they came, but you’re delighted nevertheless - this is clearly going to last you a long time. )

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,

Full on Love pt.1

Thor x plus size/chubby fem. reader 

a/n: super fluffy. mentions of alcohol and getting drunk. Part 2 I’m hoping to add some smut, we’ll see. My first chubby/curvy/plus size reader fic! Also I prefer long hair Thor (I’m still sad over his new haircut)

Summary: The reader is new to the team. Thor can’t keep his eyes off of her.  

Originally posted by unchartedghoul

“Good morning Thor!”

“Good morning Lady y/n, you are looking lovely as always.”

“Thank you.” you said, while continuing to mix the batter you were preparing.

You shook your head, smiling. He was always such a sweetheart. You had just got out of bed, wearing only a tank top and cute sleeping shorts. You weren’t sure what Thor’s idea of lovely is, but you thanked him anyway.

“I was about to make french toast, would you like some?” you asked, as he rummaged through the fridge.  


Thor peeked his head over the refrigerator door, “I would!“ 

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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!

Werewolf Boyfriend (Jack)

Part One of @ladyccr‘s commission for a jealous werewolf. Set in my Prince Adam Universe along with Harun. Part two coming soon!

 To be quite honest I had never considered myself the mating type. I had seen many a courtship ritual and it always struck me as somewhat useless. It always rubbed me wrong watching my friends go out normal and then come back with their head full of clouds. I never understood. And in fact, I sort of hated them for it. Even when our leader, Adam, started his courtship I felt myself lose a little respect for him. I hated it. I couldn’t understand what all these morons were doing. I didn’t understand at all.

   Then there was you.

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lovesick-goddess  asked:

hey do you guys have any more pining lance that isn't angsty?( I've read the whole tag I'm trash) and I'm really not a fan of angst. totally understand if you're too busy i know y'all have a lot of asks right now!!

yess love i totally understand!! - Karri

pining lance tag

just my cup of tea by skyestiel (1/1 | 3,645 | Teen And Up)

“Wha— you’re the crazy one! Tea is the sweet nectar of humanity. A gift from the universe!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Keith mutters as he fills his cherry red mug with water. After dumping the powder into his cup, he snags a silvery spoon-like utensil from the nearest drawer and stalks over to the seat next to Lance. “Besides, your ‘gift from the universe’ smells awful.”

or: Keith and Lance settle the great “Tea vs. Coffee Debate” the only way they know how.

Under Arrest by VulpesVulpes713 (1/1 | 7,255 | Mature)

Lance has a weakness when it comes to dares, and let’s just say that this Halloween party, where his costume has all the bells and whistles of a legitimate police officer, is the perfect place to exploit that weakness.

Thankfully Hunk picked the perfect guy for Lance to handcuff himself to.

Up in the Clouds by VulpesVulpes713 (1/1 | 13,779 | Teen And Up)

Where usually Lance found a thrill in the sudden speed of the aircraft as it raced down the runway, he was too preoccupied to really notice them lift off. Too distracted to even glance out the window and watch the scenery turn to specs of colour before being shrouded by clouds.

All he wanted was for the seatbelt sign to turn off, so he could plug in his headphones and sleep the rest of the flight away.

Just make it through without any further embarrassments and everything will be great.
A.K.A

Lance is an awkard bean around Keith, who just so happens to be the flight attendant on his plane. Someone help this poor boy.

The Surprise Visit

Originally posted by seabasschino

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Hellloooo :) Would you like to do a Bucky Barnes imagine where you’re engaged with him and one time he surprise visits you in the Office at your work but you notice all the other woman stare at him weird. You then spend your lunch break together and as he’s about to leave the others still check him out and whisper how hot he is and stuff. Then you grab him and pull him in for another kiss that Shows the others he is yours ? Hihi I hope that’s fine with you :) Thanks dear <3 -anon

Warnings: a few sexual references - some language ? - it’s pretty innocent

Word Count: 932

A/N: I basically wrote this whole thing in my philosophy class, oops. Anyways, this is probably really short compared to my other stuff, but I hope it’s still what you were lookin’ for, anon! 💖 Requests are still open, and I have a lot of smut requests comin’ up soon, so get ready, y’all.


“Hey, Y/N, do you want anything from the coffee shop? The intern is making a coffee run,” Rosanna, one of your co-workers at the desk next to yours, pops her head over your cubicle wall, a light smile playing at her lips.

“No, but thanks, Roe. I’m fine,” you reply with a smile while you reshuffle a stack of papers on your desk.

“Yanno, I’ve never even seen or let alone heard you talk about your fiancé,” she crosses her arms, resting her head on top of them as they rest on the edge of the wall.

“Don’t you have paperwork to do?” You counter, laughing at her.

“Woah,” Rosanna breathes, her eyes slightly widening as she peers over your head towards the elevator. “Hottie on your six.” She nods towards the space behind you. Light, quiet whispers and giggles float through the air as more people - women and men equally - notice the presence of a new person in the room.

“I’d let him take me any way he wants,” Rosanna hushly chuckles.

“Why don’t you go talk to him, then?” You busy yourself with searching for another file in the drawer next to you.

“Me? No way,” Rosanna snorts. “I wouldn’t have a chance. I don’t even think you’d have a chance.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” you dramatically grumble up at her.

“Hey, Roe, check him out,” another co-worker, David, comes up to Roe, gently swatting her shoulder with a file in his hand. “I could think of a few things I’d like to do with him.”

“Who are you two ogling over?” You swivel in your chair, spinning around to look at who she - and the rest of the office - was drooling about.

You watch as Bucky hesitantly strides down the hallway carrying two to-go cups and a paper-bag in his hands. His eyes scan the room as he enters, and when his gaze lands on you, a bright, goofy smile blossoms across his face. The eyes of the office were glued to him, which is understandable - his shirt almost looked like two sizes too small as it strains over his muscles, a dark, gorgeous beard lined his jaw and emphasized his already-drop-dead-gorgeous features, and his large build naturally makes it impossible to not notice him. You’ve never really felt a jealousy like this before - it’s almost like a newfound sense of territoriality was beginning to control your emotions.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” You smile, walking up to him and placing a hand on his arm.

“I went out to get some coffee and thought that you might want some,” he extends one of the cups to you. “Aaaand, I also brought you a sandwich from Phil’s down the block. I know they’re your favorite.” He hands over the bag next.  

“Thanks, Buck,” you beam at him, taking the cup and bag with one hand. “This is perfect.”

His smile softens as his eyes flick back to the rest of the room.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” His voice drops to an intimate whisper.

You look over your shoulder and realize that he was right. Everyone was either staring or attempting to sneak-in sly glances over their cubicle walls or over files they were “looking” at. David was fanning himself with his file and Roe is staring at you, her mouth slightly hanging open as a look of near-disbelief crosses her face.

“I’m off at five,” you mutter, still looking over your shoulder. Turning your attention back to him, you run your free hand up the side of his arm. “Maybe we could meet for some dinner? Or, we could stay in…spend some time together,” your voice drops to a low, sultry level.

“Did you have somethin’ you wanted to do in mind, doll?” A playful smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips, his free hand gently landing low on your hip.

Your move to caress the side of his face, your fingers gently gliding through his soft, thick locks of hair. You quickly push-up from the ground, encapturing his lips in a searing, deep kiss. His lips slowly molded to yours, his tongue quickly swiping across your lower lip before you pull away. Wiping at your mouth, you clear your throat and steal a fast glance behind you again. Nearly everyone was honed-in on you, and a delicate heat began to burn beneath your cheeks.

“So, I’ll, uh…see you at home,” you mutter to Bucky.

“Sounds like a date, darlin’.” Bucky chuckles, planting a soft kiss to your temple before turning to leave. “I’ll call you later,” he calls out over his shoulder as he disappears down the hallway. You smile to yourself and saunter back over to your desk, gracefully plopping back down into your chair and turning back to your desk to work on more documents. Without pausing what you were typing, you look up at Rosanna and David, who were both now staring at you.

“Can I help you two?” You arch an eyebrow in their direction.

“I can’t believe this,” Rosanna breathes, a redness creeping up her face as she sinks behind the wall.

“It’s just unfair,” David dramatically sighs, resuming his fanning as he turns on his heels and walks away.  

You smirk as you look back to your computer screen, typing away at the keyboard. The screen of your phone next to you lit up, catching your attention. A message from Bucky pops-up.

You’re gonna get it so good tonight.

You bite your lip and chuckle quietly as you reply: Show me what you got, Sarge.

The One With All the Kissing

Inspired by that one Friends scene with Chandler panicking and kissing everyone, aka one of my favorite things from that show. 

I was super nervous about sharing this, it’s my first fic for this fandom and second in total so I had no idea what I was doing. But here it is, thanks for 200+ followers I cannot believe I even have that many and I love you all, the things I do for you all. 

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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.

Loverboy | Richie Tozier Imagine

Author’s Note: While me and many others are still buzzed from the release of stranger things season two and flooded my feed with Mike Wheeler, I didn’t want my other favourite 80′s brunette to be forgotten. Many thanks for the feedback and support I got after my first writing (which you can read here), without it I doubt I would have any motivation to continue writing. xx

Summary: Richie offers to model for an peers’ photography project for the payment, but looses focus on his original goal once he meets the girl behind the camera | Self Insert, Female Reader, Richie Character Focused, Fluff

Word Count: 1933

-

Richie didn’t pay attention to the never-ending collection of posters and printouts decorating the corkboards throughout his school. Not only were most outdated and irrelevant, many of the events they advertised made him feel like more of an outcast then he already did.

The worst to him were the attempted hype for the school dances. While he would much rather spend his Friday night with his friends or at the arcade, he didn’t feel like the other kids who wanted to spend a few nights a year with their hands awkwardly on the waist of their crush with currently popular songs playing too loudly.

But a small part of him wanted to go to the badly named Derry Disco because it was what everyone did; and he hated the idea of being left out. But regardless of his distaste for the waste of paper, his attention was draw to a notice within the disorganized mess.

MALE MODEL NEEDED

Any boys interested and willing to have me take photos of them to use in my photography assignment, call the number below. Will be paid. Only contact if you’re cute x

906-2721

Richie didn’t have much if any of an interest in modelling, excluding the ladies within the Playboy magazine he’d taken from his father and kept hidden between his bed and mattress. What did interest him was the mention of money he would receive just by having his photo taken.

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Can we just take a second and discuss Steve Rogers + making Sam, Bucky and Natasha this cup??

Steve/Sam:
- Steve brings Sam coffee in this cup. Sam reads it and looks bashfully into the coffee for a minute before he tells Steve, “I think the coffee needs a helping hand today,” and then leans up for Steve to kiss him. They smile into each other’s mouths. The coffee gets cold.

Steve/Bucky:
-Steve sets coffee in this mug down in front of a grumpy Bucky. Bucky drinks almost the entire cup before he reads it. It gives him A Feeling so he sits down next to Steve on the couch and punches him really hard in the shoulder before giving him a noogie.

Steve/Natasha:
-Steve makes Natasha’s coffee to perfection and leaves it in this cup on the counter. After he goes to shower he finds that both the cup and Natasha are gone. Four days later he wakes up to Natasha leaning over him giving him the most passionate kiss of his life, morning breath be dammed.

How Many Freckles Do You Have? (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by allfantasticbeasts

I know there have been things like this before, but it’s something short and sweet!

Y/N/N: Your nickname


If one thing was for sure about the daily appearance of Newt Scamander, it was the dozens upon dozens of beautiful freckles that littered his skin–and you loved them.  They were just one more thing that added to the uniqueness of him.

However, Newt didn’t love his freckles half as much as you did.  In fact, he didn’t like the at all.

Newt saw them as ugly and distracting, wishing they could just get up and leave.  He figured there was some sort of spell for that, but didn’t want to risk it.  Newt wasn’t the type of person to constantly degrade his appearance in a mirror, but he knew the freckles were always there.

Both you and your fiancee Newt were sitting on the sofa, your legs swung over Newt’s, going over the newest and most recent chapter of his book on the Mooncalves.

“Did you know that during a Mooncalf mating ritual, it leaves odd geometric patterns in wheat fields that confused muggles?”  Newt said enthusiastically.

“You’ve only told me about seven times,” you laughed.  Newt blushed.  “But I admire how passionate you are about your work, you know that.”  You were starting to get tired.  “Love, can we stop here for tonight?”

Newt nodded and closed his journal.  “Of course.  Are you getting tired?”

You shook your head.  “I still have a few more minutes.  I just wanted some nice quiet time with you.”

You got up from your comfy seat and went to the kitchen to make two cups of tea.  When you came back, Newt hadn’t budged.  All he had done was set his book on the coffee table in front of him.  You handed him one of the cups.

“Thank you, Y/N/N.”

“Anytime,” you replied as you sat back down next to him.

You each sat there in silent for a few moments, simply enjoying the feeling of the other one and a nice cup of tea.  You turned your head to observe Newt’s face.  His beautiful whatever-freaking-color-they-are eyes, perfect soft hair, pink lips, and your absolute favorite: his freckles that adorned his features in the most perfect way.

“Love?  What exactly are you staring at?” Newt asked, noticing that you were staring at him.

“How many freckles do you have?” you said nonchalantly.

Newt furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled.  That was one of the most unexpected responses.  “I’m not sure… too many, that’s all I know.”

“What do you mean ‘too many’?” you frowned as you took a sip of your tea.

He shrugged.  “I don’t like them.  They’re ugly.”

You nearly choked on your tea.  “That’s one of the most absurd things I’ve ever heard you say.  Your freckles are adorable!  They complement you perfectly.”  You kissed his cheek.  “Adorable freckles on an adorable man.  What’s a better combination?”

Newt shyly smiled at your compliment.  “Thank you, dear.  I guess they do kind of fit me.”  Newt kissed your cheek.

You stroked his cheek, admiring his cute lil freckles.  “Can I count them?”

Newt tilted his head and chuckled.  “You can sure try.”

“Can I connect them with ink and see if it makes a shape?”

“Now you’re stretching it.”


Please let me know what you thought about it!

Grad school is walking across campus in the rain with a stack of exam scantrons shoved under your jacket, trying to calculate if you’ll be able to drop them off and get to your next class on time. A class where you happen to be the instructor and not the student (and you’ve already spilled coffee on their papers once this semester). 

Grad school is dodging puddles while despairingly thinking that today would be a perfect day to curl up with a cup of tea and write if everyone would just leave you to work in peace…and then realizing with horrible amusement that you’re not even hoping for time off anymore just opportunities to work in peace and quiet. 

Grad school, you think while blocking out mental images of the dishes piled up in your sink at home, is both a soaring delight and unending torture. 

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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Bruce Wayne’s Secretary

requested by @xakilicious

Request: Hey love! Headcannons for being Bruce’s secretary and him admiring you from a distance, please? Thank you love xoxox


AN- I originally thought you meant the reader admiring Bruce from a distance and I was about halfway through until I realized it was the other way around. Hope you like it!

REMINDER: ALL REQUESTS ARE OPEN

- You don’t know how you managed to get this job
- Out of all the applicants, you were chosen to become Bruce Wayne’s secretary
- You had heard how tough this job was
- Hearing about how Bruce changed his mind every thirty seconds about what his latest project was
- No matter how ridiculous it became, you managed to do it
- In your third month there, you noticed a significant increase in your paycheck
- And how your rent had been waved off
- And how all your bills were always paid off before you could get them out of your mailbox
- When you asked your landlord about it, they shrugged it off saying you “pleased the right man”
- Whatever that meant
- It took you a while to realize that Bruce was repaying you for all work you do for him
- You brought it up with him once
- He pretended to have no clue what you were talking about
- So you walked off but before opening the door, you glanced back at Bruce
- Witnessing a smirk in his face and a blush on your face
- It continued like this for months
- One time, he actually bought YOU coffee
- Needless to say, you were shocked
- You talked to your friends about how nice to you he was
- They all said to “make him your sugar daddy”
- You respectfully declined
- But his actions became more intimate
- From a perfect cup of coffee to a $60,000 dress for the next Wayne gala
- You respectfully accepted
- You were at Wayne Manor working your magic with potential investors when you were offered a flute of champagne
- You looked at the worker then your eyes flickered to the side only to meet Bruce’s
- You saw how quickly his face became red and how the younger men around him began laughing and pointing at him
- You though nothing of it
- But then it became frequent at work too
- You handed a file to him while checking it off your to-do list on your tablet
- When he still hadn’t taken it from you, you looked over at him
- The man looked like he had seen God in person
- He was smiling at you and fiddling with his pen when you cleared your throat
- Bruce grabbed the file and went back to his business
- You walked back to your desk perplexed for the next week
- What was that about?

The Library - Minseok Smut

This is a revenge piece against @shesdreamingfics for murdering my feels with her “Come Back Home” series. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Originally posted by ivana2299

I fell back in my chair and let a breath of frustration escape my lips. I rubbed my eyes, thankful that I had avoided wearing eyeliner today.

I skimmed the library. Midterms had the place filled to the brink with students. My Literature test was raising a full panic in my chest, but nothing that I was reading seemed to be housing itself in my mind.

I let my head fall back and I closed my eyes. Maybe a brief moment of pulling them from my computer screen would help.

My brief moment was just that when a voice from in front of me shook me from my break.

“Excuse me? Other seats are taken, can I steal this one? It’s the only one next to an outlet.”

I jumped slightly and my eyes flew open, only to land on a man so unexpectedly handsome.

His curly black undercut fit his face perfectly. He had sharp eyes and a soft smile. My breath hitched in my throat as I drank him in before me.

I must have had a dumbfounded look on my face, because the handsome stranger waved his hand in front of my eyes.

“Um? Hello? Are you okay?”

I felt like an idiot. I nodded and managed to slap a smile on my face, “yeah! I’m great. Sorry. My brain my be a little bit fried from too much studying.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot, but he smiled at me, despite my awkward behavior. He threw his bag on the table and pulled the chair out, landing in it with a huff. He ran his fingers through his curly locks and nodded.

“I feel ya. It’s draining!” He began to unpack his bag. I tried to focus on my book, but I could not control my eyes from moving back to his face. He was entrancing.

I shook my head and stood up.

“Can I bribe you with coffee to watch my stuff and save my spot so that I’m able to go refuel with caffeine? I think that I need to step away to clear my head.” I was not sure why he had me so flustered, but he was a complete and total distraction. Exhaustion definitely did not help, so I figured a splash of energy might get my brain working again.

He smiled at me.

“Who am I to refuse coffee from a cute stranger? I would love an americano. My name is Minseok, by the way. For the drink order.”

My face burned red again and I thanked him. I grabbed my purse and made my way to the campus coffee shop.

As I waited for the drinks to be made, I tapped my fingers absentmindedly against the coffee bar. I was frustrated with myself for letting such an attractive face fluster me so easily. It was not as though it was the first time that I was seeing a handsome man. Why was this one a different case?

I returned back to the library and handed him his drink.

“Thanks for playing bodyguard to my stuff. Hope that it didn’t give you too much trouble,” I teased.

“I did have to fight off an evil villain who’s objective was to steal all of the pretty girls’ in the library’s stuff, but my superpowers helped me ward him off.”

“Well then I’m glad that it was you who sat here. And don’t worry, I’ll keep your superpowers a secret.” His light demeanor made me feel less intimidated by his striking looks.

I grabbed my book bag to switch text books. I pulled a couple of my personal readings out to locate the algebra book, and Minseok grabbed one.

“Are you reading ‘When Breath Becomes Air?!’ That is one of my favorites!” His eyes grew wide with excitement.

“I’ve read it before. I’m re-reading it because I like to cry, apparently. It’s so beautiful!”

We seemed to forget about studying and began exchanging our favorite parts of the memoir. We also exchanged titles of a few other books that the other hadn’t heard of. I got scolded by the librarian, and a few of the other more diligent students, when I loudly gasped when Minseok told me he hadn’t read “Gone Girl;” only seen the movie.

I demanded that he read it, and handed a few other of that author’s book names over to him.

He nibbled at his lip as his brow furrowed as he stared at the paper.

“Everything okay,” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking about how I’m going to get you the verdict of how I feel about all of these books without your phone number. You seem to have forgotten to write it down on here.”

He was becoming an expert at making me blush.

I wrote it down for him under the list of books with my name.

He thanked me as we were approached by the librarian. She let us know that the library was closing for the night and we needed to go ahead and pack up. We thanked her and made our way out of the building.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” Minseok nodded at me and headed off to the parking lot.

I practically danced my way back to my dorm room. I flopped on my bad and let a content sigh leave my lips.

The next few weeks of midterms and tests were a blur. Luckily, the stress was broken up by occasional texts and random run ins at the library from Minseok.

One night, when the library was open for 24 hours since finals were nearing, he happened to show up at our usual table. Two cups of coffee in hand, he smiled as he said, “I hoped that I would find you here.”

I graciously accepted the coffee. Taking a deep drink of it, I ignored the heat, letting it flow through me. I needed the energy. Finals were appearing to be worse than midterms.

“Perfect timing,” I said, “I was getting ready to give up. These algebraic equations are all starting to blur together and I can’t make sense of any of it anymore.”

“I took that class two semesters ago. Let me see if I can help.”

Minseok sat next to instead of across from me. I caught a whiff of his cologne, a smell that I definitely wanted to get used to.

I pointed out the first problem that I was having difficulty with. He started explaining it to me with patience and ease. He pointed at various numbers and letters, making sure to look at me occasionally to make sure I was grasping what he was saying.

When I successfully completed a problem similar to the one that he had shown me, he excitedly beamed at me. His hand flew to my leg as he gasped, “you did it! See! I knew you’d get it!”

I took notice of his hand on my thigh, and so did he.

Instead of him moving it, though, I felt his fingers tighten around my leg.

He licked his lips lightly and leaned over, whispering, “I know of a really good finals stress reliever. Follow me.”

He stood and made his way over to a row of books.

I, suspiciously, followed him. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. I glanced up at the row of books he was skimming through and asked, “reading Greek Philosophy is your idea of a stress relief?”

Suddenly, Minseok had an arm on either side of me, trapping me against the bookshelf. His face was a mere inches from mine. His lips hovered over my lips. My breath was caught in my throat. I anxiously waited to see what his next move was going to be.

“Don’t you want this,” he asked, pausing and staring me deep in the eyes, “haven’t you wanted me inside of you from the very first time that I sat next to you?”

He leaned forward and rested his lips on my ear, “I know that I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Minseok’s hand teased my skirt’s hemline. When it dipped underneath the fabric, and I did not stop him, he smirked.

“I knew you liked me.”

I finally found my breath to retort, “are you all talk, or are you gonna actually help me relieve some stress?”

I saw Minseok’s eyes immediately darken with lust. His smirk turned devilish, and I heard him practically growl with desire.

After skimming the room to make sure nobody was in sight, he slid his hand inside of my panties.

I let out a gasp, and his hand flew to my mouth. With two fingers teasing right at the entrance of my already wet core, he whispered, “not a sound. You can’t get us caught. Otherwise, I may never get to see how pretty you look when you orgasm. Okay?”

I nodded.

Minseok kept his hand over my mouth as he slid his two fingers inside of me. My head rested against the bookshelf as my eyes fluttered closed.

His hand did quick work. It was pumping his fingers in and out of me, hitting my g-spot repeatedly. My knees were buckling beneath me as he curled his digits just right. His thumb pressed into my clit, adding extra pleasure to my quickly rising orgasm.

My breath became staggered as Minseok continued to use his fingers to fuck me into bliss. He finally removed his hand from my mouth, and grabbed my chin. He crashed his lips to mine, kissing me hard as I tightened around his fingers, cumming hard around his hand.

He removed his fingers and kissed me gently one last time.

“So, what do you think? Stress relieved?”

I teasingly shoved him as my heart rate settled.

“I definitely feel better, but, I wouldn’t mind a bit more stress relief.”

He smiled as he said, “that’s what I was hoping you’d say. Grab your bags. I live close by.”

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.”

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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