that pitcher of milk

2

ethnobotany moment of the day: native peoples in Southeast Asia using wild carnivorous pitcher plant traps to cook rice in bc honestly why not??? apparently it’s a totally chill and normal food and it’s sold in farmers markets and stuff. heres the recipe thats most popular to use too (transcribed in the left photo) in case you can’t read it:

“1. Take 24 large pitchers. Wash carefully, then soak in several changes of water, preferably overnight. Soak 1kg of glutinous rice overnight.

2. Cut off pitcher trendils.

3. Boil the rice with coconut milk and salt.

4. Wash and cut up two cupfuls of fresh prawns. Finely slice half a cup of red onions. Pound a knob of shrimp paste, 4 or 5 chilled, a few spring onions and a few celery leaves. Combine the pounded ingredients with the prawns and fry in a small amount of oil until fragrant.

5. When the rice is half cooked, remove pan from fire. Cool water slightly. Half full the pitchers with rice, add one tablespoon of the fried mixture. Fill up the pitcher with rice.

6. Stand the pitchers in a steamer, cover, steam over boiling water for half an hour. Serve hot or cold.”

(from “Pitcher Plants of the Old World Volume 1 by Stewart McPherson, pages 204+205)

princess [draco malfoy]

request: nonexistent! this was directly out of my mind (’:

word count: ~3700

a/n: good jesus christ this one took far too long to write. this is my first post of the blog, though, so color me excited for what’s to come! also i’m so tired. this has drained my energy for some reason. ugh. please do request though i have nothing to write and my ideas sort of go everywhere when i don’t have a solid idea in mind! thanks for reading! <3

summary: in which a sarcastic comment has draco calling you “princess”. he’s also kind of an ass. a very attractive, rude ass. (contains swearing ofc)

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Coffeeshop Cutie [Zach Mitchell x Reader]

Author’s Note: Whoa, this is really dialogue-heavy, but I actually kind of like it. Dialogue is fun. I hope you enjoy this! I’ll admit it’s pretty rushed and I think  you can kind of tell, but it’s cute, so. Also I haven’t exactly proofread it yet, but I’ll slowly do that! I’m really tired right now.

Word Count: 2,060

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GIFT FOR SANDY

Okay, so Sherlock is a wizard and John is a muggle. Sherlock is a magical genius but sucks at apparation….

@yorkiepug hope you like it :) <3 <3


Sherlock had never been the best at apparition. He knew how to do it but he always seemed to just slightly miss his coordinates slightly. Mycroft made fun of him endlessly for it. Today though seemed to be worse than other times. Sherlock who was aiming for St. Barts had managed to apparate into some Muggles house quite unexpectedly.

He had appeared in the air, near the ceiling of the room and promptly fell the small distance down and onto the dining table. Plates of breakfast clattered, a pitcher of milk was upturned and Sherlock thinks he felt a forks tongs stab him in his right arse cheek.

“Bloody hell!” A voice yelled, “What the fuck?”

Sherlock sat up and looked over to the muggle man who had until his unwanted arrival been sitting down to a full English breakfast.

“Apologies.” Sherlock stated matter of factly. “It was not my attention to appear in your home.”

The blond man just continued to stare at him. Sherlock did a quick sweep of the man but before he could say anything else there was a gun pointed at his head.

“Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?” The muggle demanded.

Sherlock quirked a brow, this muggle was refreshingly not dull. Interesting.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock enquired, not answering the ex-soldiers question.

“Afghanistan…” The man answered automatically, then seemed to chastise himself for it “Answer my question or I’ll shoot you.”

Sherlock shrugged, “No.” he glanced down at the plate in front of the muggle picked up a slice of bacon and popped it into his mouth.

“Yes I will, I grant you it’s not every day someone magically falls through my ceiling onto my dining room table but that doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you.”

“Your left-hand says otherwise.” Sherlock snarked.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your left hand, it’s quite obvious the gun isn’t loaded. You see here,” Sherlock pointed to the man’s wrist. “If the gun was loaded your wrist would be under more strain with the additional weight of a full magazine. Here, the trigger is not engaged. So it’s not that you ‘won’t’ shoot me. It’s that you cannot. Be assured though that I am sure if the gun had been loaded I would be in fear of my life.” Sherlock paused and started at the muggle. “You’re an army doctor.”

The blond muggle lowered his gun and stared gobsmacked at the stranger sitting crossed legged in front of him on top of his breakfast. “That was amazing.”

“That’s not what people usually say.”

“What do people usually say?”

“Piss off.”

Originally posted by sherlockspoisonedcoffee

Other lovelies who I think will also like this:

@inevitably-johnlocked @lalnableleesh @consultingeastwind  @kimbiablue

anonymous asked:

Jamie and Claire cuddled up with a newborn Faith or Bree? I've had a rough few days and could use some fluff! Bairns for everyone :)








Claire sat happily tucked in bed nursing Bree. Beside her, Faith played with her ragdoll mimicking her mother. Howling winds outside prompted the mother to pull the blanket a bit more snugly around the newborn’s flailing arms.  The newest ginger Fraser snorted at the movement accidentally dislodging herself.  A gentle hand repositioned the smacking mouth to help her return to the task.

“There now, Brianna,” Claire soothed. “I do apologize for the disruption my littlest one.”

Faith waved at her mother to get her attention, “Mam? Da go?” she signed. She looked to her mother’s full hands for an answer.

“Tea and bannocks.”

Jamie crossed the threshold as his older daughter began to clap and wiggle to show her excitement. He carefully set the heavy tray on the bedside table to sit  beside his wife.

“Is she minding her Mam and finally eating?” he inquired.

Faith excitedly jumped at her father, kissing him as she squeezed him close.

“Are you ready for your tea?” he gestured. “A warm bannock?”

She nodded as she repeatedly signed the words for tea and food. “Milk, Da?”

He picked up the pitcher to show her. “For you!”

“It would seem everyone is excited about milk today!” Claire mumbled through a yawn. “Thank you for the nourishment, love.”

“Weel,” he laughed.” I figured it was only fair after you delivered our wee lass here.”

Jamie kissed all three of his loves then climbed under the covers with them.

“We are terribly fortunate, aren’t we?” she murmured sleepily.

“Indeed we are, my sassenach, the most.”

Coffee Shop Kisses - Wonwoo

First kiss during a coffee shop date drabble with Wonwoo as requested by @spicadeservesbetter ! Hope you enioy and this is what you wanted ♥ (I would alsonlike to dedicate this to my fave Wonwoo stan @lil-nochu ily XD)

“You’ve been so busy lately, I thought we wouldn’t have a second date,” you confessed to your boyfriend of a month Jeon Wonwoo, holding onto his arm and huddling closer to his body as a brisk chill ran through the air. You suddenly regretted not wearing a thicker coat; it was still winter after all. He smiled softly down at you and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he possibly could to his warm figure and sighing, watching his breath form white wisps in the winter wind.

“I know,” he murmured, regret tingeing his deep voice as he kept his gaze fixed ahead on the pavement you walked down together. “I’m sorry.”

“No don’t apologize!” you became somewhat frantic, feeling guilty for making him feel bad. “I understand. I’m just glad I can be with you now.” He smiled, eyes crinkling behind his wire glasses in the cutest way as he led you to a quaint little coffee shop situated in the corner of a pretty empty street. “Wow…” a gasp of mingled surprise and awe left your lips as you stepped into the building, the rich aroma of coffee immediately hitting your nostrils and warming all your senses. The interior was all chocolate and a creamy off white, with booths separated by glass dividers occupying most of the main area and smaller wooden tables for two people dotting around the edges by the large windows through which the morning sun shone. There weren’t many people inside and it felt warm and homely, and just being inside made you feel fuzzy and joyful. “It’s so pretty in here,” you hummed, choosing to sit opposite Wonwoo in one of the booths seeing as the sunlight was incredibly bright and would probably blind you. You already had Wonwoo for that. “I can’t believe I’ve never been before.” Wonwoo leant forward, propping his elbows on the varnished oak of the table and resting his chin on his hands, smiling gently at you as you continued to take in the aesthetic of the decor.

”I’m so glad you like it,” he replied in his husky voice, letting out a small huff of laughter as he looked around the establishment somewhat nostalgically. “I used to come here all the time in college. I remember I liked you a lot then too, I used to think to myself that if I ever worked up the courage to ask you on a date I’d bring you here.” His eyes gleamed with the reminiscence and your heart suddenly fluttered - the way he looked so adoringly at you made your cheeks flush hot. You didn’t know he liked you until he finally asked you out sometime last month, when his idol group were awarded a break after promotions. Your friends had called you oblivious, not even trying hiding their frustration but you could never understand why. Until now, as he gazed at you like you hung the stars, like you were all he ever wanted to look at; it seemed this was more than just a crush. A waitress sauntered over, lazy smile spreading over her plump lips as she saw you and Wonwoo exchanging fond looks and shy smiles.

“You guys are so cute!” she lilted, now beaming at you both as she took a small notepad and a pen from the small black apron encircling her thin waist. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?” You glanced at Wonwoo and he nodded, knowing you weren’t the best with other people, especially in situations like this.

“Just a regular coffee for me and…” he narrowed his eyes slightly at you; you’d frequented coffee shops together in the past as to study but it had been a while. “A caramel macchiato for the lady.” Attempting to hide the triumphant grin already tugging up the corners of your mouth turned out to be incredibly difficult - he remembered your favourite.

“Is that everything?” At Wonwoo’s nod she scurried back behind the polished bar and set about making your drinks.

“So how’s idol life treating you?” you questioned in a soft tone, playing with the tasselled ends of your thick scarf. He pouted slightly, trying not to blush too obviously as he cautiously moved one of the hands from his lap to lace his fingers with yours which sat atop the table.

“It’s nice, living out your dreams and all, but I barely get any time to see you which I hate.” he cocked his head to the side a little, eyes scanning every detail of your now rather pink face as if inspecting you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to take you out.”

“I had somewhat of a clue,” you smirked, looking down at the table awkwardly before forcing yourself to look him in the eye. The deep brown orbs then looked so enamored yet amused by your timid manner, causing you to scratch the back of your neck bashfully. Breaking the awkward silence the waitress then came back with two steaming drinks and you both thanked her before turning your attention to them, hot and incredibly well made to say yours had a large heart drawn into the foam on top. You took a glimpse of the waitress who smiled proudly at herself before going back to cleaning the already shiny espresso machine. Wonwoo looked up at you, one hand supporting his jaw and the other reaching for the steel pitcher of milk which he slowly poured into the bitter beverage sat before him.

“So,” he coughed lightly, finally breaking the tension between you both as he moved onto shaking the contents of the small sugar packets into his drink. Usually he’d have it black but today he felt like the added sweetness. “Did you end up pursuing writing?” You grimaced a little, watching the thin silvery wisps of steam evaporate from the macchiato.

“Not… quite,” you mumbled thoughtfully. “I’m still trying to make it but at the moment I’m still focusing on studies,”

“I see…” his tone was distracted but his gaze was attentive which was mildly confusing, but you shrugged it off and took a small sip of your coffee, laughing at the foam that decorated your upper lip afterwards. He chuckled before reaching for his own coffee, looping two of his long fingers through the small and delicate china handle of the cup and bringing it to his lips. He blew ever so lightly on the hazelnut coloured surface as to try and cool it before taking a tentative sip, still watching you and listening to you talk. He recoiled immediately after the beverage touched his mouth, setting the cup back down on its saucer with an abruptness that startled you into silence. You frowned at him, concern etched onto your features as you raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Are you okay?” you asked, voice mellifluous and calm as your head tilted to the right. He gasped whilst nodding, furrowing his brows at you with a hopeless smile.

“Yeah sorry I just… wasn’t paying enough attention and burnt my tongue.” he exhaled slowly as you reached over the table and placed a finger on his chin, raising his eyes to yours. Suddenly bold you tried to fend off your smirk, him blinking with wide eyes as he waited for you to speak.

”Do you want me to kiss it better?” you whispered, watching him turn beet red with a somewhat gleeful smile despite still being shy yourself. Nevertheless he took the incentive and leaned in, careful not to upset either of the drinks as he placed one palm flat on the table and the other on your cheek and pulled you closer as to press your lips to his in a sweet and sincere first kiss. It was short yet the butterflies in your stomach lasted even when he pulled away, lips tingling and tasting slightly of coffee still as his lip curled into a bewildered grin.

”You know what? It still hurts.” he grinned with an overexaggerated shrug and laughed lightly, grazing your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb as he leaned in to kiss you again.


Hope you like! ♥

-Admin Belle

BEYOND THE PALE | Prof!Seb x Reader

Originally posted by sebastiansource

Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist

A/N: Thought everyone could use some Professor Seb in their lives 😍 This is me mentally preparing to go back to university in two weeks. Let me know what you think! I have at least a couple more parts planned and if you’ve been following me for a while, you know I love to build a backstory.


First day of classes. Ah, you could almost smell the hope and determination in the air. Soon enough though, everyone’s dreams would be crushed. The freshman scurried by you, practically running to their first classes of the day. You chuckled to yourself, grabbing a coffee on your way to your 9am – Physiology of the Human Body.

“Oh, hey Y/N! How was your summer?” your favorite barista Ben asked you when you made your way to the counter. You shrugged your backpack off of one of your shoulders, grabbing your wallet out of the pocket in the front. “You know, I worked and I worked and… I worked some more,” you giggled.

“The usual, mocha surprise, extra shot?” he asked you, pouring milk into the steam pitcher and steaming it to the temperature he knew you liked. You shook your head. “Yes please,” you cooed. 

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Rogue One Spoilers (Easter Egg References)

1: In the opening Prologue when we see the Erso family home, there’s a pitcher of “Blue Milk” on the counter (Originally seen in Episode 4.

2: When we first see adult Jyn she is being held prisoner on a transport that seems to be a HAVw A6 Juggernaut Tank. This is the heavily armored wheeled talk that was first seen in Revenge of the Sith at the Battle of Kashyyyk.

3: When we see Yavin IV for the first time we get a shot of the ship yard; in the upper corner, one can easily see the ship The Ghost from Star Wars Rebels. Later on in the final battle there is at least two moments where The Ghost can be seen fighting. First when the Rebek fleet arrives, The Ghost is one of the ships to appear and It’s seen flying in front of the flagship bridge.

4: The most obvious is Saw Gerrera (Forest Whitaker). Saw is the first live action appearance of a character made for the animated series. Introduced in Star Wars The Clone Wars Season 5 Episode 2 during the Onderon arc.

5: When Jyn and Cassian are on Jedha, the walk into Dr. Cornelius Evazan and Ponda Baba. The same two thugs that Luke and Obi Wan encounter in the Mos Eisley Cantina.

6: Rogue One marks the first live action appearance of Kyber Crystals. They have been shown and mentioned throughout both Clone Wars and Rebels. Kyber Crystals are the heart of a lightsaber as well as partial energy sources for Super Weapons including both Death Stars and ancient Sith weapons such as the Temple from Rebels Season 2 Finale.

7: Chirrut Îmwe and Blaze Malbus (Donnie Yen and Jiang Wen respectively) mention that they are (Guardians of the Whills". The Whills date back to before the original film as in George Lucas’ original script, the events of the franchise were told in “Holy Book” that told the histories of the galaxy.

8: When we first see Darth Vader it is at a dark ‘castle’. This Castle is located on Mustafar where Anakin and Obi Wan had their fateful duel. This palace may be a reference to Vader’s residences in Legends were he has a private palace in the Imperial City on Coruscant or Bast Castle which was Vader’s private fortress on the Acid Rain covered planet of Vjun (Source: Wookieepedia: Search “Vader’s personal abode” and “Bast Castle”

9: General Jan Dodonna has a very small cameo role. Dodonna is the commanding officer of Yavin IV and was in command during the battle of the First Death Star. He was originally played by Alex McCrindle and is now played by Game of Thrones actor Ian McElhinney

10: Genevieve O'Reilly returns to the role of Mon Mothma despite all her scenes from Revenge of the Sith being removed from the final film. (All her scenes can be found online)

11: When Bail Organa and Mon Mothma are speaking privately, over an intercom someone calls for “General Syndulla” it is unknown if they are calling for Hera Syndulla from Rebels or her father Cham Syndulla from Clone Wars and Rebels.

12: When the Rebel communication officer is running to speak to Mon Mothma, for about 2 seconds, C1-10P can be see moving off screen. You can also hear him making his signature grunting sounds.

13a: During the Final Battle the film shows several X-Wing and Y-Wing pilots. There are 4 pilots to pay attention for: Both Red and Gold Leader are portrayed by their actors from the original film, Drewe Henley and Angus MacInnes respectively. Both pilots die during the Battle of the First Death Star. The film uses archive footage from the original film as Angus is much older now and Henley died in early 2016.

13b: The third pilot to look out for is the only X-Wing pilot we see shot down from inside the cockpit. This pilot’s call sight is Red-5 which is the call sign that is given to Luke Skywalker during the Battle of the First Death Star.

13c: (Note: I have no proof of this) There is an X-Wing pilot with black hair and a black Mustache. I believe that this is Biggs Darklighter

14: During the Final Battle, the Rebels strategically use a Hammerhead Corvette. This ship was originally introduced in the game: Knights of the Old Republic, which took place several thousand years before the movies. The ships we re-introduced into Canon in Star Wars Rebels Season 2.

15: Krennic’s personal security is made up of Death Tropers which are the best of the best Stormtropers. In appearance they are similar to Shadowtroopers from the game Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast (Legends).

16: When we first see Darth Vader, he is submerged in a bacta tank. This tells us that he is still nursing his wounds from his battle with Obi Wan.

17: Rogue One introduces a new type of TIE fighter: the TIE Striker which is only seen during the final battle. They stand out due to their elongated cockpits and horizontal wings.

18: When Jyn and Cassian are searching for the Death Star plans they looks through several different files. One of these files is called “Black Saber”. This may have a double meaning as it can be referencing the ancient lightsaber called the Dark Saber that belonged to Pre Vizla and Darth Mail in Clone Wars and now owned by Sabine Wren In Rebels, or it can be a reference to the Darksaber Superweapon (Legends) which was built by Durga the Hutt. The weapon was supposed to have the power of the Death Star but built in the shape of a space station sized lightsaber.

This is everything that I noticed so if anyone noticed anything else or if I’m wrong about something please tell me I want to know.

UPDATE:

19: The device that Cassian uses to look through the Imperial Files is identical to devices in George Lucas’ first film THX 1138, continuing the tradition of referencing the film.

20: This is the first time in Star Wars history that an entry to the franchise does not have the famous Wilhelm Scream. (Worst SW Movie Ever)

21: At one point there are two Stormtroopers talking about the old T15 model finally being discontinued. This is a reference to A New Hope when Obi Wan is deactivating the tractor beam, two Stormtroopers are talking about the new T16. Also in The Force Awakens when Rey is sneaking around Starkiller Base, there are two Stormtroopers talking about the new T17 which is apparently not as good as the predecessor. This may be a joke about the Star Wars franchise as a whole: The Prequel Trilogy is finally over (T15), the Original Trilogy is good and impressive (T16) and the Sequel Trilogy, while good doesn’t live up to its predecessor (T17) -Credit to @forcedintostarwars  for pointing this out to me

My Small Bean

Note: This is my first ever fan fiction, so please don’t expect too much. The prompt is too cute I had to write it. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Pairing: Mare Cal

Word count: 1,926 

“We’re both baristas and sometimes I have trouble reaching for things and I show up to work one day to find a personalized stool with hearts and my name on it I HATE YOU but also thanks”

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You know what makes me irrationally angry? Whoever decided that this should be a thing.

Fuck you and your goddamn “open shelving”. Who the fuck wants everyone to see all their dishes, like that cup you got from DisneyWorld 10 years ago and the mismatched plates that you have collected from various sources since you graduated college? Worse than that, who is going to stand on their toes and try to get those blue plates in the back, risking both themselves and the entirety of their china selection?

It’s a dumb fucking trend pushed by people who, I guess, don’t actually use dishes, or maybe just put the dishes they actually use in the cabinets below the counter. It’s a trend for super rich people who can afford to buy aesthetically pleasing dish sets that all match that they never use, and then hire maids to dust the dishes they don’t use because cabinet doors keep dust and dirt off your goddamn dishes.

Hey Denise, why not remodel your kitchen and remove your useful cabinets by replacing them with shelves to display your two mugs and suspiciously numerous milk pitchers. Also, why not stand your porcelain trays on their side at the back? Nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Mom? What are those gold lumpy things on our top shelf?”

“They’re alien eggs, sweetie. And when the planets are aligned, they will hatch,  suck out your bone marrow. All that protects you are these five artichokes I’ve got laying around on my counter for no apparent reason.”

“Why don’t you cook them?”

“I HAVE A TRENDY WHITE KITCHEN, DENISE. IF I USE IT IT WILL GET DIRTY!”

THANK GOD YOU’VE GOT THAT REMINDER TO LIVE, KAREN. I WOULD HAVE FORGOTTEN IF NOT FOR YOUR TRUSTY OPEN SHELVING KITCHEN.

Remember those cubbies you had in elementary school before you had the high school real estate called a locker? Well, we’ve brought them back. But instead of getting stickers for dropping your Dora the Explorer bag in it, you instead get to look at the set of dishes your dead grandmother bought you while you heat up Hot Pockets. Also, the food in your fridge is judging you as you masturbate on that couch. Why are you ignoring your almond milk, Jessica? IT NEEDS YOU NOW MORE THAN EVER.

Anyway, I will punch every open shelving concept in the face. Try me.

of almond milk and extra mocha

In which a teenage Kara has a job working at the local coffee shop, Java Machine, and a certain green-eyed girl quickly becomes her favorite regular.

Basically SuperCorp Coffee Shop AU adorableness.

Find it on Ao3 here:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11215203

The espresso machine sputters out a steady stream of pure caffeine under Kara’s watchful gaze even as the sound of the steam wand deafens her ears to almost everything else in the background.

Years of experience working with the aging, temperamental machine lets her time everything perfectly- the milk finishes steaming at the exact moment the drip of espresso comes to a halt, and she finishes the latte off with a drizzle of caramel atop the fluffy foam before slipping a lid on and cheerfully handing it to the waiting customer.

Careful not to touch anything other than the handle of the still-hot pitcher, she gingerly takes it over the sink for a quick rinse with cold water before washing it thoroughly, setting it back on the rack to dry, and heading back to clean the machine.

She takes her time with this, mainly because it’s past sunset, and the flow of customers has dropped off to the point where she doesn’t have to rush around at light speed. Aside from customer with the caramel latte, who’d long since left, the store is empty except for her.

A quick glance at the clock across the room as she heads back to perch on the stool behind the register tells her she’s got about ten minutes until her favorite customer pops in for her usual drink. It’s more than enough time for her to rest her aching feet before getting back up to prep Lena’s order so that it’s ready and waiting by the time she walks in.

The green-eyed girl orders the same thing every time- a hot chocolate made with almond milk and two pumps of mocha.

She comes here regularly enough to have purchased a for-here mug that she leaves at the shop for her daily visits. Kara keeps it on a mostly empty shelf so that it’s never disturbed or in danger of being knocked to the ground by even the clumsiest of her co-workers.

At three minutes to six, Kara spoons cocoa powder into the bottom of the mug as she fills a pitcher with almond milk and sets it to steam. Afterwards, she strains the foam with a spoon and she pours hot milk into the cup, stirring in mocha syrup to finish it off.

The clock strikes six mere seconds before the bell above the door chimes, signaling Lena’s entrance just as Kara makes her way back to the register, hot chocolate in hand.

The transaction is, as always ever since the baristas got used to the girl and her order, a silent one. Kara slides the mug over the counter as Lena hands her a shiny credit card with a soft, grateful smile. She never wants a receipt.

Lena takes her usual seat in the back, in a booth tucked away from the windows and most of the light. It’s not a seat that people usually sit in unless there aren’t any more seats to be taken, but Lena favors it.

It’s been two years of this, and yet Lena remains as much a stranger to the workers as any of the one-time tourists stopping over in the town on their bus route to some other, bigger city.

The only thing Kara knows for sure about the girl is what she’s managed to glean off of her appearance and her credit card. A quick glance at the bottom of the card revealed her name- Lena Luthor- and the uniform she occasionally wore during the school year was from the uptown prep school that only the wealthiest from the other side of town could afford.

The rest of Midvale wasn’t poor, not by any standards. Downtown Midvale was a quiet, pleasant place to live, with a bustling population and some of the best public schools in the state. But the other side of town was another story altogether, filled with mansions spaced far apart from each other, stables, fancy restaurants, and a country club to boot.

It was obvious from the shiny, black credit card that had much more heft than the regular flimsy squares of plastic that Kara’s usually handed and Lena’s always-immaculate appearance that the girl comes from money- and lots of it.

Other than that, Kara can count the number of things she knew about Lena on one hand.

She likes mocha syrup in her hot chocolate and prefers almond milk over regular. She wears her hair up whenever she’s in uniform and only leaves it down if she’s dressed casually. And she never, ever wears makeup.

Not that she needs it, though.

Lena Luthor has the kind of porcelain complexion that most people spend hundreds of dollars trying to achieve and sparkling eyes that glow a rich, pure green. Her features were the kind you’d expect to see gracing magazine covers- sculpted cheekbones and a jawline that looked like it was cut from marble.

Kara’s been caught by various coworkers gaping at Lena’s stunningly attractive expression whenever she was focused on something- perfect brow creased and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It had been the source of repeated bouts of teasing from everyone to the old woman who only worked Sunday afternoons just because she ‘wanted to see the young people’ to her typically no-nonsense boss, Cat Grant.

The bell above the door chimes again, signaling the arrival of a new customer and pulling Kara out of her usual, Lena-induced trance.

It’s a boy who looks like he belongs in the same tax bracket as Lena- dressed in a polo shirt, designer jeans, and doused in some expensive, painfully strong cologne.

Unfortunately for Kara, she recognizes him.

It’s Maxwell Lord, whose father owns the country club and the stables- the latter of which Alex used to hold a job at. Used to, because she’d been forced to quit after enduring repeated, unwanted advances from the jerkwad now currently stinking up her coffee shop.

The scowl that pulls down the corners of Kara’s mouth is a furious one.

An oil-slick grin splits his lips as he approaches Lena’s corner booth.

“Hey there, Luthor. I thought I saw you duck in here.”

Lena peers up from the pages of her book with a faint mixture of dismay and disdain flickering in her eyes.

Kara resists the urge to leap over the counter and smash him over the head with the freshly washed pitcher in her hands.

Alex had come home in tears on more than one occasion after a run-in with the Lord boy during her shifts at the stables. Even her devotion to the horses hadn’t been enough incentive for her to continue working under Maxwell’s leery gaze.

“Maxwell,” she says, voice laced with a soft accent that Kara’s come to love hearing on the rare occasions when she does speak, “What a surprise.”

The way she lingers on the last word betrays how she feels about this encounter. Kara almost laughs.

“Come on, Luthor, don’t be like that.” He laughs, running his fingers through his hair in a way that suggests he thinks the move is highly attractive.

It really isn’t.

The smile Lena levels at him is downright icy. “Don’t be like what, Maxwell?” Her voice is measuredly polite, with as much of a challenging edge as the rules of propriety would allow.

Kara slips out from behind the counter to intervene before things can escalate even further.

As much as she’d love to see Lena tear Maxwell down a few pegs, she really doesn’t want to have to clean up the mess that a thrown cup of hot chocolate would make, and judging by the way the other girl’s grip on her mug has tightened, that moment isn’t too far off.

“If you aren’t going to make a purchase,” she says, forcing herself to sound professional through gritted teeth, “I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Recognition spreads across his features at the sight of her.

His self-assured smirk returns in full force, and Kara mentally gags.

“Little Danvers. How’s your sister? Still a frigid bitch?”

Every molecule of her body is now nearly vibrating with the force of her rage.

Kara can’t help it-

She snarls, teeth bared in a feral grimace as her fingers curl into fists at her sides.

“Get. Out.”

There’s a building pressure behind her eyes, one she struggles to control.

Turning Maxwell Lord into a pile of ashes on the spot was becoming a more and more tempting course of action by the second.

It would be so easy to incinerate him, sweep up the remains with a dustpan, and dump them in the garbage where he belonged.

So easy.

But still- this is Earth, and Kara couldn’t just go around using her powers on people, no matter how much they deserved to be obliterated into little more than dust.

She clamps her eyes shut before they can burn red with the force of her heat vision.

“Leave, Max. Before I call the police.” It’s a valid threat, and they both know it. The chief of police has a soft spot for the Danvers sisters, and has hated Maxwell Lord with a passion since he learned of how he’d harassed Alex.

Chief J’onzz might be Kara’s only contender in terms of the depth of their grudges against him.

He complies, slinking off towards the door, grumbling under his breath the entire time.

She doesn’t open her eyes until she’s sure that he’s gone.

“Thanks for the assist.”

Kara spins around just in time to catch sight of the wry smile that tilts the corners of Lena’s mouth upwards.

She grins back.

“Not a problem.” She nods down toward the mug on the table between them. “I just really didn’t want to have to pull out the mop if you threw it at him.”

“Am I that easy to read?” A spark of mischief makes her eyes gleam even brighter, if possible.

Kara fidgets under her curious gaze. “It’s what I would have done.”

“I like the way you think.” She sets her book down and holds out a slender hand. “Lena Luthor.”

Kara takes it without hesitation. Their joined hands fit together perfectly, and she finds that Lena’s skin is soft and pleasantly warm to the touch. She doesn’t think she ever wants to let go.

“Kara Danvers.”

Lena’s fingers tighten around hers, and the Kryptonian’s heart stutters to a stop in her chest.

“I know we’ve seen each other pretty regularly for the past couple of years, but, uh…” A rosy flush begins to spread across her cheeks, and Kara commits the sight of it to memory almost immediately. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Kara.”

Something warm begins to blossom in the achingly empty spaces between her bones, melting the ice that Kara thought she’d never find herself without after her time in the hollow, bitterly cold void of the Phantom Zone.

She smiles.

“Likewise.”


Like it? Love it? Let me know! :)

anonymous asked:

How would the suitors react to the Princess going rogue--like skipping her duties/hiding from the men when they come for a visit/have a lesson or appointment? Also how do they catch her and decide what her punishment would be?

Hihi! Ok, so here goes…. I’m a little sadistic when it come to “punishment” and “revenge,” lol.

Alyn- he catches her hiding from her riding lesson (why anyone would hide from riding, I dunno) in the dining room under the table (good try Princess). Alyn isn’t exactly tactful and he carries her under his arm like a sack of potatoes out to the stable, he makes her ride the bounciest horse and then he has her clean stalls after, lol.

Giles - he catches her having a smoke (and cussing) with Sid (trouble) in the garden. Those are all a no-no for a Princess elect, so he has Sid hand over the biggest, strongest, most disgusting cigar and makes her smoke it all until she’s green in the face (and probably pukes).

Leo - she somehow skips her language lesson with him, and he finds her in the kitchen eating cupcakes. She immediately knows she’s in trouble and he’s all, “No, no, it’s ok- we can just make it up tomorrow.” As the Princess is stuffing the last cupcake in her mouth, Leo drops the pitcher of milk and it shatters on the floor. No crying.

Louis - she skipped her dance lesson with him and he found her still in bed all curled up nice and cozy, he caresses her cheek and she sleepily says, “Giles, tell Louis I’m sick,” (lies). Louis proceeds to pour water from a nearby flower vase on her.

Albert - she blew off a historical tour of Stein that Albert was supposed to give to her. He didn’t do anything, he’s too nice. But he bitched to Byron about it and Byron sent a message to Giles who scolded the Princess like a child.

Nico - even Princesses are supposed to clean their rooms (a little), so when she’s lazy and doesn’t give her clothes to the servants to wash - Nico throws them out the window where they’re all scattered across the hedgerows/trees. He said Chirol did it. Sid found a pair of panties in the hedges and kept them.

Rayvis - she was supposed to meet him for tea, but didn’t show up because she wanted to sunbath in the garden. Rayvis found out from Nico, so he made his way to the garden where he proceeded to turn the sprinklers on and locked her out of the back entrance. She bangs on the window where he gives her a shit eating grin and a wave.

Sid - catches her sneaking out one night (typical Princess move), so he goes to her room and locks her door- he then finds a place to watch for when she returns hours later (he’s patient) and gets a good show when terror ensues when she climbs back up only to find she’s locked out. He probably calls to her and tells her he’ll let her in for a price ;)

Robert - she missed a portrait painting with him (she didn’t want to sit for hours?), so he paints a mustache on every single portrait of her around the palace XD

Byron - she fails to show up for their political meeting so he declares war on Wysteria.. *cough makes her a sex slave cough*

Finding the drabble I started for this prompt and finish it. (´⊙ω⊙`) 

IwaOi coffee/flower shop AU

“Morning, Kyoko-nee,” Tooru greets cheerfully as he strolls into the coffee shop, several pots of full bloomed daisy in hands. “I’ve got your flowers.”

“Morning, Tooru-kun,” Shimizu, the coffee shop owner, says and peaks out from behind the espresso machines. Seeing the florist’s searching gaze, she smiles knowingly and adds, “Hajime is in the kitchen.”

“That obvious?” Tooru asks sheepishly, placing pots of flowers on the counter and rubbing his cheeks.

“Well, you did look me in the eyes when you greet me,” Shimizu says. “But maybe next time you could try to hold it for more than a second.”

“I’m not that bad,” Tooru retorts but his eyes betray him and turn toward the kitchen the next moment. Tooru catches himself this time and bites his lips as he looks back at Shimizu. “Okay, I got it. I got it bad. But can you blame me?”

Shimizu nods. “Hajime is indeed an attractive young man.”

Too attractive,” Tooru complaints half-heartedly, flopping himself in a counter stool. “I wish he is uglier so I could have my easy life.”

No, Tooru has lied. Iwaizumi Hajime can have all the glory of attractiveness with his sharp features, tan skin, beautiful green eyes, and that perfectly-proportioned body.

Don’t forget that pair of swallow tattoo you just discovered the other day behind his ear, a small voice reminds him in the back of his mind (helplessly).

“Cheer up,” Shimizu says, pointing at the general direction of the kitchen. “Hitoka-chan is baking today. Heard it’s chocolate.”

“Chocolate,” Tooru says. “Oh, oh chocolate. That’s why Iwa-chan is-”

“Oikawa-san!”

Tooru turns to see the small blonde emerging from the kitchen. He waves at the girl, whose hands are busy carrying a big chocolate cake.

“Good morning,” Yachi greets with a bright smile.

“Morning, Ya-chan,” Tooru returns the smile, which only grows wider when he spots his favorite barista (and person) trailing behind the petite girl. “Morning, Iwa-chan.”

Said barista looks up, lips pulled into a lopsided smile. “Oh hey, Oikawa. What’re you doing here?”

“I am here for Kyoko-nee’s flowers,” Tooru says, gesturing proudly at his flowers. “And to bring a greater start for your day.”

“As if,” Iwaizumi scoffs but doesn’t bother to hold back the brighter smile blooming across his features as he moves to the coffee machines.

“Oikawa-san, have you had breakfast yet?” Yachi asks while she cuts the cake into even pieces. “Do you want some chocolate cake?”

“Of course. Ya-chan’s cake is the best,” Tooru says, thanking Yachi when she hands him the cake, before he turns to Iwaizumi and calls over. “See, Iwa-chan, this is how you should treat your favorite customer.”

“With pity?” Iwaizumi quips back while he pours the coffee beans in the grinder and Tooru has to distract himself by shoving a forkful of cake in his mouth when Iwaizumi doesn’t comment on the ‘favorite customer’ part.

God, this crush is getting worse, Tooru thinks before his eyes goes wide when he registers the rich taste in his mouth. He turns to Yachi. “Ya-chan, this cake is amazing! Has Iwa-chan tried some?”

Yachi laughs. “Oh, believe me he has. Iwaizumi-san volunteered to test-taste two whole pieces already.”

“I wish I have the talent in baking like you do, Ya-chan,” Tooru concludes, slouching across the counter with a pout while sneaking another glance at the barista busying himself with a brew of coffee. “Maybe Iwa-chan would be nicer to me if I fed him.”

“You give him flowers,” Yachi remarks, like it is something truly impressive. “Iwaizumi-san really likes the forget-me-not you gave him.”

“He does?” Tooru perks up in his seat.

“Yes, he does,” Yachi answers, nodding for emphasis. “Have you seen the little water spray he bought to water the flower? Iwaizumi-san also moves the pot so the flower can get the best sunlight everyday.”

Tooru is beaming. “Did Iwa-chan mention about the color? I just got a pot of hydrangea that has the perfect shade of blue matching the forget-me-not I gave him. On second thought, I am getting it before the shop opens.”

“You are leaving?” Iwaizumi’s voice cuts in suddenly as he places a cup of coffee in front of him, along with a pitcher of milk. “Here, you might need this. Your dark circles are greeting.”

“No, they are not,” Tooru protests more on principle than anything. “And where’s my sugar? You know I don’t like my coffee black.”

“You got your cake and a whole pitcher of milk,” Iwaizumi says, sliding the pitcher closer to Tooru. “Or you could always exchange your cake for sugar.”

Tooru laughs. It’s so easy to laugh whenever he’s with Iwaizumi and he feels warm and lucky again to get to know him. “So that’s your plan? You should be smarter than that, you know, Iwa-chan. You disappoint me.”

Iwaizumi hums and Tooru makes a show of cutting another piece of cake, flaunting it in front of Iwaizumi, before shoving it in his mouth.

He gives a challenging smile as Iwaizumi quirks a brow but Tooru’s smile falls into a pout when he goes for another piece and his fork misses the cake because someone has moved it away at the last minute.

“Iwa-chan, what are- hey!” Oikawa protests out loud, watching Iwaizumi grabbing a fork for himself and taking nearly half of the remaining cake in one bite. “You can’t just steal my cake and didn’t even give me my deserved sugar.”

Iwaizumi sticks out his tongue at Tooru. “I made you coffee. I even know you like your milk hot so I’ve heated it up for you. Be grateful.”

Tooru doesn’t respond, Tooru can’t respond as his brain has short-circuited the moment he caught a glimpse of silver between pearl white teeth.

A tongue piercing.

Iwaizumi with hidden tattoo, knowledge to talk about star signs, loving chocolate with a passion, and a tongue piercing.

Tooru drops his face into his arms, letting out a silent scream.

“… You okay?”

Tooru’s refuses to raise from the shelter of his arms because the air has already felt colder against his flushed face and oh god he knows how red his face would become when he’s flustered.

“Please just take the cake,” Tooru mumbles.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi says, a bit hesitated.

Tooru stays hidden but strains his ears to catch any indication of Iwaizumi’s movement. He still gets started at the hand suddenly on top of his head.

“Here you go,” Iwaizumi says, ruffling Tooru’s hair before leaving.

Tooru reaches a hand and takes down the thing Iwaizumi left on top of his head. He smiles as he sees the sugar packs, two packs, and the little drawing on the white package.

It’s a doodle of Tooru (he only recognizes it by the wavy hair and the cowlick on top) with big (dull) eyes and even bigger dark circles under them.

Drink up” is scribbled under the doodle and Tooru smiles as he takes a sip from his only-milk-added coffee.

I guess one pack of sugar is enough for today, Tooru decides.

A Charming Chip in the Cup

My entry for the Same Prompt Party!  I hope you enjoy it, and I hope more of you will join us! 



You don’t belong here, and everyone can see it.

Haruka nervously touched the edge of her collar as she looked in the gallery of mirrors in front of her, and ran her fingers down the edge of her grey vest. Michiru hd said the grey vest with the navy jacket looked handsome, and smart, but staring at therself in the mirror, Haruka wasn’t too sure she thought so. The rich coral and peach tones of the bathroom swayed around her, the perfume of women whose purses might have cost half a year’s salary curling and twisting about the room in soft floral breezes.

She nervously smoothed her hair to the side, and felt Michiru’s arms encircling her waist.

“You look absolutely lovely,” Michiru smiled into the mirror, “I feel quite fortunate to be on your arm.”

Haruka scoffed. “I don’t know.”

“Now, none of that,” She turned Haruka to her and patted her lapels, adjusting the small pocket square that matched her tie,  “All will be well,” she touched Haruka’s cheek, “I love you, and you have an ebullient and delightful personality, and whatever my parents might think, I know their partners will find you charming, and they cannot bear to offend them.”

“‘They have to be nice to you’ isn’t very comforting.”

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Feisty

ANONYMOUS SAID: *SLAMS FIST ON THE TABLE* SNAFU SHELTON OR ELSE! PRETTY PLEASE???

I was going to combine this and the request from BRYBEARLOVE but decided that it’d be cooler to write two prompts instead of one, that way everyone wins (:

Word Count: 1091

Y/E/C- Your eye color

Y/F/N- Your first name

Y/L/N- Your last name

Y/N/N- Your nickname

– 

It was dark by the time Snafu got off the train, the moon was high in the sky and the stars shone almost too brightly for his liking. It felt good to be back in New Orleans and off of that piece of shit island. He shouldered his bag, gave a silent goodbye to his friend Eugene, and he was off.

He walked down the street, the cool night air felt good after the humidity he faced only a few weeks prior. Snafu walked towards the old apartment’s he lived in, and stomped up the creaky wooden steps, not caring if he woke anyone up. Truth was he was totally exhausted and just wanted to sleep in a real bed for once. Jogging up the last few steps he reached his apartment, trying the door handle only to find the handle locked.

He was about to dig around his bag for the key when you opened the door, night clothes on, and a rose colored robe wrapped loosely around your waist. “Can I help you, sir?” You took the last drag of your cigarette, and snubbed it out in the ashtray you’d carried over with you.

The tan man struggled with his words for a moment, which was surprising considering how mouthy he usually was. “I’m- I’m uh, sorry to bother you ma’am,” he started, his stone blue eyes flitting up to catch your (y/e/c) ones. “This here is my apartment, had it since before the war.”

You shook your head, hair bobbing with the movement. “I’m not a ma’am,” you corrected, lips pouting just a tad bit. “And this is my apartment, has been for seven months,” You saw the look on the man’s face drop, and a small sigh escaped your lips. “I can welcome you in, if you’d like. There’s a spare room, though I suppose you know that,” You pulled the door all the way open, gesturing for the man to come in. “Oh and do take your shoes off, I’ve just swept the floors. You gotta name?” You asked him, on hand on your hip as you shut the door and locked it again.

Snafu nodded, looking around the small apartment to see what you’d changed. It hadn’t changed much, though you had changed the paint to a nice beige color rather than the sickly green it had been, and you’d rearranged the furniture. “Snafu- Er, Merriell Shelton, Miss, thank you for letting me in.” He placed the olive green bag on the floor as he unlaced his boots, laces making a small pop sound each time they came off of a rivet.

You hummed and scooped the bag up, carrying it into the spare room just next to yours. “Now, Snafu, I do expect you to find a job and help clean up around here, after all I can’t do it all by myself,” You tossed the bag onto the bed, and walked back towards the kitchen. “Coffee or tea?”

Snafu froze in his place as he heard you speak; you were gonna let him stay here? Damn, you were a backward broad. He didn’t object though, just nodded and stood in the middle on the living room. “I’ll take a coffee, thank you,” He took his cap off and held it in his hands, his curly brown hair stuck up in tufts where the hat once sat. “What’s your name?”  He followed you into the kitchen, and took a seat at the small circular table.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),” You said, grabbing two mugs from the shelf above the stove, and set a small glass bowl of sugar on the table before searching the refrigerator for the pitcher of milk. It was a newer model than Snafu had ever seen, hell if he didn’t know any better it might as well be brand new. “But you can call me (Y/N/N).” You set the milk down with a thunk and turned back towards the Percolator that sat on the stove. You gripped the handle and began pouring the hot coffee into the mugs, handing one to Snafu once you’d filled them both sufficiently.

He nodded in thanks, only pouring a dash of the milk into the darker liquid. “I only have one question, Miss (Y/N), and then I swear to God I will leave you be,” You quirked an eyebrow, taking two scoops of the sugar and a splash of milk in your coffee. “Why is a Dame like you bein’ so generous to a wet blanket like me?” You chuckled, taking a sip of the hot joe.

“My brother would’ve wanted me to.” You said, lips pulled into a tight smile. And Snafu knew what that meant.

Two months had passed and Snafu’s sleeping had finally evened itself out, though he still woke up every time you made breakfast before heading out to work. One day he woke up earlier than you and decided to do the cooking, after all he did owe you more than anyone he knew. It wasn’t nearly as good as yours was, in fact it was borderline terrible, but you enjoyed it nonetheless happy that the man had tried.

He had a job now too, working at a clothing department. It wasn’t what he wanted to be doing, hell he wanted to be an author when he was a kid. He wrote every day regardless. He wrote all about the war and what he and his boys went through, and how terrible that god damned weather was. And he asked you for help, you being an English major and all.

“You ever have a lady, Snafu?” You asked, lighting a cigarette for yourself and tossing him one and the matches when you were done.

He snorted, fingers tapping the keys on the typewriter in a slow, but well-paced manor. “You ever have a man, (Y/N)?” Snafu took the smoke and lit it, chuckling smugly. That comment earned him a slap to the back of his head and a scoff from you.

“For a man who has so much charm I’m surprised the girls aren’t dropping like flies around you.” Your voice was teasing, and you made your fingers walk across his shoulder.

“Feisty, sommes-nous?” He asked, the French words rolling off his tongue with ease.

You rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms on your chest, clearly not understanding anything but the word “feisty”. You sighed and turned towards the door, leaning on the frame before exiting. “If you ever learn how to take a hint, Merriell, come see me.”

Winner of Papa Winchester Award

A/N: @kittenofdoomage requested a fluffy Dean drabble for her birthday. This drabble goes with this stunning aesthetic made by the lovely @winchesterswoonathon and is also requested by Rhi.

Happy birthday Rhi! Hope you’ll have a great day!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

You moaned softly as you slowly started to come back to the waking world, goosebumps ghosting across your body at the feel of Dean’s lips caressing you naked back. His fingers softly stroked your hair to the side as his lips found your neck making you grin into your pillow.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Dean whispered into your ear before gently biting down on your earlobe making you giggle.

You rolled onto your back to find him hovering over you, smiling that knee weakening smile of his that made you happy you were already lying down. His emerald green eyes were sparkling as his gaze never left your face.

“What?” You laughed as he kept staring at you, starting to make you feel a tad self conscious. Dean just shook his head slightly before leaning down to kiss you.

His kiss was soft and exploring. Reminiscent of the very the first time he kissed you. Like he hadn’t kissed you a million times since then. His tongue danced with yours while his hands tangled into your hair.

You moaned softly as your hands wandered down his naked back to find he was wearing boxers. Dean pulled away with a small laugh as he must have felt your surprise and slight frustration.

“I made us breakfast.” He explained and shrugged when your eyes opened wide in shock. “It’s not much. Just some pancakes and coffee.”

Dean rolled off you and reached for the breakfast tray he left on the table by his side of the bed, giving you time to wrap the sheets around your it’s-past-midnight-so-let’s-start-celebrating naked body.

You sucked in a breath at the sight of the tray Dean had so lovingly made, as he presented it to you, and you almost started tearing up at the sight of it. Dean was a great boyfriend. He was way more attentive than you would have ever thought he would be before you started dating. He was not great with words, but he had always been great at showing you how he felt. Nevertheless, this was a first

You stared at the tray with plates of normal pancakes as well as chocolate chipped ones. It had syrup and strawberries and melon, which clearly was all for your benefit. You knew he hated fruit and all things remotely healthy. He had even remembered to bring a small pitcher of milk for your coffee, knowing you never drank it black in the morning.

“Dean…” You fought back the tears, but your voice was still a little grainier than usual, as you looked over at him.

“Oh come on. No chick flick moments. It is just breakfast, sweetheart. Eat!” Dean did his best to sound annoyed, but you smiled to yourself as you saw him beam with pride over your reaction and the sound you made, when you took your first bite.

“Yeah? It’s okay?” Dean’s eyes rested on you, him trying to asses your reaction before digging in himself.

“Dean, it’s perfect!” You smiled at him running your hand around his neck and into his hair drawing him in for a kiss, careful not to knock of the tray resting between you.

A sincere happy smile grazed Dean’s plump lips as you pulled apart, and he almost blushed under your gaze before he quickly turned his attention to the food in front of him.

You ate and chatted about anything and everything, enjoying each other’s company and how easy the words always flowed between you. You kept it up  until the plates were empty and Dean quickly lowered the tray to the floor and pulled a nice wrapped gift out from under the bed.

“Dean, you didn’t have too…” You began, but Dean only hushed you and forced it into your hands.

“Just open it, princess.”

You bit your lip and smiled as you started carefully untying the ribbon and opening the box in front of you, revealing its content. You immediately started giggling as you saw the two sets of black laced underwear.

“Really, Dean?” You grinned at him as you held up the more see through of the two. “Isn’t this not more for you, than it is for me?”

Dean smirked back at you and got of the bed. “Sweetheart wear those and I will give you, your real gift.” Dean bent down, pulling off his boxers and you instantly bent over laughing as you saw the bow on Dean’s half erect cock.

Still you already knew this would be the best gift you had ever received.

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Cold Brew Coffee

Cold brew coffee is my new best friend, and it should be yours. Why? Because it is lower in acid than traditionally brewed coffee, is easy to make in large batches, and won’t go stale like hot coffee so I can keep a pitcher in my fridge at all times. And believe me, I mean ALL times.

There are three ways to make it, but I went the french press route:

Method One - French Press

Add one cup ground coffee and three cups cold water to a french press. Let sit in the fridge for twelve hours. Slowly push down the plunger and pour cold brew coffee into a pitcher. This is a concentrate, so add equal parts water or milk and enjoy!

Method Two - Nut Milk Bag

Pour one cup coffee grounds into a nut milk bag, and add to a pitcher full of water. Let sit in the fridge four twelve hours. Remove nut milk bag, empty the grounds, wash and save for next time. Enjoy your coffee to your liking!

Method Three - Coffee Filter

Combine one cup of coffee grounds in a pitcher of water. Let sit in the fridge for twelve hours. Slowly pour the pitcher through a traditional coffee filter. Enjoy your coffee to your liking!

Note: Pour COFFEE into an ice cube tray to make coffeecubes. This way, the ice won’t water down your delicious cup of cold brew beauty.

title: Ghost
summary: In which Sakura sees things that she doesn’t want to see.
pairing: itasaku

Tell me the things you know to be true.
I’ll tell the things I know about you.

A vein began to throb slowly in her temple as the high-pitched voice keened into her ear. 

Tell me the things you know to be true.
I’ll tell the things I know about you.

She slurped her coffee down in slow, jerking movements. Because if she didn’t-

Tell me the things you know to-

“SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Sakura finally snapped, flinging her coffee cup. It didn’t hit the greyish wisp leaning over her. Rather, the white cup pierced right through it, not even leaving a mark. Coffee splattered across the floor as Sakura jerked her chair forward. And the stupid thing let out a reedy giggle as it dissolved into smoke.

“Goddamn ghosts,” she growled under her breath.

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