two cups of espresso

Extra Sugar

Originally posted by somethingincrediblyright

Requested: By myself honestly, but this is also my (pretty late) fic for Day 1 of the Hamilton Write-A-Thon, hosted by @hamwriters (thank you!!)

Pairings: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: The Reader works in a coffee shop, and she feels a bit territorial about her favorite customer  {Coffee Shop AU}

Warnings: I don’t think so

Word Count: 1,285

A/N: I hope that you guys like this, I was super unsure about it until @secretschuylersister was the sweetest person ever and read it for me. Sorry that this is being posted so late, I was traveling yesterday. 

Your customer was back.

Saying that felt unfair, but you couldn’t help but smile every time he came back. Most of the time, he looked even more worse for wear than he had the last time. His hair was constantly disheveled, the bags under his eyes were worrying, and it looked like he owned one sweatshirt that he might have lived in. And somehow, he seemed genuinely happy to be there.

And when you were working with Corrine, he was one of the few people that was able to pull you out of the sour mood that you inevitably fell into after working with her for more than a few hours. You had opened that day, all by yourself. It wasn’t like you were scheduled that way, either. A few minutes after the morning rush, Corrine waltzed in. She looked well rested and pleasant. It took everything that you had in you not to choke her out.

Lin was making his way up to the counter, and you had already started his two shots of espresso.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you with anything?” You glanced behind you to see Corrine actually attempting to help a customer. But something felt off. She was leaning too far over the counter, and her voice sounded more like a purr than a barista helping a customer.

You mouthed his order to yourself as he responded. “Vanilla latte with a double shot, please.”

“Of course, I’ll just get that started for you.” Corrine said, tapping a few buttons on the register before rushing over to where you were putting the finishing touches on his drink.

“I’ll get this one.” She said, making it sound like she was doing you a favor by taking credit for your work. You watched her in disbelief as she handed Lin the cup, holding onto his hand for a few more seconds than really necessary and then stood watching him make his way out of the shop.

You sighed to yourself, thinking that at least she wasn’t going to show up this early two days in a row.

You were sadly mistaken when you arrived to work the next morning to find Corrine behind the counter. Not only had she beaten you there, but she was sitting behind the counter doing no actual work.

“Hey!” She called, head snapping up from her phone when she heard the door open.

You chose to simply smile in return, not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

“So tell me, who was that man who’s order you knew by heart yesterday?” You held your breath, hoping to allow yourself at least a few seconds to calm down. “Because he is going to ask me out if it’s the last thing he does.”

You fought to keep the confused expression off of your face. Somehow, you felt more hurt than annoyed. Usually you rolled your eyes at Corrine’s antics, but this time felt different.

Oh God. You liked him. And somehow you had managed to be completely oblivious until Corrine wanted him. Typical.

“I don’t know much about him.” You said, taking off your coat and tying your apron around your waist. “His name is Lin-Manuel and he likes extra sugar in his coffee, even if he is a little bit embarrassed to ask for it.” You realized Corrine was barely even paying attention to you anymore, so you chose to stop talking, allowing silence to fill the room again.

“Well then, I guess that I will just have to take it upon myself to do some investigating.” Corrine said, tapping away at her phone.

You struggled through the morning rush, Corrine lounging in the back room while you somehow managed to spill not one but two cups of coffee on yourself.

By the time that Lin walked through the door, you were looking a bit worse for wear. “Hello!” you called, still feeling a sense of relief when he walked through the door. He fixed you with his blinding smile before making his way to the counter. “Vanilla latter with a double shot, right?”

His eyebrows drew together, confusion clouding his features. “You know my order?”

The blush was nearly instantaneous. “It is kind of my job to know your order.”

“Most people don’t bother, I guess.” He shrugged, and you were more than happy to let the subject drop.

Before you could say anything else, Corrine sat a cup of coffee in front of him. “It’s on the house.” She said, winking at him. You noticed a phone number scrolled along the side. Your heart suddenly felt a bit less fluttery, the butterflies abandoning their home in your stomach.

“Oh, well thanks!” He said, fixing her with a grin before grabbing the coffee and heading out of the shop.

“I think that my work here is done.” Corrine laughed, slipping on a coat and throwing her bag over her shoulder.

“You are scheduled for another four hours today.” You said meekly, gesturing to the cork board where the owner posted your schedules.

“I have to get ready for my date with Lin tonight.” She was talking to you like she was explaining a perfectly simple concept to a child.

“He already asked you out?” You were fighting not to feel defeated, but the doubt was swallowing you whole.

“No, but I’m sure that he will now that he has my number.” And just like that, she was gone.

Even though you were left alone for the foreseeable future, the morning rush was over and it would be nice to have some time to yourself. You had just begun to gather up the dishes left over from that morning when the bell over the door rang.

He was back.

You struggled to find words as he approached the counter, but they were all getting caught in your throat.

“I’m really sorry, I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but this is the worst cup of coffee that I have ever had in my entire life.” Lin said, chuckling. He sat the latte on the counter, shoving his hands in his pockets sheepishly.

“I can honestly say that I have never seen Corrine make a latte in the entire time that I have worked here, so that doesn’t sound very farfetched to me.” You tossed the cup into the trash can, starting two new shots of espresso for him.

“So that was her number on the cup then?” He asked. You might have just been projecting, but it almost sounded like he was disappointed.

“Yeah… sorry if she made you uncomfortable. Corrine can be a bit entitled at times.” You poured the espresso in the cup and gathered up all of the materials that you would need to steam his milk.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable with her giving me her number, but I might have been hoping that a different girl had written her’s down as well.”

“I- I think that we might be able to work something out.” Your heart was going insane, but you felt like you were going to float away. You added the vanilla and some extra sugar to his latte, scrolling your name and your phone number on the side of the cup.

“I’ll see you later.” Lin said, accepting the latte and taking a large sip.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” You called after him.

“I have confidence.” He laughed, giving you one last smile before pushing the door open.

You got a text message a few minutes later. It was from an unknown number, but you knew exactly who had sent it.

From: Unknown Number

Can I pick you up around seven? I promise we can go for something other than coffee! :D

café blues

genre: coffeeshop!au

star of the show: NCT’s Yuta

word count: 2,004 words

author’s note: the coffeeshop!au I said I wouldn’t write but then I saw Yuta and yeah… 

Originally posted by taei

opening line: “I’d mess up your order any day if that gives me a chance to talk to you whenever you come in for coffee.” 

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lilltherese123456  asked:

Would you be up for writing Alec and Magnus being domestic or cuddly in the institute like in front of Jace Clary Izzy etc?

writing requests are open !

“i’m back with our supplies,” he was only partially annoyed because he would have been more comfortable had he stayed behind to discuss what they were going to do about the demon problem. he weaved in between the trash on the floor, a frown tugging at his lips as he did so. he could, and could not, believe they had trashed their loft in the twenty minutes he was gone out for food and drinks; furthermore, he couldn’t believe magnus had allowed them to trash it especially given how meticulous the warlock was.

“did you remember the cheetos?” simon piped up as he snatched the plastic bag from jace’s hands, rifling through it before producing an orange and red chip bag. “these are cheeto puffs, alec.”

alec fought off the urge to roll his eyes (hopefully permanently into the back of his head), “if you wanted the right type of cheetos, you should have gotten them yourself.” without another word, he spun around to face magnus, a bright and toothy smile spreading across his face. “i believe you requested a venti caramel macchiato, double whip cream?” he questioned as he held out a starbucks cup, steam rising from the lid, “with two shots of espresso.”

“seriously? you remembered his macchiato—”

“i’m not dating you, simon,” he cut off as he handed the coffee to magnus, pressing a feather light kiss to his lips.

“thank you, alexander,” his lips twitched slightly in the beginnings of a smile then it was gone as he spun around, robe swooshing around him. “we’ve tracked down the location of the demons to an abandoned warehouse in brooklyn. the only problem is—”

“the activity levels are high and going in with six people would be a suicide mission,” jace cut in. for once in his life, he did not envy jace because the look he received from magnus was one that could strike a man dead.

“thank you, shadowhunter,” and alec could tell he was barely containing his anger at being interrupted by jace.

in one swift movement, he had moved to stand behind magnus, his arms moving to wrap around magnus’ waist. “honey,” he pressed his lips to the base of magnus’ hairline, arms curling tighter around magnus. he didn’t know what to say following the ‘honey’ part – should he say, “it’s okay”? it didn’t sound right to say that. so, he didn’t. he just held him, hoping his presence was enough to ‘calm him’.

“i’m fine, alec,” his voice was soft and if he wasn’t standing as close as he was, he would have missed it. he breathed in slowly, stepping slowly away from magnus, and once he was detached he slipped his hand in magnus’.

“what was that?”

alec looked over at the other four and for a second he was caught off guard because he completely forgot they were there. his mouth opened and closed as he tried to force something out of his mouth – anything. “uh…” he stared, hand instinctively tightening around magnus’.

“it’s called pda, shadowhunter. perhaps you’ve heard of it? it’s what you do when you really love someone,” magnus broke in, stepping between the two brothers.

“thank you,” the words came out as a sigh.

frostniskare  asked:

A prompt for Valentine fic, if you don't mind c: So: first time Stiles gets a date for Valentine, detailed plans and all, but that morning he's being stood up and shit goes down with a new baddy, so he's kind of freaking done, and he also gets hurt (but not too much) so Derek, feeling how much he's sad and angry, since Der called him there, decides to make up for it even with his awkward social skills and angry eyebrows. Cool date (and sex, if you're up to) ensues. HAPPY ENDING yeah c: Thanks c:

Also on ao3!

Stiles brought the bat down on the kelpie’s head again with a sickeningly wet thud. He raised it only to slam it back down on the creature’s pulverized cranium, bone cracking under the overzealous assault.

The rest of the pack looked on in a mix of horror and morbid fascination as Stiles continued to literally beat the dead supernatural horse. Black blood seeped out of the kelpie’s many various wounds, painting the rocky riverside with dark gore, the moss stained by the dark blood.

After a couple hikers had been reported missing in the preserve earlier that day, the pack had spent hours trying to figure out what had happened, attempting to decide whether or not there was a supernatural component or not. Their suspicions had intensified when the hiker’s dead bodies were found downstream, pre-mortem slashes and bruises covering them, fluid in their lungs indicating that they had drowned.

It was Stiles who had come to the conclusion that a kelpie was responsible for the deaths of the couple, pointing out the hoof shaped contusions on one of the men’s chests. Derek deeming it very plausible, the pack had taken to the preserve, searching the area in which the hikers had gone missing for any sign of the kelpie.

After over two hours of canvassing the area, searching for the creature, it had made its whereabouts known by bellowing out a deafening roar when Isaac got a little too close to the river where it was residing. In response, Isaac had thrown his head back and howled for reinforcements while trying to fight off the crazed kelpie.

The rest of the pack had arrived in time to save Isaac from getting his skull crushed by one of the kelpie’s hooves, Derek tugging him out of harm’s way with a ferocious roar of his own. The alpha had received a lash to his face from the kelpie’s whip-like tail of seaweed for his troubles, a line of blood smattered across his face as he flashed his bright red eyes at the kelpie.

With the pack surrounding it, the kelpie had become even more aggressive, lashing out at them whenever one of them so much as breathed, leaving almost all of them wounded, dragging a few of them into the river with it as it attempted to escape. Crawling out of the frigid water, Stiles had ended things with one fell swing of his bat, the kelpie collapsing on the riverbank with a loud thump, but once Stiles started, he couldn’t stop.

He was pissed. It was Valentine’s Day and there he was in the middle of the preserve, soaking wet with his side throbbing from where the kelpie had scratched him with the sharp edge of one of its hooves.

He grunted as he continued his assault on the kelpie’s skull, the rest of the pack wincing each time he landed a blow on the kelpie’s head, eyes riveted to the gut-wrenching scene. Eventually, after several excruciating minutes of the violence, a hand shot out to grab the bat, sparing the kelpie corpse another hit and stopping Stiles in his tracks

“What?!” Stiles growled, snapping his head up to meet Peter’s eyes, baring his teeth in a human snarl, panting heavily as he tightened his grip on the bat. Peter just rolled his eyes at him with a snort.

“As much as I am a fan of unnecessary violence, this―” he waved his hand to indicate the kelpie’s dead body, black blood seeping out of its demolished skull “―is just plain excessive,” Peter drawled with a judgemental grimace. He dropped his right hand, wrinkling his nose at the sticky black blood covering his palm before wiping it off on the side of his designer jeans. Turning back to Stiles, he casually suggested, “Now, why don’t we just wash up and spend the rest of the evening having rough, wild sex, hmm?”

“In your dreams,” Stiles spat viciously, straightening up and squaring his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at the smirking werewolf. He was in no mood for Peter’s perverted little teasing.

“Well, yes. But that doesn’t quite answer my question,” Peter pointed out, raking his half-lidded eyes over Stiles’ body, not bothering to conceal his blatant interest. Stiles rolled his eyes, freezing stock still when Peter tacked on, “One would think that after getting stood up this morning you would be more than happy to jump into bed with someone as good-looking as myself.”

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griever11  asked:




It’s not smart, it’s not brave. It’s just cowardly.

She thinks about what he said, and didn’t say, all night. Doesn’t sleep for the bitterness in his words as they confronted the reporter, as Leanne West insisted she never meant for anyone to die. 

And as the sun dawns, all Kate can see is the hard look on Rick’s face in interrogation, how he wouldn’t look at her.

Is he Rick now? 

Yeah. God. The intimacy between them…

They’ve turned this interesting corner since the winter broke up and her anxious grief loosed its hold. The holidays aren’t good for her, but she damn well tried, every single day, to keep that from building back those walls. Therapy twice a week, and then pushing herself to connect with Castle even if it all she could manage was letting him see her true face, smiling or broken, either way.

He’s been rock solid. 

Until this case. She can’t put her finger on it; she can’t tease out the reasons why their parting at the precinct left her on edge, confused.

Okay, a little miserable.

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eggnog < vanilla latte

setting: coffeeshop!au, xmas-themed

central figure: Lee Taeyong

writer’s note: a little bit around 4k (3,834 to be specific) words because I love Taeyong too much if I could I’d write about him forever

In essence: The best gift of all is not making winter drinks, but seeing your favorite regular stop by to order his usual iced Americano 

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

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Tell Me Something That I’ll Forget.

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 11.5K+

Content: Bi!Lashton, polyamory (MFM dynamic), language, graphic content, sexual situations (anal sex, multiple partners, light spanking, orgasm denial, etc.)

A/N: I have returned and it feels so good to be back. This is something that I’ve been working on for quite some time, and it is notably different from what I’ve posted before. I had an idea of Chef Ashton and I’ve always wanted to explore polyamory within the bounds of fanfiction. This is what I came up with after about two months of messing around with it. Have an open mind if this is all new to you. Enjoy. :-)

Feedback is greatly appreciated

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Prince!Luke is from a kingdom on the other side of the world, much lesser known and small enough to be overlooked in your typical world geography class. He’d lived his life with everything handed to him on a silver platter, that is until he is sent to study at an American university, his parents arguing that he “needs to experience the world outside the palace walls” and “gain valuable life skills.” He goes, against his will of course, soon settling into the role of normal college student. (Well, as normal as a college student with a large man shadowing him as an undercover security guard could be.) Actually, he had the school wrapped around his finger. Just because he had to conceal his identity as royalty didn’t mean he’d stop acting like it. In a matter of days, undercover Prince!Luke had students doing his homework, taking notes for him in lectures, and even doing his laundry. All the while, he had a new girl on his arm every Friday night as his date to the biggest fraternity parties on campus. But never the girl he had his sights on. You were in his American literature class, your brilliant mind and natural beauty taking his breath away from the first time you stood to read a passage from Fitzgerald at the front of the lecture hall. But when he’d tried flirting with you, you were completely unimpressed, not falling for his “Prince Charming” act. (Little did you know, it wasn’t exactly an act.) His attempts to woo you wouldn’t cease, extravagant bouquets being sent to your dorm on a daily basis, invitations to dinner at the fancy restaurant just outside of town, and loquacious chat up lines all being rejected - much to his frustration. Until one day he finds you in the library past midnight, your nose buried in some thick text as you rub the fatigue out of your eyes. He leaves only to come back minutes later with two cups of coffee (an extra shot of espresso for you) and sits silently across from you at your table, sliding the caffeine toward you and opening a book to read as you give him a quirk of your brow, watching him skeptically. “Thought you could use a pick me up,” he shrugs when he notices you staring at him with a look of confusion, a small dimple forming beside the corner of his lips when he flashes you a shy grin, and you smile despite yourself. Maybe there was more to this guy than you’d allowed yourself to see, you think as you scrunch your nose and gag when the strong drink finally touches your tongue. (Luke thinks it’s absolutely adorable.) What you didn’t know was that you’d soon find out exactly what more there is to this Luke Hemmings. He’s an actual Prince Charming. What is your life?


Sweetest of Dreams

Late-night television is a gamble. Sometimes there’s not much other than infomercials and outdated reruns of talk shows. Every now and then, she finds something worth watching. This is one of the latter nights, and an old Audrey Hepburn flick is playing on one of the channels. She’s sitting on the couch of her apartment, with a bowl of popcorn and a cup of chamomile tea, settled in to watch Sabrina.

Halfway through, as she is humming along to “Yes! We Have No Bananas” with Audrey and Humphrey Bogart, when her phone rings. Glancing over at it, she sees his name appear on the screen, and scrambles to answer it.

“Spencer? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I – I didn’t think you would pick up,” he says. “Did I wake you?”

It’s nearly three AM, but she doesn’t want to worry him. “Not at all. I was up late finishing something for work. What’s wrong?”

On the other end of the phone, she hears him hesitate. “Just… just a bad dream, that’s all. I thought maybe having somebody to talk to would help, but…”

The television is muted, and she gives him her full attention. “If you want to talk about it, I’m right here. And if you don’t want to, then we can talk about something else.”

Work is a sensitive subject for him, and there are things he keeps from her in order to protect her. If it would make things easier on him, she would gladly hear his every story, but he insists there are some things she doesn’t need to know. “Tobias Hankel,” he says quietly. “That was the nightmare. I was back in that shed, and I couldn’t escape, and I just – it feels so real sometimes.”

The name is one she recognizes, from a case he’s told her only a little bit about. Almost ten years ago he was abducted and held hostage by a delusional serial killer for two days before his team finally found him. Most of the details he left out, but whatever happened in those 48 hours, it has continued to haunt him to this day. “I’m sorry,” she tells him. “What can I do to help you?”

“Just… just talk. Please?”

And so she does. Talks about everything, and nothing. What her day was like, what she’s thinking about, why Life is Beautiful is her favorite movie. Talks until he’s no longer responding, and she can hear only quiet, rhythmic breathing on his end. He’s asleep. Relieved that one of them is resting easier, she hangs up the phone. Spencer needs the sleep, needs to be alert and awake for the demands of his job. The late hours are something she can manage, or at least, she tries to. Characters jump to life onscreen when she unpauses the movie, losing herself in a good film and a lukewarm cup of tea.

In the end, she gets only four hours of sleep. Four isn’t the best, but it’s certainly not the worst. Standing under a cold shower helps to shake some of the fatigue, and a large cup of coffee – two shots of espresso – helps with the rest. In a strange way, her unconventional sleep schedule makes their relationship easier. There is never any adjusting when he’s away for work and calls her at odd hours. It’s easier for her to relate to his exhaustion. And when he needs her most, she’s there. Awake. Ready to listen.

Small victories, she decides. Where there are silver linings, she must seize them. It is not a silver lining, but an opportunity that falls her way that evening however. Spencer asks if he can come over, stay the night. Sometimes it’s harder being at home for him. The same place where after every case he has ended up, processing things alone. Pain, fear, guilt, regret. All those emotions have lived in the same four walls he inhabits.

Her apartment, at times, feels like a sanctuary for him. Full of good things, better things, than his room has housed. Never one to turn down a chance to spend time with him, she assures him it’s perfectly fine if he wants to come over. In truth, she’s all too happy to have him there. Spencer shows up at six, greeting her with a kiss. When his lips are on hers, there’s no need for caffeine. His touch, his very presence, has a way of waking her up.

“I prefer this much more to phone calls,” she says, and he laughs; a wonderful sound.

“There certainly are advantages to in-person interactions.”

“Like this.” She kisses him once more, slowly, savoring the sensation. They are interrupted by the ding of the oven timer. “And dinner.”

“Mm, yes. Both are good.” Spencer can’t cook to save his life, but is always happy when she does. Not that she minds, recipes always make much more than a single person can go through, and she would much rather have someone to share it with.  They eat together, then spend a long while on the couch with tea, just enjoying the time they have together. They catch up, hold hands, steal a few more kisses here and there.

When the sun has long since set over DC, they retire to bed, each a little reluctant, for their own reasons. Having Spencer there is comforting. So close she can hear the sound of his heartbeat when he pulls her to him. Arms strong and warm secure her there, and she lies still until he’s fast asleep. Then, very carefully, she extracts herself from the safety of his embrace. It’s not a matter of wanting to be away from him, so much as it is a desire not to wake him. She would happily stay there, but it’s only ten-thirty. It will be hours before she manages to fall asleep, and she’s got to keep her mind busy until then.

On the nightstand is Les Misérables, beckoning her to finish the last two hundred pages. A quick trip to the kitchen to fetch another mug of tea, the flicking on of a reading light, and she settles for another long night.


He bolts upright, awakened by the sound of his own scream. Pants and gasps for air, trying to slow his breathing and his mile-a-minute-heartbeat. He’s here. Here. Not in Georgia, not in that shack, not in a chair. In DC, in an apartment room, in a bed. But, he realizes, it’s not his own bed.

It’s hers.

“Spence?” Right on cue, she speaks up. Reid rolls over, expecting to see her half-awake, but it’s just the opposite. By the glow of a small book light, she is reading, a novel propped up on her knees. A cup of tea sits on the nightstand, and it looks as though she hasn’t slept at all. The circles under her eyes could rival his.

“What – what are you doing up?” he asks.

She glances over him furtively, like she’s debating the severity of the situation. “Couldn’t sleep,” she answers plainly.

“Do you ever?” The question is at first in jest, but when she bites her lip, several things fall together at once. The tired look in her eyes, her disdain for early mornings, the fact that she always answers his calls, no matter how late. Coffee is her drink of choice all day, but she keeps copious amounts of chamomile tea in her kitchen. Chamomile, best known for being a sleep aid. “You’re an insomniac,” he realizes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N sighs, setting the book aside. Even when exhausted, he can’t help but find her lovely. Moonlight reflects in her eyes as she turns to face him. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. You’ve got enough going on as is. Besides, it’s a common issue, and I’ve dealt with it for a while.”

While 58 percent of the American adult population reported repeated trouble sleeping, it was still a concerning disorder. “Statistically, trouble sleeping can reduce your mortality rate by as much as 16 percent. Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yeah, but nothing seems to help much. With enough time, I’ve adapted. Really, it’s not a big deal. I just didn’t want you to worry about me. What about you? Nightmares again?”

Reid nods. “Tobias Hankel.” The same as all his nightmares lately.

For a moment, she debates whether to ask him another question. Making up her mind, she looks at him with an expression that seems to ask permission. “Why is it always him?”

He wrestles with his thoughts - she hadn’t told him about her insomnia so he wouldn’t worry, but he found himself frustrated that she couldn’t confide in him. The same thing he’s been doing all this time with his own experiences. Only now does he realize how lonely that felt. If she’s going to trust him with things, he needs to show her that he trusts her as well. “Listen, there’s something I’ve never I’ve never told you about that case.”

That gets her attention. She sits up straighter, waiting intently, curiosity plain on her features as he tries to find the right words. This never gets any easier, explaining it to someone. “When I was in that shack, I was… I was beaten, and tortured. When Tobias wasn’t himself, he was really violent. When he would come to, he’d see what had happened. Then he would try to make up for it, make things easier for me. He… he, um…” God, it’s harder than he expected with her. Because he doesn’t have to see her at work everyday, she doesn’t have to stay in his life, unlike his colleagues. But oh how he wants her to stay. This could be thing that scares her off, he knows that. If he doesn’t tell her though, and she finds out, it’ll be far worse. He exhales heavily, trying to rid his body of all doubt; runs his fingers through his hair. Sensing his discomfort, she reaches for his hand, holding tight to him. Giving him a little more courage. “He drugged me, with Dilaudid. It’s almost like heroin, but it’s easier to get. The team found me, but not until after I had to shoot Tobias in order to stay alive. And Dilaudid is incredibly addictive, so after he was dead I… I stole his supply in order to keep using. It almost cost me job, my friends. Everything. But – but I stopped. I haven’t used in nine years, ten months, and fifteen days.”


“I never told you because I didn’t want you to worry about me. I didn’t want to scare you. But I know now that I can trust you with it. I love you, Y/N. You know that, right?”

She wraps her arms around him, holds him close. “Yes. Yes, I do. And I love you to. Thank you for trusting me.” When she pulls away, she reaches for his hand once more. Not quite ready to let go completely. “I know your job isn’t easy. And I know there are things in your past that are hard to talk about. But whatever might keep you up at night, you can call me. Or stay with me. I’ll be awake to listen. I’ll be here.”

Reid realizes what she’s offering - a lifeline. To be there for him, at all hours. While he appreciates it, she needs rest too. No matter how hard it is to find. “How you considered medication to help you sleep?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been able to find one that works. It’s like… it’s like I can’t turn my mind off at night. All these thoughts are running through my head, and I keep tossing and turning, and no matter how hard I try I just can’t seem to fall asleep. It’s been that way for a while.”

Sleep therapy can be expensive, but there are an abundance of home remedies. “What about things like yoga, or a hot bath before bed?”

Accompanying her nod is the sort of weariness that confirms she’s run the gambit of possibilities. “Anything you can think of, I’ve probably tried at one point or another. Nothing seems to work, not for very long at least.”

“What about sleeping with someone?” It’s a last ditch effort to help her in some way.

“What?” She furrows her eyebrows, confused.

Reid shifts, wets his lips as he tries to explain it. “There are studies that show sharing a bed with someone you love can improve overall health and quality of life. The psychological benefits can sometimes carry over into the physical realm. I mean, it’s just one study, but I just thought maybe it could help. To sleep with someone you feel safe with.” She looks at him, waiting for him to continue, and so he takes it as permission to ask. “Do you feel safe with me?”

“Of course,” she answers. Hesitates, then adds, “There’s nobody else I feel safer with than you.”

At that, his heart warms, and he can’t help but smile. She feels safe – no, safest – with him. “Then will you lay with me? It helps me too, being near you. So far, no nightmares.”

It’s true, this is the first time in a while he has slept so soundly. She settles back down with him under the blankets, close enough he can feel the warmth of her body. Briefly he wonders if she enjoys being held by him as much as he enjoys holding her. Somehow, he feels more secure when she’s in his arms. He kisses the top of her head, and they embark upon a potentially mutually beneficial sleeping arrangement.

It helps him, more than he had imagined. For Y/N, there seems to be no change, at least not at first. At night she feels more relaxed though, more content. And then, on the fourth night that he crawls into bed with her, it happens.

She closes her eyes. And falls asleep. As quick and simple as that.

No restlessness. No nightmares.

Only the sweetest of dreams. Only soft breathing and gentle embraces, and mornings spent waking up slow, blissfully wrapped in the presence of each other.

When The Angel Woos The Clay

Written because, like everyone else, I’m totally bummed about the loss of Mary. BUT though I think John behaved like an arsehole, I think his behaviour was very human. Guilt and projection are terrible motivators. I also think- because I’m a born pessimist- that things will get worse before they get better, and that the worseness will look something like this…

Title comes from the Patrick Kavanagh poem, “On Raglan Road.”


It starts small.

A brush against her hand here. A touch to the small of her back there. When she looks at John he’s never looking at her, and at first Molly puts it down to mere oversight. A desire, however unconscious, for human contact, a reaching out for someone who will never reach back now. He’s lost his wife, she reminds herself, he’s abandoned his best friend- John’s having a hard time of it and he has a child to raise.

So Molly, being Molly, says nothing.

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So I decided to do another one of these since I’ve read a quite a few more fics since I made the last one~  I couldn’t bothered to update the other one ok and this one has graphics so it’s better yep

They are in order of ones I read first to last and are split into oneshot and multichapter sections.

Warning: I may not get all of the trigger warnings/nsfw stuff down as I cannot remember them all and I can’t really read all of the fics again, so I’m sorry if I do miss any! Feel free to tell me ones I’ve missed if you know any.

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A Song For You (Minseok)

A/N: Okay so, I had a plot come to my head about Minseok from EXO proposing to you and before I lose the idea, I’m going to put it on here, I hope it isn’t so crappy >_<

The relationship you had with Minseok was something everyone always dreamed of, for a total of 2 long, precious year, you two have been tied together to the point where you both were inseparable. Your first date was nerve racking, a date at the local café, sharing two little cups of espresso and talking more about yourselves to get to know each other.
Next stop was during the sunset, he drove you to the beach and took you for a long, beautiful walk across the warm sand, occasionally walking through the water a few times. It made your nervousness disappear fully as the sun was burning out more and more, you weren’t much of a kisser on the first date but, Minseok thought otherwise.

“Y/N, I want to see you more often, I would be pleased to take you out on dates like these.” Minseok said softly as he stopped to hold both of your hands in his, watching the orangy glow of the sunset reflect off of your porcelain skin, making you look more breathtaking to him. The thought of continuing with these dates with Minseok seemed crazy at first, you thought the relationship would have never worked out since the day you met, but all of your thoughts ended when his large hands cupped under your face, pulling you in for a long, soft kiss as the rest of the sun burned out within the distance. 
Minseok’s kiss was never like any kiss you’ve had before, his movements were slow, passionate, and his lips were smooth and warm as they touched your plump, pink ones. Since then, you’ve considered Kim Minseok to be one of your most important people to you.

The rest of the dates seemed normal after that, once in a while you would dress up nice for him, and he would take you to a fancy restaurant, you would share a glass of wine, tell each other what happened today, and laugh about a lot of stories you told to each other, your relationship with Minseok was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day, week, and soon month.

Your favorite memory of you and Minseok was when it was your birthday, a week before your one year anniversary. You were scared that Minseok was going to forget about your birthday and wait until your anniversary, but Minseok was never that type of guy. In the morning, he made you breakfast in bed, including his homemade coffee, which you loved. In the afternoon, he took you out on a picnic date, and would never stop taking pictures of you, whether it was eating, staring at him, or pretty much doing anything, Minseok always had you on his phone, capturing the most beautiful moments he shared with you that afternoon. When night time came around, that was when Minseok made set up your most memorable birthday present ever, he ordered food from a few different places, venturing from chicken, to Chinese food, to Sushi. He wrapped them up in beautiful little boxes of your favorite design, not forgetting the drinks or deserts, when everything was set, he clapped his hands and turned around yelling, “Jagiya! Come here!”

The thought of Minseok coming up with yet another surprise for you made your heart flutter with excitement, and you were so curious to know what else your boyfriend had planned for you this time. As you raced out of your bedroom, you noticed Minseok carrying the pretty looking boxes into his van and shutting the door, after coming back up, he slipped his coat on and stared at you, his smile never fading.

“Are you hungry?” Minseok asked you in curiosity.
“Starving.” You answer, you too slipping on your coat and shoes.

Your answer made Minseok happy, and where he took you that day was unforgettable. You were parked by the river, the van parked backwards and the backdoor up all the way while a blanket covered the van floor, the food scattered around you both. All you both did was watch the fireworks light up in the sky, and eat dinner, your head on his shoulder, it truly was an amazing birthday.

Minseok did everything for you, made your first time memorable, birthdays with each other were expressed gratefully, anniversaries etc. When you both fought and argued, it always scared you both that one of you were going to leave each other, but you and Minseok were not those kind of people, and always found a way back to each other. Your relationship was truly beautiful.

It was a short while after your two year anniversary, you were out shopping for new clothes while Minseok stayed home, having a day off work, and waiting for you to get home. For the past couple of weeks while you slept, Minseok was writing a special gift for you, and while you were at work, Minseok was out, shopping for something that was going to change your life forever. Minseok had a plan in his head, and after a while of thinking about it, it was finally well thought out, and he was ready to finally surprise you once again.
The gift Minseok had written was finally finished after a few weeks, and all Minseok could do was pace around the room back and forth. You said you were going to be home in a few hours, and the time was almost up. 

Minseok was starting to grow more and more nervous with his planning, questions like, “Will she like it? Did I do this right? What will she say?” ran through his head, constantly biting into his knuckles, he kept thinking about changing his plans, or doing something else in case you wouldn’t like the surprise. However those thoughts Minseok had were erased quickly when you unlocked the door to your house, then stepped inside with an armful of bags. Minseok turned around quickly, then put on a smile and walked toward you.

“Jagiya, what did you buy?” Minseok questioned, taking the time to kiss your cheek as a greeting, you smiled and took off your shoes, setting the bags down on the couch and sighing tiredly.
“Just clothes, new ones, I got you a few things too.” You reply, walking toward Minseok and holding his hand. “Did you miss me too much?” You questioned, noticing sweat beads on his forehead, which made you laugh. Minseok wiped his forehead quickly and shook his head.
“A-Ah! Ani, well, yeah, I mean, agh, Jagiya you know I always miss you.” He whined, his cheeks tinging with embarrassment.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was getting nervous, but you couldn’t figure out why he was so worked up. 
“Oppa, are you okay? You don’t seem yourself.” You question your boyfriend, holding his hands tightly.

Minseok knew he had to do this now, you were home, and he had everything planned out and ready, when you questioned him, Minseok only nodded and pulled you closer. 
“Come with me jagiya, I got something to show you.” He said softly, pulling you off to the room where his piano was, and when Minseok played the piano for you, it was like you fell in love with Minseok all over again. You felt a burst of excitement when Minseok opened the door and you saw the same shiny, black piano that Minseok always played. Minseok smiled as he guided you to the seat and let you sit down. 
“Stay here.” He said quietly, turning on his heel and exiting the room for a moment to grab the sheet music he had written out.

You thought about what Minseok could be doing, was he going to sing for you, play a song for you, did he write the song about you? The possibilities were endless, and you were dying to know what he had planned for you. 
Minseok walked back into the room again, holding the papers in his hands and he set them on the piano, he sat down beside you and opened the piano up. You looked at the sheet music and read the the name of the song, tilting your head slightly.
“My Answer?” You repeat the name, glancing at Minseok slowly, him looking at you with a slow smile, then nodding his head.
“I wrote this song for you, and I would like you to hear it.” Minseok told you in a soft voice as he rested his fingers on the keys, you couldn’t help but smile at his reply and you nodded your head, your heart warming at the thought of the song being about you.

With that, Minseok turned his head and looked at the sheet music, for a moment, he played a short into of the song, then when you thought it couldn’t get better, he began to sing. Your heart swooned at his singing voice, it was a weakness of yours, sometimes it put you to sleep when you had issues sleeping at night. These particular words that Minseok was singing made your smile grow wider and wider with each passing second, the way his voice mixed with the piano made you start to sway back and forth slowly. 

Throughout the song you were listening to, more emotions started to fill you up and you began to get teary-eyed. Knowing the song was about you made you feel more cherished and love than ever before, and it was all only for you. 
Minseok was far into his song he wrote for you, his eyes closed and he swayed his head back and forth as he continued to serenade you, capturing your heart all over again all the way until the end of the song.
Purposely, as he ended the song, he pressed a certain key, which caused it to make a weird noise. At first you were about to compliment the song, but the odd key note, threw you off. You tilted your head and looked at Minseokm who also had the same look on his head.

“Is my key broken?” Minseok questioned himself, standing up and opening the lid to the piano and peeking inside. “Oh, there’s something stuck in there, hold this ope  jagi.” He told you as he began to reach inside. You reacted quickly and stood up on your feet, holding the lid open and trying to get a glimpse at what was stuck in Minseok’s piano.
“Oppa, what’s in there?” You questioned him, moving your head different directions.
“I’m not sure, oh! Wait! I got it!” Minseok replied quickly, beginning to rise up from the inside of the piano. You stepped back when he was all the way out and you closed the piano carefully.

“There we go, huh, this is weird.” Minseok turned around, holding what appeared to be a small velvety object, it was a small velvety red box, in which Minseok knew exactly what it was, and he tried hard not to break out into a wide smile. You looked down at the odd object, studying it for a moment before realizing what it was exactly, and suddenly your heart began to pound in your chest. You rose your head to meet his eyes and they began to tremble, you put your hand up and cupped it over your mouth slowly, questioning if you were really in reality or not.

“Minseok, is this..” You tried to speak, but Minseok simply silenced you by opening the red box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring, shimmering in the light. The smile that Minseok was hiding broke free and he grinned a wide grin, he slowly sank onto the ground, onto one knee, taking your hand in his and holding it tightly.

“Y/N, these two long, precious years you have spent with me have been nothing but amazing memories, we’ve taught each other a lot of things, and never cease to make each other smile. I want you to keep smiling with me for the rest of eternity, Y/N will you do me the honor of marrying me?” Minseok spoke beautiful words to you, causing tears of joy to spill from your eyes, you were at a loss for words for a moment and tried to control your emotions. Once they were calmed down, you held his hand tightly and gave him the biggest smile ever.

“Yes Minseok, I will marry you.” You answered clearly, making him smile so hard, his cheeks were stinging, he took the ring out of the box, and slid it onto your finger. Excitedly, he stood up and lifted you in the air, his strong arms hugging you tightly and he spun you in circles, causing you to squeal with joy. After a while, he set you down, resting his hands on your waist and pressing your foreheads together.
“I will never stop loving you, Y/N.” Minseok said in a breathy tone, placing a kiss on your nose, you returned the kiss with a smile.
“Neither will I, Minseok.” You said softly. “And that song, it was beautiful.” You added, making him grin.

“Good, because that will be our wedding song.” Minseok said softly before pulling you into a long and loving kiss to seal your official engagement.

This is my take on the Inquisition coffee meme.

1. Vivienne, who introduces the Inquisition to the quaint and artisanal coffee shop, would order a traditional, 8 oz, breve, wet cappuccino. ( Of course, there would be a rosetta and heart in the foam art. )
2. Sera would order a shot in the dark with cream. ( Partially for the caffeine, and partially for the name. )
3. The Iron Bull, who normally doesn’t give two shits about fancy drinks, would try to out-do everyone for caffeine, and order a six-shot Americano. ( Later on, he will lean over to the Inquisitor and murmur, “Boooossssss… I can hear colours.” )
4. Blackwall would order a double espresso… and probably hate it.
5. Dorian would order a traditional espresso macchiato. ( Light foam, so as not to disrupt his facial hair. )
6. Cassandra would order a vanilla latte and add cinnamon to the top. And glare at anyone who tries to say anything about it. ( Read: Varric )
7. Varric would order a triple mocha with whipped cream.
8. Cullen would be sweating the entire time in the line and end up ordering a ‘regular’ coffee and add far too much cream… and honey, by accident.
9. Solas would order a raw matcha. No milk. Just hot water with whisked matcha powder. ( Everyone rolls their eyes, except Cole. )
10. Josephine would order espresso con panna. ( For the small, cute cup… and the whipped cream. )
11. Leliana would order two espresso con pannas for herself.
12. Cole would not order coffee, but would instead get a cookie. Probably peanut butter.
13. The Chargers would all order drip coffee and add sugar and cream as needed with the exception of –––
14. Krem… who would be patiently waiting at the back of the line, minding his own business. When he finally gets to the front of the line and can actually SEE the menu, he realizes he can hardly pronounce any of the ridiculous names of drinks and mumbles ( twice, because the cashier can’t hear him ) that he’ll have, “whatever the Chief is having.” Much to his dismay, it tastes utterly disgusting, but he finishes it out of respect… and dignity. 

Serving love with chocolate  

Edit: @shameonme23

Text: @archer-and-lionprince


Balancing a full tray of dirty plates and cups on one hand, Kíli weaves with practiced ease along the tables with a light swing of his hips. It’s short after 5 pm and the steady trickle of customers coming into the café is gradually getting smaller, leaving the brunet waiter more time to clear the tables and to exchange some friendly words with the customers.

“Aragorn, is the order for Mrs. Galadriel ready?” Kíli walks up to the counter, setting the tray down and putting the dishes beside the sink for Sam to wash.

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Come Morning Light - Birthday Event Thread

Bakura yawned, squirming about on the sofa, headset dislodged and hanging off his ears. Reaching up to pull it off, he rubbed at his neck, the warmth from his fingers soothing the aching muscle. Typically, he’d fallen asleep on the couch - when he couldn’t be sure, the last thing he clearly remembered was swearing under his breath at a miniboss that should have been a main boss. Sore, and hair a little tangled, he stretched out leanly, before rolling off the couch.

Two espresso shots, one cup later, Bakura was feeling more like he was awake, and less like he was simply propped up against the counter. Glancing towards the clock on the microwave, Bakura had to laugh, of course it would be late morning. Marik was probably out on an errand, since he hadn’t shoved Bakura bodily off the couch yet.

Speaking of Marik, he’d been a grumpy asshole for awhile, Bakura thought ruefully, face twisting like he’d bitten into something sour. He had no doubts that if Marik had wanted the couch, Bakura would have been upended onto the floor.

Inspecting the fridge, Bakura rolled his eyes at the lack of food. If Marik was out buying groceries, Bakura was going to be stuck on fucking lentils for the week. Lentils, when you could have meat anytime you want, and fresh too. Ryou had been the same way after-all, completely oblivious to the sheer luxury. Modern times didn’t know how good modern times were, obviously.

Rifling in his pockets for his housekeys, Bakura snorted, heading for Marik’s room in search of a ragged, but well-liked and excessively comfortable hoodie. It was here he stopped short, scanning the note pinned to the door. 

In short, it was fuck off. Padded out into “Don’t bother me” which amounted to fuck off anyways.

Wrinkling his nose, Bakura wondered exactly what he’d done this time. He didn’t however wonder long, shrugging it off comfortably. A day didn’t go by without some kind of fight, usually friendly but not always. It was what he liked in Marik, after-all, that bark with plenty of bite to back it up. The challenge of it all was what made it worthwhile. Difficult too given Marik’s uneven, prickly mood as of late, which was probably the source of this new thing. 

Putting it out of his mind, Bakura clambered over the back of the couch, the furniture squeaking in protest. Without his keys, and with Marik pissed he’d probably have to break back into his own home and leaving the door unlocked was unthinkable, they’d get thieves in the place. Unwelcome ones that didn’t belong, anyways. Returning to his game, Bakura reached down to pick up his headset, freezing at a loud crash from Marik’s room

The noise twanged across his nerves, sending him into a flurry of the couch, snagging a knife stuffed in the sidetable by the couch. In his haste he almost grabbed the spare tv remote, but scrabbling back, he flexed the knife in his hand. It felt a little unfamiliar, like a badly used muscle, and Bakura stalked towards Marik’s room, glancing at the note, but ignoring it and kicking his way into the room with a warning snarl.