#send caffeine vibes

[jonsaremembers]

My child was awake from 3am to 6:30am and screaming for most of it. Send good vibes.

(But also I stole an Instagram influencer life hack and took a moment after a tough night to do my skincare and it really did help so)

[lady-phasma]

Trying to write today. We'll see how that goes.

[estrel]

the anxiety in me is absolutely raging today

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

first actual in person class of the semester

everyone send good vibes and manifest my day is completely and utterly uneventful

[mcmorare]

pros of eating dark chocolate covered espresso beans this morning:

very yummy

gave me the focus to finish up the last paper i needed for this semester

cons:

i am now caffeinated which means my brain is going to act insane

[deviousdayz]

It tears me apart that I can’t have coffee or monster anymore man

[iamterra]

The day long and my attention span short

[luvxiem]

i felt the college struggle 😔😔 currently in my senior year doing career planning post graduation in the spring and I wanna expire 😔 you got this tho!!! ganba sol!! (・`ω´・ ●)

CAREER PLANNINF 😭😭😭😭 i gotta do that next term and just thinking about it.. we can expire together 😍😍🤣🤣🤣☝️☝️💯💯

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

my brain also works like this, examples

That is the wrong color of sound

Hmmmmmmm……sociopathy…….

can I have some violence? As a treat?

I’ve got that dawg in me…….but the dog is poor and just wants love……

There’s not enough disco at my panic…..

I am not on enough drugs to deal with this

if I was rich and mentally well it would be over for all y’all.

l’uomo mangia la mela

*blink 182* blonk

Random things the voice in my head has said while zoning out:

I shall flip the bread, yes. *bonks head on table* it's my constitutional right

I might think of blueberries while murdering someone haha no surprise

*imitates guitar sounds* teau teau teau

The world is not my oyster

I shall ponder the abstract questions of life as my brain decomposes into a melancholic mess

[ichorai]

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; october 26th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; nanami shows up to work smelling like you, and gojo has quite a keen sense of smell.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; more domestic vibes, nanami's Tired guys someone give him a vacation

series masterlist.

26th october, 2016

Nanami was having a long morning. Granted, the clock hadn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but he was already feeling particularly exhausted. 

Possible reasons included, but were not limited to: the local bakery he usually went to for breakfast was out of his favorite kind of almond croissants, the vending machine that held his precious coffee outside of the school was out of order, forcing him to go forgo caffeine for the day, Principal Yaga informed him of an influx of village curses he needed to take care of since the school was currently short-handed on staff, and, finally, Gojo would just not stop pestering him. 

The lanky, white-haired colleague of Nanami’s started off by sending roughly a dozen memes about a trendy topic he really had no interest in whatsoever. Then, when Gojo realized that Nanami had muted his messages when he no longer kept responding with: “Stop sending me these during work hours”, he took it upon himself to barge into his office and languidly splay himself across the couch situated opposite his desk and chair. 

Perhaps the only saving grace of this morning, Nanami recalled, was waking up next to you—a sight he’d been blessed with for over a year now. You were still asleep when his alarm buzzed, though you mumbled something groggy and unintelligible under your breath. Knowing that you had a tiring day yesterday, your husband let you sleep for another five minutes while he slipped out from beneath the comforters to wash up. When he returned, you had curled up on his side of the bed, nose smothered into his pillow to inhale his scent. Nanami’s hand reached out to brush stray hairs away from your face, still slackened with sleepiness, but your eyes were cracked open into narrow slits.

“Hey, honey,” he whispered, voice soft as ever. “We’ve got work soon. Do you want me to drop you off?”

You worked at a local university quite close to home. Though curses weren’t particularly attracted to you, what with your easy-going and admiringly-positive demeanor, where you worked was a breeding ground for negative emotions. Stressed students and impatient professors always had universities crawling with curses of all sorts. Nanami never liked the idea of you working in such an environment.

“I think I’ll call in sick today,” you mumbled back, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard with a lethargic wince. “I have a terrible headache… I think I might be coming down with a cold. I’ve just got to reschedule today’s lecture with the students for another day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, brows kinking with worry as he moved to sit down next to you. “Do you need me to pick up anything for you from the pharmacy?”

“I’ll be okay,” you told him in a reassuring manner. A bright, but tired smile made its way onto your face when the back of his hand rested over your forehead to feel your temperature. He frowned in concern and pulled away—you were much warmer than usual. 

Then, he dipped forward to press a chaste, but loving kiss right over your temple. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll make you some tea.”

“You should be getting to work, Kento—”

He made a dismissive noise, and got up to go fix you the warm drink, squeezing in some honey and lemon in case you had a sore throat, too. A few minutes later, he came back with the steaming mug, and a pack of unopened paracetamol he fetched from the kitchen drawers. 

“Take one now, and another by lunchtime if you’re still feeling unwell,” he told you, his sharp features displaying nothing but raw concern. 

“Yes, doc,” you said with a slight laugh and a salute. “I’ll be okay, honey, really. It’s just a little cold, but thank you for the tea. Now you go and get ready for work.”

Kento pursed his lips, kissed your head again, and rose from your side to go change into his professional attire. Even after all this time, he could feel a warm flush settling over his cheeks when you whistled in appreciation from the bed, clutching the mug of tea in between your palms with a grin. 

“You look so handsome, Kento.” 

“It’s the same thing I always wear.”

“My point stands,” you said, voice rife with mirth. He shot you a soft, appreciative smile.

In his haste to get ready and rush off to work, he accidentally spritzed himself with your perfume rather than his usual cologne. He didn’t mind all that much, anyway, because that meant he’d be able to smell you all day long, and hurried to gather the rest of his things. 

“I love you, please send me a message if you need anything,” he said just as he was about to leave, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw. 

“I will,” you reassured, one hand lifting away from the mug to take hold of his palm and tug the appendage upwards so you could kiss the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse. “Have a good day at work, hon.”

God, he loved you more than anything. 

Now, with Nanami’s mind both burdened with thoughts of you being sick, and stressed over the new wave of village curses Yaga asked him to take care of, he hadn’t even noticed Gojo suddenly right at his side rather than ridiculously spreading out over the office’s couch.

“Ooh, Nanamin,” he said the fond nickname in a crude, high-pitched tone, and over-exaggerated sniffing at Nanami’s suit, “Who is this I’m smelling on you? Are you seeing someone behind my back?”

Nanami’s left eye twitched behind his spectacles. It was a relatively easy choice he made not to tell anyone at work about you. He very much preferred to keep work and personal life separate. 

“It’s my new perfume,” Nanami bluntly said, expression remaining unamused. 

“I didn’t take you for a floral-note kind of man,” Gojo crooned in response with a roguish grin. If he thought that Nanami was lying at all, he betrayed no signs of such. “I love it! What brand is it? Where’d you get it?”

“Get out of my office, Gojo.”

The blind-folded man snickered and rubbed his hands together. Nanami’s evident irritation only seemed to egg him on. “Didn’t Yaga tell you? I’m coming with you today! Apparently there’s been reports of a special-grade curse there. You’re going to need my help, you know.” Gojo prodded at Nanami’s biceps.

Nanami’s lips pinched tightly. “Perfect,” he gritted out. 

It was only nine in the morning, but he already couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

[ugh-yoongi]

For your Yoongi drabbles - reader has a crush and talks about “him” constantly, but Yoongi doesn’t know it’s him until someone else spills readers secret.

this was so cute, thank you for requesting! sorry for the giant meme, but it is literally the exact vibe of this so i had to use it.

loose lips

pairing: yoongi x f. reader genre: friends to lovers, miscommunication (??), fluff warnings: swearing, drinking, namjoon namjooning, unedited rating: e for everyone! there's nothing bad in here wordcount: 1k

it's bee's birthday! send me yoongi requests and/or fic recs!

Min Yoongi is a lot of things.

He’s meticulous and prone to overwork and also lazy and uninspired. He’s chronically over-caffeinated and always half-asleep. He’s the first to blow off plans and the first to pout when he no longer gets invited. He’s brusque and a bit of a bastard but also pleased to be fussed over and taken care of. The kind of person who needs to be wrangled into physical affection, because he just can’t seem to verbalize his desire for it.

Min Yoongi is a lot of things, but he is not, under any circumstances, prone to gossip.

Jung Hoseok, on the other hand, has no such hangups.

Which presents Yoongi with an interesting dilemma. He has to piss, but he has to pass the kitchen to get to the bathroom. And Yoongi is a lot of things and not one of them is prone to gossiping or eavesdropping, but it’s hard to push aside the intrigue of you and Hoseok speaking in hushed whispers in his own kitchen, heads pressed together like conjoined twins.

It looks like a whole lot of conspiring is going on. He refuses to pout.

“You seriously haven’t told him yet?” Hoseok says, and Yoongi can just make it out, but he’s known Hoseok long enough to register the exasperation in his voice. God knows he’s been on the receiving end of it more often than not.

You groan. Probably shoot Hoseok an exasperated look of your own that Yoongi isn’t privy to. “It’s not that easy.”

“It absolutely is that easy. How hard is it to say—”

“Can you shut up?” you whisper-shriek. “You are so annoying—”

“—Hey, I have feelings for you. Would you wanna grab coffee?”

Yoongi is pouting before he even realizes his face has contorted. Sure, he can be jealous. Someone will always be a better musician, have more money, live in a nicer apartment and drive a nicer car and wear nicer clothes. Now, though… someone out there can have you, and that thought tastes sour in his mouth.

It’d been Jimin’s idea to come to Itaewon.

At least they’re at the bar with the good whisky, because Yoongi will max out his credit cards to escape the hell in which he’s found himself. It’d been bad enough with Hoseok, but now he has to deal with it from Taehyung and Jimin, too.

Do you think she’ll ever tell him? This is getting painful.

I don’t know. Hey, are you going to eat the rest of your fries?

Are you fucking serious? Of course I am, I bought them for me—

It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid, because everyone seems to be in on a secret he isn’t, but he looks across the bar and finds it hard to care. There you are, laughing wildly as Hoseok twirls you around on the dancefloor. All the lights in this place combined can’t outshine you—not on your worst day, but especially not when you’re like this.

So. Yoongi’s pouting again, plush bottom lip jutting out far enough to brush against his glass of whisky. He’d finally given up and splurged on something top shelf. Figured it’d get him to where he needs to go faster than anything else, because Yoongi is a lot of things and a dancer isn’t one of them, so he’s doomed to spend the night at this table, sandwiched between Taehyung and Jimin.

Listening to them drone on and on about the guy you’re interested in.

He wonders what he’s like. How the two of you met. He pointedly does not think about whether or not this guy’s a dancer, a musician, if he can always afford top-shelf whisky. He wonders if you’re gonna make Yoongi meet him. If he’s gonna have to play nice and pretend to think this guy is cool and interesting. He can pretend, he thinks.

If it’s important to you, Yoongi can do anything.

Namjoon will know what to do, because Namjoon never actually knows what to do about anything and still somehow always arrives at the correct answer.

“Why am I here, hyung?”

Yoongi clears his throat. Spears another piece of beef and puts it on Namjoon’s plate like a peace offering. Orders another round of beers even though he hasn’t touched his first. “Uh,” comes his eloquent response. “Well—”

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon mutters, face-planting onto the table. “This is worse than I thought.”

Min Yoongi is a lot of things, but if he’s worse than Namjoon thought, he’s in deep shit.

“Um—”

Namjoon picks his head up. Studies Yoongi for a minute, clearly looking for something, before he pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “It’s you, hyung. She’s hung up on you. And I shouldn’t even be telling you this, because we all just assumed both of you would eventually remove your heads from your asses and get it together, but fuck, this is painful. I can’t do this anymore, you know? I’m not your feelings friend. Jimin is your feelings friend, but he said you just sulked the entire night at the bar—”

“I didn’t sulk,” Yoongi argues, but the words are spoken around a pout.

All he receives in return is A Look. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Yoongi is a lot of things.

Today, he’s a coward, which is new.

He’s not usually a coward, it’s just… he knows how to be jealous and how to sulk and pout and not get what he wants. Those things are easy. But he has no idea how to deal with the bomb Namjoon had dropped on him. He’s not even sure it’s the truth. What if Namjoon was just fucking with him to get him to stop sulking? That’s absolutely something Namjoon would do because he’s done it before.

He sighs. Stops to catch his breath because you live on the sixth floor in a building with no working elevator and he doesn’t work out, so he’s really going to be pissed if Namjoon lied.

“Yoongi? What’re you doing here?”

His heart really does stop this time, because there you are, fresh-faced and smiling and a little confused, and Yoongi knows his face is splotchy and red and that his hairline is sweaty. “Yeah, hi,” he says, and it comes out like an immensely displeased grunt. Doesn’t sound at all like he’s happy to see you, and—oh. Yeah. He can understand now why you might’ve been hesitant to say something.

“Sorry, I just—these steps, you know?”

“Yeah, they said the elevator’s finally getting fixed next week.”

“Thank fuck.”

Your brows knit together. “You planning on coming by more often?”

Yoongi is a lot of things, but right now he’s impatient. So he closes the distance between you in record time and says, “Yeah. Listen, Namjoon told me this guy you and Hobi have been talking about is actually me—”

“That duplicitous snake—”

“—and I’ve kind of been losing my mind over it, because I feel the same way, so if it’s true I’d really like to kiss you, but I’m not entirely sure Namjoon wasn’t just fucking with me—”

“Oh, like that time he told you he’d seen your rejection letter from SNU just so you’d stop stressing over whether or not you got in and that you’d be even more excited once you did, in fact, get in?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Namjoon is a bastard. You should kiss me, though.”

Min Yoongi is a lot of things.

As he presses his lips to yours—soft, soft, soft—more than anything else, he’s happy.

[badwritinghabit]

Wins and Losses | Chef Luca x Reader

A sort of prequel to Hello and Goodbye

No warnings for this one! Just cute flirty coworker vibes.

Summary: Luca helps you survive in a new kitchen and then takes you out to celebrate your recent success.

Word count: 1,859

Day two at Ever. 

Your first day started off well, Chef Terry had welcomed you and introduced you to all of the staff. Everyone seemed friendly and you were eager to get started. 

But you were nervous. And it showed. 

Your hands shook throughout prep. Carmen Berzatto, the chef that had started training you, was stern and intense. He wasn’t going to be training you for long, thankfully. He was taking over for someone who was out for the day. 

Your first day ended with Carmen sending you to clean, seemingly sending you out of everyone’s way. You were scared they’d fire you before you got a chance to really prove yourself. 

Your second day would be better. You got a half-caf coffee on your way, hoping less caffeine would make you less jittery. You knew you were good. You could do all of this in your sleep. You just needed to focus. You took a deep breath and walked in. 

Charles, another line chef who had been there for over a month greeted you with a smile. “Went to Forward? That’s my favorite coffee spot too.” 

You responded with a grin. “I’m still figuring out the area, good to know I picked the right one.” 

He eagerly responded with some recommendations and you felt relieved, at least not everyone was angry with you. 

You were assigned pea duty. You had to split the pea pods, leaving all of the peas on one half of the pod as a garnish for a gazpacho dish. It should have been easy, you’d shelled plenty of peas. And you’d always been skilled at intricate knifework. You liked small details and making things pretty. But the nerves had come back the second you felt Carmen watching over your shoulder. Your hand shook but you kept your head down and did the work. You slipped the tip of the knife into the seam, carefully sliced down without cutting any of the peas inside, twisted it around, and continued to cut a clean line down the other side. 

“Good. But pick up the pace,” Carmen said brusquely before stepping away. You did as he said. 

He kept coming by, counting, comparing you to the other line chefs. Your hands kept shaking, your nerves fraying. 

You were skilled. You knew what you were doing. You wiped away some sweat from your brow with your sleeve and then kept going. 

Slice, twist, set down. Only a few left. 

Carmen walked by again. “Faster!” 

“Yes, chef.” You kept working as he walked off. Only 9 more to go. 

8 more. 

Your thumb slipped a fraction of a centimeter and a pea rolled out of the pod and onto the floor. You set the pod down shakily, feeling tears build behind your eyes. 

You bent and picked up the pea that rolled away. As you stood, grabbing the ruined pod to put to the side, you heard someone ask, “do you know what we call a pea that fell on the ground?”

The voice was light but your heart was pounding too fast, anxiety spiking at being caught. “What?” you asked, tense, still feeling panicky from your mistake and unsure who this new person was. You turned to look at him and had to look up. He was tall, dressed in the same white uniform and apron as the rest of the team. To your surprise, a kind smile was on his lips. 

“An escapee.” 

You blinked. 

“Escape-pea,” he repeated, his smile getting the tiniest bit wider. 

You exhaled a small, shaky laugh, realizing he was joking. Your shoulders slumped in relief. 

“I’m Luca. Sorry I wasn’t here for your first day. But I’ve heard you are off to a good start.” You shot him a slightly suspicious look and he grinned. “You’re doing fine, really.” 

“You should have finished this by now,” Carmen interrupted, walking over. “We have more to prep.” 

“Give us another minute, we’ll be done soon,” Luca responded calmly. Something in his calmness gave you confidence so you grabbed another pea pod and got back to work. 

“Thanks,” you said to him, quietly, glancing over. 

“Any time,” he responded, grabbing one of the pods and helping you finish. 

And he meant it. He became your rock, buffering you from Carmen, teaching you but also interrupting your panicking with soft words and little jokes. You had never met anyone quite as warm and genuine. 

You’d developed a tiny crush. But you tried to put it out of your mind. He was – while not your boss exactly– still a sort of mentor. Your coworker at the very least. And dating in the kitchen was a well known bad decision. Besides, he was so kind and talented, you figured he must be in a relationship. Even though he never spoke of anyone. 

You kept reminding yourself he was too important for you to risk losing. He was a fantastic mentor. You’d learned more with him in three weeks than the year and a half you’d spent at your last job. 

His mentorship had helped. You’d had a dish accepted as part of a temporary menu. Chef Terry had all of the chefs, of every level, submit a dish and yours had been picked. Luca had cheered, seeming even more excited than you were. Then he cajoled you into going to the bar with him after work. To celebrate. 

He had lifted you in a hug as soon as you left the kitchen and you laughed along with him. He talked excitedly about your dish as you walked to the bar. 

“Just you two?” the bartender asked. You usually went with a small crew from the restaurant once or twice a week. 

“Just us today,” Luca agreed before regaling the bartender with your accomplishment. And then he ordered your favorite drink for you before you could ask. You blushed and fiddled with the little foam coaster nervously. You met Luca’s eyes and smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The bar was loud, you usually avoided Friday nights to not have to deal with the commotion. But you appreciated it that night. Luca sat close to you, the warm smell of his laundry detergent reaching your nose as he leaned closer to speak into your ear. He’d reached an arm around the back of your chair and his thumb had started stroking up and down your arm. Your brain had slowed, your thoughts brought back to the gentle drag of his warm hand against you. You fought off a shiver and blinked up at him, realizing you missed a question. You forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. 

He smiled when you asked him to repeat himself but before he could, you jumped as you felt arms wrap around you from behind. 

“I thought we’d find you here!” Kit said, pulling back from the hug and sitting in the seat next to you. Charles followed after him, claiming the last seat at the table.  

“You two disappeared before I could ask where we were going to celebrate,” Kit continued as he took off his jacket and smiled at the bartender who walked up to take their orders. 

“We never go out on Fridays,” you say to defend yourself. “It was a little sudden.”

He hummed with a smile. “Well we need to do a toast at least. You won!”

“I’m really surprised to be honest. Your soup was so good. The sweetness with the spice. I wanted a bucket full,” you complimented Kit. 

Kit laughed and Charles rolled his eyes. “I haven’t heard a single comment about my dish.”

“Because it tasted like ass.” 

Charles shoved him and the two broke out into laughter. You laughed along but looked back to Luca, realizing his arm had left the back of the chair. The temperature seemed to drop with the realization. He was facing away, looking behind the bar. You took a moment to admire his profile, the arch of his eyebrow, the ridge of his nose, his lips. You blinked and inched your foot forward, kicking his foot gently. He turned to look at you and you smiled, rolling your eyes teasingly and nodding towards your new companions. His smile returned. 

Charles produced a pack of cards and you groaned but were convinced to join. The distraction from Luca was probably good as well, you told yourself. It was too easy to lean into him when he was close. To hope for more when his arm was wrapped around you.

Poker was a good diversion. 

The night ended after a few hands of poker. You were tired. You’d spent most of the night before anxiously making and re-making your dish. You bemoaned your lack of sleep and after you finished your drink, you hopped off the stool. Luca stood as well, saying he’d walk you home. He’d started doing that at the very beginning of your groups' nights out, even though you lived just next door. It was sweet. 

He was sweet. 

He stood at the bottom of your stoop as you climbed one step and then turned back with a small smile. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you said, quietly. “It meant a lot.”

“Your dish deserved to be chosen. You made the best food today.” His decisive compliment warmed your heart. You smiled. 

“You helped me. I’ve only improved so much because of you.” 

“I’m glad you think I’ve helped. But today was all you.” His voice seemed to get lower. The stair put you at almost the same height so you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He seemed to freeze for a second but then responded, his arms coming around your waist and holding you to him. 

“Thank you,” you murmured into his shoulder. 

“No more thanking me.” He pulled away with his familiar grin. His hands still gripped your shoulders. “It’s my job.”

Something about that reminder felt heavy in your stomach. You forced a smile. He seemed to realize something was off and quickly added, “I don’t spend time with you because of work though. We’re friends too.” 

“Yeah, friends!” The tension was still there and you jumped in to break it. “I’m just tired. I should head up,” you pointed your thumb behind you and stepped up another step. 

He nodded, hands sliding into his pockets and shifting on his feet. “Good night,” he said. Your name a soft ending to the sentence, always sounding warm in his accent.

“Good night, Luca,” you said with a short wave, before turning and closing the door behind you. 

“You absolute prat,” Luca muttered to himself, heel of his hand pressed to his brow. He took out his phone as he walked towards his apartment and clicked open his messages, scrolling to your thread. Your picture was one he took with both of you sitting outside the restaurant. You were holding one of his desserts, half-eaten, and smiling for the camera. He opened the text chain, staring at it, debating. Then he sighed and closed it.

He would see you tomorrow.

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

draft count: 12

pre bed draft goal: 4

:)))) i can do this i am not eepy yet i can do it

[dolls-self-ships]

How I think the HH crew takes their coffee

Lucifer orders the most complicated, sugary, step specific drink you could imagine. He is hated by baristas everywhere. Also gets so excited when ordering he changes it at least 3 times halfway through explaining it. Probably gets something different everytime too. He is a regular with no usual. Charlie canonically likes frappaccinos! Like her dad, I can see her having similar tastes, sugar, but also wanting to keep it simple so that she doesn't overwhelm the employees (she's too considerate for her own good). Orders straight from the menu exactly how it is with no alterations, is also the one who probably walks in with a list of orders for her friends, goes as slow as possible for the cashiers sake. Angeldust rolls up to the drivethrough hung over and orders something iced- probably a caramel drink and he asks for it to specifically be drowned in caramel, and an extra shot. Either that or a vanilla iced latte. Vaggie is not a huge fan of coffee, she gets a tea or tea latte instead. Earl grey is her favourite and she likes a lot of milk. Alastor loves a nice extra hot black coffee. He wants that bitch scolding and bitter. Doesn't even drink it, just splashes it in his face. Where that would normally give someone 3rd degree burns, it gives him some 'extra pep' in the morning, as he puts it (god he's a fucking freak) Husk takes his coffee black also, but instead will spike it with his own bourbon he keeps in a flask. Will sometimes get cream and sugar if he's feeling, as he puts it , 'fancy' (bro is so low maintenance) Nifty isn't allowed to have caffeine for obvious reasons Sir Pentious is another non-coffee drinker but drinks exclusively tea. Is a bit of a snob about it too. Needs the leaves to be fresh or he WILL be able to taste the burntness. His favourite is peppermint. Would rather die than bother the barista to remake it though so he normally brews his own with his own needlessly complicated tea making invention of course.  Cherri bomb loooooves caffine, but isn't much of a coffee drinker. More of a monster energy and redbull kinda gal. She needs something she can drink fast and hard. Don't even get me started on those 5 hour energy drinks. Oh boy. Don't let her near them (she will kill u for one) Vox is an avid coffee drinker. Practically lives off of it and can't get through the day without (it's a problem). Definately has one of those 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee' mugs bc he's an asshole. Drinks like 5-6 cups in a single day. Send help. Velvette gets a coffee once in the morning and then one in the afternoon. Pulls up to the cash register with her sunglasses on and outfit for the day put together, intimidating buisness lady vibes off the charts while she orders between phone calls. Also definately shushes the barista of they try to ask her any questions, can't you see she's on the phone? Her order is LONG and COMPLICATED and she needs it made the way she likes to a T, she also talks fast and no she will NOT repeat herself so you better be a fast writer. Probably gets something vanilla flavoured with 3 shots of espresso in it. Valentino isn't a coffee guy but if he needs it for a long shoot or late night he gets either an Americano or pure espresso shots. No time to waste with the frills and fancy stuff despite the look of him. Also will throw the cup at the barista if the shots come out burnt or expired.

[regencyrosalie]

Hey there! <3 I really loved the way you write about modern! Anthony and I was wondering on maybe doing something with Benedict?

I was thinking always a modern one, either a xreader or maybe dating! headcanons!

in that case, thanks in anticipation and have a good day/night!!🩷🌸

hi hon ! thank you so much for sending an ask ! im going to structure this like i did for my anthony hc’s, i hope thats okay! im working on a fic rn that’ll be out hopefully soon!

biblically accurate modern!benedict hcs

- benedict WILL draw you

- he will draw quick little silly sketches of you in funny outfits and hats with exaggerated eyes and show them to you while giggling relentlessly

- but he also has an entire sketchbook filled with accurate and detailed drawings/paintings of you. he gets bashful every time you find a new one.

- may or may not have a caffeine addiction

- when you move in with him he moves his little art corner to a different room so you can still sleep while he works

- will get frustrated and come back into the bedroom and watch you sleep until he gets motivated/inspired again

- he loves dogs, specifically small dogs. chihuahuas are probably his favorite but he wont tell anyone.

- his sleep schedule is HORRIBLE, but it evens out when you live together because he wants to fall asleep with you.

- speaking of, i feel like Benedict is a human heater

- which is amazing during the winter

- but when it’s hot it is actually torture because hes trying to fall asleep practically on top of you.

- and youre like PLEASE get the FHUCK off of me and then he pouts and huffs until you make it work or he falls asleep

- benedict is close with every one of his siblings. but especially anthony and eloise.

- has funny uncle vibes

- especially with the younger siblings. he will sneak them candy and also probably money.

- anthony and violet have yet to find out

- i think he probably likes savory foods more than sweets, but will eat anything you make him.

- i feel like hes fully clothed about 50% of the time. the man despises pants i can just feel it in my bones.

- favorite color is red. he likes the versatility.

- cannot sing. but will sing. and will sing loudly. every shower is a concert.

- probably the closest with his mother

- love language is quality time

- this means picnic dates, movie dates, target run dates, going to the grocery store dates

- will make you handwritten cards and paintings for holidays, and puts sticky notes with sappy notes and bad pickup lines on everything you own.

- other than visual art, i think he has a few other hobbies. he likes movies, in fact, he pretty much likes every movie he watches. cant get into shows though, his attention span is not long enough. he also likes puzzles, and will frame them and keep them hoarded in his closet.

- i think a part of him is still grieving his father. violet was in constant agony after he died, and anthony was busy inheriting everything and dealing with the trauma of witnessing it: so benedict was left to pick up the pieces with the rest of the siblings. ie. explain what happened to the younger ones, try to cheer them up, etc.

- for that reason, i don’t think he ever really processed it completely, and he gets weirdly quiet when he thinks about it too long.

- cant be in anthony’s office for more than an hour at a time, because it used to be edmunds, and all he can think of is how he would pester his father all day while he worked.

[thedroneranger]

Sending Vibes

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Précis: Near or far, Bob will send you vibes wherever you are.

Note: The Bob Fucks agenda is a like a drug. I got one bump and needed another. This is a companion to Vibe Check but can also be read on its own. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit.

Word count: 1.6k

A frown downturned your lips, and your arms slipped from under the blankets to the pillows above your head. A deep sigh left your body as you thought about how much better your solo session would be if it weren’t solo.

You rarely masturbated alone. Hell, you rarely masturbated at all, because you finally landed the flyboy you had your eyes on all this time: Bob Floyd. 

In the months since Bob stumbled upon you pleasuring yourself in your bunk and decided to help out, you two fucked like rabbits. You had managed to find every nook unseen by a camera on base, and you both knew each others’ homes like the back of your hands. In both houses, there wasn’t a surface you hadn’t fornicated on.

Although you and Bob had yet to define the relationship, it was obvious to the two of you that you were only seeing each other. It was also obvious no one else was going to do it for you quite like each other.

All the sessions between the sheets led you to spending more nights and mornings together. At some point, you’d learned Bob was quite the coffee connoisseur. Part of his morning routine included coffee from his favorite cafe a few blocks from his house. 

At first, he would sneak out of bed for a coffee run, returning to wake you with a freshly brewed cup. Now you would join him, sitting together outside the cafe in the late morning before it was too hot to be outside. You had forewarned Bob your palate hadn’t expanded beyond burnt coffee and sugary lattes from coffee chains. Each time, in earnest, he would explain a feature of coffee: caffeine level, intensity, roast. It made your chest tight to listen to him nerd out.

For the past few weeks, your sexcapades and domestic routine had been on hold. Bob had been summoned to a naval base across the country to help prepare pilots for a classified mission.

So far, Bob’s absence didn’t just make your heart grow fonder, it also made your core ache. One of the reasons you and Bob were compatible is you were both always ready to go. You were perpetually wet, and one look from you had Bob pitching a tent.

Without Bob physically present, you had been spending evenings in your bed or his—someone had to water his plants while he was away—with your favorite toys. Since Bob was on another base across the country and not tucked away on a carrier somewhere in the middle of an ocean, you would trade steamy texts, photos and the occasional after dark video call.

Laying in Bob’s bed, wearing only his Academy t-shirt, you were basking in the glow of your first orgasm. Already gearing up for another, you scrolled through the audio erotica app you loved so much that you bought a subscription. Your toys were bluetooth compatible with the app, which added another trick to your bag to keep you busy.

Of course, an app update became available while you were browsing, so you took a couple minutes to let it complete. A pop-up took over your screen when you reopened the app. As you read it, your lips pulled into a smile.

Bob could now control your vibrator from anywhere.

Your mind was already racing, deciding how you wanted to introduce the new feature to him. Fortunately, you had already sent a few pictures, which led to a promise for him to video call you later. 

The idea of Bob manning your vibrator while you had phone sex had you squeezing your thighs together. Your wand was the perfect choice. Making sure it was connected to the app, you tapped around until you secured the share code. 

Kneeling on the bed, knees wide, you held the wand at your naked apex and snapped a photo. Happy with the result, you added the app code and a message, You're in control, before pressing send.

In less than 15 minutes, Bob’s contact photo of him sporting a cappuccino mustache lit up your phone. You bit your lip as you accepted the call. He didn’t even give you time to greet him. “You’ve been teasing me all day, and you’re giving me control of your vibrator? You’re playing with fire, darlin’.”

A smile crossed your lips. “Burn me, Bobby,” you challenged him. You didn’t even have the chance to vocalize your next thought as the vibrator you’d left in your lap buzzed.

“I don’t have much time before someone comes looking for me,” Bob explained. “Now, I want you to slide your pretty pussy along that wand like you do to me when you’re being a cock tease. Prop up the phone so I can see all of you.” 

Bob moved his phone so you could see him, sitting on the edge of his bunk. His t-shirt off and flight suit pushed around his knees. Free hand fisting his hard-on. Pre-cum already oozing.

You froze for a minute, your mouth slightly open. “Close your mouth, darlin’.” Bob brought you back to the moment, bringing the phone back to his face. “Now, do as I say. I want to see you come before I have to hang up.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you responded with a smirk. Bob felt his whole being vibrate at your words. See, Bobby would never admit it, but he absolutely got off on being called lieutenant when he was ordering you around. 

He watched as you set the phone in a place that gave him a wide angle view. Then, you placed yourself in the middle of the bed with your wand between your legs so the head was pressed against you.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Bob cooed as he watched you and pumped his length, swiping his thumb over the head. He positioned his phone so you also had a full view of him.

Without warning, he turned on the vibrator, which made you jump. You glared at him while he threw a smirk at you. Hands on your thighs, you found a rhythm that had your lips parted and barely audible gasps of pleasure spilling out. Bob was showering you with praise, and you noticed his hips falling into pace with yours.

In one smooth motion, you flipped Bob’s shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked. Although you weren’t close enough to see, you knew Bob’s irises were nearly eclipsing his pupils. Hell, neither of you thought it possible, but he was sure he felt his dick stiffen more at the sight of you.

A salacious moan escaped you when Bob changed the vibration pattern. Fortunately, you were able to take it in stride, tilting your head back, closing your eyes and moving your hands to knead your breasts. “Bobby.” His name was long, drawn out as it left your lips.

“C’mon, darlin’. Come for me.” Bob’s voice was low and restrained—he was absolutely holding himself back from finishing. 

“Bobby, I need you.” You paused. “I need your help.” Your voice was whiny, pleading for attention you already had. Your gaze caught his as you leaned toward the phone, still rocking against the vibrator.

Bob picked up his phone, so his face filled the screen. “Lay back, darlin’. I want to see all of you.” Soothed by his voice, you settled into the pillows, awaiting his next instruction. “Now press the wand to yourself.” Again, you followed his direction. “Don’t move it.” Your hips jerked when he upped the speed of the wand without warning. “Don’t move it,” he repeated. “Let me do the work.”

With that, you let your eyes close and your head relax into the pillows. Bob’s voice filled your ears as your entire body began to come to a boil. Your breath shortened and your abdomen tightened. Finally, you peaked. 

Seconds later, you heard Bob’s breathing pattern change as he also finished. You looked at the phone to find him laying back on his bunk with cum pooling on his stomach. “Mhmm, I wish I could clean you up.” You picked up your phone to get a better look at him.

He grabbed his phone and brought it closer to his face. “I wish I could be inside you. So warm, velvety…” he trailed off.

“Bobby.” Warning heavy in your tone. “If you don’t stop, you’re gonna have to find another 15 minutes right now.” His crooked grin appeared. 

For a moment, you just sat in silence, in each other’s virtual presence. Bob was the first to speak. “Well, darlin’, I should get cleaned up.” You looked him in the eyes. “Glad we have a new toy to play with.” His smile reappeared. 

“Me, too,” you added. “I’ll leave it connected so you can keep sending vibes.” You winked at him. Bob’s smile grew impossibly larger. With one final goodbye, you ended the call. 

Sitting in his bed, you were startled when your wand vibrated, and then your phone. On your phone, Bob’s name was there with a new message: Just a quick vibe check. You laughed recalling the first time you had used a vibrator together. 

Hopping out of bed, you replied to Bob. As you shuffled to the kitchen to get a drink and feed yourself, you browsed the web for a welcome back gift. A bluetooth-enabled vibrating cockring seemed like it could be well received. You pondered it for less than a minute before adding it to your cart and purchasing. 

A perfect way to keep the vibes going.

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