Coffee Mugs On Blue Bloods นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"I’m going to mix your shots, and you two are going to be having the Blue Blood shots!" I frowned. "What’s a Blue Blood shot?" Sophie laughed. "A Blue Blood shot is a werewolf’s biggest weakness when it comes to alcohol. Werewolf systems are different from humans! We don’t get drunk easily by consuming regular human alcohol." She smirked. "But we do have our own alcohol called the Blue Blood shot. If humans drink it, they’d probably die from alcohol poisoning after just one shot! That’s why this club is called the Blue Bloods. The shots are only given to werewolves, but humans don’t even know about it."

I turn to the nightstand, and there it is. The glass cup. Empty, but it’s all the evidence I need. I pick it up and march toward her, slamming it down hard on the table. “What was in this?” “Water.” “Don’t lie to me.” She eyes the cup, then me. A scowl curls on her lip and she places the brush gently on the dresser. “It. Was. Water.” The words come out through gritted teeth. “What? You think I drugged you? Poisoned you?”

It had been about the kitchen, about the mornings, about the person who had taught him that coffee made correctly was a form of care rather than a form of fuel. He'd poured it into the mug that Elijah had bought him last Christmas—not an expensive mug, not a designer mug, a ceramic mug from a potter in Hudson who made things that looked like they'd been shaped by hands that understood the material. The mug was a deep blue glaze with variations in it, the kind of thing that looked different in different light, and Elijah had chosen it because he'd said "it looks like the way the sky is just before the sun comes all the way up." Alexander had looked at the mug and had understood that he was be

“I have white, black, gray, sage, and one red mug that doesn’t match this house but was given to me by someone I can’t get rid of.” “Red.” Issa lifted her chin. “For trauma.” “What trauma?” Max asked. “Mommy almost used a knife.” “I said it was for a lemon,” I said. “You said ‘lemon or knife,’” Issa reminded me. “Details.” Nathan took out the red mug and set it in front of Issa. “Strong choice.” Issa touched the handle, satisfied. “Thank you.” I stood near the end of the island with a glass of water in my hand. The water was cold. The glass was heavy. I had already drunk half of it, but my throat still felt like I had swallowed a sentence before it got the chance to leave.

I grab a cart before I load everything up and portal to the battlefields. As usual, the people I portal near all jump before their eyes widen, and they rush over to me, a collection of 'Thank you, Luna' echoing through the air. I pour Roman and my dad a cup, knowing they like theirs black like the broody men they are. Then I do the same for Az and Seth, adding cream and sugar to theirs, and then I put some french vanilla creamer in Aston's cup. I'm sure they're all together anyways. I load the cups up in my arms as I follow the pull of the bond. Sure enough, they all stand next to a pile of vampire bodies. I wrinkle my nose but walk up to them anyways.

“Okay, fine. Yes, I am.” Without a warning, I extracted my claws and tore his brown shirt from his torso. He stared at me in shock as I tied the shirt around his injury to stop the blood. “Can you walk?” I stepped back and looked at him. He nodded mutely. “Good, let's go to the clinic.” “You must be the Stella everyone speak about.” He started, limping as he walked beside me. Although I gazed ahead, I kept a watch on him. Blue bloods are exceptionally rare people. They're usually called the direct defendant of the moon goddess and are said to be blessed with gifts. In all regions together, there should be at least 20 of them over a billion werewolves. They were always treated with utmost res

' He said rubbing his slightly haired jaw. Nerves once again took hold of me and made me stand up and fiddle with my fingers nervously. 'Well... Uhmm... I...' i sighed deeply and pinched my nose. 'Fuck. I can't do it this way.' I grabbed the cup of hot chocolate and walked to the kitchen. I poured it empty and walked back to Giovanni who was sitting confused on the couch. I placed the cup in his hands and pointed to the bottom. He looked inside and frowned. 'Grace, what's going on? There's nothing in here.' 'Fucking hell wrong cup.' I muttered. I grabbed the other cup and threw the content in one of the bowls filled with chips. I placed the now good cup in Gio's hands and nervously waited fo

“Ah!” She’s looking quite chipper, a cardboard cup tray dangling from her fingertips in a way that makes me so sure she’s stabbed her nails into the bottom to hold it still. “I was hoping you lot would be up! Coffee?” She plops it down rather unceremoniously. I find myself looking closely as Damon lifts one with his name scrawled on the lid, but it doesn’t seem to have any puncture holes through the bottom. Strange, considering how perfectly she’d sat the thing on the tips of her fingers. I take one. No crows today.

He was the same height as Damien with a pitch-black hair and bright blue eyes, he had the kind of face that could have been on magazine covers or on a Most Wanted poster for the FBI. "It's about time," he muttered, dropping onto the chair next to Lana's. "There's coffee in the pot. Mugs in the cupboard next to the sink. Go ahead and pour yourself some," I said, glancing over my shoulder and offering a smile. "If you take cream, it's in the fridge. Sugar in that little jar on the table." "Thanks." He grabbed a mug, poured the coffee. No cream or sugar. Just black. He obviously needed it as much as Damien seemed to.

“I’ll be alright. There’s some sort of potion in here that’s supposed to get me through until someone comes to pour me into the back of a truck and take me back.” I chuckled. “How are things at Blood Moon?” He nodded. “Good. Homey. David’s…Well, David.” I laughed. “I know what you mean. Have you been eating well? You’re in new clothes again.” “I think Blue is rage shopping,” he said. “Who’s Blue?”