#Writing this down so I can remember for later

[akawifeyy]

LEMONADE | fic (DR3)

description: as much as he would miss the high-stakes lifestyle of formula 1, daniel ricciardo is ready to start fresh. and the perfect start seems to be in his hometown, where a little girl is running a lemonade stand.

tropes: meet-cute, happy ending, lemonade stand au!, single mum!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: mature content (!!), swearing

| note: i love dr3 soooo much y'all, i hope i did him justice 🫶

It all started with the lemonade stand.

A young girl, probably five or six years old, with curly brown braids tied up in pink ribbons, was standing by its side. She stood at attention like a miniature soldier, her eyes watching the street for potential customers.

The hand-painted sign swinging from the top read "Leia's Lemonade Stand" in blocky yellow writing, and a giant beaker of the refreshment was perched on the counter.

Daniel was intrigued. He patted his pockets, looking for any spare change, and found a wad of bills. "Hey," he greeted the little girl, who looked up at him with owlishly large eyes. "I'd like to buy some lemonade? One glass, please."

She beamed, dashing behind the counter to hand him a cool glass filled with sugary yellow liquid. "That'll be two dollars!"

"Here you go," Daniel said, counting out the money and leaving her some extra change, handing it to her. "Thank you for your service."

As Daniel was turning to leave, you walked up to the girl, who was your carbon copy, just a decade or two younger. You were her mother, Daniel assumed. "What do we say, Leia?" you asked, a proud smile evident on your face.

"Thank you and you're welcome!" Leia chirped.

Daniel took a sip of the cool refreshment, sighing in contentment. "This is delicious stuff. Did she make it herself?" he asked you.

"I helped out a bit, but most of this was done herself."

He outstretched his hand. "I'm Daniel."

"Y/N," you replied, taking it. "I haven't seen you around before. Did you just move here?"

Daniel shook his head, trying to formulate an answer. "I just moved back from, uh...out of the country."

"Oh?" you inquired. "I'm jealous, I've never lived outside of Perth. My parents were born here, I was born here, and now Leia was born here. It's tradition, I guess."

He laughed. "Perth is a nice place. The rest of the world is overrated."

"At least you've experienced it," you griped.

Daniel huffed out a breath, reminiscing on his years of fast-paced travel. City after city, country after country. He never stayed in one place for long. "Yeah, I suppose so. Have you really never been outside of Perth?"

You lowered your head, self-conscious. "I mean, I've visited Melbourne for a weekend girl's trip, but my life has been pretty busy ever since I had Leia. And her father...doesn't help out."

Daniel's attention sparked at the mention of Leia's father. "Is he around?"

You twisted your lips in consternation. "He's alive, but he skipped town shortly after Leia was born. Said he was destined for greater things, or some shitty statement like that. I don't remember, and frankly, I do not care. Leia and I get on just fine."

Daniel grinned. "I can tell." He set the glass back down on the counter, and Leia picked it up, putting it under the stand to be washed and cleaned later. "Thanks for the lemonade. Keep up the good work, hm?" he said to her, and she gave him two enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"I'll see you around?" you asked, hopefully in a casual tone.

Daniel nodded, giving you a cheesy wink. "Of course."

Two days later

The doorbell rung half past noon, and you checked the peephole to see who was there. Daniel. He was shifting nervously, wringing his hands out. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" you greeted him, stepping aside so he could enter the house.

"I was wondering if I could get another glass of the lemonade? Leia's done an amazing job with it."

You sighed sorrowfully. "We're all out, sorry. Leia has just started school again, so we haven't continued the business. Maybe we'll make some more during the weekend?"

Daniel pouted. "That blows. I've been looking for a way to talk to you again."

"Sorry." You shrugged one shoulder, and then you realized what Daniel had said. "Pardon me, what did you say?"

Daniel's eyes widened, his face reddening with embarrassment. "Uh, I was hoping to chat with you a bit? If that's alright? I don't want to intrude."

You shook your head, leading him into the living room. A variety of Leia's toys were scattered about, and you bent down to pick them up and move them out of the way. "It's OK, don't worry. My job's remote, so I don't have to leave or anything. Not until two, when Leia comes home from school."

"Great," Daniel said, sitting down on the couch beside you. "I've been bored out of my mind since I've come back to Perth."

You swallowed, not exactly sure of how to respond. "Yeah? Is your past haunting you or something?"

Daniel chuckled. "Not exactly. I'm just used to a lot of hustle-and-bustle, and Perth...isn't really delivering on that."

"Where did you work?" you asked.

He fidgeted with his hands. "Er...I used to be a Formula One driver. I know, wild, but yeah. DR3." He laughed again, but this time it was dry and full of resentment.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Formula One? My sister's obsessed with it. Wow, that's really cool."

"Yeah, it is. But they moved on to better talent, and now I'm back here." He slouched down, avoiding your gaze.

You gently nudged his shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you've returned and that we've met."

He gave you a wan half-smile.

For another hour, you two chatted away, talking about your past, about Leia, and about your hobbies. You told him about your Star Wars obsession (aka the reason why you'd chosen the name Leia for your daughter), showing him the vintage R2D2 toy you kept on your bookshelf. In return, he told you about how he used to go fishing with his parents in Lake Monger and about some of his F1 exploits.

Eventually, the alarm you set to keep track of when to pick Leia up went off, marking the end of your conversation. "I've got to go," you apologized.

"It's no problem." Daniel waved a hand, brushing you off. "Here's my number in case you want to keep in touch?" He wrote it down on a piece of paper and handed it to you.

"Thanks," you said, flustered.

"See you around, Y/N," he said as he stepped out the front door.

Text messages between Daniel and Y/N (Takes place a week to two months after their first meeting)

Sydney, Australia (Two months later)

"Come on, Leia," you urged your daughter as you led her through a thick crowd of people in the airport. "Don't let go of my hand."

Daniel was in front, leading you towards the exit, where a glossy crimson Ferrari was parked. "Here we go." He opened the door for you, sliding beside you and helping to buckle Leia in.

You smiled at him. "Thanks so much for inviting us."

"No problem, darling."

The pet name sent a curl of heat through your core, and you looked out the window so you wouldn't have to respond. The view was stunning: metallic skyscrapers, a bustling city center. You couldn't believe that this was what you were missing out on your whole life.

About twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of a sleek modern hotel. You saw Daniel's mum wave at you, and swallowed roughly. You prayed that she would like you.

"Leia, be nice," you chastised her before you disembarked from the car. "Use your manners."

Leia bobbed her head up and down. "I know, Mum."

When you walked over, Daniel's mum immediately struck up a conversation with you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I'm Grace!" she introduced herself. "And this must be little Leia." She bent down to shake Leia's hand. "You look just like her."

"Thanks," you replied. "It's nice to meet you."

Grace put her hand on her heart. "Danny's told me all about you. I'm happy to see that you're exactly as I hoped."

Your gaze whipped to Daniel, who turned even redder. One more shade, and he could pass for a bearded tomato. "Really?"

"Yep!" Grace clapped Daniel on the back. "He loves you."

You blinked, but didn't blurt anything out. "We should probably head inside."

Daniel nodded fervently. "I agree."

That night

"You want to explain to me what your mum told me?" you probed Daniel, crossing your arms over your chest.

Daniel covered his face with his hands. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry. She's not a good secret keeper."

"Are you saying that she was lying?"

His eyes peeked out from behind his palms. "Do you want me to say no?"

"Tell me the truth," you scolded.

Daniel sighed and took a step closer to you. "She wasn't. Ever since I saw you at that lemonade stand, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. You're funny, and strong, and independent. I want to prove to you that I won't be like the other one. I'm here to stay."

Without a second's worth of hesitation, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him down to your height, and kissed him. He moaned softly, his arms snaking around your waist and caging you against the wall. "Fuck, Y/N."

The kiss became more passionate as you tangled your fingers in Daniel's brown curls, and his own found the swell of your breasts underneath your shirt. "You're so perfect," he murmured softly. "Can I?"

You nodded, at a loss for words. Daniel lifted your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy pink bra you were wearing. "Fuck, I'm going to come in my pants like a schoolboy right now. My God, you're a fucking work of art."

You unbuttoned his shirt and loosened the waistband of his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Daniel picked you up, placing you on the bed. "The door's locked," he assured you when you opened your mouth. "If we're quiet, Leia won't know anything."

"Good," you whispered. "I don't want to traumatize her."

He laughed, and kissed you again on the collarbone. Carefully, he placed your hands above your head and said, "I want to have sex with you. Is that OK?"

"You don't have to ask, Daniel," you rasped.

Daniel shook his head. "Yes, I do. Consent is not a laughing matter, darling."

You expelled a breath in faux-annoyance, and he continued his mission. One slow thrust, and he was in you, filling your pussy and making you groan with pleasure. "Daniel..."

"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly. "I'll go slower."

You twisted your head to look at him. "No, it's fine. Just...not used to this. It's been a while."

He pecked you on the forehead, his arms caressing the curves of your skin. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

He drove into you, the movements firm and sure. Soon, you felt the tidal wave of pleasure build up in you like an insistent hum. "Daniel, I'm going to..." you trailed off, the sentence ending with another moan.

Daniel kissed you on the temple, the touch exactly what you needed to tumble over the edge. "Let go for me, darling."

And so you did, the orgasm rippling over you and making you shudder with satisfaction.

He pulled out a moment later, his own orgasm succeeding yours, and he flopped down beside you, one arm wresting you closer to him. "You're stunning."

"When I'm all fucked out?" you teased.

Daniel played with a loose strand of your hair, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yep."

"You're so silly, Daniel," you poked fun at him, tapping his nose twice.

He flicked your nose, and stated the very obvious fact, "But you adore me."

Three weeks later

Daniel clutched the bouquet of tulips in his hand, suddenly nervous. It wasn't the first time he had taken you out on a date. Hell, it wasn't even the second time. Yet each and every time, he was terrified.

You were perfect.

And he was...he was Daniel, the former F1 driver for four teams.

"Thanks for picking me up," you told him as he ushered you to his car. "I really appreciate it."

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. "No problem, darling."

You sat down, and then readjusted your position, feeling something poking your back. It was a box.

"Not a ring," he promised when he saw your expression. "I wouldn't have you accidentally sit on your engagement ring, darling."

You scowled at him, but popped open the top. A beautiful ruby necklace gleamed up at you, and you let out a gasp.

"It's my mother's. She wanted you to have it," Daniel told you.

"Wow, Daniel. This is...breath-taking." You hugged him.

"Just like you," he flirted, and you rolled your eyes. "It's the truth."

You extricated the necklace from the box and clipped it around your neck. "How does it look?"

"Perfect." He kissed you on the lips, one hand nestled on the crook of your jaw. "And all mine."

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[starconstruction]

Ok!! I would love to see something with Choerry!! I can suggest tags I would particularly love, but plot I would have to brainstorm 😅

Tags: Heavy impregnation(!!!!!!!!), belly bulge, squirting&multiple orgasms, deepthroating, nipppleplay/breasfeeding, thighjobs/feet. I saw you like yandere. Maybe some heavy jealousy?

Literally anything you’d like !!

Plot suggestions are here just cause I’d feel bad just asking for a member and you doing all the heavy creative writing (but please do anything you’d like with it if you have an idea you want!!): coworker lip makes choerry jealous, forcing her to make m!reader remember who she belongs to.

Or maybe she tags along with? Anything you desire!! Hope to read it someday!

Thanks

Jealous Loving Partner

Yandere Choerry x Male Reader (Smut)

Smut Tags: Impregnation, multiple orgasms (both people), foot worship, foot job, feet kink, deepthroating, edging, belly bulge, squirting, creampie, riding, nipple sucking.

Crazy first ask, thank you for submitting! I hope it is up to your standards, I only feel a bit of shame.

WC: 2046

not proof read

The monotous clicking of your keyboard resonated through the sterile office, scents of an overabundance of old paper, laying anywhere and everywhere there was space, on the tables, on the floor, in cabinets. The intense workload was stressing you beyond relief. You were one of the only few employees left at this ungodly hour, it paid extraordinary amounts of money, but 80 hour work weeks has their toll on your body.

You sipped on your coffee, the comforting taste of dirt filled your mouth. It was disgusting however it gave you vital energy. Only one more hour and you can finally go home to your loving partner, Choerry. You two had been together for a little over 4 years, she was quite intense. Only a penny drop away at any moment, her messages frequently popped up. She could message you 10-20 times an hour and would get sad if you didn't respond to every single one. But apart from being a bit obsessive she was perfect.

You were engrossed in your work, ignoring the bright bursts of light that radiated from your phone, desperate to finish those projects that haunted you, a gentle hand pressed against your shoulder, distracting you from your goals. It was your coworker, you knew very little about her. Her brown hair laid flush on her shoulder, she was wearing a grey cardigan, shoulders exposed as she looked at your computer.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. Y/N right?" She said, voice quiet as she got your attention.

"Yeah, what do you need?" You replied, pulling away from your desk to give her your full attention.

"I have an issue with my computer, I'm on graveyard shift so I cant call someone else later, you're really my only hope." She looked down at the ground, giving a pleading smile.

"Sure I'll help"

-

What you hoped would be a small few minute job ended up being an entire hour long venture, the computer locked her with violence and aggression. Kim Lip, she said her name was. Her conversation was light as you two sprung words between each other, leaving work to the side as you fought tooth and nail to get this working.

Your shift was over, you being able to finally get out this office for the next few hours. "Alright Kim Lip, I'm out for the night." Slinging your bag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave when she stopped you. "I'll walk with you" she said. Coming behind you as you two left the building.

Your jaw dropped, Choerry was waiting for you outside. Staring daggers into you and Kim Lip, her feet digging into the ground, stomping as she dragged you away from her. "Piss off" she barked, venom spitting out of her words. Kim Lip looked at you in confusion as you got put into the passengers seat of the car.

Choerry opened the driver's seat as she clambered in, the air filled with tension. You watched in fear as she turned on the car. The music cranked all the way up, her face was an unreadable anger. Not sparing you a glance as you two sat in painful silence. You were in for it the second you got home.

--

Choerry pressed you into the wall of your shared bedroom, her body resting against you as she pulled your clothes off, fabric teared as she grabbed your shirt with reckless abandon. Buttons popped out as her hand gripped your chest, squeezing and groping every part of your torso. "Who the fuck was that?!" she growled, her teeth biting into your neck as you gasped in pain. "Are you fucking cheating on me with that whore?!" she continued.

"What? Choerry she's my co-worker." You said, trying to soothe her unrelenting anger. Choerry's biting got even sharper, blood drawing on everywhere her teeth dug into. "I don't fucking believe you!" Her hands playing with your pants as she shoved them down with your underwear in one fell swoop.

Her hand roughly stroked your cock, aggressively going up and down with no care for your pleasure. "Bet you wish it was her? She looked pretty maybe you wish it was her!" Choerry shouted, pumping her hand on your dick. Pained gasps left your mouth as she showed no signs of slowing down. "Choerry I-" She cut you off. "Shut up! You will take what I give!"

Her eyes stared up at you, intense orbs of anger. Her lips brushed against your tip, taking you into her awaiting mouth as she bopped up and down, licking your dick from the tip to the base, her blonde hair fired everywhere as she kept sucking, heavenly sensations shot over your cock, your hands desperately grabbing onto the wall. Fearing what would happen if you dare touched her.

Choerry's lips pressed against your crotch, breathing in your scent as your cock laid jammed in her mouth, drool formulated all over you as it started to overflow, dripping out the corners of her lips, landing on your balls as she held you there, your dick fully wrapped in Choerry's mouth.

She finally pulled away, giving you a second of respite from the luxury of her mouth. Her anger still fully visible, you were in the eye of the storm. Her hands braced you as she thrusted you into her mouth once more. Much rougher than before, gagging all over your length, vibrations pulsing on your tip, her head game was divine. You felt your orgasm on the verge of the horizon. "Choerry darling I'm going to cum!" as soon as those words left your mouth, her mouth withdrew. The sensation of being edged burned, leaving a painful singe in her absence.

You couldn't begin to complain as your body was thrown onto the bed. Bouncing against the mattress as your body landed in the middle, Choerry approached the bed, swaying her hips as she got to the edge. She looked so hot, a beacon of danger and desire. Her hand reached into her bed compartment, pulling out a gleaming pair of handcuffs. Trapping you against the bed.

"Baby, you need to make up for your cheating." Her hand ran up and down your chest, goosebumps coated your body as you shuddered.

"I didn't chea-" A strong force came down on your face. "I said no talking!" Her actions brought fear to you, Choerry has always seemed possessive but this was so out there. You swallowed your saliva as she took off the lower half of her clothes, throwing them everywhere and anywhere.

She sat down on your legs, crushing them slightly as she Choerry's feet pressed up against your nose, the intense stench of sweat filled your nostrils, her soles rubbed against your lips, the salty taste of sweat lingered on your mouth as she kept playing with your mouth. "Clean them off, show me how much you love me" She beamed a terrifying smile as your tongue went up and down, tasting more of her sweat as you lapped her feet clean.

Choerry jammed her foot into your awaiting mouth, swirling your tongue around her toes, wiping the dirt away as you gave her what she wanted. The loss of power intoxicated you as you took every action, her other foot trailed your body, finding it's way to your shaft. Still rock hard and throbbing as she grinded her foot all over it. Muffled gasps combined with gags as her foot pressed against the back of your mouth.

Her foot rubbed you violently, the sensation too much to handle as she got off on your misery, your loving partner turning into a demon in the bedroom. Choerry's foot withdrew from the depths of your mouth, saliva dripping on your chest as you caught your breath. "Good boy! You are being so good." She wrapped both her feet around your length, working harmoniously as she grinned, the feeling of her soles was soft and undeniably perfect. Bucking your hips under the pressure of Choerry's nonstop actions, the familiar feeling of the orgasm trying to come out yet again, her feet rubbed your balls and you felt seconds from unloading.

"No. You don't have the right." Her voice laced with a thick venom as she channeled her inner sadism, feet withdrawn as she got off your legs. You whined when she left the room, forcing you to lay there and contemplate your feelings. She was back promptly, the rest of her clothes removed. Holding something in her hands.

"You see these?" Her hand revealed a set of pills. You gulped. "That's right honey.. My birth control, I don't think we need them anymore. You'd agree right?" Panic seized your body as she stared at you, awaiting the correct answer. Your throat went dry as you thought about all the consequences of every possible answer. She wasn't just speaking from the loving woman she was usually, coming from a deep wish to have you by any means necessary.

"I'm waiting." She spoke bluntly, getting clearly frustrated as she stood there, this wasn't logical, wasn't normal. But deep down you wanted to take the next step with her. "Yes. Choerry. My love, let's go further." She smiled sweetly, throwing those pills into the wall as she approached.

Choerry straddled your body, right above your shaft as it pointed against her cunt, rubbing against her, getting the tip wet in her essence. A deep breath came from her mouth as her body lowered into yours. Her walls clamped down on you, the first inch being tortuous as she started to sink down, the sensation was overwhelming. Loud gutteral moans came from your lips as Choerry started screaming, "Fuck... My love! Your dick is so good, I love you!" she gasped, bouncing up and down violently as the bed shook. "I love you!"

Her fingers dug into your chest, leaving red marks as you met her halfway, skin slapping as your crotches connected. You knew you weren't going to last very long after her precious edging. She could sense your closeness as you thrusted more irregularly, "That's right baby, make me a mommy! Cum in me!" She let out a satisfied moan as you shot your load into her pussy, giving her the present she wanted. "Hmmm that feels good.. Your cum is so warm.." Her body gasped, she kept bouncing despite your sensitivity. Pain erupted all over your body for the 5th time today.

"Choerry please.. Slow down" Your voice was pained as you laboured to speak, it seemed to only spur her on as she kept bouncing, even stronger as she started gripping on you even more intensely. "Fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum baby!" She shouted as your shaft fucked your cum further into her. Large amounts of her liquid shot over your shared bed as she came undone.

She held herself there as she let you relax, no thoughts were in your head as you breathed in the shared scent of sweat and sex, your hands laid on your bed as Choerry smiled at you. "I think you can go another round yeah? Really make sure I get pregnant" You really couldn't go another round, but her smile was so disarming. Nodding as she started picking up the pace. You ignored the burning sensation in your loins as she moaned.

Choerry leaned forward, holding you up as she brought her breasts to your mouth, "Suck on my nipples baby, imagine how full they'll be when you knock me up." Her voice was glazed over as you took her left boob into your mouth, sucking on her bountiful bosom, her skin slightly sweet to the taste as she arched her back. "Fuckk keep sucking, right there." Her hands pressed into the back of your head, clinging onto strands of your hair.

Your orgasm hit like a tsunami as you shot another load into her awaiting body, biting her nipple as you doused it in saliva. Your orgasm triggered a chain reaction, another douse of her squirt hit the bed. She removed your hungry mouth from her breasts, smiling. Her stomach was bulging with your load, completely stuffing her.

"You are mine, completely now baby. No more co-workers."

She was batshit insane, but she was yours, and you were hers.

[flowery-mess]

Gentle moments with Noah (because I had a dream with him and he was cuddly and gentle):

When he cups your cheeks with both of his hands, gently strokes his thumbs along your skin and looks at you with eyes full of love

Then he leans down to kiss your forehead

When he goes to bad later than you so you're already sleeping when he enters the bedroom. He lays down behind you, wraps his arms around you and and kisses your head

And in the morning when you're both up and you're straddling his lap, he like to lay you down on his chest, tuck your head under his chin and wrap his arms around you. He locks you in that position until he's satisfied with morning cuddles and can start his day

When you're doing something in the kitchen and he sits you on the counter, stands between your legs and you two start kissing. But like not steamy makeout kissing, but gentle kisses, even pecks once in a while, rubbing your noses, smiling into the kisses

I know none of this is new or something that hasn't been written about Noah, but I needed to write it down aftwr I woke up lol

Also in the dream Noah told me about the V.A.N music video that she was supposed to be patient in his lab, but can't remember why those scenes didn't make the video, so sorry I can't clarify it for you!😂

[crowleysgirl56]

Just to go back to @meatballlady’s first reblog for a second regarding the reason for season 2, I actually wrote a theory about that early last year right after Prime confirmed S3 had been green lit. I think the reason for S2 being what it is comes down to how a sequel to the original book was planned. I can’t quite remember what the exact wording of the story for the green lit S3 was now, but it went something along the lines of “The second coming is approaching, there are only two people who can stop it, Crowley and Aziraphale, and they’re not talking”. My theory is this is exactly what the sequel novel’s plot was going to be.

Firstly, we obviously know they’re not taking because of what happened in the final 15. But what if that was the actual premise of the sequel novel? The second coming approaches, only Aziraphale and Crowley can stop it, but they’re not talking.

Secondly, we know the sequel to the book probably had to do with the second coming, because that’s just the obvious next step after the anti-Christ turns up (as per biblical doctrine). Crowley even says “the Big One” in relation to a war between Heaven and Hell. What would be bigger than the second coming of Jesus?

Putting all this together, my theory is something occurred unseen between the two novels that caused Aziraphale and Crowley to fight and stop talking. What that something was, whether it would get revealed slowly in the book via flashbacks, or revealed later during exposition, or maybe not referenced at all and perhaps they just make up instead, I guess we’ll never know.

But as a narrative for a television series, that probably wouldn’t have worked. So season 2 was written literally to give the audience a backstory to why Crowley and Aziraphale aren’t talking when the second coming happens. I don’t think trying to add why they weren’t talking would have worked if they were also trying to tell the story of the second coming at the same time.

Whether that narrative worked seems to be a bit of a debate. I think everyone (including myself) became so obsessed with Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship and the excellent flashback sequences, and then traumatised by the final 15 and the cliffhanger ending, we’ve not really critically looked at how plain and simple the rest of the story was. Like, it was fine, but it didn’t have that bombastic narrative like the first story. There didn’t seem to be any urgency to the matter. S1 you had the end of the world approaching and the desperate search for the anti-Christ. S2 was merely the mystery around why Gabriel’s memory was wiped, and maybe something bad could possibly be happening. So I can understand why people found it unsatisfying.

I do think S3 will be a lot better (even if it is only 90 minutes), but I think because we will definitely be able to focus in on the narrative of the second coming and the romance between Crowley and Aziraphale.

Anyway that’s my completely rambling thoughts, hope they made sense!

Also @maaikeatthefullmoon you’re Imposter Syndrome on AO3?! Hello! I read Epistolary back when you first wrote it! Excellent work. I’m sorry you feel like you won’t be able to write planned story, it sounds very interesting.

Who else is in the ‘they are speaking - mind-to-mind’ theory camp?

I’ve had to accept that I’m not going to have time to write the fanfic I have all planned out in my mind. Not if I want to Write Seriously™️ and be a functioning human.

I don’t even have the time to write a long-arse meta like I’d love to. I’d love to spend a whole day just delving into my thoughts but…not gonna happen. As it is I’ve got about 10 minutes until someone gets home and I’ll be expected to do useful things.

So.

I think Aziraphale taught Crowley a useful magic trick in 1941. Our Part 3. Which we see during The Kiss in the Final 15 - when Crowley passes something to Az. What does he pass? Dunno. But it’s got something to do with this new communication ability.

This isn’t Crowley realising his feelings. They have both known their feelings for long enough. This is him realising he needs to put plans into action. Spurred by Nina’s words, and other things. They’ve been too conspicuous. It’s too dangerous. He needs to protect his angel.

All of this - a lot of acting for those listening in, but probably also anger and devastation at Crowley for putting into action the emergency plan without Az’s consent? But rather than being angry, I think this “I forgive you” is genuinely meant. Az knows Crowley saw no other way out for them. I think there’s a degree of bodily autonomy this plan takes away, but Az wants him to know that’s ok. He forgives him.

And that means more than “I love you” to me.

So while Crowley drives, he’s (oooh, is it breaking the law? Is it like talking on the phone?? Demon!) talking to his angel. I believe, telling him he’ll be taking his place as the Grand Duke of Hell. Ready to fuck shit up.

As we have Aziraphale (and Michael Sheen, master of microexpressions) joining in the planning.

Ready to fuck shit up.

And so we have our players manoeuvred into place. Head of Staff of Heaven & Hell. Ostensibly.

Not speaking. Verbally.

But mentally…that’s a different story.

[lightsoutmatthews]

We listen and we don´t judge - Mitch Marner

summary: you convince Mitch to do the "we listen and we don´t judge" TikTok trend

pairing: Mitch Marner x female!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none, just banter and sweetness

authors notes:

I wanted to wait to post the next thing, as to not run out of stuff by next week but I remembered this exists and that it´s one of my favorite pieces so I just had to share

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“Please baby… It´s fun, I promise!” you begged your boyfriend for the third time in probably 30 minutes. “Babe…” He sighs playfully annoyed. “Please, I know you have some stuff to say, this is your chance to say it.”

You had been trying to convince him to do the “we listen, and we don’t judge” trend from TikTok after you had been seeing it all over your for you page. Even though you usually weren’t really one to post your relationship on you TikTok.

Your account was more about “day in the life of an NHL girlfriend” or “get ready with me for my boyfriends hockey game” videos which the small following you had acquired loved, Mitch only showing up in the background occasionally, but this was something you really wanted to do with him.

“I´m bad at coming up with tings on the spot.” He tried as his next excuse. You rolled your eyes. “We both know that is not true.” A funny sounding scuff leaving his mouth, almost like he was offended by the accusation.

“How about we film it, but you can decide after if I post it?” A last attempt to convince him, not wanting to bother him with it for too long. A sigh left him again and you knew you got him on the hook. “Fine. But you have to give me five minutes to come up with a few things.”

You practically ran around the kitchen island and wrapped your arms around his neck in excitement. “You´re the best.” He rolled his eyes acting fake annoyed but placed a sweet kiss to your cheek.

He retrieved to the living room with his phone to write some stuff down while you searched for the perfect place to film. Zeus, ever the loyal dog, stayed by your side, his tail wiggling in excitement for no reason at all. “We´ve got dad wrapped around our fingers and paws, Zeusy.” The lab barked in agreement.

“I heard that.” Mitch shouted from the living room. “You were supposed to!” You shot back immediately. Laughter filling the air shortly after.

A few minutes later you followed Mitch into the living room, Zeus hot on your heels but immediately jumping next to his dad when he saw him sitting on the couch. “Oh, now I´m good enough for you.” He chuckled and softly petted the labs head.

“Are you done?” He nodded. You placed your phone against a vase you grabbed from the kitchen and put it on the living room table. “Is this angle good enough for you?” Mitch huffed, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You knew he had nothing to really truly complain about, your relationship one built on trust and open communication, when something was bothering either of you, you mostly just talked about it, but this showed you there was something up his sleeve that you didn’t know about.

“Are you ready?” He grabbed his phone, opening the notes app again. “Let´s go.”

You pressed record on the device and held back laughter when Mitch looked at you with the most serious expression. “You go first.” You said, curious about what he came up with.

“We listen and we don’t judge, sometimes when I tell you I didn’t answer your call because I didn’t see it, it´s actually because I ignored it because I didn’t want to answer it in front of the guys.” Your eyes widen in surprise, laughter immediately bubbling out of you. “How dare you.” You threw in between two breaths, still laughing.

“You´re scared to answer the phone in front of the guys, that´s so sweet, honey.” You leaned over and softly patted his cheek, knowing this clip would be sent to the girls group chat later so they could show it to their partners.

“You´re not the one getting chirped.” He mumbled which led to another fit of laughter bubbling up. “You´re acting like you´re the only person on the team with a partner.”

He rolled his eyes and waved you off. “I thought this was we listen, and we don´t judge. Let´s hear yours.”

“We listen and we don’t judge, one time I threw away one of Zeus favorite toys, because it was really past it´s living time, and told you he probably lost it.” He ripped open his eyes and grabbed his chest like he just had been shot right in the heart.

“How can you do this to our child.”

“We don’t judge, Mitchy.” He raised his eyebrows, silently accusing you of doing the exact same just a few minutes ago.

“Okay your turn again.” You rushed out before he could say anything else. “We listen and we don’t judge, you once asked me to do laundry while you were on a girls trip, and I had to call Aryne to tell me what temperature and program to use.”

“Oh my god, Mitch.” You clapped your hands over your mouth. He chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I´m giving you a crash course on our washing machine as soon as we´re finished here, I can’t believe this.” You almost shouted before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Let´s hear your next one then.” He interrupted you, not wanting to talk about this any longer. “We listen and we don’t judge.” You said, holding your hands in front of your mouth, before whispering: “Sometimes I cheer for the Flames when you´re not here.”

Mitch ripped open his mouth and turned further towards you with wide eyes. “Baby… please tell me that is a joke…” When you said nothing, he looked even more offended. “You cannot put this on the internet… what will the people say if my own girlfriend doesn’t root for the team I am playing for. That should be a punishable offence.”

“We don’t judge, remember? And what can I say, I will always be a Calgarian at heart no matter if I’m living in Toronto now. Or if my boyfriend plays for the Leafs. And it´s not like I´m rooting for them when they actually play you.”

He continued to look at you as if you had kicked his dog. “You´ll live, baby.” You said as you pat his cheek like he was a child that was upset about nothing.

“Okay, last one I could come up with in the five minutes you gave me.” He grabbed one of the decorative pillows and placed it in front of him like a shield. You raised your eyebrows at him but said nothing urging him to continue.

“We listen and we don’t judge. I use your face wash regularly and that´s why it´s always empty so much faster.” He gripped the pillow and held it in front of his face right as you swatted him in the shoulder with the back of your hand.

“Mitch, that´s expensive skincare, you can afford to buy your own.” Teasing was clear in your voice. It didn’t actually matter to you that he was using it. Especially, since most of the time he ended up being the one to pay for it. But acting fake outraged was fun. “I will go and buy you skincare for men next week when you´re on the road.”

He lowered the pillow again, hoping you were done attacking him, but you ripped it right out of his hand and smacked it into his face. The offended look on his face that waited for you when the pillow fell down on the soft carpet of your living room made you burst out in a loud belly laugh.

“You´re the worst. I´m breaking up with you.” He pouted, his voice making you laugh even harder. “Okay, it was nice knowing you. I´m taking Zeus.” You teased. Which made him pout even more.

It took you five minutes to calm down after that, whenever you remembered the look on his face you broke out in another set of giggles.

You would have to edit that out later but would keep as a memory because the pained look that slowly turned into an incredibly loving and soft glance as you kept laughing was something you wanted to keep forever.

“Okay I have one last one. When you´re done pouting.” He sat up straight, giving you his full attention again before you continued. “We listen and we don’t judge, sometimes, when you play on the West Coast, I go to bed before the game even starts because I´m so exhausted from work.”

You expected him to be fake outraged again, but he just looked at you with the sweetest expression you could imagine, you heart immediately melting. “That´s okay, honey. I know how exhausting your job can be.”

You were overwhelmed with the sweetness this man gave you sometimes. “Oh, Mitch.” You said quietly scooting closer to him to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“What? Did you expect me to be outraged about that? I know how hard you work, there´s 82 games a season that you can watch, missing one is not the end of the world.” He placed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

The tender action having you get up and startle his lap before leaning down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. “You´re the sweetest.”

When you backed away again, remembering that the camera was still rolling in the background he grabbed your chin and pulled you down into another kiss.

“You might have to edit that out.” He brushed hair, that fell into your face while kissing, away and smiled. “So, you will let me post this?”

He chuckled. “As if I could ever say no to you.”

[11queensupreme11]

So I have a question? You know that song lyric “Would you still love me if I’m no longer young and beautiful?” By Lana Del Rey. Okay so I’m gonna give you a scenario I’ve been thinking about adding to my story (as a draft for the next interlude after I finish the next reaction chapter)

So it goes a little like this:

Let say Percy who was a goddess (like in the last ask) got cheated on by Cu and, in her despair, killed herself.

(This is just a draft but I do plan on starting the chapter with her suicide note to her children first. Then to each of the yans individually. And maybe a couple to the friends and family she made on the way. So like a note to Shiva and his wives, Adamas, maybe Hercules and Prometheus, and…Ra(surprise! 🤭) honestly, I plan on making his a mixture of kinda funny/sarcastic, but also nostalgic and sad.)

Everyone finds out of course. And Zeus, devestated by the loss of his favorite neice, incensed by the disrespect shown to the Greek Pantheon by the Celtic Pantheon, spurred on by his son, brothers, and pantheon’s devestation and righteous anger at Percy’s death, along with the Egyptian, Norse, Abrahamic,Hindu, etc. Pantheons’ anger with what Cu did, obviously, declare war. The heavens are split and in utter chaos as the two sides form and each side is gathering allies for the upcoming war (it’ll be known as the “The Divine Schism” later on.

So, as u can imagine, this results in a lot of death, a lot of emotions flying around, and it isn’t even just the gods fighting other gods. Or Percy’s children fighting her other children(wish she begged them in her letter not to do, but she’s gone now; and her children are just as unhinged as their dads) . It also causes the humans to fight too because she was friends with a lot of them and a lot of them blame the Celtic people for 1)encouraging the views that made Cu think it was okay to do that (which is hypocritical because they still believe or once believed and would have done the same thing just due to the time period they were raised/born into, but a lot of them liked Percy so she was the exception) and 2) for not trying harder to keep him under control back when he was still a human on Midgard (Papa Adam is REALLY disappointed).

ANYWAY!

At this point, the war has gotten bad enough that the Fates, the Morrigan, the Norns, and all the other gods and goddesses related to fate and destiny realize that sooner or later the gods are going to end up fighting each other into extinction (with the humans in Vallhalla doing the same) and so they do some research (through their powers which were given to them by “the-Powers-that-Be” (which I actually mentioned in a chapter already but basically that’s the power that created them, their universe, and all the other universes that exist or will ever exist) and find out that, while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated into a different universe and nope🤭🤭it’s NOT the PJO universe. Which universe it is, I’m going to keep that a secret for now but I wouldn’t mind doing a poll to see which universe everyone would WANT her to be in. It might even help me decide. (just know it’s gonna be an anime universe. So either One Piece, Bleach, Naruto, or something else. It’ll have to be one I’ve read or watched before tho.) but it’s a secret, even to me, until I actually sit down and write this chapter.

Anyway, they find her reincarnated soul (in this I think I’m going to make it so that she only remembers SOME of her past life as a goddess and a demigod and it comes to her in her dreams) and, in order to stop the godly war that threatens the very foundations of their universe, they sit the Pantheons down (what’s left of them anyway) and tell them about what happened and where she is now. This, of course revitalizes the yans (ESPECIALLY CU!!!) because they see it as a second chance to get her back and make SURE she NEVER leaves them EVER again. (I’m talking they might actually lock her in a palace where they watch her every move 24/7 for the rest of eternity)

So they come up with a plan to basically kidnap her from this other plane. In this other universe tho, she’s lived a full, happy life. Sure it had some challenges (if she’s in One Piece I’m gonna make it so that she was Ace’s sister so she def fought in Marineford (love interest: Shanks), if in Bleach I’m making her the Captain of one of the divisions (Love interest:Sosuke Aizen 🤭🤭), if in Naruto ( I honestly can’t see her as an assassin/killer which is literally all ninjas are trained to do when u get to the crux of it so maybe like a political figure of peace? A daiymo maybe? Idk I’d have to figure it out (love interest: Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, or Madara Uchiha depending on what time period I want her to be reincarnated into)

I plan on having her influence a lot of stuff, fall in love, have children with said Love Interest, and be an old lady by the time they start looking for her ( might have to write this in three parts since I do want to dedicate a chapter to her life in that other universe).

I’m still trying to figure out all the logistics since I want it to be believable and not just super random and unorganized because there are a lot of moving parts.

But my question to u is what do u think the yans will think (at this point in time) or do about an old, grandma version of Percy? Will it matter to them? She won’t be the same Percy at this point. She might remember some things about them but for the most part she won’t remember them and tho she might have the same morals as the last Percy, because of the stuff she went through in this new universe, she isn’t just physically different (old) but mentally too.

EVERYTHING HERE IS PERFECT BUT I JUST HAVE ONE CORRECTION:

"while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated"

it's niflhel!!! niflhel (or oblivion, nonexistence, whatever) is where all gods and mortal souls (after dying in the afterlife) go to when they die!

anyway.................

AIZEN SOSUKE????????? AND KAKASHI????????????

dude i genuinely don't know who to vote for, kakashi has been my anime crush SINCE I WAS A LITTLE GIRL, and aizen's so fucking daddy too omg why would you make us pick between them that's so cruel 😭😭😭😭😭😭

as for your question, age wouldn't matter much to them cuz they can just forcefully revert her back to her prime or back to whatever age/appearance they last saw her as!

the issue is the mentality 😞 if she's too different (like if she's not the same sweet, cheery, uwu, and infuriatingly annoying and troublesome girl that they know, then they might actually feel defeated. it's percy.... but at the same time it's not THEIR percy

tbh they'd probably try to find a way to revert her back to the percy they know, but if that doesn't work or they can't do it, then it's back to despair and anger 💀

[cyberesc]

BEST ENEMY. (2/3)

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Villain!Reader

synopsis: The Hero Commission is tired of waiting. You've been Deku's responsibility for too long and they want results. But no one, not even the Number One Hero, gets the luxury of loving their greatest sin.

˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: heavy angst, violence, mutual obsession, self-destructive tendencies, implied fem reader

note: ugh i love writing characters spiraling/feeling guilt, if you couldn't tell, whump is my favorite type of genre

part 1 | part 3

The Commission is done waiting.

It’s been years. Years of headlines that should’ve read of your death but instead told stories of their failure to capture you. You’re still breathing, and for them, that’s a problem.

Izuku knows of the meetings he’s no longer invited to, of the glances from heroes who have long since lost their patience. If he won’t do it, someone else will.

He’s run out of time.

But when he sees you again, standing in the wreckage of your latest disaster, eyes wicked and fond, he knows he’ll never be able to finish this.

Not the way they want him to.

You knew it would come to this.

There are rules in the world, and one of them is that even heroes must bow to the men who pull their strings. Izuku, for all his strength, for all his will, is still a man tangled in a system that was never built to accommodate softness.

It’s a shame, really. You hate seeing them chip away at him, sculpting something colder from the boy who once held the whole world in his palms, promising to save everyone.

Even you.

You wonder how long it will take before they rip that hope from him completely.

The thought should make you smile.

It doesn’t.

It’s funny, in a cruel way.

Izuku can’t stand you, but he also can’t stand the thought of anyone else taking you out.

It’s a possessive, selfish thing. A terrible thing. But he can live with being terrible.

He can’t live with the thought of some faceless hero putting you down like an animal.

No.

If anyone will do it, it will be him.

And if he can’t, if the moment ever comes and he falters like he always does, then maybe that’s the answer neither of you have ever been brave enough to say.

That you were never meant to be erased.

That his hands were never meant to be stained with your blood.

That even now, even after everything, he still wants to save you.

Even if you’ve never asked him to.

“Didn't think you had it in you,” you murmur, lips curling in amusement. “I thought for a second you’d actually do it.”

Izuku’s fingers twitch at his sides, jaw tightening. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

That night, when the hit on you went public. He lost his mind, went storming into the Commission’s offices with fury crackling at his fingertips, demanding to know who had the gall to put you on a kill list. When he found you later, still alive, still breathing, he was so angry, so relieved, so conflicted.

He kissed you.

He hated you.

He still does.

You liked that about him, didn’t you? The way he tried so hard to be terrifying, all fire and fury and justice, but all you saw was a boy too soft for the world. Your boy, once.

He can feel you staring, eyes tracing the lines of his face, the new scars he’s earned since the last time you saw each other up close.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, Izuku.” You smile. “Still pink in the cheeks, even now.”

He clenches his fists.

“I should've.."

“Killed me?” You raise a brow. “Please, you're not ready yet.”

Izuku doesn’t move.

He doesn’t correct you.

He doesn't remember when the distance between you disappeared.

All he knows is that he has his head in your lap while your fingers brush through his messy green curls. You say nothing about the tears slipping down his cheeks or the way his arms tighten around your waist. Instead, you just hum a soft tune, grounding him in the warmth of your presence.

He clings to you and he's never been more grateful for your silence.

He buries his face into your stomach and hopes that he gets the courage to put you down tomorrow.

Izuku's been acting weird lately.

It's what his friends have been thinking, they blame it on the affects of the war, but they knew it went beyond that.

Ochaco wasn't one to ask questions.

She’s known Izuku long enough to understand that some things are better left unsaid.

But she sees the way his eyes burn when he talks about you, a fire that isn’t rage but something much worse.

It reminds her of herself, in the quiet moments when she thinks of Toga. When she wonders what she could’ve done differently, if there was ever a moment when she could have saved her.

If she could've stopped her from giving up her blood. Her heart aches when she thinks about the blood flowing through her veins, her body tainted with the soul of someone she couldn't save.

She understands.

And she understands that Izuku will never let this go.

His will to save is like a rose, beautiful and precious but lined with thorns that dig into him, carving his devotion into his very flesh.

One day, those thorns will bleed him dry.

The hero they’ve hired is good.

Maybe even good enough to do what Izuku won’t.

The thought makes him sick.

He watches from the rooftops as they track you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He shouldn’t be here. He knows he shouldn’t be here.

But he is.

Because it should be him.

If anyone is going to save you, or kill you, it has to be him.

He has never once believed in fate.

But if there is a god in this world, then you are the princess locked in the tower, and he is the knight meant to rescue you.

Or maybe

You’re the dragon, and he’s the fool who still believes you can be tamed.

Either way, this story will only end one way.

With one of you dead.

Or with both of you realizing that neither of you were ever meant to survive in the first place.

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[andy-15-07]

I LOVE your fix! Would you write a Paul Mescalxactress at her new movie premiere or maybe a honeymoon/vacation fix?

A Honeymoon to Remember

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2347 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The sun was dipping low into the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, when you and Paul stepped into your honeymoon suite. The space was airy and softly lit, with large windows offering a breathtaking view of the ocean beyond. A gentle sea breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of salt and tropical blooms—a welcome reminder that you had left the ordinary behind.

Paul took your hand, his fingers warm and reassuring against your skin. “I still can’t believe we’re here,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the room with wonder. “It all feels so… surreal.”

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “I know. Just yesterday, I was nervously walking down the aisle, and now we’re here—on our honeymoon, starting our life together.”

As you set your bags down, Paul’s eyes twinkled. “How about we freshen up and then step out on the balcony? I’d love to watch the sunset with you.”

Soon, dressed in soft, comfortable clothes, you both moved to the expansive balcony. The view was mesmerizing: the endless ocean, a scattering of palm trees, and the sky slowly shifting colors as the day turned to dusk. You clinked your champagne glasses together in a quiet toast.

“Here’s to us,” Paul murmured. “To love, adventure, and a future full of moments just like this.”

You took a sip of champagne and replied, “And here’s to all the memories we’re about to make.”

For a long while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, each lost in your thoughts, until Paul broke the stillness. “You know, I was thinking about the wedding… Remember how you laughed when I almost tripped on the steps of the altar?”

You giggled, your cheeks warming with the memory. “Oh, I remember! I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud in front of everyone, but I couldn’t help it. It was one of those moments that made the day even more unforgettable.”

Paul’s smile deepened. “That moment was perfectly imperfect—just like us. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Later that evening, you moved inside to the living area where soft instrumental music played in the background. The room was decorated with delicate touches: a vase of fresh flowers here, a stack of romantic books there, and the lingering aroma of sandalwood in the air. You both sank into the plush sofa, and before long, conversation flowed as naturally as the tide.

“Tell me something I might not know about you,” Paul said suddenly, his tone playful yet sincere. “Something that isn’t on the wedding guest list.”

You thought for a moment before replying with a gentle smile. “I’ve always dreamed of living in a little cottage by the sea—somewhere I could write in my journal, watch the sunrise every day, and find inspiration in every little moment. It’s like a dream of endless calm.”

Paul reached over and squeezed your hand. “I can see it now—the two of us, a cozy cottage, and endless walks along a quiet beach. I promise, one day, we’ll make that dream our reality.”

The conversation meandered effortlessly from dreams of future homes to silly childhood memories. You recounted the time you’d been so afraid of thunderstorms as a child, while Paul shared an embarrassing tale about his early acting days when he’d forgotten his lines on stage. Laughter mingled with affectionate teasing as you both uncovered little details that made your hearts beat a little faster.

At one point, you said, “Do you remember when I accidentally spilled water all over your shoes before the reception? I was mortified!”

Paul laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “How could I forget? I was more focused on your smile than my soggy shoes. Every little mishap just adds to our story.”

As the night deepened, the intimacy of the room seemed to grow with each exchanged word. Eventually, you both retired to the king-sized bed, where soft linens and the quiet hum of the air conditioner created the perfect cocoon. Lying side by side, you whispered your hopes and dreams, the dialogue between you as soothing as a lullaby.

“I feel so complete when I’m with you,” you admitted softly, resting your head on Paul’s shoulder.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from your face and whispered, “I feel it too, y/n. Every day, every conversation—no matter how small—builds this incredible life we’re starting together.”

In the hush of the room, you shared your ideas of traveling the world someday. “Imagine us wandering through the streets of Paris, holding hands as we watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night,” you said dreamily.

Paul’s eyes lit up. “And exploring ancient ruins in Greece, laughing at the little café on every corner! I want us to see every part of the world, as long as I’m with you.”

A few hours later, sleep finally overtook you both, the promises of the day mingling with the hope for tomorrow.

Morning arrived with a gentle radiance, and you awoke to find Paul already stirring. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said with a sleepy smile as he brushed your hair away from your face. “Are you ready to see the sunrise?”

You stretched and sat up, feeling the warmth of the early sun fill the room. “I was born ready,” you replied, your voice bright with anticipation.

Stepping out onto the balcony again, you were greeted by the serene sight of the sun peeking over the horizon, its rays turning the ocean into a shimmering expanse of gold and blue. You and Paul walked along the balcony edge, fingers entwined, sharing soft words of admiration for the beauty of the new day.

“Every morning with you feels like a fresh start,” Paul murmured as you both paused to watch the horizon. “Like every sunrise is a promise of something amazing.”

You nodded, your heart full. “I feel that too. It’s as if the whole world is whispering that today is ours.”

After a leisurely morning stroll along the beach—barefoot in the soft, cool sand—you both returned to the resort for breakfast at a quaint seaside café. The café was charming, with large windows that let in the warm morning light and the gentle sound of the ocean in the background. Over plates of fresh fruit, pastries, and steaming cups of coffee, the conversation continued.

“So, where to next?” Paul asked, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. “I heard there’s a fantastic local art market not far from here.”

Your eyes lit up. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to visit that market ever since I read about it. They say it’s full of vibrant colors and handmade treasures.”

“Then it’s settled,” Paul said, reaching across the table to take your hand. “Today, we’ll explore the market, find something special, and maybe even get a little lost in the process.”

After breakfast, you both strolled through the bustling streets toward the market. Vendors lined the narrow pathways, their stalls bursting with handmade crafts, intricate paintings, and vibrant textiles. The air was filled with lively chatter, the scent of exotic spices, and the rhythmic beats of local music.

Stopping at a stall displaying a series of serene seaside paintings, Paul leaned in close. “What do you think of this one?” he asked, pointing to a canvas that depicted a tranquil harbor under a pastel sky.

You studied the painting and smiled. “It captures exactly how I feel about this trip—peaceful, hopeful, and full of possibility. It’s like a glimpse into a perfect moment, much like the moments we share.”

Encouraged by your words, Paul purchased a small sketch of the scene, declaring it a memento of your first day on the market. As you continued to wander, your conversation was punctuated by excited discoveries and playful teasing.

At one particularly vibrant stall, you held up a piece of handmade jewelry for Paul to see. “What do you think—does this look good on me?” you asked with a mischievous grin.

Paul laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It would look perfect, because it’s yours. But I’m not sure I’d ever be able to top that look even if I tried.”

You nudged him gently with your elbow. “Oh, please. I think you’re absolutely perfect just the way you are.”

Between the colorful wares and the shared laughter, the market soon became a tapestry of unforgettable moments. Every corner you turned offered a new topic for conversation—from the history behind a centuries-old artifact to the modern art that challenged both your imaginations. The market wasn’t just a place to shop; it was a stage for you both to explore the art of conversation and connection.

As the day began to wane, you and Paul made your way back to the resort, hearts full of the day’s discoveries. Back in the quiet intimacy of your suite, the conversation shifted to reflections on what you’d experienced.

“Today was incredible,” you said softly, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “I feel like every conversation we had, every laugh we shared—it brought us closer together.”

Paul sat beside you, his hand gently holding yours. “That’s what I love about us, y/n. We never run out of things to say, and every word feels like a step forward in our journey together. I’m already looking forward to tomorrow.”

You leaned into him. “Do you ever think about how much every small moment adds up? Like how our shared talks, even about something as simple as the weather, become the foundation of our love?”

He nodded, his expression serious yet tender. “Absolutely. It’s in those quiet moments that I feel our bond grow stronger. Our conversations—whether filled with laughter or whispered secrets—are what make our love real.”

Later that evening, while enjoying a quiet dinner by the ocean at a local seaside restaurant, you and Paul continued your dialogue over soft candlelight and the gentle lull of the waves. The table was adorned with fresh seafood, crisp salads, and a bottle of wine that promised to add to the magic of the night.

“Let’s talk about the future,” Paul said between bites of his meal. “Where do you see us in five years?”

You paused, considering the question. “I see us in that little cottage by the sea I always dreamed of—a place filled with warmth, creativity, and endless love. I imagine lazy mornings with coffee on the porch, long walks along the beach, and evenings spent sharing stories and planning our next adventure.”

Paul reached across the table to cup your cheek. “That sounds perfect. I see a future where we continue to explore the world together, but always come home to each other. Every destination, every experience, is enriched by our shared conversations.”

You smiled, the flicker of the candlelight reflecting in your eyes. “It’s amazing how our words and dreams intertwine. Even when we’re apart, I carry every conversation we’ve had with me, like a cherished keepsake.”

As the night deepened, so did your dialogue. Back in your suite, you settled on a cozy rug by the window, the sound of the waves lulling you into a comfortable silence that was soon broken by thoughtful musings.

“Do you remember,” you said softly, “when we first met, how nervous I was to talk to you? I felt like every word I said was clumsy, like I was trying to capture lightning in a bottle.”

Paul chuckled, drawing you close. “I remember that vividly. But even then, every word you spoke was captivating. It was as if you were already writing our story, one imperfect but beautiful sentence at a time.”

You laughed gently. “And now, here we are, on our honeymoon, weaving our story with every word, every laugh, every quiet moment.”

“Every conversation is a promise,” Paul replied, his voice tender as he held you close. “A promise that no matter what happens, we’ll always have our dialogue, our connection. And that is the most precious thing I can ever imagine.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, letting the quiet night and the sound of the ocean remind you both that love is not only in grand gestures but in every whispered word, every shared dream. In that moment, you knew that your honeymoon was not merely an escape from the world but the start of an endless, heartfelt conversation that would carry you both forward into the future.

Before sleep finally claimed you, you made one last promise in the soft glow of the moonlight. “No matter how hectic life gets, let’s never stop talking. Let’s always find time for these moments.”

Paul’s eyes shone with unwavering certainty as he whispered, “Always, y/n. Every day, every conversation, will be our love story.”

With those words echoing in your hearts, you drifted into a peaceful sleep—each dream a delicate continuation of the dialogue that had brought you together and would forever bind you in love.

In the days that followed, whether exploring hidden coves along the beach or savoring the simple pleasure of a shared meal, every moment was filled with dialogue that deepened your bond. Each conversation, from the playful teasing over silly jokes to the quiet, heartfelt confessions of your dreams, reaffirmed that this honeymoon was not just a getaway but the prologue to a lifetime of shared adventures.

And as the final day of your honeymoon arrived, you both sat on the balcony one last time, the sun setting in a blaze of color. Paul held your hand and said, “I’ll always cherish these moments—the laughs, the dreams, the endless dialogue that we’ve shared. It’s the beginning of a lifetime of love.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “Our honeymoon may be ending, but our story is only just beginning. Every conversation we have from now on will be a reminder of today—a reminder of how every word, every moment, is a promise of all that’s to come.”

With that, you embraced, the ocean’s gentle murmur underscoring the promise of a bright future together—a future built on endless dialogue, deep connection, and the unbreakable bond of love.

[mooniema]

Can you pleaseee do something with Sae-byeok or Se-mi x barista reader?

Se-mi x reader - hot chocolate with marshmallows

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

pairing ; Se-mi x barista reader

summary ; on a saturday morning, while you were working as a barista, a stunning woman comes in and you accidently mess up her order

warnings ; shitty writing and she might be a little ooc idk, might delete it later if i get too embarrassed

words:

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

Men dni

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

It was a particularly busy Saturday morning and you were at your new job in a café as a barista. It was your third day at work and you still had to bring a routine in doing your. Even though it was stressful and gave you even less free time, you know that you can't mess up, because you need the money to pay at least a part of your college fees, since your family isn't rich enough to pay everything alone.

So now you are here, serving customers during rush hour with a headache from all the noise and a smile on your face so you seem friendly enough.

When you had a moment of peace you started zooning out, looking out of the window to see the mist surrounding everything. No wonder people were rushing in, just looking outside made you feel cold.

A smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. "Hi, I´d like to order something" You quickly looked to see who was talking to you and you saw her. A short haired woman with piercings on nose and lips, which add to her beauty. She has a faint smirk on her face, studying you with her dark eyes and you can´t help, but feel small under her gaze. You quickly stopped staring at this intimidating woman and put on your customer smile. "Oh hi! Of course, what can I get for you?" "A caramel macchiato, please." You nod and point at a table. "Sit down on the table, while I make your order please"

You watch as the woman nods and goes over to the table, sits down and starts looking at her phone. Then you go to make her order and while doing so, your female coworker bumps into you and you land on the ground. "Omg, I'm so sorry!" The girl kneels down, quickly helping you up. "Can you do me a favor and make some orders for me? The guests there next to the door want one hot chocolate, one latte macchiato and two black coffees. Thank you!" You stare perplex as she rushes away through the backdoor to the 'employees only' area and sigh, feeling frustrated at her leaving you with even more work. You look over to the pretty customer from before, who seems occupied with her phone and you lean on the counter trying to remember what she ordered. Fuck, what did she order again? You think to yourself. You go through all the orders you remembered in your thoughts, before settling on hot chocolate. I'm pretty sure, it was hot chocolate... She probably wants to warm up from the cold. Maybe I should ask her again? You quickly shake your head at that. No way, I'm new at this job and this would just show, how unorganised I still am and she looks like she could bite my head off... I'll just make her hot chocolate and if its the wrong order, I'll make her the right order and pay for it and pray that my boss isn't watching.

You start making the hot chocolate and and after a bit you place some marshmallows in it and go to the counter with the cup in your hand, calling the intimidating girl over. You watch as the girl approaches with a nervous feeling in your stomach from not knowing if you messed her order up, but you try to keep your friendly smile. You hand over the hot chocolate. "Here is your order!" You watch as she takes it into her hands, decorated with silver rings and you notice her confused look. "Is everything okay?" "Uh yea, but that's not what I ordered... I ordered a caramel macchiato" You start to feel your cheeks redden from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll go and make you a new drink" You reach out to get the drink, but instead of giving you it, she takes a sip. "No need to, I'll keep the hot chocolate" You try to insist on making her a new drink, but she just chuckles. "But Miss-, you don't have to drink that..." "No need to call me Miss... My name is Se-mi and instead of apologizing, just make it up to me by texting me later" She quickly scribbles her phone number on a napkin and hands it over to you with the money for the hot chocolate and then walks away, while you stare at her with a flushed and surprised expression. "Bye sweetheart and don't forget to text me!"

I'm so sorry, that this is so bad written and short, but I'm kinda stressed, because of school right now and I kinda rushed this. I might delete this later and maybe rewrite it, if I get inspiration.

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

If you are still taking fic prompts I would love to suggest landoscar and 30☺️

DEFINITELY still taking ficlet prompts. 30 from this list here: "You can't tell anyone" This is a thinly veiled excuse to also write Oscarmark because all anyone's asked for is Landoscar and I want to branch out a little smidgen. It's also not ANGSTY, but it's certainly a little toxic and rancid. First line above the cut, the rest underneath bc it launches into NSFW really quick.

Lando’s not expecting it. 

He’s not expecting to push into Oscar’s driver room (without knocking, because he doesn’t need to knock), to find Oscar on his knees, Mark Webber standing above him, fingers twisted in Oscar’s hair, his cock down Oscar’s throat. It stops him dead in his tracks for a moment, mouth open for a moment, before he snaps it shut. 

“Wasn’t expecting visitors,” Mark says it casually, as Oscar makes a gagging sound, choking around Mark’s cock in surprise. He tries to pull back, but Mark’s hand tightens in his hair, pulls him closer, until he’s buried so deep in Oscar’s mouth that Lando can see Oscar’s nose pressing against Mark’s skin, the curl of his pubic hair. 

“Stay, Oscar,” it’s almost conversational, as he strokes his hand through Oscar’s hair, before looking back up at Lando. The same adoration he’d fixed on Oscar isn’t present in his gaze, though, when he looks at Lando. 

“What do you need, Lando,” there’s a very thin layer of patience that remains in Mark’s voice, and in the silence that follows, Lando wants to slap his hands over his ears at the wet choke of Oscar’s throat around Mark’s cock. Glances from Mark, down to Oscar, to the line of saliva that’s trickling down his cheek, to glossy brown eyes, the tears beading along his lash line. 

He can’t even remember what he’s here for. But it certainly isn’t that. 

“N-nothing,” he stammers the word out, and then is turning on his heel to leave. 

“You’re here already, you can always just stay,” Mark murmurs, and Lando blushes red to the tips of his ears. It stops him dead in his tracks though, thinking about it. About the obscene stretch of Oscar’s lips around Mark’s cock. It’s not his thing, though. 

Oscar’s his thing. But watching Oscar with Mark, the devastating knowledge that Oscar will never be his? That’s not his thing. 

“It’s fine, I’ll come back later. Text me, Osc, yeah?” Lando asks, doesn’t wait for an answer from either of them before he scurries out of the room. 

He’s not expecting the knock on his hotel room door, a couple hours later, when he’s got the TV on as background noise, lounging in his bed, scrolling through social media. He hasn’t been able to get the image of Oscar’s mouth stretched around Mark’s cock out of his head, sees it on replay, imprinted on the back of his eyelids. It startles him, from the strange, sleepy stretch of time, has his phone flying out of his hands onto the floor with a thud. 

“One sec,” he shouts, flops out of bed like a baby deer, and makes his way to the door. Cracks it open to see Oscar standing outside, fingers twisting together, anxious. 

“C’mon then,” he mutters, steps to the side and swings the door open so Oscar can enter the room, closes it behind. Oscar’s cheeks are flushed, but the rest of him looks a little pale, and he brings his finger to his mouth, chews on the knuckle of his pointer finger as he looks at Lando, long and searching. 

“Out with it, mate,” Lando mutters, has to look away for a minute, to gain his bearings. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Lando can tell it’s meant to sound desperate, like a cry, but Oscar’s voice is wrecked and hoarse, and he’s Oscar. Painfully, brutally neutral even when the time doesn’t call for it. “He’s…it would fuck his career,” Oscar explains, gentle, soft. 

Lando snorts. Course it fucking would. Mark Webber fucking Oscar Piastri would be all anyone would talk about, for myriad reasons. He wasn’t about to talk about it, wasn’t about to tell anyone. He was going to keep it locked in a vault of material to have a guilty wank over, and then move on from it eventually, some day. 

Truth be told, he wasn’t even expecting Oscar to come and try to explain it away, justify it away, whatever he’s trying to do right now. 

“Course,” Lando says, rolling his eyes. Oscar squints at him, as though trying to see through whatever front Lando’s putting up, to see if he’s lying. Catches his lower lip between his teeth, and lets out a long sigh. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” he finishes, nods, as though he’s satisfied that Lando’s not about to take it back. Turns to go. 

“Wouldn’t hurt though if I had some…” Lando trails off for a minute, the word he’s looking for on the tip of his tongue. Snaps his fingers when he gets it, startling Oscar. “If I had some incentive,” he says with finality, dragging his eyes over the line of Oscar’s body, from his toes, back up to his rosy cheeks. 

“Y’know, from your knees, or whatever,”

[abitofboth]

GOD HELLO YES I’M SORRY IVE ONLY JUST SEEN THIS BUT ABSOLUTELY!!!!

I've started to see more welsh!owen popping up in the fandon recently which is making me SO happy!! it's one of my favourite headcannons for him and honestly, at this point, it's cannon in my eyes lmao

it started for me because I'm welsh myself and I hit all my favourite characters with my welshification beam, but aside from that, one glaring reasoning is his name actually! the origins of 'owen' come from the welsh name 'owain' (pronounced oh-wine) which is a pretty common welsh name.

there's a very famous man in welsh history called owain glyndŵr (oh-wine glind-ooh-er) who was the last native welsh person to hold the title the prince of wales, and he was born in 1359 so it's been a pretty long fuckin time since someone welsh has been on the throne (not that I support the monarchy, but it's worth noting because there's a lot of history between the welsh and the english with a lot of animosity between the two nations). all of this to say, owain glyndŵr led a 15 year long revolt to end english rule in wales, which I think is interesting to think about the comparisons of owen going against the world's leading governments with his work with chimera post-fall, even if the contexts are wildly different lmao. (glyndŵr did a lot of other very interesting things in welsh history which is definitely worth a read about)

I also really love the idea that owen was born in and grew up in wales, then later moved to london when he was a young adult. the thought that once he crossed over the border, he was saying goodbye to his old self and signing his life away to the british government and fully stepping into the world of spies. combined with him then going on to dedicate his life to chimera's cause, it's kind of heartbreaking to play with the idea that once he left wales his life was never really ever his own. he just became weapons for other people.

I also have the hc that he taught himself his RP accent. not so much any more, but back in the day many english people looked down on the welsh (look up the 'welsh not' for example) and I feel like owen would have this fear that his welsh accent would hold him back. he worked with/for the most powerful people in the world, he rubbed shoulders with the british government, he wanted to be respected, he wanted to be in a position of influence within the agency: he was not going to get that if he didn't sound like a rich english man. he had to fake his existence in high society and the easiest way was to force the accent out of himself. I like the idea of him involuntarily slipping back into it when his guard is aaaaaaall the way down (namely, when he feels safe with curt. :') )

speaking of, I LOVE the idea of him throwing in welsh words and phrases every now and then. I don't think he'd be fluent, but definitely knows enough to hold conversations with family etc. he absolutely calls curt 'cariad' (love/darling). 'del' is another cute one that can mean pretty/sweetheart that I think he would like using- “ti’n iawn, del?” would mean "you alright, sweetheart?" which HELLO!! is such an owen phrase to me

I also have a separate owen hc that his favourite book is the hobbit, and tolkien was pretty heavily inspired by wales when writing those books!!

and one last thing because I realise I'm word vomiting here: the welsh word 'hiraeth'. there's no direct english translation for this word, but it's essentially the feeling of a deep longing for something, especially for one's home. I think owen's entire being is stained with this feeling. a grief filled homesickness- whether in the context of his actual home, or the home he finds within curt, he goes kind of mad with it. it's even more heartbreaking to think of this feeling immediately after he fell and was left alone with no home to speak of. owies!!

I've sprinkled welsh owen into a few fics I've written in the past and I love seeing it pop up in other people's fics (one I remember and love was written by @considerablecolors with such a lovely subtle detail of owen's first crush being a boy called gethin) and it's just a hc that I really hold near and dear!! I've probably missed things out that I'd love to talk about but this is very much just a stream of whatever came spewing out first. I'd LOVE to read other people's thoughts and headcannons if anyone is willing to share!! <3

owen carvour my welsh king

[sanza-17]

it’s 3am rn in the uk but I just had the biggest epiphany whilst pacing back and forth in my uni accom room as I listen to sexxy red

so I played Morrowind for like 3-5 mins before I got lost tryna get to the first city before I gave up and stopped playing but I wanted to come up with a design and maybe even a small idea/backstory for my nereverine and SO I decided that my eso oc Elynisi was going to be my nereverine 🥴 the idea was going to be that Azura for some reason decides to snatch up Elys spirit some time after she dies from old age for some reason (still figuring that out)

and then she’s reborn as the again during the 3rd era and she just shows up as some abandoned baby or something but the twist is that this time in this life she has white hair instead of her usual reddish colour (I’m acc so smart) and Yh that’s about it so far. She’ll do the usual stuff, get caught doing something bad and get sent to the imperial city prison before she ends up getting shipped from Morrowind and whatever happens next idk but at some point Ely and Irene end up meeting somehow and Irene is low-key tweaking cuz this lady looks very familiar, maybe even having a similar hairstyle but a diff colour so she tries to calm down and keep it to herself but at some point maybe Azura or something confirms it to her or both of them that she’s actually one of her old best friends from the second era she randomly decided to snatch up.

skip over a few things and Irene is probably the most happiest she’s ever been since the 2nd era as she gets to be reunited with someone she loved and cared about ages though she’s a little different now but she’s not gonna complain she’s been waiting around 800 years to see someone familiar again. After the whole nereverine and tribunal stuff is over I like to think that the two go to Daggerfall so she could show her around for nostalgia reasons and reminisce about the old days. And maybe they BOTH end up going on a little trip to akavir together idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ gives me an idea of what my vestige could potentially be doing during the events of the 4th era cuz I haven’t thought that far in terms of irenes future

but idk I just wanted a reason to use elys design again cuz I love it so much lmao

[front-facing-pokemon]

[yeonban]

I was thinking there aren't enough memes catered to third parties on this site (ex. two muses talking about a third) which imo make rp flow so much smoother sometimes bc it feels more realistic for interactions to not start & end at only the two people directly involved, but then I realized... blud, you have a meme sideblog. You can literally make your own dreams come true

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[cerealmonster15]

it also occurred to me like yesterday that in my kali/sil fic I’ve been writing I think I like, focused so hard on figuring out characterization and relationship dynamic accuracy and also just fighting for my life with the plot that I believe I neglected to like. Mention silvers sleepy boy situation like,,, at all. Maybe once offhandedly??? Like I didn’t forget it’s a part of him but I think somehow I just forgot to work it into the fic at all when it’s generally a pretty big part of his character 😭😭😭 like maybe it’s bc we’ve been in book 7 and it hasn’t come up in the dream zone (I forget if he mentioned if he’s just not sleepy boy in the dream realms, probably lol) so maybe that’s why I forgot??? But even then I literally went to some of the vignettes to study how he talks with kalim and the sleepies does come up in those examples….. I feel like it’s just something I was like “yeah yeah that’s a given I need to figure out the rest of him rn tho cuz he’s more than just a sleepy guy” so hard that it slipped my mind completely….. I went too hard in the other direction….