#ice cream oxford

[bitch-witch-aint-no-snitch]

Nice video on handmade ice cream oxford nc

[reniedraws]

Cool video on Old fashioned ice cream parlor oxford nc

[rilwan45]

Cool video on Old fashioned ice cream parlor oxford nc

[stoatsandwich]

Amazing video on ice cream oxford nc

[generalnutcherryblossom]

Incredible video on handmade ice cream oxford nc

[magicaloxford]

I started an instagram :) 🌟! You can check it out here: @magicaloxfordchronicles

I took a break from my studies today and ate a strawberry lemonade sorbet in the gardens of Christ Church College 🍦🌸

[teamvampireweekend]

Vampire Weekend's special album release show for Only God Was Above Us at the Moody Amphitheatre [aka VW total solar eclipse show, 08 April 2024]

Setlist:

Ice Cream Piano Classical Unbelievers Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa Holiday White Sky Connect Sunflower Capricorn This Life Gen-X Cops Diane Young Cousins Jonathan Low Flower Moon Show break to watch the eclipse Hope Tonight (with Thomas Mars of Phoenix) Thomas Mars and Dave 1 singing joyeux anniversaire to Ezra Needy Girl (with Dave 1 of Chromeo) Harmony Hall (with Brian Robert Jones) Oxford Comma A-Punk Married in a Gold Rush (Cocaine Cowboys Version)*  Walcott *it included All the Gold in California by Larry Gatlin + Sun City by Flying Burrito Brothers + Cumberland Blues by The Grateful Dead

[holdinbacksecrets]

Cuddling with vernon

Spending casual time with him, watching movies and eating ice cream. When you get ice cream near your lips, he'd kiss it saying "cute" It's all so sweet and lovely. Holding you, being the big spoon, playing with your fingers and hair. Kissing you hands, cheeks, nose, neck, ETC. ETC. :(

It's just so simple yet so cute

:( i love hansol so much, and he’s so boyfriend to me, but in a different way… maybe it’s all the weird in him yet he’s also so wise and i appreciate his perspective so this all just aids the boyfriend energy and the comfort that cuddling would bring

he’s definitely someone i imagine doing lots of ‘spending time in the same room doing different things’ bc he just wants to soak up as much of you as possible, and he’ll eventually push away whatever he’s been working on and capture your attention through a soft touch or call of your name. maybe he motions to your room or the balcony if the weather is lovely, and sinking into his arms is an unbeatable experience. you can feel any pressure on your bones release. anxiety in your mind is softened. your heart warms.

maybe you continue to exist in the same silence as before, just closer. maybe random thoughts are shared, interrupting the quiet peace in gentle waves. perhaps you talk for hours now, recharged by your solo activities.

his fingers card through your hair. your hand is on his chest, a leg between his own. the ceiling fan creats a rhythm that would certainly lull you to sleep if you weren’t so engaged by hansol’s words.

kisses meet your forehead. an i love you fills your ears. he tells you a story—shares a memory that isn’t in your catalogue from years ago, from those early days when you were still figuring each other out.

it’s always a strange sensation that embraces you when a loved one shares a past experience of you, coming to know about the way your left in another’s life, the way your energy, your smile, your gaze feels to someone else—the way it’s often different from what you imagine: oh, that’s the shape of my imprint.

he tells you about the vacation he took to see his family two weeks after your fifth date, and he talked to his sister about you in the kitchen. she’s a better cook than him, but he helped by cutting veggies and measuring ingredients. her entire face lit up as he told her about you. about the skirt you wore with oxfords and a university sweatshirt—your mom’s with fading letters and a distressed collar. about the tea you ordered but waited for twenty minutes to drink because lukewarm is better than a burnt tongue. he told her about the sun’s glow on your skin and his surprise to see your eyes stay wide open even when the brightness found them. he wondered how long it’s taken you to do such a thing—be able to handle it. he called you that night and packed a t shirt he wanted you to have and a cd too, one kept from middle school. you whispered on the phone. it’s something you’ve only done with him when the telephone rings at night. he asked you why, and you said something about a tree outside your window—staying quiet for it or else it’ll call on the wind to make its branches bang your glass. that was the moment he knew.

you peer up at him through long lashes, hazel eyes holding love and surprise and a sprinkling of awe for the man who’s nearly beneath you. he’s about to be as hands guide you to straddle his waist. hansol hums like he doesn’t understand your expression, but he does. he just wants you to say it, wants you to look at him like this for the rest of the afternoon while tracing the lines on his face.

what your heart is doing, the way it’s swelled, is sweeter than moonlight. the wanting is all over you. the wanting to know every other thing he’s kept with him. wanting to share moments your mind clutches and unravel memories, realize which are shared or only known by one. you find yourself wondering if this will be a forever routine. hopefully

[disco-orange]

ODD SQUAD HEADCANONS AAAAHAHAHAHA.

Oona and Oscar are cousins

Every odd squad agent's main partner is their platonic soulmate and it's just kinda perfect through some supernatural means.

Todd and Olive were actually on solidly good terms when Todd got kicked out and the show only showed some of the worst parts to make a point.

Oona, Todd, Oscar, and Otis are autistic. Probably more but I really like these guys specifically.

Olympia, Otto, Olive, Oona, and Todd have ADHD. Again probably many more I just don't wanna list them all.

Otis is a huge fan of grammar and has posters of punctuation marks put up wherever he stays. His favorite is the Oxford comma. He *hates* the tilde because he claims it "looks at him funny."

Otis eats paper. He very adamantly claims "no. It's fine. I digest cellulose perfectly," and no one can figure out if he's actually right or not.

Otis eats cereal with water.

Olympia eats cereal with orange juice!!!! She says she likes the tang.

Both Todd and Otto put the milk before the cereal. Otto doesn't know why he does it, and Todd does it because it optimizes his cereal consumption experience [he is correct.]

Olive only eats dry cereal.

Ms. O/Big O/Oprah snores SUPER loudly.

Otto has superglued his fingers together more than once.

Todd's favorite music genre is classical but specifically the flavor with cannons n shit in the songs. Like "aw yeah I would fight someone to this" classical.

Oona follows Bob Ross tutorials.

Olympia had a phase where she put gems on anything and everything. She still has a pair of glasses from when she put gems on them.

Otis has a hard time with speech and will lose the ability to speak sometimes.

Oona has joint pain in her fingers and can semi-accurately predict whether or not it will precipitate based on said joint pain.

Oona has rats!!!!!!

Todd has always wanted to be a mouse or a really tiny rat. Just for a day. He wants to see what it would be like.

Oscar has re-designed the typing keyboard multiple times.

Oscar Really likes vanilla ice cream. He has a vanilla ice cream-inator that makes anything taste like vanilla ice cream.

Oscar REALLY likes textures.

Olive needs the room to be freezing in order to go to sleep.

Olympia's favorite show would be fraggle rock.

Oona is part squirrel. No one is sure how, none of her relatives are squirrels. It's just her who has squirrel DNA.

Oona has 2 moms.

Orla eats orange peels.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Who of the boys you write for gets pussy drunk 👀 it's for science

I really wish I could say all of them

But I also went a little crazy in my spreadsheet (I took it seriously because you said it was for science) and anyway here's a list of almost all of the men that I've written for and the ranking of how pussy drunk I think they get they get from least to most. Image is below the cut; click on pic for better quality; full list of fifty-three men holy crap below.

Won't eat you out unless you ask; probably won't enjoy it much

Frank (Don't Worry Darling)

Don Draper

Percival Graves

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes verse)

Will eat you out if you ask; would rather just be inside you

Tommy Shelby

Diego Jimenez

Abel Morales

Horacio Carrillo

Gurney Halleck

Chris Argent

Marc Specter

Boba Fett

Orlando Oxford

Steve Rogers

Will eat you out without you asking; doesn't mind it

Daniel Le Domas

Duncan Idaho

Andy Barber

Nathan Bateman

Raymond Smith

Stewy Hosseini

Javier Peña

James Bond

Kendall Roy

Don Eppes

Eddie Brock

Carmy Berzatto

Indiana Jones

Will eat you out without you asking; will enjoy it

Jonathan Levy

Benny Miller

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Duke Leto Atreides

George Russell

Harvey Specter

Ray Merrimen

Santiago Garcia

Will Miller

Bucky Barnes

Dean Winchester

Frank Castle

Bruce Wayne

Jake Seresin

Rafael Barba

This man will happily live between your thighs. No thoughts brain scrambled egg. You are the sun and he is ice cream melting slowly.

Angel Reyes

Christopher Pike

Eddie Munson

Frankie Morales

Josh Lyman

Marcus Pike

Matt Murdock

Oberyn Martell

Poe Dameron

Rhett Abbott

Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Tea - a Magnus Archives one-shot

"You must be Martin. Jon used to go on about you a lot."

In MAG 149, season 4, Georgie recognized Martin the moment she saw him just from Jon's descriptions, but we didn't get to hear that.

Have a glimpse into my mind-palace of how it could have happened.

Notes: none. This is just fluff. Spoilers thrugh season 4.

AO3

------

“And then Martin—would you believe this—let a dog into the Archives! A dog! ”

“A whole-ass dog, eh?” said Georgie, sipping her tea, trying not to sound dubious.

“It took him all day to get that thing back out of my Archives. Ridiculous.”

“So… you didn’t fire him?”

“No, I didn’t fire him! Elias put him there for some reason, and I… well, I thought it might be more suspicious if I got him out of the way. The next spy could be worse.”

Spies. Dogs. Evil bosses. “Are you still not going to tell me whatever happened at your weird cult workplace?” she said.

He glared over his coffee. “No, I am not going to tell you what happened at my weird cult workplace. Just. He also makes good tea. That’s all.”

“Bully for him.” She left to go to work.

#

“And then you wouldn’t believe… Martin insisted on ice cream for his birthday. Like we were all children!”

“Oh, no,” Georgie said, pencil posed over her crossword puzzle. “Whatever did you do?”

“Well, I ordered ice cream, of course. No need to rock the boat,” Jon said, leaning on his Oxford English drawl. 

“No, no need to do that,” said Georgie. “What kind?”

He huffed. “Rum and raisin. It was serviceable.”

She knew him too well. “You talked about emulsions again, didn’t you?”

If Jon had feathers, they would have ruffled. “Yes, I talked about emulsions! They’re an important part of modern food theory!”

Georgie laughed, filled out wiseguy for a seven-letter know-it-all prompt, and called it a day.

#

“Martin insists on tea. Insists on it. If I don’t have a hot cuppa, he just… he…” Jon gestures.

“He what?” said Georgie, who really wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“Well, he gets all… big-eyed, and sad, as if I somehow did it at him,” Jon mumbled, looking down. “I have drunk more tea in the last two years than in my entire life.”

“With your grandmother? I doubt that,” said Georgie, who had come into the picture early enough to meet her before she passed.

“No, she insisted I make tea. She never truly cared if I drank it,” Jon mumbled into his empty cup. “Martin cared.” And then he stared at the leaves at the bottom as though offended they were all that remained.

“Well, I’m sure my tea-making skills hardly compare,” said Georgie.

“They don’t,” said Jon, who did not mean cruelty by it.

Georgie spoke fluent Jon. She understood he wasn’t saying, You suck. He was saying, I miss Martin’s tea. “Are you sure you can’t reach out to him? Maybe outside of work?”

Jon went deep red. “I can’t do that.”

“You sure? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“No,” Jon said softly, looking now at the floor. “I can’t talk to anybody. It isn’t safe.”

“Safe?” she said.

He seemed to realize he’d said too much. “I… excuse me.” And he closed himself in the guest bedroom to make another of his weird tape recordings.

#

“I’m telling you, Martin might be sending them!” he said, holding up another batch of suspicious documents.

Georgie was fuming. “How could he be? Did you tell Martin where I live?”

“I… no, I didn’t.”

“Then I doubt he’s sending them.”

“I just thought… no, you’re right. I doubt he misses me at all,” said Jon, hangdog supreme.

Georgie threw her hands in the air. As Jon’s ex, she didn’t really think she had the right to push it further.

#

“Martin made me take his jumper home, and it… well, I never returned it. It’s so very comfortable! I feel oddly safe in it. Isn’t that odd?” A confession, wide-eyed, over breakfast. 

“Martin hates oolong,” said Jon over lunch and oolong. “I’m not sure why. Something to do with his mother, I think.”

“Martin always smiles. It’s suspicious,” Jon declared over dinner.

Georgie began to tune it out.

#

“He was terrible at research,” Jon mumbled late as they both sipped some brandy. “But he always tried so hard. He brought in a jar of worms once, did I tell you that?”

“Uh, no?” said Georgie. “Why would he bring in a jar of worms?”

Jon waved his shot glass. “Reasons,” he said like the grim reaper.

Georgie shook her head and threw back the last of her shot before going to bed.

#

Later, much later, Georgie went to the Magnus Institute, trying to find Melanie. She hated the place; it gave her the creeps, and not only because of what she now knew about Jon. It wasn’t even proper fear. It was just yucky, like something slimy between her toes.

Finding no one, she wandered downstairs, into the Archives, and spotted a man at a desk. He was tall, kind of cuddly-wide; his hair was curly and red, and his freckles were bright. His eyes were, intriguingly, the same color Jon had wistfully described as spring green one very late night.

Like Jon, he had a tape recorder going. She was really beginning to hate those things.

He did a double-take. “Oh, you can’t be here. It’s not allowed.”

“Sorry, Melanie told me to wait for her here,” Georgie said.

“You’re here for Melanie?” the man clarified, standing (good lord, he was tall).

“Yeah. I’m Georgie.”

And out came the smile (which Jon had described) and the awkward aw-shucks body language with one hand behind his head (which Jon had also described). “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize! I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

She knew. He could’ve been conjured from Jon’s imagination for how perfect he was for that man. “You must be Martin.”

He blinked. “Has Melanie been talking about me?”

“No, um. Jon used to go on about you a lot.”

Martin brightened like the sun shining, and then Georgie had to go on for minutes about why she wouldn’t help Jon anymore.

Which Martin insisted she should.

Hell. Jon had no chance. They both had it so bad.

She still didn’t like this place. She still had issues with Jon and everything Jon was doing; but this… she could see this.

Martin and Jon, Jon and Martin. It worked in her head. They fit. 

She hoped it worked out. 

She hoped Jon didn’t drag Martin with him to the grave.

[wandafiction]

Not By Blood, By Choice - Just Us Chapter 18

Warnings: Fluff, Some Angst

Word Count: 2150

Series List | Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

================================

So it's currently Saturday and I am pacing around my room trying to decide what to wear to Wanda's. Now she is cooking for me so I don't need to dress formally because we are not going anywhere, but I still need to put in the effort. I have 3 outfits laid out on my bed, each a little different from the other. Outfit number one is some black high-waisted jeans, white vans and a nice long-sleeved white turtleneck. Outfit number two is some black dress pants with a scarlet dress shirt with some black Oxfords. The final outfit is some blue mom jeans, with a plain blue top, checked shirt to go loosely over the top and the white vans again. 

Wait outfit number one is out, can't wear white if I spill my food that stain is not coming out. Outfit number three is casual but I'm not really feeling it. So outfit two it is. Wow that was easy, sometimes I overthink way too much. It's ridiculous. I grab a nice black overcoat, with a fur collar to match the outfit, and pick out some rings to wear on my fingers and my metal chain around my neck. It's not really casual but it's also not a suit and tie, it's like in the middle and I am happy with that. I look at my watch, which holds so many memories, to see that it was 4 o'clock. I guess this is as good enough time as any to leave seen as Wanda was aiming for food to be ready for 7.

Dorogoy: Hi Wanda, just making sure you're still okay with me coming over early. 

Dorogoy: Also I see you changed my contact name, I like it 😉 going to have to change yours from Wanda to princess now.

Wanda: I should be offended that it isn't already that. And yes come over anytime.

~Wanda~ changed to ~Princess~

Princess: That's better. What time are you heading over?

Dorogoy: I am going to head out now so will be there about 4.30, maybe just after.

Princess: Perfect. Could you maybe bring a bottle of wine to go with the meal, I haven't had a chance to grab one after we drank my last one.

Dorogoy: Of course. Any preferences?

Princess: Whatever you think will go with the food. You have a better wine taste than me.

Dorogoy: A bottle of Chianti it is.

Princess: How much did this one cost you? 🤔😉

Dorogoy: no more than $180

Princess: Is that a lie so I don't freak out?

Dorogoy: No it's not Google it if you want.

Princess: No I trust you…Just...Anyway when are you leaving, I've missed you these couple of days.

Dorogoy: We have messaged each other everyday.

Princess: yes but I missed you, I like cuddling you, you're warm.

Dorogoy: And you are my cuddly Koala.

Princess: I am okay with that.

Dorogoy: Okay, well I'm in the car now so I will be at yours soon. Do you want anything from the shops as I am passing on my way?

Princess: Ice cream!! PLEASE!

Dorogoy: what flavor would you like?

Princess: Pumpkin please.

Dorogoy: interesting choice. See you soon princess.

Princess: What's interesting about my choice?

Dorogoy: Nothing, nothing at all just an observation.

Princess: hmmm…

Princess: See you soon, Dorogoy.

Dorogoy: xx

I hop into the Mustang, Wanda likes the car so might as well keep using it especially if I get to see her smile everytime she sees it. I make my way to the local ice cream parlor that sells ice cream by the gallons. I pull up at the front of the shop, the colorful sign Barton Family Ice cream welcoming me into the shop.

"Y/n!" The small child dashes towards me jumping into my arms as I spin him around, tickling his tummy until he is squirming to get away.

"Nathaniel! How are you trouble?" I place him back onto the ground and he wraps his arms and legs around my right leg and sits his butt on my shoe. 

"Did I hear you say Y/n?" I see Lila poke her head around the kitchen doorway and dashes over to me, hugging around my side before copying Nathaniel's position. I now have two little monsters wrapped around my legs.

"Hello Lila, How are you doing, angel?" She beems up at me at the nickname.

"I'm good, thank you. How are you?" She rests her chin on my knee as she looks up at me, so I ruffle some of her hair and she scowls at me.

"I'm good, thank you. Just here to grab some ice cream for me and a friend. Where is your other broth…?" Before I can finish my sentence I feel another little body wrap their arms around me but this time jumping on my back, luckily I stop myself from falling forward catching myself on the table next to me. "Woah, careful there Cooper I would have squished your siblings if I had fallen."

"Is that a bad thing?" He asks as he rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Yes it would." I look back to him sending him a wink and he muffles his laugh on my shoulder.

"Come on children, be careful. What have I said about these surprise attacks." Laura enters the room, hands on her hips trying to be stern but she can't help the small smile that grows on her face when she sees her children clinging to me.

"It's okay mom. How are you?" Now Laura makes her way over to me and hugs me from the front resting her head on my unoccupied shoulder.

"I'm well. You?" I use my left arm to rub up and down her back gently.

"I'm doing good, better even."

"Happy?"

"Very." 

I turn my head to look at the office as I hear the door close, and smile when I see the men who took me in when I was helpless enter the room. His eyes light up when he sees me and I see him almost melt at the sight of his family in a group cuddle. I use my free hand to wave him over to join in the group cuddling session. Clint wraps his arms around his wife lifting his chin to rest on the top of Laura's head. I like this, this is nice. 

"How are you honey?" Clint's voice is gentle, keeping the atmosphere calm in the cuddle.

"I'm good, thank you Dad. What about you? Keeping busy?" 

"Always. No rest for the wicked." We all let out a small laugh as we know he gets at least two days off during the week, but will still do paperwork.

Also I know what you're thinking. Laura my mom, Clint my dad! How because you're sisters with Carol? Yes I am. Clint and Laura are my mom and dad, not by blood but by choice. When Carol left at 16 to join the Air Force shit went downhill for me, but long story short I ran away from home at 12. Laura found me, and offered a place to stay because I was definitely not going back home. When I turned 18 they officially adopted me after I was estranged from my parent. 

Anyway….that's a story for another chapter…

"Alright, come on I have places to be I'm afraid. Just came here to get me and my friend some ice cream." Laura and Clint let go of me but the children remained wrapped around me so I shuffle across the shop floor making sure not to hurt the two children attached to my leg as I walk. Thank god for the gym.

"A friend, or a friend." Laura asks with a knowing smirk.

"A friend, I hope." I feel Nathaniel pull on my pant trouser, so look down giving him my full attention  

"What's the difference between friend and friend, because friend means friend." I look up to Laura to see if she is going to help me with this one but she just shrugs, great. I look back down to Nathaniel, I can see Lila with a small smirk and I can feel Cooper giggle into my shoulder.

"Well Nate a friend is like someone you hang out with, like Morgan from school. A friend is someone who is a bit more special and you want to do more than hang out." He hums out as he thinks about my answer, which probably wasn't very good.

"So you like a friend, but want to love a friend. Like mommy and daddy, or you and Steph, or you and Sarah!" I swallow the lump in my throat as Nathaniel smiles up at me.

"You remember Sarah." I look up at Clint and Laura who loom sympathetically at me.

"Yes. She was so pretty. Like a pretty princess." 

"She was, wasn't she?" I look up at the ceiling trying to stop the tears from falling.

"Right children that's enough, you have homework to do, so, upstairs. Say goodbye to y/n." Laura claps her hands to hurry the children along as they all give me hugs and small goodbyes and watch as they disappear upstairs. "I'm sorry about Nat, he doesn't quite understand."

"It's okay. Just surprised me he remembered he would have been like 2 when he first met her." She nods with a small smile. "Anyway. Could I get a tub of pumpkin ice cream, a plain chocolate one and also caramel." 

Laura turns to get the ice cream from the freezer, I turn to Clint who has an unreadable expression until it turns into a sad smile and he makes his way over to me bringing me into a tight hug. I finally let the tears fall, and a small sob escapes my mouth. He rubs his hands up and down my back, as I bury my face into his neck as he gently tries to calm me down.

"I miss her dad. So fucking much. I mean I can go for so long and be happy, but then some days I can't even leave the bed. It's been two years." 

"I know kiddo, I know. Nothing I can say will help but I am here whenever you need, and if you ever have a day where you can't move please phone me so I can at least feed you. Promise me you will call." He cups my face with his hands bringing it down as he stands on his tiptoes leaving a peck on my forehead.

"I promise dad." I wipe the tears from my gave, recovered from my little moment as Laura walks in with the three tubs of ice cream. She walks over to me also giving me a small peck, but on the cheek as she is even smaller than Clint. 

"Now does this new friend of yours know anything?" Laura questions.

"No, we have known each other for a week. I'm not ready."

"And that's okay. Just make sure you do tell her, she will figure something is out next month when you disappear to visit her." Clint speaks softly as he gives me fatherly advice.

"I will dad. Thank you." A take in a deep breath, taking the ice cream from Laura. "Right, I'm off. I will see you next week for dinner. Love you mom, love you too dad."

"We love you sweety. Be safe." Laura blows me a kiss as I leave the ice cream parlor. Time to get to Wanda's. 

I climb into my car once again releasing a sob, louder than the last, just glad I had slightly tinted windows so no one outside the car could really see me. I hit the steering wheel a couple of times, hard, until I heard and felt a pop. I placed my free hand over my mouth muffling the small pained shout I let out, as I most definitely just dislocated my thumb. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Resting my forehead against the top of the steering wheel preparing for what I had to do next, I am not going to Wanda's with a dislocated thumb and I am most definitely not going to hospital. 

I sit back in my seat taking a few deep breaths as I grab the tip of my thumb in my other hand. I put my fingers of my damaged hand between my legs, squeezing them shut so it wouldn't move about so much when I popped it back in place.

"1...2...3…" I gritted my teeth as I heard and felt another pop, now able to move my thumb. It was sore, but it was no longer dislocated. A few tears escaped my eyes which I wiped away quickly looking in the mirror to check my make-up.

Thank God for waterproof make-up.

================================

[bildad-the-shuhite-official]

Ineffable Husbands Human AU- Fic recommendations

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll T, 6k, human au, ineffable wives, meet-cute, artist!crowley Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo T, 9k, human au, meet-cute, university, professor crowley, ice cream man aziraphale, first date, fluff Every afternoon, a man in a velvet waistcoat sits on the bench by the stone fountain and eats ice cream. Every afternoon, Crowley watches him from his office window. One day, he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to him.

Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds M, 12k, human AU, chronic illness, chronic pain, hurt/comfort, bathing/washing, domestic fluff, childhood friends to lovers After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.

Easy by mozbee M, 18k, human au, snowed in, one night stand, insecure aziraphale, minor injuries, minor fatshaming While driving to his father's funeral, Aziraphale stops for the night at an inn, indulges in a rather whirlwind sexual encounter, and plans to take his leave very early the next morning. And then the snowstorm hits.And then the snowstorm hits.

How My Light is Spent by Azira_Amane E, 19k, blind!crowley, disability, coffee shop au, happy ending, hook ups, fluff, body worship, chubby aziraphale Navigating the dating world when you can't see it can be tricky. For Crowley, that was never a problem; he's usually too busy to contemplate a relationship. The same goes for Aziraphale, though he doesn't have Crowley's excuse - he just isn't really all that much into people as a whole. One chance meeting on Crowley's usual route home changes all that.

Anthony of Arcadia by Azira_Amane E, 19k, 19th century, human AU, farmer!Crowley, scholar!Aziraphale, tadfield, kidfic, disability, chronic pain Anthony Crowley is a farm owner with an old injury, a prickly temper, and a young new farmhand to raise alongside his flock. Ezra Fell is a former Oxford scholar who retired far sooner than he would have liked, finding himself in the idyllic village of Taddesfild. After a tense first meeting, they soon discover they are more alike than different. An English countryside AU, set very loosely somewhere around the 1800s.

Along the Changing Tide by NaroMoreau E, 53k, Human AU, summer romance, a hell lot of smut, fluff, night walks Aziraphale and Crowley meet at Anathema's beach house as guests for the summer. Neither of them think they're ready for a relationship but when they find themselves sharing a room, things will get complicated. A getting together, summer romance.

[disappointmentthemusical]

grammar basics

punctuation

commas are only used:

to separate two independent clauses with a conjunction, e.g., "I went to the park, and and I ate ice cream, so I'd say it was a pretty good day." (A sentence like: "I think we should leave and go home" does not need a comma because the second phrase, "and go home," is a dependent clause.)

to surround nonessential information. This is anything that is not vital to the sentence. Essential vs. nonessential information examples: a. "He drove by a row of houses, which were packed tightly together." vs. "He drove by a row of houses that were packed tightly together." "Which" is indicative of nonessential information, which requires use of a comma, while "that" is used for essential information and does not use a comma. b. "And then she ran to hug her wife, Sarah." vs. "And then she ran to hug her wife Sarah." If the subject has only one wife, then the name and title are separated by a comma. But if the subject has many wives, and it must be clarified which wife she's hugging, then the name is essential and does not have a comma. This is true for anything: friends, parents, siblings, coworkers, etc.

for lists. USAmerican journalism does not allow the Oxford comma, but it doesn't matter in other fields, so long as it's consistent.

after an exact date or location is given. Example: "We met on Aug. 13, 2001, and fell in love immediately, but I had to catch a bus to Beaufort, South Carolina, to meet my fiance's family."

Semicolons are used:

to separate two similar independent clauses without a conjunction. Example: "He smirked meanly; it was always so easy to rile his sister." (NOTE: The correct alternative to this sentence is to split it into two, not use a comma; that would be a comma splice.)

for lists, for clarity. Examples: "When I was at grandma's house, I ate green beans; shrimp and grits; and macaroni and cheese"; "When we get home we need to do the laundry; make sure Roger is OK with everyone coming over and ask about his stereo; clean the kitchen; and bury the body." (NOTE: While it's up to preference whether to include the Oxford comma, use the semicolon after each list item.)

Ellipses are only used:

to indicate that part of a quote has been taken out.

Em-dashes are used:

to indicate a pause, e.g. "The kid looked – strange." NOT "The kid looked... strange."

to include nonessential information or give an aside. E.g., "And when I saw her in that dress – blue, just like her eyes – I felt my heart stop."

turns of phrase and redundancies

It's only "whether," NOT "whether or not" – that's redundant.

"Try to" NOT "try and."

Toward, forward, onward, etc., NOT towards, forwards, onwards, etc.

Regarding, with regard to, in regard to. (Never "regards.")

"Unexpected surprise" – all surprises are unexpected.

"Heavy in weight" – so it's heavy.

"X colored" – just say the color.

numbers

Spell out numbers 0-9, and use numerals for 10 and above. This includes things like the fifth and the 11th.

Use numerals for all ages, and hyphenate it. Examples: "His eldest grandchild is 36-years-old, but his youngest is not yet 3-months-old!"

Use numerals for height and measurements, e.g., "The gnome stood proudly at 1-foot and 3-inches tall."; "The dude's got to be at least 6-foot-5."

[surveilenceysystem]

「 MIRAGE 」

Character(s): Ateez x Fem!reader

Synopsis: The past is often times better left in the past. But what happens when it holds the key to the future.

Trope: Hero's journey

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi, Action.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter 1: Lingering habits

Trigger Warning: Smoking, Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Physical and mental illness, brief mentions of death, Mentions of a missing person, suggestion of abduction, Angst.

Divider: @cafekitsune

Network: @cromernet , @wonderlandnet , @cultofdionysusnet , @sandsofire

WC: 1k

A/n: I'm doing it I'm finally doing it.

For the past three years Choi San hasn't seen a single day where the sky wasn't darkened by clouds, masking the sunlight with a thick cover of storm clouds that seems intimidating as if it was threatening to bring down the heavens wrath on the land. A fury that the ocean under imitated. Violent sounds of waves breaking against rocks and cliffs and the smell of salt are carried by a cold wind laced with melancholy as he watches the waves crash against the shore, lapping around his Oxfords.

Choi San has been going to the beach every single day for the last three years. In fact, he turned it into a routine to stand by the shoreline as nightfall gradually approached and have a cigarette. His weak resolution actually led to the beginning of this habit; he had once read somewhere that it takes 66 days to create a habit and probably motivated by curiosity or need, he drove the fifteen minutes from his apartment to the beach in order to kick the smoking habit since it seemed especially hard to quit it just like that. Maybe the view would inspire him, he had thought.

That was a mere eight-day attempt. By the ninth day, his commitment to quit morphed to an episode of "self care" during which he would simply sit by the coastline and smoke. What was the reason? He had given it some thought. He was an adult who consciously chose to follow this terrible plan. One cigarette a day, as though it separated him from the rest. Ultimately, it will be fatal for him. One cigarette or an entire pack. Fuck it, it is what it is, the nihilist in him had said.

For him, nothing was truly significant anymore. Given his profession and the circumstances of the past few years, his life has effectively desensitised him to everything. He no longer experiences the happiness he once had. He no longer finds anything exciting. He's just surviving now, not living. using muscle memory to execute the steps. Mentally not quite there. He just came into existence. And nobody would notice his absence if he simply walked into the ocean in front of him. He was very aware of this.

It hadn't always been like that, actually this mindset of his was a recent development. Back then he was the most fun person in the room. He was the guy everyone went to if they needed anything fun. There were times in his life where his friends had woken him up at 2 in the morning and dragged him to a party because it was boring without him apparently. Hours that would go by where he and his friends would just fuck around in an empty parking lot of a store. He used to feel like that happiness would last forever. Well it clearly didn't.

Choi Jongho vanished in the summer of 2019. That day was fresh in San's memory like a new wound. It had been unbearably hot that August day—in fact, the heat and humidity had persisted throughout the whole week. San remembered sitting outside their neighbourhood convenience store with friends—people that day. After a dramatic game of rock, paper, scissors, Jongho lost and was assigned the honour of getting ice cream from the shop that was across the street.

San remembers when Jongho went into the shop, he loudly declared that he would lick each and every ice cream cone before giving it to them. He remembers that when Jongho was threatening them, everyone, even himself, was giggling at how adorable he looked. He remembers that after waiting for a long time, four of them entered the parlour before running out to let everyone know that Jongho was gone from the store.

Everyone initially believed that Jongho left them because he was angry with them. But as soon as the search party was sent out that evening, that theory was promptly abandoned. Despite the efforts of local volunteers, friends from university, and Jongho's parents, no one was able to find him. No amount of questioning or searching turned up any information. His case was eventually closed.

For him and the others, everything went downhill after that day. Jongho's parents soon left that town. They chose to leave the place where everything transpired because they were unable to cope with their one and only child going missing. And then it was as if all hell had broken loose. Within the friend circle, fights started to break out. They found a way to harm and accuse one another, whether it was by physical or verbal means. It felt like their very minds were being poisoned by that awful place. And on one day where the fights got particularly violent, Seonghwa had cursed everyone out– no, he outright screamed. His eyes were red from angry tears as he kept screaming how much he hated us. How he was done with everything here. Said that he'd rather die than see our faces ever again.

He left that night for the States.

Two days after Seonghwa's departure, San went apologise to him for everyone and found out about him leaving from the neighbour. It was like a kick to the gut. For something he hadn't even done, he felt terrible. But soon after, the melancholy gave way to anger toward the elder boy. He remembers meeting with everyone and telling them about it. He remembers Hongjoong laughing, saying that Seonghwa was a coward and all he could do was run away from problems. He remembers punching Hongjoong so hard that his knuckles felt numb. And he also remembers that was the last time he ever saw any of them.

He had effectively ruined his friendships with all of his friends from his past that day.

So imagine Choi San's surprise when one of those names from the past had suddenly sent him a message.

A message so oddly upsetting that he had finished a whole pack of cigarettes by the shoreline with no care of how his legs and back were wet from the salt water whatsoever.

(00)+419698327: They are reopening Jongho's case and want all of us back in the town for questioning— J.W

[aemonds-wifey]

An Unexpected Summer Meeting

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Late Summer 1939, you have plans that are swiftly changed when you are sent away to stay with family and the threat of War looms…

Summer was finally here and your heart was full of prosper yet uneasy flickers danced there occasionally. Talks of war enveloped the city of Oxford, your hometown. As you left the local small library to catch the bus home to Cholsey your thoughts dwelled on meeting George later, the man you were courting. On your bus ride home you checked your watch on your right wrist. Only a few hours until you saw him.

He was tall, hair as black as deep beautiful night sky, he was broad chested as he enjoyed rowing- part of the Oxford University rowing team , he has a delicate yet attractive face with dark brown eyes. He was studying philosophy and often he would talk to you about his studies , he was hoping to stay in Oxford after his studies were finished and he had ambitions of becoming a professor.

Even though you had only met a month ago you liked him, you hoped it was going to develop more. He had come into the bodleian library. He came in on the first few days of August looking for a book on Karl Marx and with a sense of shyness asked for your assistance and before he left he has asked to see you later that evening. Which you happily agreed to. You had spent the evening walking by the river, each enjoying an ice cream and talking about your lives. But he wanted to see you again, and you felt an attraction develop to him.

You had the whole summer to spend with him. You picked out days and activities to do, go to summer fairs, the beach and he even mentioned introducing you to his parents. Daunting at first but something you anticipated with equal amount of excitement .

You lived by the train station in Cholsey, your house was small but bigger than some others you had seen. Your father worked as a teacher and your mother worked in a wool shop near the local church. As you reached home you opened the door, you strolled through the hallway and looked to your left to see your parents both sat at the table with cups by their fingers- a serious demeanor written over their faces.

“What is it?” You asked as you put your coat on the wall.

“Sit down please Y/N.”

You were alarmed but obeyed with a soft laugh” what’s going on?”

Your father cleared his throat “Look we’ve been talking and erm…”

You paused , in all your years knowing your parents you knew that nothing good usually came from a consecration that started with ‘we’ve been talking’ .

“We know you have plans this summer with that boy but…we “ your father started

You sighed “Of course…there’s a but …”

“Y/N don’t interrupt your father..” your mother sternly said.

You kept quiet , looking back at your father.

“There’s all sorts of uneasy talk at the moment and we ..just want you to take some time away from everything …you work too hard .”

“Where are you planning on sending me?” You asked folding your arms.

“Your uncle Norman in Manchester he has offered to put you up.” Your mother said.

You had only met your uncle a handful of times, nice enough man but the idea of spending a few weeks with him was confusing.

“Why aren’t we all going? He’s your brother.” You said to your mother.

Your mother looked at your father and he only nodded “The unsettling political state of Europe and we have seen this before…War will come Y/N.”

You huffed in annoyance.

“And we know…how you feel about war.” Your mother said almost disapprovingly .

You almost scowled “I don’t approve of war and your banishing me for having a thought of my own? Is that it?”

“Certainly not we admire your …straight forward thinking even if it is brass sometimes but no it’s not your pacifism dear.” Your mother answered.

“What’s this really about? You don’t approve of George? You haven’t even met him..” you said

“It’s not about the boy it’s -“ your mother started

“He’s not a boy he’s 22.” You snapped

“And you’re only 18!” Your father bellowed .

“I’m a grown woman!” You protested

“Y/N listen to us. We want to help out with whatever preparations may come and …times may get tough …we only want you to be safe.” Your mother said.

You got your feet in an angry stomp but looked at your parents silently “I do not want to go…I have a life…George I…”

Your mother nodded “I know…but if George is a good, decent man he will understand and wait for you …”

You sighed heavily feeling betrayed and confused , you were scared to tell George but not telling him would be just cruel. And your mother was right, if he was a good honest man he would understand.

You father leaned over and delicately clasped your hand “We have already lived through one war Y/N…we certainly Prayed that it would never happen again but…it looks to be inevitable …and we only want you to be safe if - when it happens. We are not banishing you far from it. Just ..until things settle…”

You sighed very calmly, slowly sitting back down in the table you retracted your hand from your fathers grasp and looked at the table with a vacant expression “how long?”

They both looked at you, the answer did not calm you one bit. The Summer you had planned with George was now a but a distant dream..and now you had to leave him before any firm relationship could begin

🍃

“How long?” George asked with his back against the bark and your head rested against his shoulder, you sighed deeply “Five weeks. My train leaves in the morning.”

“That will take it to almost October!” He said rolling his eyes

You had met him in the grounds of an old house named Basildon, it was not the grandest of old stately homes but it was practically abandoned. As the sun began to bow lower and lower into the sky you both knew time was ticking away, but you both didn’t want to move. His arm around your shoulder firmly but gently palmed over your upper arm. You could see the trains distantly passing by through gaps in the bushes and heavy trees, a reminder of where you would be tomorrow.

George tutted “Oh Y/N why? Why send you away?”

You shrugged “I do not know, my parents they are…”’you sighed lost for words to describe your frustration “they are wanting to do their part if we do go to war….and they want me out of the way. That is pretty much what it feels like.”

“You don’t approve of war do you? “ he asked

You nodded in agreement “I do not ..it’s barbaric and needless . Yet I feel like I’m being treat like a criminal for objecting .”

He exhaled “You know I am a pacifist too…and it’s easy to be demonized …we want peace yet we are punished with conflict.”

The way he spoke was like a musical note that let your heart dance, he was so clever with words you could listen to him talk for hours or even days.

George looked down at you for a moment “Do they…is it me?”

“No not all all George.” You answered

“So your parents think I have not corrupted your mind with philosophical nonsense ?” He laughed slightly.

His humor brought you a small comfort, but you admired his effort to remain upbeat.

You shook your head “No…it is not us they just. They’ve lived through one war and they just want me to be out of harms way whilstt they prepare

George squeezed your arm “Where are they sending you? Derby isn’t it?.”

You shook your head “Manchester.”

“Oh god…I did not know you had family so far away.” He said almost shocked

“Says the man who is originally from Devon, not exactly down the road is it?” You joked.

He laughed “alright yes I suppose …seven weeks though . We have only just started seeing each other !”

You looked up at him “I know…we can write to each other . “

He nodded “We can…our summer plans have changed but we can still write.”

You rested your head against his shoulder again, enjoying the cool summer breeze that blew past you . Under the tree you had a moment of serenity before George nudged you calmly

“Let’s meet here in seven weeks…and pick up from this moment?”

You sighed heavily again “but all our plans…I had so much planned for us George…” you started

“We can do them another time…” he started

“But what if war does happen?” You asked

He shrugged “we will figure it out …I promise.”

You nodded and lifted your head and met his deep brown eyes , he gazed into your sea green eyes and for a moment you were sure he was to kiss you, instead he quickly Planted a kiss on your forehead . Disappointed with the lack of affection you said nothing, musing about what tomorrow would bring and how you were wound up with dread about the next seven weeks.

These thoughts Continued to dwell on your mind on the train journey to Manchester. You held a small fragment of paper in your hands, the address George had wrote down for you, both his home in Oxford and his parents house in case. You spotted Basildon house not long after your journey began , closing your eyes briefly and remembering the serenity you felt with George in that evening before you departed. Your journey was nearly over, The conductor appeared strolled up the carriages

“We’ll be arriving in a few moments into Manchester Piccadilly please remember all your belongings .”

You sighed and looked out the window as the train’s speed started to ease , approaching the station your heart was heavy with sadness. You should not be here, you should be getting to know George better , waking hand in hand along the promenade. As the train jerked to a clumsy stop you exhaled and got to your feet. Here you were. Manchester .

Chapter 2

TAGS

@schniiipsel @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @dothrckis @mischiefmanaged71