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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! 👿 jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

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cipher-the-sidhe · 9 months

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Based on @pure-plum’s prompt: First gifts between Sun, Moon, and the diver.

(I also want to do that other prompt, but haven’t gotten to it 👀)

What the Tide Keeps AU, Moon-centric

word count: 1,984

You have a shelf in your apartment dedicated to the growing collection of gifts Sun has given you. A few tiny, beautiful shells he’d managed to save when they washed into his enclosure with the tide. The long, pristine flight feathers of a seagull that had gotten a little too close to the surface of the water. Then, once he’d been able to get out into open water they’d evolved. Bits of sun-bleached coral, sparking sea glass, and even a single, gleaming pearl that he’d presented to you with a look of deepest adoration.

They all sit neatly arranged, along with an over-exposed polaroid selfie you’d taken with the golden mer. It makes you smile every time you see it.

Another shelf sits blank on the other side of your bed, save for a blurry photo of your other charge taken from above, swimming through a patch of fading sunlight. Moon hasn’t seemed interested in gift-giving the way Sun is, but you feel like it’d be favoritism not to have a place for him here, the way you do his counterpart.

That’s not to say there hasn’t been progress. Moon has come a long way from the snarling, snapping creature that you’d first met. He seems to trust you now, at least. Well, for the most part. He still has a tendancy to shy away from your touch, outside of medical care, which he holds himself ridigly still for in a way that makes your heart clench in mourning for the abuse he and Sun have had ot endure.

He doens’t seem to have a probem touching you, on the other hand. Quite the opposite. Which is why you’re currently pinned under the heavy length of a rough, shark-like tail drapped over your lap, with a blue-black and silver arm wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms down at your sides. Moon has your back pressed snug against his chest and his chin resting against the top of your head, a low, constant sound somewhere between a purr and a growl vibrating his chest. You strain your neck trying to catch a glimpse at his expression. His ruby eyes are narrowed into thin, sleepy slits but you can see that his pupils are angled away from you. Well, until he senses you staring at him. Then, he glares at you with a grumble and his maw opens in a wide yawn, showing off his dual rows of razor-sharp shark teeth. He presses his chin into your hair, forcing you to look down and away from his face. You give in with a good humored huff. Best not to push your luck with him.

It’s an hour past sunrise, long past his usual bedtime. Sun has made himself comfortable on his usual flat rock near the shore of the cove, warming himself in the first golden rays of morning. You fight the urge to stroke Moon’s tail where it rests over your lap (making your legs fall asleep more every minute, but you allow it), knowing that, unlike Sun’s smoothe scales, Moon’s rough skin would cut up your hands like sandpaper. Instead, you lean your head back against him and hum softly.

“ You’re up pretty late, Moonshine. Something on your mind?”

He gives no indication that he heard you. That’s okay. You know to be patient with him.

It’s another several minutes before he responds at all, and even then it’s not with words. He shifts with arm holding you up to your shoulder, flopping backwards and taking you down with him, rolling onto his side in the sand and curling around you with a deep sigh that he muffles in your hair. His other hand in pressed in a fist against the sand, stretched out in front of the two of you.

You chuckle and pat the arm holding you in a steel trap against the midnight mer.

“Moon, honey, as cozy as this is you really shouldn’t fall asleep out of the water like this. We don’t want you getting any more sunburns.”

You keep your voice playful, but there’s an underlying concern you don’t fully manage to mask. It’s hard not to think about the weeks of painful treatment he and Sun had had to endure for the blistering sunburns they’d suffered. Moon’s had been worse by far, being a creature not meant for hours of prolonged sun exposure like his counterpart. There are still scars healing on his shoulders and back, months later.

Moon grumbles and coils closer over you, his tail fin slapping the water where it rests in an agitation you don’t understand the cause for.

“Hush,” he rasps into your hair, claws plucking thoughtlessly at the collar of your shirt in a familiar, resltess fidget.

Your brow furrows. Something is clearly bothering him, but what? You’d thought the night had gone really well, actually. From the time you’d shown up at midnight to now Moon had seemed to be in a remarkably good mood, relaxed and playful (meaning you’d gotten yanked into the water more than a couple of times, but hearing his hissing laughter had been well worth it). It wasn’t until shortly before sunrise, when he’d usually be curling up in a shaded part of the cove over a bed of soft sea grass, that he’d started acting agitated. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes, even though he became especially clingy. And while his verbal responses were usually pretty short and clipped, certianly less verbose than Sun, even that had been reduced to only one or two word replies, when he deigned to reply with words at all. He didn’t seem to be mad at you, but his sudden withdrawl is making you nervous none the less. Had you done something wrong?

You debate with yourself which is better: to relent and indulge whatever mood this is for a while longer, or to gently encourage him to talk. You don’t want to push him too much, but if you don’t nudge him now and then you don’t know if he’ll progress.

You decide to push, just a little.

You stretch your hand out towards the fist he has extended from you two and press your fingertips featherlight against the underside of his wrist in gentle encouragement.

“Moon?”

In a blink, his hand captures yours, one finger and his thumb pressing the back of your hand into the sand while the other two fingers stay curled closed. You feel the sharp edge of soemthing in his hand pressing into your palm, just barely, but you can’t focus on it for long because Moon cranes his head down and nips at your ear, sharp teeth barely scraping your skin but the clipped snap of his teeth right by your ear making you yelp anyways.

“M-Moon!”

His gravelly chuckle cast moist, salt-scented breath over your ear and blood rushes to your cheeks in a furious burn. You grumble, indignant and embarassed but secretly relieved to hear his laughter.

“That was entirely unncessary.”

“Pushy. Nosy.” His voice is a teasing purr nuzzled against the side of your head, despite his words, and he unfurls the rest of his fingers to lace his with yours, his much larger webbed hand dwarfing yours and completely obscuring the small object he presses into your palm as he drags your joined hands through the sand closer to you both.

You bite your tongue to keep from sputtering at the onslaught of unexpected affection, but you can feel your face heating more. You squeeze his hand, feeling the edges of the thing in your palm. It’s sharp, and feels triangular.

“Only a little. I was woried about you, you giant fishstick,” you huff, but the smile is audible in your voice.

Moon’s answering laugh is a raspy wheeze and you yelp, flailing a bit, as he rolls over so he’s on his back again and you’re laying right on top of him, held fast by his unrelenting grip over your waist. He grins up at you with a bear-trap maw and mischief in his sleepy crimson eyes.

You rest your chin on his chest and squint at him in suspicion.

“Whatcha got here,” you ask, giving the hand he still has entwined with his own a little shake.

His smile strains a bit at the edges, but he presses the mystery object into your palm and slide his hand away from your’s, looping it around your waist to join his other arm. His eyes soften looking at you, pupils fading until they’re almost indistinguishable from the brighter red of the rest of his eye.

“For you,” he says, blinking slowly and a little out of synch. You feel the corner of your mouth twitch into a smile at how cute his sleepy expression is before you register what he actually said.

You wrap your fingers around the little object and pull it close to inspect it. “For me?”

In your palm is a sharp, pearly shark tooth, curved and perfect and familiar. You glance back up at Moon and he flashes you a grin full of two rows of the very same kind of teeth. You mouth pops open in a little ‘o’ of surprise, lookign back and forth between the tooth in your hand and his face.

“A gift,” he expalins, and the claws on your back fidget, betraying his quiet anxiety.

You run your thumb over the smoothe, shiny surface of the tooth, admiring it. “This is one of your’s?”

Claws gently tap against your spine, and he nods, watching your reaction. You don’t need to play it up at all. You beam up at him in pure, honest delight, clasping the tooth close to your chest.

“It’s beautiful! Thank you, Moonshine.”

He only grumbles, looking away from you, but you see the way the white frills that frame his face perk up and shiver in delight, and you can hear the water stirr at the twitch of his tail fin.

Without warning, Moon shifts his grip on you and slide you off of him and into the sand, flipping so that he’s looming over you, the nightcap-like appendage on the back of his head draping over his shoulder and swaying next to your cheek with a faint glow. He grins down at you and chuckles at your surprised expression before reaching a clawed finger up and bopping you on the tip of the nose with it.

“It’s time to sleep,” he hums, tilting his head to-and-fro so that the bulb on his appendage taps you on the cheek with each movement. You playfully bat it away and he grins.

“Nighty night, Moon.” You smile up at him, clutching his gift close to your chest.

His expression upturns and he taps his forehead against your’s (a first, and it makes your mind blue screen for a solid minute) before leaning away and pulling himself back into the water. He lashes his tail fin as he turns to go, spraying you with a splash of salt water. You sptter and toss a handful of sand after him, but you can’t stiffle your laughter. The tooth feels warm in your hand.

That night when you’re crawling into bed you glance over at the shelves you have set aside for your mers. Sun’s little treasure trove of carefully, lovingly selected gifts almost crowd out his shelf, and you heart swells with warmth and appreciation as you realize you may need to put up another shelf for his gifts. On the other side is Moon’s shelf, and sitting right in the center, right in front of the photo of him, is one of his own teeth. He’s never been much for gift-giving, for finding just the right trinkets to show his affection. But this was something of his, only his, and he gave it to you.

You fall asleep with the stupidest smile on your face.

#what the tide keeps au #what the tide keeps #mer!moon #mermaid!moon #mer!sun #mermaid!sun #moon x reader #just shameless fluff while I work on the main fic #fnaf dca #dca fandom

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gffa · 5 months

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Be proud of me, you guys. I got kind of knocked down the last week because of shark week and some bad reactions to food I ate, which had me utterly wiped, so today has seen me: - Get six hours of sleep, go me! - Up to over 4,000 bookmarks on AO3, where I'm probably halfway through the Star Wars stuff and then I can wrap up with the DC stuff. It took longer than I expected because I was doing some external bookmarks for some of my favorite X/Tokyo Babylon and Weiss Kreuz and Bleach fic, but mostly it's just that I've read A LOT of Star Wars fic. orz - Half an hour of exercise which was actually really hard considering how wiped I was, but I did it! - Finally started cleaning out the fridge and getting rid of the perfect temp (so cold it's on the edge of icing over) soda, you guys don't know how hard that was to let go, I love that stuff, it was exactly how I liked it, but I am determined to cut out the caffeine and aspartame. But. So hard to let go!!! - Six more bags of garbage on top of the usual stuff and about five more (little) boxes (of so much detailed stuff you have to go through piece by piece) to donate. - Finished Iron Widow and I would like Heavenly Tyrant to be out now, please. Currently, I'm trying to psych myself up to get back to cleaning the fridge again, I started Jade City by Fonda Lee and am enjoying it a lot so far, and now it's time to relax with stupid on-line stuff, I have a whole bunch of podcasts and video essays to catch up on!

#lumi.txt

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love-me-a-lotta-whump · 8 months

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Beaten - Whump Lists

A list of whump lists I've made where the whumpee is beaten. (May also include when the whumpee is shown after a beating)

DRAMAS

🇰🇷Korea

Duel >> {x}

He Is Psychometric >> {x}

Just Between Lovers >>> {x}

W: Two Worlds >>> {x}

I Hear Your Voice/I Can Hear Your Voice >>> {x}

Memorist >>> {x}

Sweet Home >>> {x}

Sweet Home Season 2 >>> {x}

Two Weeks >>> {x}

The Uncanny Counter >>> {x}

Lawless Lawyer >>> {x}

Flower of Evil >>> {x}

School 2013 >>> {x}

The Arthdal Chronicles >>> {x}

Move to Heaven >>> {x}

Sell Your Haunted House >>> {x}

At A Distance, Spring Is Green >>> {x}

The K2 >>> {x}

One Ordinary Day >>> {x}

All Of Us Are Dead >>> {x}

The King’s Affection >>> {x}

Come and Hug Me >>> {x}

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes >>> {x}

Children of Nobody >>> {x}

Snowdrop >>> {x}

Alice, The Final Weapon >>> {x}

Bad Guys >>> {x}

Big Mouth >>> {x}

Blind >>> {x}

Connect >>> {x}

Revenge of Others >>> {x}

The Tale of Nokdu >>> {x}

Iljimae >>> {x}

Island >>> {x}

Doubtful Victory >>> {x}

Black Knight >>> {x}

Joseon Attorney: A Morality >>> {x}

Bloodhounds >>> {x}

D.P. Season 2 >>> {x}

🇨🇳China

The Untamed >> {x}

Reunion: The Sound of The Providence >> {x}

Prodigy Healer >>> {x}

Sand Sea >>> {x}

Broker >>> {x}

Fall In Love With Him >>> {x}

Back From the Brink >>> {x}

🇯🇵Japan

Siren >>> {x}

Bitter Blood >>> {x}

Ouroboros >>> {x}

Aozora No Tamago >>> {x}

Hiru (Season 1) >>> {x}

Smoking >>> {x}

The Killer Inside >>> {x}

King’s Game >>> {anime}

Chainsaw Man >>> {anime}

🇹🇭Thailand

Not Me >>> {x}

Bad Guys >>> {x}

------+------

MOVIES

🇰🇷Korea

Psychometry >>> {x}

Blind >>> {x}

Pipeline >>> {x}

Fabricated City >>> {x}

Time to Hunt >>> {x}

Project Wolf Hunting >>> {x}

Christmas Carol >>> {x}

Remember >>> {x}

Shark: The Beginning >>> {x}

🇨🇳China

The Witness >>> {x}

🇯🇵Japan

Blind Witness >>> {x}

Bleach >>> {x}

🇺🇸USA

Shattered >>> {x}

------+------

EPISODE HIGHLIGHTS

🇰🇷Korea

Abyss >>> {x}

Melancholia >>> {x}

Youth of May >>> {x}

The Great Seducer >>> {x}

The Good Detective >>> {x}

#whump list library #whump list directory #asian whump #asianwhump #whumplist #whump list #sub-list

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abubblingcandle · 6 months

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Okay hit me with some info on The Prodigal Father Returns and/or Sleep is for the Weak or Sleep for the Week? (But also always happy to hear more about Roll Call if that strikes your fancy more).

Thanks! Done Sleep is for the Weak or Sleep for the Week from another ask so I'll focus on The Prodigal Father Returns.

So in my Jamie Lasso AU series, it finishes with Henry coming to play at Richmond and then that got me thinking that if Henry comes to play in Richmond then officially all of Ted's family is back in London. So why doesn't Ted come back to London? The fic follows Ted moving back to Richmond and trying to find his place there again after ten years.

"Ted!" is the screech that welcomes him as he steps out into arrivals. His neck is tight as anything after all those hours on a plane and all he wants to do is jump into bed. But he was back in London. Before he can react, Ted is bundled up in a hug and lifted up off the floor in a spin. "Can't believe you're back, and for good," Jamie beamed when he finally dropped a grinning Ted back down onto the floor. "Good to see you too baby shark," Ted reached up to ruffle Jamie's hair like he used to and titled his head in confusion at the new bleached blonde locks. "New look, makes me look well sexy," Jamie preened causing a peal of laughter to come out of Ted.

#candle writes #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #jamie tartt #tag game #ask box is always open

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soulless-bleach · 9 months

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🦈Soifon and shortfin makos for shark week🦈

Fun fact shortfin makos are considered the fastest species of shark with top speeds at 45 miles per hour (75 kilometers)

#bleach #bleach fanart #bleach brave souls #shark week #bleach shark week #soi fon #sui feng #shortfin mako shark #these sharks are not an accurate size btw #they can actually get around 12ft #double fun facts

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hannahssimblr · 6 months

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Chapter Three

I’ve taken to my sketchbook this summer. I bring it down to the beach every morning, and after my eight o’clock swim I sit on my beach towel and draw for about an hour. Sometimes I draw from my imagination, and sometimes I draw from life. If there’s a person walking along the shore I will challenge myself to capture them in a few rapid strokes of my pencil before they’ve moved too far away for me to continue, or if a house is cast in interesting light that day I’ll try to capture it with a few fluid strokes of paint from my travel watercolour kit and a thick brush. I don’t show my drawings to anybody because I’d be too embarrassed to, but they aren’t for anybody else either. I don’t paint or draw to get approval, it feels like the one area of my life where I can be free of judgement, able to create something without being marked or graded or compared to somebody else.

I usually work on my sketchbook until my phone alarm buzzes at half past nine. This is the time that I know Kelly and Claire will be getting out of bed and I’m usually starving by then anyway. I meet them back at the mobile home and we walk together into the village cafe to buy a bag of pastries and cups of hot coffee for breakfast.

“It’s cloudy.” Kelly observes one morning in early July. We amble over the sandy boardwalk towards the beach and settle in together onto a bench outside the local surf shack.

“Not a day for the beach” Claire agrees, looking up at the sky, a woolly grey shawl wrapped around the cliffs. It had been clear and bright earlier, but a mist had settled in during the last hour and blurred the sea and sky into one . I wonder what we’ll do today if we won’t be hanging out on the beach again. I tell them that the water is still warm, and if they want to go for a swim it might be nice all the same, but they disagree. The clouds furthest away are black and filled with rain, and neither of them wants to get their hair wet.

The village is so much busier this week now that the primary school children have finished up for the summer. Small children and families mill about, a constant stream going in and out of the surf shack, buying ice cream cones and slotting coins into arcade machines. There’s something very retro about this place, the kind of sun bleached seaside haunt that looks as though it’s sat here in the sand unchanged for fifty years. The Beach Boys are playing over the speakers and a middle aged man with white hair and a Hawaiian style shirt is serving coffees and bags of chips over the counter inside as he sings along. The shelves behind him are stacked with bottles of suncream, cans of fizzy drinks, first aid implements, and T-Shirts that all feature the same cartoonish shark with a wide grin. They truly have everything.

The Hawaiian shirt man comes out to the front of the shack to add a poster to the community notice board and gives us a grin when Kelly calls out a hello to him.

“Well girls.” He says and ambles over towards us, moving in that slow, easy way that people who live on the beach year round do. “Lovely weather eh?”

“Yeah sure.” Kelly snorts. “Grand auld day.”

“Nice one for the surf though.” He looks over his shoulder where a line of children in wetsuits are heading towards the shore. It’s true, the waves are bigger now than they have been since the storm last week. “Ye wouldn’t think of signing up for the camp would you?” We laugh, clearly the surf camp is not intended for girls our age.

“I see that Liam is helping out with it again this year.” Kelly says, gesturing to a young man loading surfboards into a beach buggy behind us. “Good on him. He’s got his work cut out with all these children running around. ”

The boy who is apparently called Liam hears this, and he calls out to us from the surfboard shed. “Havoc, sure they go mad once the boards are brought out, most of the work is to control the crowd.” He has a boyish grin and classic surfer looks. His curly blonde hair is lighter than the tan on his face, and a tiny scar above his eyebrow stands out white against golden brown. He comes over and places a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, shaking him playfully. “Skiving off again are you dad? Out here chatting shite to the women as usual.”

He smiles at us “Good to have you back again Kelly, and you’ve brought some friends?”

“Yes,” She says. “Liam, this is Evie and Claire, Evie and Claire, this is Liam. And his dad Anthony.” Liam shakes our hands, and I feel shy when he looks at me. His eyes are very blue.

“Will you all be coming to the karaoke night later on?” He points to the flyer that his dad pinned up on the notice board moments earlier. “It’ll be in the pub down on the quay. It’s always great fun, at least I always think so.”

“I’m not sure about that.” I laugh. The idea of standing up in front of strangers and singing is making my cheeks feel hot already. For me, being observed at all sometimes feels like a horrifying ordeal. Liam smiles “Are you a bit shy, Evie?” Again, I blush.

“She’ll be grand when she gets there.” Kelly says. “It’ll be a bit of fun. What do you think, Claire?” Claire shrugs and sips her coffee. “Could be good. I can’t sing but I don’t mind karaoke.”

“We’ll see you all there.” Says Liam decisively, and then looks over at the children waiting on the beach. “Better get to work.” He races back over to the beach buggy, hops in and drives it over the boardwalk towards the sea. We say our goodbyes to Anthony too, and we three are alone together again Kelly nudges me sharply in the ribs. “What about him?” I pretend not to know what she’s talking about. “What about him? Seems like a friendly person to me. A very normal boy.”

She rolls her eyes. “What about him for you? Do you think he’s good looking?”

“Yes I suppose.” I admit “But he’s not really my type.”

“If he’s not your type then who is?”

I feel interrogated. I don’t know how to explain it to her, but the idea of being romantically attached to Liam in any way makes me panicky. There’s nothing wrong with him, it just feels like too much pressure. “I don’t know, I just think he’s more your type and not mine.”

My attempt to flip the focus onto her backfires. “Oh, so he’s not good enough for you, but he’s good enough for me?” I feel like she is deliberately misunderstanding me.

“No…” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. How do I explain that if I like a boy, I want the connection to happen organically? I don’t want to be set up like some loveless little freak who needs someone to hold her hand through the dating process. I want to meet somebody and feel comfortable enough to get to know them without the pressure of my friends watching me from the sidelines, judging my every move, coaching me in what to say and how to act, and then forcing me through the humiliating debrief period after. I feel like I’m a pitiful project sometimes, a specimen in a lab labelled ‘never had a boyfriend… and is also very weird.’

I don’t say any of this though, and as usual I end up apologising to her. I tell her that I’ll try talking to him at the karaoke night and we leave it at that.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

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angelst4re · 1 year

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hello my loves!! i’m going to post this now because i’m going out tonight to celebrate the new year! but i couldn’t go out without posting this first :) (also there’s a surprise at the end! you can put a face to the fics <3)

firstly, i want to say thank you sooo much to everybody who likes, comments, requests, shares my posts or just interacts with my account at all!! when i started posting in april/may i think? (i started off posting paul dano character fics!) i never expected to get where i am now with almost 700 followers?!?! that’s insane!! this silly app makes me so happy every day, i’ve received so much love and appreciation and it’s really helped me get through this year as this has been my little escape when things have gotten tough, which is why i’ve never taken a break longer than a week or so.

it makes me so happy because i recognise some people who have been with me on this account since the beginning of my jamie posts! back when my @ was sykeswhalewash (i still love shark tale, but as my account started growing i thought i should change it, so now it’s this! which is inspired by my favourite song ever, bleach by brockhampton <3) some of you might even remember the tags fiasco where all of my posts vanished from all the tags :’) we’ve really been through a lot together, and i expect there’ll be a lot more to come, as i don’t plan on stopping writing any time soon!! i’ve got a couple jace fics on the way, and maybe another rockstar!jamie one…

there’s loads more i could say, but then this post will be too long and you’ll probably get bored… so i’ll just say thank you again, and i hope this new year brings us all happiness, love and joy!! i will always be here to talk to if you need someone, don’t be afraid to message me on here or on my twitter, or even just rant about something in my request box, i won’t answer if you don’t want me to, but i’ll listen to you.

happy new year my darlings! with lots of love from me and vecna (and jamie in the back!) <33

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bihansthot · 9 months

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Trying to decide if I want to write anything today or be a lazy dinosaur and no nothing. If I do write anything it’s going to be self indulgent, I’m not really feeling any of the suggestions/requests people have sent in. I’m not trying to say they’re bad suggestions I’m just more so getting at I have no clue how to go about writing them. I also think I am going to stick with just smut requests, because when I write requests it’s for you loves right? All I get out of it is the likes/reblogs/comments etc. and I have gotten next to none of that on the non smut stories I’ve done. It’s a little discouraging, it’s one thing writing a self ship drabble and getting no interaction, that’s to be expected but no interaction on a request is depressing lol I might do non smut requests in exchange for things though? Like a story for a story or like fanart/moodboard/headcanons ko fi donation something like that? I don’t know I still haven’t decided if I’m going to do requests again or not. Right now I’m trying to decide if I wanna write a silly Shark Week self ship story or finally write some spicy Tomas x Hallvard. Right now I’m trying to ignore the fact I have to get lab work tomorrow and I’m still horribly bruised from my biopsy last week :/ On the plus side my tattoo is healing very nicely although it’s a bit itchy. I also need to take a shower today and decide what I want to do with my hair, my last poll showed you lovelies think I should try teal next and I’m all for it I just need to decide if I want to leave my ridiculously long roots or bleach them out. Hopefully you lovelies are doing well today and if not I’m beating up whatever’s making it bad. 💙

#life update #writing wips #writing updates #request update #bribe me for fluff #smut is free

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macchiatioo · 2 months

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Something about growing up that people don't talk about is how certain people become frozen in time.

What do you mean my niece is about to graduate high school? What do you mean she has her license and a car and a job and a boyfriend? She's still 10 years old. She wears clothes from Justice and her favorite movie is Tangled and she likes gymnastics and singing and Minecraft. I love her.

What do you mean my nephew is almost eight years old? What do you mean? He's still five and I can still comfortably carry him. He still calls transfer trucks "meat trucks". He doesn't spend all day staring at a screen. He still refers to petting an animal as "softing" because I told him pet a dog softly. I love him.

What do you mean my mom is 60? She's still 40 and she's making me punch on a sunny day in autumn while I run around in my Halloween costume and the windows are open and the curtains are blowing. She's still 40 and and helping me make bed at summer camp with my Strawberry Shortcake comforter. I love her.

What do you mean my dad is 61? I'm still in a hospital room watching Bleach at midnight with him because there's no point in going to sleep when I know the nurse is going to wake me up to take my vitals. We're still playing in the hotel pool together. I love him.

What do you mean my cat is 16 years old? What do you mean he doesnt play much any more? We just got him as a kitten. He jumped and climbed on and scratched all the furniture. He would keep me up all night by jumping on my bed and walking all over me and attacking my feet and licking my hair. I love him.

My do you mean I said goodbye to my great uncle in a casket almost 4 years ago? We're still at my grandparents house playing Rock Band and Guitar Hero. He still brings his black lab, Buddy, over. He still rides his motorcycle. He still comes over for holidays. We're still grilling on the porch. We're still looking at the constellations. We're still hoping for snow. I love him.

What do you mean my old friend and classmate got murdered at 22? He's 8. He didn't become a jerk in middle school. It's October. I'm at his house for his birthday party. His mom is cutting the birthday cake too small. His dad hasn't died yet and is still pretending to be the hulk and is play wrestling with him. He's still on the basketball team. I love him.

What do you mean I stopped talking to my first best friend in middle school? We're still having a sleepover. Her mom made fudge. We're playing in an inflatable pool. We're at her grandmother's house watching shark week. She still wears horribly bright knee high sneakers and and suspenders and tutus from Claire's. Her eyeliner wings are huge and her mascara is clumpy. I love her.

What do you mean I don't talk to my cousins or my brothers anymore? I love them.

What do you mean I'm 22? What do you mean I graduated college? I'm 3, I'm 7, I'm 10, I'm 12, I'm 15, I'm 16, 17, 18, I'm, I'm, I'm. I wear pink frilly night gowns. I have a canopy bed. I pretend I'm asleep so I can be carried from the car. I'm in a hospital bed. I'm at grandma's house. I'm on the playground. I like the Jonas Brothers. I like One Direction. I like Barbie movies and Strawberry Shortcake and Care Bears and My Little Pony and Totally Spies and Winx Club and Hello Kitty and and and and. I'm watching my first horror movie. I'm by the pond under the willow tree. It's Christmas. It's Halloween. It's Easter. It's my birthday at the bowling alley and everyone showed up. It's my birthday at the park and no one showed up. I'm in high school and playing volleyball at lunch. It's my second year of college and I'm getting milkshakes and watching Big Brother with my roommates. I'm playing Smash Bros on the living room floor. I'm planning on breaking into area 51. I'm scared of the dark and too tall slides. I love her.

My love is an embalming fluid. My life is 10 or more dioramas and we're all glued to the floor. You didn't leave me and I didn't leave you. It's a book that I keep rereading. No one prepared me for a grief like this. You're all Eurydice and I keep looking back.

What do you mean?

I love you.

#tw family death #tw murder #tw existentialism #this is why you never go for a walk without headphones #mine #poetry #prose #i guess #I actually don't know what this is #I'm tearing up and sniffling at the park but at least I can blame it on the pollen #writing #writers on tumblr

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upwardive · 6 months

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In the summer of 1990 - heading southbound on the PR-52 highway, the neon-green blur of sunlit rainforest is an unfocused temporal distortion relayed through the rear-left passenger window of a Jeep Cherokee. South of La Cordillera Central, neon slowly gives way to olive greens, beige, and sunset orange.

On-site by the shore, the old sun-bleached Cherokee is an animal perfectly camouflaged against the semi-arid landscape of the island's southern coastal plain. A row of small cabins line the beach. Each with its own broken tile mosaic table in front. The outboard motor shack lies under a palm tree, and a yellow barnacle-covered dock after it.

The speargun is more of a toy than a tool. It only has one rubber band, and it fires too slowly to catch anything, but you always carry it anyways. You wouldn't want to catch anything with it though; the blood of speared fish draws sharks - and you never got over your first encounter. Better to dive for conch anyways; their shells are your trophies.

The shark startled you out of the corner of your left eye last summer. It was barely bigger than you; its back was grayish-blue, its belly milky white, and its eyes were as black as outer space. It was one with the sea, perfect and beautiful. You panicked out of the water and smashed your right knee against the port-side edge of la yola. Dad wouldn't stop laughing at you.

At night, the sound of the week's Spanish-dubbed episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation plays in the background. You walk outside. The water is a calm black-lacquered mirror reflecting the stars.

You wonder if all frontiers are one and the same.

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casinoblog1 · 2 years

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Fish Shooting Game – The Fishing Game Hunting Scratch Cards Gate is excellent.

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The publisher plans to diversify transaction portals, giving players more options and cash conversions to their accounts.

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bopinion · 2 years

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2022 / 23

Aperçu of the Week:

"I'm just a soul whose intentions are good.

Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood."

(Blues song by Bennie Benjamin, Gloria Caldwell and Sol Marcus, interpreted by Nina Simone, The Animals and Santa Esmeralda, among others).

Bad News of the Week:

Wednesday was "International Day of the Sea." 71% of the earth's surface is covered by oceans. An interconnected ecosystem of massive proportions. And yet still largely unexplored. And I'm not talking about mythical creatures like Nessie - after all, it lives in a lake. I'm talking about Posidonia australis, for example, the largest plant in the world. It's a species of seagrass that has grown to an incredible size of about 200 square kilometers in Shark Bay, Australia, in about 4,500 years. And was only recognized as one single organism a few days ago.

This is to illustrate that we have precious little idea about the world's oceans. Which does not stop us from destroying them. Especially perfidious: most of the effects of our environmentally harmful behavior cannot be estimated at all. Take the Gulf Stream, for example. It carries about 30 million cubic meters of water - per second! That is more than one hundred times as much water as flows into the sea via all the rivers in the world together.

The Gulf Stream is largely responsible for the land weather throughout northern Europe. The significance of the Gulf Stream for the oceans themselves cannot even be guessed. Only one thing is certain: its importance is great. Bad luck for the Gulf Stream, the already irreversible loss of Arctic summer ice due to global warming will have a strong impact on it. Bad luck for the Gulf Stream? No: bad luck for us. Because no scientist dares to predict what changes this domino-stone effect will have. And - once again - we simply do nothing.

After all, that's what we traditionally do: nothing. Let's stay in the home of Posidonia australis. Last year, UNESCO planned to place the Great Barrier Reef's more than 340,000-square-kilometer World Heritage Site on the Red List of "endangered" sites. That's because more than two-thirds of the coral has been damaged, and another mass bleaching event is taking place right now. Pressure from the Australian government (yes, those were the coal lobby guys) had prevented this. More was invested in PR than in fixing causes. Because what was done about the coral die-off was: nothing.

Again, it's not about tourism and postcard motifs. But about everything. The oceans are ONE complex ecosystem. This can best be imagined by comparing it to a gearbox: if even one cog loses a few teeth, the entire gearbox no longer functions. But a broken cog is relatively easy to replace. If a part of the world ocean ecosystem is broken, it takes generations to adapt to the new situation. And no plan B, if there is one, can be as good as the original, which nature has worked on for millions of years.

Until that pesky parasite named man came along. And for some inexplicable reason decided to risk the long-term profound well-being of all life forms on the planet for his own short-term superficial well-being. Man "accepts death in a particularly reprehensible and selfish manner." According to the penal code this definition qualifies for murder.

Good News of the Week:

Let's stick to the topic. Fortunately, when it comes to the environment, there is good news every now and then: The end of combustion engines could come sooner than pessimists thought. Because from 2035, new cars in the EU will no longer be allowed to emit CO2 - that was decided by the EU Parliament last week. This is just one part of the "Green New Deal," but one with considerable significance for the continent. Firstly, because the automotive industry is still an extremely important industry - for jobs and for tax revenues. Secondly, because in terms of technical innovation cycles, 2035 is practically the day after tomorrow. So it's no wonder that the lobbyists are starting to scream. But hopefully they will not be heard. Because in the end, there is no way around overcoming technology from the century before last. And it comes as no surprise. So deal with it!

Personal happy moment of the week:

On Saturday, my father and my son set out on a week-long bicycle tour, along the beautiful Moselle River from Trier to Koblenz. In the run-up, there was some uncertainty, as the railroad company did not want to guarantee that the booked train connections would actually take place, due to many construction works, route closures and 9-Euro-Ticket users. And that they can take their bikes with them. But it all worked out and I'm happy that grandpa and grandson were able to start their adventure.

I couldn't care less...

...that Boris Johnson survived his impeachment for "Partygate". On the one hand, it was clear that the reputation of No. 10 Downing Street was already ruined - with a man at the helm who had become delinquent in office for the first time in British history. For another, it was clear that the Tories would have no real personnel alternative to this clown in the event of new elections. So it was apparently just a shot across the bow of the prime minister. And a feeble attempt to maintain some semblance of the rule of law and accountability to the electorate. P.S.: Wrote this before the official result, did the crystal ball work?

As I write this...

...I'm starting to cross my fingers for Emmanuel Macron that his "Ensemble!" coalition wins a solid majority in the second parliament election next Sunday. Not because I would support him or his program unconditionally. But because, with Boris "The Haircut" Johnson already lame, Europe can't use another leading nation that can't deal with external problems because of internal trench warfare. And since the Trotskyist competitor Jean-Luc Mélenchon (who deserves respect indeed for having succeeded in uniting the French left) has so far only attracted attention with positions such as "Less Europe, less Euro, less Schengen, less immigration, less Germany, less work - France first!", I would like to avoid an endless hanging game between the Élysée Palace and the Palais Bourbon. You can just see between the White House and Capitol Hill what that can lead to.

Post Scriptum:

The Donetsk Supreme Court on Thursday sentenced two Britons and a Moroccan to death. Saying they were mercenaries who only came to the Donbas to "kill civilians for money." According to the families, however, both Britons had already moved to Ukraine in 2018, have Ukrainian partners and have served in the Ukrainian military for years. And the Moroccan had studied in Ukraine and joined the army as early as last year. So the grounds for the verdict are just as flimsy as the legitimacy of the court itself. After all, the so-called Donetsk People's Republic is recognized by only one state: Russia. If the verdict is indeed carried out, the United Kingdom in particular will be called upon to explain why it cannot even protect its citizens from the pseudo-rule of law of a puppet government. Once again, a process that was previously thought impossible in the middle of Europe.

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