taste of the beach

The Signs as Five Senses

Aries: Looks like fireworks. Smells like the woods. Feels like calloused hands. Sounds like yelling at sports games. Tastes like hot tamales.

Taurus: Looks like a ballerina. Smells like flowers. Feels like silky hair. Sounds like acoustic guitar. Tastes like water from a waterfall.

Gemini: Looks like sunflowers. Smells like birthday cake. Feels like a surprise party. Sounds like the screams of an amusement park. Tastes like strawberry ice cream.

Cancer: Looks like a genuine smile. Smells like soap. Feels like fresh laundry. Sounds like beach waves. Tastes like mother’s homemade food.

Leo: Looks like eyes reflecting the sea. Smells like metal. Feels like faux fur. Sounds like musicals. Tastes like rich chocolate.

Virgo: Looks like perfect handwriting. Smells like cinnamon. Feels like the hugs your mother gives you. Sounds like a heart beat. Tastes like black licorice.

Libra: Looks like angel wings. Smells like vanilla extract. Feels like someone tracing your palm. Sounds like a harp. Tastes like mandarines.

Scorpio: Looks like melting gold. Smells like rose perfume. Feels like tucking yourself into bed after a long day. Sounds like roof top screaming. Tastes like hot cocoa.

Sagittarius: Looks like abstract art. Smells like an antique shop. Feels like a leather bound book. Sounds like the starting of a jeep wrangler. Tastes like a lollipop.

Capricorn: Looks like a skyscraper. Smells like coffee. Feels like the heat of your laptop. Sounds like motivational speeches. Tastes like caramel.

Aquarius: Looks like dystopic movie covers. Smells like salt water. Feels like skin against ice. Sounds like humming to your favorite song. Tastes like hot cheetos.

Pisces: Looks like a flower garden. Smells like a loved ones t shirt. Feels like the joy of Christmas presents. Sounds like bed time stories. Tastes like fresh lemonade on a hot summer day.

dates for the hogwarts houses
  • slytherin + gryffindor: the classic "movie and dinner" one because, let's be real, they couldn't find shared interests, play laser tag, built a fort and make out inside of it
  • slytherin + ravenclaw: watching the stars, going to a ball, wine tasting
  • slytherin + hufflepuff: bike around the city, coffee date, beach bonfire, cooking competition
  • slytherin + slytherin: penthouse swimming, get drunk and talk about your past, go to a theater
  • gryffindor + gryffindor: take the train to somewhere you've never been before, go to a record store, jam session
  • gryffindor + ravenclaw: eat popcorn and watch a movie at home, go antiquing, dance
  • gryffindor + hufflepuff: take a hike, carve pumpkins, skydiving
  • ravenclaw + ravenclaw: discover a new museum, go to a bookstore, write about or draw each other
  • ravenclaw + hufflepuff: go iceskating, swim at the beach, visit a themepark
  • hufflepuff + hufflepuff: take pictures of each other with a disposable camera, horseback riding, go to a festival

The ocean was grey,
And her lips were red.

Everything around me tasted like salt,
Like sun-baked, sunscreened skin.
Like the blue-striped beach towel
And her damp ocean hair.

My mother didn’t know our secret;
That we held hands in the backseat of the car,
And kissed in the bathtub,
And tasted the cores of each other’s awkward bodies.

The ocean was grey,
And I was on fire.

When I was eleven I stole my mom’s xanax
Prescribed for anxiety
Covered up as a solution for a pinched nerve

No one told me the depth at which illness runs through my veins
Too sensitive, too weak, too negative
Anxious, depressed, paranoid–
Terms never mentioned above a hushed whisper

Sixth grade I swallowed pills that weren’t mine
Surfed the internet on my iPod touch for different ways to deliver the chemicals

When I was twelve I started snorting modafinal
Lifted from my fathers medicine cabinet
Too tired to handle with care
Crushed between two spoons
That year brought notebooks filled with masterpieces
Written in languages I could not understand in the morning

Thirteen brought study drugs
My brothers adderall carrying me through an accelerated math program far beyond my capabilities
The learning disabilities I was unaware of could not hold me down after a few blue lines

At fourteen years old
OxyContin was a lifeline to which I clung
Surgery after surgery my mom was too busy recovering to manage
her pills
At school the vocab word of the week was insufflate

Fifteen brought trauma as I led a pure life into my line of recreation
She stole her mom’s pills too
We took everything we could find
Chasing a feeling she didn’t know and I couldn’t describe

Sixteen brought weed and alcohol and
Selling adderall in Spanish class
To fund the steady stream of
opioids and benzodiazepines I needed to
keep my hands from shaking

Heartbreak and new love came with seventeen
A new love to share my passion with
She blew lines of oxy off my ass on our first date
And
Rubbed the leftover powder on my gums
Taught me to do blow off of CD’s in my driveway
She carried a rolled-up dollar bill in her wallet
Always ready for the next hit
I loved her
And she shattered me

Eighteen ended the cycle and
A new lover kept me high on marijuana
High enough to let down my walls
But not enough to stop the shaking
Sharing bowls in the backseat of his car
Blunt walks on the beach
He hates when I tasted like cigarettes

Antidepressants stimulants and downers
With my name on them
Rot on my nightstand
As I try to make peace with an addiction recommended by a
Psychiatrist

—  I don’t care if I’m damaged, honestly I think I’m just bored
the beach au

suggested by my good pal @nerdyknows! (also huge thanks to @actualasamisato for helping with the language discrepancies). this one’s a personal favourite.

  • the whole overwatch team’s gathered in an italian beach house for a three-day vacation, ordered by jack ‘dad’ morrison. unfortunately, italian summers are not for the faint of heart, and daytime finds angela ‘mercy’ ziegler laying on top of the air conditioner, with three fans pointed directly at her prone body.
  • ‘i’m glad i’m a robot who can’t feel heat,’ genji says cheerfully as he walks by.
  • ‘fuck off, you ugly green roomba,’ angela mumbles into the air vent. he chuckles.
  • ‘you shouldn’t aggravate your healer in such a manner, genji,’ comes a serene voice. zenyatta floats by; he takes a look at angela and whirrs in empathy, turning his orbs into a large, spinning fan. she lets out a vague sound of thanks.
  • ‘habibti,’ comes the mellow tone of a wonderful voice. fareeha amari steps into view, leaning over angela to peer down at her with an amused expression.
  • ‘you’re upside down,’ angela says.
  • ‘i am indeed,’ she responds, mouth quirking. ‘is the heat treating you badly?’
  • angela groans, burrows further into the lovely cold of the air conditioner. ‘i miss switzerland.’
  • fareeha laughs. ‘how about this? you come to the beach. the ocean’s colder than the air conditioner.’
  • angela gives her a thoughtful glance. ‘okay. i’ll take you up on that. but only,’ and she holds out a finger, ‘if you buy me a litre of ice cream. ja?’
  • ‘understood,’ fareeha says with a grin, and disappears to spread the word.
  • zenyatta makes a curious sound from where he floats above her. ‘i did not know that overwatch allowed patient-doctor relationships.’
  • angela falls off the air vent.
  • ‘we’re not in a relationship!’ she splutters after she ceases choking on her own tongue.
  • zenyatta, the lovely soul, makes a vague sound of understanding. ‘ah. i am sorry for mistaking it. you and captain amari act like you are romantically attached sometimes, and i apologise if i have offended you through coming to this conclusion.’
  • ‘no, you’re alright, zenny,’ angela says, clambering up to reinstate herself on the air vent. ‘i have… considered it, before. but i want her to be happy.’
  • ‘perhaps you should consider that you make her happy,’ zenyatta says, and angela turns over to look at him. ‘but anyways, it is nearly time to go to the beach.’
  • angela sighs, jumps off the air conditioner, and goes to dig out her bathing suit.
  • the team reconvenes at the beach ten minutes later. angela notes, with almost zero surprise, that the varying members of talon have arrived on the scene. 
  • lena is firmly latched to a desperately trying-to-escape widowmaker, talking a mile a minute. she catches angela’s eyes and mouths ‘help’. angela just grins at her and shoots her a thumbs up. sombra’s sipping a cocktail by the beach. her purple bikini matches her implants. akande has detached his gauntlet for the occasion, and is wearing bright gold swimming trunks. he’s holding a large mai tai, tiny umbrella and all. even reaper is there, floating grumpily over the ocean as jack tries to splash him from below.
  • angela surveys the scene, scanning for the other overwatch members. mccree is swimming happily about, and hanzo’s two dragons are frolicking with genji’s dragon in the waves. as angela watches, a blue dragon detaches itself from a game of play wrestling and wanders gracefully over to curl around mccree’s shoulders. he pets it, treading water. he’s not wearing his hat, thank god.
  • genji and hanzo are chatting on the sand, zenyatta floating a few inches above the sand. lucio’s blasting something from a speaker, and hana’s dancing along to it. she hops down to sombra and drags her out of her magazine. sombra protests a little, laughing, sunglasses falling half off her face, but she gives in, and as they go back up to lucio’s dj booth, sombra tugs a smiling satya up into their dancing circle.
  • zarya and mei are far out in the ocean, but angela can see them laughing. mei freezes a little iceberg for her blaster to sit on. bastion’s there as well, ganymede chirping and resting on its shoulder.
  • torbjorn’s tinkering with a few tiny machines that angela thinks are harmless. probably. winston’s setting up a net to play beach volleyball, and lena tugs an unwilling amelie into joining a team. the junkers are there, too. mako lets out a grunt and splashes in, still wearing his mask. he sends a wave of water flying into reaper. jack takes the opportunity to tug him into the ocean, and he surfaces soaking wet and snarling.
  • reinhardt charges in, wearing thor-themed swimming trunks (he bought them because he liked the hammer design), and jumps in, sending up an enormous splash. ana’s lying on the beach, sunbathing, and flicks up her sunglasses to give reinhardt a grin.
  • speaking of amaris- angela cranes her neck around, trying to see-
  • ‘angela! guess who got put on lifeguard duty?’ fareeha appears in her line of vision, and angela nearly faints.
  • she’s wearing a blue overwatch jacket with the sleeves rolled up, ‘amari’ written across the back in bold gold letters. under that, she’s not wearing much at all. just a black sports bra and a pair of red swimming shorts. angela can see every line of definition on her abs. she thinks she might be hyperventilating.
  • ‘angela? are you alright? is it the heat?’ fareeha hovers in front of her, looking concerned.
  • ‘it’s- yeah-’ angela chokes. ‘it’s, uh, the heat. but i’m alright.’
  • ‘if you’re sure,’ fareeha says with a doubtful expression. then it morphs into a breathtaking smile, and she reaches for angela’s wrist, tugging her into the cool water.
  • she splashes angela once they’re waist deep, and angela yelps, chasing her through the waves. she grabs fareeha’s head and tugs her underwater, and they come up with matching grins and gleeful smiles.
  • they clamber out after an hour or so, and team up for an ultra-aggressive game of volleyball. the ball has barely even left winston’s hands when gabe leaps up and smacks it hard. tracer blinks forward, returning it, and it starts an epic war, all recorded on hana’s livestream.
  • afterwards, angela slumps down on the sand, burying her cheek in the warmth of it. a shadow falls over her, and she looks up to see fareeha, grinning down at her. she’s shed the jacket, leaving her in just a sports bra and shorts.
  • ‘come on, sleepyhead,’ fareeha teases. ‘i promised you ice cream.’
  • angela reaches out a lazy hand, and fareeha takes pity on her, crouching down and scooping her up, bridal style. angela nearly faints then and there, and fareeha shifts her around for a moment before transferring her to a piggyback.
  • ‘hey, jesse!’ she shouts, wearing that wonderful competitive smirk. ‘race you to the ice cream? i’m handicapped, but you’re still going to lose.’
  • ‘oh, it’s on,’ jesse drawls, and then runs off. fareeha laughs, and then sprints after him. she overtakes him at the last second, and turns around to stick her tongue out at him, setting angela down. angela’s still a little red-faced (she spent the whole way here practically groping fareeha and she’s in a mild state of shock).
  • ‘i want caramel,’ fareeha declares, turning to angela. ‘you?’
  • angela studies the gelato. ‘i’ll try the sorbetto alla fragola, please.’
  • fareeha grins, producing a wallet out of nowhere. she hands angela her cone with a sweeping gesture, bowing.
  • ‘thank you,’ angela giggles. the man running the gelato store gives them a secret smile.
  • ‘enjoy your holiday, la mia signorina. i have heard many foreigners think italy is very romantic.’
  • angela waits for fareeha to deny it. instead, she just grins. ‘it is, isn’t it?’
  • and then she takes her cone and tugs angela away.
  • they walk until they reach a little stone bridge, and angela lets out a sound of delight, hopping up to sit on the edge. fareeha smiles at her, eyes crinkling. she shuffles a little closer, and angela is caught by how striking fareeha’s eye of horus is, flowing from her dark eyes.
  • ‘i like italy,’ she says, looking for something to say. fareeha huffs out a laugh.
  • ‘angela,’ she says, ‘may i kiss you?’
  • angela’s eyes go wide as saucers, and then she nods frantically.
  • and when they finally kiss, fareeha tastes like chocolate, and she tastes like coming home.
MASTERLIST

IMAGINES :

Stiles Stilinski

Studying
Well That Wasn’t So Bad
Fight Fight Fight!
Games
Holiday Party
Hostage
- Don’t Leave Me
Remember  (part 2)  (part 3)
Sticky Situation
Don’t Forget Me
100th Date
Vacation
Unprotected
More Than Star Wars
- Just Friends  (part 2)  (part 3)  (part 4)  (part 5)  (part 6)  (part 7)       (part 8)  (part 9)  (part 10)  (part 11)  (epilogue)
- Werewolf’s Anchor
- Valentine’s Day Special
- Reunion
- Alone
- Scared to be Lonely
- Video Games (songfic)
- Dating Stiles Stilinski Would Include
- Like She’s Mine  (part 2)  (part 3)  (part 4)  (part 5)  (part 6)  (part 7)  (part 8)  (part 9)  (part 10)  (part 11)  (part 12)  (part 13)  (part 14)  (part 15)
- Siren
- The Hardest Goodbye  (part 2)
- Comfort
- Camping Trips
- Wild
- Where’s My Love
- Wires (ft Void)
- The Blood on His Hands **smut**
- Halcyon
- Love Notes
- Numb
- Character Ask List
- My Own


Malia Tate

Christmas Love
School Dance
The Beach (songfic)
Storytime 
- Nerves
- Taste Testing
- Drive Thru
- Being Malia’s Anchor/Best Friend Headcannons
- Love you Most
- The Child and the Coyote   (part two)  (part three)   (part four)
- Character Ask List


Scott McCall

Dating Scott Would Include
Another Girl
Long Time Crush
Sleeping Beauty
The One With Little Lucy
Our Childhood
The One Where You’re a Mom  (part 2)
6x08 Aftermath
- Werewolves Don’t Exist
- Forbidden  (part 2)  (part 3)
- Soulmates
- Werewolf Meetings
- Perfect
- The War
- Youth
- Late Night Cuddles
- I Do, Right?
- Chasing After You
- Hotel in Paris **smut**


Allison Argent

It’s a Date
Untitled
Sleepovers
Visions 
- Happy Birthday
- Mommies
- Festivities
- Just Visiting
- Airport
- New Girl
- Brought Back
- I Want You Here
- Tattooed
- The Cute One
- Character Ask List



Kira Yukimura

Nightlight
The Kitsune’s Anchor
- I Don’t Want to be Out Anymore    (part 2)
- Hurt for Me
- Character Ask List


Lydia Martin

My Girlfriend
The List
Drunken Feelings    (part 2)
- The Cliche Rain Scene
- Perfectly Flawed
- Cool Girl
- Anchors
- Character Ask List


Corey Bryant

Digits


Theo Raeken

Blinded
Bus Seats
6x06
Heartbeat
Future Talking
- Flirt
- You’ll Never Be Friends
- Being the Bait
- Sleep: Interrupted
- Never Hated You


Isaac Lahey

- Little Hale


Stydia Fanficton

Remember I Love You
- Stydia Fanclub
- Character Ask List


Scallison Fanfiction

*ONESHOTS IN THE WORKS*


Pack Imagines

- Watching The Superbowl With the Pack Includes


Stuart Twombly

Work Events
- Success


Peter Parker

- The Night We Met



Archie Andrews

- Somebody Else


Other Writings

- Scallisaac: Allison’s Side of the Story
- Scallisaac: Scott’s Side of the Story
(written by my fabulous friend)
- Scallisaac: Isaac’s Side of the Story (written by another faboo friend)


a/n: requests are always open! though they may take a while i love hearing from y’all :3

Okay so I said I'd give you date ideas

Some are free, some are inexpensive or can be inexpensive using groupons.

- museum dates (check which days of the month are free days)
-aquarium
-zoo/ petting zoo
-dolphin / whale watching (check Groupon)
-horseback riding (check Groupon first)
-hiking
-picnic (BRING WINE)
- sail boat tour (check Groupon)
-food festivals (taste of whatever city you’re in)
- beach dates
-helicopter tour (check Groupon)
-do something one of you have always wanted to do
-road trip
- cook together
- have a fondue night
- Apple picking
- wine tasting
- Thrift shop/Flea markets
-Kayaking (some cities have this for free on certain days)
- workout together
-biking
- game night/ sex game night
-Drive-in movie
-Movies in the park
- roller skating
- yoga class together
- carnivals
- Art fair
- comedy club
- jazz club

fyi: you can’t dismiss transphobia by saying that people are ‘entitled to their own opinion’. thinking that pepsi tastes better than coke is an opinion. preferring the beach to the mountains is an opinion. but your opinion ceases to be an opinion when it directly affects the lives of others. transphobic ideology, transphobic jokes; transphobic “opinions” are fundamentally, directly, and aggressively harmful. a staggering 41% of trans people attempt suicide (compared to 4.6% of cis people), and trans people are being murdered at alarming rates because of their identities. you cannot dismiss transphobic comments as a mere matter of opinion. to disagree with someone’s right to exist is inherently violent.

Southern Gothic

It’s always dark and cold inside, the heat outside feels like kiss from the sun itself. You see windows but light doesn’t come through them. The sun is out isn’t? 

A hurricane is coming again, one always is. The buildings are dark inside, the only light comes from the exit signs. You stick to the light they provide, people are….different during hurricanes. You’re unsure if that shadow you saw may have been someone you know, you don’t investigate.

You sit down in a small diner, the waitress keeps bringing you sweet tea. You sip each one, they taste the way your neighbors used to smell…

You go to the beach with your friends but you dare not go in the water. It’s too blue, too inviting. Your friend goes in anyways, they say they see something. “It’s so close, I’ll be right back.” Your friend doesn’t come back up.

Small children are running around outside on the bare asphalt, the scorching sun making the air humid and hot. The children never seem to sweat, they just keep playing. Their smiles too wide, their feet unburned. They look at you, you shiver.

Were those gunshots or fireworks? You sit and listen, the sound doesn’t stop, it gets louder. When did it get this late? Where are the stars?

You see something scurry across the room from the corner of your room, “an insect,” you tell yourself. There are many insects here, your floor is now a writhing black mass, “an insect,” you tell yourself.

You cut the grass yesterday, today it is knee height. Did you cut the grass?

Your neighborhood has had the woods by the road cleared out. You manage to drive 30ft before hitting a deer. You get out the car to check on the deer. It’s not there anymore, you attempt to clean your car of the blood, it doesn’t come off.

The priest in church only ask one question “The end is near, is your soul saved?” You’ve been going twice a week all your life, is your soul saved? You wake up in the middle of the night “Is your soul saved?” is written with crosses on your wall. You flinch.

Everyone in your town drinks, it smells like gasoline. You dare not question it. You see a bush fire, the smell of alcohol? gasoline? still on your breath, you step a little bit closer.

Someone asks where you got your tattoos, you say you don’t remember. You look back at old photos, you didn’t always have these tattoos right? You look down from the photos to see your hands etching away at your skin. You look away and immediately forget.

You wake up every morning with bruises and cuts on your skin. You don’t question it but sometimes, when you’re walking down the street, out of the corner of your eye you see a girl holding a doll that looks a little too like you.

The fireflies come every summer, luring the townsfolk in with their quaint bright lights. The people keep them in their homes, take them to church, give them to their children. The townspeople get paler and thinner, their eyes sunken in and skin cold the longer they keep the fireflies. You wonder which will die first, the town or the fireflies.

Reconnecting (Dylan O'Brien x Reader)

A/N: this one is completely inspired by Dylan being in SA because I’m in SA rn


Warnings: angst, smut smuttty smut


Pairings: Dylan O'Brien x Reader, Andrew Garfield x Reader (Platonic)

***

“You don’t need me anymore.”


The words left your mouth as thought they were a simple fact, without implication or emotion. Dylan wondered how you could do that - how you could keep your voice so calm when your words had shattered his reality from where you stood, the table between the two of you acting as a physical and metaphorical barrier.


“How can you say that?” He asked, his eyes painted an angry red and his hands shaking. You sighed deeply.


“Because it’s true.” You replied simply, and Dylan continued to stare at you in shock. He made a move to reach out and grab your arm, but you side stepped him. “No. Come on. Don’t do that. You know it is. We’ve been over for a long time now Dyl. We’ve just been too scared to do anything about it.”


He let out a laugh that was anything but humorous. A hand flew to his head, where he tugged on his hair in frustration. “Is that what you think happened between us? That’s what you think we’ve been reduced to? Just a pair of morons who were once in love but now too scared to leave each other?”


His words felt like a slap to the face but you didn’t allow it to show. There was a long beat of silence and when he realised you didn’t have a response, smiled bitterly.


Suddenly, he slammed his fists down on the table so hard, it made you jump. “Answer me!”


But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give him a straight answer, not after hearing the way his voice broke. You couldn’t give him an answer, knowing deep down that you weren’t being honest with neither him nor yourself.


“That’s not what we are.” Dylan said quietly, his voice dropping to a sound barely above a whisper. He looked into your eyes with something truly desperate within his own. “You have to know that, baby. This can’t be it. I- I love you too much to let you go.”


Dyaln dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. You wanted to run, to get as far away from his little apartment as possible. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to hold your ground. If you stayed here any longer, your resolve would break and you would *never* be able to truly walk away.


“I refuse to believe that that’s what we’ve come to.” When he looked at you again, Dylan had tears streaming openly down his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and his fists gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. He leaned further on the coffee table, as though he was barely keeping himself upright.


“We’re so much more than that.” He told you with such conviction, you believed it to be true. “We aren’t one of those couples who are gonna grow to resent each other regret it.” Before you could stop him, Dylan had crossed the table and taken your face in his hands, cradling it gently.


You didn’t realise you we’re crying until he wiped away a tear.


“(Y/N) we’re forever. We’re the old couple who sit bickering on the front porch but love each other anyway. We’re the ones people look at and think ‘are they still together’ because fuck yeah we are. We’re the couple that’s gonna dance to out song when we’re seventy and can barely move. Baby, we’re infinite.”


“That’s a nice story.” You said, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pulling his hands off of you. “But it’s not ours - it can’t be. Our story ends here. I’m so sorry Dylan.”


And with those final words, you grabbed the handle of your bag and walked out of your shared apartment, closing the door behind you.


You knew he wouldn’t follow you out - he respected your choices enough not to.


You knew that he wouldn’t talk shit about you once you were gone - he loved you too much to do so.


And you knew that once you got on that plane to your new acting gig in London, he wouldn’t follow you because he thought that you didn’t love him any more.


***

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” The flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras were enough to blind, even through the thick lenses of your sunglasses. It was inevitable. You had recently filmed a new movie with Andrew Garfield and it was set to be a booming success. As a result you had to deal with a ridiculous amount of rumors about your personal life and his.

“Come on (Y/N)! Smile for the camera!” One yelled.

“Congratulations on the engagement!”

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Have you and Andrew picked a venue yet?”


You continued to ignore them as you made your way through the airport. You’d arranged for your luggage to be taken care of to avoid mass hysteria and you knew that a car would be waiting outside for you, in a predetermined location.


When you got there, a huge grin overtook your face.


“I thought you were still in Australia!” You said happily, making your way over to the Ford.


“Wanted to surprise you, as all.” Said Andrew, looking just as glad. You laughed and thanked him as you got in the passenger seat.


You and Andrew Garfield had become good friends over the duration of filming. It wasn’t your first movie together and you knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be your last. Although the two of you had pointedly decided not to take your relationship further than the occasional fuck (Andrew was still hung up over Emma), you shared a close relationship with him.


Andrew understood what it was like to have to leave the love of your life. He knew that sometimes, you just needed someone to cuddle up to, or fuck you senseless until you forgot why you were upset in the first place.


You didn’t know what to call your relationship with Andrew, but you relied upon him a great deal to keep you going and vice versa.


“When was the last time you were in South Africa?” Andrew asked, eyes focused on the road.


“Um, about two years ago.” You said, pointedly deciding to forget how awkward it had been when you returned to see Julia and met Brit for the first time. “Last you were here was to film Hacksaw Ridge, right?”


“Yeah.” He shrugged. “There are some places I wanna check out before I leave. I’m leaving tonight for the Oscars on Sunday, and you’ll have to excuse me for saying I’m pretty exhausted from all the flying every other day with you.”


“Fuck you.” You said playfully. “I’m awesome to travel with.” The press tour for your movie ended in California where you would give your last interview together on Ellen before the premier and then it was over but that was only next week. For now, you were here in Cape Town.


“I beg to differ.” Andrew said. “But I will agree with you on the first part.”


You shrugged, not questioning it. Andrew would sometimes have these days when, out of nowhere, he’d become extremely in need of physical affection or emotional support. You never called him out on it because you were almost always the same.


“My place.” You said. “I wanna check out the new hotel.”


Andrew shrugged and agreed, but your new hotel wasn’t the first stop. He took you out for lunch, insisting that airplane food wasn’t real food because ‘For the love of God, (Y/N), it tastes like dirt!’ Afterwards, you went for a quick walk on the beach, during which your jeans became filled with sand and uncomfortable.


“I didn’t even get a chance to swim.” You pouted, walking in through the door that Andrew held open for you. He laughed as he removed his shoes.


“Well it was your genius idea to go in waist deep while fully clothed.” He said, pulling off his still wet shirt and throwing it in the hamper in one of the rooms.


“Do we have a pool?” You asked, walking further around the room. You reached the glass doors of the patio and smiled. “We have a pool!”


“Really?” Andrew asked, walking up to you. He had taken off his shirt and undershirt as well as his jeans, leaving him bare from the waist up with only a pair of black boxer briefs cladding his modesty. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”


You didn’t feel self conscious at all, having to taken your shirt out in front of him. He’d seen it all a thousand times before. You stripped down until you were standing in your undies and made a dive for the pool.


You went in head first and the water was the perfect tempreture. As you swam to the surface, you heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew screaming obnoxiously before feeling rather than seeing him canon ball in.


When you broke the surface, you were met with his grinning face.


“What?” You asked, a hand instinctively wiping at you face. Andrew laughed, not unkindly.


“You’re beautiful.” He said simply. You grinned, swimming the shirt distance between you two and resting your arms on his shoulders.


“What’s wrong?” You asked, because as surprising as Andrew’s bursts of affections were, they were never random.


“She’s met someone.” He said with the utmost care in his voice, which made you grip his shoulders tighter. “I’m happy for her. I am. Truly. I just thought that it would be someone different. Someone who deserves her, you know?”


“Andrew Garfield not liking Emma Stone’s knew boyfriend.” You said teasingly, “Who’d have thought?”


“Oh, shut it.” He said, looking down at you. The words went unspoken, but you knew what he needed. “Are you comfortable with this?” Andrew asked and you nodded, knowing that with being back here your recent dip into loneliness, you needed it too. “You don’t have to do this.”


“I know.” You mumbled, leaning in close towards him. From here, you could see how tall he was. He was standing on his flat feet and the water barely reaached his upper arms. You, meanwhile, were holding on to him to stop from drowning.


“I need this too.” You told him, running a hand over his shoulders before pulling him in close. Without hesitace, you tilted your head up and met Andrew’s lips in a heated kiss.


He let out a sigh, his hands moving to your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as he walked you backwards through the water until he had you seated on the second step, kneeling down between your legs with the water flowing around you.


You pressed your lips to his heatedly and felt his tongue swipe against your lower lips. Feeling teasing, you kept your lips just the way they were and sucked onthe tip of his tongue when he tried to force his way in.


“Tease.” Andrew said, pulling away to catch his breath. You didn’t get a chance to replied because he had grabbed your ass roughly, causing you to let out a moan of surprise. He seized the opportunity and slid his tongue into your mouth before your lips had even connected.


“You love it.”


***


Three hours later, you awoke to find yourself cold and alone, lying naked on your bed. Memories of your time with Andrew flooded through your mind and you smiled slightly, hugging the sheets to your body.


You couldn’t, however, help but feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. Here you were, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, waking up alone and with no one to share it with. Sure, you had Andrew but it just wasn’t the same.


The last five years of you life had been lonley, despite your success. Of course, you did have a few boyfriends here and there, but never anyone real, never anyone you’d truly felt a deeper connection with.


Never anyone like Dylan…


You forced the thought out of your head and stood up, making your way to the kitchen. You were staying at the One&Only Cape Town hotel, where you had the most magnificent view of the ocean from your window. Right now, with the sun slowly setting and the reflection of the stars on the water, you felt completely at peace.


A small something of white caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on the fridge. Walking up and reading it, you realised it was from Andrew.


Sorry, had to run. Talking to J.J. about my contact. Meet me tonight at the Era Night Club (call a fucking Uber you lazy shit) and look pretty. Bringing friends.

-Andy


Reading the note once more, you shrugged and glanced at the clock. It was almost 8 and while Andrew didn’t specify a time, you knew he probably wouldn’t expect you before 10 or 11. Going on an impulse, you quickly cleaned up a bit and put on some clothes, deciding to go shopping.


The centre wasn’t far from where you were staying but you called an Uber anyway. In the rush of Andrew getting you here, you hadn’t bothered to pick up a rental, so that was your only means of getting around.


It was there, in that tiny little Colette store, that shit hit the fan.


You were going through items on the rack, looking for something to possibly wear tonight. Your hand stopped on a cute black number, and you grinned, humoring yourself and pulling out the leather dress that left very, very, very little to the imagination.


Holding the piece over your body, you looked up at the mirror, which ran along every wall and almost dropped your basket.


Standing there, staring at you with the most shocked look on his face, was Dylan O-fucking-Brien.


For a long moment neither of you spoke. You stared at him, watching a range of emotions flicker across his face (you were almost certain the same thing was happening to you) before he plastered on a smile and approached you.


Immediately you lowered the dress, wondering if you still smelt like sex from earlier. Dylan stood in front of you, smiling gently and you heart rate began to pick up, panic overtaking your body.


“Hey.” He said calmly, hands tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. You smiled back, a bit nervously.


“H-Hi.” You replied, taking a moment to look him over. Obviously he was older, considering the last time you had seen him was almost three years ago, but it wasn’t that. He looked tired, sick even. “Are you okay?”


Dylan’s smile faltered slightly before he stood up a little straighter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He said lightly, and you too fixed your posture. “How’s it been going with you? Heard you’re dating that Garfield guy.”


“We’re friends.” You smiled, but it felt absolutely fake. You hated this; hated how this was some kind of battle of wills where neither could show any weakness. “How are you and Brit doing?”


Again, his smile faltered but returned stubbornly. “We’re awesome. I mean why wouldn’t we be? It’s not like I don’t need her anymore.”


You physically winced, both at his words and at the tone with which they were said. Low fucking blow, you thought. Immediately, regret filled you ex’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was-”


“It’s fine.” You said because you honestly didn’t give a fuck. You couldn’t meet his eye when you spoke again. “I’m happy for you, Dyl. I’m really glad you found someone.”


You put the bag and dress down, spinning on your heels and making a b-line for the door. “(Y/N) wait-” you heard Dylan call out after you, but you very pointedly ignored it.


When you finally stopped walking to wipe your eyes, you were already outside of the mall. You looked ahead at the calm, settled ocean outside and screamed into your hands.


***

By the time Andrew rolled around, you were back in bed, snuggling up with Mr Pickle, your stuffed Teddy, and cleaning out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.


“I thought I told you to meet me at the club,” he said, walking through the doors. You looked up at him and immediately he was at your side. “What happened?”


“Ran into Dylan today.” You said, voice sounding bitter. “Had a lovely little chat.” Andrew didn’t say anything; he simply wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in close.


You clutched onto him like a lifeline and began sobbing into his shirt. Andrew stiffened. “Imma kill the bastard.” He promised, tucking you in closer and gently drawing circles on the small of your back.


“I- I’m sorry,” You said, face still buried into his chest. “I’m being stupid. Haven’t seen the guy in three years and the first thing I do is make a sodding fool of myself.”


“Hey, shh,” Andrew cooed gently. “Come on love, don’t say that. You panicked.” He pulled back, wiping the tears under your eyes with his thumbs. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and safe and you never have to see the bloody moron again. Understand?”


You nodded quietly, and Andrew pulled himself completely on the bed. You shifted so that your limbs could entwine and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.


Suddenly, you remembered why he was here in the first place.


“The club.” You said, sitting up. Andrew laughed.


“We’re not going.” He said and you gave him an odd look. “Not with you so heartbroken.”


You thought about it for a minute, remembering that you only had tonight and tomorrow morning left to spend with Andrew before he left for the Oscar’s. “I wanna.” You said. “I want to go, to get my mind off of things.”


He looked hesitant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”


“Come on.” You said. “This is your last and only day here, and I know you’ve spent all of it sight seeing. One last stop before tomorrow night.”


He watched you with a careful expression before sighing and nodding. Untangling himself from your cuddle, he stood at full length and helped you up.


“Go on then.” He said. “Get dressed.”


You shot him a scandalized look, pretending that you hadn’t been crying moments ago. “With you standing right there?” He grinned, but you could still see the hesitance in his eyes.


“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” You gasped loudly and he chuckled. “Okay, I’m going. Hurry up.”


He left and you paused, wondering what to wear for the evening. Quickly, you eyes the Victoria’s Secret shopping bag with the Gucci one next to it. Well, a girl could always use a pick up.


Less than twenty minutes later you were dressed and looking gorgeous. You had on a tight, black dress that showed just the right amount of skin, with a set of sexy red VS underneath (for a bit of a confidence boost, you told yourself)


“Damn.” Andrew said when he saw you. He had straightened out his shirt and, now that you took the time to notice, looked absolutely delectable. “I should fuck you against the wall right now.”


Heat flushed over your face. “Maybe later, gorgeous.” You said, grabbing a clutch and bending down to pick up your wallet, knowing that it gave you friend a full view of your ass. “Let’s go.”


Andrew licked his lips but nodded nevertheless. The two of you set off to The Era and made it there within a few minutes. Immediately, Andrew led you to the front of the queue where you were let in, no questions asked.


The place was booming and full. The loud bass echoed in you ear as Andrew sat you down at the bar and ordered two shots of Tequila. Lights flashed purple and pink and blue, and you saw the way your teal heels glowed in the blue light of the club.


“This place looks awesome.” You told your friend as he handed you a shot. The two of you quickly drowned it.


“It’s supposed to be.” He yelled back over the loud music. “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting your friends here?” You asked, and he smiled cheekily.


“Well, they’re not nearly as gorgeous as you.”

You grinned and stood, making your way to the dance floor and swaying your hips the way you knew he like it. Andrew laughed, but when he came up to you, his eyes were filled with lust.


You danced to the rhythm smoothly, loving the way your hips moved with his. Over the course of the next few hours, you had more and more to drink and soon you were on the dance floor once more, but it wasn’t with Andy.


“Wanna go back to my place?” The guy you were dancing with (James? Alex?) asked in a sultry voice. You grinned at him.


“No.” You giggled, completely pissed “I’m not supposed to go home with strangers.”


“Well I’m sure we can make an exception.” He said and suddenly his hands were roughly grabbing your ass as he made a dive for your lips. You protested against his mouth, but he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as his tongue tried to pass your lips.


Suddenly, he was being pulled off you and your racing heart plummeted. “Fuck off.” A voice said, and fear filled your heart as a second man stood in front of you. You made a move to step back, to get away as quick as possible, but the man was faster.


He estimated your moves and quickly grabbed a hold of you, almost pushing you away from the crowd of people. You struggled against him, but he was too strong and held on to you too tightly as he pushed out of the back door of a club.


You blinked, doing your best to slow down your heart rate and have a rational thought. Your mind began to swin as you looked around, realizing that you were now in a back alley. You needed to get out, now.


“Are you okay?”


You jumped, both from the unexpected question and the hand that now gently rested on your back. In the light of the alley way, you could now see the face of your attacker and let out a sigh of relief.


“Dylan.” You said, as if to confirm that he was real. With a drop of your head, you took a deep breath. “It- it’s you. You. I’m- it’s you.” The panic began to slowly leave your body as you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up whole.


“(Y/N),” he placed a warm hand on your bare arm and suddenly, you realized just how cold it was. “What were you-” he cut himself off, seemingly thinking better than to ask. “Come on. Let’s get you home, okay?”


You nodded, eyes glued to your feet. You felt completely ashamed of yourself, and as your sobriety returned, so did your disgrace. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you wished nothing more than to disappear, or maybe get hit by a bus.


“Did you come here yourself?” Dylan asked, his voice gently. Your head began to each and you didn’t meet his eyes when you answered.


“With Andrew.” You said simply. Dylan took a deep breath, and finally you looked up to see a mixture of anger and hesitance and, most dominantly, fear in his brown eyes.


“Where is he now?” You shrugged, but you were pretty sure he’d run away to get his rocks off with some red headed girl. “Forget it. You can text him. I’ll drive.”


You nodded and Dylan lead you back into the club. You couldn’t help yourself; quickly, you reached for his hand and gripped it tight, making your way through the crowd. The only indication that he’d even noticed was a small moment of hesitance before he carried on.


The drive to the hotel was deadly silent. You barely raised your head, too ashamed of what happened to say a word. Dylan had opened his mouth to say something twice, but nothing came out.


“One & Only.” Dylan announced when the car came to a stop. “Someone told me it’s really amazing.”


You looked up, opening your mouth to thank him before realizing something. “Shit.” You said instead and Dylan raised a brow.


“Not that.” A flush covered your face. “I left my bag at the club. I- I’ve got my phone, but my key card was in there. They’re gonna give me hell at the front desk.”


You promptly clamped your mouth shut. “Fuck it. I’m so sorry about all of this. I- I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there tonight. So, um thanks.”


Quickly, you made a move for the handle of the door but Dylan’s voice stopped you. “Wait.” He said and you turned to look at him. He looked uncertain, but there was no lie in his voice when he spoke. “You’ve had a shit night and I’m sure you don’t want to deal with more drama. You can stay at my hotel tonight. Deal with all this tomorrow.”


'I don’t want your pity’ you wanted to snap, but honestly the thought of having a warm bed to crawl in to was far more comforting. “Thank you.” You said instead, and Dylan started up the car again.


The drive to his hotel is spent in silence as well, but it felt a lot less tense.


“What were you doing?” Dylan finally asked, five minutes into the drive. You sighed, looking out the window. “I’m serious (Y/N). I thought you were smarter than that.”


“Well, I guess a lot can change in five fucking years.” You snapped, then immediately felt guilty for it and sealed your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”


After a beat, Dyaln spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.” He said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It’s just,- God the way that guy was looking at you. I thought he was gonna strip you down and fuck you raw right then and there.” You grinned in spite of yourself, and pretended to not hear Dylan’s quiet mumble of 'That’s what I would’ve done’.


A laugh left your lips. “First day here and I’m already making stories to tell my grandkids one day.”


“You’re gonna tell your grandkids that?” He asked in a mock horrified voice. You laughed again.


“Yeah.” You grinned. “Gotta tell them how not to fuck up. All the shit they shouldn’t do coz they’re gonna regret it a couple years down the road.”


Dylan smiled, but it was a little sad. “We all do stupid shit that we regret.”


The two of you fell into silence once more, only now you were both lost in deep thought. You’d give anything, you thought, to take a look at what was happening inside that pretty little head of his right now.


A few minutes later, Dylan pulled up into a parking space. You didn’t recognize the hotel, but it had a beautiful view of Table Mountain, which was currently glowing with the city lights. He saw the way your eyes stared and laughed.


“Yeah, pretty much the only reason I picked this place.” He got out of the car and you followed, keeping close by. Once you two had gotten into the lobby, you took off your heels and padded with bare feet to the elevator and into Dylan’s suit.


“You can take the bed.” He told you, taking off his shoes and popping his shoulders.


“No, it’s fine.” You said, switching your phone on to see a couple of messages from Andrew. Ignoring them for the time being, you walked over to the couch. “I’m good here.” You we’re sure that you would pass out the moment your head hit the pillow, but Dylan’s laugh stopped you from doing so.


“You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” He said gently and you sat up. “Take the bed.” He motioned with his head to a door on the wall next to the balcony. “I’ll get you some water and aspirin and then you can pass out, then it won’t be as bad in the morning.”


Your mouth opened to argue, but Dylan was already at the small kitchenette and you didn’t have the energy to speak loudly, your throat already burning from the too strong tequila. Instead, you stood and stretched and made you way to the bedroom.


Sitting on the bed, you allowed the events of the last six hours to pour over you. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you felt. Honestly, you stopped speaking to Dylan entirely more than three years ago, when he said that he didn’t feel right talking to his ex while being so serious about another girl. To show up now, completely pissed and sleep in his bed was a testament to how utterly fucked up the last few months of your life had been.


You almost stood to call an Uber, but the door opened before you could. “Here.” Dylan walked up to you with a glass and two pills in his hands. “You’ll feel better in the morning,” he paused. “Or at least better than you would have.”


A grateful smile stitched itself onto your face. “Thank you.” You said, and really really meant it. It had been a long time since you had felt this taken cared of, this much at home. Dylan smiled down at you, staring into the depths of your eyes.


A long moment passed before he looked away.


“Um,” he walked across the room to where a set of bags sat, still packed. You wondered how long he’d been here. He dug into the bag and came back up with a white T-shirt which he tossed at you. “That’s probably more comfortable, than well-” he raked his eyes down your form and you blushed gently.


“Thanks.” Your head was ducked so you missed the way his eyes darkened.


“I’ll just- um,” he made a gesture to the door then pretty much ran out of it. You laughed gently, reaching behind you dress to pull the zipper off and walking to the mirror.


By some will of God your makeup had remained mostly in place. You dropped the black dress and smiled slightly, remembering how sexy you had felt when you first put on the lacey red bra and panties.


“I forgot to get a pillow-”


You spun around at the sound of Dylan’s voice, arms reaching up to cover yourself on instinct. The dark haired boy stood halfway in the door frame, apparently frozen and staring at your body.


There was a moments hesitation, where uncertainty hung in the air and neither of you knew what to do. It was only a moment.


“Ah, fuck it.”


Dylan crossed the room in three quick strides and was in front of you a second later. His hands cupped your jaw and titled your head up, lips meeting in a frantic kiss.


You arms wrapped themselves around us shoulders, pulling him closer as his mouth devoured your own. You moaned softly against him and felt the shudder that hit his body at the sound. You filled with pride, knowing that you could still get that reaction out of him.


“Wait.” You breathed, pulling back. Dylan looked at you with concern. “You have a girlfriend.”


He looked sheepish. “Yeah, I might have lied a bit.” You chuckled slightly at his confession, and Dylan smiled slightly. “Do you wanna stop?” He asked, and despite the lust in his eyes, you knew that he was being serious.


“Don’t you dare.” You warned, reconnecting your lips with a kiss more feverant than the last. Dylan chuckled slightly, but met you kiss for kiss as his hands began to trail down your body.


“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, eyes still closed. You felt his hands reached behind you as he unclasped your bra, kissing down your neck. The fabric fell down your arms, and you were sure Dyaln did something to it but you didn’t care.


His hands began fondling you. He gently caressed the soft skin of your supple breasts, as you arched into him. He cupped you firmly, a thumb running over you nipple, which had been hard from the cold air as well as the heat.


“Well that’s hardly fair.” You said, tugging at his shirt. Dylan got the message and pulled back, striping down completely before you pulling you back in, pushing a knee between your legs.


You moaned loudly. “Better?” He asked, hands moving to your thighs. You brought his lips back to your and kissed him passionately as he squeezed your ass and pulled you forward. You got the message, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist while he carried you to the bed.


His tongue battled with yours for dominance which you happily surrendered as he explored your mouth, his body moving against yours. You reach a hand between your bodies and found his cock.


Wrapping your fingers around his member, you began to pump him quickly, running your finger over the slit. Dylan moaned and pulled away. “If you don’t stop, this is gonna be a really shitty night for you.”


You laughed slightly. “Then what are you waiting for?” Dylan grinned, reaching to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. He tore the packet with his teeth, *fuck* and rolled the rubber down his length. You watch with a watering mouth.


“I wanna blow you.” You said. “But later.” Dylan moaned at your words and leaned down again to kiss you. He positioned himself at your entrance and nibbled on your jaw as he pushed in.


You moaned, your nails digging into his back. Dylan let out a gruff chuckle. “God, how are you so fucking tight?” He asked, pulling back almost completely before thrusting in again, hard.


“Oh,” You breathed, hands find his jaw and stroking it gently as you pulled him down for another kiss. His hands were on either side of your head as he kissed you passionately, and you moaned desperatly, wanting more.


Dylan didn’t move.


“Please.” You begged, pulling away for air. Dylan smirked down at you.


“Please what?” He asked teasingly. You groaned softly.


“Please fuck me.” He chuckled, pulling out and thrusting in, slowly.


“Like that?” He asked, his voice deep and raspy. You wanted to scream. He sounded so smooth and sexy, and looking at you with that smug little smirk on his face, you knew you wouldn’t last long.


“Harder. Faster.” You begged, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and dragging them down. Dylan moaned, and you loved the feeling of his hard, thick muscles under your hands.


Suddenly, he pulled out and began slamming in to you, his pace quick and brutal. You let out a screaming moan as Dylan’s hips slammed against the inside of your thighs.


“Oh God, Dyl!” You moaned, clutching on to him for dear life. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”


“So beautiful.” He said softly. “Laying there, holding onto to me so tight. So wet for me, baby.” He moaned, thrusting in harder.


He reached a hand between your bodies and pressed a thumb to your clit, not letting up at all on his brutal pace. You lasted two seconds before you came with his name on your tongue and his hands in your hair.


With a rushed warning, he followed you over the edge one, two, three thrusts later, spilling into the condom and laying over you. He supported his weight on him forearms, as not to crush you, as he looked down at you with something akin to love in his eyes.


For a long while the two of you stayed like that, basking in the glory of afterglow. You stared up at him, remembering, wondering how you’d given it up the first time.


“I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that again.” He admitted, leaning down and kissing your parted lips. You smiled into it.


“Never thought I’d say it, either.” He smiled, pulling out of you and getting up. He walked to the bathroom and got rid of the condom, coming back with a wet towel which he placed delicately between your legs.


Your hips moved up at the touch. He chuckled slightly, cleaning you up and putting the towel back. “I was a bit brutal,” he admitted, joining you in bed, and pulling you close.


“I loved it.” You assured him, tucking yourself into his chest. Dylan sighed and you could feel the tension draining out of him.


“Dylan” you said softly. “Promise me this isn’t gonna be it.”


“I promise.” He didn’t even hesitate. “And you, promise me this isn’t gonna be one of those things we all do that we regret.”


“I promise.”

Don’t BE salty or bitter, DESCRIBE it. (FOOD VOCAB pt. 2.)

No one likes bland food, so obviously no one likes bland food descriptions. Due to Korea’s love for food, there’s an incredible amount of ways to describe food. We’re going to look at some fun ways to describe food beyond the basic 맵다, 달다, etc. Because there are so many adjectives, they each have subtle differences, so each one has an example with it. These are arranged from top to bottom by strength.

Girl you salty,

짜디짜다 – Too salty. (Ex. saltines)
짜디짠 바닷물을 마시니까 정신이 번쩍 든다. - Drinking the really salty seawater shocks me back to my senses.

짭조름하다 – Slightly salty. (Ex. seaweed)
바다에 오니까 공기에서 짭조름한 맛이 느껴져. - Just coming to the beach I can taste the saltiness in the air.

짭짤하다 – Slightly salty, but makes you want to keep eating it. (Ex. potato chips)
맥도날드에서 프랜치 후라이를 더 짭짤하게 먹고 싶으면 소금 더 쳐달라고 하면 돼. - If you want your fries to be extra salty at McDonalds, then you can ask them to put more salt on.

간간하다 – Just the right amount of saltiness (Ex. soup)
설랑탕의 간이 간간해서 딱 좋아. - The ox-bone soup’s perfect because the seasoning is on point.

Don’t be bitter,

쓰디쓰다 – Very bitter (ex. Espresso)
쓰디쓴 에스프레소를 내 고독과 마신다. - I drink this overly bitter espresso with my solitude.

쌉쌀하다 – Bitter (ex. Coffee, Medicine)
티백을 너무 오래 두면 맛이 쌉쌀해지더라. - If you leave a teabag in too long it’ll become bitter.

씁쓰름하다 – Slightly bitter (ex. Arugula)
봄나물은 씁쓰름한 맛에 먹는거지. - You eat the spring greens to taste the slight bitterness.

Blander than bland-flakes,

밍밍하다 / 맹맹하다 – Very bland, no taste
이 주스 너무 밍밍한데? 물 탄 거 아니야? - This juice is too bland. Is it mixed with water?

심심하다 – Bland (also means boring)
간을 안한 스크램블 에그는 너무 심심하지 않아? - Aren’t unseasoned scrambled eggs a bit bland (boring)?

싱겁다 – Under-seasoned, slightly bland
싱거우신 분들은 옆에 다대기를 원하시는만큼 넣으세요. - Anyone who thinks the soup is a little bland, you can add as much of the pepper paste next to you as you want.

I Don’t Even Know Your Name: Part One

Request: Can you do a request where y/n is a singer and she isn’t that famous but Shawn is like enamored by her and he sorta brings her to fame and she’s super shy and idk fluffy ending with some fluffy kisses???? 

A/N: At first this was meant to be just one imagine, but the plot that I came up with in my head is actually more lengthy than I planned. So I decided to make this into a series! 

Part Two 


Shawn watched the clock as he held his phone in his hands, bouncing his knee up and down. Time was ticking slower the more he could feel his anticipation grow. He’s been waiting for this the whole day. The possibility of miscalculating time zones constantly ran through his mind, but he made sure his math wasn’t even off by a minute. Her tweet did, in fact, say seven that night sharp and he was only five hours behind.

His phone suddenly interrupted the silence with a loud buzz, followed by a ding. Quickly clicking on the notification, he felt an immense amount of relief to see her face taking up the whole phone screen. She was obviously dressed for comfort with an oversized hoodie and her hair out of the way. A guitar rested on her lap, her body leaning over it as she scrolled through the comments.

“Good afternoon, well night,” she laughed. He watched as she gestured towards to what looked like her bedroom window. It was pitch black outside already. “Or morning. Depends where you are.”

Afternoon, Shawn thought to himself.

If only the whole world knew how much he was infatuated with her. At first, she was just one of those small singers that he would see when he scrolled through Instagram, but there was something about her that had caught his eye. Maybe it was the way she put her own twist on everything she did or the cute little wrinkle she would get whenever she scrunched up her face while singing a certain part. There were a million things.

“Good news, I’ve actually been writing a whole lot. I just have to start recording. It’s gonna take forever, but you guys are gonna like it.” She turned the camera towards a little corner in her room. “The next few weeks are gonna be spent right over there.” A microphone along with a whole set up consisting of a laptop and other equipment sat on a desk. “It’s my little makeshift recording studio.”

Shawn couldn’t imagine trying to record a song all by himself. There were so many technical things that went into it, but she did it all on her own. No record labels, no assistance, no nothing. It was just her, which was another thing he found captivating.

Her fingers gently strummed the strings, playing a soft chord. Shawn tried to figure out what tune she was humming, but he had no luck.

“I’ve been listening to The Neighborhood so much lately, so here’s a little taste of their song called The Beach,” she said repositioning herself.

If I told you that I loved you
Tell me, what would you say?
If I told you that I hated you
Would you go away?
Now I need your help with everything that I do
I don’t want to lie, I’ve been relying on you

All the stress that he carried on his shoulders melted away as soon as she started singing. There had always been something different about her voice that hit him like no other. Maybe it was how smooth it was, or the little rasp that would come out every once in awhile. He had never heard a voice quite like hers.

Fallin’ again, I need a pick-me-up
I’ve been callin’ you friend, I might need to give it up

I’m sick and I’m tired too
I can admit, I am not fireproof
I feel it burning me
I feel it burning you
I hope I don’t murder me
I hope I don’t burden you
If I do, I do

Her strumming had gotten louder, and so did her voice. Her eyes were closed with her eyebrows drawn close together, showing that little wrinkle he oh so loved. He could tell the chorus meant a lot to her and it worried him because there had to be a reason why. Judging by the lyrics, it couldn’t be a good one.

If I meet you in the middle maybe we could agree
You make me feel little how you’re looking at me
And you can throw me shade, all it does is just cool me off
First it just threw me off, now I’m just moving on

She couldn’t hide the smile that had etched onto her face as she sang the second verse, which told him that whatever caused the pain in the chorus was definitely gone now. Shawn started to feel himself smile along with her.

She finished the song with a small hum and opened her eyes again. Typically, her live streams started with a song that she picked out and one more that the viewers would request. Some days it would just be her messing around while answering questions. Today just happened to be the lucky day that she did both.

“What did I have for breakfast? Very strange question, but I had a parfait. I’m sorry if you were expecting pancakes or something,” she giggled.

“What’s my opinion on brown eyes? One hundred percent the most underrated eye color in the world. All the time I see brown-eyed people try to cover it up, and become really self-conscious along the way. It isn’t really such a big issue now, but I remember seeing it all the time back then and I was absolutely baffled by it. Sure, brown is the most common, but they’re definitely the most diverse in my opinion. There are so many shades!”

Shawn could feel his cheeks flush at the mention of even the tiniest relation to him. He never really thought about his own eye color until then. It was only a little part of him, but somehow she had put so much more meaning into it. It was a gift of hers, finding the simplest of things and making it sound like so much more, that is. It was one of the things that made her such a great songwriter.

“What do you think of Shawn Mendes?”

The mention of his name, more like the sound of her voice saying it, snapped him out of his thoughts, immediately putting him on edge. It felt like everything stopped and the only things that were moving were his heartbeat, that alarmingly pumped faster, and his leg that wouldn’t stop shaking. It was pathetic how much of an effect she had on him. An effect that she had even though she had never spoken to him.

“Where do I even begin?” she beamed, putting her hands up to her cheeks. A lame attempt to try and hide her heated face. “I’m not really one to listen to pop music that often, but his music is so good. I don’t know how he does it, a genius right there. Go listen to his new album if you haven’t already.”

Now he was the one who was blushing mad. Shawn was pretty sure he forgot how to breathe or how to do anything in fact. She listened to his music, gushed about it in fact. And there she sat, oblivious to the fact that the very person who she was talking about was watching her.

The connection lagged a little as she continued on, “Looks like you guys want me to cover him, which I’m totally down with.” Shawn couldn’t even think at this point. Now she was going to sing his song. The lyrics that he wrote. The chords that he recorded.

“Here’s I Don’t Even Know Your Name because it’s one of my favorites,” she smiled at the camera, which totally brought him back down to Earth. His heart fluttered when she started to sing again.

He remembered writing Handwritten, more specifically that song. When he finally came up with lyrics to the melody that he had been working on for so long, he was so proud of something that had turned out to be so good.

But it sounded even better when she sang it. She added something to the song that he couldn’t describe. He was able to pick out the way she added a soft high note in one line of the chorus and changed the order of some notes. Shawn didn’t know how she did it all so easily, but it was brilliant.

Even long after the live stream ended, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. One of her fans had recorded it and posted it on the internet so he could rewatch it anytime he wanted. And boy he did. He listened to it in the shower, the car, everywhere really.

Even backstage.

The show wasn’t supposed to start until five hours later and he didn’t have anything else to do. Soundcheck was already done and the Q&A wasn’t for a long time, so here he was. Listening to her again.

“Dude, I’m seriously starting to think you’re in love with her,” Geoff joked from the couch opposite of him. Shawn was laying down on the couch, balancing his laptop on his chest while he binge watched more of her covers.

Matt let out a laugh from behind him, “He probably is.” Rolling his eyes, he sat up and looked at the both of them.

“You don’t understand. She’s absolutely am—”

“Amazing, we know,” the two boys finished for him.

“And that she deserves more recognition and that she’s an amazing writer and….” he took a deep breath, “she’s really cute.” Shawn watched him with his eyebrows raised as he ticked off every statement with a finger on his hand.

“And don’t forget that she listens to your music!” Matt jumped in, ruffling his already messed up hair. “You know, you should give her a little shout out or something on Twitter. It’s pretty obvious how good she is, and I don’t think you’ll stop rambling about her until you do.”

Shawn chuckled at the last bit, flicking the back of Matt’s snap back off his head as he stood up and stretched. Needing a change of scenery, well walls, he shuffled towards the bathroom and leaned his hands on the counter. Matt’s words were still ringing in his ears, and Shawn had no idea how the idea didn’t come to him in the first place. It would definitely help her out, and that’s all it took for him to whip out his phone.

He quickly opened Twitter and as he hovered his thumb over the keyboard, he froze. What was he supposed to say? There were so many things about her. One hundred forty characters weren’t enough.

The next five minutes were spent typing a sentence or two out, but reading it over and erasing it. He didn’t want to say a simple “check this girl out, she’s really good” kind of thing. She was more than good. But he didn’t want to write too much. Everyone would probably think he was desperate, or something else the media can come up with.

It completely confused him why he was having such a hard time. He always knew what to say. Words easily rolled off his tongue.

Stop overthinking it, he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t be this hard. A minute passed when he felt his thumbs move on their own. He read the sentences over and over. Doubt started to cloud his thinking again. “You know what? Fuck it,” Shawn seethed and he pushed the submit button.

There was no going back now. Millions of people were reading it now, and he hoped she was too.