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OMG HIIII I DIDNT KNOW YOU HAVE TUMBLR :D YAYY YIPPEE
HI HI HI!!! YES I HAVE A TUMBLR!!! BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING!!! :D
I'M SO. FLATTERED. THAT YOU DECIDED TO FOLLOW ME.... LOOKS YOU DEEP IN THE EYES. I LOVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR HUSBAND YOU GUYS ARE INCREDIBLE AND I LUV SEEING YOUR POSTS ABT HIM ♡
doodle for u....
AAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH IM GOING TO EXPLODE IM SO HAPPY WHAAAA DFSHJFGVHFGDHVJ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVER I!!!! OMGGG💗💗💗!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
RUNNING AROUND THE ROOM SQUEALING RIGHT NOW WAAAAAAA IM SO GRATEFUL-!!!
holy crap twitter oomf. twitter oomf on tumblr (p03tism
𝙮𝙤𝙪............
your name has been stuck in my head all day today
OMG HI ANON THIS IS SO SWEET FDHJFDGH 💞💞💞!!!!!!!!! im running around the room, up and down the walls...... im so joyous eeeeeeee <3!!!!!
Your posts are so stupid and annoying. Dumb bitch. 100% guarantee your insecure ass is gonna date for desperation and get abused.
That’s crazyyy that you’re not mature enough to actually show who you are and posting this anonymously.
You’re not hurting anyone’s feelings by bullying them while you hide behind a screen.
And if you think that they’re “stupid” and “annoying” than see yourself off of my page and just don’t read them. Best believe that you aren’t doing me any harm in leaving🚪🤷♀️. It’s just that easy.
Seeing all this All-Star games, and all of the Justin Bieber content on my TikTok, I’m debating on a Auston Matthews x bieber!reader🤔
◈ yeeyee
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when kian gets past the point of drunk, teetering ever so lightly on hammered, he gets a little clingy, a little giggly, and a lot honest. it’s really a recipe for disaster. somewhere in his foggy mind, he knows this and his subconscious is screaming at him to just go home. but he doesn’t listen. “can i stay with you tonight?” he practically whines, arms wrapped around moonsu’s neck as he hangs off of him. he knows he’ll say yes, but he pouts anyway. it’s dangerous to be in this position when you’re not an entirely honest person, but it’s freeing. which is something that kian very rarely feels these days. “we can do whatever you want.” he sings, pressing his nose against the boy’s cheek. he kisses the soft skin there then presses another to the corner of his mouth.
dropping one hand from around his neck, he lets it trail over his chest then circles around and hops on moonsu’s back without permission. “you’re so nice, susu.” he compliments, nuzzling his nose behind the other’s ear. “i wish you weren’t, i wish you were mean. then maybe i wouldn’t feel so bad every time we’re together.” he confesses, closing his eyes as he leans all of his body weight on him. “everything would be a lot easier if you just hated me.” he mumbles. “i’m not supposed to feel bad, i never do. but you’re just so … nice.” he repeats again. “stop being nice, seriously.” he chastises. “so when i hurt you, i won’t feel guilty.”
✦
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kian is good at what he does, good at pretending to be someone he’s not but, every now and then, the cracks start to show. especially when he’s had a bit to drink, his face flushed, and vision blurry. that’s when he truly has to be careful because, if not, pieces of the real kian show through. pieces he wants no one to see. it’s in times like these that he wishes he lived alone, but he doesn’t. he has a roommate; one that, admittedly, may be his favorite plaything. which is somewhat disastrous because while, in normal circumstances, he bathes in the admiration and the attention that seojun gives him, in others, he finds himself ready to snap. sometimes he needs to be alone, to get his head together, and this is one of those times. he can’t be pretend kian right now, he just can’t. he doesn’t have it in him. but he also doesn’t want seojun to see. “can you just—” he grits his teeth, fitting his hands between their bodies to shove the other boy away, “back off?!”
his eyes narrow, brows knitting together. “i’m fine.” he states, emphasizing the period of his sentence for finality. he doesn’t want to argue, he just wants to go to bed. “you don’t need to babysit me, you’re not my mother.” he throws out, the words bitter on his tongue and slightly slurred. he stumbles over his own feet, but catches himself on the armrest of their worn down couch. “i can get drunk if i want to, when i want to.” he adds, but he’s really just arguing with the air at this point. seojun is too nice for this type of confrontation. especially when it comes to kian. he shrugs off his jacket and kicks off his shoes, tripping over the laces. he curses under his breath, but doesn’t let it stop him on the way to his room. “goodnight!” he calls over his shoulder, raising his hand to wave him off.
✪
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being stuck in an elevator, he thinks, is a blessing in disguise. most people would see it as something to fear or something to be frustrated over, but kian only sees it as an opportunity. or, at least, he would if he were stuck in one with literally anyone else other than jiwon. the two of them are like a hurricane meeting a tornado and his usual facade of the nice boy who goes to church every sunday doesn’t seem to faze her. they butt heads way more than they probably should, but he can’t deny that he kind of likes it; revels in it, in fact. “you know,” he starts, leaning his head back against the metal wall, “this would be a great time for us to really get to the root of our problems.” he suggests, his head lolling to the side to look at her. “i don’t wanna leave anything unresolved as i cross over into the afterlife.”
he smiles, but he doesn’t even believe it’s all sweet and innocent himself. “or a good hate-fuck might be the way to go. leave this world with a bang, right?” he suggests, breathing a light laugh through his nose. he means for it to come off as a joke, of course, because that’s what pretend kian would do. but, if she was down, then he would be too. “i mean, i know i’m suppose to save myself for marriage but—” he trails his finger down the wall, watching his reflection, “i think god would give me a pass. don’t you think?” he quirks a brow, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
In your fan comic Late night snack, what is your OC doing to Blitzø in the last panel, what is that black ooze coming out of Blitzø????
So that is actually Blitz's emotional essence ^^, kinda like the physical form of his self loathing / negative emotions that Nectar is extracting from him :p
What do you think of Blitzø???
He's quite silly :] Definitely in my top 10 ^^
He also tends to be in some of the best pieces of animation in the show which I super enjoy!! (especially the fight in the ghost episode <3 <3)
I do REALLY wanna see more of him and Barbie, although I don't think we will 😖
TRICK OR TREAT!!!!
AAAAAA THANK YOU FOR THE TRICK OR TREAT INBOX!!! have some of my favorite candies and goodies <3333
they're mostly asian snacks and you can have a snoopy plush since I love snoopy :)
Do you take requests?
Yeah! Absolutely
Send this to ten other blogs who deserve all the love in the world 💕💕
Aww thank u my friend😭🥹♥️
AAAAAAA I JUST FINISHED BAND OF BROTHERS 😭😭😭
LMAO AND U GOOD?😭
Hey yall! I just opened my inbox! Feel free to ask any questions or send me things! :)
OH HOLY FART I WANNA TRICK OR TREAT!!!!
Trick or Treat :3
Here is your candy and a cute spider toy :3
(Yes I do inbox trick or treating even after Halloween)
i like to think that ppl come to farmer for comfort or jst to genuinely hangout... requesting sam coming to farmer's house in the middle of the night as he confides in them w hot chocolate / coffee / tea 👉🏻👈🏻
apple cider
pairing: sam x reader
wc: 1.6k
tags: MILD hurt/comfort, pre-relationship, they are friends here!!
synopsis: sticky summer nights always make you feel a little restless.
a/n: its been 2 months with no sam fic!!!! here is my sincere apology hehe. title from apple cider by beabadoobee. this ask is so cute anon mwa mwa
Nothing ever truly rests during the summer; not even during the night.
Fireflies flicker and fly, weaving through the sparse grass beds sprouting from under your porch. The dark is hardly dark, your eyes have adjusted to the sparse light emanating from your dingy porch light. Your cardigan is haphazardly thrown off, draped over the hand-carved trellis. Bare feet meet the grass; damp and cool against your heated skin.
Energy thrums through the air, electrifying it with the undercutting buzz that leaves you wide awake. The season leaves the nights tepid, leaving your skin sticky.
You can’t sleep; not one bit tuckered out after a whole day toiling the fields. Though your mind is blissfully blank, your hands are preoccupied with bringing your mug to your lips.
The cacophony of crickets chirping echo through the flat farmlands of your property. It’s quiet, peaceful. Yet you are wide-eyed and awake, sipping on herbal tea—a mixture of herbs from your crop beds—in the hopes you can knock yourself out.
You are hyper aware of your surroundings, unable to pull yourself into the sleepy state you want. You feel the sheen of sweat drying on your skin, the warm summer breeze tickling the nape of your neck, the sweet smell of almost-ripe melons growing on your farm. The rhythmic sound of trees swaying with the wind.
The odd sound of a twig snapping is enough to pull you out of your reverie.
Your gaze snaps to the side, past your mailbox and to the dark path leading to town. Eyes adjusted to the dark, you see vague impressions of familiar surroundings. You drag your eyes to and fro, scanning.
A head of blond hair flashes through the otherwise dark veil of night, lamplight catching the brilliant golden hues of it. Doubting your eyes you furrow your brow; squinting your eyes, shifting on the porch steps, aiming to get a clearer look. Your mug is forgotten on your lap.
The figure shifts, tilting their head upwards and towards your direction. Then blue eyes lock with yours, the warm light of your porch lantern illuminating his expression. Recognition dawns on your face—
“Sam?”
Sam stops mid-step, face contorting into shock that outdoes your own. He flails, struggling with his words as to why in the world he’s caught on your farm in the wee hours of the night.
Both of you freeze, staring at each other in silence. Your fingers tighten then loosen around your mug. A tight line is made out of your lips.
“What are you doing?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion.
“It’s not what you think!” he holds his hands up in immediate surrender. “I was walking, and—and, my mind was blank. I just followed the path, I swear.”
You blink, once then twice. “Sam—”
“And–and,” he blabbers, “I guess… your farm was the best bet… The safest.”
That eases the nervous pitter-patter of your heart. It’s rare you get anyone on the farm aside from Lewis this late. You’re relieved, perplexed by his skittish behavior. It goes against what you already know about him.
Your eyes crinkle whilst you squint up at him, giving him a once-over. Like this, he reminds you of a teenager caught red-handed, eyes practically bulging out of his head with anxiousness.
An amused chuckle slips past your lips before you register it, smiling. “Sam. Can I speak?”
Sam turns back to face you, finally still. It gives you a clearer look at his appearance. Wild flaxen locks are tapered down by the beanie shoved over his head. His shirt is inside out, hanging awkwardly on his frame. He looks like he just rolled out of bed.
“Oh—oh yeah… my bad.”
A hand goes to pick back up your mug. “You’re good.” You take a sip of your tea. “Plus, I’m not bothered.”
“Oh…” Relief lets his shoulders go lax with a puffed breath. Then he looks back at you, conflicted on his face. “Hang on...You think me walking into your private property is—nothing?”
You snort. “You’re the last person I’d think would be worried about that.”
Sam paces, rocking back and forth on his heels, sporting a grim frown on his face. His gaze drops back down to the path, kicking at the pebbles. You wince internally; he doesn’t seem in good enough shape for jokes. It tugs at your heartstrings, a deep sigh pulled from your mouth and out into the humid air.
“Kidding. But it’s really no biggie.” you wave off. “Come by whenever. I’m always restless during the summer.”
He stares, breathing uneven and nervous. “Seriously?”
You nod, unusually calm in the face of his supposed trespassing. “It’s a me problem. It’s too humid to sleep comfortably. I even get more tired once I wake—”
“No, I mean,” he interjects, eyes wide. “I can come over? Anytime?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, rolling the muscles in your shoulders. “I’d love your company.”
“But what if you’re busy?”
“You’ll have to help me in the fields, then.” you tease, eyes crinkling. “You’ve got good legs for it already.”
A grin cuts through the grim lines of his face, “Are you 100% sure?”
You nod, eagerly. “Mhm.”
“Ah,” he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “That’s good. Super good. I wanted… well, I was kinda hoping to see you too.”
“Well now you’ve seen me.”
“Yeah, I’m glad. But ugh—I dunno, I guess my head’s a little messed up right now.” He runs a hand over his face, a frustrated groan along with it.
You watch him. There is never a part of him that keeps still, even now.
Maybe that’s why the words seem to come out so naturally when you’re with Sam. The restlessness—always grasping, bouncing, and shifting. “D’ya wanna come inside? Maybe it could help.”
“Yes, yeah. I want to.” he replies, instantly but then he double takes, checking in with you. “Can I?”
“I invited you too,” you laugh, pulling yourself up. “Calm down Sam, you’re fine.”
“Come in,” you call, pushing open your door. You do not turn and wait for him, traveling through the dark with the familiarity one has only in their own home.
You hear him pulling off his shoes by the doorway, then the padding of his feet trailing after yours.
Humming, you switch on your lamplight, propping it up on your kitchen table, pulling the chair back for Sam to sit in. You set your mug down on the opposite side.
The cabinet creaks when you swing it open, revealing your countless containers of seasonings and spices collected over the seasons. The rich smell of all of it mingling together wafts through your nose.
A pack of apple cider bottles stands by the cinnamon sticks, a welcome gift from months ago you haven’t gotten into yet.
You tilt your head back to glance at him, finding him sitting statue-still in your chair, then turn back to your cabinet.
“I have some apple cider, you want some?”
His eyes snap to yours, “Oh, yeah.”
Nodding, you tiptoe, grasping the glass bottle by the neck from the far end of the cabinet.
You sit the bottle down on the counter, popping off the cap with the flat edge of a knife. The cider fizzes, bubbling up until the neck then reducing. The sharp fruity scent of carbonation and apple mingles with the humid air. Sam takes it from your outstretched hand with a murmured ‘thanks’.
You sit opposite him. With your legs pulled up to your chest, you wiggle in your seat, leaning your cheek against your knees. Your eyes low as you cradle your own drink in your hands. Sam takes slow sips of the cider, the bubbles painting the edges of his lips then fizzing away.
It feels natural to watch him like this, like all normal neighborly decorum has flown out the window, making room for this—whatever this silent companionship may bring.
Curious, you break the veil of silence. “So what brings you here?”
Sam runs his tongue over his bottom lip, catching the stray drop of apple cider by the corner. His gaze goes faraway, eyebrows furrowing automatically without him aware. He’s silent as he thinks over your question, face contorting.
“Just—something at home, I guess. I wanted a breather.”
You swirl the string of your teabag, looking up from under your lashes. “Family stuff?”
“...Yeah, family stuff.”
You hum, voice low. You have a faint idea on what he’s talking about. Sam’s father, Kent, has been having a difficult time adjusting back to civilian life after being discharged—you heard.
Your eyes track over his form, his shoulder hunched and lower than you’ve ever seen them. Under the low light of your kitchen table, you pinpoint the signs of weariness marking his face—eye bags under his eyes and a perpetual wrinkle in his brow deep enough you see the shadow of it under his mess of hair.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t feel like it,” you simply say.
You look out the windows, eyes tracking the swirling the flickering lights of lightning bugs outside. Gaze low as you stew in silence. Your fingers tap idly at the table. You feel calmer, sleepier. That persistent buzzing under your skin dissipating into the boneless way you sit.
There will be more sticky summer nights like these, you’re sure. Maybe he’ll share what’s on his mind then but right now, you’re quite content with the silence. It cradles you like a refreshingly cool gust of air, tapering the heated expanse of your skin.
“Maybe next time,” Sam murmurs, staring into the steaming cup. “When I come over again.”
A smile unfurls on your lips when he raises his head to look at you. “When you come over again.”
YOUR SAM FICS FGGGHKLO IM LITERALKY SALIVATING THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE 🫡‼️
I WILL FOREVER BE AT THE FRONT LINES MAKING SAM SDV CONTENT!!!
your haley fic has me in a chokehold, I hope you write more soon omg.
let l me marry your writing please… i beg
AWWWW!!! thank you 😭😭❤️❤️
haley is my #1 girl and through that fic i discovered how much i really liked her lol!
as for writing more, ik ive been in kinda a slump recently but i have this wip that i feel is reallllyyyy promising (with haley too!!)
tell me abour ur ocs ,, PLEAASSEEE.... (holding out a empty bowl)
gladly!!! though they dont have any correlation with stardew valley whatsoever, they still hold such a special place in my heart❤️ i think i made them 2-3 years ago…
(under the cut!)
LILOU OLIVA
(she’s the oldest character ive made so far! i remember when i first made her, she had bright pink hair LOL)
here are some fun facts about her:
she’s filipino; her skin’s on the tanner side and she has really thick wavy hair
lilou lives by the seaside in a little apartment above a convenience store.
she likes to cook and bake; even make jams and pickles (this is kinda sdv related 😭)
lilou’s 5’5 but has the guts of a much taller person…
she has an arm tattoo of stars that was made by her younger brother!
lastly, she used to have a scholarship at this prestigious school but was dropped 🤷♀️
INIGO OLIVA
(this is lilou’s younger brother)
fun facts about inigo:
he’s 3 years younger than his older sister but is way taller (5’9 ft)
inigo is very artsy, he likes mediums where he can keep his hands busy (pottery, sculpting)
he doesn’t technically have a permanent home—he likes travelling and backpacking a lot (but if he had to name a place home, it would be his sister’s house)
he likes experimenting with different art mediums a lot—he’s tried piercing, hair dying, tattooing and all sorts of things
inigo is a sweetheart, a little cutiepatootie… he has my whole heart!
i actually have 3 more but they’re more… intense than inigo and lilou so im a bit apprehensive to share 😭 but! they are part of a story i’ve been developing for quite some time and i love them a whole lot
loved your haley fic so much!! i reread it immediately after reading it and haven't been able to stop thinking about it since <3
omg… anon…
WE SHALL HAVE A SUMMER WEDDING.