#seashells [writing]

[hibischush]

Hii! Could you write March falling in love with the farmer and everyone around him noticing but the farmer? I think it would make him go completely crazy xD

sure thing! 🌺

March didn't even realize it until Elsie literally spelt it out for him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He bristled, crossing his arms against his chest.

Elsie let out one of her elegant laughs and patted him on the shoulder. 

"Sure you don't, dear."

March blinked.

Elsie's eyes widened with surprise. "Oh my stars! You truly don't know, do you?" she guffawed, and everyone in the carpenters' shop turned to look at them.

It was odd to see Elsie here whilst Olric and himself visited Landen and Ryis, but not entirely unbelievable. What March didn't expect was for him to be mercilessly attacked by the older woman about his love life.

He blushed. He shouldn't have mentioned that stupid farmer. 

"Everyone knows that you have harbored feelings for the farmer, honey. There isn't any shame in admitting that."

---

It developed all too quickly a few months back. It was March's birthday. And it was raining.

He really didn't mind that it was so dreary-- he was going to work for most of the day and then celebrate with his brother and Ryis at the Inn.

He sat behind the counter, rolling a pen up and down the table. Not many people come in to purchase weapons or armor. Except for that infuriating farmer.

March has had to make several suits of armor for them, every time upgrading in quality and materials. And every time he would remember their exact measurements to ensure that the armor would fit on them perfectly, and that it would be the best pieces of metalwork he would ever produce. Not that he would ever admit that to them, though.

The shop's door swings open, and March's heartbeat ramps up as he recognizes who it was.

"Hey! Sorry for dragging in all this water." The farmer, drenched from head to toe, beams at him as the door shuts behind them.

His breath hitches. Their clothes, sopping wet, cling perfectly to their frame.

He coughs. "What do you want? You just got an armor upgrade. Do you actually have a life? Or is all you do is mine?"

They rolled their eyes, a smirk still gracing their lips (not that he was looking at their lips), "Oh March. You never change. Even after all that copper and tesserae."

They saunter over to the counter, and March inhales sharply through his nose, hoping the extra oxygen would help his head function around them.

"I came to give you a present! Happy birthday, March." They smile softly, handing him a small box that was wrapped with care. He took it cautiously, and nearly jumped when their fingers grazed against his own. He tried to push the electric feeling down. 

Attached to the bow that held the lid down was a slip of paper with his name written by the farmer on it. Eyeing them suspiciously, they only smiled and nodded their head encouragingly. Pulling the bow and the lid apart, he was pleasantly surprised with what he saw. Amazed, even.

It must have shown through his expression, because the farmer began to explain themself.

"I was on one of the lower levels of the mines, and there was this untouched chest stuck in the dirt. I dug it up, and lo’ and behold..."

Sitting on a velvet pillow laid a shiny golden band, which was formed into an unfinished circle. Instead of joining in the middle, the two ends were molded into a pair of dragon heads, with what looked like tiny sapphire eyes.

March's throat dried. He struggled to understand why someone so sweet would give him something like this despite the poor way he treats them. His face got hot, and he silently struggled to fight tears pricking in his eyes.

"March?"

He panicked. "This better not be cursed."

The farmer laughed. "I promise,"

They stood there for a second more. It almost seemed as if they wanted to say something else, but instead they just gave a small wave goodbye and turned towards the door.

Just as they reached the doorknob, March yelled their name.

"Th-thank you. For the gift." He mumbled.

They smiled. "You're welcome, March."

When they left, he felt his heart drop as he sighed. They'll never realize what they do to him.

--

March turned to Ryis, begging via eye contact for his friend to save him from this overbearing granny matchmaker.

Ryis only shrugged. "Sorry, man, but it's true. I've seen the way that you act around them."

"What do I act like?!"

Ryis recalled the time that the farmer hugged him after he gave them the bracelet he made them. The carpenter said he didn’t know that he could even get that red, especially after the farmer told him that ‘it was the most thoughtful gift they’ve ever received,’ and that March was their ‘closest friend.’

Before he could retort, his brother stepped up. He explained that March almost poured molten iron on the floor instead of the ax-head mold while he was checking them out. "C’mon dude. Even I can pick that up." Orlic chuckled.

"March, I've lived a long life, and with the way you stutter around them...everyone knows that you're interested in them." Landen butted in.

Elsie sighed, “And what’s worse, the only person who hasn’t noticed is the farmer,” she turned to March, “I don’t know how much more obvious you could be, dearie.”

This farmer was going to be the end of him.

March's face feels so hot it's almost like he stuck his head directly into a crucible filled with molten copper. He covered his face with his hands.

"All of you suck." March mumbled.

Did I get too carried away with this? Yes. As always, hope you enjoyed 💗

[mustasekittens]

wlw buddie for my friends and any sapphics out there

[jojo-the-bird]

[bauresurrected]

characters you will bring to the cm fandom (i am hypnotizing you) (maybe some people write these that i follow and if that's you come at me)

rossi

morgan

gideon

luke

TARA. by god. please.

alex

kate

literally any of the bau i don't care if people are already writing them

stephen walker

barnes

strauss

JACK, HENRY, MICHAEL?

will

jordan

your ocs.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday: Baby Croc Chaos

(For context, the first time the boys were allowed outside, someone took a shot at Croc, because you don't see that every day. It ended up injuring his leg. Jak attacked the man, and Damas was called to break up the fight. Despite being presumed too young for Arena trials and not having cleared the necessary obstacle training course, Damas gives permission for Jak to demand a duel on Croc's behalf. Normally this would be done by the guardian or parent of the injured child, but it's clear that the boys have no parents. Obviously, Jak won.)

Most expected the angry shapeshifter from the Arena to start making more frequent appearances after the battle trial. He had his first amulet -- earlier than most orphans in the youth barracks got them -- and his gate pass now, making him eligible for the work roster. He could start finding artifacts of his own now, and earn enough to support the creatures he called his siblings. With the ferocity he'd shown in the ring, it had been assumed that he'd jump at the chance to carve out a place for himself in Spargus.

And yet the king had sent word that they were to be returned to C-Ward in the tower the moment the Arena settled. And no one had seen them since.

Perhaps it was a confinement of sorts. The king had been fairly displeased to find the foundling boy and Tarn in the holding cells after the market brawl. He'd been even angrier when he learned the context of it.

Those who had been in the market that day, and had witnessed the scaly spirit-child thing, suggested that Lord Damas was simply being cautious. As strange as "Croc" was -- even disturbing to some -- it was a child, unmistakably. There'd been no call for Tarn to fire at it -- and firing willy-nilly in the market was a good way to get a shell to the head anyway.

The matter came up during the city's weekly review of the wall defenses. Hutch, head of the city architects' guild, handed over the blueprints for his wall turret proposal and glanced to the far edge of the throne room. Strangely, the shapeshifter was there, sitting amongst the date palms with the talking animal and the spirit infant.

What a time to be alive that such a sentence could even be thought-!

Had Damas summoned the boy? For what purpose?

Hutch saw the orange creature point to one of the trees, and the boy moved as fast as lightning. He slapped a palm to the trunk as if trying to crush something, then took a small spray bottle from the mustelid.

Ah, the king had put them to work removing pests from the trees. Fifteen of the palms filled the room in large planters, and the architect pitied the foundlings for the unenviable task of applying pesticides to them all. Maybe they were being punished for something.

The king scanned the blueprints carefully before passing them to the director of finance.

"This design is compact enough that adding it to the wall wouldn't put a burden on the city's budget. However, I am concerned about the amount of eco an automated turret would consume. What do you plan to run it on?"

"S- solar...power...actually," Hutch answered sheepishly. "I've just realized my proposal for solar panels is still sitting on my desk."

Lottie, the finance director, looked at him dryly. "Probably would've helped to start with that one."

The architect flushed slightly. "It's been a busy week," he protested, "The monks have been at me for old archived blueprints of Tributary!"

Then he wearily asked, "Should I go home and get the other proposal, sire?"

Damas didn't answer right away, which was unlike him.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on the trio of inhu'men orphans working in the artificial grove. (What were they? Hutch didn't think they were actually spirits, but darned if he'd ever seen a Lurker with so little hair!)

After a moment, the king seemed to shake himself.

"No, that won't be necessary," he said quickly. "Just...explain it to Lottie when we adjourn for noon rest."

Unexpectedly, that week's patrol leader for the gate wall spoke up.

"They get noon rest too, right, sir?"

Evidently the presence of the shapeshifter and siblings had concerned him as well. Odolan shifted uncomfortably, whether because of the boys or because of -- apparently -- calling out the king himself.

"Shouldn't they be in the barracks during meetings?" Odolan pressed.

"No," answered the king. He sounded almost disinterested, as if the matter barely merited comment. "They have a room here. They just don't stay in it."

Now his other advisors began to shift and frown between each other. The only people who should've been living in the tower were the ruler of Spargus and his personal guards, a detachment of medics and patients in the warriors' Convalescence Ward, and the staff of the water treatment and kitchen facilities. Underage foundlings -- almost always rescues or defectors from Marauders, not exiles -- went to the youth barracks. They had to make connections with their age mates, to form Squads! It was a well-established part of Spargan culture by now. Why in the world would their king deny the new foundlings that? Was it because of their appearance?

Odolan looked deeply uncomfortable as he asked, "Is- is this because of how the boy killed Tarn? He was well within his rights to do so."

"Mhm. That's partially why." Damas didn't look up. He scratched notes quickly into a pad of recycled paper. "Here, Hutch. Look this over and tell me if it's sound."

He handed him a rough diagram of the front wall with alternate turret locations, then twirled the pencil between his fingers.

"Er...mostly, sire. But that junction there is above several wall residences."

"Ah, right. Scratch that one then." Damas took the pad back and drew a line through the box meant to represent a turret.

"Actually- here. Draw me those solar panels you're on about. Show me where you'd put them before you discuss it with Lottie."

When he finally glanced up, he saw that half the guild heads and advisors were still casting confused or curious glances over at the boys in the grove. The children were eavesdropping, of course. The chores had been implemented in an attempt to mitigate that somewhat, but with the amount of scarring and eco healing marks in their bones, Damas suspected they'd learned to listen carefully no matter how busy they looked. He couldn't explain to his council why he indulged Jak’s refusal to go back outside until Croc's nightmares stopped. Or admit that his own curiosity was keeping him from sending them to a barracks RA to sort out. It may have been -- he had trouble admitting it, even to himself, without pain -- the age of the youngest. He was no older than Mar had been when he was taken. He was small, and helpless, and the youth barracks were for teenagers, not toddlers. Separating Jak from his younger sibling just seemed cruel. And too much like how he'd lost Mar.

With a long-suffering look, Damas asked dryly, "Does anyone else have concerns about the gremlin gang they'd like to voice so that we can focus on the task at hand?"

Taking it as an invitation rather than sarcasm, -- she'd never been good at detecting sarcasm, in her defense -- Lottie remarked, "Who's going to look after the wee creatures when the lad enters his first Squad?"

Damas waved that off immediately. "They're not ready for Squads. Not in the least."

"Not ready for Squads?" Hutch muttered to Odolan, not quiet enough to go unheard, "How can a foundling not be ready for basic training?"

At that moment, the nature spirit thing came scampering out of the palms with an excited trill. Scuttling along before him was a very panicked scorpion -- no doubt it had been sleeping in the soil brought up for the planters. The scaly toddler crouched, tail lashing, then pounced. He held it it up by the tail, proudly showing the small arachnid to the adults, then his brothers.

"Good catch, Croc!" Jak ducked out of the palms. "Let me see it."

He ignored the presence of the council and crouched to examine the absolutely furious scorpion.

"Cool. Never seen one this small before. Check out the carapace-"

"Urr?"

"Hard shell. Body."

"Urr!"

"It ain't a juvenile. That means this sucker's got some pretty major poison in that stinger."

Damas opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again and shook his head. Perhaps eventually the council would learn what he had: it was completely and utterly useless to try to interrupt Jak when he was excited about something.

Carefully, Croc set the scorpion down and pinned it in place with his foot claws. With chubby fingers and the SparSign common to infants and toddlers, he asked, "I eat dat spicy bug?"

"Yeah sure, just not the tail."

Instant panic amongst the adults.

Damas launched out of the throne.

"Oh for the love of- Croc! No! Do not eat raw scorp-"

Too late.

The wide, wide mouth opened, and with a noticeable crunch, the scorpion met its end. While the adults stared in wide-eyed expressions ranging from disbelief to bravely stifling explosive laughter, Jak relieved Croc of the stinger.

"We'll put this with the other ones."

Jak finally looked up and stared impassively at Damas, still ignoring the council.

"What?"

"He's an infant, Jak! You don't know he can eat scorpions safely," Damas sighed.

The boy shrugged. "He's eaten way worse and been fine."

The orange one scurried out and up onto Jak’s head.

"Bald-faced lie. Eatin' KG gave him the most unholy flatulence and you know it."

Jak pretended not to hear this.

"Besides," he said, sounding cocky, "Dax and me ate scorpions plenty of times when we were little. It didn't hurt us."

This got an...interesting reaction from the Wastelanders. In what environment were young children allowed to catch and eat scorpions regularly? They were supervised, of course, they would have had to be-

"You realize," Daxter said with a hint of bitterness in his voice, "That we wouldn't have had to hunt scorpions if your absentee uncle had actually fed us instead of spending the grocery money on treasure maps every month."

Well then.

As one, the advisors turned to look at Damas. He simply gestured to the boys as if saying "you see?"

Dry as dust, the king asked, "Any other objections to continued adult supervision?"

Odolan shook his head and wondered how the strange orphans had even lived this long.

"I withdraw the question."

[chiistarri]

this is so unfair why are there only 31 litpollo fics on ao3

[beanghostprincess]

I think this Sanuso Fantasy AU might be my favorite AU,,, I am going a bit,,, Insane,,, So I am going to give you a little more of it ahead of time

[albertayebisackey]

“She sells seashells by the seashore.” - Anonymous

[hibischush]

Hello! Have you got any kissing headcanons for Eiland, March, and any romanceable you'd like? Thank you! :3

Ohhhh yes yes I do! I did the "spin the wheel" for the rest of the romanceables because I literally couldn't choose they're all so lovable already. Adeline was the chosen one so I guess we have a sibling special today lmao 🌺

Also, some of these are a bit suggestive, so⚠️minors proceed with caution!⚠️

Eiland

at first I feel like Eiland would be very gentlemanly when kissing you

Like after one of your first few dates he definitely leaned down and kissed your hand

bro is literally courting you like its the regency era

I think that it would take him awhile to gather up to kiss you

But I wholly support the idea that you initiate your first kiss

Like this is an outta-nowhere-unplanned-spontaneous kiss

Because Eiland would be the type to plan out extravagant dates to be memorable

I think you would kiss him for the first time when he's busy explaining (in great depth) the history behind an artifact at the dig sites

His eyes were just so bright and his voice was so animated and passionate and his lips were just

irresistible

You cut him off with a quick chaste kiss and oh man

His expression was priceless

He was so shocked and his face immediately heated up

Eiland was speechless for longer than you expected and you asked if he was okay

"I...yes! Of course! I just..." he pauses, thumbing the bottom of your lip while leaning closer and whispering, "I want to properly kiss you this time, with my full attention."

Once kissing became as natural as breathing air, Eiland kisses you more confidently

He almost always uses one hand to cradle your face and another to pull you closer by the waist

His favorite place to kiss you is your lips, but he is not picky in the slightest

When things heat up, I think he would be a... lip biter

BLASPHEMY I KNOW. A NOBLE LORD SUCH AS EILAND?!

He'd also kiss and nibble on your neck as long as you're fine with it

March

March 100% kisses you before you both are official

Bc he's a silly impulsive little tsudere

and to be clear its obvious that March likes you at this point, and you reciprocate

You want him to bring it up though because he will deny that he likes you lmao

Like you both were hanging out near the fountain in town and the tension is so thick that you could slice through it with a sword

heavy eye contact, fleeting touches, sly comments, etc.

you are breaking this man down

"You are so cute, March," you giggle, shoving him aside playfully

He blushes and pushes you back, almost defensively

"S-shut up. You just don't take me seriously, idiot."

Alright. This guy--

You're tired of his bs

"God, March," you groan, "you want to kiss me so damn bad it makes you look stupid!"

He fumes, before grabbing you by your shoulders and hesitating for a second

before you can say anything, his lips crash against your own

it was short but passionate

"Not so stupid now, huh?"

Anywhoozies

March is a very passionate guy, especially for you

While I believe he is a rough kisser when feeling extra...loving (purely out of desperation btw)

I think his favorite place to kiss you is on your nose 🥺

Especially as goodnight kisses

Adeline

Prefacing this with Adeline is lovely kisser

She always kisses you with purpose and emotion

You're her favorite person, and you help her relax when she can physically love on you

Your first kiss with Adeline was after a nice candlelit dinner after you two had been dating for awhile

Also just another hc I'm going to throw in here:

I think Adeline really enjoys ball room dancing

She used to do it more when she was younger and didn't have to watch over Mistria

So afterwards she asks if you would like to dance (ofc you accept)

While dancing and enjoying such a tender moment with Adeline, you noticed that she faltered and slowed to a stop

You quietly ask her if she was alright, and she looks at you with such warmth it made your heart race

"May I kiss you?"

When you nod your head yes, she smiles, wrapping her arms around your neck, as her eyelids flutter close and she gives you a soft lingering kiss

Afterwards you both kiss often, often short but sweet

Like kisses on the cheek in passing since the both of you are often busy

Adeline loves to kiss you on your cheek!

And she loves to receive kisses on her forehead

When you both have the alone time to be intimate, Adeline kisses you like you're her first breath of air after resurfacing from water lemme tell ya

The pair of you don't get much alone time together so she makes the most of it!

In conclusion, I am in love with them all. I honestly don't know which romanceable I'll go for in my first playthrough, I guess we'll all have to wait until August 5th 🥲

Side note: what is the God in this game. Using "God" just sounds weird as an interjection

[rubydracogirl]

Siren's Treasure

Mermay/Gravity Falls story

Siren!OcXFord Pines and Stan Pines

Rated M just in case. This chapter isn't spicy but later parts probably will be

Part one is here if you missed it

Chapter 2

Shells

Stan was starting to get pissed off as he hauled back another empty line with his bait completely gone.

“Not again!” He hissed as he reset his hook with fresh bait. As he tossed the new line into the water, he settled in his chair, watching closely. He’d be damned if he lost another fish to whatever was taking it.

He’d always enjoyed ocean fishing, though it was certainly a different beast from fishing in the lake in Gravity Falls. 

Often, he had better luck catching fish off the boat then he ever did at that stupid lake-

His rod jerked slightly and he sat up, peering into the water as he pulled back, trying to hook whatever had grabbed onto the bait.

“C’mon, come to papa-” He chuckled as his rod jerked, a sign that he'd caught whatever was there. He let the line go, his excitement growing.

The line went slack, and he began to reel again, only for the fish to fight him, more spirited than ever.

This went on for longer than he would have liked. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he found himself bracing against the side of the boat.

“Ford!” He shouted as he nearly went over the rail. He braced himself and pulled back hard-

All at once, the line went completely slack and he went bowling over, nearly head over heels. 

Luckily for him, Ford broke his fall. Unluckily for them both, the deck broke their collective fall.

“Holy Moses,” Stan groaned, cursing colorfully under his breath as Ford helped him back to his feet. 

“What the-” Stan took a confused look at the end of his line. Attached to the hook was a giant, conical shell. It was a deep, golden brown color with creamy white dots scattered over its glossy surface.. 

“How the devil did you manage that?” Ford asked, impressed as he picked up the giant shell, untangling it from the hook.

“I dunno, I-”

Stan’s bewildered look became a scowl as they both heard a loud splash. Poking her head up from the water was the Siren. And in her mouth was a sizable fish-

“YOU DIRTY THIEF!” Stan shouted, shaking his fist at her as he lurched to the railing, “THAT’S MINE! GIVE IT BACK, YOU FISH FLOOZY!”

She only grinned, making a show of taking a huge bite out of the fish. Stan sputtered in rage, shouting at her as she chewed lazily, staring at him with an unimpressed expression before ducking down under the water.

“That overgrown tuna took my-”

“Stanley, do you know what kind of shell this is?” Ford interrupted.

“Should I?” Stan fumed as he glared at the water.

“It’s a Junonia shell, probably the biggest one I’ve ever seen…” 

“So?” 

Stan was still scowling at the water. The Siren poked her head back up, obviously chewing. He inhaled to yell at her some more, when Ford’s next words struck him.

“These are extremely rare. The biggest ones I’ve seen are less than five inches long and sell for a lot of money. This one’s damn near two feet long and in pristine condition-”

“How much?” Stan whipped around, taking another look at the shell.

“Smaller ones sell for something like fifty to eighty dollars last I was aware. I’m not an expert but I’d guess- hey!”

Stan snatched the shell, looking over it with renewed interest. 

“Just our luck there’s probably something in it-”

But the shell was completely empty.

“More than likely, she ate the creature inside.” Ford mused as he looked back at the water. “I thought perhaps she was following us to scavenge, but maybe not?”

The siren was back, peering at them with a grin. Stan coughed as he held up the shell for her to see.

“You keep bringing me shells like this, you can have any damn fish I hook that you want!” He shouted with a big grin.

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t look confused. Ford’s brow furrowed as he studied her. That had to be a sign she understood English, at least…

So why wasn’t she talking to them?

8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8

In the weeks that followed, Stan collected almost twenty different kinds of shells from the siren. Each time he reeled in his line, there’d be a new seashell waiting, each as rare and beautiful as the first.

Ford was deeply puzzled by the whole thing. The whole time she’d been following them, he had not once heard her sing or speak. The siren he had dated in Gravity Falls had been the exact opposite. She sang often and was a vociferous companion. Ford hadn’t minded; her being chatty was especially helpful for his research.

“Shelly’s late today,” Stan commented, watching his fishing line with pretended disinterest.

“Shelly?”

“Yeah. Y’know, the cute fish lady that’s been hanging around? Can’t keep calling her ‘the siren’. Sounds dumb.”

“Very creative,” Ford replied dryly.

“Alright, smartass, what would you call her?”

Ford took a moment to think, his eyes wandering over the waters before he shook his head.

“She most likely has a name already.”

“She’s not opening up about it if she does. Besides, Shelly’s not a bad nickname.”

Ford huffed in annoyance but reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, it’s not a bad name.”

“Heh, damn straight.” Stan puffed his chest. “How much d’ya think I’ll get for these shells?”

“Probably depends on where you take them.” 

There was silence for a moment before Stan glanced at his twin. Ford was staring off into space, his brow furrowed.

“What’s eatin’ ya?”

Ford didn’t reply for a moment. The sounds of the water around them permeated the atmosphere as his thoughts percolated.

Stan glanced away and he brightened as he saw his fishing rod bending slightly.

He eagerly began to reel it in…but instead of a shell, there was actually a fish on the line.

Stan frowned for a moment before shrugging.

“I caught our dinner.”

They didn’t see her at all that day.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

https://www.tumblr.com/owwllly/742785430735437824/softgirlgonehaywire-staryukis-dollsuguru?source=share

Ah, but why do I feel as though as though merman!Suguru would work just so well in your style?

AAA ANON YOU’RE SO SWEET 😭😭😭 ….. i’d love to write a merman!sugu fic one day i just have no clue what the plot would be……. i do think sugu is super the little mermaid coded though. an angsty fic where he turns into seafoam at the end might be fun….. but i also want him to be happy :’3 maybe something fluffy with a reader who’s afraid of water….? and sugu teaches them how to swim….. I PROMISE I CAN SWIM IDK WHY THAT CONCEPT WAS THE FIRST TO POP INTO MY HEAD but i like it….. i think it’s cute…..

anon this definitely put an idea into my brain pshdps TYSM !! another sugu wip to add to my never-ending list :’3……

[conchfritters]

i need to get less ashamed of talking about my interests on my 0 follower tumblr blog because if i don't point out that despite having one of the most interesting concepts ever presented in a genshin event, shadows amidst snowstorms was not actually well written, and was in fact pretty Poorly written, then who else will. Who else will.

[literature-and-lace]

Seashells

On a sandy stretch by the soothing sea,

I embarked on a wondrous quest with glee.

Searching, seeking, with eager eyes,

For treasures amidst the seagull cries.

Beneath the cerulean sky's embrace,

I longed to discover shells' delicate grace.

Their myriad colors and shapes unknown,

Tales of their journey, carefully sown.

Weaving through the waves, with nimble feet,

I combed the shore, my senses complete.

Each shell I found, a pearl of the shore,

Whispering secrets that we tend to ignore.

The scallops, with patterns like flaming sunsets,

Astonished me, like art one never forgets.

The periwinkles, shining in pearlescent glow,

Carried whispers of love from long ago.

Amongst the jingle shells, at the ocean's edge,

I found wisdom waiting to be dredged.

Expressing stories of tides and renewal,

They reminded me of life's constant duel.

And as the waves gently kissed my bare feet,

I marveled at nature's rhythm, so sweet.

For every shell carried a story of its own,

A sliver of history, forever unknown.

In this search for shells, I found much more,

Appreciation, wonder, a deeply felt rapport.

A connection with nature, a bond so pure,

Amidst the seashells, memories endure.

So, if ever you wander along the shore,

Remember to never ignore the shells' lore.

For amidst their beauty lies stories untold,

Whispered by the ocean, eternal and bold.

[chiistarri]

im really.good at writjnf as you can see

[diabolicjoy]

writing letters again :)

[lcvedriven]

alright, jackie tyler is being tentatively added.