#kaleidoscope quilt

[bevanne46]

FREE Permission to Play: Kaleidoscope Quit Pattern This visually fascinating quilt was designed by Lunn Studios to showcase the perfectly gradated beauty of Artisan Batiks: Elementals. https://www.robertkaufman.com/quilting/quilts_patterns/permission_to_play_kaleidoscope/#color:1

[klausgue]

This is my first quilt. It is 80x86

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word Alternatives: Colours

BLACK atramentous, charcoal, coal, crow, darksomeness, denigration, duskiness, ebony, funereal, jet, inkiness, melanism, melanotic, midnight, niello, obsidian, pitch, raven, sable, singe, sloe, smirch, smoke, sombrous, soot, swarthiness, swartness, tar

BLUE aquamarine, azure, berylline, cerulean, cerulescent, cyan, cyanosis, cyanotic, electric blue, ice-blue, indigo, lividity, midnight, navy, Oxford blue, pavonian, pavonine, peacock blue, robin's egg blue, royal blue, sapphire, turquoise, ultramarine

BROWN adust, auburn, beige, biscuit, braise, bay, bronze, brune, brunette, buff, burnt umber, burnt sienna, caramel, castaneous, chestnut, chocolate, cinnamon, cocoa, coffee, drab, dun, embrown, fawn, grege, hazel, henna, infuscation, khaki, mushroom, ochre, paper bag, pumpernickel, raw sienna, raw umber, roan, rubiginous, rufous, russet, rust, scorch, seal, sepia, sorrel, suntan, sunburn, tan, taupe, toast, umber, walnut

GRAY ashiness, canescence, cinereous, cineritious, dullness, ecru, fuscous, glaucescence, greige, grisaille, gunmetal, hoar, iron, lead, mousiness, oyster, pewter, slatiness, smokiness, steel, taupe

GREEN aerugo, aestival, avocado, beryl, chartreuse, chloremia, chlorophyll, chlorosis, chlorotic, emerald, foliaged, glaucescence, grass, greensickness, ivy, jade, loden green, holly, olivaceous, olive, patina, patinate, pea-green, smaragdine, springlike, verdancy, verdantness, verdigris, verdure, vernal, virescence, viridescence, viridity

ORANGE apricot, cantaloupe, carotene, carroty, ochreous, ochroid, pumpkin, saffron, tangerine, terracotta, Titian

PINK carnation, coral, coralline, flesh-pink, incarnadine, peach, primrose, roseate, rosy, salmon

PURPLE amethystine, aubergine, bruise, empurple, fuchsia, lavender, lilac, lividity, magenta, mauve, mulberry, orchid, pansy, plum, puce, purpure, purpureous, raisin, violaceous, violet

RED beet, blowzy, cardinal, carmine, carnation, carnelian, cerise, cherry, copper, crimson, damask, encrimson, erubescence, erythema, erythematous, erythrism, erythroderma, ferruginous, fire, floridity, floridness, flushing, gules, hectic, henna, incarnadine, infrared, laky, lateritious, lobster, lurid, magenta, mantling, maroon, miniate, port, puce, raddle, rose, rosiness, rouge, rubefaction, rubicundity, rubor, rubricity, ruby, ruddiness, rufescence, rufosity, russet, rust, sanguine, scarlet, stammel, vermeil, vermilion, vinaceous

YELLOW aureateness, auric, aurify, banana, begild, bilious, biliousness, cadmium, canary, chartreuse, citreous, citrine, citron, engild, fallowness, flavescent, flaxen, fulvous, gildedness, gilt, goldenness, honey, icteric, icterus, jaundice, lemon, lutescent, luteous, luteolous, mustard, ochroid, old gold, primrose yellow, saffron, sallowness, sandy, straw, sulfur, topaz, xanthism, xanthochroism, xanthoderma

WHITE achromatic, alabaster, albescent, albinic, besnow, blanch, bleach, bone, calcimine, chalk, cream, cretaceous, eggshell, etiolate, ghastly, ivory, lactescent, lily, lime, milk, pearl, sheet, swan, sheep, fleece, flour, foam, marmoreal, niveous, paper, pearl, phantom, silver, snow, driven snow, tallow, teeth, wax, wool

VARIEGATION (diversity of colors) spectrum, rainbow, iris, chameleon, leopard, jaguar, cheetah, ocelot, zebra, barber pole, candy cane, Dalmatian, firedog, peacock, butterfly, mother-of-pearl, nacre, tortoise shell, opal, kaleidoscope, stained glass, serpentine, calico cat, marble, mackerel sky, confetti, crazy quilt, patchwork quilt, shot silk, moire, watered silk, marbled paper, Joseph's coat, harlequin, tapestry; bar code, checkerboard

variegation, multicolor; parti-color; medley or mixture of colors, spectrum, rainbow of colors, riot of color; polychrome, polychromatism; dichromatism, trichromatism; dichroism, trichroism

iridescence, iridization, irisation, opalescence, nacreousness, pearliness, chatoyancy, play of colors or light; light show; moire pattern, tabby; burelé or burelage

spottiness, maculation, freckliness, speckliness, mottledness, mottlement, dappleness, dappledness, stippledness, spottedness, dottedness; fleck, speck, speckle; freckle; spot, dot, polka dot, macula, macule, blotch, splotch, patch, splash; mottle, dapple; brindle; stipple, stippling, pointillism, pointillage

check, checker, checks, checking, checkerboard, chessboard; plaid, tartan; checker-work, variegated pattern, harlequin, colors in patches, crazy-work, patchwork; parquet, parquetry, marquetry, mosaic, tesserae, tessellation; crazy-paving; hound's tooth; inlay, damascene

stripe, striping, candy-stripe, pinstripe; barber pole; streak, streaking; striation, striature, stria; striola, striga; crack, craze, crackle, reticulation; bar, band, belt, list

mottled, motley; pied, piebald, skewbald, pinto; dappled, dapple; calico; marbled; clouded; salt-and-pepper

Source: The Concise Roget's International Thesaurus, Revised & Updated (6th Edition) More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[tj-crochets]

Throwback to this floral quilt! I think I want to make another quilt with this double disappearing nine patch idea, I think it worked really well and I'm very curious how it would look with fabric that's less busy

A pink and purple watercolor floral quilt! So many flowers, and a surprisingly quick quilt to make (it only took four and a half hours total!)

[postcards-and-postcrossing]

Patterns

Bulgaria – Top left 1987 General Issue Bottom left New Year ’88 – Right 1982 19th Century Fresco Hungary 1995 Embroidered motifs. Vas County France – 1962 Amiens Coat of Arms (city in North of France) Netherlands 2020 Kaleidoscope Russia 2020 Tatar Embroidery 20th Century Russia 2020 Karelian Embroidery 20th Century Indonesia – 2012 Batik Lurik Motif “Shady Dagger” China – 2013 Happy New…

[moonlinos]

It would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Single dad!Chan, friends to strangers to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), mentions of parental guilt, themes of loneliness, Chan is stuck in the past, lying, mentions of feeling lost in life, story spans over a number of years, nipple play, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

♡ Word count: 8.2k

♡ Synopsis: Being a single dad to Hyerin is all Chan has known for the past four years. He and his ex-girlfriend reached an agreement that saw her going off to live a life she had always dreamed of while he was left with a life of loneliness, which he endured with a smile on his face for his daughter. A small gleam of hope seems to appear in his life in the shape of you. But hiding himself under a haze of lies seems to be his only option if he ever wants to keep you.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting, this was so much fun to write 🩷 I will admit this is a lot more focused on Chan as a character than I originally wanted it to be, and I kinda went a bit crazy with the plot, but I hope you still like it! The song Chan sings to Hyerin is Little Star by Standing Egg 💗

Every day in Chan’s life is a monotonous, never-ending cycle. Like watching reruns of bad TV shows on gloomy Sunday nights, every second of his past and upcoming days is etched into his mind like a quilt of mundane tasks and repetitive moments.

But that wasn’t always the case.

Once, excitement filled his every waking moment. His weekends were a whirlwind of new places teeming with bustling crowds and unfamiliar faces who became fast friends. During his university years, he and his friends lived their lives with ardor, savoring every moment as if it could be their last. His days were filled with an array of unplanned parties and impromptu trips which brought a kaleidoscope of color to his life.

Until he met Dana.

He was about to graduate, and she swept into his life like a hurricane — flipping everything upside down before disappearing just as quickly, with only destruction and ashes remaining in her wake.

He was infatuated; she was bored. That was clear from the start, but Chan was too blinded by affection to be concerned with such a minute detail. So long as he got to have her by his side, he was happy. Their relationship lasted a year, yet it changed his life forever.

He was twenty-one when Dana announced her pregnancy. On his twenty-second birthday, she told him she didn’t want to be a mother.

By that point in his life, Chan had already forsaken everything he had for her. He turned his back on his old friends, the vibrant life he once led, and everything that once made him who he was. Without Dana, he would be left with nothing but the ugly reflection of his self-destructive choices made in the name of a loveless love.

And so, they came to an agreement. Dana would leave — that had been her plan from the start, anyway — but she would leave Chan with a small piece of their story.

Hyerin was born on November 20th, 2019.

Dana left on a plane to New York City on December 1st.

Now, the only speck of color in his life is Hyerin. In the four years Chan has been lucky enough to be her dad, he has found she is much more than simply a reminder of Dana or what could have been between them. Hyerin is his entire world. She is the love he’s unknowingly been searching for his whole life, and he would sacrifice every last bit of himself to make sure she only ever knows happiness.

They live a quiet life, with Chan working a less-than-fulfilling corporate job and spending all his free time with her. He sometimes allows himself to wonder what happened to his old friends — did they all eventually settle for the mundanity of adult life, or are they still chasing an endless thrill? But he never dwells on it too much. The sweet memories of his early twenties are now nothing more than a comforting escape when the weight of loneliness becomes too overwhelming.

Today is one of those days. A late Friday night after his shift, Chan sprawled on his couch with Jisung, a co-worker who became his first friend after many years, a silly smile on his face as he reminisced about a trip to Jeju in his sophomore year of college. This is how he lives most of his life; when he’s not in the present with Hyerin, he’s stuck in the past.

How could he not be stuck in the past? So many people he loved and memories he cherished were there.

“I don’t get how you just left all of that behind for someone,” Jisung scoffs, loosening his tie. “Why couldn’t she just join your group of friends?”

“It’s complicated,” Chan sighs, eyes wandering toward Hyerin’s bedroom door for the umpteenth time to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly. When he turns to look back at Jisung, his expression prompts him to elaborate. “What? You want the whole story?”

Jisung shrugs. “It’s not like we have any other plans for tonight.”

“Well, there was this girl in my friend group. We hooked up a lot, but our relationship went beyond that,” Chan explains, fingers tapping his thighs as the memories flood his mind. It was a sore topic, one he certainly didn’t enjoy remembering. “We never dated, but Dana was jealous, and I couldn’t blame her. Me and this girl were… very close. I couldn’t be in a relationship while also being that close to her, but I also couldn’t imagine us being only friends. So it was easier to walk away.”

Chan conveniently leaves out the fact that he walked away because an artificial love strangely provided solace for his heart, unlike the searing torment of unrequited love, which engulfed him like molten lava.

“And that was the last time you ever had that type of relationship with anyone?”

“With Dana? Yeah—”

“Hyung, you know what I mean. You told me yourself Dana didn’t love you,” Jisung points out. “I mean this other girl.”

Chan shrugs dismissively. “I guess, yeah. Doesn’t matter, though.”

And Jisung scoffs loudly at his words, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Memories of that love flood Chan’s mind, and he's ready to let them sweep him away when Jisung abruptly turns so he sits facing him, resolve swimming in his eyes.

“Give me your phone,” his loud voice reverberates through the small apartment, prompting Chan to shush him with a stern look. “Give me your phone,” Jisung repeats himself with a harsh whisper.

Chan rolls his eyes but ultimately smiles at his friend. He retrieves his phone from the end table, handing it to a much too enthusiastic Jisung. “The password is Hyerin’s birthday,” he tells him, albeit a bit apprehensive.

He watches amusedly as Jisung types away at his own phone before doing the same on his, handing him the device with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What did you do, you little menace?” Chan questions the younger boy, narrowing his eyes. Jisung simply shrugs.

“I got you a date tomorrow. Thank me later.”

Chan immediately sits up on the couch, eyes darting toward his phone screen. A chat with a single message from him to an unknown contact makes him question his entire friendship with Jisung.

Me: I’m your date for tomorrow 😉 Me: O’neul restaurant, 6 pm. See you there, cutie

“Jisung, what the fuck?”

“What?” His friend asks between giggles. “Sora has this friend she said desperately needs a date, and I have you in the same situation,” he explains, clearly proud of himself. “I just did you both a favor while also getting boyfriend points.”

Chan’s eyes shift toward his phone once more, inwardly cringing at the messages with a heavy sigh.

“And was making me sound this creepy necessary?”

Jisung waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, that was just a little treat for me.”

“And why the fuck is her name Mystery Girl?” Chan queries, the irritation making him unknowingly raise his voice.

“It’s a blind date,” his friend explains. “This girl’s apparently super picky, kept turning down every guy Sora suggested. So, she came up with this solution. Can’t turn you down if she doesn’t know what you look like.”

Chan groans, ultimately sinking back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. Jisung was trying to be a good friend, he knew that, but he wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of a date. Not only did he not want one, but he also had no time for such a futile thing. He had Hyerin, and she was the sole reason for his existence. He didn’t need anyone meddling in their little world. But he didn’t have the courage to tell Jisung that.

It would be a lie to say the past four years weren’t lonesome. Falling asleep alone in a cold, empty bed was a sorrow he had simply grown numb to. Yet, he still yearned to have someone to share the grapples of routine life with, someone whose presence alone would effortlessly diminish his worries, someone he could make love to before falling asleep and waking up intertwined.

But he couldn’t afford to have that.

At least this date was bound to fail; the woman’s demanding nature, coupled with Chan’s unwillingness to even be there in the first place sure to make their wasted time brief.

Just as he’s about to grumble about the messages again, Hyerin comes stumbling out of her room, her small feet shuffling against the floor as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Oh, honey, were we being too loud?” Chan asks sweetly, and his eyes discreetly shoot daggers at Jisung, who mouths an apology.

Hyerin firmly shakes her head, the crooked pigtails Chan clumsily had tied this morning coming undone as she does so. He smiles at her, propping his elbows on his knees and waiting for her to speak her little mind.

“I had a dream,” she mumbles. “With a dragon.”

Chan gasps, hands wrapping around her tiny frame and picking her up before walking toward her room. It took him some time, but he ultimately learned that it’s best to ease her back into bed while she’s distracted, lest she throws a tantrum.

“And was it a nice dragon?” He asks. Hyerin giggles, and Chan is positive that the sound has the power to light up even his most somber days.

“Of course it was a nice dragon, daddy,” she tells him. “You said I only have nice dreams ‘cause my mind is pretty, remember?”

Chan nods as he gently tucks her back into bed, triple-checking that she is comfortable and warm. “Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He slaps a hand on his forehead with a sigh. “Hyerinnie has the prettiest mind. It can only make up pretty things.”

Hyerin smiles at him, tugging her blanket close to her chin, her doe eyes already heavy with sleep and blinking languidly. Chan asks her the same question he does every night, although the answer remains unchanging every time: would she like him to sing to her? She drowsily tells him she wants to hear him sing her favorite song, Little Star.

Chan promptly gets under the covers beside her — Hyerin pouting and whining about how he’s stealing her blanket for himself, to which he can’t help the hearty laugh that escapes his lips. Since turning four, she’s developed quite a strong personality that Chan soon finds he adores, much like everything about her.

He turns on his side to watch her features as he sings; her nose and mouth so similar to his, and the way she furrows her brows while falling asleep mirrors his own habits. Chan might not be a happy man in his job or his personal life, but the boundless happiness his little gift provides him surpasses anything else he could wish for. Every now and then, he finds himself wanting more, but it’s not long before he realizes he already has everything he needs.

Chan goes over his rather extensive list of how to care for Hyerin with Jisung for the tenth time that evening, making sure the younger man knows what to do in any situation that could arise in the couple hours he’ll be gone. Hyerin is the one to usher him out of the apartment, assuring him she’ll be fine with her uncle Han, and Chan has to stop himself from wallowing over the fact that his once tiny baby is rapidly blossoming into a young kid.

He made no real effort to dress for his date; a simple button-up shirt and jeans served him just fine, seeing as he plans to return home as soon as possible. His date and he haven’t talked much at all since his initial texts yesterday, texting each other only to confirm the time and place of their basically forced date.

He arrives fifteen minutes late, all but running from the bus stop to the restaurant while cursing Jisung under his breath. This was definitely not worth the hassle, and Chan wanted nothing more than to be back at home with his daughter. He’d pick watching Tangled with her for the hundredth time over an unwanted date in a heartbeat.

Chan finally walks into the restaurant, informing the waiter that he’s there to meet Cherry. His face visibly grimaces as he mutters the words. Fuck this blind date bullshit.

He’s led to his table, dragging his feet behind the waiter. His attention is immediately drawn to the pencil holding his date’s messy ponytail together. He chuckles quietly, circling around the table and forcing out a smile to introduce himself.

But then he’s met with a sight he had long given up hope of ever seeing again: you.

You, who were next to him as he made stupid decisions during college. Like when he drunkenly thought it wise to bet his laptop in a game of beer pong.

You, who always made him your special hangover soup after a party. He especially loved it when you let him keep the leftovers, knowing that he and his roommate were hopeless in the kitchen.

You, who filled the space in his cold sheets with warmth and always made his bed feel like a sanctuary.

You, who let him make love to you despite you both swearing to be only friends.

You, who later had to watch him walk away from you like a coward, driven by sheer fear.

You, staring back at him with a stunned look on your face.

“Chan?” You ask, an unsure lilt to your words.

And Chan embarrassingly fumbles over his words, his tongue tying itself into knots in front of you. He notices you pursing your lips to stop from giggling and clears his throat a bit too loudly, a few patrons turning their heads to look at him. But he can’t bring himself to care, not when it seems the universe has turned the wheels of his fate in his favor for once.

“Uh, hi,” is all his brain can muster among the jumble of thoughts inside his head. He mentally berates himself for acting so damn awkward when you’re clearly not as affected by this encounter as he is.

“Damn, it’s been so long,” you marvel, eyes not leaving his face for a second. “I thought you moved to a different country or something. It’s so strange how we never ran into each other.”

Chan forces out a chuckle, hands now fiddling with the menu on the table. Of course you two never ran into each other; he only ever leaves the house for work or when he has to accompany Hyerin, and he doubts you frequent playgrounds or zoos.

“Yeah, I… don’t go out much anymore,” he simply says.

You hum, and he properly takes in your appearance. You haven’t changed one bit; from your hair to your choice of clothes, you’re still the same girl who ruled over his every thought during college.

You two order your food and fall into an infuriating cycle of small talk. Chan doesn’t want to talk about the weather or if you have seen the latest movie yet — he’s desperate to ask you how you’ve been, if you ever pursued your dreams, if you can still outdrink anyone in your friend group, and—

And if you’re still single because you find relationships a hassle.

But as the food arrives, you fall into an even more frustrating cycle: silence. Chan feels restless, squirming in his seat every few minutes while you calmly eat and watch the people around you. He remembers your habit of scanning crowded rooms and making up stories for strangers with your vivid imagination. He wants to ask if you still do that, but it seems he’s only grown into more of a coward since your last encounter.

You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for the waiter to leave with your plates to ask what Chan has been doing since graduating. It’s a casual question with no weight to your words, as lighthearted as you have always been. And the complete opposite of his every possible answer.

How can he tell you he’s given up music altogether, now surrounded by gray walls and lifeless faces in his corporate job? How can he tell you he’s alone most of the time, partly by choice and partly because he doesn’t know how to dig himself out of this comfortable hole he’s trapped himself in?

How can he possibly explain that he agreed to be a single father, sacrificing his own happiness for the selfish whims of a woman who never even loved him?

You’re still the same; the same carefree eyes and attitude, same easygoing approach to everything life throws your way — such as meeting him again after years.

All of him has changed.

Chan can’t tarnish your colorful life, can’t sit before you and spill out his problems or grumble about the overwhelming loneliness in his life when he knows damn well that was a consequence of his own choices.

He wants nothing more than to be the same Chan he was in college. Creating life stories for strangers in dive bars with you, not caring about whether he’ll have enough money to pay the water bill next month, not having to bear the burden of something as precious as a human life depending solely on him.

It’s selfish, but he wants nothing more than to go back.

So he does.

“I actually still write songs, though it’s only a freelance thing,” he lies. He hasn’t written a single note in years. “Other than that, I’ve just been taking it day by day. Same as I’ve always done, I guess.”

And your eyes immediately light up — you’ve always loved his songs, after all. Your conversation flows much like it used to in the past after that, with you making witty jokes and Chan laughing loudly at them. You tell him you started working as an art teacher for the elderly when living off of commissions became impossible, and that you adore the stories they share about their younger years. They remind you of your own stories together, you admit with a genuine smile.

Your conversation is endless, continuing even as Chan walks you to your car in the empty parking lot. The night has grown colder, and the crescent moon gleaming in the sky above him almost feels like a sign that things will change for the better.

As you two stand in front of your car, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Ever the free soul, you ask him outright if he would like to come back to your place. There are no further implications hidden in your request beyond a hookup. Nothing’s ever heavy with you, every little thing always feeling light as a feather.

He says he would love to, but quickly excuses himself under the guise of calling his roommate about the spare key. Chan hurriedly calls Jisung as soon as he turns a corner in the parking lot, ensuring you won’t be able to hear him. It’s juvenile, the way he’s actually taking pleasure in almost creating a different version of himself — a version much closer to who he was when you were his, at least in some sense of the word. He’s a father, he should be responsible and dependable, but the weight of that role had been thrust upon him far too abruptly. He can’t be faulted for wanting to go back in time.

“Okay, I have no time to explain,” he blurts out as soon as Jisung picks up the phone. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay the night?”

Jisung chuckles at the other end of the line. “Damn, was the date that good?”

Chan ignores his sly comment, because yes, the date was everything he never thought it could be.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he assures him. “I’ll even pay you if you want. How much—”

“Hey, no need for that,” Jisung cuts him off. “You know I love looking after Hyerin.”

And the pang of guilt inside his chest at the mention of his daughter’s name almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels ashamed, as if he’s neglecting his daughter for a hookup, going after a fantasy that has long crumbled and faded away.

“How is she? Is she okay?” He asks, guilt washing over him like a wave. He hadn’t thought of his daughter for a second that entire night. “Did she cry at all? Did she notice I was gone for longer than I promised?”

Jisung calls out his name with a chuckle, prompting him to stop his rambling. “Relax. We painted each other’s nails, she did my makeup, had her dinner, and is now sleeping soundly after listening to another one of uncle Han’s phenomenal stories about frogs,” He details, causing a hearty laugh to fall from Chan’s lips at the image of Jisung’s face painted with Hyerin’s cheap children’s makeup. His friend then adds, “Go get laid, man.”

And so Chan hangs up the phone, all but running toward your figure waiting by your car. You smile at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a tight embrace. It’s the first time he holds you in almost five years, and he feels his dull world away from Hyerin slowly fill up with vibrant hues.

It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach your apartment building, and Chan is thanking any higher power that might listen for that. The sheer anticipation of what is implied to happen once you two are alone together has him picking at his cuticles until it stings.

He’s nervous, to put it lightly. A couple of terrible drunken hookups in dingy motels after office gatherings were his only sexual encounters after Hyerin was born.

But once you’re standing in front of him in your living room, your eyes never leaving his even as you’re slipping off your heels, Chan knows you’re both equals in this playing field. 

He’s the one to pull you into a kiss, lips barely grazing against yours. But the feeling of finally kissing you again after so many years was like wildfire, consuming him wholly until the kiss turns feverish. His hand travels from your shoulders to your lower back, pulling you flush against his body. You hum against his lips, fingers clumsily undoing his buckle, and the prospect that you might be as eager as he is has him gripping the fabric of your dress.

Chan swears his vision goes black the moment your fingertips brush against his hardening erection, the feathery touch enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

A hand is pressed to his chest before he has the chance to think, and you’re pushing him backward until his back meets the wall. You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, leaning forward and nuzzling your face against his clothed cock.

“I missed you,” you whisper, hungry eyes looking up at him. “Don’t think I got to say that.”

Chan takes in the sight of you, memorizing and storing it in his mind alongside the countless images he already had of you on his knees for him. His fingers thread in your hair, your lips falling open with a sigh.

“I missed you too,” he professes. You have no idea how much.

With a smile, you quickly work his zipper open, pulling his jeans down his legs and pressing a wet kiss to his clothed erection. Chan feels your tongue lap at his member through his boxers, lips sucking around the head as your nails scrape the flesh of his thighs lightly.

It feels like you mouth at his length for hours, the light gray fabric of his boxers stained with your saliva and his precum, leaving Chan panting and tugging at your hair. You trail soft, wet kisses down his thigh while pushing his boxers out of your way, his cock already swollen and flushed. He’d be embarrassed for the way his body reacted so responsively to you if you weren’t also visibly as affected.

Your tongue circles his length languidly, lapping at a small bead of precum with a hum. Finally wrapping your lips around his tip, your tongue flicks teasingly beneath the head of his cock, Chan sucking in a deep breath and using his grip on your hair as leverage to pull you toward him. You almost obediently drop your jaw to slide his now fully hardened length into your mouth, your hand wrapping around the base as you begin to bob your head up and down his cock. Chan hisses your name when you relax your throat after a few passes, taking him fully into your pretty mouth, your nose brushing his pelvis.

“Fuck, you always looked so pretty like that,” Chan chokes out. “Pretty lips taking me so well.”

You groan at his words and the vibrations traveling along his shaft have Chan growling with a harsh tug of your hair, causing you to sputter as his cock hit the back of your throat. You seek purchase in his hips as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’re unrelenting nonetheless, circling your tongue around him before pulling away, hands now sliding up his thigh before gently gliding over his balls. As you slowly lick from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, Chan’s gaze shifts down as he catches a glimpse of your thighs rubbing together. He feels himself twitch, and immediately pulls you away from him.

“Don’t wanna come like this, I need to fuck you,” he rasps out.

You stand back up, legs wobbly, and fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he slides your dress down your shoulders. Your movements are messy and filled with urgency, your breaths quickening as you both want nothing more than to strip away any form of barrier between you. Piling up five years of yearning will do that.

As your impatience reaches its peak, you tear open the last remaining buttons of his shirt, your nails grazing his skin as you slide the fabric down his shoulders. A wave of goosebumps travels across Chan’s body, and his hands abandon the task of removing your dress in favor of tracing the curve of your ass before picking you up off the floor.

“First door on the right,” you tell him, your words answering his unspoken thoughts as if you could read his mind. Chan nods, your proximity making it impossible for him not to press his lips to yours, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before licking into your mouth with a low hum.

He collides with a wall, missing the entrance to your bedroom by a hair’s breadth, and you giggle against his lips. Chan smiles back. Nothing’s ever heavy with you.

He lowers you onto the bed gently, his body instinctively slotting between your spread legs the way he did so many times before. You soon also wrap your thighs around his waist as you always did, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed up against your clothed pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, grinding your hips forward and eliciting a quiet moan from Chan’s lips as he hastily nods. With a tight grip on your waist, he flips you both effortlessly.

Promptly sitting up on his thighs, you finally rid yourself of the inconvenient fabric of your dress, followed by your bra, your nipples instantly hardening. Chan sits up, eyes transfixed on your chest as his calloused thumbs trace the nubs before his lips circle around one, sucking harshly. As you gently roll your hips, he can feel the way your soaked panties cling to his skin as your core presses up against his thigh.

Your fingers tangle in his hair with a whimper, pushing his face into your breasts as he bites the sensitive skin. His lips leave your nipples with a wet sound, then trailing kisses up the column of your neck until his gaze is locked on yours again. He was dying to mark you, bite and suck on your skin until it blossomed into a beautiful maroon — but he knew better. You weren’t twenty anymore, and you weren’t his; in no sense of the word.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, eyes heavy with lust.

And he knows this is a terrible idea. This was exactly how he came to be a father.

But it’s not his mind that’s doing the thinking, and so he nods, his grip on your hips tightening as you pull your soaked panties to the side just enough to slide the swollen tip of his cock against your slick folds. Chan sucks in a breath, fighting a war against his own body not to come from this feeling alone. It wasn’t just how long it had been since he was with someone, it was you. It was all you. The effect you had always had on him having never faded, simply laying dormant until his body had you again.

Chan rests his forehead on yours as you slowly sink down on his length. His lips find your neck again, gently sucking the skin into his mouth as you slowly grind down on him, a whine falling from your lips and going straight to his cock. His hips buck up unwittingly, causing you to moan loudly in his ears. But your slow pace remains, and Chan knows he should savor this moment, but he wants nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until he forgets every minor issue aggravating his brain.

Such as the fact that he knows you will leave his life again the second you find out he lied to you.

So his hands find your waist and he flips you down onto the mattress once more. His eyes bore into you as you suck in a breath.

“Fuck me,” you plead, hips grinding into his cock again. “I want it, please—”

Chan doesn’t waste another second, retreating only to plunge back harshly into your cunt. He moves with deep strokes, hips falling into an erratic rhythm, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clenched around his waist. All he can hear is static and your choked moans as he presses you into the mattress.

“Missed this so fucking much,” he groans against your ear. And finally succumbing to his desires, he bends down to suck and nibble on the delicate skin of your neck, mind too focused on how your walls squeeze around him to worry about marking you. He laps at the small bruises he leaves behind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you mewl.

You roll your hips, matching his rhythm, and Chan feels a familiar heat rise within him. He reaches down to glide small circles around your clit, your body jolting and squirming. He absentmindedly smiles against your skin.

After an entire night of pretending his life was the same as it was five years ago, fucking you required no acting.

“It’s too much, fuck,” you whimper, tugging him by the hair until your lips are crashing together in a sloppy kiss. Your walls tighten around him, body clenching as the tension finally snaps, your orgasm coursing through your shaking body as Chan growls into your parted lips.

He keeps fucking into you, until his hips meet yours one last time, and a low groan reverberates through the room. His cock twitches inside of you as his body stills, filling you with his warm release which leaked out of you and onto your sheets as he pulled out with a sigh.

Chan throws himself onto the mattress, labored breaths leaving his heavy lungs. He pulls you into his arms, and you melt into his embrace as if it were a habit. It’s as though he’s gone back in time, even if temporarily.

He feels like he’s simply a guy making love with the girl he adores in the familiar comfort of his dorm room again.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into your room, Chan was already awake. He watched as you slept, eyelids fluttering and a small smile adorning your lips.

It was as if you were his, in every sense of the word.

Guilt.

That’s what Chan feels every time he sees Hyerin’s laughing face on his phone’s wallpaper when he’s out, entertaining the silly lie he crafted.

It’s been two months since you reconnected and you effortlessly slipped him back into your life. The reunion with his old friends was expected — but Chan dreaded it, regardless. He found that out of the nine people that once comprised their group, only five remained. He wasn’t the only one who had gone his own way.

But he was the only one who had done it in the worst way possible, carelessly ghosting every single one of them, hoping his existence gradually faded from their memories.

That made facing his once best friend frightening. Minho was the first friend he made on the very first day of university, when Chan walked into his dorm room only to find he had snuck his cat into the building.

They were roommates for two years, and best friends for four. Chan complained loudly when he was assigned a new roommate. Minho was silent as he watched his best friend turn his back on him with no explanation.

Minho initially ignored him entirely, and Chan doesn’t fault him. When his vibrant face turned cold upon seeing him walk into a bar, Chan knew he earned that the moment he decided to ignore his friend’s every text message and phone call. When Minho made backhanded remarks about how nice it felt to have him back in their group, he knew he deserved it for not answering the door the only time his friend came looking for him.

It takes a drunken argument leading to a fist colliding with Chan’s cheek for Minho to finally address him. It takes them being escorted out of the bar by security for them to finally have a conversation, tears and resentment flowing freely as they sat at a bus stop late at night. After that, their friendship returned to what it was before, as if they had never been apart even for a second.

Despite the years and the changes, Minho was still his best friend — which was why he was the only person he came clean to.

Hyerin loved Minho, especially his cats. Her new favorite pastime quickly became going over to his house to play with her new ‘friends’, as she called them. And Chan was overwhelmed with happiness to witness his best friend falling under his daughter’s spell — his house now containing its very own box filled with every toy Hyerin mentioned even once, his kitchen stocked with all her favorite foods, and his cats falling asleep beside her anytime they came over to visit.

It was as if he was watching his two worlds collide. His past and present, which he had separated out of a senseless fear, intertwined so effortlessly it made him feel stupid for ever thinking he needed to build this barrier. For assuming the people he loved so much would reject him.

Made him feel even worse for walking away in a futile attempt to protect his feelings, because it only resulted in more hurt.

After so much of his time spent wondering, Chan finally has the answer to his questions. Some of his friends did settle for an ordinary adult life, some already married and some focusing their energy solely on climbing the corporate ladder. Still, some remained relatively unchanged — much like you did.

His social life blossomed again after reconnecting with his old friends. However, he still refused to hire a nanny, too fearful to leave Hyerin to a stranger’s care, resulting in constantly having to come up with excuses when his parents aren’t able to babysit. He won’t deny that he often fabricated these lies purely because staying in with his daughter and watching Tangled now outweighs any appeal of noisy nightclubs.

Jisung remained his salvation whenever he wanted to spend the night at your place, with Chan slowly but surely running out of reasons as to why you can’t go to his apartment for a change. He hasn’t had the heart or the courage to tell you the entire truth yet, only owning up to his lie about his job after you understandably asked him to listen to his new music and he was put on the spot.

Ever since you walked back into his life, he finds himself weaving a web of little white lies that slowly chip away at his heart.

He’s at a small gathering for his friend’s birthday, listening to Minho all but eulogize his fiancee. They have been a couple since university, Chan playing the wingman and encouraging his friend to finally do something about his crush (mostly because he couldn’t handle any more of Minho’s whining before going to sleep). Despite what everyone around them surmised, they beat all the odds and statistics and stayed together even after university. Chan would be happier about that if he hadn’t bet money on them breaking up before graduation. He wonders if Hongjoong will ask for his twenty bucks now that they’re friends again. 

“No, really, settling down with someone is so good,” Minho says after another shot of Soju, a silly smile etched onto his lips. “I thought I would hate it, y’know? Thought slapping such a significant title on our relationship would wear it down, but it’s the complete opposite. Ever since she proposed, it’s like we’re two love-struck nineteen-year-olds again.”

Chan smiles, saying they should drink to that purely because he hopes the sensation of alcohol burning his throat will numb his overwhelming jealousy. After congratulating Minho for the umpteenth time, he finds himself listening to yet another story about his relationship.

And he’s happy for Minho, just as much as he’s happy for Wonwoo for getting married last year. He couldn’t express the overwhelming joy he felt upon discovering these people, who once meant so much to him, had successfully navigated their way through life. But envy rears its ugly head every time he listens to one of their stories, because Chan’s direction in life seems to be a winding road. He’s a father, and his love for Hyerin is immeasurable, but he’s still actively lying about this side of him simply because he feels as if maybe he made the right choices in life at the worst possible time.

As he’s walking out of Hongjoong’s apartment with you later that night, he wraps an arm around your waist, a smile spreading across his face when you nestle closer to him. You two discuss Wonwoo’s marriage, with you talking about how beautiful the ceremony was, but ultimately scowling at the mere thought of getting married. Chan feels the corner of his heart crack at your words, but he laughs it off.

“Do you think he wants kids?” he wonders aloud.

He expects you to laugh at his sudden curiosity. He doesn’t expect you to dig at the fissure in his heart with your words, causing it to shatter completely.

“Gosh, it’d be so weird to see.” You cringe, snuggling deeper into his arms as a chilly breeze brushes against you two. “I like kids, but I’d never have them myself. Feel like it’d kinda ruin my life.”

Chan feels his grip on your waist loosen.

“Having kids doesn’t ruin your life,” he reasons. “You’re given the chance to care for something so precious, so important to this world…” he trails off, shaking his head and taking a step away from you. It feels as if exasperation has filled his entire being. “You look into their eyes and see yourself, and it’s— the love you feel when you first see them is so pure and earth-shattering that you can’t think of anything but how to make that tiny being only experience the good in the world. It doesn’t ruin your life.”

You eye him with confusion, cocking your head to the side and huffing out a laugh. “You talk like you know what that’s like. If you ever have kids one day, then you’ll know—”

“But I do know,” he’s yelling before he can stop himself, his footsteps coming to a halt. “I know because I have that. I have that and it’s the most precious thing in my life and yet I’ve been taking it for granted. And for what?”

He scoffs bitterly, his gaze fixing on your features; your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged lipstick, the way your puzzled eyes gleam under the moonlight. He shakes his head. 

“For childish illusions. The illusion that I could go back in time if I pretended hard enough, the illusion that this romanticized idea I have of my early twenties was superior to the life I have now,” Chan lets out a heavy breath, averting his gaze to the pavement. “The illusion that I could ever have you.”

“So it’s my fault you chose to lie about being a dad?” You blurt out.

He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t, the burden of guilt and shame weighing too heavily on his shoulders for him to face you.

“It’s my fault. You were simply the catalyst.”

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I’ve always felt this way,” he exasperates, finally lifting his head but keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. He’s a coward. “I’ve always felt like maybe I was too young to be a dad, too immature to fully understand the consequences of the choices I made. I don’t regret my daughter, but I certainly regret the timing, and this haunts me every day. Meeting you again just made these feelings worse because you represent everything about my past that I no longer have.”

You remain quiet for a beat, but it feels like an eternity as Chan is forced to endure the deafening ring of your silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is unsteady. “You know, that’s why I always figured it was for the best that you left.”

“What?” Chan turns his gaze toward your face at last, your words stomping on his scattered heart one last time. He expects anger, but sorrow has taken over your expression, one so heavy he doesn’t recall a single moment in the years he’s known you where he’s seen you like this.

“You were always like this, Chan. You might think you were a different person back then, but you said it yourself,” you shrug with a sullen chuckle. “It’s only an illusion.”

He hums, nodding his head as it dawns on him. “You were never gonna be mine, were you? No matter what I did. I lied to you because I thought you would never want someone like who I am today. But I guess that was all in vain, ‘cause I’ve always been like this.”

“You always talked about getting married, settling down, having kids.” As you run a hand through your hair, an exasperated sigh falls from your lips. “You went along with our bullshit, but even back then, you were always like the dad of our group. This has always been you, Chan, but that’s not a bad thing. Don’t think you need to change or lie about who you are ‘cause you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but…”

He scoffs. “But?”

“But we’re too different. We’ve always been. We’re great together in every way but the way you want us to be — the way I would love for us to be as well,” you simply say, offering him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And would it kill you if we tried? ‘Cause this unfulfilled hope has been killing me since I first fell in love with you.”

“What’s her name?” You simply ask, avoiding his question altogether. Chan furrows his brows. “Your daughter, what’s her name?”

He shifts on his feet. “Hyerin.”

“I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you as a dad.”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m far from the perfect father.”

“Good,” you state matter-of-factly. “Perfect wouldn’t be you.”

You fall into a much lighter silence, although it’s still far from comfortable. A swarm of questions fills Chan’s mind, but his words fade into silence and die on his lips.

He knows everything is over when you suck in a sharp breath, muttering, “I can’t be what you need. When love becomes too serious, I feel trapped and run away. You know what that’s like,” you trail off. “I know we loved each other back then, and I know I still love you now, but I think it’s my turn to walk away. I’m sorry, Chan.”

And just like that, he’s left to watch your figure slowly grow smaller and smaller as you fade into the dimly lit street. You don’t reprimand him for lying or question if he also loves you still. You don’t explain why you can’t make an effort, probably because you’re unsure of the answer yourself. It turns out you both remained unchanged.

And after all this time, it’s only then that Chan realizes you were always just as lost as he was.

Chan didn’t allow himself to think much about you since he watched you walk away that night. He missed you often, as he had done for so long before your last encounter, but he had long grown numb to that feeling.

In the two years he was apart from you for the second time, he learned that life isn’t black or white. He could be a father while also being his own person; a son, a friend, a boyfriend. He learned that prioritizing Hyerin didn’t mean neglecting himself, as that would negatively impact her as well. She couldn’t only know happiness if her father was always dripping with sadness.

He learned he doesn’t have to choose between who he is now and who he was at twenty years old; they were both him, with certain moments bringing out glimpses of one or the other.

Hyerin started elementary school and is blossoming into a caring little girl, no longer needing Chan to tie her pigtails in the morning or remind her to brush her teeth before bed. Although she still demands that they maintain their nightly routine of lying together until she falls asleep to the sound of his voice singing her favorite song.

During his first parent-teacher conference — after walking into the classroom fifteen minutes late — he’s stunned to see you sitting across from him yet again, a pencil holding up your ponytail the same way it did that night at the restaurant. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.

You were Hyerin’s teacher. He recalled picking her up after her first day of school and listening to her gush over the art teacher who was so pretty and nice, and talking about how she wanted to be like her when she grows up.

It felt as if you were destined to find each other every time one of you chose to walk away.

Your friendship picked up again slowly this time — no rushing into bed together and no rushing into long overdue serious conversations. They had already been avoided for years, anyway, they could wait a bit longer. This is exactly what you needed; patience. Chan had never had the patience to wait for you, while you never had the patience to understand your own feelings.

It’s been ten months now, and he’s yet again sitting before you. The teachers and parents converse around you both as you sit in silence. When you think no one is watching, you exchange glances, struggling to suppress the silly smiles that insist on spreading across your faces.

As people leave the room one by one after the meeting, Chan approaches you.

“You’re Bang Hyerin’s father, correct?” You speak with a grin.

“Correct.”

“She’s an amazing kid,” you tell him.

He smiles, shifting his gaze toward his feet before his eyes find yours again as you speak.

“We could grab a coffee this weekend.”

This time, there are further implications hidden in your request. You’re not asking as a friend, like you’ve been doing these past months. Some things are heavy with you now, and this is something he’s only recently come to find. He’s also come to find that he loves that change.

So he answers, “Sure. Tomorrow at three?”

“Then I’m your date for tomorrow,” you say with a giggle. “See you there, cutie.”

And Chan lets out a hearty laugh at that, which earns him a scolding look from the other teachers in the room.

He isn’t sure what will come of this. Maybe you two are better off as friends and all it will take is a couple of months to figure that out. Maybe time has changed you both more than he can understand, and you will finally be able to try something real after all these years of unfulfilled hopes and childish illusions.

Either way, Chan knows he won’t let go of you this time.

He wants you to be his, in any sense of the word.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie @vlctorriaa @yongbokkiesworld

[sematarygirls]

 ☀️ ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── introducing sunshine!reader

warmth personified .ᐟ  ball of energy.  777.  folk music.  sunflowers.  fleetwood mac.   crystals. polaroid pictures.  soft floral patterns.  vinyl records. all things vintage.  rom coms.  charm bracelets.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who seems to leave a trail of warmth wherever she goes, like she's made of sunshine. her presence is almost magnetic, and she has a way of making friends with everyone. she doesn't subscribe to the kooks vs. pogues mentality, instead believing that everyone deserves the same amount of kindness, even if they are not kind to her.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who works at her grandmother's antique shop during the week and volunteers at the local animal shelter on the weekends. after hurricanes and extremely bad storms, she volunteers to help with the clean up and brings food to people that were particularly affected by the storms.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who loves to bake and dance around the kitchen to her favorite band fleetwood mac. she longs to see stevie nicks in concert one day and has a big jar on her dresser with money she's saved up to go. it's decorated with stickers and doodles, surrounded by her favorite crystals and knick knacks for good luck.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader whose room is a kaleidoscope of everything she's ever loved—walls covered in polaroid pictures, pressed flowers, posters, and art prints. vinyl records are stacked haphazardly next to an old turntable, and her bed is covered in a quilt her grandmother made along with all her favorite stuffed animals, some of them having patches of mis-matched fabric sewed in.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who has collections of about a thousand different things— buttons, stamps, coins, records, dolls, bottle caps, post cards. she's always stashing random little things away like a squirrel hoarding nuts.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who smells of vanilla and coconut with a hint of something distinctly nostalgic, like spending an exciting afternoon with your inviting grandparent as a child. she greets people with a bright smile and a wave, her bracelets jingling with each movement, like her own personal melodic theme song.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who can't resist a cute animal. she's the kind of girl who rescues stray cats and dogs to find them a new home and always wants pet any fluffy animal she comes across, consequences be damned.

.ᐟ    sunshine!reader who takes rafe completely by surprise. he's never met anyone quite so cheery, especially not a pogue, and the way she brushes off his arrogance and ignores his cruel words intrigues him greatly. she seems to see past him, almost like she knows the motivations for his actions better than he does, and it scares him like hell, but at the same time, he can't stop thinking about her.

           ୭ৎ sunshine!reader works below .ᐟ

    01. sunshine!reader playlist.

    02. sunshine!reader &&. rafe's first meeting.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

Standing in an empty alleyway, Lyf wiped their eye once again. They put the phone down with the rest of their things. In their hand, they held a picture. One that reminded them why they were doing this. It was for them. It was for everyone they ever cared about.

It was supposed to make it easier, but it didn't. They still hurt. They hurt so badly.

Opening the portal was easy, though. Taking that first step, that was easy, too.

Lyf closed their eye, walking through the portal and expected to hear the screams, smell the rotten flesh of the corpses collected throughout the years, feel the bitter coldness that the Bifrost offered.

Instead, they felt.. a warmth? They opened their eye and felt their heart sink. They weren't in the Bifrost.

Shit.

"Quilt?"

(( @lyfedda

Laertes stands in the middle of a bedroom, an absolute mess of a place, with crafts supplies and various textiles scattered all about. They seem different since last they saw each other, with patchwork ears and a tail, and shattered kaleidoscope eyes. He’s drawing all over the wall in what appears to be chalk.

Laertes stares for a moment. Why are they here? They used her power, that’s not- how did they-

Oh.

“Lyf.”

[children-of-the-farm]

A small quilt with long braids, cat ears and a tail, and broken kaleidoscope eyes falls from the ceiling, back on his feet in a moment with a Hunter's agility.

"Right! You're Pakhet then, babe?"

@laertesthelocalstranger

pahket blushes slightly at the pet name. she shakes it off. she doesn’t have time for this. “yes. you the quilt i talked to before?”

[bevanne46]

My Newest Quilt is Complete

Kaleidoscope Mickey Lap Quilt Handcrafted by Me - A One-of-a-Kind Quilt!!

Mickey Mouse in Bold Colors of Blues, Greens, Red, Oranges & Yellow with a Kaleidoscope Pattern on a Navy-Blue Flannel Backing that wraps around to form the edge binding. Fancy Quilt Stitching Finishes off this wonderful Lap Quilt. Measures Approx. 53”W x 65”L

Purchase this quilt here: https://www.tedooo.com/product/66437a1995837770d547b3b6

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A List of "Beautiful" Words: Variegation

Variegation—diversity of colors

Bar code - variously patterned bars and spaces

Barber pole - diagonal stripes of red and white or of red, white, and blue

Butterfly - brightly colored

Calico - blotched or spotted, predominantly white with red and black patches

Candy cane - red and white

Chameleon - changing colors

Checkerboard - having two alternating colors

Cheetah - yellowish to tan coat covered with numerous round to oval black spots

Confetti - brightly colored

Crazy quilt - patchwork without a design; colorful, jumbled

Dalmatian - white with many black or brown spots

Harlequin - a variegated pattern; a combination of patches on a solid ground of contrasting color (as in the coats of some dogs)

Iris - rainbow colored

Jaguar - brownish yellow or buff with black spots

Joseph's coat - having many colors; with variegated foliage

Kaleidoscope - variegated changing colors or patterns

Leopard - tawny or buff with black spots arranged in rosettes

Mackerel sky - a sky covered with rows of altocumulus or cirrocumulus clouds resembling the patterns on a mackerel's back

Marble - veined or mottled appearance

Moire - wavy watered appearance

Mother-of-pearl - iridescent

Nacre - mother-of-pearl; iridescent

Ocelot - tawny-yellow or grayish coat dotted and striped with black

Opal - iridescent play of colors

Patchwork quilt - various colors and shapes

Peacock - tipped with iridescent spots

Rainbow - a multicolored array

Serpentine - usually dull green and often mottled

Shot silk - two or more colours producing an iridescent appearance

Spectrum - a continuum of color

Stained glass - colored glass

Tapestry - characterized by complicated pictorial designs

Tortoise shell - mottled brown and yellow coloring

Watered-silk - pattern like that of silk subjected to watering

Zebra - patterned in stripes of black or dark brown and white or buff

More: Lists of Beautiful Words ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[villainsally]

To be loved is to be changed

kaleidoscope fluff

Malitae had made them a quilt, colors and patterns swirling. Quixis knew that xe wanted them to use the gift, but they never had. Always too scared to touch it in fear of destroying their partner's hard work. They knew malitae had worked hard for weeks on this gift for them. Embroidering little things in the squares. Well, most of the quilt was random shapes, almost mimicking the wack. 

Today, however, Quixis had decided they needed the comfort. The worldport continued to crumble and decay and Sherberts continued to ignore them. They pulled the quilt down carefully from the shelf it lived on. Shaking it out and running their fingers along it, feeling the patterns. Their fingers brushed against embroidery they didnt know existed and as they did, the embroidery glitched to a yellow on the purple fabric it was on. 

“To be loved is to be changed” the text on the quilt read. Quixis could almost hear their partner saying that. Faer voice soft yet slightly teasing. Mal always kept things at least a little playful. It was in his nature. Quixis continued to run their fingers along the edges, uncovering more little messages, more than a few hearts stitched into the fabric. Little details that could only be uncovered by Quixis glitching them. It made them feel less guilty about ruining this quilt. There were patterns made for them specifically, patterns only they could uncover. It was …. Sweet. Malitae was sweet. 

Quixis was praying to whatever powers remained that they could stay with Malitae, that they could lead a somewhat normal life with them, though, on the other hand nothing was normal when Mal was involved. Xe made their life as bright and vibrant as the blocks they glitched in. 

There was a pang of guilt remembering the clothes Quixis had accidentally changed, though Malitae never seemed to care. She seemed to enjoy the new patterns, calling them “unintentional art”. Fae enjoyed a lot of the wacked things. She always said the island they sat together on was their favorite of all the end islands. 

Many things may not have gone great in Quixis’ life, but they really hoped this would. They wanted someone to laugh with, to cry with, to just exist with. 

Suddenly a chime came on the communicator Rae had given Malitae to give to Quixis. They slipped on their gloves so that they wouldnt damage the fragile structures and turned on the communicator. It was a message from Malitae!

“⏅⍾⍅ ⌬! ⏅⌘⍬ ⌗⌭⍾ ⍅⌘⍕?  ⌆⌗⍹ ⍅⌘⍕ ⌆⌘⭗⍾ ⏚⌘ ⏚⏅⍾ ⦚⍩⍔⍹⍋? ˁ•ᴗ•ˀつ～❤”

Their emoticons were always so cute. Quixis quickly texted back a “yeah ofc”. They were excited to be able to see their partner again. The little bear giving a heart made them feel giddy. Malitae really was amazing. They were so glad to have a partner who cared for them like this, finding ways to comfort them even when they were apart. Quixis promised themself they’d give Malitae the same love M gave them. M was worth the risk of loving them. Yeah, thats what it was, love.

@the-sunshine-dims @sage-is-in-fact-very-tired @jinxybri

hope y'all enjoyed it! It is in fact about 400 words longer than originally planned.

[fashionbooksmilano]

Diana Vreeland Bazaar Years

Including 100 audacious Why Don't Yous...?

John Esten

Universe Publ.,New York 2001, 80 pages, 23,5x28,5 ISBN 0-7893-0627

euro 180,00

"Why Don't Yous . . . tie black tulle bows on your wrists? have a yellow satin bed entirely quilted in butterflies? remember how delicious champagne cocktails are after tennis or golf? Indifferent champagne can be used for these." For more than half a century, Diana Vreeland, doyenne of American fashion, beguiled, awed, astonished, and was adored by almost anyone who created or wore clothes. Irresistible and flamboyant, socialite Mrs. T. Reed Vreeland began her now legendary twenty-five-year tenure at Harper's Bazaar writing a column of audacious advice: extravagant ideas that helped redefine American women and twentieth-century fashion. Her commentary created a fashion frenzy when it began appearing in Harper's Bazaar in 1936. Her ideas were simultaneously stylish and outrageous, and have as much appeal today as they did decades ago. Here for the first time, John Esten has compiled one hundred of Mrs. Vreeland's kaleidoscopic "Why Don't Yous . . . ?" suggestions, and paired them with the breathtaking works of such renowned photographers and artists as Munkacsi, Dahl-Wolfe, Hoyningen-Heune, and Bérard, which further capture the dazzling legacy of whimsy, elegance, and style of Mrs. Vreeland's Bazaar years.

07/11/24

[jules-writes-stories]

The second part to Dear Elain. A little writing prompt/short...

Dear Lucien,

I think about you more often than I should. How frightened you must have been. A flicker of light in a court of foggy mornings and midnight bonfires. Home, but never quite.

I’m sure there were moments of joy. Bare feet in mud puddles, little boy limbs clinging to tree tops, the cool breeze on your face. I bet you were a wild one, roaming the forests of Autumn. (More below)

Did your mama make you stay out of the sun, for fear you would bronze too quickly? Were you made to dim your shine, with nervous shakes of the head and flinty, sidelong looks at the dinner table? 

Were you afraid of the dark? Or perhaps, when the door snicked shut, and the curtains were drawn, you felt relief. All alone, beneath the quilt, you would release that tiny sun in your chest, one beam at a time. And finally breathe. 

And when you found something more, all mischief and laughter, they called her lesser. Did you think you would stay broken, when they left her, broken, at your feet? 

I have felt like you so often, Lucien. In the Autumn of my own childhood, laughing too loudly, trying too hard. Too shiny… just a little too much. Eager hand shooting up at the teacher’s questions, then, hearing the cruel laughter behind me, the flames burning my face, quickly pulling my hand down, and the lights dimming, dimming, dimmed. I know that feeling, of pushing the light deep into one's chest, one's belly, shoulders curling in to keep it down. Most of us do…

But my dear Lucien, how could you have known that there was a someone made for you? She was planting a kaleidoscope of flowers behind a sad gray cottage, in a muddy village full of sneering faces. How could you have known, that she was wishing for a new cloak, and to see the tulips of the Continent? 

How could you have known, that she would fall, at your feet, terrified, made immortal, and you would be there to cover her with the cloak from your own back? 

Hold on a little while longer. For your story is just beginning, and all the best stories take the longest to tell. But it will be a love story for the ages. 

For once upon a time, there lived a Fae of fire and light, whose skin shone golden brown. And he fell in love with a girl, wrapped up in Night and battlefields, who longed for a life of sunshine and gardens…

Yours in letters,

Jules

[siderealmaven]

Love Letters To Your Zodiac Sign <3

Dear Aries,

Did you know that there is nothing wrong with being angry? It means you’re alive and attuned, sensitive and observant. You’re more intelligent than people give you credit for because the things you’ve seen and come to know are not something you can stay silent about. Your voice and actions have impact, a butterfly affect that spreads like wildfire, igniting the hearts of all who dare to get close to you.

Your anger is a sacred wild thing. It warms the body, it cradles the heart and motivates the mind to strive for something better. When you stop being ashamed of all they have labeled as aggressively too much, you’ll come to understand you need every untamable part of yourself to achieve your dreams. You will accept you could not be led because you were meant to lead and leaders must be able to defend and protect all they hold dear. Be proud of your strength. The world needs it.

Dear Taurus,

Did you know that it’s okay to invest in yourself? You don’t always have to put everyone else first. This body, this mind, this soul are yours and you are in charge of protecting and nurturing it. You cannot allow others to treat you like a plot of farmland to be tilled, sown and reaped until the soil is depleted. There is no smile worth that pain. Don’t even bother with those barbed wire fences, make sure you go for the iron and stone. This land is sacred land.

Don’t listen to the people who try to tell you what you should plant or how to make it grow. You were born for this and the plan must come from you. The vision and the work and the sweat must come from you. They will stand at your gates and beg to sit by your flowers and eat at your table after swearing that you would never harvest anything. Go ahead and let them see your smile as you say “This one is just for me.”

Dear Gemini,

Did you know that it’s okay for you to speak your mind, even before you’ve already made it up? The best ideas come mid-sentence and give you unexpected endings. It’s okay to delight in the excitement of seeing what your brain will divulge next, to feel curiosity towards your own subconscious without shame or reservation. You are like a magician and each time you cast a spell the result is different, a never ending kaleidoscope of brand new colors.

You have the heart of the inventor and the hands of a craftsman, you were built to create with wild abandon. Every time you allow yourself to wander and drift, to rebel against the rigid lines laid out for you, you follow the sound of your own inner voice. It doesn’t matter if anyone else is listening or if anyone else believes. The most important question to ask yourself is this; do you?

Dear Cancer,

Did you know that it is okay to be soft? The walls around your heart shine like armor in the moonlight; a warning to stay back, a lure to come closer. A call to animals with sharp teeth. You don’t have to apologize for the way that you are made or the way that it makes others feel. But you do have a duty to protect and preserve these precious parts of yourself, to treat your body like a shrine to your own life. Putting up walls to do so does not make you a bad person.

In a world that is cold and cruel more often than not, the softness of Cancer is like a warm fireplace, setting the living room aglow. It’s the warm stew in your favorite bowl and the handmade quilt laid over your lap. Without Cancer’s softness there would be no comfort, no nurturing hand, and no growth. There would be no safe places to land. So go head and hang up your artwork and light the scented candle. These small touches are what makes your house into a home and home is what the world needs, more than anything.

Dear Leo,

Did you know that it’s okay to want to be alone sometimes? You were born in the spotlight and I know you love the way it enhances your natural shimmer. There is nobody that can steal the stage and captivate the crowd quite like you can. However I know there are times when you wish you could just sit quietly and observe things, let your sparkly clothes rest and your cheeks recover from flashing that mega watt smile. So why do you keep pushing yourself to do more than is humanly possible?

The ooohs and aaaahs are certainly not worth the burn out. Your best work will be born in those quiet moments of solitude, when you allow yourself to reflect on your own thoughts and feelings without another person’s input. These are good times to ask yourself if your own needs are being met. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sauce when you’re constantly surrounded by others. Today, give yourself a break and ask yourself the real question. What makes you feel like a million bucks even when no one is looking at all?

Dear Virgo,

Did you know that it is okay to not always have the answers? There is a delicate element of beauty to uncertainty and it deserves your attention. There is a softness in the waiting and something like the relief in letting go of the need to know. Your value isn’t dependent upon your ability fix things and provide for others, much less in your ability to spout off information when someone asks for it. Who are you trying to save with your knowledge?

The most important answers are found within the quiet stillness, where thoughts can run free without expectation. Hit pause on your routine, forget about your schedule and step outside of your comfort zone. Leave the mess exactly like it is. Wander outside and let your mind contemplate the shapes in the clouds. Imagine the butterfly floating by has something important to share with you. This is how you save yourself.

Dear Libra,

Do you know that it’s okay to say No? You don’t have to be everything to everybody all of the time. There are pieces of you that were only ever meant to be yours and you have to guard them as fiercely as any treasure. There are times to be graceful and kind, and there are times to growl and roar like the animal we all are at the end of the day. When is the last time that you let your inner beast out to play? Let it scream with wild abandon?

The thing about rules is that we made them up. We can deconstruct and discard them, build them back up in a new image. There are society’s rules and then there are your rules for yourself. Does your personal code of honor actually serve you and your goals, or is it designed to keep you safe on someone else’s chessboard? If you’re tired of playing this game, then take off your helmet. You’re free to create your own rules and your own game, whenever you choose.

Dear Scorpio,

Did you know that it’s okay to let your guard down every once in a while? I know the world is full of terrifying monsters, but you were born with a knife in your hands and that is pretty scary too. Besides, there is more to life than just defending yourself. Like community, friends and family, who are on the other side of these mile high walls. I know you have every reason to be scared of vulnerability but we all know it’s what you crave the most.

Believe it or not, the things about you that make you different than everyone else are the most alluring thing about you. You don’t have to share yourself with everybody, but don’t make people who are jumping through hoops wait outside your door forever. Pay attention to who shows you curiosity and sees your authenticity as the gift it really is. The world has a lot to learn from your emotional strength and resilience.

Dear Sagittarius,

Did you know that it is okay for you to change your mind? That it the beauty of life; it is ever changing and so are you. You don’t have to hang on to your old selves, perspectives, beliefs or desires and carve them into stone. You don’t have to be who you were yesterday. I know that some people will call you flighty or uncommitted, but you were made to explore, discover, and evolve with the times. Stagnation is a disservice to your growth.

Growth is the ultimate commitment and the most difficult to keep, but you’re devoted like no other. You’re allowed to focus on yourself and prioritize your own perspective. The greatest teacher is not someone you must find and follow, but the organ beating inside your chest. Quiet down and listen to its whispers. What truth is pumping through your veins? Are you brave enough to acknowledge it? You’re the only one who can.

Dear Capricorn,

Did you know that you’re allowed to have nice things? There is no point to Life if you don’t let yourself enjoy it. And I don’t mean the expensive cars and designer bags, I mean the homemade muffins fresh from the oven, just like your grandmother use to make. I’m talking about the fresh sheets on the bed sprayed with your favorite scent and letting yourself sleep in a little longer than you’re supposed to. I mean that hug that you really need, but won’t let yourself ask for.

It’s okay to ask for things, to need things, and to want them. Comfort isn’t inherently evil because it is temporary and you are not inherently undeserving because you’ve previously found it out of reach. And my love, don’t you know? You don’t have to work for it all either. The best things in life are free, arriving in the worn palms of a dear friend who’s been wondering where you’ve been. Won’t you open the door?

Dear Aquarius,

Did you know that it’s okay to let yourself been seen? You’re not going to burst into flames the second you allow someone to get to know you. But you certainly will start to slowly decay if you never allow anyone in, just saying. Sure there will be people who don’t understand and even people who purposely misunderstand, but you are free to ignore them the way they are ignoring the best parts of you. You shouldn’t ignore yourself just because they did it first. Who wins in that scenario?

You may not want to hear it, but the best parts of you are the ones you’re afraid to be open about. But that fear isn’t necessarily something that should stop you. The truth is that you are not as alone as you might think. There are lots of people out there who are hiding these same thoughts, feelings and sides of themselves too. When you take the leap and let yourself be authentic, it gives them permission to come out of hiding. So raise your flag high and ignore the haters. The friends and family you’ve been waiting for are making their way towards it.

Dear Pisces,

Did you know that you don’t have to believe everyone? Your heart is big and receptive, so it’s natural for you to want to give everyone the same empathy and benefit of the doubt that you wish was afforded to you. However, not every story is true and not every story is told with good intent. It’s important that you learn to discern the difference between people who have earned your affection and understanding, versus those who are just looking to take advantage of it.

The same way you don’t have to believe everything others say, you don’t have to reject your own story just because someone else has. Sensitive, intuitive people are going to pick up on things that others don’t and their inability to do so is not a reflection of you, your validity, or your worth. Make sure you prioritize relationships with people who believe you the first time, see your sensitivity as a strength, and encourage you to believe in yourself. Your story after all, is worth telling too.

Originally published on @siderealmaven's Patreon Page.

[jonnylovers-in-neverland]

The band have just announced a new project called A Film For The Future, the 44-minute visual companion to their worldwide No. 1 album, Moon Music.

The film will premiere worldwide on YouTube on January 22, with special 360-degree screenings of the film taking place at Lightroom in London, Manchester and Seoul. Tickets are on sale now here.

The film was created by over 150 different visual artists from 45 countries. Each artist was given a handful of music snippets from Moon Music and asked to create corresponding visuals. There were no rules or guidelines, and no knowledge of other artists’ creations.

Executive Producer Ben Mor, who also directed Coldplay and Beyoncé in 2016’s Hymn For The Weekend video, says the result is “a kaleidoscopic patchwork quilt – a 44-minute multimedia tapestry.”

Ben Mor continued: “It was a huge privilege to have the bird’s eye view of such an ambitious project, working with so many incredible animators and filmmakers all working independently of each other. The final film is simply jaw-dropping and I can’t wait for Coldplay’s fans to see it.”

Coldplay said: “We’re very grateful to all the amazing artists who lent their genius to this film. They’ve created something very beautiful and we’re extremely proud of it.”

A Film For The Future was first teased on a car numberplate in the artwork to 2019’s Everyday Life, with a section of the project appearing in July 2024 as the lyric video for the band’s single feelslikeimfallinginlove.

A fan-led remix site for the film, powered by Microsoft AI, will also launch at afftf.coldplay.com on January 22.