#kids foam surfboard

[rock-itsurf]

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[wild-grinders]

Wild Grinders: The Fan Analysis (Pt.1)

Okay. This entire analysis of Wild Grinders will end up being a trilogy because IT. WILL. BE. LONG. (for Tumblr) This one is the defense of Wild Grinders. It will focus on what the series “is” and “isn’t.” Basically, the main idea is to look at it directly and avoiding opinions.

The next mini-essay will be a criticism, and the final will focus on the improvements of the series. But here, we need to lay out some rules/disclaimers:

the person writing this is already consider deranged for liking wild grinders. if you’re here to be a hater, then youre the one whos losing the sanity game

the person writing this is not affiliated to Wild Grinders in any form, tried tagging Dyrdek and Tracy my fanart and they did not look at it

there will be no academic sources for this because there aren’t any peer-reviewed articles of wild grinders that exist

 it’s 2023, everything’s a fever dream in our timeline

no beta at all

Let’s begin by addressing some statements that the internet loves to share. (It’s misinformation actually).

Wild Grinders is a rip-off of Rocket Power! >:(

Let’s address that this statement is half-assed. Yes, both TV series are about skateboarding. Yes they’re aimed at preteens. And yes they aired on Nickelodeon. However, they are actually not the same.

Rocket Power’s main focus was on extreme sports and accuracy. The cast was accurate from the way they behaved to even their ethnic voice actors. The settings are based off the real locations of Southern California and Hawai’i. And the sports were highly accurate in terms of safety and the way they are practiced. They don’t focus on skateboards only; they include surfboarding, roller blades, and hockey. But they also include the injuries that can happen in these sports.

Wild Grinders takes on ‘artistic liberties.’ The show is inaccurate when it comes to actual extreme sports, but everything is given an imaginative twist. None of the characters are fatally harmed from getting shocked or eating concrete. There’s shrink rays, fairy tales, and pop culture references everywhere. Even the setting is a “we can do whatever we want because everything is not real” situation. Earlier projects (the toy line) takes place in ‘Ketterville’, inspired by Rod Dyrdek’s hometown in Ohio. However, the most of the show takes place in the fictional ‘Sprawl City’, a setting influenced by the west coast of California because that’s where Dyrdek lives (present). Most likely because it is where skateboarding originated. This is the reason why Wild Grinders is very skateboard-centric (surfboards/snowboards are an exception). Rather than looking at multiple extreme sports, Rod Dyrdek wanted to focus on the idea that skateboarding can build a community and bring people from different backgrounds together.

While Rocket Power has a narrative that’s written accurately, but Wild Grinders is more focused on creating a quirky kids’ cartoon. Arlene Klasky and Gabor Csupo have lifestyles that cannot compare to Rob Dyrdek and Tracy Tubera’s. Dyrdek hosts the show Ridiculousness, and it’s literally what the title implies; everything is ridiculous and over-the-top. Not only that, but Rob Dyrdek owns the Fantasy Factory; literally an extreme playground of an office! You can skate in there or drown in a ballpit full of foam cubes! Wild Grinders is an embodiment of what Rob Dyrdek loves; fun.

Another thing to add on: Rocket Power is for a different generation compared to Wild Grinders. The pop culture of 1999-2004 is different from Wild Grinders being aired in 2012-2014. In 1999, most kids never owned a phone. In 2012, there was new generation of children who grew up with smartphones and Instagram and my entire middle school (in that year) all had an iPhone. Wild Grinders was made a for a different generation where everyone knew about Ke$ha, Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, and Lady Gaga. Rocket Power aired during a time where everyone knew Backstreet Boys, Blink-182, Hilary Duff, and Mariah Carey. Two completely different generations.

Isn’t Wild Grinders the kid version of The Nutshack?

Listen. It aired a bit before Wild Grinders and ended before the TV series aired. It seems uncanny. But you need to stop comparing both of these shows just because it has a similar art style. Tracy was never involved in making The Nutshack. Tracy’s style is a lot more simplified and cuter than the animation.

However, it wouldn’t be a stretch if there was someone in the animation studio who ended up working on Wild Grinders and disrespecting Tubera’s original style. There are more post on this blog discussing the difference in quality of the animation and Tracy Tubera’s earlier works.

What is Wild Grinders then?

[From an Artprojekt Interview]: The original idea was a toy line that Rob Dyrdek wanted to create for Walmart. He had the idea of different types of skateboarders on different styles (and backgrounds). Since Dyrdek wasn’t an artist, he hired different artists to create his character designs, most of them didn’t live up to his vision. Chub City was the art style he was aiming for. He went to find out the artist who created the characters of Chub City and immediately hired Tracy Tubera on spot, saying that Tubera nailed the characters “first try.” They launched the Wild Grinders toy line from there. And it was successful from what everyone says. There’s no complaints about the toys (Just gonna insert that the Wild Grinders panel was around the same time as Monster High. To the Mattel employee reading this: you knew that Draculaura and Emo Crys were gonna be the best sellers).

On Rob Dyrdek’s first season of Fantasy Factory (01x07), he was always in the works about Wild Grinders. He made an episode where he made mascot costumes of the characters for everyone to wear and promote the toys. He even attempted to make everyone skate around the Fantasy Factory while in costume (it didn’t go well). But they all drove to Walmart to promote Wild Grinders and sign for fans. Later, Dyrdek was told to make another character for the toy line; Shark Attack. Rob Dyrdek had the abstract idea of this new character, also took it a step further. He went out to Florida to get “attacked” by sharks. Specifically, he was there to experience a shark feeding frenzy (A/N: Respect sharks please). Anyways, the character Shark Attack never got bitten by sharks, Rob Dyrdek said that his character got the ‘shark bite’ from a chain link fence. But Dyrdek had fun feeding the sharks underwater anyways. The things he does for his OCs.

Based on many interviews, he constantly refers to many of his characters as “cute.” Rob Dyrdek is a grown man and yet he’s able to say when something is cute. But that also leads to his intention when making Wild Grinders, he wanted the series to has a “cuteness factor.” Not like the sense of Hello Kitty or Littlest Pet Shop, but this he has his own definition of what it means. The best examples are Meaty and Emo Crys. Meaty is a dog, it’s easy to make dogs cute in media. But Emo Crys? A human character? Yes. Rob Dyrdek has said that Emo Crys was one of his most favorite designs if he couldn’t say Meaty as an answer. When he worked on Emo Crys’s character, he seemed to have put the most thought into it and fans also adored him. He only states that Emo Crys is a crybaby and wears a cute little scarf, but that was just enough for him to be lovable. But it wasn’t just that one character, he also thought most of the characters were cute in their own ways.

Then there came the animated shorts and movies. “Golden Grinders” and “The Lost Skate Spot” were short movies that actually focused on making an actual narrative, but still keeping the imaginative tone that Rob Dyrdek wanted. These shorts were focused on promoting the toys; by giving the characters personalities and voices that can be seen. Some of the animation would soon become the 2012 show, but adjustments would be made that many people didn’t notice right away. One of them was the change in tone for Emo Crys and Jack Knife. Where they had different tones in the pilot animations, but drastically became different in the 2012 animation.

Out of all the early animations, this has to be the best one. It really captured Tracy Tubera’s art style and compliments the characters and setting and just the overall tone of Wild Grinders.

After the animated shorts and pilots, Nickelodeon greenlit the series. No one understood why, but the answer was simple: Nickelodeon was focusing on NickSports at the time and promoted things like football and endorsed famous sports celebrities. Rob Dyrdek was famous and popular at the time (my friend from Europe recognized him as the guy who built a giant skateboard). You get the idea by now.

Lo and behold, the Wild Grinders TV series was born.

In conclusion, Wild Grinders is a project made out of love and more of a personal work. Unfortunately, the craftsmanship doesn’t reflect the process of it. It was created from the idea of Rob Dyrdek’s original pack of skaters from his childhood. He rejected 5 artists on a deadline because they couldn’t capture what he envisioned. He and Tracy Tubera were fond of these characters throughout the toy line era. Then Dyrdek decided to feed sharks in Florida to gain inspiration for another character. Clearly, Rob Dyrdek was having fun and putting effort in the creative process. It’s just that people were more focused on the final product of Wild Grinders and that lead to hate and criticism of the series.

Next

[cheapandeasy]

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[passivenovember]

You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.

Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.

Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.

Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.

Billy was always looking.

It was so weird.

Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.

She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.

It was confusing.

Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.

Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.

Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.

Billy tried not to be jealous.

Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."

"Hey, that's not--"

"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"

And it was dumb.

It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.

Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.

The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.

Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.

No.

He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.

"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.

Steve started crying again.

Billy really wished he'd stop that.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.

And leave.

As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.

"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.

Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't.

Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.

--

"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.

A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.

He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.

Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.

Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.

Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."

"For who?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"

And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."

"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."

"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."

"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"

Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.

He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."

"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.

Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.

It was kinda gross.

Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.

The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.

Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"

"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."

"What's an Ick Monster?"

"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."

Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.

After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.

Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."

"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."

Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."

"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."

"Like you've ever kissed anyone."

Steve looked offended. "Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.

Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.

Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"

"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.

Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.

"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.

"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."

"I was already gonna do that, genius."

Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.

"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."

Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.

Shame.

"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."

"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."

Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."

Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.

Such a weird guy.

Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."

And.

Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.

Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.

Steve didn't take it back.

"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."

Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"

And.

Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.

"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.

Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.

"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."

Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

Huh.

Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.

--

On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Maxine was already up.

Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.

She was all ready for Valentines day.

Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.

She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.

"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"

"Race car!"

Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"

"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."

"It's my favorite too--"

"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.

She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."

Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"

"You do?"

"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"

Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"

"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."

Billy thought long and hard.

About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.

Kisses.

Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.

From someone special.

Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"

"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.

Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"

Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"

And.

Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.

Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.

"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."

"You don't have a boy to kiss?"

"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"

She thought about it.

Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."

Billy sighed. "Really?"

"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.

And.

Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.

--

From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.

All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.

Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.

Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.

He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.

She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.

They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.

She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"

Barbara pointed to the book shelves.

Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.

He was crying.

Of course he was crying.

Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.

Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"

And.

Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.

Pose the question.

Will you be my Valentine?

Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.

"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.

When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.

"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.

He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"

Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.

And Billy hated it.

He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.

Felt like he had to do something about it.

Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.

Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.

"Can I--"

"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.

Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.

Thick.

And heavy.

Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."

"That's okay."

"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"

"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.

Steve blinked at him, and.

Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.

Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"

Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.

It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.

Billy had thought it was perfect.

He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.

Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.

Didn't say anything.

Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"

Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.

Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."

Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"

"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"

Billy sat back against the pillows.

He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.

Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.

Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.

--

Happy Valentines Day!!

I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.

[platypanthewriter]

The Tanning Rock

Harringrove April prompt 28, Tanning--Creatures!AU (This one grew to nearly 6k and I’m so sorry) @wasting-time-again​ HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HAVE A MERMAN!  XD

The lawyer who summoned Billy—about an inheritance, he said—was...weird.  Straight out of a movie, with long incisors and a cravat, and he steepled his fingers as he talked.  

Max said he was probably actually a vampire, and Billy agreed—which was weird, because as far as Billy knew, his mom’s family wasn’t exactly old money, and it was hard to imagine a vampire getting on a plane to fly clear to California and summoning him to a crypt full of file cabinets, all just to read a will about his mom’s collection of surfing stickers and pile of old National Geographics.  

Billy knew his father had disowned him, so he bit his lips together, waiting to hear that his mother had died.

“I am here about the estate of your grandmother,” said the vampire lawyer, and Billy drew a shaky breath of relief.  “Your mother was disowned—” he said, and Billy almost snorted a laugh—like mother, like son, he thought, “—and so her domicile has passed to you.”

“Wait, what,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed.

“It is an unusual case,” said the lawyer—Fangun and Stayk, est. 986, read his card, but Billy wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Fangun or Stayk, or whether the whole thing was a joke yet, so he kept his mouth shut.  “You will take ownership of the house and land, however, you may not live there—that is, not year-round, not unless you are given an invitation by a resident.  It is a closed community.”

“...can I sell it?” Billy asked, and the deepset eyes of the lawyer stared back at him, bloodshot and dry.

“At well below market value,” he said, steepling his fingers again.  They made a dryish noise.  “As I said, they dislike outsiders.  And a stranger will be even more of an outsider than you, in whom runs...the blood of the place.”

Billy wondered, dully, whether he’d inherited a haunted graveyard, or a den of werewolves, and groaned into his hands.  Maybe he was part zombie somehow.  Just his luck.  “Where is it,” he sighed.

“It is not on commonly available maps,” said the vampire, and Billy nodded.  It figured, he thought, though his ears perked up considerably when his grandmother’s lawyer laid out a map of Hawaii.

 They got a ride from the shore on a fishing boat at four o’clock in the morning.  “It’s barely tourist season yet,” said the fisherwoman, showing Max how to steer.  “There will be a ferry, in a week or two, but I can give you two a ride out the day your visa’s up if the ferry quits sooner.”

“We want enough time to look around,” Max said, glancing at Billy.  They’d let their lease run out, and sold most of their things, because a few orange crates of records were a small price to pay for never running into Neil Hargrove around town.  “You could get a job on one of the normal islands,” Max had suggested, quietly, over and over.  “If they don’t like us enough.”

Billy’d never suggested moving Max so far away, but she’d assumed they were going, and after a while he went along with it.  It wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, getting a job in a hotel somewhere after the islanders threw him out.  Max would probably love it, in Hawaii.  

A fresh start, she had said, and it sounded good.

He and Max were greeted by a woman in a wheelchair, who stamped their passports.  “Technically, we’re a different country,” she said, smiling.  She had very brown skin, and looked contentedly half-asleep in the sun.  “You’re the only visitors on the island, for a week or two,” she said, cocking her head.  “We’re not always in a big hurry to scrub up the ferry for the summer.  We love the money, but the tourists...” she laughed, shaking her head.  “Three-month pleasure trip visa.  Have a nice summer,” she said, waving them away.  

Her benign lack of interest lessened Billy’s initial fears that he’d inherited membership in some rich, yoga-pants-wearing, white Human Superiority cult.  

 The house was traditional-ish, with a grass roof and walls, big open windows with no glass, only shutters, and a wide shaded veranda all the way around.  It looked over a beach with rolling waves, and Billy couldn’t wait to get his board out there.

“I’m gonna look around the house,” Max said.  “See if I can find any neighbors.  Maybe I can bring them cookies.”  She set her jaw, frowning around at their luggage, and the scattered pillows.  “Maybe we can buy some furniture somewhere.”

“...we can always just come here for summers,” Billy told her, breathing it in.  

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a great time getting a tourism job where you don’t work summers,” Max said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, and Billy realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that she expected him to figure it out.  Find someone who wanted him to stay, here, on the island, at his grandmother’s house.

“I’m no good at making friends, Max,” he reminded her, and she snorted.  

“Better get out of my hair, then.”  She folded her arms, taking another deep breath of the smell of grass in the sun.  After a long moment, she looked back at him again.  “...we’ve got a little over three months, Billy.”

He suspected it sounded longer to her.

 When he wandered down to the beach, Billy could see someone’s tanned shoulders lying across a jutting rock about fifty feet out, and he paddled a ways towards it on his surfboard, getting the lay of the ocean.  There was a rip tide, dark and eerily quiet, to his right, but the rest of the beach had shallow, warm, clear waves over white sand and coral until a dark dropoff about fifty feet out where the rolling waves began.  

As he paddled closer to the rock, he could see the man on it—asleep, Billy thought, just lying in the sun as the waves lapped at his skin.  As Billy drifted closer, paddling with his hands, he could see a long-fingered hand hanging in the water, and he paddled faster, suddenly wondering whether the man wanted to be out on a rock, or whether he was a Dude In Distress, his leg cramped, needing a ride to the beach on Billy’s surfboard and a trip around the boardwalk, and maybe some shaved ice.  

As Billy approached, the guy opened his eyes, frowning over at Billy with wide, half-awake brown eyes.  He pushed himself up on the rock with his arms like the goddamn Little Mermaid, Billy thought, amused. His throat went dry watching the flex of muscle, and the water droplets where the dude had lifted himself out of the bay.  

Billy paddled at random, a little, unable to tear his eyes away.  He cleared his throat.  “Just, uh, making sure you didn’t need any help,” he said, staring at the tanned arms and swimmer’s chest in front of him, nearly triangular, like a superhero.  “I, um.  Guess you’re fine.”

The guy raised his eyebrows, starting to smirk, and then his eyes widened, and Billy realized in a flash of blue and foam that he’d drifted right into the fucking rip tide.  Right in front of the gorgeous dude on the rock, Billy thought in the back of his mind, trying to hold onto his surfboard and let the rip tide take him wherever it would.  Just his luck, he thought, dying because he was so damn gay he saw nice shoulders and his brain switched off.  He hadn’t even gotten a chance to breathe before he got sucked down, and his lungs and sinuses were starting to ache worse than the rest of him, even as he was buffeted around against his board, when an arm slid around his waist.

He wanted to yell at the guy—and he did, in an explosion of bubbles—because what the hell good was it gonna do, swimming into a rip tide, but the muscles against his back and butt flexed, and they were moving sideways out of the rip tide, and then Billy’s head was above water.  He gasped and choked, coughing up half the sea.  The ocean moved soothingly around them, as this dude had no trouble holding Billy up, and Billy tried to clear his throat and eyes.  

“Have you seriously never seen a tail before,” the guy groaned, hauling Billy along like he was no more effort to lift than a little kid at the pool.  Billy felt rock against his thigh, suddenly, and scrambled onto it, coughing and wiping his eyes to see he was on the jutting rock the dude must have jumped off of, to save him.  

“How-how fucking humiliating,” he gasped out loud.  “Can’t believe.  C-can’t believe I fucking p-paddled into a rip tide.”

“You drifted back into the...yeah,” his hot rescuer said, still in the water, with one hand on the rock to hold him steady as he frowned at Billy.  His voice sounded a little odd—Billy was reminded of the Chinese grocery by his house, where their English was perfect, but they had a lilt as they tried to speak an atonal language with a tonal ear.  Up close, he was even prettier, with moles Billy wanted to track down his neck and shoulders, and a doubtful, scrunched-up mouth Billy wanted to kiss.

“Sorry,” Billy wheezed, still coughing.  “Sorry, I’m such a moron, sorry.”  He tried to keep his eyes above the water level, but some part of his brain kept looking for tanned legs kicking under the surface, and he suddenly registered that the moving colors weren’t just fish and anemones.  “Holy shit,” he coughed out.  “You have a tail.”

His rescuer frowned harder, probably worried Billy had brain damage.  “I figured that’s why you swam into the rip tide,” he said slowly, and Billy shook his head, groaning.

“No—fuck, I’m sorry, you—you’re just hot as fuck, I’m just a moron, I’m—damn it,” he sighed.  “Sorry, jesus, I’m so fucking rude, sorry, I just didn’t notice, I was like ‘How the hell did he get me out of there?  OH!’, sorry,” he muttered, sighing.  “...drown me.”

“I am though, right,” the merman said, grinning, “—hotter than you,” and Billy realized he’d found the only person on the island more annoying than he was.  

“Yeah, yeah, just laugh at the poor gay moron who nearly drowned staring at you, that’s nice,” he huffed, lying back against the warm rock to catch his breath.  

“Was it love at first sight?” asked his rescuer, and Billy opened his eyes to glare.  

“Shut up, asshole,” he grunted.  

“Just asking,” his tormenter asked.  “Are you gonna pine away, sighing over me?  Hey, d’you think you’ll always do that?  If I swim over in town, you think you’ll fall off the boardwalk?”

“Fuck you,” Billy told him, leaning his face in his arms and laughing.  “Yeah, probably, you shithead.  Are you gonna...follow me around?  So I can look like more of an idiot?”

“Mmm, can you though…” the gorgeous merman asked thoughtfully, and Billy growled into his arms, feeling his whole body warm.  He blamed it on the sun.  “Why,” his rescuer asked, pulling himself up to laugh against Billy’s ear.  “—you want me to follow you someplace?”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, laughing harder.  “Are you afraid to leave me alone now?  What if I try and eat my surfboard?”

“...are you gonna?” 

“Maybe?!” Billy told him, then pushed himself up, frowning around to look for it.

“I’ve got it, it’s right here,” the smug asshole told him, waggling the surfboard in the water.  “Want me to take you back to shore?”

“No!” Billy laughed, sighing.  “I’m going surfing, just because I nearly died making an ass of myself doesn’t mean—”

“Hrm, maybe I should keep an eye on you.” 

“Why,” Billy asked, then pitched his voice just a little lower.  “You like what you see?”

“I could get used to it,” the merman said, and Billy started to preen, but the dickhead finished with “—kind of a comedy special, kind of thing,” and Billy reached over and smacked a big splash of water at him.  

He laughed, his throat arching back, the gills along it thin dark lines that Billy fantasized kissing around.  

Just as Billy was considering grabbing the surfboard and using it as a weapon of blunt force trauma, the merman leaned in close, his smirk widening around pointed teeth, and his cool, salty lips pressed firmly against Billy’s.  Billy made a weird gulping noise in his throat, and the asshole started to pull away, but Billy leaned in, and fell clean off the rock.  His weight dunked them both, and they rose sputtering and laughing, Billy held securely in his merman’s arms as his surfboard floated away.  He couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“...my name’s Billy,” he panted.  

“...Steve,” the mer-dickhead said, raising his eyebrows, like it was weird to want to know his name.  

“...I inherited a house here,” Billy told him in a rush, drunk on kisses.  “I’m from California.  My mom used to talk about this place when I was a kid.  Surfing here.  With her mom.”

“...is she here?” Steve asked, steadying them with one hand on the rock, and glancing back at the beach.

Billy laughed, shaking his head.  “Fuck, sorry, you don’t need to know my shit.  We can make out.  You’re short-circuiting my brain.”

“...I should probably get your surfboard,” Steve told him, grinning, but he leaned his head in again, gentle with his sharp teeth, and Billy inhaled shakily as the points grazed his lips and tongue.  

“Jesus,” he whispered, once he could talk, and then he licked his lips and wrenched himself away to swim after his surfboard, just so his smug rescuer wouldn’t have to fetch it for him.  The waves got bigger as he got out to where the trees weren’t acting as a windbreak, and he clambered up on his board, glaring back as Steve wolf-whistled.

 When he let the tides pull him back towards the gorgeous merman on the rock, he lost his mind again, telling him his tail looked like a peacock butt, and Steve cracked up, grinning at him.

“...so, neighbor, you have to win someone over enough to invite you to stay,” he said, cocking his head.

“Yup,” Billy told him, pointing up at the house he’d inherited, built into the hill, the old grass vacation cottage blending in with the trees.  

“And your method is to tell me I look like bird ass,” Steve continued, and Billy grimaced, waving his hands.

“No!  No, I don’t—I know people have to get to know you.  Here.  I’ll…” he sighed.  “I’ll try for a few months and see what happens.  If nothing...clicks, maybe I’ll try again next summer,” he said, grimacing, and wondering what Max would do, if they weren’t allowed to stay.  Leave, maybe, he thought—she was seventeen, and she could get a job herself.

 He ended up teaching Steve to surf, after showing off his best efforts.  When he swam back, panting, Steve looked properly impressed, and even more tanned.  “Teach me,” he said, and Billy leaned in to kiss him again, nodding.  

“That gonna get you to like me enough to let me stay?” Billy asked, and Steve frowned at him, but Billy laughed, and leaned in for another kiss.

“Tomorrow?” Steve had whispered against his lips, and Billy got no sleep at all that night, he just rolled over every couple hours to check the clock, and see that another two minutes had passed.  

Steve was fascinating to watch on the board, his tail trailing as he controlled it with his hands around either side, his abs flexing as he held himself in a kind of plank pose with the support of his tail.  Billy watched, and realized he was drooling.  

“You like me enough to keep me?” he asked that night, teasing, and Steve laughed.  

“Ask me again tomorrow.”

 Merpeople—or at least, Steve, Billy corrected mentally, realizing he was dealing with a sample size of one—loved bread.  Like a cat, Billy thought, watching Steve eye his croissant, or bagel.  He started just bringing one every morning for Steve, and some coffee, and it was hilarious watching the fluffy flesh of a croissant dangling between Steve’s shark-like teeth.  He waited every morning, and even though Billy wasn’t sure whether Steve was waiting for Billy or the bread he was carrying, he got heart palpitations every time he came down the ramp to the dock, and he could see the little lump of Steve’s head on his folded arms, the rest of him hanging off into the water.

“A few bagels aren’t enough to win me over,” Steve told him, and Billy’s stomach twisted, a little.  He wished he hadn’t brought it up, kind of—the knowledge that he might have to leave hurt, like a sore tooth he couldn’t stop worrying at in his mouth.  “Maybe more croissants,” Steve said, smiling, and Billy brought him more croissants.

 When they’d arrived, they’d discovered the town was filled with mermaid stuff, and at first, Max and Billy had snickered at it, because surely even if there’d been a merperson or two living near a human town once, they’d died decades ago, or they just traded with fishing boats, far out at sea.  They hadn’t considered the amount of people in wheelchairs, or the spray bottles close to hand.

When Billy suggested he bring lunch down from town, Steve swam over to haul himself up—his tail flashing in the light—through the bottom of one of the little sheds on the dock.  Moments later, he banged the door open, wheeling out in an old rusty wheelchair.  He spun it in a circle, waiting for Billy to climb out of the water, and then zipped ahead up the ramp to the path.  

“Wait up, jesus,” Billy yelled after him, and Steve laughed, the muscles in his arms mesmerizing as they spun the wheels.  He slowed down eventually, panting, enough for Billy to jog and catch up.  “...lemme know if you want me to push,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted.  

“Touch my chair and die,” he said.  

“Fair enough,” Billy said, holding his hands up, and Steve laughed.  

“It makes me…” he squinted, thinking.  “...seasick…?” he offered, and Billy nodded, trotting along next to him.  

“Motion-sick, probably,” he suggested, and Steve mouthed it as he rolled along.  

 The lady at the shaved ice stand leaned out and folded her arms on the edge of the little window, laughing at Steve.  “You know they make those that work!” she called, and he flipped her off.  “They don’t have to be electric!  They make ‘em that just move smoothly.”

“It’ll just rust in my shed,” Steve told her, shrugging.  “It’s fine.”  As they waited for their tacos, Steve pulled up to a table, and his rusty, janky wheels kept rolling backwards, until Steve sighed and bent down to stuff some rocks under there.

“My friend Robin and I went in together on a nicer one,” he said, “—but I can’t park it in the shed.  This one’s not so bad,” and Billy’s perception of it shifted a bit—maybe it was more like getting stuck with an old beater car occasionally, instead of something Steve needed help with.  “...want to wander around, after?” Billy asked.  “I haven’t got any souvenirs yet.”

Steve paused, then licked his lips.  “Planning your trip home already?”

“...dunno yet,” Billy said, the invitation unspoken between them.  It seemed ridiculous to want to stay so badly just because he’d met a pair of gorgeously tanned shoulders and a teasing smile, but it also wasn’t...hard to imagine, lingering on the island to go snorkeling with Steve, and learning about the reefs—he’d absorbed enough for a few semesters of marine biology, he was fairly sure, but told as stories, just off-handed things Steve had seen—and Billy was already wanting a drysuit, so he could go in the fall.  Maybe Billy could get a job on a fishing boat, he thought vaguely, or help out in one of the shops.  

If Steve would invite him.

Steve had slid his hands under Billy’s swimsuit a few times, pressing him back on their rock, or on the docks, rocking into him as Billy panted and gasped and fell apart under his hands—but he never said anything, after, and Billy hesitated to ask whether it was...anything, to Steve.  Maybe he picks an idiot every summer, he thought, watching Steve smile at the depictions of mermaids on every surface of every shop on the main street.

“You all spend so much time keeping everything dry and dead,” he said, grinning over at Billy, who’d been anticipating a comment on the mermaid’s hourglass-like proportions, not her lack of water damage.  

“...oh,” he said.  

“I have a figurehead like that, but covered in anemones,” Steve said, cocking his head.  “It’s beautiful.”

“I mean...you could...plant a vine on it, maybe?”

Steve nodded.  “Put it outside in the rain, let it grow.”  The lady behind the counter sighed, rolling her eyes, and Steve laughed.  

“There’s a whole movement to ‘preserve’ our art,” he whispered to Billy.  “Which mostly means they don’t let it become our art.”

“Huh,” Billy said, wondering whether human houses looked like museums, or mausoleums, to merpeople.  

“Not to say that I’d pour water on your television set, or drop your mattress in the bay,” Steve said, grimacing a little, and watching Billy’s face.  “I get that much.”  He looked kind of uncomfortable with the lady behind the counter glaring at him, ducking his head.

Billy leaned to kiss him.  He nearly steadied himself on the chair, and then remembering it would roll, and just held his hands away.  Steve grinned up at him, particularly at his outstretched hands, and yanked Billy down on his not very much of a lap, hurriedly curling his tail up and around Billy’s waist as Billy threatened to slide down the smooth scales to the ground.  Billy threw his arms around Steve’s neck, wide-eyed, as Steve held the wheels firmly, keeping the chair from rolling backwards under the weight of two grown men.  

“Let’s go,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, breathing Steve’s sun-and-salt smell, and wondering whether it was okay to ask whether Steve would consider inviting him to stay—just until the next season, Billy thought, as the chair and Steve’s tail moved under him.  Until the next summer, when he could ask whether Steve wanted him to stay again, or whether he wanted Billy gone.

After staying a whole year, Billy thought he might not have it in him to ask whether Steve was tired of him yet, but the thought of waking every morning to run down to the docks with coffee and banana bread was addictive, and he tried not to think about the end.

 Billy ran into the lady who’d stamped his passport, and caught himself staring at her tanned legs propped up on the railing.  “Oh, I’m human,” she said, laughing.  “But I love it here.  I can even shop in the little bookstore, imagine,” she said, and now that Billy thought about it, he realized it had an elevator in the back, and little lifts for the walkways along the higher shelves.  “I’ve never had someone offer to lift me into their cafe, here,” she said, her nose wrinkled, and Billy nodded slowly.  

“Shoot that thing!” she yelled, when she saw Steve’s awful old wheelchair, and he flipped her off.

 “We can only invite a few people,” Steve told him, as they ate noodle bowls.  “It’s for somebody you marry, you know, their family, maybe.  Or if you leave the island, and have a kid.”

“Yeah,” Billy said softly, hearing the message clearly—invitations were not to be wasted, and Billy wasn’t special enough to keep.  He finished his lunch, trying not to feel all butthurt about it.  Max would probably understand.

Steve kissed him again, on the docks, and Billy leaned into it, feeling the familiar pressure of tears in his sinuses, and behind his eyes.  He had three weeks left, he told himself.  Three more weeks.  Steve slid a hand up the back of Billy’s head, humming against his mouth, and Billy let himself go soft in his arms.  

When they returned to the docks, Steve dug a big beach blanket out, and they spread it out on the sand, and Billy stayed out that night, losing himself in Steve’s warm hands and mouth, under stars like he’d never seen before.  

 Steve was watching his face the next morning, with a little frown, and Billy pulled away, sitting up.  

“Better than croissants?” Billy asked, smirking a little, and Steve sighed.  

“Was that what this was?  Fucking me won’t make me give you an invitation,” he said.  He didn’t look amused, the way he had over the bagels, and Billy wondered whether it had worked, a little.  Billy’d always had a talented mouth.

“I won’t know if I don’t try, will I,” he said, laughing.  “Maybe another round will help?”

“...I have to go,” Steve said, and he didn’t even fold up the blanket, just pushed himself off the edge and slid over the wet sand into the water, gone in a flip of tail.  Billy watched for long minutes to see whether he’d come back—they’d been spending every day together, but probably Steve had stuff he needed to do, all the things he’d done before Billy had shown up at the island, easy with his body and his affections.

Billy folded up the blanket, and sat it in the shed, looking around.  There really wasn’t much in there—it was the size of a small bathroom, with some knives for fishing, and a frayed net, and the beat-up wheelchair.  

It smelled like Steve, and Billy stood and breathed, his eyes blurring with tears.

 Steve didn’t come back, and after an hour or so Billy walked home, and ran into Max returning.  “Billy!” she said, with a wide grin.  “Nice night?  I was out getting breakfast.”  She told him about somebody named El, and somebody else named Lucas, and a Dustin.

Max was making friends too, he realized, which kind of made everything worse—she was doing her best, and Billy was just mooning over some guy who thought he was barely good enough for a fuck on the beach.  She’d even met their families, he realized, listening, and registered that he hadn’t met any of Steve’s friends.  He groaned into the pillows tossed around on the mat floor, and sighed.  

“Should I stop seeing him?” he asked, mostly at the ceiling.  

“I dunno why now,” Max said.  “You’re not gonna find somebody else in a couple weeks.”

“Shit,” Billy groaned again.  

“We can try again next summer,” Max said.  “I like it here.”

The idea of returning the next summer, once Steve was bored, was enough to make Billy clench his jaw tight against the pillow he was hugging, squeezing his eyes shut against tears.  “...yeah,” he said softly.

“God, you sound tragic,” she sighed, wandering over and dropping to sit on his butt.  He grunted.  “It’s fine, jesus.  Worst case scenario we have a, like, vacation home.  The vampire dude said we didn’t have to pay taxes on it.”

“Yeah, just pay for plane fare,” Billy sighed.

“He’s out there, y’know,” she said, “—tanning,” and Billy scrambled up so fast he dumped her with a drum noise on the taut mats.  

 When he swam out, Steve just stared out to sea, and Billy clung to the edge of the rock, biting his lips.

“I’m not giving you one of my invitations,” Steve said.  “So stop trying to manipulate me into it.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, kind of wishing they’d never met.  “Yeah, okay.  Do—is that all, or are you sticking around?”

“I’ll stay,” Steve said, frowning at him, “—if you still wanna waste your time on somebody who’s not—how do you say it?  Putting out?”

“...it’s not a waste of time,” Billy told him, swallowing hard.  “I just wanted it to last longer, is all—” and Steve’s eyes narrowed intently.  He grabbed Billy around the back of the neck, and yanked him into a kiss.  

 The remaining weeks, he took Billy snorkeling, and they had sex every night under the stars, Billy panting Steve’s name, and Steve holding him so tightly it almost hurt.  Billy took him to meet Max, and she eyed him warily, but Billy fought and succeeded at securing Steve a plate of brownies, and he was vocally appreciative.  She softened a little, at that.

 Two days before they had to leave, Steve was lying next to Billy on the wet sand, the waves lapping up nearly to their waists.  His shoulder was warm under Billy’s head, and smelled like the high ocean waves.  

“...d’you think you’ll come back next summer,” Steve asked, and Billy snorted.

“Depends on whether I can afford airfare,” he said, sighing.  “Depends on whether I can get a job somewhere that doesn’t need me in the summer.”

“...so I might just never see you again?” Steve asked flatly, and Billy laughed, shrugging.  

“I don’t know,” he said, “—do you want to?”

“...fuck you,” Steve sighed, and Billy pushed himself up to frown at Steve’s face.  

“I don’t know what you want,” he said, glaring back at Steve’s narrowed brown eyes.  “You wanted me to shut up about staying.  What am I supposed to say?”

Steve bit his lips together, and looked away.  “...you know I’m gonna give you an invitation.  You can just tell me.”

“What,” Billy whispered, scrambling to sit up, his heart pounding as Steve flopped over to scrabble around under his wheelchair, his tail flapping around a little in concentration, like a cat’s.  He held an envelope out to Billy without even looking over.

“There,” he said.  “All yours.”

“What,” Billy breathed, and then he half-crumpled it, opening it clumsily.  “You—you’re giving me one?”

“Two,” Steve said, flatly, frowning down at the sand under his hands.  “You and Max, right?”

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, scrambling over to kiss him, once, then twice, relishing the little noise Steve made in the back of his throat when his lip slid between Billy’s teeth.  “I have to go tell her,” he said, half laughing, his vision blurring with tears.  

“Okay,” Steve said, quietly, and Billy hugged him before scrambling up and running back to the house.  

 Max stared at the two calligraphed invitations on the odd plasticky “paper” the merfolk used, written in Sharpie, and shook her head slowly.  “You did it,” she said, and Billy laughed, nodding.  

“He wanted me to stay enough,” he said, wiping his eyes, and desperately wanting Max to offer to handle the paperwork, so he could run back and kiss Steve.

There was a knock on the door.  Max ran and opened it, and a short-haired woman wheeled in in a rainbow overall dress, and a small, fancy electric wheelchair, her tail the reds and oranges of a sunset.  Billy never quite stopped being envious of how pretty the merpeople were.

“Steve gave you his invites, didn’t he,” she said, and Max slid them around her back, her eyes narrowing.

“...yeah,” Billy said, warily.

“Give them back to him,” she ordered, glaring between them.  “He’s been saving those a long-ass time.  He’s got plans for those, and he doesn’t need guilt-tripping by a pair of manipulative orphans, jesus.”

“I didn’t guilt-trip him,” Billy said, feeling guilty, suddenly, and remembering Steve’s stiffness as he handed them over.  “I didn’t,” he said, less certainly.  “...he...he just likes me, he wants me to stay—”

“He’s known you three months, and you told him you fucked him to get someplace nice for your sister to live,” she said crisply.  “Give them back.”

“He’s not giving them back,” Max hissed, but she was staring at Billy in horror.

“I didn’t say that,” Billy said, waving his hands.  “I didn’t!  Not...exactly.”

“Fuck you,” the woman said, glaring.  “You pressured him.”

“Fuck,” Billy agreed, his eyes tearing up again.  “Lemme—lemme go talk to him.  Max, give—give ‘em here.”

“No,” she said, sounding choked, but he walked over and grabbed them, and hugged her.  

“We’ll figure it out,” he said under his breath, for her ears only, and ran back out.

 Steve was perched up on his rock again, and Billy grabbed his surfboard and sat on it to glide out, paddling with his hands.  The water was clear under him, his shadow passing over the anemones on the reef, and he watched the fish darting around, swallowing repeatedly.  

“Hey,” he said, when he got close enough, and Steve’s head jerked around, glowering warily.

“...you came back,” he said.

“...you want me to stay, right,” Billy said, cutting straight to the chase.  “You gave me these because you want me to stay.”  Steve frowned back at him, and Billy’s heart sank.  “Answer,” he said, his throat closing around the word.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” Steve said, reaching out, but he just grabbed Billy’s board before he could drift into the rip tide again.  “You wanted to stay.”  He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet Billy’s eyes.

“What do you want,” Billy asked again.  “...because I think your friend Robin’s in my house, and she says I guilted you into it, talking about Max.  Do you...if I didn’t need an invite.  Would you want me to stay?”

“...I guess,” Steve sighed, and Billy swung his leg over the board, dumping himself straight down in the water, because he was definitely about to make some kind of awful noise, and the sea felt good on his hot, wet cheeks.  Steve couldn’t see him crying underwater, he thought, grabbing a jut of rock to keep himself from floating back up.  

He wished he could take a few slow breaths, he thought, closing his eyes, and then something brushed his arm.  He opened his eyes on Steve’s wide-eyed face, his hair swirling in the water.  Billy bit his lips together harder, his hands clenching on the rock, and Steve shook his head, pointing up. 

“Up,” he mouthed.  “Come on.”

Billy let himself be hauled upwards, and pushed up on the rock again, like when they’d first met.  

“What are you doing,” Steve asked, hanging on to Billy’s surfboard.

“Nothing,” Billy said, keeping his voice level.  “I thought you wanted me to stay.  For me.  You can have your invites back.  I didn’t—” he took a deep breath, hearing Steve’s voice say stop trying to manipulate me, and Robin’s guilt-tripping.  “I fucking know I’m pathetic, okay, you don’t have to pity me.  Sorry I—sorry I fucking tried, jesus, I just—” he shut his eyes tightly again, laughing as he imagined Robin’s disgusted look knowing Billy’d gone out and cried.

“Wait, fuck,” Steve whispered, clambering up next to him, where Billy barely fit by himself, since it was high tide.  He was warm from the sun, his tanned skin gleaming with water droplets, and Billy salivated, because his dick obviously hadn’t gotten the message it wasn’t wanted.  “Wait,” Steve said, half on top of him, his weight grating Billy’s shoulder blades against the rock.  Billy didn’t really mind.  “You only want to stay if—if I want you, what—what does that mean—”  His brown eyes were huge.

“...don’t really know how to be clearer,” Billy told him, unable to pull his eyes from Steve’s mouth.

“You don’t want to stay unless I’m happy about it,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how it gets, when you fall for somebody,” Billy told him, raising his eyebrows, and Steve took a shuddery breath and kissed him again.  He didn’t stop, though, he just kissed Billy and kissed him, laughing shakily, his eyes welling up with tears.  

“Don’t go,” he whispered, as Billy clung to him and the rock, trying to keep them from tumbling off.  “I want you here, I want you.  Stay with me.”

“I’m what you want?” Billy asked, startled, his brain hazy from warm kisses, and the scrape of pointed teeth.  “‘M yours then,” he whispered.  “All—all of me.  S’yours.”

They laid there so long, whispering and giggling, that Billy had tan lines of Steve’s fingers on his shoulder for months.

Here are the other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done!

[kat3zy]

A Vacation to Cherish

When my mother was looking a hotel for vacation, Alta Vista De Boracay catches our hearts because of it’s panoramic view which is located in island of Boracay’s highest peaks. It was very relaxing  and comfortable to stay there with its modern and spacious rooms so we are planning to visit there again to unwind and enjoy the serenity of its paradise. We enjoyed day and night swimming in their pools because of its lovely view downhill at the back of the pool and its warm pool for the kids. Their buffet food was delicious and make us satisfied.

Boracay beach was one of the most beautiful beach here in the Philippines or even in the world because of its fine white sand, blue crystal clear water and the stunning view of the sunset. There are a lot of activities to do there like surfing, paraw sailing, banana boat ride and so much more. It’s our first time to try surfing which was difficult at first but when you learned how to balanced yourself  in the surfboard you will enjoy it. As a kid we loved playing sands, molding sand, and building castle’s so I had fun together with my cousin and my sibling’s and we also enjoy swimming in the blue crystal clear water of Boracay. The Boracay’s Grotto is known as a recognizable landmark in Boracay so we didn’t miss the chance to have pictures there.

After a vacation in Boracay we also went to Negros Occidental, the province of my mother. That was an opportunity to visit again the Campuestohan Highland Resort with it’s beautiful scenery surrounded by the mountains and adventurous attractions were always excited to come there. It has so many swimming pools you can choose like Shark wave pool, foam pool, river pools and kiddie pools with fantastic colorful slides. The Shark Wave is my favorite pool because I really enjoy the waves together with my relatives. The slide’s where fun too, they also have a lot of activities to enjoy which was challenging and adventurous like zipline, rope course, sky bicycle and so much more. But unfortunately the kids are not allowed to do that adventurous experience. 

There are so many attractions here in Campouestohan like life-size replicas of superheroes, animals, dinosaur’s and celebrities you can take a photo. If you want to overnight in Campuestohan, there are different log cabins and rooms for you to stay in, such as Bonita Huts, Tee Pee Huts, King Kong Room and etc. We chose Bonita Hut because of it’s cute and unique design. We also walk at the hanging bridge and enjoy the panoramic view. They allowed there guests to bring there own foods and drinks but they also have a restaurant in which you can chose a variety of food that taste good.

After Campuestohan Highland Resort, my family visited The Ruins one of the most romantic place in the Philippines, the structure and design of its house was amazing, even how many decades has past the structure of the mansion was still in a good condition. The Ruins is a historical mansion in Talisay, Negros Occidental that owned by  the family of Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson and Maria Braga Lacson. The mansion was built in early 1900s in the memory of his Portuguese wife Maria Braga Lacson who died during the birth of their eleventh child. I am so grateful and thankful to my family to have those opportunity and experiences to travel. And praise God for guiding and protecting us along our way. Our heart’s are full of joy and meaningful memories in those journey.

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Sky above, sand below, peace within. (Vinikki)

A/N: Thank you so much to @arnold-layne​ who helped me writing this fic in a correct way ! ( and let’s be real it probably would have sucked withouth her).

Inspired by this :

Nikki closed his eyes, enjoying the sea breeze.

Between the new album and his not-so-normal daily life, he found himself really on a verge of a nervous breakdown. The same could be said for the rest of the band, so when Vince decided to take a week off, nobody argued.

Mick was back home to visit his sons and his wife, Tommy went to visit some friends and parties and Vince decided to take Nikki to Malibu to relax and be alone. Vince and him have only been together for a couple of months, but these months were the best ones in his entire life. Unfortunately, they didn’t have many opportunities to be a “normal couple”: secret kisses before going on stage or during rehearsals, hidden hand squeezes between interviews and quick fucks in the nightclubs’ bathroom were not enough for them, so this holiday seemed like a gift from God or whoever was up there.

“What are you thinking, beautiful?” Vince asked, and when Nikki lifted his gaze he stopped for a moment: the singer’s blonde locks were illuminated by the sun, making him even more beautiful than he already was.

“How I’m lucky to have such a wonderful and hot boyfriend,” he said, letting his sweet side show, one that was usually hidden if they were not alone. “And also how it’s beautiful to be here,” Nikki said, resting his head on Vince’s shoulder. The singer kissed him on the cheek.

“I missed being in California. I used to surf here when I was a teen” Vince said, looking in the distance at the sea.

“So you’re really a Malibu Barbie after all, uh” Nikki remarked, smirking. The blonde glared at him with a deadly look before pushing him into the sand.

“Jeez, I was kidding, babe. I don’t know if I could picture you as a surfer, you’d probably be too worried to ruin your hair, but also you would look pretty hot doing it.”

“Well, luckily, I brought my surfboard so let’s find out!” Vince said, totally aware that he would made Nikki’s jaw drop at the sight. Nikki pulled him by his wrist and kissed him before letting him go.

“I think it’d be fair if we were both in our swimsuits” the singer added, and Nikki simply undressed, revealing his black boxers.

“Oh Vince, I thought that you would get wet after surfing!” The bassist  said, smirking.

“Oh fuck off, the last one to arrive at the beach has to hold the other’s hair while he’s puking” Vince said, running towards the sea with his surfboard.

Vince arrived last but he didn’t care: seeing his boyfriend so happy and free filled his heart with joy. He usually was not the sentimental type, but with Nikki it was difficult to not want to scream out all of his love right in front of him. He positioned himself on the board and hoped his muscle memory would help.

On the other hand Nikki sat on the shore looking at his Vince surfing really smoothly. He found himself spaced out again, thinking about how lucky he was and how many things they could do during that week: watching the stars, midnight swim, a romantic picnic, maybe even sex on the beach; he tried as hard as he could to push aside all the bad thoughts and enjoy a much deserved time with the love of his life. Too busy imagining stuff, Nikki didn’t realize that the water had hit him until he was already wet and cold, right in front of him stood Vince, a huge grin on his face.

Nikki didn’t think twice and grabbed him, making him fall into the water; soon after Vince grabbed his legs making him fall down too. They wrestled for a bit, trying to tickle each others or being general idiots before they noticed the sun setting.

“We should see it, it’s beautiful,” Nikki said, trying to stand up, but a big wave made him crush on top of Vince. The blond man didn’t think twice and started to kiss him.

“I’m looking at something even better,” he replied, and Nikki swore to God that if he was blushing, Vince would be dead.

“God, you’re so cheesy. C’mon, I want to see it”.

The boys returned to sit on the beach, this time Vince in Nikki’s arms, while the dark-haired man brushed his locks; it was such a nice view that Nikki felt happiness, maybe for the first time in a long time. Vince lifted his head to look at him and then smiled.God, how much Nikki loved that smile! The singer always had that charming smile, the one he would use to get all the ladies at his feet, but this one was different:: it was pure and full of love. That was the real smile of the real Vince Neil, not the cocky playboy singer but the sweet and caring boyfriend.

“Could we eat dinner here?” Nikki asked, pleading. God, since when had he become that soft?

“Yes,honey, but we have to shower first”.

The house they rented was not as big as their houses in LA but that didn’t matter. They decided to shower together and soon enough they started to throw foam at each other. Nikki always hated being too cheesy and letting himself go in a relationship but with Vince it was different, with Vince he could be a five-year-old who throws foam in the shower. Vince also found it so weird to actually care and want to say “I love you” as many times as he could, like he was doing at the moment; and, honestly, the singer was also surprised that Nikki could literally annoy him in every way but he’d still want to kiss him.

“We should go, I’m fucking starving!” Nikki said, grabbing the pre-made dinner and the picnic blanket.

“I’m not the one who started a foam war earlier,” the singer replied dramatically.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna miss the stars!” the bassist said, pulling the blond by the wrist. Then he started running, dragging the singer along.

When they arrived at the beach again, Nikki wasted no time in preparing everything. Vince thought he looked like a hyperactive child, but he loved it. He was aware of Nikki’s shitty childhood, and he was certainly not going to be a kill-joy.

“What?” the older man said, having noticed his boyfriend looking at him.

“You’re so cute!” Vince said, smiling.

“No, I’m not!” Nikki replied.

“What, are you scared that you are not going to be badass anymore if somebody finds out that you are soft?” the singer said, teasing him.

“I’m not cute!” he replied, trying to sound intimidating.

“Whatever you say, cutie. Now let’s eat, shall we?”

They couldn’t stop being idiots even while they were eating, with Vince constantly annoying Nikki and the other man trying to hide his smile and to look pissed off.

“Shit, man, they’re beautiful!”

“What?” Vince asked, a bit confused.

“The stars, dude. They are awesome!” the bassist replied, smiling.

“Maybe we should make a wish,” the younger man suggested.

“Wait, aren’t wishes only for shooting stars?” Nikki said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“We are Motley Crue, so we make the fucking rules! And I tell you to make a wish,” the singer announced proudly.

The older man started to think about his wish. In that moment it seemed like he had anything he could ever ask for: a beautiful boyfriend, a peaceful beach, and a much needed rest. He was really happy for once in his life, so what could he ever want more?

“I have everything here with me,” the bassist replied, looking Vince in the eyes.

“Urgh, you are a sappy bastard!” Vince said, smiling and then kissing Nikki gently. “But also, I love you too much to pretend I don’t like your sweet talk!”

“I love you too, Vince. And I’ll say it to you whenever I can,” the black-haired man added, yawning.

“Maybe it’s better if we return home, Mr Sixx.”

“Oh no, I just wanted to have sex on this beautiful beach!” Nikki teased.

“We have a whole week for that, hon.” Vince replied with his usual smirk and picked up the bassist bridal style.

“Wait, who are you? What have you done to my sex-addicted boyfriend?”

The younger man simply rolled his eyes and kept going towards their house. As soon as they touched the bed, Nikki yawned and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Then Vince simply undressed his boyfriend and himself before covering them both with soft sheets.

“Thank you so much.” Nikki replied softly, then he closed his eyes and he started snoring softly.

Vince followed him shortly after, a huge smile on his face when the older man nuzzled his neck.

Taglist: @malibubarbievince​ @themissloveeverything​ @slashscowboyboots​ @livingbreathingrocknroll​ @boraxisme​

[ikaris-whore]

The Sea Cures All

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Prompt: Post-endgame, civilian!Bucky accidentally gets dragged into a dangerous situation and does his best to remain anonymous, leaving Reader to take the lead.

This is for my HBC Summer Meet Cute Partner @beckzorz! I hope you like it. 😬 Surfing Bucky has been something I have wanted to see for a while, so here we goooo.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky slipped his rash guard over his head and his gloves on his hands before walking out the back of the house he was staying at along the beach of the North Shore. The sun was just rising as he padded across the back deck, and down the stairs while eating a particularly fresh pineapple. His toes hit the cool soft grains of sand, he looked out at the mighty blue sea as he heard the waves lapping up against the shore. Taking a deep breath, he could smell the salt in the air. He had learned in his days since he landed on the island that what everyone told him about the sea was true; it not only healed cuts with salt (not that he needed help with that) but triggered a state of calm and contentment in him. It made him focus only on the present, like his past was washed away as he stood there immersed in the moment. He really needed this after fighting Thanos twice and being snapped for what was apparently five years.

After finishing his morning snack he gathered his hair into a bun as to not get in his way, took his longboard from its place on the side of the deck and started to prep it. Laying it in the sand, digging a hole for his fin to rest safely in, he pulled his pink surf wax out of its container and was assaulted with the sweet tropical smell. He started to work the wax lengthwise, then crosswise creating a crosshatch pattern of wax forming the small bumps he needed in order to keep his traction on the board.

He was doing a once over of his work when the adorable lifeguard showed up for her shift giving him a wave and a smile as she walked past. She had caught his eye the other day, he thought it was endearing the way she distracted the kid, stung by a jelly fish, with her own story about a sea turtle coming up on shore. She called him Crush and they did a handshake when she was all done taking care of him “Fin. Noggin. Duuuude.”

Pleased with his work, he placed his wax back in its container, brushed off his hands, made sure his metal arm was still hidden from view and picked up his board under his arm and walked in to the ocean, hopped on board and paddled out as the smaller waves came at him pushing up on the board to allow the white foam of water to pass between him and his board. He finally reached where he wanted to and assessed the waves as they came in sets and lulls, a steady rhythm as he rocked up and down sitting on his board.

He finally spotted a good wave coming his way, he leaned back on his board and used his legs to turn himself to face the shore. He swiftly laid himself even with the board and used his arms to propel himself forward. Feeling the board being pushed up from behind him by the wave he paddled a few more times a popped himself up into position. He caught the wave no problem and rode it straight into shore. He repeated this process for several hours. As the day went on the waves got bigger and Bucky got braver. He was overly confident, which caused him to miscalculate and he was thrown off his board as the wave he was riding closed in on him.

He was at the mercy of the ocean. He could feel himself being tossed around as the wave curled in on him. He felt a sting on his head as the mighty ocean continued to thrust him into something hard and sharp. Was it coral? A rock? His board? No. not his board, he thought he could still feel the slight tug of it on the leash attached to his ankle. He didn’t have time to think, he just needed to get to the surface. He started reaching around for air, anywhere, he just needed to find daylight and bring himself to the top.

-------------------------------------------------------

You were admiring the new surfer from a far as he continued his runs. But then he went under and was taking a while to come up, you could see his board bobbing up and down in the water but he was nowhere in sight.

You jumped up from your stand and grabbed your orange rescue can, blowing your whistle in three short blasts over and over to warn the other lifeguards as you ran towards the water. You jumped in, never taking your eyes off his position, his board still bobbing with the waves. You made it to his board, grabbed the leash and tugged on it. He was still attached, that’s good. You used the leash as a guide to find him, his head popped up, gasping for air just as you were about to dive down to grab him. Following your training you identified yourself “Hello sir, my name is (y/n) I am here to assist you. Do you need help?”

His head whipped around at the sound of your voice, you saw him wince and could see the red liquid making its way between his furrowed brows from his scalp. “Ummm. Uhh.” he stammered. “Do you need my help?” you repeated. Bucky knew he would heal fast, but a civilian would need assistance, he was still trying to blend in, stay anonymous. You stayed close to him as he grabbed a hold of his surfboard to catch his breath. Still no answer.

“I would really like to check you out at the stand if you would let me. Looks like you got quite a cut there on your head, and who knows where else.” You stated as your cheeks turned slightly pink at the mention of you checking him out. Who are you? Pull it together.

His demeanor seemed to change at that, “Uh… sure.” was that a smirk trying to crawl across his face? “I suppose it won’t hurt to get the ole wounds checked.”

“Think you can make it to shore? Hop on your board and I’ll pull you in.”

He did as you said, even though he felt perfectly fine, and helped you by paddling as you pulled him behind you. You both walked up the beach and you invited him to sit at the stand so you could give his injuries a look. First you started on his head after asking him to take his hair down. Your suspicion was right, he hit some coral in his tumble and from the looks of it he shouldn’t have been conscious. It was in there good. You started to remove the pieces of coral you could find and distracted him with questions while you did.  

“Sooo what’s your name?” he replied curtly “James.” Okay, he is going to be a tough cookie to crack.

“You’re not from around here?” he nodded in answer, “So where are you visiting from?”

“New York.”

“You’re a pretty good surfer aside from your little tumble you had. How long you been doing it?” you washed his head wound out, brushing your fingers through his hair. He had a delightful look on his face as you did.

“About a week. Had a lesson or two with a local surf instructor, I pick things up fast.” You stood there mouth agape, nobody you ever met has been that good that fast. “What? Like its hard?” he snarked obviously in reply to the shock on your face as you knelt next to him to remove the coral you saw in his thigh as you both came out of the water.

“What other skills have you acquired this week?” He winced slightly as you dug a little too hard at his leg. “Sorry, this one is deep in there.”

“It’s okay. Doesn’t hurt too bad. Let’s see here I’ve done some scuba diving, paddle boarding, and lots of hiking.”

“Hiking!” Your ears perked up at that as you washed out his wound on his leg. “Where have you gone? Stairway to Heaven yet?” It was a favorite of yours, although illegal.

“It’s on my list. I was actually thinking of going tomorrow.” 

“Make sure you go up the legal way and walk down the stairs, less likely to get in trouble that way.”

“I’m not too worried about that.” He said with confidence, a fine would be worth it to see that view. “But I would love a guide.” His voice cracked nervously on the last words.

Was this his way of asking you out? “Just so happens I am off tomorrow; I can show you the way myself.” You applied some ointment to his wounds and gave him a once over, gave him a curt nod and a pat on the shoulder. “All done, soldier”

“Meet me at my house tomorrow morning? You can lead the way.” He pointed to where he was applying his wax earlier.

“Sounds like a plan, Bucky.” You winked. You had seen the glimmer of his arm when his sleeve crept up his arm as you were rescuing him but finally put it together.

[icyharrington]

Promises (Jim Mason X Reader)

y’all wanted a smutty/angsty/fluffy jim mason x reader, so i had to deliver;) my first fic for the tribes of palos verdes!

plot: you don’t fit in with jim’s friend group. jim doesn’t fit in anywhere. but maybe, you can find solace in each other. 

warnings: angst, slight violence?, fluff, smut, sexual intercourse, teenage sex, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of drug abuse

word count: 3.9k

The air was cold and smelled of sea foam and cigarettes; you shivered, pulling your boyfriend’s oversized sweatshirt tighter around your shoulders as you nestled yourself against him. The sky was black, but from the flickering yellow light of the bonfire, you could see that he was looking at you, a soft smile apparent across his gentle features. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him, bringing his lips close to your ear.

“Are you ready to go soon?” Jim asked you, voice muffled slightly by the sounds of teenagers talking amongst themselves and waves crashing against the shore. 

You shrugged. Truthfully, you wanted nothing more than to leave- you craved the smell of Jim’s sheets, the taste of seawater on his lips as you kissed him lazily in the darkness of his bedroom. You hated these types of social gatherings, and the only reason you even attended them at all was because you were dating Jim.  

“I’m ready to go whenever you are,” you murmured, accepting the joint that he’d brought from his lips and passed over to you. You took a small inhale, stifling a cough in fear that his friends would overhear and tease you, and passed it back to him, a pained expression on your face as you felt the harsh smoke burn your throat. 

He looked over at his friends, their voices boisterous and loud, eyes glossy with intoxication. He sighed, his mouth pressing into a thin line as he surveyed them, and you could tell that he didn’t want to leave, not really. He socialized so naturally, which you’d always envied, and he always craved the company of others. You understood this, but your heart still sank a little in your chest.

“You don’t have to leave, Jim,” you said. “If you don’t want to.” You avoided his gaze, instead focusing on the way the burning end of his joint glowed bright orange as he inhaled. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, little curls of smoke escaping his nose as he spoke. “I’d rather be alone with you.”

You wanted to believe it, but sometimes you worried- worried that he cared far more about gaining his friend’s approval than your relationship, or that he’d drop you once someone prettier or skinnier came along. Deep down, you knew it was ridiculous, and that Jim adored you, but it was hard to push those feelings aside sometimes when you saw the people he hung out with.

None of them had ever seemed to like you much, despite Jim’s constant insisting of ‘of course they like you, how could anyone not like you?’, and perhaps for good reason: you didn’t fit in with them at all. You didn’t surf, though you loved watching Jim and the way he’d beam with excitement as he rode each shimmering wave; you hadn’t taken too much of a liking to drinking or drugs, though you’d smoke a joint every now and again when the mood would strike; you were shy and reserved, and preferred to keep to yourself. In some ways, it seemed like a shock that you and Jim had even ended up together. 

But you had, and that was all that mattered. That’s what you continuously told yourself whenever you grew concerned, which was quite frequently due to your stupid teenage girl insecurities. Just chill out, you thought to yourself, shutting your eyes and taking in the warmth of the bonfire. 

You yawned, huddling yourself closer to your boyfriend, his strong arm still draped around you protectively. He put out his joint on the log that you both sat on, before absently flicking the remaining ash towards the ocean. 

“Yo, guys,” he announced, and you winced as the group simultaneously looked over in your direction. “We’re gonna head out.”

“Seriously, dude?” slurred a blond-haired boy, the name of whom you hadn’t bothered to learn. “What time is it? Like, eleven? Since when were you such a grandpa?”

A few other drunk kids chuckled, and Jim rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You guys don’t ever get tired?”

“You never used to get tired before you started dating that wet blanket.” The guy who’d spoken was different from the first, and was clearly the most far gone in terms of drugs and alcohol. Still, his words jarred you, and you jerked your head upwards to look at who’d spoken.

More laughter. You turned to look at Jim, who was frowning now. “Hey, not cool, man,” he said defensively, trailing his fingers up and down your arm in an act you assumed was meant to be comforting. “Just because (y/n) isn’t into the same shit as you guys doesn’t mean she’s a wet blanket.”

“Remember that time you jumped on the window of that guy’s car while he was driving?” said a girl, hand entwined with the first boy who’d spoken. “You used to be fun. Now you just sit there and whisper shit to each other. It’s lame, dude.”

You shrugged off Jim’s arm and stood up, gathering your messenger bag off the ground and brushing away the sand. “Whatever. If you guys hate me so much, I’ll just leave you alone,” you muttered.

“Do everyone a favor and leave Jim alone, too,” said the same girl, grinning to herself at her own cruel joke as you walked around the bonfire. “I mean, the only reason he’s even with you is because he heard you put out. Everyone knows that.”

Your skin flushed, hot tears prickling behind your eyes. The feeling only worsened when you realized that the entire group was giggling in agreement, and you hardly noticed when Jim jumped to his feet behind you. “I don’t understand why you’re all being like this,” you said quietly, tasting copper on the back of your tongue.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jim demanded, but his voice sounded like nothing more than static as you processed what was going on. They were all drunk, so you knew you shouldn’t take their comments too seriously, but what about that corny saying, “drunk words are sober thoughts?” It was clear what they all thought of you, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, it fucking hurt.

“My problem? What’s your problem? You’re the one dating a girl who’s sucked off half the guys in our grade,” the girl laughed. “Is it worth it? Leaving every party early to go get your dick sucked? She must be really good.”

You gaped, and the next thing you knew, your palm had made sharp contact with the side of her slender face. She stood there for a second, stunned, before erupting into a slew of fake tears, falling into her boyfriend as her chest shook with sobs.

“Your girlfriend is out of fucking control, dude,” said the girl’s boyfriend to Jim, but you could tell his lips were curved upwards in a smirk- he was pleased to see this happen, to paint you as the villain, to laugh about your instability with his friends. Your hand stung from the force of the slap, and you were all but speechless.

“Well, how the fuck else was she supposed to react?” Jim shouted. “Your girlfriend was saying horrible shit to her!”

You took in a breath. “All of you need to go to therapy. You’re all so fucking mean to anyone who doesn’t fit into your idea of perfect.”

One guy snickered at you, his mouth turned into a sneer. “That’s really rich coming from the nympho slut.”

Jim pushed past you to reach the boy who was speaking, forcefully shoving his chest and sending him stumbling backwards. “I’m warning you, dude.”

“You know, him and (y/n) should both go into therapy, now that I think about it. Didn’t he almost overdose, like, three times?” This had come from the original boy who’d spoken, and he followed his statement up with a sloppy swig of vodka straight from the bottle.

Thud. Without a second thought, you punched him, knocking the bottle from his hand and staining the sand with dark spots as the clear liquid sloshed out. The boy fell backwards into the sand, hand clutched to his face as he looked up at you with widened eyes. You didn’t feel guilty- it was one thing to make fun of someone’s sexual history, whether true or not, but it was something completely different to mock a person’s struggle with drugs.

“Come on,” you said to Jim, taking him by the hand and tugging him behind you. Tears had begun to make their way down your cheeks, and you preferred that they didn’t see that.

You hurried to your car, which was parked somewhat of a walk from the beach. For your sixteenth birthday, your parents had gifted you with an old, used car; it was your prized possession, and was completely littered with artifacts of your relationship with Jim: wrappers from late-night fast food runs, cracked CD cases with notes scrawled across them in black Sharpie, a little surfboard-shaped air freshener that he’d picked up in a novelty souvenir shop.

You entered the car and exhaled; everything was so much calmer when it was just you and Jim. He seemed somewhat shaken up, one hand nervously running through his dirty blond hair as he looked at you. “You know, you didn’t have to punch him. I could’ve fucked him up myself.”

“I know you could have,” you said, immediately feeling a blast of cool air as you turned the key in ignition. “I didn’t want you to.”

You started driving in the direction of Jim’s house, using one hand to wipe away your tears, and you heard him curse softly under his breath. “Can we not go to my house? I- I really can’t deal with being there right now.”

You nodded, drumming your fingers on your steering wheel as you considered your next option. You couldn’t very well go back to your house, considering that your parents would have a conniption should they witness you bringing a teenage boy into your room. “Where should we go, then?”

“Let’s go down by the rocks where I surf,” he said, and you cocked an eyebrow; that didn’t sound like the best idea to you, especially considering that you’d just punched one of the territorial surfers who’d claimed that area. You decided he knew best, though, and drove alongside the shore for several minutes before reaching Jim’s designated surfing spot. Pulling over, you turned to your boyfriend.

“You sure they won’t find us here?” In all honesty, you were more concerned for Jim’s safety than your own.

He shook his head. “They won’t come here. I promise.”

You opened the car door and stepped out into the empty road, after retrieving the large checked blanket you always kept folded up in your back seat. The air smelled fresh, calming, and from where you stood, the sea looked like nothing more than a massive expanse of blackness. You imagined diving inside, swimming down to the very bottom. Jim made his way to your side of the car and took your hand, guiding you towards the railing he’d climbed over a hundred times before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve to hear those things they were saying,” he said, breaking the short bout of comfortable silence you’d been sharing. He let go of your hand to balance himself as he stepped over the metal barricade between the beach and the sidewalk, gesturing for you to do the same.

“It’s okay. They’re really fucked up. It’s not a big deal.” You were lying, of course. Their words had only verified the things you’d been worrying about for so long, but you didn’t want him to feel responsible. “What they said about you was worse, anyway.”

Your sneakers crunched against the sand, and again your hand connected with Jim’s as you began to maneuver your way down the rocky hill. “I don’t care about that. They can say what they want about me.”

His eyes flickered over the expansive ocean and you felt your heart swell for a reason you couldn’t place. God, you fucking loved him. You were so proud of him for managing to overcome the things that he had; for months you’d watched him decline, feeling so helpless as he stumbled aimlessly through life. All you could do for him was offer support and a shoulder to cry on, but sometimes it had felt like nothing would ever be enough. You were glad he had Medina- you weren’t sure if he’d have been able to improve had he been forced to fend for himself in that chaotic house.

“I care, though,” you said, surprising yourself when you realized you were choked up. “You’re so amazing, Jim, and they don’t realize it. They never have.”

“Well, fuck them,” he said, stopping when he found a smooth spot to set up your blanket. You unfolded it and handed him one side, laughing slightly at the way the wind made the task so much more difficult. Once you’d both managed to set the blanket down, you toed off your sneakers and settled down next to each other.

You looked out to the sea and sighed wistfully, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. How could a place so fucking beautiful be home to such ugly people? You placed your chin down against the torn denim covering your knees, entranced by the melodic crashing of waves against the rocks.

“You know none of that shit is true, right?” he said. You didn’t look at him. “Like, the stuff about me only dating you because I heard... well, you know.”

“Is that really what people say about me?” you asked, genuinely curious. You’d dated a couple of boys over the past few years, but you certainly wouldn’t have considered yourself promiscuous.

“I never heard anyone say that,” he said. “I mean, until tonight. But you believe me, don’t you?”

You snorted. Of course you believed him; that hadn’t been a question. Jim wasn’t the type of person to date a girl because of stupid high school rumors about her sex life; he’d been insanely respectful to your boundaries throughout your relationship. You knew that his friends had only made those claims to hurt you.

“Of course I believe you, Jim. That was never even a question.” He breathed a dramatic sigh of relief, and you smiled.

“I just wish I’d said more to defend you. Sometimes I just- I don’t know. I freeze up in front of them, you know? I get scared to say what I really mean.” He was looking over his shoulder, idly running his fingers through the sand.

“You don’t have to be their friend, Jim. I know it seems so fucking important to be accepted, especially in this shithole of a town, but you’re so much better than they are,” you said earnestly. From an undisclosed locations, a gaggle of crickets hummed softly as compensation for any periodic silences. The silence was never awkward, though; not with Jim.

He turned to you, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of his sweater. He met your gaze, his hooded eyes sunken from the effects of the joint. “Sometimes it feels like you and Medina are the only people I have.”

“Sometimes all you need to stay sane is a couple of really good people,” you said, leaning in to close the gap between you. You met his lips gently at first, easing slowly into the kiss before parting your mouth and allowing Jim to run his tongue alongside yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, heart fluttering like it was the very first time you’d kissed; he lunged into you, overtaking you as he cupped your face with both hands.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered against your lips, moving his mouth to your neck and planting soft kisses along the side. You laid back, allowing him to lie beside you, his upper body pressed against yours as you rubbed circles lovingly over his back.

“Yes, you do,” you breathed, turning partly onto your side to kiss him again. He was eager, his large hands wandering over your body as he attempted to touch every part of you. “You deserve the world.”

With a grunt, he pulled himself fully on top of you, and you parted your thighs to fit his hips between them. He paused, holding himself up with one hand as he brushed away a strand of (h/c) hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He said it so sternly, it almost felt like a crime not to believe him.

You craned your neck to kiss him again, craving him. You loved kissing him, maybe even more than having sex with him- you remembered the early days of your relationship, when you’d park your car in some secluded parking lot and make out in the back seat for hours on end. You’d go home feeling so satisfied, blushing as you stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep as the events of the night replayed themselves over and over in your mind. You were so far gone with this boy, you could hardly believe it.

He sucked on the sensitive skin below your ear, and you purred, impatiently reaching between his legs and gripping at the growing bulge through his jeans. He moved his lips up to your ear, grazing the skin. “You wanna do this right here?”

You panted, unable to offer much more than a nod as you worked off his belt, needy in the hastiness of your actions. You sucked roughly on the skin beside his Adam’s apple, hard enough that he’d probably have a mark tomorrow, your fingers swiftly undoing the button and zipper on his pants.

He lifted himself to his knees, breaking contact, and you whined at the lack of warmth from his skin; he looked down at you excitedly as he pulled off his pants, leaving him only in his navy blue boxers. You took this opportunity to unclothe yourself, working off your distressed jeans and discarding them in the sand. Underneath you wore a pair of childish pink underwear patterned with red hearts, but you hardly cared what Jim might think of them. 

“You’re not worried about getting caught?” you asked him coyly, raising an eyebrow as he crawled back between your legs. His lips met yours hungrily, his hard length rubbing against your crotch through the fabric of his underwear. You squirmed, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your pelvis upwards, hoping to increase the friction.

“If we get caught, we get caught,” he whispered, slipping his hands underneath your t-shirt and palming your breasts over your bra. “If anyone witnesses this, they’ll be blessed with the sight of my bare ass.”

You let out a sound that sounded like a half-moan, half-laugh, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and tugging restlessly. He seemed to get the hint, pulling his hands from beneath your shirt and instead wiggling out of his boxers. Then he moved on to your undergarments, quickly pulling down the fabric and leaving you bare from the waist-down. 

“You got any condoms in here?” you asked him, pointing to the denim jacket he’d lent to you earlier in the night, which you still were wearing to block out the slight nighttime chill. He opened one side, locating an inner pocket, and seconds later presented you with a condom, hardly subtle in a bright yellow shade.

“Always prepared,” he grinned, opening the package and rolling the condom onto his hard-on as rapidly as he could manage. He braced himself, placing one hand beside you and the other on his shaft, shifting so the head of his cock was lined up with your entrance. You tensed in anticipation, goosebumps spreading over your body, and let out a soft whimper as he entered you.

He shut his eyes, enjoying the way your warmth felt wrapped around him; he rocked his hips slightly and you lifted your arm to place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down towards you in a passionate kiss. 

“I need you, Jim,” you said before biting his bottom lip, a move you knew he loved. He grunted as he decided on a thrust rhythm, forceful but not too fast. Each time he fully entered you, you bucked your hips upwards and held him closer to you, desperate to feel as much of him as you could. You were so wrapped up in Jim that you almost completely forgot where you were- in public, on a beach, in the middle of the night. Anyone could come upon the two of you at any moment, but somehow that fact only excited you more.

You moved your hands to his hips, running your fingernails over his ass and urging him to impale you further. “H-harder, Jim,” you whispered, and he complied. You both let out a unanimous moan as he lifted his hips high into the air, pounding back down into you. You almost cried out when he did it again, and he opened his eyes suddenly to study your face.

“Are you all right?” he asked you sweetly, and you bobbed your head up and down, unable to formulate too many words.

“More,” was all you could muster. He licked his lips, forehead glowing as he’d begun to work up a sweat, entering you vigorously with pointed, hard thrusts. You threw your head back, expletives strung together with his name pouring from your lips. “God, Jim, yes.”

Of all the boys you’d been with, Jim was the only one who knew how to make you feel good; he always put your pleasure before his own. You’d heard horror stories from other teenage girls- tales of girls who’d been with their boyfriends for years, but had never orgasmed, not even once. Jim was different than all those other hormone-frenzied teenage boys, though, and you couldn’t be more thankful.

You felt your walls clench around him, and you dug your nails harshly into the skin above his ass. His thrusts had begun to lose their original rhythm, so you knew he, too, was close. You gasped, feeling the white-hot coil unwinding in the pit of your stomach, your problems and worries and stupid insecurities melting away. Nothing mattered, nothing at all, except you and Jim. It was the two of you against the world.

“I-I’m,” you tried, but the orgasm came before you could finish the sentence. You heard him curse under his breath, his body shaking violently above you as you felt the waves of pleasure coursing through your body, traveling from your stomach to your legs to your toes. 

He pulled out of you, and slowly the world came back into focus; you breathed in the smell of the sea while you took in the sight of the thousands of twinkling stars above you. He studied your face, his pale blue eyes seeming to observe every minute detail, lips curved slightly upwards. 

“I love you,” he said. “So much.”

Your heart felt full. You reached up to run your fingers through his moist hair, which wasn’t remarkably soft from the hundreds of times it had been doused in gritty sea water. Still, you loved the way it felt, threaded through your fingers. 

“I love you too,” you said, hugging him, greedily breathing in his scent as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. And you really did. You really fucking loved him. 

Feeling his strong body against you, you thought to yourself:

As long as the waves crash against the shore, I will never let you go.

[homeinteriorideaz]

Easy to Create Beach-Themed Living Room

What child doesn’t love to play at the beach? If your kid loves to frolic in the surf and sand, then why restrict his or her fun to just those scant few summery days you and the family can get yourselves down to the nearest shore? Why not transform your children’s bedroom into a beach front fantasy that they can enjoy every day of their lives.

A beach themed living room is easy to create. Paint the ceiling bright sky blue, maybe dotted with billowy white clouds, and lit by a big, bold lighting fixture that emulates the shining, glimmering sun. Dot the ceiling with glow in the dark stars, planets, comets, meteor showers, and other nighttime phenomena for when the lights are out.

Paint the walls a deeper blue with highlights of white sea foam and tall wave crests, highlighted with images of dolphins, breaching whales, seals, sea turtles, seagulls, and other ocean life, as well as surfers, parasailers, water-skiers, and other ocean enthusiasts.

And speaking of the other life (human and otherwise) populating the typical beach scene, you can also add to the image by peopling the custom beach theme bedroom with stuffed sea animals as well as decorating it with surfboards, boogie boards, water-skis, inflatable rafts and water tubes, and other water-sport implements.

The floor of the room, meanwhile, can be divided in two: half covered in wood, ceramic, vinyl tile, or a beige carpet or floor mats evocative of the sandy shore and the other half covered in plush blue carpeting or floor mats reflective of where the water meets the shore.

The focal point of any bedroom is, of course, the bed. And the focal point of a custom beach themed living room would be a custom theme bed built in the shape of a structure typically seen on the sandy shore

On the display shelves on the room’s walls, built into the custom theme bed, and/or the surfaces of the various supplementary pieces of furniture in the room, you can display collections of seashells, coral, and sandglass. These ornaments also do well when glued onto the borders of mirrors, picture frames, and even on the custom theme bed itself.

Other details that help flesh out the fantasy may include a beach umbrella for shade and privacy, authentic beach furniture, along with fake rocks, boulders, and steep cliffs for depth. Ample soft pillows give a sense of floating on the water, and sheer, billowing fabrics evoke the constant light ocean breeze. A small working fountain can help add the sense and sounds of flowing water, and an aquarium filled with tropical fish or goldfish do well at adding an element of life brimming on your child’s private shores. Lastly, be sure to provide plenty of beach themed living room on a budget.

[topgearreviews]

7 Best Skimboards For Beginners-Ultimate Buying Guide.

Skimboarding is a fantastic sport for anyone who wants a fun challenge. It can be done on any kind of body of water, and you can even choose from several different types of board. It’s easy to learn but there are some things you should know before getting started. This guide will cover everything from the basics to tips specific to best skimboards for beginners!

7 Best Skimboards for beginners to buy in 2022

Zap Wedge Series Skimboard

This is the best skimboard for beginners because it has a smooth surface and will be easier to learn how to skim on. The thickness of the board is also great because it makes you feel stable when you ride it and can help you avoid injuries if you fall off while trying to learn how to ride one of these things. If you want something that looks nice, this one comes in all kinds of colors so that everyone can enjoy using it at home or out on the beach!

EZ Skim High-Performance Skimboards Series

This board has an excellent design which makes it look like someone took a surfboard, cut off part of the bottom and made it into something entirely different! It’s called “high performance” because no matter what size we give them, there aren’taren’t any complaints about its quality or material used here either – plus, there are even some personal touches added too, so each one feels unique when using them later down the road (or right now).

1. Zap Wedge Series – Best Skimboard for Beginners

The Zap Wedge Series is a great beginner board for those just starting. It is a good value for the money and easy to use. This skimboard can be used by anyone regardless of weight or size. The Zap Wedge Series is made from EPS foam which makes it lightweight, sturdy and durable at the same time. When you purchase this skimboard, you will receive two handles that come with this product so that making turns easier for beginners just starting out on their skimming journey.

The Zap Wedge Series comes in three different sizes: 8-inch, 10-inch and 12-inch (the larger the board, the more advanced it may seem). There are also three different colours available: blue, red or yellow (each colour has its style). These boards come with fins attached, but there is an option in which you can remove them if needed (this option might be needed if your lake has small waves).

2. EZ Skim High-Performance Skimboards Series

This skimboard is a great choice for beginners. It’s easy to ride and has a nice flat deck surface, making it perfect for any type of rider. The board can be ridden by kids, men, women and seniors alike, so it will work well for anyone who wants to have fun on the beach.

The EZ Skim High-Performance Skimboards Series also comes in many different colors so you can choose one that suits your style! This is another great option if you want something affordable but still high quality like our first pick above:

3.   Victoria Skimboards Standard Series.

When the wind is blowing over 10 knots or more, Victoria Skimboards recommends you use our surfing skis, an inflatable kayak or a catamaran.

Victoria Skimboards designs and manufactures boards with high quality in mind for an affordable price. We provide a variety of boards for different skill levels and are diligent about what we put in to each board via environmentally friendly products and processes.

Whether you need something for beginners to learn on, something more advanced for contest racing, or anything in between we have a board that is perfect for you! All of our boards are made from the highest quality equipment available and can be customized with graphics of your choice. We offer boards specific to the types of water in which you will use them such as a surf or flat water board, a skating board and many more. We also carry all the gear needed to take your board, such as life jackets and paddles.

They produce a variety of boards for different skill levels and prices, from entry level soft deck blue ribbon competition race boards with high production volumes, to premium hard deck skis that are customized by hand with not only graphics but personal touches.

Victoria Skimboards is Canadian-owned and operated by Victoria Skimboards, Inc., started in 1976. They operate all over North America; Canada, US, Mexico & Puerto Rico. We’re based out of Victoria, British Columbia.

Skimboards Standard Series

Length: 39 inches

Width: 9.5 inches

Thickness: 0.75 inches

Weight: 3.5 pounds

Material: EPS Foam

4. Victoria Surfboard Mini skimmer.

The Victoria Surfboard Mini Skimboard is great for beginners, kids, and people just starting out with skimboarding. The board is stable and easy to ride but still has enough pop to give you a nice smooth ride on flat water. This board is also great for learning new tricks because the concave design makes it easier for beginners to catch waves or slow down their speed when necessary.

This board is perfect for small waves or lakes with calm waters without too much chop, so it won’twon’t get damaged easily as you learn how to surf with this mini skimboard. The extra size will make it easier for younger children (who are still developing their balance) to stand up on the Victoria Surfboard Mini skimmer while they learn how to balance themselves while surfing on these shallow waters, which means no worries; about getting hit by more giant waves!

It’s made from biodegradable materials, which means less impact on our environment when using this product during its lifetime, which makes us happy knowing we’re doing our part in keeping things clean.

5. MAGIC UNION X2 Lightweight Portable Travel Stand Up Paddle Board & Kayak Paddle Board

MAGIC UNION X2 Lightweight Portable Travel Stand Up Paddle Board & Kayak Paddle Board

Do you like the idea of a portable paddle board that can be used for more than just standing up? Then this is the board for you! The Magic Union X2 is an excellent value in terms of price and quality, making it an ideal choice for beginners who want something versatile and long-lasting. This is one of the best boards on our list because it combines all the benefits of portability with versatility, allowing you to use your board in multiple ways. It also comes with a carrying bag, so travelling with your SUP will be as easy as pie!

We highly recommend this product if you’re looking for something small enough to carry around but still big enough to enjoy different activities (surfing, racing, yoga). This product was designed by an Australian Company called “Magic Union”. They focus on creating high-quality products at affordable prices so they can help more people enjoy this sport without breaking their bank accounts. The Company has been around since 2005, when they first started selling inflatable kayaks made from PVC material which were later replaced by EPS foam boards due to their superior qualities compared to PVC ones, such as more excellent impact resistance due.

6. Carver CX4/CX5 Pumped Complete Skateboard, Blue Water, 44 Inch.

The Carver CX4/CX5 Pumped Skateboard, Blue Water, 44 Inch, is a good skimboard for beginners because it is high quality and easy to use. It is made of high-density polyethylene, which makes it durable and long-lasting. This board also has a low profile and tapered rails design that enables you to ride in any surfing conditions or weather conditions.

The Carver CX4/CX5 Pumped Complete Skateboard, Blue Water, 44 Inch, has a unique design that gives riders more balance when riding this skimboard compared to other skimboards with the same shape but different sizes. The board’sboard’s size also allows users to keep their feet together while riding this skimboard instead of spreading them out if they have longer legs than others so that they can stay balanced on the water even if there are waves around them during their rides.

7. ZAP Lazer Epoxy – Best Professional Skimboard for Beginners

The Zap Lazer Epoxy is a good choice for beginners. It is lightweight and easy to use, which makes you feel more comfortable. Another reason why this skimboard is one of the best boards for beginners is that it has a great grip and can last for many years without getting damaged easily.

The Zap Lazer Epoxy also has an affordable price tag, making it accessible for everyone who wants to learn how to skimboard. If you’re looking for something that will make your learning experience more accessible and safer, this board might be perfect! It has everything that you need to get started with your skills as soon as possible: stability, durability and safety features (such as its non-slip deck) which help even the most inexperienced riders stay on top of their game while riding around on water surfaces like beaches or pools with ease). See more another gear tips How Much Are Jet Skis Compared to a Boat.

FAQ: What skimboard is best for beginners?

Skimboard is a longboard with a small, rounded nose and a wide tail. It is typically used for surfing and skimboarding in the ocean. The board can be ridden on both its nose and tail, which makes it easier to maneuver quickly.

The best skimboard for beginners is one that has a wide tail and a small nose. It will make it easier to maneuver when you are just starting out, so you can get used to the board before you try anything too advanced.

What brand of skimboard is best?

There are many skimboard manufacturers out there but the best and most popular ones are Victoria Skimboards, Zap Skimboards, Exile Skimboards, DB Skimboards, and Wave Zone Skimboards, Slotstik Skimboards, Meyer Boarding Company, Body Glove, Grape Skimboards, Wavestorm, South Bay Board Co., and Santa Cruz Skimboards.

What skimboard should I get?

Skimboards come in all shapes and sizes with different features and prices. You should first determine what type of board you want to buy before going out to buy it. Some people may want a board with a longboard design while others may prefer a short or wide board design.

If you are looking for a board without frills and with a good price, you may want to go for a longboard. A longboard is ideal if you are not looking to break the bank while surfing on the waves. On the other hand, if you want a stylish and more expensive board that has many features like an adjustable fin system, different flex designs and “wet-edge” technology, you should go for a shortboard.

Q: What is a skimboard?

A: Skimboards are small surfboards with a foam core that you stand on and ride waves with. They’reThey’re great for beginners because they allow riders to learn how to ride waves while keeping their feet dry. Skimboarders can also learn tricks like ollies, kickflips, and other skateboard moves thanks to their lightweight nature (though. It’s worth noting that kickflips require much more skill than just standing on top of your board).

Conclusion.

We hope this article has helped you find the best skimboard for beginners. Although there are many skim boards on the market, only a select few have what it takes to be labelled the best 7 for beginners. I will do my best to update the article as time goes on, so please check back regularly.

If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to leave them in our comment section below.

[islamfakrul]

Top 10 Best beginner surfboard for big guys [2022]

Top 10 Best beginner surfboard for big guys [2022]

1. Surf Survival: The Surfer’s Health Handbook Buy On Amazon 2. South Bay Board Co. – 7′ / 8′ / 9′ Premium Foam Surfboards – Wax-Free Soft-Top Surfboards – Best Beginner Surfboards for Kids & Adults – Fins & Leash Included – Patented Heat Damage Prevention System Buy On Amazon BEST BEGINNER SURFBOARDS: SBBC offers the best beginner surfboards for kids and adults to surf with. Our patented…

[roshapes]

6’0” twin for Justin.. this one was a full team effort with @danoke77 glassing and making the fins, Chok doing the bolts, pinlines and fin foil, @personcalledalex.mp3 sanding and giving it the mirror polish and finally @marcwelshpaints with the killer LB mural on the foam. Justin had wanted a board like this since he was a kid, so we did our best to bring his idea to life. I reckon it came out alright! #okesurfboards #handshaped (at Oke Surfboards) https://www.instagram.com/p/CWjVrIlh49W/?utm_medium=tumblr

[expatimes]

How a surfing revolution is riding the wave in India

Murthy Meghavan is a former fisherman who is now a surfing instructor at Covelong Beach in Kovalam, a coastal village 40km from the southern Indian city of Chennai.

He had been riding the waves before he even knew it was an actual sport but had never aspired to surf professionally. As a child, he used an old wooden plank that had washed ashore, once a part of someone’s door, as a makeshift surfboard.

In 2007, a 20-minute chat with Jack Hebner, hailed by locals as the “surfing swami” for his passion for yoga, Hinduism and surfing, changed Meghavan’s life.

In 2004, Hebner had established India’s first surfing school, the Mantra Surf Club in Mangaluru. Fascinated by Hebner’s carbon-fibre board, Meghavan mustered up enough courage to ask him if he could borrow it.

“When I went surfing with it, it felt like I was floating on a cloud,” 47-year-old Meghavan, who now runs his own surfing school at Kovalam, told Al Jazeera.

Many of the students he teaches are children of fisherfolk from low-income families.

Sekar Pachai, 29, is another fisherman-turned-professional-surfer from the same village who has won several championships at home and abroad.

When Pachai first began surfing, corporate sponsors made it possible for him to turn pro, he says, adding that it is very difficult for someone from an underprivileged background to make it as a competitive surfer without support.

Despite the country’s 7,000km of coastline, not all beaches provide the ideal conditions to surf

Finding a decent surfboard is often the first obstacle. A foam or fibreglass board for beginners can cost between $150 and $1,000. A professional board can cost upwards of $1,500.

Even if you could afford it, surfboards were stocked in India’s sporting goods stores only in the last five years. Prior to this, a good board was more likely to find its way via foreigners.

In 2003, an Australian surfer gifted a battered board to a child in Meghavan’s village.

When Meghavan realised the kid did not care for it much, Meghavan paid him 1,500 Indian rupees ($31.4 at the time) to buy it from him. But he did not have an ankle leash so he used his fishing rope which alarmingly wound itself around his neck whenever he fell.

President of the Surfing Federation of India (SFI), Arun Vasu, feels regular financial support for the sport would help carve its future trajectory in India as it is funded by private donors and corporate sponsors only.

Despite the country’s 7,000km (4,350 miles) of coastline, not all beaches provide the ideal conditions to surf. The lack of sponsorship also affect surfers in restricting travel for training under different wave conditions.

“To be on par with a global surfing community, Indians need training in all-wave conditions and to travel in the global surfing circuit,” said Vasu. “Without adequate funding, this won’t happen.”

Even within the country, travel expenses can mount.

Surfers must practise in the few beaches where encountering bigger waves is possible – Mahabalipuram and Kovalam in Tamil Nadu, Varkala in Kerala, Mulki and Gokarna in Karnataka, coastal Pondicherry and Goa.

These waves are seasonal – between May and September – and even during the peak season, these beaches do not offer as wild a wave as you can encounter in Playa Grande in Costa Rica, Jeffreys Bay, South Africa, Bell’s Beach in Australia, Uluwatu in Bali, or Huntington Beach in California.

The surfing community in India is small and tends to be spread out over the country.

Very few women – the SFI estimates their number is at eight to 10 across the country – have taken up the sport

Surfing festivals are held in Kovalam, Mangaluru and Orissa, drawing attention to the sport, attracting sponsors and helping professional surfers meet and compare notes.

India has an estimated 40 surfing schools. Vasu estimates that there are only 100 to 120 professional surfers. The others are enthusiasts who love the waters, take occasional lessons and who enjoy surfing for leisure.

Srikanth Dhanashekar, 16, is a son of a fisherman in Kovalam.

His day starts at 7am with a gruelling training schedule that lasts four hours. But he does not mind the aches and pains.

“Surfing gives me such joy,” said Dhanashekar. “I feel one with the sky and the sea. I can’t imagine my day without it and my dream is to represent India in the Olympics someday.”

While diverse athletes from fishing communities are finding their footing in the sport, there is one area in which it continues to lack representation: gender.

Very few women – the SFI estimates their number is at eight to 10 across the country – have taken up the sport.

Even those who do surf confront many difficulties and prejudices head on.

Ishita Malaviya, 32, began surfing in 2007, becoming the first professional female surfer in the country.

Ishita Malaviya, India’s first female professional surfer

When she started competing, her goal was to represent women at events. While still in college, she and a friend would surf on weekends, boarding a bus at 5am, lugging an eight-foot second-hand surfboard to the beach in Manipal, in the southern Indian state of Karnataka.

“The board took up the combined backrest of eight seats on the bus. People would have to lean on it while sitting,” said Malaviya.

Curious and amused, other passengers would ask her questions about surfing, so at least it sparked conversations.

Sinchana Gowda, 20, crossed over to surfing from professional swimming and has been winning national awards since the age of 13.

But intrusive questions about the way she dresses when surfing in a wetsuit or shorts have been much harder for her, she says.

India’s first surfer girl Ishita Malaviya cuts through waves uncaring of her darkening skin or stereotypes, truly going against the flow! pic.twitter.com/HEzxRGXFfA

— oomna (@oomnawhodares) October 24, 2017

Suhasini Damian, 29, from Auroville in Pondicherry, is a national award-winning surfer coached by her husband, a surf instructor who shaped her red and pink board for her, customising it to her body weight for easy manoeuvrability.

Strangers have walked up to her to tell her that if she spends too much time in the sun, her skin would tan beyond recognition.

She has never felt comfortable surfing alone because she has had to contend with drunken men, lewd comments, catcalls and whistles.

India’s lack of a beach culture meant that female surfers were often singled out, says Malaviya.

But she hopes that will change as more women discover the joys of surfing.

“I’ve found my surfing family but I’m still striving for a surfing sisterhood,” said Malaviya.

The family Malaviya refers to are fishermen and their children, who, in 2012, helped her and a business partner set up a surfing club near Udipi, Karnataka, transforming a dilapidated abandoned home into a warm, inviting resort.

“Surfing dissolved all our barriers as they welcomed us – strangers – into their community. It reminds me of how in front of a mighty ocean, we are all equals.”

India’s lack of a beach culture meant that female surfers were often singled out, said Malaviya

Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=19278&feed_id=38759

[saltysummers]

~Surfing~

Like most kids, I enjoyed boogie boarding. But as previously said, I went to the beach nearly everyday. Boogie boarding was becoming a mundane activity by the time I was around eight, and I wanted to spice it up. I started perfecting the art of standing up on the two foot piece of foam. Once I nailed that I started to get bored again.

The photo above is of my sister and I. She was nine and I was seven. 

It would be a couple years later that I would watch “Soul Surfer” for the first time. I was instantly obsessed. I knew I had to surf. A few months later I ponied up all of my Christmas money and bought my surfboard when I was 10 years old. I still use that board to this day at 19 years old. It’s a tiny NSP, probably about five foot four inches, with orange swirls spiraling up from the tail. 

Surfing has become one of my favorite things to do. I’m not a professional by any means but I love it nonetheless. The feeling of being out on the water, waiting for the next perfect wave is indescribable. It’s so peaceful, yet so fun. 

Photo from the beach last summer. 

[ratfish-blues]

Building Love out of Legos: Chapter 6: The Aquarium

Previous chapters:  (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Emil couldn’t help but stare at the decorations surrounding the ticket counter as they walked into the aquarium. He hadn’t been here since he was a kid and the fimo kelp leaves that encircled the windows and lined the outside of the booth were a pretty drastic scenery change from the dull, tan, fish silhouettes that he remembered decorating the space.  

“Big fan of seaweed?” Alfred asked, turning to Emil as he stood at the counter and waited for the teller to swipe his card.

“Uh, no,” Emil muttered in embarrassment, “I just haven’t been here in awhile.” “Well, then it will be an adventure for you!” Alfred exclaimed as the cashier handed him a pair of day passes, “Come on! Let’s go to the tropical fish hall first!”

And just like that the taller blond had Emil by the hand and was pulling him through a sea of suburban moms and sticky toddlers. Once they had gone several feet, passing the jellyfish and touch tank exhibits without stopping, the two men found themselves confronted by a large, fake, cave shaped, coral reef.    

“Look it’s Nemo!” Alfred squealed as they entered the ‘cave’. He let go of Emil’s hands and ran over to the clownfish tank, pressing his nose up against the viewing window until his glasses scraped against the plexiglass.

“Um..yeah,” Emil blushed. Alfred’s excitement was…kind of cute, but it was also embarrassing. Didn’t Al know that he was a 6-foot tall man who came across as intimidating? Emil really hoped this sort of behavior didn’t cause any of the suburban moms too-

“And there goes, Dory!”  

“Yup,” Emil sighed as a royal blue tang swam past them. This was going to be an awfully long date if this kept up.

“Come on let go to the next tank, it’s got Carribean reef sharks!” Alfred exclaimed.

“Sure, why not.”

But instead of heading for the shark tank as expected Alfred turned around to face Emil, a frown evident on his face.

“Hey, why do you sound so down? Aren’t you having fun?”

“I’m just tired,” Emil lied. He might be embarrassed by Alfred’s behavior, but that didn’t mean he wanted him to feel bad about it.

“You weren’t tired when we got here, and that was only a few minutes ago. Come on, tell me what’s really wrong,” Alfred pouted.

“I-uh, um, well, you see I- uh” Emil stuttered as he tried to come up with a better lie. Shit, that was his normal excuse for being unenthused, now what was he supposed to say? “um, I’m just…not a very big fan of tropical fish. Their colors are..too bright for me? I prefer small grey fish like herring…yeah, herring,” he said, trying his best to sound convincing, but knowing beyond any hint of a doubt that he wasn’t.  

“Oh!” Alfred cried, his face brightening instantly, “well if that’s the only problem, then we can go to the Fish of the North Atlantic exhibit!”

“Oh, uhh, yeah, that would be good,” Emil replied mindlessly as he tried to figure out how on God’s green earth Alfred hadn’t called bullshit on him.

In fact he was so perplexed by Alfred’s blind trust in his excuse that he barely even noticed as he was pulled through the sea foam green halls of the aquarium and into a large exhibit room with the words Fish of the North Atlantic: Wonders From the Deep written across the entrance in large, dark blue, impact font. It was only once they were in the room that he snapped out of it, taking dim lighting and “underwater” wall patterning that was being projected by a light in the ceiling.

“Here are the fish you want to see,” Alfred said as they walked over to a large, multi-species tank that took up the whole wall, “What do you think.”

Emil stood there for a minute, watching as a school of capelins swam past, flashing their scales as the went. It was oddly calming, and while Emil had been lying when he said he didn’t like tropical fish, he couldn’t help but admit that he liked this room better. It had fewer people and more ambiance, two things that could improve any first date.

“It’s nice,” he stated after watching the fish for a few more seconds.

“Yeah,” Alfred said, before pointing to a spotted wolffish, “hey look at that guy!”

“I bet he’s an asshole,” Emil joked.

“Oh totally, I mean just look at those teeth.”

“And speaking of teeth, look at that one over there over there,” Emil mused, gesturing to a black scabbard fish at the bottom of the tank.

“Oh, he’s gruesome! That dude could totally take me in a fight.”

“I know right,” Emil grinned. In that moment, as he and Alfred stood there in light of the fish tank and continued to chuckle at the leering eye of a haddock that was pressed against the glass, Emil realized that he was having fun. Real genuine fun. The type where you laugh hard enough and loud enough that you forget to worry about what people think of you. The type of fun that he hadn’t had in a long time. And he suddenly felt a very strong urge to kiss the man that had made him this happy.

He was just about to pucker his lips and stand on his tiptoes when Alfred suddenly turned to him with a delighted grin.

“Hey, I bet I know another exhibit that you’ll like even more!” he proclaimed.

“O-oh,” Emil muttered, disappointed that his attempt at a kiss had been preempted, “What exhibit is that?”

“Come on I’ll show you!” Alfred said, almost bouncing on his toes in anticipation as he led the two of them back into the aquarium’s main hallway, “You’re going to love it!”

Emil followed along, trying his best to guess their next location until Alfred finally stopped. There, standing in front of them was the worn wooden door to one of the outdoor exhibit, with the words Seabirds written across the top of the casing in loopy slanted letters that were reminiscent of a surfboard rental company.      

“When I saw the shirt you were wearing today I knew we had to come here,” Alfred explained as he pulled open the door, “It just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t get to see any puffins!”

Emil looked down at his I freaking love puffins shirt, and realizing what a wonderfully morbid joke he could make out of this situation, looked back at Alfred with a blank face.

“I love puffins because they’re delicious,” he said, doing everything in his power to suppress a smile.

Alfred’s face drained of color instantly.

“They what now?”  

The look of horror on the taller man’s face was enough to make Emil burst into giggles.

“It was a joke, don’t look so freaked out! I mean they do taste good, but I also think they’re cute. Not to mention they have some ridiculously complex social behaviors.”

“Okay, but…how would you know that they still taste good?” Alfred asked warily.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m from Iceland, it’s a delicacy there,” Emil responded, “but if it helps I haven’t eaten any puffins sense I was 6. That’s when my family moved to the U.S”

“Well…” Alfred said, a little bit of color coming back into his face, “I guess that makes sense if it was a traditional thing… uh, you won’t eat these puffins will you?”

“No, of course not,” Emil laughed, “They’re behind like two layers of plexiglass anyways, I couldn’t get to them if I wanted to.”

“Um…yeah…okay then,” Alfred puled, dropping the subject, “Are-are there any other seabirds you like besides puffins-not in an eating way I mean.”

“Oh of course! You know I really love guillemots. Did you know that black guillemots can hold their breath underwater for up to 2 minutes and 20 seconds? That’s almost twice as a long as a puffin can hold its breath!” Emil blabbered. He usually wasn’t one to talk much about his personal interests, but considering the fact that they were in a marine bird exhibit his obsession with seabirds seemed like an appropriate discussion topic.

“Boy, you sure know a lot about this huh,” Alfred commented, “Did you study birds in college or something?”

“Nah, I just spend too much time on Wikipedia,” Emil admitted. He was about to say more, but instead opted to stop mid-conversation to point to one of the animal enclosures, “Hey look! There are some Brünnichs Guillemots in that enclosure! You know they’re one of the most common birds in the northern hemisphere. They’re also part of the Auk family. Aren’t they cute! Look how those two are preening each other!”

“You know I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk this much before,” Alfred mentioned, looking at Emil in amusement.

“Oh…uh, sorry, am I steering the conversation too much?” Emil wondered out loud, anxiety getting the better of him, “I can stop talking if you want, I know I get a little chatty when it comes to birds.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Emil blushed. He was not intending to be cute, he was intending to sound educated, but hey, sometimes actions had unintended consequences. He sure as hell wasn’t going to complain, this was a date after all.  

“Hey look,” Alfred said, pulling Emil out of his thoughts, “There are the puffins.”

“Where!?” Emil exclaimed, whipping his head around to where Alfred was pointing before running over to the puffin exhibit.

“Slow down there buddy, they’re not going anywhere,” Alfred laughed, as he followed Emil over to the exhibit “So say then mister ornithologist, got any fun facts about puffins for me?”

“Of course I do!” Emil cried, as he leaned into the glass enclosure to get a better view, “For starters, there are 4 different species of puffins. These guys here are Atlantic puffins, and oh gosh they’re adorable! Look at that one swimming with fish in its mouth! Anyways Atlantic puffins have incredibly intricate social behaviors, they have to land with their feet in a very particular position during nesting season to show that they’re not a threat to other puffins and when they walk through each other’s territories they- oooooh my god, oh my god. Look at those two! they have a puffling! It’s so fluffy! Did you know that pufflings can’t eat herring? They can only eat smaller forage fish like sand lance or they’ll choke. It’s actually become a big problem with- holy guacamole, look at that charming little guy strutting around over there, what a good handsome birdy you are. Yes, you are! Yes you a-”

Suddenly Emil realized that he was being pulled away from the viewing window of the puffin enclosure. Before he had time to reject, however, Alfred managed to thoroughly shut him up by giving him a chaste, but hearty, kiss, brushing both of their chapped lips together just long enough for Emil to regain his bearings.  

“You’re a heck of a lot cuter than I originally thought,” Alfred chuckled as he pulled away from the kiss, “But next time I’d appreciate it if you finished one thought on the intricacies of puffin behavior before you started a new one. Seems like some interesting stuff, I would love to hear it all again later when I can take notes.”

“Oh-okay” Emil stuttered out, still a bit dumbfounded from the unexpected kiss, “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“I’m sure you will,” Alfred laughed, “Now come on, let’s go look at the jellyfish.”