Penguin escapes killer whales by jumping onto a boat.
Antarctic penguins (and most other Antarctic animals for that matter) are very interesting because they lack a natural fear of humans since, of course, humans are not a natural occurrence on the continent. It is one of the few places on earth where it is completely normal for fully wild animals to be comfortable around you. In fact, most react as though humans are just especially large penguins as those are the only flightless biped native to the area.
As far as this gentoo penguin is concerned, it was saved by a float of large yellow penguins also hiding from orcas.
If you’re able to, read your writing out loud at some point during your revision process. If you’re stumbling over your words, your readers will, too. If you’re getting bored while you’re reading a long descriptive passive, so will they. Notice where you take natural pauses and edit your punctuation accordingly. Paragraph more frequently if necessary. Change up your style to have more sentence variety and avoid repetition. You’d be amazed what you notice that needs to be changed by reading your writing out loud!
If you’re able to, read your writing out loud at some point during your revision process. If you’re stumbling over your words, your readers will, too. If you’re getting bored while you’re reading a long descriptive passive, so will they. Notice where you take natural pauses and edit your punctuation accordingly. Paragraph more frequently if necessary. Change up your style to have more sentence variety and avoid repetition. You’d be amazed what you notice that needs to be changed by reading your writing out loud!
The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.
A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before & Stranger Things 3. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and @httpjeon for editing this chapter!
Jungkook let out a scoff, eyes rolling in dismissal.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Stop the car.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook scolded, reaching over to turn down the radio’s volume.
“I’m serious, asshole. Let me out!” You huffed before lowering your eyes into small slits. “You’re probably driving me off to a remote location just so you can kill me. Bet you’re just like that sicko Ted Bundy that they got locked up in Florida right now.”
Jungkook’s head snapped over to look at you, disbelief in his wide eyes.
“Holy shit, all I did was change the radio station!”
The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.
A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall. Hope you appreciate the easter egg based on her!
The eyes belonging to the girl in question, flashed your way, widening in alarm.
“Oh, yikes.” Was her automatic response, her bag of cool ranch Doritos falling onto her lap.
You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm’s living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.
“Before you say anything,” Yara began, swallowing down whatever remaining food was in her mouth, “you should know they were having a rerun of the VMAs – which I missed last night – at the same time as the lab.”
“You left me alone! You said you would go to the lab yesterday!” You griped, crossing your arms over your chest.
The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.
A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall.
The time on the clock was glaring at you, a silent caution that today’s lab was going to totally suck.
You could feel irritation start to eat away at you. You and your best friend, Yara, had a deal. She would show up to the dissection today and, in exchange, you would gladly do all the work. But given that class would start in four minutes, you had a sneaking suspicion that Yara was going to in fact skip class after all.
You let your chin sink down into the comfort of your open palm, eyes flickering once again towards the black and white clock that was perched up above the classroom’s blackboard. Usually, you could hear each small tick of time, but seeing as this lab was more exciting, every student in the room was currently chatting amongst their peers, covering the clock’s sound.
You considered for a moment making conversation with your professor. That idea was quickly squashed once you realized that he too was preoccupied – his attention set on the clock as well, allowing the minute hand to make its final journey before beginning the class.
Suddenly, you realized that not only had Yara left you alone, but she had also left you without a partner to do the dissection. You glanced around the room, frowning as you saw that every other table was evenly numbered, meaning you would be forced to join a random pair to make a group of three.
Wicked.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” Mr. Kim began, pausing to take a swig from his coffee mug. “I hope everyone read the email I sent out yesterday in regards to proper attire. If anyone isn’t wearing actual shoes, then I suggest you beat it unless you’re particularly amped at the idea of losing a toe when someone accidentally drops their scalpel.”
A few isolated giggles rang out, but no one made any move to leave.
“No one? Radical. Feet are gross anyway–”
The sound of the classroom door suddenly being pushed open stole away everyone’s attention. The late boy that walked in froze momentarily, clearly not expecting all eyes to fall onto him, but quickly regained his composure as he flashed a smile.
Spring has sprung and engagement is on the forefront of all of Regency London’s young ladies’ minds. All except for yours, of course– the Queen’s niece who a certain notorious author has named the Ton’s most undesirable.
warnings: cocaine usage (not oc or jk), oc has dead parents
A/N:this fic was commissioned by the lovely Baby. As per her request, it features me and our beloved izzy! please do let me know if you would like a part two, i have big plans for whats to come next ;)
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PART ONE **UNEDITED**
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A word of profanity left your painted lips as the outsoles of your lace-up boots danced across the limestone floor of the palace, making haste but not in a manner that was unbecoming, your head held high despite your mood running low.
You reached the door of Her Majesty’s room with purpose, hands fiddling with the satin of your dress to make sure it covered your shoes. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the influx of garments your dear aunt had gifted you upon your arrival. Still, the heels Her Majesty had deemed in style this season were particularly uncomfortable. She would no doubt grow sour to see you parading in countryside shoes in her home.
“Your highness.” One of the oldest guards snickered, his eyes flicking towards you knowingly as he and another guard moved to open the grand doors to their Queen’s private quarters.
You crunched your nose, “Shh."
Of course, the guards had already read the paper… Rotten gossips.
Willing a smile onto your face, you were let into the room. Your aunt sat at her sofa, the furniture floral in design, its fabric dyed a luxurious red. Between her hands were the source of your dismay, the newest Lady Whistledown papers fresh off the press.
You hadn’t had the pleasure of reading this week’s issue personally, but word traveled outrageously fast in the palace; both maids and guards suckers for a good scandal. You knew quite intimately the matter of its content as you were the matter of its content.
”Ah. Niece. There you are.” The Queen called you over, setting the paper down beside her unceremoniously.
You walked closer stiffly, “Aunt Charlotte, you wished to speak to me?”
