#Denise Dresser

[dominiopublco]

Le dan las gracias a Denise Dresser en "La hora de Opinar" en ForoTV

“Hay destituciones que son como una medalla de honor y esta es una de ellas”, dijo la politóloga al iniciar su mensaje. Continue reading Le dan las gracias a Denise Dresser en “La hora de Opinar” en ForoTV

[formerleopard]

Psicóloga Cecilia, para mí un enigma

Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola es para mí un enigma. Parece haber creado un álter ego, una joven de origen israelí (sionista, mas no judía) de rostro perfecto y anatomía delgada, de raza caucásica, que viste prendas de ropa de muy alto precio, usa smartphones de alta gama (que frecuentemente usa para tomarse sus selfies) e incluso posa en el interior de una camioneta Town & Country, uno de los símbolos más representativos de la época actual que parece haber alcanzado la cúspide de la decadencia, en que el individuo exhibe su pobreza personal (su miseria) mostrándole al mundo sus adquisiciones.

Entre más tengo, mayor es mi carencia y debo exhibir eso al mayor número de personas posibles.

 Yo encontré en Celia Bucay (álter ego de Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola) a un ser humano excepcional y de pronto descubro que esa identidad es falsa, y ella desea integrarse a una comunidad de supremacistas blancos (que quebrantan las enseñanzas de su deidad, su poder superior en grado superlativo) usando una máscara y un disfraz.

Qué compleja puede ser la psiquis de un ser humano. ¿Qué motiva a Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola, la ambición, deseo de poseer bienes materiales? De ser así, ¿cuál sería el origen de eso, una enorme pobreza interior?

Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola debe haber convivido con integrantes de la comunidad sionista y maestros y alumnos de universidades donde quienes atesoran un carácter anal acumulativo (la mayor de las pobrezas que puede aquejar a un ser humano) mandan a estudiar a su descendencia.

El Instituto Tecnológico Autónomo de México (ITAM) recibió mucho dinero del erario (desvío de recursos, delito en extremo lesivo para gran parte de la población del país, en particular quienes han vivido en la mayor precariedad económica) durante el sexenio del gobierno federal entre los años 2012 – 2018, y ahí da clases una mujer que se ha dedicado a exhibir su descomposición y su depravación en medios masivos de comunicación, esto es, televisión, radio, y escribe en uno de los diarios que proyectan la mayor podredumbre a la que se puede llegar. Denise Dresser se destruye a sí misma y su desintegración mental y emocional es exhibida con la mayor impudicia, lo cual parece explicar por qué en otras épocas de la historia los enfermos psicóticos eran vistos como poseídos y se intentó abordar el asunto con exorcismos y otros medios bárbaros y salvajes al interior de una institución religiosa que ya había alcanzado su mayor decadencia.

Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola se ha vinculado también con una universidad para millonarios fundada por uno de los más grandes criminales engendrados por la cultura a la que ella pertenece. Un sacerdote pederasta que violentó sexualmente a cientos de niños que jamás se recuperaron e incluso hubo quienes acabaron arruinados o poniendo fin a sus vidas.

Esta terapeuta ha trabajado durante años en una asociación civil de falsa filantropía que opera con recursos de una mujer que es hija de un magnate (ya fallecido) y pertenece a ese pequeño porcentaje de la población que acapara el capital y se opone con toda su energía a que se combata la injusticia y la desigualdad social.

La filantropía sirve para lavar las reputaciones de los archimillonarios y para deducir impuestos, cuando de por sí se reservan el derecho de evadir impuestos e incluso maniobran para recibir subsidios.

Quienes acaparan el capital son personas crueles, despiadadas, que pretenden elevar la injusticia a su máxima expresión y ahí se gestan los mayores problemas de violencia, la delincuencia común y la delincuencia organizada siendo lo más representativo de esto.

Esos magnates incurren en la mayor depravación humana y en sus orgías abusan sexualmente de niños de ambos sexos, los violan, pagan a trabajadoras sexuales para que orinen y defequen encima de ellos —incluso sobre sus rostros— (escatología), realizan actos sexuales con animales (zoofilia), con cadáveres (necrofilia) e incluso practican antropofagia (canibalismo).

¿Por qué aspira Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola a integrarse a las personas más horrendas que pueden existir? Ella es inteligente, su preparación académica es de primer nivel y por ello su orientación destructiva parece incomprensible.

La comunidad sionista apoya al estado genocida que comete limpieza étnica en Palestina.

¿Por qué busca Cecilia Bocanegra Mendiola integrarse a personas que parecen ángeles caídos sacados de la obra de John Milton?

Supremacistas blancos, como los miembros del Ku Klux Klan en el sur de los Estados Unidos y el Nacional Socialismo —nazismo— compuesto por miembros de la clase media baja en Alemania hace menos de 100 años parecen inspirar al sionismo, y una mujer que aparentaba llevar consigo una enorme riqueza, pareciera haberse planteado como objetivo descender a la mayor de las miserias humanas.

Esto resulta para mí incomprensible

[labrecha]

En México se Vive una Elección de Estado: Denise Dresser

En #México se Vive una #EleccióndeEstado: #DeniseDresser

** Pidió evitar darle la mayoría del Congreso a un partido político. ** Nosotros les dimos el poder para abusar en este sexenio. Saltillo, Coahuila de Zaragoza / Mayo 6 de 2024.- La elección de estado comenzó desde que la aspirante de Morena a la presidencia de la República Mexicana empezó a promocionarse desde mucho antes que iniciara el periodo oficial de las campañas electorales y cuando el…

[yoacusomultimediosblog]

Amarres perros

Denise Dresseren REFORMA Es la foto del sexenio, la imagen que retrata al gobierno actual. Todos parados en fila, algunos vestidos de verde, dedos en la frente, saludando y premiando a Salvador Cienfuegos, el ex secretario de la Defensa Nacional. Nuestra clase política, junto a los de botas y casaca, disciplinada, displicente y eso incluye a López Obrador. El Presidente que prometió regresar al…

[sinsandsweetness]

congrats on 1k babes!!!

i'm pickin a lil drabble, hyperfem reader and daryl? i just love that lol dynamic they're so opposite 💕

cw- mentions of blood/injury (not towards the reader)

When he walks in the house, he’s hit with the smell of something sweet. Marshmallows and pecans or something or other. The wick of the candle is still glowing when he walks over to the coffee table and puts it out. Very confused that you haven’t answered. He calls out a hello once more.

Still no answer.

He figures you’re just busy. Out with Rosita or maybe at Ricks, looking after Judith. But it was unlike you to leave a candle burning.

He’s only two steps from the bedroom when he hears it. Footsteps.

Lots of them. Shuffling on the shag carpet. He slowly draws his knife and carefully opens the door. Just enough to see inside the bedroom.

It’s only you. His shoulders immediately relax and his arm falls to his side. Retracting the blade back where it belongs.

You have headphones on. Huge ones with a cord attached to an iPod sticking out the back pocket of your denim skirt. You’re dancing. Not just a little head nod. No. You’re fully rocking out. Hips swaying as you jump up and down, humming along to who knows what Rick downloaded onto your iPod. And you still haven’t noticed your audience.

He can’t help but smile. Leaning up against the doorframe. Watching you move. Your hips. Your waist. Your arms going above your head as you spin yourself around.

He looks around the room and finds it a damn mess. Clothes are everywhere. Hangers on the bed. Makeup bag poured out on the dresser. Daryl shakes his head with a huff of amusent. He leaves you alone for two days…

“Oh shit!” You physically jump back when you finally see him. Heart rate skyrocketing before you realize the dark haired man is just your boyfriend. Dressed in full leather. Dirty and bloody with a brand new shiner on his eye and a busted up lip.

“You scared me,” you whine, pulling your headphones down and around your neck. Placing a hand on your heart as you regain your breath. Trying to calm your racing heartbeat down.

He chuckles, licking his bloodied lips and moving to join you. He settles right in front of you as you lean back on the dresser. One hand going to your hip, the other tucking some hair out of your face.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He gives you a sweet smile as he nudged a denim clad thigh between your legs.

“Dare… your face…”

“Huh? Oh- s’ nothin,”

Your brows pull together in an disapproving scowl.

“Daryl, those stitches were fresh. I did a really good job and you split ‘em already. It hasn’t even been a week.” Your voice is both full of concern and irritation. You’d finally perfected your sutures after hours of practice with Denise. You let the man leave the walls for two days and bam. His handsome face is fucked. Again.

“I know, m’ sorry.”

You pause for a moment. Hands going to fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

“Well?” You ask, irritated.

His own face sets in confusion.

“The other guy…?”

“Oh- uh,” he shakes his head, “you don’t wanna know, baby.”

You gently bring a hand up to his face, the soft pad of your thumb running over his lip. He doesn’t mean to flinch when you brush the part where his skin has split, all red and swollen.

“Tell me,” you whisper, leaning in and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to his busted lip. Wishing it was that easy, that you could heal him with a simple token of love.

He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, rough hands tightening their hold on your waist.

“It’s over. Doesn’t matter.”

You nod hesitantly. Wrapping your arms around his waist, underneath his jacket. His torso is warm against your touch.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is soft. Genuine.

He moves to kiss the top of your head, and pulls you into his chest. The clean perfume of your shampoo envelops his senses, and he wants nothing more than to breath you in and hold you close for the next 48 hours.

“I am now.”

[vivalas-vega]

Hello again! It's Syd 🥰🩷

I sent an ask a few days ago but I just saw your post about sending more so here I am! (& good luck on your journey quitting vape, you got this!! 🩷)

Here's an idea:

(Could be with bob, nat, jake, roost, it's up to you really) Reader just got home from work and starts rambling about work gossip with her partner while getting undressed to take a shower. The partner stops paying attention to the story as she lifts her shirt and takes off her pants, ogling at the brand new set of lingerie they had never seen her wearing before.

Reader is busy walking around the room gathering her skin care products & pajamas while going off on a tangent about a particularly annoying coworker. Noticing her partner isn't responding, she playfully asks "are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?", finally turning to find her lover on the edge of the bed with a dreamy look on their slightly flushed face, reaching for her as they ask "is that a new set...?"

Could be just fluffy with a hint of suggestive or smutty😌 feel free to change it anyway you want it!

hello !!! thank you so much for sending this request in and I'm so sorry that it took me an unreasonable amount of time to post !!! but, my first Bob fic ! this just screamed Bob to me, I took some creative liberties but I hope I did your request justice!

focus / bob floyd x reader

word count: 1k (short and sweet!)

warnings: a little spicy at the end but otherwise pretty pg-13!

“Bob, you home?” you asked, shutting the front door behind you as you dropped your keys in the bowl and slipped out of your heels and coat. Excitement had been radiating throughout your body, threatening to rattle you apart from the inside out the entire drive home. You were sitting on a rather juicy piece of intel you’d been counting down the seconds to be able to share with your partner… the first and usually only person you told anything and everything.

“Bedroom, honey!” You heard him call out and you raced down the hallway, bursting into the room with sheer glee written all over your face. “Good day at work?” he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

“No, not at all actually. Remember that case I’ve been working on I regretfully cannot tell you anything about? Client withheld something major and I spent the entirety of my day reworking the whole thing… after I’d just done that yesterday.”

“Then what has you so excited?” He watched as you took off your watch and earrings, delicately placing them in their respective homes atop your dresser. The book he’d been reading was abandoned the second he heard your voice echo throughout your shared home. If you were even remotely in his presence there was nothing else that could hold his focus, not that he would have wanted anything else to take precedence over you anyways.

“So, in the break room today I overheard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to, regarding a certain coworker and her husband.” you started, eyebrows raised as you watched the excitement on his face mirror your own as he shifted down the bed to listen with rapt attention.

“Please tell me this is about Denise,” he almost begged. This particular saga of workplace drama was a personal favorite of you two.

“Oh, is it ever. She was on the phone with her husband in very hushed tones arguing about the pick up and drop off schedule for their kids when she suddenly said ‘this has nothing to do with him’.” you continued, placing your blazer in the hamper.

“Him, as in the kids tutor, right?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “But the real pièce de résistance of this story is who made an impromptu stop by the office today… with flowers.” You’d already discarded your silk camisole and were sliding your favorite slacks off… a beautiful shade of emerald green fitted perfectly to your body before flaring out and creating the illusion your legs were a mile long. They weren’t just your favorite though, and you were completely unaware of the way Bob’s eyes tracked their movement down your curves into their puddle on the floor where you bent over to pick them up and he suddenly felt as if the room had gotten warmer.

“Is that so?” he asked, while his attention was hung on your every word a few moments ago, if you’d asked him any follow up questions on what you’d just said he’d have no response… he was far more interested in the black lace adorning your body, particularly in the fact that it was unrecognizable to him.

“Mmhm,” you hummed again, still blind to the way your boyfriend was looking at you as you moved around the room, lost in your after-work routine of shedding your work persona before your shower. “It’s as if she’s unaware of the fact that we all know, or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t care. It’s incredibly ballsy. You know, I actually like her husband, of course I know nothing of their home life and I know better than anyone the public façade can be polar opposite from the reality behind closed doors but he does seem like one of the good ones.” You’d paused for his response, expecting agreement or a snarky quip but when you were met with silence you turned around to find his eyes far lower than you anticipated. “Bob? Are you even listening to me?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but really you were anything but as you saw the lovesick look on his face.

His head snapped up, eyes wide like a man caught, “sorry sweetheart, I just… is this a new set?” he asked, swallowing harshly as his hands reached out and caught your hips, tugging you to stand in between his legs. He was looking up at you with pure adoration, the kind that knocked all the air from your lungs and rendered you almost speechless. Your first meeting by chance at the Hard Deck all those months ago had done nothing to prepare you for the man before you… timid glances and bashful smiles, earnest conversation and a chaste kiss to your cheek after walking you to your car. There was nothing timid or bashful about him now, nothing chaste about the way his fingers trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his eyes raked your form, fire burning within those blue eyes.

“It might be,” you teased, moving to straddle his thighs and his arms were quick to cage themselves around you, locking you in place and keeping you from falling backwards.

“And you expect me to give a damn about Denise when you’re parading around this room looking like this?” he asked, pressing kisses along the column of your neck.

You gripped his jaw, pulling his face back and forcing him to look at you. “You’re damn right I do.” you shot back, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid your beauty is a bit distracting.” he replied, pulling your hand away and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Besides… I think my attention would be better served elsewhere.” he added before continuing his path up your arm and to your collarbone where you couldn’t help but tilt your head back, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you agreed, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to press your lips to his. The previous topic was entirely forgotten now with your excitement channeled directly towards the man beneath you… the one person you wanted to share everything with and the one person who could make you gladly abandon anything and everything for.

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)

[c-t-r-l14]

Special

“I wish I was special

I gave all my special

Away to a loser

Now I’m just a loser.”

—————————💔————————-

Synopsis: You refuse to go out quietly.

This is the second part to Session 32.

———————————💔————————-

In all of his panic, it took Alex a couple of seconds to notice that the drawers to the dressers were ajar and the suitcases with your clothes inside. You saw his eyes widen as the realization hit, but the feeling of incredulity made him ask one singular question:

“W-Where are you going?”

The quiver in his voice made you die inside, and yet you kept you voice low, and your tone firm and flat.

“Away,” You simply replied, “I’m moving out.”

…….

He simply stared at you—his doe eyes wide with hurt and distress. His stare burned into your own, and it was painful to look at him. Despite that, you kept your expression neutral, and your back firm and straight. You made sure your face didn’t show your true feelings.

“Right now? Why?” He inquired.

“Because we broke up. There’s no reason to stay anymore, so I’m leaving,” You simply answered, and you continued packing your stuff.

“I just—I guess I didn’t think that you’d leave so soon…I thought that maybe you were gonna stay a bit longer.”

“Why?”

“Well, I haven’t even started packing yet—I don’t leave ‘till February 16th and I still got a whole lot of paperwork to sort out and everything before I go. So, I just thought that we’d have a little bit of time left to sort this—”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

You felt Alex’s gaze as you continued to pack. You can feel as he was trying his best to contemplate what exactly was going on right now. Your short, curt responses and air of indifference was clearly bothering him, and you could tell that he didn’t know what to do.

“Okay—what is your problem??” he asked, annoyance and confusion evident in his tone, “You’ve been gone for days, you haven’t been answering any of my messages—”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t know where I was? I sent you a text. I told you where I was and who I was with.”

“Yeah you did, but I—“

“Okay, so stop acting like I didn’t. I needed some time away from you. Who I was with and my location was all the information you needed.”

“What is with you?? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in days, and all I’ve been greeted with is a bad attitude, a suitcase filled with clothes, and you telling me you’re leaving!”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically feel the pain in his eyes. You continued to pack regardless.

“Yep, sounds about right,” you responded non-cholantly, “I got my girl Solana downstairs with the car. When I’m ready to go, she’s gonna drop me off at my mom’s house. Denise, Kimahri, and Dehlani are gonna be here in a couple of days for winter break, and they’ve agreed to help me pack up the rest of my stuff—Oh! I already told our Super that I’m moving too, he told me that I still have to pay my part of the rent—”

“Wait—Wait. Other people know about this?? You’ve had this whole thing sorted out already?” He asked incredulously.

That question confused you a little. Did he think you were at your mom’s house only for moral support?

“Shouldn’t it be obvious, Alex?” you sighed as you put a pair of pants in your suitcase, “I literally just mentioned the people who’ll be helping me move.”

“How come I was the last to know about it, though???”

You stopped packing, and turned your head in his direction and just stared. Your expression of neutrality was no more; your brows were raised and your eyes were wide with pure astonishment. You stared at his knitted brows, and the wrinkles on his forehead that were creased with worry. You stared at his glassy, doe eyes—and saw the hurt and pain they beheld behind the color of burnt sienna. His whole face held an expression of betrayal, agony, and bewilderment.

Oh, the irony.

“Yeah well, it doesn’t feel good now, doesn’t it Alex?” you sneered, trying your best to keep your voice low, “Being the last to know about shit you really SHOULD know about REALLY bites the big one, doesn’t it??”

“Oh my GOD, here we GO,” Alex groaned as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh what?? You’re mad now ‘cause you’re feeling what I felt that day??”

“(Y/N), How in the HELL did you expect me to tell you about the job offer if you couldn’t even handle me working with Natalie?? You looked through my phone, accused me of cheating, and expected me to not be at least a little bit hesitant about telling you?? And it seems like you STILL aren’t handling it well now, considering how you’re just ready to get up and leave!”

You faltered a little bit. Some of the things he said weren’t wrong. You lost your cool and made some very stupid decisions and it definitely wasn’t your proudest moment. Usually, when situations arose, you made sure to keep your feelings in check and be more logical and rational about things. But you were so worried that another person you loved would leave you for someone else. But that still wasn’t an excuse. And there was definetly a better way of communicating how you felt—one that didn’t involve you going through his phone and making stupid accusations.

“Look. I understand that you were hurt and surprised about what happened. I know what I did was wrong. I violated your privacy, and accused of shit you didn’t do, and I will always be sorry for that. I’m usually not like that—“

“I know,” he interjected.

“That’s the thing—you know! You know that I’m usually calmer. You know that I’m usually level headed. What I did was dumb, yes—but I would think that the one time I lose my cool and do something stupid wouldn’t be my defining characteristic!“

“It’s not!”

“Well you sure acted like it was when you made up that fuckass excuse—talkin’ ‘bout how you ‘thought you knew me,’ Alex. We were together for four years—and you me know better than anyone.”

You sighed.

“I’m not angry because you want to move to New York. It’s where your dream job is, and you should totally go for it. I’m angry because you tried to get rid of ME in the process.”

Alex’s eyes widened.

“What?” He gasped.

“It was so obvious that you’ve mentally checked out of this relationship long ago—and even more obvious that you’ve had your mind made up from the jump. And that’s comepletely fine. Sometimes, relationships don’t last forever…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You tried your best to hold it together.

“But the way you ended things between us was absolutely trifiling!!”

And it was true—that’s how you felt. You weren’t angry at him for leaving you. You weren’t angry that he wanted to go to New York. You were angry with the way he broke up with you—because the things he said that day didn’t make a lick of sense.

“I—I ended things for BOTH of our sakes! I did it because I love you!”

You couldn’t help but scoff at that statement. It took everything in your power not to roll your eyes.

“You did it because you wanted me GONE.”

“Wha—I can’t believe you’d say—”

“During the whole time you broke up with me, all you did was blame me for everything and make excuses, Alex! You say I’m not the right person to handle long distance—“

“Oh my GOD, there you go AGAIN with the assumptions!”

“Alex, how in the HELL did you expect me to take that??? You were most definitely alluding to it, don’t play with me!”

“I wasn’t—”

“If you weren’t alluding to it, then there was no reason to say it in the first place! If you really wanted to leave then that’s fine—but don’t get mad at me and accuse me of ‘jUmpiNG tO ConCLUsiONS’ when you say outta pocket shit like that! Especially since I ended up being right about you wanting to leave me in the first place!!!”

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest and your lungs were on fire. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and your throat closing up. You just wanted all of this to be over. Having this conversation hurt too much. And suddenly, you found yourself wishing for the hollowness that had once consumed your body to come back. You were in too much pain. You’d rather feel nothing at all. This was so damn difficult to do.

But anything worth doing is hard.

So you took in a deep, quivering breath and let it out slowly. You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, and you cleared your throat.

“You talked about how much this hurts you—how much it hurts to leave me, but it really doesn’t feel that way. You talk about how much you love me, but I feel like if you loved me as much as you said you did, then you would’ve at least tried to make this work, Alex. I KNOW how you are. You put your all into everything—into volleyball, into photography, and yet you couldn’t even muster up a little bit of effort to try and keep relationship going. You couldn’t muster up any effort, despite you telling me how much you loved me. So like hell, you do Alex. Like hell.”

You let the tears flow. There was no use in stopping them now. But despite that, you still continue on. A shaky sigh passed through your lips.

“I’m not mad that you want to leave. I’m not mad that you wanna pursue your dreams. But don’t tell me that I’m the love of your life and then do everything in your power to leave me behind! Nobody who claims to love someone as much as you do would be so blatantly dishonest! Your actions don’t match your words and it’s sickening!!”

You didn’t hide the quiver in your voice. You wanted him to hear the pain in it. You continued still, despite how horse your voice had become.

“I tried everything in my power to make things work, because I love you. I know I did wrong, and I’ll own up to that every single time. But do NOT put all the blame on me just because YOU don’t wanna be with me anymore! You are NOT completely blameless in all of this, and I’m sick and tired of you acting like you are!”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it in your ears. But you continued still.

“And I’ll be DAMNED if I let you go to New York thinking that what you did was even REMOTELY okay! You can’t just pull me out of your life with excuses and flowery words and cast me away whenever it suits you! I will NOT go out quietly, Alex! You will hear my mouth, and I want you to know that what you did was trifling!!”

Another shaky breath. In and out.

“If you had any love or respect for me at all, then you would’ve been straight up with me from the jump. There would’ve been no need for excuses or pointing fingers if you were just honest, Alex. I don’t know what was going through your head that day, but I’m telling you, I haven’t felt less human than in that moment, and I will NOT let you have the luxuary of living your best life in New York—not when you don’t understand what you’ve done wrong!”

Your eyes met his. They were as red and glassy as your own.

“I’m giving you a chance to break up with me the correct way. I want you to be honest. I want you to realize what you’ve done wrong. I want you to tell me straight up. No lies. No B.S. Please.”

A long, suffocating silence ensued. But Alex never said a word. He’d open his mouth, but nothing would come out—almost like the words would get caught in his throat before melting away. And whenever that happened he closed it. He did this for a good while—and each time, you waited for a response. And it felt like you were waiting forever.

But after what felt like an eternity, he simply hung his head and closed his mouth. He didn’t open it back up again. He didn’t have anything to say.

You couldn’t believe it. You were honest on the day he broke up with you, because that’s what he asked of you—and you felt like thats what he deserved. You were honest about where you were and who you were with when you left the apartment because thats what he deserved. You’ve been honest throughout this entire conversation. You poured your heart out to him, and told him how he made you feel, because thats what he deserved. And EVEN after all of that, he still wasn’t man enough to be honest with you. It was bad enough that your relationship was crumbling before your very eyes. It was even more terrible that you were losing him.

But you were literally giving him the oppurtunity to be honest with you right now, and he still wouldn’t take it. You weren’t even worthy enough for the truth.

That revelation cut deep. And it hurt so damn much.

And that hurt made you ANGRY.

“Forget it,” You growled, turning your attention back to your suitcase, “I should’ve known better than to ask a man who has such a hard time being honest to tell me the truth.”

He lifted his head as you began to pack.

“The craziest thing about this was how much you wanted me to be truthful to you on the day we broke up. You told me that trust is something that is crucial in a relationship, but I don’t know how you expect me to trust you when you can’t even practice what you preach. Integrity and effort is what keeps a relationship going, and you clearly lack BOTH of those things. I suggest you grow a fucking backbone and quick,”—You looked him directly in the eyes—“Or don’t be surprised when all of your future relationships end up like ours did.”

He didn’t say anything. He merely walked quietly out of the room.

………

You rolled your suitcase out of the bedroom. You wanted nothing more than to get out of this apartment and away from him.

“I’ll be back next Tuesday with my friends to pick up the rest of my stuff.”

You turned around and saw him standing there, right by the couch. He stared at you, eyes red and wide. His eyebrows knitted—creased with worry. And that same hurt and pain that was beheld behind the color of burnt sienna.

But you didn’t feel anything this time.

You opened the door.

“Goodbye, Alex. Hope your passion keeps you fucking warm at night.”

You walked out of that apartment—leaving Alex with nothing but a hollow feeling in his gut and the loud slam of the door ringing in his ears.

———————————💔———————————-

A/N: Good GOD, ya’ll. This was probably one of the most difficult fics I’ve ever written because it has so much dialogue in it!

I’m so sorry for the wait, ya’ll. But writing for Alex is actually really friggin’ exhausting because of how pissed he makes me. There will be more stories with Alex in them, but they will be spread few and far in between!

Also, sorry that’s so damn long💀 I didn’t wanna break it up into a third part because that’d be just stupid.

I hope ya’ll like it!

(And before any of ya’ll ask, YES, Kimahri was named after Saku’s pet cat.)

@tranquility-base-casino

Masterlist

[april-is]

April 26, 2024: Origin Story, 1993, Adam Falkner

Origin Story, 1993 Adam Falkner

Your grandma says you look just like your cousin Frank, mostly in the eyes when you grin. They chuckle at the dinner table when there is Frankie in your hair, towhead cowlicks bolting into sky

like strands of snapped hay. No one stays long on the subject, really – just the way he lives in your laugh, your funny faces, how he smokes like a ghost from your whistle. Once, your nan

had to grip the back of a chair to keep from buckling. And he’s not dead. He just moved. They told him he had to. So he bought a blue ‘82 pickup & went to New York to “get AIDS

and die.” Which he did. But not before filling his lungs with sky the size of God country & the new-fashion baptism of a sequined, hungry life. Not before flashing

through a decade of open-mouth laughter & living room play readings, crowded apartment holidays & finally, the big breaks. Not before the coke parties & park muggings & good news to share

with the boys & dinners at diners that let you run a tab & hard news to share with the boys. Not before beach houses wind-whipped with salt & memory, where they sit arms pretzeled to watch

the sun steal into the other life. But that’s later. It is 1993. You are nine-and-a-half but going on knowing. It’s the fourth of July & everyone is here except everyone who never is. Your giggle

lingers like grease on the walls as you float the hallway, dull murmur carrying on from the kitchen & there—frozen on the dresser, like a trophy & a prayer. He kisses you back.

--

Do me a favor? Take a quick 1-question poll on the future of these posts.

Today in:

2023: For the Dogs Who Barked at Me on the Sidewalks in Connecticut, Hanif Abdurraqib 2022: Demeter, Midwinter, Mairead Small Staid 2021: from A Pillow Book, Suzanne Buffam 2020: Letter to My Great, Great Grandchild, J.P. Grasser 2019: After the First Child, the Second, Mary Austin Speaker 2018: A New Lifestyle, James Tate 2017: Anchorage, Joy Harjo 2016: Poem to First Love, Matthew Yeager 2015: Ode to the Reel Mower, Jim Daniels 2014: So Much Happiness, Naomi Shihab Nye 2013: Habitation, Margaret Atwood 2012: About Marriage, Denise Levertov 2011: In Praise of My Bed, Meredith Holmes 2010: Black Swan, Brigit Pegeen Kelly 2009: In Me as the Swans, Leslie Williams 2008: Gnosticism V, Anne Carson 2007: American Names, Stephen Vincent Benet 2006: since feeling is first, e.e. cummings 2005: The Second Coming, W.B. Yeats

[rainfallnightmare]

Chapter 1

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

Florist Y/n x Bartender Sun, Moon, Lunar, Eclipse and BloodMoon

Fluff

Warning: None

Word counts: 1990

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

April 17th

Y/n POV:

It was the near beginning of spring. This morning I was driving to my new store that needs to be set up. As I pulled up to my soon to be open store. I park my car as my phone goes off and I pick it up to see who was calling me.

“Great it’s her”

I sighed since it was my mother who was calling me. I never got along with my own mother as she was very strict, pushy and never let me have fun when I was just a kid. My breaking point was when she wouldn’t let me decide my future cause she wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer. “Let's get this over with” I grumble to myself as I answer the call to see what my annoying mother wants. “Is there a reason why you are calling me?” I waited to hear what my mother had to say since all I heard on the other side  of the phone were just random noises. After about a minute of quiet, mother  just cussed me out then hung up. "That was something?" Putting my phone away as I got out of the car to go meet the old owner. "There they are, I hope your trip wasn't too terrible was it?" Denise, the old store owner said as she welcomed me inside the empty building. "Other than traffic being a bitch, it wasn't too terrible" I scratched the back of my head as I looked around the empty shop.

"Well I hope you make good use of this place, it would be great to see it be alive again" Denise smiled softly as she handed me the keys to the place. As she was chatting with me, she showed me where my new home will be. "I hope this will be as satisfying as a home and a shop" I smiled softly and nodded my head as I looked around the apartment. It was perfect to me as I can live how I want while I start my dream shop soon. "It's perfect, thank you for letting me have the place as I know it was precious to you" Denise chuckled softly and waved me off as she said that she was more than happy that it was in better hands now.

When Denise left me alone to my new home. I looked outside to see that a mover truck was waiting for me as it was now time to get unpacking. "Alright here to a new start" I said to myself as I headed outside to get help from the movers starting moving in my boxes and furniture.

It took about 20 minutes to have all of my belongings in the apartment once the movers left. Now here was the first day of me getting not only my apartment ready and set but I also have to start working on doing some repaint and design to the shop. I started my apartment first as I didn't have much to do and it was just me living here.

"Let's see, my living room is set, my bedroom is almost done and the kitchen is ready whenever I get hungry" I was nice to have my own place away from my toxic mother. As I carried over my last box to the bedroom. I looked out the window to see that I was next to a bar. "Celestial Light Bar, that is an interesting name for a bar" I chuckled softly as I started unpacking the box that had the rest of my belongings in. After I finished unpacking everything, I went to take a little break and layed in my new bed I bought.

"I'll start working on the shop tomorrow, I'm too tired to work on it today" I closed my eyes and relaxed a bit. I didn't realize that I ended up falling asleep. It was a long day for me because I didn't know that I was this tired.

April 18th

Beep beep beep

Hearing my phone alarm going off. I whine at the loud noise as I turn off the noisy phone. After a moment or two, I opened my eyes to see that I was in my new room. "So it wasn't a dream" I sighed in relief as I sat up and stretched.

As I got up and headed over to my dresser to get some clothes to change into. I jumped when I heard a loud slam open as I looked outside. A guy was thrown out of the bar as I watch to see a red like Moon bot came out of bar and crosses it metal arms. “This is interesting” As I watched what was happening, I could tell that the man must be totally wasted by how he staggered to get up. Soon as the guy started to yell at the animatronic that looks like he doesn’t give a damn.

“Go Home and sober up”

I was slightly surprised by the sound of this animatronic voice. A rough deep voice as it coldly tells the customer to leave was hot in my opinion. The man flipped the bot off as he staggered away while the bot turned around to head inside. Before it moved, my eyes widened as it turned its head towards my direction and looked at me. I held my breath as it stared before giving me a simple smile as it went inside the bar.

“I…okay then?” Shaking my head a bit, I went back over and got dressed as I grabbed the keys. Once that happened, I left my apartment and locked it as I headed to my car to head to the store. “Alright, let go get those paints and brushes as I can get started repainting the store's walls” I said to myself as I started to car and drove to the store.

After some time passed, I got what I needed and headed back to my place. Parking my car, I got out and went to my trunk and opened it to see the two paint cans I bought and a few bags with brushes and other things in it. “Let's get these inside and set up so I can start painting” I grabbed the bags first and hung them in on my arms while I grabbed two paint cans and shut my trunk as I headed over to the door.

As I place the paint cans down. I tried to get my keys to unlock the door but I ended up dropping them. “*Sighs* This is my luck” As I crouch down to pick up my keys. I look to see another animatronic outside of the bar cleaning the windows as if it was like a sun but more of an eclipse look. “Take a picture, it’ll last much longer” The animatronic said as it stopped and looked at me. “Oh i'm sorry, I just happened to look and saw you and was surprised” I said quickly getting up as I fumble around to get the right key to unlock the door quickly. “Sure I’ll believe that” The animatronic chuckled softly as it was about to go back to work but then stopped for a moment. “You're not from around here are you sir/ma’am?” I shook my head as I found the key and unlocked the shop's door.

“I just moved here yesterday” I said to the bot as I gathered the paint can’s and opened the door. Before I headed in, I turned to the animatronic and waved goodbye to them. “Well it’s nice to know you… Eclipse” The animatronic said as I tilted my head in confusion. “Eclipse is my name” Eclipse said as he went back to cleaning the windows. “I see, well I’ll see you around then Eclipse” I said to him as I headed inside the shop and closed the door before I set everything down onto the floor. “Alright time to start painting!” 

45 minutes later

“Alright the first coat of paint is now on, got to let it dry before I put on another coat of paint” I sighed softly and went over to crack the door open to let the paint smell out so it can dry quicker. As I took a seat onto the ground and looked around. I started to think about what to do since it was gonna be a bit til the paint dries. “Hmm maybe having a look at the bar next door wouldn’t hurt since I got nothing better to do right now” Getting up and looking at myself to see how bad I need to change. I went up to my apartment and took a quick shower while I got new clothes to wear for the rest of the day.

Once I was ready, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door as I locked it then headed to the bar next door. As I opened the door and walked inside. I was amazed by the celestial theme and how big it was as there were a lot of people here. Looking around while I walked over to the bar, I stopped to not just see one but five different animatronics. Eclipse and the red moon looking one was amongst the five with another sun like animatronic and two moon like ones.

“Sunny, we have another customer!” The light blue moon animatronic said as he looked at me with a cute smile. The sun animatronic looked to see me and smiled as the rays on its head danced around happily. “Your right Lunar, go welcome them!” The Sun animatronic said as the one named Lunar came over to where I was and greeted me with a bright smile.

“Welcome sir/ma’am, we hope you enjoy yourself here at celestial light” Lunar said as he guided me over to the bar where the other four were standing. “I see that we meet again sir/ma’am” Eclipse said with a soft chuckle as the red moon animatronic did the same as the moon and Sun animatronics turned to look at the both of them. “You know them Eclipse” The Moon animatronic said as Eclipse shook his head and turned to look at me. “Their our new neighbor next door” Eclipse said as he got down and pulled something out from the bottom and placed a menu in front of me. “A new neighbor, how exciting to hear!” The Sun animatronic said as he held his hand out to me.

“I’m Sun but you can call me sunny, these four are Eclipse that you met already, Lunar who just greeted you, Moon my twin brother and lastly BloodMoon” Sun introduced me to everyone as we shook hands. “I’m Y/n, I just moved here yesterday” I said smiling softly before I looked at the menu that Eclipse gave me not that long ago. “So you're very much a newbie in this town” Moon said as I nodded my head and looked at each of the animatronics. This was the first time I had an actual full on conversation with live animatronics. “So you're all bartenders huh?” I placed the menu down for now as everyone nodded their heads.

“Very popular ones to say the least” BloodMoon spoke as he leaned against the counter and grinned at me proudly. “I see, so what kind of drinks do y'all make?” I ask them personally even tho I could have looked at the menu. “Well sir/ma’am, each of us have our own theme drinks that are special to just your usual normal every day drink you can think of and more” Sun smirks as he places his elbows on the counter and leans against his hand before giving me a wink.

“Really huh, well then I would like to try on of those special drinks if you don’t mind~”

[msweebyness]

Revenge of the Akuma Class

Hey, ya’ll! I find the dodgeball and paintball posts by Artzy incredibly funny, so I decided to make a little reversal scenario! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Shadow Crawler: A game we played back in my hometown. It’s kind of like hide and seek, but it’s played in two teams. One team is the ‘seekers’, kind of, but the kick is they’re the ones hiding. They hide all around the area while the other team has to keep an eye out for them, while they walk around the area. So the tagger team will jump out when someone passes to basically spook and try to tag them. And there’s several home bases that the runner teams try to get to. If the people you’re chasing get to home base before you catch them, you’re out!

Setting: Grand Paris Hotel (Closed for some renovations)

Marinette: (Has just explained the rules to the Science and Recess Classes) Alright, is everyone ready?

Marc: Yeah, seems simple enough.

(Most of the kids in the other two classes feel a chill down their backs all of a sudden. Did the room just get darker?)

Marinette: (Claps her hands together) Great! Now we’re going to go hide while you all wait here. Max will send out a group text when we’re ready to go, okay?

DJ: S-Sure. L-let’s do this!

(The lights in the room suddenly dim.)

Marinette: Perfect. This will be so much….fun. (The other classes wonder if they’ve gone nuts because Marinette, like the rest of her classmates, now has bright red eyes and razor sharp teeth, all bared in disturbing slasher smiles. (Like that family in Helluva Boss))

(The lights abruptly go out)

Simon: Okay, what the shit?!

(The lights flicker back on…and Bustier’s class has vanished.)

- - - - -

(Denise and Spinelli dive behind a desk, breathing heavily)

Spinelli: Do…do you think…we lost her?

Denise: Yeah, she couldn’t have seen us duck in here. She was too far behind!

(The two take a moment to get their bearings back…when the door cracks.)

Rose: …All around the mulberry bush…

Spinelli: (under his breath) Maledetto Inferno!

Rose: …The monkey chased the weasel…

Denise: (Biting their lip to keep from making any noise)

Rose: …The monkey thought ‘twas all in fun….

(Things go silent for a couple minutes after that, leading them to decide Rose must have left)

Denise: (Slowly beginning to stand) I…I think we’re-

Rose: (Popping up over the desk) POP GOES THE WEASEL!

Denise/Spinelli: *Scream*

- - - - -

(Jean and Austin T duck into a room that seems to be empty, dropping down to the floor as they breathe heavily)

Austin T: Okay, not gonna lie. Not having too much fun right now. God, who knew they could get so intense about a game?!

Jean: It’s punishment, Aus. The actions of my class have wrought demons unto the earth. (Looks around) It looks like we’ll at least be safe here for a-

(An ominous giggle sounds through the darkness, and the boyfriends slowly turn to look, seeing Mylene sitting atop a dresser with a threatening, sharp-toothed smile.)

Mylene: Well, hello. You two seem like you’re lost.

Jean: N-now, Mylene, let’s not…I’m your friend, remember?

Mylene: Oh, Jean…in this game, there are no friends across enemy lines. As of this moment…(she smiles, showing off her sharp teeth as her eyes glow crimson) You’re prey.

(Jean and Austin T slowly back away from her…only to bump into a large, solid object behind them.)

Mylene: Oh, there you are, love! Right on time! I could use some help dealing with these two.

Austin T: You know what, I think we have a prior engagement, so we should really- (grabs Jean’s hand and they bolt from the room)

(Deciding to give them at least a small chance, Mylene and Ivan share a quick kiss before donning matching malevolent, shark-toothed grins.)

- - - - -

(Zoé and Austin A hide under a counter in the kitchen. A strange scraping sound, like nails against metal echoes through the dark space)

Chloe: Zoe~… Where are you, sis? I just wanna talk! I’m not mad that I’m still finding paint in my hair which I told you to avoid! (Psychotic cackle) Come on oooout~…

(The two blondes hold their breath, praying for the surprisingly ominous sound of high heels to pass them by. Suddenly it stops.)

Austin A: (Whispered through his teeth) Understand that if she finds us, I’m bolting and leaving you for dead. You’re the one she’s after.

Zoe: (hissed under her breath) Not if I shove you at her to buy myself time, asshole.

(At that moment, the table is upended, landing with a clatter several feet away)

Chloe: Survival Tip 1. When the person you’re hiding from is in the room, you should probably keep your big mouth shut, hon. (Manic giggle)

- - - - -

(Marc and Austin Q walk slowly around the hotel’s storage area, shining their flashlights into any potential hiding places. Suddenly, Austin Q sounds like he’s choking)

Marc: What? What is it? (He looks where the redhead’s flashlight is pointing, and freezes)

(In dripping red paint on the wall are the words “I SEE YOU.” And just below that, Nathaniel sits, giving them an intense, crimson eyed stare.)

Nathaniel: Hello, Rainbow. (Jumps down from his perch)

Marc: Hi, N-Nath…

(The redhead vanishes into the shadows, before reappearing right behind them.)

Nathaniel: Boop. (Lightly taps the back of Marc’s head) You’re out, babe.

Marc: W-wait, that’s it?

Nathaniel: For you. (Turns to Austin Q, his eyes glowing scarlet and pointy teeth bared in a grin) Run.

Austin Q: SHIT! (Turns and flees)

- - - - -

(Simon and Gerard are slowly making their way down a dark, empty hallway)

Simon: Do…do you feel like someone’s watching us?

Gerard: Yeah, it’s like there’s a…presence…

(Suddenly, their phones scream, scaring the crap out of both of them.)

Simon: Okay, I don’t remember changing my notif to that.

(They pick their phones and to their confusion, they both have a text from an unknown number. Hesitantly, they open them at the same time, and their screens go black, glitching as the words ‘LOOK BEHIND YOU’ appear in staggered white block letters.)

Simon: What the…? (He and Gerard turn around…and standing less than fifteen feet behind them is Max, giving them a Cheshire Cat grin as his eyes glow bright red.)

- - - - -

(Lacey and Austin B slowly inch their way around the wall of the hotel’s main ballroom)

Lacey: Okay, we’re almost to home base. I saw the marker on the other side.

Austin B: Sure, as long as no one sees us out in the open. Like we currently are. Seriously, we have NO cover.

Lacey: Just shut up and keep moving, Boulet. The ballroom is wide open, it’s not like anyone can sneak up o-

(With a loud crack, a fist with a familiar sweatband smashes the window above, blowing glass over their heads)

Kim: (Pops his head through the shattered window) HOWDY, FUCKERS!

Austin B: Oh, HELL NO! What the shit?!

- - - - -

(Ismael and Kendra look up at the ceiling, where loud bangs and clatters sound from every possible direction.)

Ismael: She’s in the vents. She’s in the GODDAMN VENTS! How did she even get up there?! These are vaulted ceilings!

Kendra: I have no fucking clue, but I think we better run. Maybe if we split and go different directions, we can-

Alix: (Pops out of a vent just above their heads) SURPRISE, BITCHES!

- - - - - -

(Reshma and Mindy back slowly through the darkness of the room they just ducked into, closely watching the door to make sure no one is going to follow them.)

Mindy: Do you think anyone saw us come in here?

Reshma: No, I don’t thi- (She bumps into something)

(Slowly, the two turn around…and there’s Juleka, hanging upside down from the ceiling, with a sharp fanged grin and mercury-colored eyes.)

Juleka: Boo.

(Reshma and Mindy shriek)

- - - - -

(Cosette and Gia are hiding in a supply closet, watching a stream on the school blog)

Alya: (Over the phone) What’s up, y’all? So my class is kicking ass in a game of Shadow Crawler, and I think my prey is hiding in this very room. Cosette? Gia? Maybe you’d like to say hello?

Gia: Well, at least we know she’s in the wrong room. We would hear if she was in the room with us.

Cosette: Y-yeah.

Alya: Oh, I wouldn’t count on it. (The two look down at their phones and see themselves on the livestream. They then look up and see Alya giving them a sharky smile, twiddling her fingers in a little wave.)

- - - - - -

(Back in the room where the game started, all the defeated classes are rounded into a corner, tied back to back with…were these jump-ropes? Must have come from the Hotel Gym. Thoroughly unnerved, they begin to exchange conversation.)

Aurore: Marinette got me and DJ. She set up a fucking cage rig. We somehow didn’t see the X…

DJ: And next thing we know, a full-on iron cage crashes down and we’re trapped!

Mireille: Adrien came down the fucking wall! Like a spider!

Lotta: He’s supposed to be sunshine personified, not a demon! Since when does he speak Aramaic?!

(All of a sudden, the lights go out again. When they come back on, before them are the akuma class, still with those unnerving, demonic grins.)

Marinette: Well, well, well…it seems there’s no more prey left to hunt….our game is at its end.

Ismael: Alright, you guys made your point! Now…what are you planning to do with us?

(The akuma class tilts their heads in confusion)

Kim: Dude, what are you talking about? Game’s over.

Alya: Yeah, we- Wait. Omigod, did you guys think we were gonna hurt you?!

(The Science and Recess classes all exchange looks, before the Akuma Class all burst out laughing.)

Mylene: Guys, it’s just a game! Do you think we’re psycho or something?

Alix: A game that we just dominated! Score for the most badass class at DuPont! Whoo!

(Her classmates all cheer)

Marinette: Victory pastries on me!

Adrien: Sorry if we freaked you guys out a little. Markov, you can untie them now. (The little robot sets to doing this.) Besides, now we’re even! And we’ll all have fun and play games or sports like friends, like normal people. And nobody will get too intense! …Right?

(For the briefest of moments, the Akuma Class’s crimson eyes and dagger-like teeth return, prompting rapid affirmations from the other two classes)

Rose: (Cheerful) Great! Well, see you guys!

(The akuma class leaves)

Well, that happened. Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[dahliarose2]

KINDRED SPIRITS - PART 1

summary: you recall finding comfort in daryl on your first night in alexandria, as you struggle to settle in. presently, daryl returns furious following denise's death and in turn, finds comfort in you

daryl dixon x reader

author's note: this is part 1 of a multiple-part series. It starts during season 6, episode 14, just before the negan line-up. hope you enjoy! :) let me know if you want to be on the taglist

Since your group had arrived in Alexandria, some had settled in quicker than others. You were one of the skeptics, refusing to let your guard down especially after what had happened in Terminus. You were happy, having your own house, your own bed, your own kitchen, for the first time since all of this started; you SHOULD be happy. It gave you a taste of what civilisation used to be like and it felt surreal. But the taste was bittersweet and you couldn't ignore it

The first night...

You stood in the middle of the bedroom, eyes tracing their way around the room to take in all of your surroundings. The pristine white walls, the expertly carved, oak bedframe, the fitted sheets tucked in perfectly at every corner, the duvet laid across the mattress with not a crease in sight. Your fingers fiddled with one another as you bit the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you'd had since your childhood. You weren't quite sure how to adjust to this, constantly feeling like there was something not quite right about this whole place. 'It's just your nerves. This place is perfect for the group, perfect for you. A new start,' you thought to yourself, letting yourself daydream as you continued to chew your cheek,

Suddenly, a creak to your right snapped you back to reality, as you spun quickly, grabbing the small knife from your boot that you had hidden from the Alexandrians, pointing it torwards the door. To your surprise, Daryl was stood in the doorway, resting his hands on the sides of the doorframe, flinching back very slightly at the appearance of your knife a metre from his face. Your posture slackened as his face came into a view, letting out a sigh as you chucked the knife carelessly onto the dresser, letting it clatter against the wood,

"Sorry," you said nervously, flashing an awkward smile as he gave you a slight nod in response, still staying where he was. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not meaning for it to come out in such an interrogatory way, immediately regretting it as soon as the words exited your mouth. Daryl didn't seem to mind much and before you could say anything he answered. "You left the front door unlocked. I called your name but y'didn't answer. Just wanted to make sure you were alright," he replied gruffly, letting the last part come out as more of a whisper, but you heard, and he knew you did,

Your heart warmed slightly, as your fingers began to fiddle once again. "Sorry I was uh, I was just in a world of my own," you said with a soft, nervous laugh, but as you gazed back up at him, his face remained stoic and you knew that he didn't believe you. That was his way of telling you to keep talking. Your laugh stopped as you looked to bed once again, before letting out a small sigh. "I just, I just don't think I'm used to this sort of thing yet. It's too much, too soon," you spoke quietly, still looking around the room with a saddened look. When he didn't say anything, you continued. "I'm sorry, I probably sound so ungrateful right now-" you laughed, bringing one of your hands to your forehead, rolling your eyes at yourself before he spoke again,

"Nah, I get it. You're not ungrateful," he said quickly, disproving whatever you were about to say. He stayed silent for a moment, but you waited, not speaking, knowing sometimes that he needs a minute to choose what he wants to say. You looked up at him patiently as he struggled to make eye contact, scratching the back of his head. "I uh, I've felt the same way since we got here. Everyone's goin' round like they're freshly primped ponies or somethin'," he said scoffing, as you let out a laugh. He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face at the sound, watching as you giggled,

"Anyways, you don' need to explain yourself. Not to me," he declared assuredly, much more confident as he spoke, the small smile he had still present as your laughter died down, mirroring his expression. "Thanks Daryl," you replied gratefully, struggling to keep your smile from growing, not wanting him to think you were weird for smiling so wide at such a small statement; but it wasn't small, not to you. Even since before the prison, you had always felt safe with Daryl and you hoped he knew that; God, you hoped he knew that. Before you could say anything else, Daryl coughed deeply, removing his hands from the doorframe,

"'M glad you're alright," he replied. Silence fell over the room as you chewed the inside of your cheek once again, wanting to say something else; anything. You opened your mouth to speak, but Daryl's eyes went slightly wider than normal, standing up straighter, looking almost scared. "I uh I better go. See ya around," he muttered quietly, as he turned around making his way down the stairs before you could reply. Your heart fell as you thought the very worst. 'He couldn't get away from me quick enough,' you thought to yourself, as you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to push them back down,

You paced the room, cursing yourself for being an idiot, wondering why he had changed his demeanor so quickly. You weren't able to think about it for too long as you noticed how dark it was out by now, voting to get into bed. This was your first night on something softer than forest moss in months. You pulled on a pair of pyjamas that had been left in the dresser as you pulled back the covers before settling yourself in the bed. You closed your eyes forcefully, wriggling in the bed in an attempt to find a comfortable position. You let out an angry groan as you tossed yourself onto your right side, then your left until you were sprawled on your back, glancing over at the clock, eyes widening in shock as you realized you had been tossing and turning for 2 hours already,

You took the pillow bringing it over your face, letting out a frustrated shout before throwing it out of the bed, deciding there were too many cushions. You lay back down again, hearing the empty silence that came from the house, as your heart quickened, hating the feeling. This had been the first time since the prison that you hadn't been at least a a few inches from the group. A thought popped into your head and before you could stop yourself, you were out of your bed, shoes on your feet, and a blanket pulled around your body as you opened your front door. Your feet led you before your brain could even stop you as you wound up at a front door, shivering slightly from the cold air that blew, taking a deep breath as you knocked on the door a few times,

You stood there, waiting a few seconds as you moved your feet in place, trying to move to generate warmth somehow. The sudden realization of you were and the few moments you had waited there dawned on you, as your nerves grew. You turned on your heel, descending quickly down the porch steps before you heard a click and a voice calling out. "Y/N?" the voice spoke loudly, as your heart and feet both halted in unison, craning your body to see Daryl standing confused in the doorway, shirtless of all things. You tried your best to ignore the latter, grateful for the cold breeze now being the false 'reason' that you were blushing,

You stared dumbly for a minute as his tired eyes took in at the sight of you on the porch, blanket slung around your shoulders as you shivered. "I uh, I must've sleptwalked I'm sorry," you stammered, laughing nervously, as you waved your hand in an 'I'm fine' motion, mentally cringing at your stupid excuse that you had blurted out. "Y/N-" he said groggily, still tired as you realized even more that it was a bad idea to come here. 'You woke him up. Great, just great,' you thought, mentally scolding yourself. "I'm okay really. Go back to sleep. I um I'm sorry I woke you up-" you interrupted him, but it wasn't long before he had interrupted you right back,

"Y/N!" he exclaimed more forcefully than he had meant to sound. You went silent, eyes shooting open as you got a shock by his change of usually monotone voice. It was only then you had realized that through you rambling, he had been calling your name and you didn't even hear him. His eyes softened slightly, almost apologetic, before they hardened again. "C'mere," he mumbled, waving his hand towards you. You opened your mouth to protest, but as you looked at his face, he clearly wasn't taking no for an answer as you shut your mouth again,

You walked up the steps, still cold, as you flashed a nervous smile at him before he shut the front door behind the two of you. Before you even said anything, he knew what you wanted, reading you immediately. "Y'can stay here," he declared, as you stared up at him dumbfounded before snapping out of it. "Thanks Daryl," you murmured, with an appreaciative glance as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you to shield yourself from the embarrassment you felt and from the cold,

"I'll be out of your hair tomorrow morning, first thing, I promise-" you blurted rushedly, before he interrupted you again, something you both seemed to be getting too fond of. "I uh I meant you can stay here, for good. Like permanent," he started, nervously, "if ya wanted. Or whatever." He shrugged nonchalantly as his heart beat in his chest from the impulsive offer, mostly beating fast awaiting your reply. You gazed at him in shock, before bringing yourself back to reality, not wanting him to read your surprise as a bad thing as you could already see in his eyes, he was second-guessing himself from your prolonged silence and lack of reply,

"I'd really like that," you beamed, trying to act as nonchalant as him about the whole thing. "Are you sure?" you insisted, wanting to make sure he could back out if he said it without thinking. "Yea, m'sure. I mean it's not like it ain't big enough," he joked quietly, as you laughed at his matter-of-fact joke, as he looked around at the house. Comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you just stared at one another, your laughter dying down. Again, he shook his head slightly, breaking your gaze as he put his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Plus I uh, I dunno how to work anything in there," he confessed almost bashfully with a smirk, pointing his finger towards the kitchen, full of different gadgets that you hadn't even seen before the apocalypse,

You snickered at his confession as you stifled a hearty laugh. "What's so funny? So what, I need help turning on the stove," he quipped, no malice in it, as he defended his lack of knowledge on kitchen appliances. You smiled at him, a genuine one. "Well I think I can at least help you with that, Mr. Dixon. Epecially because of your hospitality," you joked, smirking up at him as he scoffed at your pet name and your teasing, before leaning over to ruffle your hair, his small way of showing his affection as you grimaced funnily at your hair in your face, slapping his hand away playfully,

"Come on, let's get you set up," he said, as you followed him up the stairs. Soon you were getting into the bed, feeling much safer with someone else in the house, but not just anyone; Daryl. "I left ya a towel right there in case you wanna have a shower or somethin'," he soothed, sending you a nod as you cosied up, before walking out the door. "Daryl," you called out, sitting up in the bed slightly, as he halted stepping back so you were in his line of vision again. "Hm?" he asked, as he stood there. "Thank you," you said thankfully with a smile, before shaking your head nervously, "not just um for the towel. I mean, for letting me stay.. for everything,"

Daryl shrugged, sending you a small smile, "it's nothin'. G'night," he assured, shutting the door gently. 'It's not nothing though, it's everything. You're everything,' you thought to yourself as you settled in the bed, falling asleep quickly upon hearing the sounds of Daryl getting into bed and coughing next door to your room, his movements alone letting you know that you were safe,

Now...

You and Daryl had been staying together since that very first night. You both had grown even closer. You walked down the porch making your way towards Sasha who was standing against one of the other houses. "Hey Sash. Everything okay?" you greeted happily, before seeing her disdained expression. "Daryl, Rosita and Denise got ambushed on their run by Dwight and some of the other Saviors," she explained. Your breathing quickened as your mind went to the worst case scenario. "Are-are they okay?" you asked with worry as she gave you a saddened look. "Denise didn't make it. Dwight got her," she informed dejectedly as your heart sank at the fact that she was gone, dreading to think of Tara's reaction once she got back from her run,

Your next thought was immediately to check on Daryl, and Sasha knew this by the way your head whipped around scanning the area. "Daryl's in the graveyard patch with Carol, burying Denise," Sasha answered your thoughts before you could even ask the question. "Thanks Sasha," you replied softly, giving her an appreaciative nod, before holding her hand gratefully, going to let go to see Daryl. However, she didn't let go of your hand, pulling you back slightly as you turned back towards her confused, wondering what was wrong. Sasha's face was serious, but still full of sorrow,

"Daryl is very tense right now, he wouldn't speak to anyone when he got back and when Abraham tried to talk to him he tried to punch him before Glenn intervened. Just be careful. I think you're the only one who even has the chance to talk to him right now," Sasha advised, smiling at you lightly. Your confused expression disappeared as you nodded in understanding, smiling at her gently, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before heading towards the graveyard. Just as you were about to turn the corner, you bumped straight into a fuming Daryl and let out a gasp, as his hands reaching out instinctively to grab your forearms saving you from a fall,

You looked at him, instantly seeing what Sasha meant. He was furious, but you knew behind that, he wasn't angry, he was upset. You gazed into his eyes with a pained expression at his tormented expression. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he dropped his hands from your arms muttering an angry "no," as he stormed away from you. You weren't surprised. When Daryl got upset, he shut himself off until he had suppressed everything. You followed him back to the house, finding him in the kitchen swinging open the cabinets, hand landing on a bottle of whiskey before downing a few gulps,

"Daryl-," you began softly, before he put the alcohol back in its cupboard. "Not now," he stated gruffly, not even looking at you as he tried to pass by you to go to the front door. You weren't giving up that easy as you grabbed his bicep, strong enough to stop him in his tracks but soft enough for him to know you meant him no harm. "Listen to me," you started, trying to find a happy medium between a soft voice and a stern one. He still refused to look at you as your eyes bore into him making it increasingly harder for him. His chest rose and fell quickly as you could practically feel his rage emanating off of his body,

You let him have a moment, both of you still in the same position as your fingers now instinctively brushed up and down his forearm to calm him slightly. As his breathing slowed very slightly, you began to speak. "Whatever happened back there, was not your fault-" "Yes it was! I let my guard down. I'm a tracker and I let my guard down for God's sake. They were right there and I didn't even see 'em," he yelled, though you both knew his anger wasn't directed at you. Rather the opposite, you were glad he was even telling you this, as he usually voted to stay silent,

"Daryl, it was not your fault-" you stated again softly, meaning every word, before he shouted again, "No. You're not listening to me," he tugged his arm from your grasp, not feeling like he deserved your comforting touch, not after what he had just let happen. Your hand retracted, but you stayed where you stood. "She died because of me. I should've- I should've been looking around. I let my guard down for one second and look what happened. I never should've let her come. I was stupid. I was an idiot-" he ranted, pacing the floor, still not looking at you,

"Daryl!" you yelled, as he halted his steps and his shouting to look at you. If you looked close enough, you could almost see his eyes blow up in surprise at your rare outburst. You never usually yelled, but you needed to this time. You realized that his gaze had now softened as he looked at his feet like a lost puppy, embarrassed as he clenched his jaw. It was your turn now, as you stepped torward him, as he fought the urge to move away from you. You placed your hands on both sides of his face bringing his gaze towards you as you felt tears sting your eyes at the sight of his grief,

"It wasn't. your. fault," you stated forcefully, but the care still evident in your voice. He tried turning his face away but you wouldn't let him, needing him to truly hear your words. "You did everything you can. You DO everything you can, for everyone, all the time. Hell, you let me move in with you for crying out loud. Even though I know you like your alone time and your own space from people," you rambled loudly, a few tears spilling now. 'You're different,' he wanted to say, but he didn't, he couldn't. "You did that because you do whatever it takes to protect this group. You DO protect this group, every day, on countless occasions. We would all be dead if it weren't for you," you raved, breathless from your rambling as Daryl could do nothing but listen and watch you,

"So don't sit here for one second and think that you could do more for this group, Daryl Dixon. Don't you dare think you've ever led us wrong. I won't let you," you finished, your shouting turning to soft talking, as you looked at him, catching your breath. For once, he didn't let him hold himself back. He took a step forward quicker than you could even realize, a hand on your cheek pulling your lips toward his. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what was happening, and before you could respond, his lips had left yours and he was now looking at you, ashamed. "'M sorry," he blurted out, his gaze hardening once again,

You launched yourself forward wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back tenfold, kissing him for every kiss you wish you initiated but hadn't, kissing him for every time you had ever been thankful for him. It was his turn to be surprised as he slowly brought his hands to your waist tenderly placing them on your hips, scared to hurt you. Eventually, you both broke away, seeing his soft gaze, relief washing over his features. You couldn't help but laugh at what just happened. "Well that was nice," you said nervously, your cheeks flushed red from your rambling earlier and from the shock of what had just happened,

Daryl smiled at you, scratching his head nervously. "Yeah it was," he responded, trying to contain his happiness but failing. "I guess uh, you could move into my room now if you wanted," he muttered quietly, surprising even himself at the bold move. "Yeah I guess I could," you teased, shrugging your shoulders dramatically as he scoffed. Daryl turned his head looking out the window at the front gate of Alexandria. In the comfortable silence, you reached your hand out, linking your pinky with his, knowing what he was thinking about,

"Don't leave. Please. Don't do anything stupid," you pleaded as he looked at you silently for a moment. "Not goin' anywhere," he assured as he squeezed your pinky lightly with his as you smiled both of you voting to go upstairs, as it started getting dark outside, seeing a few lights in the other houses going out. You both got in the same bed, miles away from each other given the sheer size of the bed itself. Your bodies tensed as you were too scared to even move. 'Why are you scared to move closer? You kissed for God's sake,' you scolded yourself, trying to reason with the ball of butterflies in your stomach that kept you frozen in place,

Little did you know, Daryl who was facing the opposite way to you, was thinking and feeling the exact same way. You both lay there, not even a breath being heard. Eventually, after enough deliberation, Daryl coughed gruffly. "Do you uh, do you maybe wanna-" "Yep," you answered abruptly, as you both simultaneously turned around to face one another. Daryl made the first move of laying down on his back before waving his hand in a motion to tell you to come closer. You happily obliged, nerves calming as you moved to lay your head comfortably on his chest,

You could feel that he was still tense, so you pushed past your nerves to bring one hand up to trace circles and lines on his chest. This clearly helped as you felt him relax beneath you, breathing a little easier the both of you. "'M sorry, 'm not really good with this shit," he confessed, as you both chuckled at both of your antics. You lifted your head slightly to look at him. "It's okay," you whispered comfortingly, "we'll take it slow." You knew he needed a bit more time to process things in general and you were happy to go as slow as he needed. You wanted him to be comfortable,

After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep, he carefully placed his hand on your head, rubbing soothing motions on your hair, helping the both of you to relax as you eventually got closer and closer to one another. You smiled as it hit you at what had happened today, how you've been feeling for months, years, about him, what you were now, despite not knowing what that was just yet,

Daryl awoke the next morning looking to see you laying beside you. He took your arm gently that was laying across his stomach, placing it carefully on the bed before getting up. He gazed at you apologetically before looking out the bedroom door at the front gate of Alexandria like he had done the night before, and then back at you. He pulled his clothes on, picking up his crossbow that rested against the wardrobe before staring at your sleeping form, as he walked over to you. He wasn't sure what to do, leaning down, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before retracting quickly as he walked towards the door, looking back at you one more time,

"'M sorry, Dwight's gotta pay," he murmured regretfully, to you who couldn't even hear him. Before he knew it, he was on his bike, driving towards the gate, opening it himself, much to the dismay of Rosita who was on watch. 'I'll be back before she's even up,' he attempted to assure himself for leaving. Meanwhile, you had woken up to see him gone, once again, your mind running away with itself, thinking that maybe he second thoughts about last night. Your heart sank as you looked down at the empty bed. ''M not goin' anywhere,' played over and over in your head as you pulled your clothes on, fighting back the tears that threatened to force their way out. You walked out to see Rick and the others loading up the RV,

"Hey, what's going on?" You asked, as you jogged over to where Rick and Abraham stood. "Maggie's sick. She's getting worse," Rick explained as you immediately began to worry. "I don't understand. Is it the baby? It's not supposed to come yet," you panicked. "She'll be okay. We need to get her to the Hilltop," he assured, packing the last of things into the RV. "Okay, well I'm coming. You got the room anyway," you countered, gesturing to the RV, before moving to get in, slinging your rifle over your shoulder, before Rick's hand stopped you. "No, we need you here," Rick insisted, giving you a serious look,

You sighed loudly. "Rick, usually I would listen. You know I would. But Daryl is gone and I don't know where he went and I need to find him. So I'm coming. Maybe we meet him on the way," you argued, not taking Rick's orders this time. Rick thought for a moment, before nodding. "Fine. But Daryl is gone to kill Dwight apparently, so I don't know if we're gonna find him. The others went after him though," Rick maintained, moving his arm so you could step into the RV to see a sick Maggie, as your face saddened,

You were relieved at least, knowing where Daryl was gone and that the others were with him. And for the fact that he didn't leave because he was regretting the kiss from the night before. You sat beside Maggie, rubbing her arm softly as you held a cold wet rag to her forehead, attempting to bring down her fever. "We ready?" Abraham asked, as we all nodded in agreeement driving away from Alexandria and towards the Hilltpp

PART 2 POSTED ON MY MASTERLIST (IN BIO) ;) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

TAGLIST:

[betweenthings2]

30 for november prompts pretty pretty pretty please :> no problem if u dont want to though 🙂‍↕

Thank you for the ask!! I apologize for not having this up in November but the December prompts are here =)

November prompt 30- A twin bed

This is stupid, George thinks as he knocks on Matty's front door. He should turn around and go home. Just because Matty wasn't in school doesn't mean anything's wrong--at this point Matty isn't in school more than he is--but he hasn't answered George's texts and Matty always answers George's text, even if he doesn't have anything to say, he'll send something back. Denise answers the door before George can make up his mind to turn and leave.

"Hi, um, is Matty here?" George asks, a little hesitant. "He hasn't answered any texts or anything and um," George pauses.

"He's ill," Denise says kindly when George pauses.

"Oh. Could I maybe, um," George pauses again, "could I maybe say hi really quick?"

"Sure," Denise agrees, stepping to the side to let George into the house. "He's in his room, just be quiet."

George nods and leans down to untie and take off his shoes. Straightening back up, he adds, "Thanks."

"Of course," Denise says.

She says it like there's no world in which George wouldn't turn up after school asking after Matty, like she knows something George doesn't. George finds that a little bit odd, but he doesn't dwell on it, just heads to Matty's room. The door is closed, so he knocks gently and when he doesn't hear anything, carefully opens the door, to find the room almost pitch dark. The blackout curtains are drawn and all the lights are off, even the fairy lights that Matty managed to hang around the room once when they were both stoned. Matty is curled up in bed, blankets pulled up to his chin and looking a little bit pale and sickly, and he quickly closes his eyes and tenses a bit at the light from the hallway.

"Hey," George says quietly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Your mum said you're ill."

Matty relaxes a bit when the door closes, even thought the quite click of the latch makes him flinch a bit, and gives a tiny nod. "Migraine," he mumbles. "Bad one."

Matty has started getting migraines, George recalls--he remembers one weekend they had plans but Matty had woken up in the early hours of Saturday morning on the edge of tears then spend the rest of the weekend curled up in George's bed, flinching at the slightest sound. A migraine had been his explanation then, too.

"I'll go," George offers quietly, "let you have some peace and quiet. I was just, well, a little worried."

"'bout me?" Matty asks. "That's sweet."

"I care about you," George responds. "Feel better, ok?"

Matty hums as if to agree, but when George turns to go, hand on the doorknob, he says, "Wait. Don't go?"

George turns back to see Matty moving over in bed to press himself against the wall. "You want me to stay?" George echoes.

Matty gives another tiny nod. "Lay down with me?"

George pauses. Is this something they do, he wonders, are he and Matty the kind of friends that lay in bed together? They are, he knows they are, they're the kind of friends that have no boundaries, the kind of friends who are a package deal, the kind of friends who sometimes make out when they're stoned, they're the kind of friends who do things that friends very much do not do. They're more than just friends, if George is being honest, but do they do this?

"You don't have to," Matty mumbles, "but there's a pair of your sweats in the dresser and that shirt I took from you ages ago."

George can't say no. He's never really been able to say no to Matty, so he changes from his school uniform into the sweats and t-shirt Matty had directed him to, then slides into bed, careful not to jostle Matty too much.

The twin bed isn't big enough for both of them. It's really not big enough for one of them, but Matty once explained the he likes it, that it feels like an island, safe in the midst of a confusing life. And, Matty had once added, sleepy and a little bit out of his mind, it forces them to be very, very close when George spends the night. George won't argue with that, not when he likes being close to Matty more than he likes most things.

Matty puts his head on George's chest and pulls the blankets up over them, shifting just a bit to get comfortable. When he is, he stills, but stays quiet, breath coming in even puffs against George's chest. Matty is so, so much, George thinks. He has a teenaged awkwardness and he's tiny, despite having hit a growth spurt last year, but he's also so much. Sometimes he'll say something just so or motion with a cigarette in such a way that George can almost see the man he'll be rather than the boy he is and it makes George's chest feel oddly tight, like he's on the brink of something too big, like Matty is too much for him to handle.

Now, though, Matty seems small, small and unwell, clinging to George his bed has become the ocean rather than an island. George isn't so sure if he's allowed to, but he runs very gentle fingers through Matty's hair, offering softness and care. Matty lets out a contented little sigh and seems to snuggle impossibly closer, so George does it again and again and again. In that moment, George realizes he'd do anything for Matty.

[lahija-del-molinero]

Josefa Ortíz de Domínguez II

DENISE Dresser : "intelectual" mexicana, clasista, racista discriminadora, fea persona pues 😒

[aliypop]

Anyway You Want Me: Chapter 2

(Rewrite)

Word Count: 3,531

Writers Note: I abandoned this fic, but I'm rewriting it now that I've expanded on Cecelia and Elvis, This is an au idea as stated last time! Well let us try this again

Warning: None so far except for language and historic language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: In 1953, in Memphis Tennessee, Cecelia and her mother Denise Valmos move to Shelby County as Her mother Calpurnia's Nashville home is going through renovations, but when asked to keep a low profile by her mother, Cecelia makes friends with the quirkiest, shy, yet charming kid in class, at least Friends is what she'd call them.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Taglist

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@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

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@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

Memphis, Tennessee, Saturday, May 1953

"Is it three yet?" Cecelia asked as she was in her bedroom brushing out her curls and adding a small victory roll, adding a flower to the side for good luck. Sure, the look was out of style, but she still appreciated the timeless look, 

"It's 2:40," Denise shouted back as Cecelia grinned. She was finally going to be hanging out with someone, a cool someone, a shy someone, but it was someone she could talk to and share her everything with. Taking her keys from off her dresser, she was ready to go. 

"See you later, mother!"

"See you later, and be safe!" 

"I will!" Walking out the door, Cecelia passed her father, "Hi Daddy, bye Daddy..." Racing to her car, she got in and drove off, waving at the fans who were there for her parents. The life of being a child that no one exactly knew had any talents.  

"What's gotten into her?"

"A boyfriend." Denise rolled her eyes at her ex-husband, "You'd know that if you were in her life more." 

"Maybe if you weren't so busy with Sinatra-"

"Don't you go there..."

Elvis would be lying if he wasn't twiddling his thumbs with jobs at the electric company just to kill time today. His watch was reading 2:56, which meant his shift was almost over, and he could hang out with Cecelia. Elvis couldn't wait to see her, which was totally not weird because Elvis only knew her for two days, but she was cool enough for him to be excited about seeing her, right? Either way, he knew she was worth him hanging around. Pulling back up to the store, Elvis saw her pink car. His heart was pounding out of his chest as he saw Cecelia, wearing shorts and a striped shirt, leaning against the counter with the toned legs of a dancer, and, boy, was Elvis entertained. She had on heels. And a pink chiffon bow in her hair and Elvis wanted nothing more than to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings and say- 

"There you are! I was talking to this young lady here about electric wiring."

"Did you know that when the male goes into the Female, and they plug into each other, boom, we get lights!" Cecelia glanced at Elvis, acting as if she didn't know that. Meanwhile, he was thinking about a male and a female, but not lights.  

"Mhmm... I-I-I'll actually be right back." Elvis said as he went to freshen up. It wasn't like he was trying to impress Cecelia, Well, maybe a little, changing out of his work slacks. He had on a pair of black slacks and a white lace see-through button-up shirt with pink socks and his loafers. When he walked out, Elvis had hoped he would have taken Cecelia's breath away, but instead, he heard, "You look good, Pres."

"Thanks, Val, you uh ready to go?" 

"Yeah." Taking his keys, he opened her door, then his, as the two began their adventures,

 "So where to first, record shop, comic shop?"

"Surprise me," Cecelia said, taking a bit of a glance at him as he began to drive. He wanted to rest his hand on her thigh, but friends didn't do that. He just had to focus. 

"Music shop it is."

Music played on the radio as Cecelia hummed along. She could carry a tune, Elvis thought to himself as he listened. He didn't sing much unless it was at Church. Or his room or the stairs of his apartment complex. Other than that, he was a shy little thing,  

"So Cece..."

"Hmm?"

"You never did tell me where you moved from." 

"Well, sugar..." Elvis felt his heart pound when she said sugar. That southern drawl of hers was strong, a bit like Scarlet O'Hara but sweeter, "North Carolina, Originally born and raised, but then for three years I lived in Georgia, and that was like stickin your hand in a jar of hot peppers and rubbin your eyes afterward." she laughed as Elvis kept trying to focus on the road, but he had laughed with her too, 

"Sounds like it was hell."

"You've no idea, sugar." She smiled, applying her red lipstick, 

"So what about you? You don't exactly sound like a Memphian boy." She smirked as he blushed. It was back on him now, all the attention, 

"Well, I was born and raised in Tupelo, Mississippi," Elvis smiled as Cecelia grinned,

"That explains that heavy accent."

"Yours ain't light either,"

"I don't know what you're talkin bout." Cecelia playful nudged him as they parked at the music store, 

"Oh really, what do you call honey."

"Definitely not what you call it." She laughed at his adorable accent as he helped her out of the car, 

"And what do I call it."

"Hunneh..." she mumbled as he laughed with her,

"That's what I sound like?" He questioned as she nodded, 

Watching him walk to the comic store was like he was some star of importance, which to her he was. He had distinctiveness about him, but it was clear that he didn't notice it yet. When they walked in, Cecelia called to the guitars on the wall. Her medicine of choice was a Gretsch, but she didn't mind a Gibson. Or a Fender. 

"Do you play?" Elvis asked

"A little..." Cecelia said, a guitar pick in her mouth, trying to reach for one of the Gibson guitars on the top shelf.

"Mind if I..." Before Cecelia could respond, she was suspended mid-air and sitting on his shoulder,

 "Oh..." reaching for the guitar, she grabbed it, 

"Thanks, sugar. I mean, El, Pres." She was flustered by the actions before her.

"No problem. Cece with an E," He put her down. And he grinned a little bit. Her skin was actually really smooth, not that he was surprised, but it was a bonus. Sitting down, she strummed the guitar.

"Well, I don't care if the sun don't shine. I get my lovin' in the evening time. When I'm with my baby." Cecelia began to sing as she played the song with a more bluesy rock and roll feel. She had a jazz undertone, but to Elvis, it sounded like an Angel was singing to him and a guitar princess strumming with the way her fingers were on the fret playing. It was almost as if Cecelia were a pro, and the song Cecelia picked was a classic now sung by Dean Martin. 

Elvis was enchanted by her. But he couldn't be. Cecelia probably saw him as a friend anyway, and he'd been okay with that, even if his heart would simply ache from the confession.

"Do you play Pres..."

"El..."

"Elvis!"

"Hmm, sorry, I-I-I was thinkin." he stuttered as Cecelia blushed. Why was he so cute and innocent? She couldn't think of him like this. He was her friend, and he probably didn't feel the same.

"Oh, I was wondering if you played guitar."

"A little." He rubbed the back of his neck, "But how about the comic book shop?" he added. He wanted to save Beale Street for later in the afternoon when the lights started to come on, and the street really came to life, 

"I'd like that," putting the guitar down. The two then walked to the comic book store, 

"So, where'd you learn to sing and play like that!"

"Well, my mother. She sings, and my daddy. When he was around. Played guitar, then I learned the rest from B.B. King." She shrugged,

"A girl who enjoys good music."

"Good music, good food, and great SUPERMAN!" she rushed to the window as Elvis laughed, 

"Cece, wait up!"

"EL IT'S A NEW ISSUE."

"Superman nice... But" his eyes saw a Jay Garrick comic, he snuck off and picked it up as he showed her, all he heard was a gasp, 

"ELVIS YOU FOUND IT!"She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, a blush creeping on his face, 

"F-F-Found what?"

"The comic issue I've been lookin for! " 

"you're welcome!" there were eyes on them as Cecelia and Elvis both blushed, 

"A discount for your date there," Irene said. Irene was the daughter of the owner. She knew Elvis well, in the sense he'd buy his Captain Marvel Jr. comics here. 

"She's just a friend, Irene."

"Sugar, look what I found!

"Mhmm, a friend..." Irene smirked, "I'll ring that one up, too." she winked, walking toward the counter. 

"This one's gonna be legendary..." He looked at the comic book as she grinned, "Definitely legendary." They walked to the car to further their adventure. As they cruised down the street, the radio had been playing Dean Martins That's Amore, in which Cecelia had taken it upon herself to croon her entire heart out as Elvis as the test subject, 

"Y-You speak Italian..."

"Well, I've sung in German, French, Italian, and Spanish," she grins, "But Sometimes I speak French." 

"I-I-I-"

" Êtes-vous d'accord, Elvis?" Cecelia leaned in,

"I don't know what you just said. But hell, it sounded pretty." Elvis's brain was short-circuiting. If she was being a flirt, then he needed to get her back for it, too. 

"You think so. I've been a little rusty and haven't been to a French restaurant in a while..." She sighed,

"You live an interestin life, Cece." 

"I try to. Sometimes, I can never sit in one place. I have to be doing somethin. You know El. Like playing violin or singin or," Elvis was listening to her. She was passionate and energetic, a fast talker when she was excited, and he loved it. 

"Am I talking too much?"

"No, you're talkin just fine," opening her door, he took her hand and helped her out as she blushed. He was a gentleman, a good listener, who had a keen attention to detail, and soft yet slightly callused hands that she could admire. 

"So this is Beale Street..." She said to herself,

"Wait til you see it at 7 pm. It's only 5, so we got time to see whatever you want." 

"Hmm... Let's walk and get into some good trouble." She grinned as Elvis smirked,

"I'm beginin to really like you." he said, as Cecelia blushed, "As a friend."

"Me too, kid," she giggled. Ruffling up his hair as she laughed, 

"I-I- I ain't no kid, Cece, why I bet I'm older than you."

"When's your birthday, El," Cecelia smirked, stepping up to him,

"January 8th, 1935." he smirked as if he were right, and she would grovel at his feet and say she was, in fact, a kid, a mere worm, "What about you, huh,"

"January 7th, 1935." she grinned, 

"Damn it, guess you're the boss." He laughed as the two then came up towards a tailor shop. Elvis was standing at the window looking at the suits and the shoes, 

"Wanna go in?" Cecelia asked. Elvis looked a bit hesitant. He had always craved the look, though he knew he couldn't afford it much. But a man could dream.

"I can't afford much of anything in there..."

"Elvis Aron Presley, You are going in that store. You will try on whatever it is you want, so that way. You know what you'll want when you can," she smirked, taking him by the hand and dragging him through the doors. She was gutsy, and he liked it. Really, he loved it.

"Excuse me, but my friend here wants to try on..." Her eyes scanned the room for the pink suit that was in the window, "That fine suit right there, if you please." she smiled,

"Of course, Ms. If you'd follow me, sir."

"Cece..."

"Trust me, you'll look great." Cecelia smiled as she sat down in the waiting area, reading the men's fashion magazines and swooning at some of the men in them. She could hear Elvis in there having a bit of a ball and commotion over the experience, a snicker leaving her lips, 

"Cece little help here!" was all she heard,

"You'll be fine. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about!"She shouted back. She was on a page about Frank Sinatra and her mother when her concentration was taken off guard. 

"Well, Ms., what do you think?"

"Well...I..." The pink in the outfit brought out those electric baby blues, and the lace gave him this alluring, sultry feel. The pants gave him an essence that told him he could have anything he ever dreamed of, and suddenly, she was beginning to dream of him in broad daylight, 

"Well, Cece..." The sinister smirk on his face was doing something she'd never felt before,

 "Stand up straight..." she stood up, "Well, aren't you cookin' good lookin," Cecelia smirked, looking him up and down like one would inspect a car. 

"You really think so?" He asked as he danced a little in the outfit,

"Mhmm..." Her mind was racing, but they were just friends, "You could get any girl in that."

"You should get it for your boyfriend, Ms. We'll make up a fake invoice if you want to keep you two a secret..."The clerk smirked as both Cecelia and Elvis blushed,

"Oh no, we're just friends and just browsin' around, really," He then went back to the dressing room to change into something else. Cecelia couldn't contain the blush on her face when she saw him in another outfit, "Woah... you're a knockout." She smiled,

"We have a dress that compliments his suit." The clerk said. And Cecelia was in the dressing room, turning into a young woman rather than a young girl. She was wearing the latest dress in fashion, the Wiggle dress.

"Well, what do you think?" 

"I-I..." That was all Elvis could say. He short-circuited like a bad electric cable. There was no going back now. He was past a crush. He was in love. 

"You're beautiful."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah..." Elvis said as he went to get changed back into his clothes. Cecelia was tricky to read, but he knew he'd get the gist of her. Cecelia couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach, but maybe she was just hungry. The shop keepers shook their heads.They knew young love when they saw it, and that definitely was it.

"You hungry?"

"Hmm, I could eat, El." she took his hand. She waved the shopkeepers goodbye. They waved back and watched them leave until they were safe towards wherever they were going. 

"So the thing about me getting any girl..."

"You could in that outfit. You just gotta be confident, you know..." She paused. There in the cafe was an array of black skin dancing and singing, having a grand time while they were enjoying their burgers and fries, 

"We can eat here if you'd like." 

"YES!" this was the life she had missed, the life Elvis had always known. 

"Hey Elvis!" some teenage girls waved at him as he waved back. 

"Hey Mildred, Shirley, Rudy," he winked as they giggled, "Who's your friend."

"Cecelia Valmos." She introduced herself as they walked over and sat down, "

Oh girl, I love your hair!" one of the girls said as Cecelia grinned, 

"Thank you. I love yours, too!"

"She just moved here not too long ago." 

"You picked a good tour guide."Rudy said, "He's always here like he lives here," she chuckled, 

"Is that so."

"Girl, you should see E cut up a rug. He's like a white guy with a black soul." Shirley commented as Elvis blushed, "And when He sings..."

"Ladies, I'm right here." he blushed, getting embarrassed a bit. 

"I'll keep that in mind." she chuckled. The waitress then came by as she looked at saw Elvis, 

"Let me guess, cheeseburger, a milkshake, fries salted." she laughed, "And for you, dear?"

"Cheeseburger and a soda, please." 

"No fries?" Elvis asked,

"I'll just eat yours."

"Aw, a date?"

Elvis and Cecelia quickly shook their heads,

"We're just friends..." Cecelia said,

"For now, " the three girls had said as they went to dance with their boyfriends. Cecelia watched them as she then looked at Elvis, who was tapping his foot, 

"You wanna dance?" offering her hand out to him,

"Sure." Elvis took her hand as they went up to the jukebox. Let's have a Party was playing, and that's what Cecelia intended to do. The two were dancing together and laughing as it had been the most fun the two had been having. Pulling her close and spinning her around, he was impressed with her footwork. There had been a few girls he'd danced with, but this one, for once, could keep up. He then began doing his own thing as Cecelia watched his hips. She began to be mesmerized until she joined him. Swaying her hips as Cecelia danced around him, another guy took her by the hand as they began to do the Lindy Hop, flipping her over his shoulder as Cecelia laughed. He was impressed with her courage and how much of a fun time she was. 

"HEY E CATCH!" Bernard shouted as he spun Cecelia into Elvis's arms.

Elvis caught Cecelia as he dipped her, heart racing as she looked up at him, "Nice catch..." She said as Elvis blushed, "Nice, dancin." he then walked them both to their table. Sitting down, Cecelia and Elvis ate and talked as she took some of his fries, and he took some of her pickles from her burger, 

"So, has today been fun so far," Elvis asked as Cecelia sighed.

"I don't know, I mean..."

"Yes..."

"Well..."

"Cece..."

"I've been havin a blast!" she smiled. 

"Great, 'cause now I wanna show you the true Beale Street." he smiled, clutching his heart at her reaction. 

"Is this not the real..." walking outside. Cecelia saw the city lights. They felt more comforting than New York and brighter than Paris. They felt like home. Elvis could see the sparkle in her eyes as she was mesmerized by the scene, music from every street, people dancing, cars going by,

 "May I?"

"You may." Elvis took Cecelia's hand and walked with her across the street. Walking by other shops and bands. Cecelia could feel that this was where music truly lived. A group of musicians were playing as Elvis began to mumble under his breath and sing the words. Cecelia had tried to listen. 

"You know... You heard me sing..." Cecelia smirked,

"Yeah, I did..."

"it's your turn..." 

"Cece..."

"Please, Pres..."

"Cil..."

"Elvis... Elvis...Elvis." She cheered as he took a deep breath and sang along to the song. When he began to sing, it was like time stood still to try to catch up to him. He was lost in the music, dancing and almost nearly performing the song. When he had stopped, Elvis had noticed Cecelia's mouth completely wide open in shock.

"ELVIS ARON PRESLEY!!! WHY ARE YOU NOT ON THE RADIO!" Cecelia playfully shook him about. As he laughed, "Or on TV, people should have posters of you, they should have billions of your records!!" she grinned, 

"I could say the same about you," he smiled as Cecelia giggled. He was right, but she was right, too.

 "Yeah, but this is about you!"

"Well, Cil, I got terrible stage fright." He laughed, "I can't be no singer or actor with stage fright." he sighed,

"Yeah, you can. Many get nervous, too."Cecelia said as she got closer to him,

"I-I-I-I da-don't pronounce my W's right an..."

"So, you got the look. I mean, behind the lanky look and the choppy colored hair... There's a star." Cecelia backed away,

"Cil..."

"Imagine it, everyone screamin Elvis Presley!" she twirled, stumbling a bit as he caught her,

"Yeah... no," He laughed. Maybe if I played football or somethin, they should be cheerin your name." he smirked, lifting her up again on his shoulders, "Cecelia Valmos, the great guitar player, the amazing singer." he looked up at her as she looked down at him both their eyes meeting, it was electric.

"Elvis Presley, the great dancer! and mover of hips and remover of panties!" she joked as Elvis turned red,

"That don't sound half bad." he laughed with her, the two heading back to his car, 

"Elvis... Are you free tomorrow?"

"I got church an work, but after that..." 

"Wanna hang out again tomorrow?" Cecelia asked,

"Sure, we could go to a park or the library, maybe we could study at my place?"

"We could do that, I could make brownies as a snack," 

"It's a done deal then Cece," he smiled driving her to her car,

"See you tomorrow El."

"Same time?"

"Same time!"

Walking to her house, she was on cloud nine. She was in love, and her mother knew it. For every mother did, they all could remember that rush of joy the first time they fell head over heels in love, 

"How was it."

"We went comic book shopping. And to a music store, and dancing." She twirled around giggling, 

"Oh, mama, it was great." Elvis smiled as his mother watched the blush on his face get deeper.

"Are you gonna see her again?"

"When are you going to see him again?"

"Tomorrow, after church," She blushed,

[infowarsrzk0]

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Espejo Negro

Mensaje a Claudio X./óchitl: no le buigan al tigre 

stafflostubos

marzo 27, 2024 

 Por José Jaime Ruiz

@ruizjosejaime

@lostubosmty

Tigre, tigre, brillo ardiente/ en las selvas de la noche,/ ¿qué mano inmortal, qué ojo/ osó forjar tu terrible simetría? // William Blake

En marzo de 2018 el candidato de Morena a la Presidencia de la República, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, expresó durante su participación en la Convención Nacional Bancaria en la ciudad de Acapulco, Guerrero: “Yo tengo dos caminos después del 1 de julio: Palacio Nacional o Palenque, Chiapas. Si hay fraude entonces sí se soltará un tigre y no voy a detenerlo. Deseo con toda mi alma que las elecciones sean libres y limpias y que sea el pueblo el que decida quién será el próximo presidente”.

Seis años después las condiciones electorales son similares, Claudia Sheinbaum se encamina a un triunfo holgado, pero también ya enraizó la 4T en la estructura del país y se propicia la revolución de las conciencias a partir del ejercicio pedagógico de la Mañanera, las benditas redes sociales y el nuevo modelo educativo. Claudio X./óchitl y sus secuaces, promotores del golpe de Estado blando o técnico, voltean la moneda y aseguran que López Obrador prepara una elección de Estado y, por tanto, lo conducente es la anulación de los comicios.

Ante el montaje de la oligarquía corrupta y la oposición, AMLO dijo que la posible anulación de la elección del próximo 2 de junio sería un equivalente a un “golpe de Estado técnico”, aunque aseguró que el pueblo es mucha pieza.

“No se podría anular la elección, porque no hay ningún motivo. Pero, además, imagínense ustedes, toco madera. Sólo que la irracionalidad nos llevará a una situación extrema que sería equivalente a un golpe de Estado técnico. Pero, sería como soltar a un tigre. O a muchos tigres”.

“Ellos pueden estar tramando cosas, porque los corruptos a veces no piensan, traman; sin embargo, nuestro pueblo está muy, muy, muy politizado”, añadió.

La trama de la oligarquía corrupta ya trazó sus hilos.

El golpe de Estado técnico, para propiciar la anulación de las elecciones, se diseñó desde la DEA a partir de la calumnia de Tim Golden en ProPublica sobre el patrocinio del crimen organizado a las campañas electorales de López Obrador; las cajas de resonancia mediática encabezadas por Carlos Loret de Mola; el New York Times solapando la felonía tendenciosa; la compra millonaria de bots con los hashtags “narcopresidente” y “narcocandidata”; el intelectual del PRIAN, Jorge Castañeda, pidiendo intensificar la guerra sucia. Sabiéndose perdidos y sabiendo que tienen los dados cargados a su favor en el INE y los tribunales electorales, ahora pretenden anular su derrota con el insostenible argumento de “una elección de Estado”.

Escribe Denise Dresser en Reforma: “Llamémosla por su nombre, sin evasivas, sin volteretas verbales. La elección del 2 de junio será una elección de Estado. Una elección en la cual el partido-Gobierno ha desnivelado el terreno de juego, ha violado la legislación electoral, ha alterado la competencia en su favor, como en los viejos tiempos”.

El terreno sigue desnivelado, sí, pero a favor de la oligarquía corrupta y a favor de Claudio X./óchitl. A favor de la oposición se encuentra la DEA, los agentes de la CIA (Dresser, Castañeda, Riva Palacio…), el medroso INE que no investiga la guerra negra de los bots, pero sí castiga la libertad de expresión de AMLO, Atlas Network, los medios de comunicación tradicionales, activistas-empresarios ultras (Ricardo Salinas Pliego), la derecha internacional (Vox, el PP español, Cayetana Álvarez, Javier Milei), la jerarquía de la iglesia católica, los expresidentes Carlos Salinas de Gortari, Ernesto Zedillo, Vicente Fox, Felipe Calderón, los medios de comunicación internacionales…

“Habrá que reconocer los juegos verbales, las cortinas de humo, la manipulación mentirosa, la desmemoria que contribuye a virar la atención del aquí y el ahora”, exclama Dresser con razón al hacerse un ridículo harakiri. También Xóchitl habla de la anulación, pero invocando la violencia y la inseguridad.

Denise se pasea de la mano y por la calle de la comentocracia con Diego Fernández de Cevallos: “Cuando su Alteza Pequeñísima (alias Tartufo) afirma que las autoridades electorales preparan un ‘golpe de Estado técnico’, lo hace con diversos propósitos: (…) sus ataques a Xóchitl Gálvez están prohibidos por la ley y pueden ser determinantes para declarar la nulidad de los comicios y, en tal caso, se convocaría a nuevas elecciones”.

La oligarquía corrupta, la derecha, el conservadurismo, la oposición se inventan unas “elecciones de Estado” porque ya perdieron y es la única manera de intentar anular los comicios. No hay ni habrá ningún motivo para anular la elección tratando de dar un golpe de Estado técnico. Esa irracionalidad soltaría al tigre, muchos tigres. ��No le buigan porque es pior!

(José Jaime Ruiz: Escritor y periodista, es autor de los libros La cicatriz del naipe (Premio Nacional de Poesía “Ramón López Velarde”), Manual del imperfecto político, Caldo de buitre y El mensaje de los cuervos. Fue jurado y tutor del Sistema Nacional de Creadores de la Secretaría de Cultura en la especialidad de “Poesía”. Colabora en el periódico Milenio y dirige el periódico digital www.lostubos.com.)

Fuente:

Vía / Autor:

// José Jaime Ruiz

Etiquetas:

AMLO Andrés Manuel López Obrador Atlas Network Cayetana Álvarez Claudia Sheinbaum Claudio X. González Claudio X./óchitl DEA Denise Dresser Diego Fernández de Cevallos INE Javier Milei PRIAN Ricardo Salinas Pliego Xóchitl Gálve

Mensaje a Claudio X./óchitl: no le buigan al tigre Por José Jaime Ruiz Se inventan unas elecciones de Estado porque ya perdieron y es la única manera de intentar anular los comicios. Esa irracionalidad soltaría al tigre, muchos tigres. ¡No le buigan porque es pior!… pic.twitter.com/LlFuzVneJO

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   [VIDEO]    Sheinbaum no está preparada ante el riesgo de expulsión del T-MEC: Denise Dresser  

MxPolítico ►La entrada   <span class='fa fa-pen-nib' style='font-size:.6em;'></span> <span style='font-size:.5em;'>[VIDEO]  </span><br>  Sheinbaum no está preparada ante el riesgo de expulsión del T-MEC: Denise Dresser   se publicó primero en MxPolítico.◄ https://mxpolitico.net/