#latina writers

[leyllethecreator]

Writing Tip #1: never underestimate the power of ugliness

Never underestimate the power of ugliness.

Uglying up your prose can be just as powerful as prettying it up.

Using words like bleeding, vomiting, to describe basic actions like water running out of a faucet can add a sense of violence or agony to a scene:

"Plunging his hands into the ice cold water vomiting from the sink..."

"Plunging his hands into the ice cold water bleeding from the sink..."

Using very ugly imagery to describe normal things can also work well in tandem with using prettied up (especially when it's exaggeratedly so) imagery for ugly things.

"Plunging his hands into the ice cold water vomiting from the sink, he wipes the last delicate dribbles of golden bile from his lower lip"

[sapphicchickens]

essay by sof sears on their substack “heartmouth” (heartmouth.substack.com)!!!

[lolamkelly]

Selfie-ish

Whenever I ask someone to take a picture of meThey never get the composition rightThey don’t adjust the settings to best suit my features under the given lightingThey don’t capture my full lengthThey don’t capture my smileThe picture is blurryAnd my feet are cut offMy face is distortedAnd my eyes are closed They click the button whenI sneezeI blinkI fallBut not when my eyes are openWhen my smile…

[bog-bitch]

“The Raincoat” by Ada Limón, 2018

[luvaaikoo]

𝘣𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱, nicholas alexander chavez

pairing - nicholas chavez & latina!reader (but anyone can read)

nicholas in his youtube era

ᥫ᭡

nicholas couldn't help but shake his head, a light smile growing on his face as his girlfriend pretended to kiss her camera lens.

"hi my loves," she started, sitting back down on her couch, "today im filming with my boyfriend nicholas."

nicholas shyly waved at the camera, his face graced with a grin. "i'm nick."

the girl sitting next to him smiled herself, bringing her hand up to softly rub the bottom of his chin. "and i'm letting him do my makeup."

he pretended to make a nervous face as he looked down at his girlfriend's coffee table. she had laid out every brush and every product that she owned (which was a lot) and it was kind of intimidating. the girl let out a small giggle, her brows furrowing slightly. "what?"

"you just got a lot of stuff goin' on here beba," he chuckled, picking up one of her beauty blenders and tossing it up in the air.

she caught it in her own hands before placing it back down on the table. "had to give you options," she turned to look at him with a dimply smile, "couldn't make it too easy for you."

nicholas rolled his eyes before reaching over to grab one of her black cloth headbands.

"you be wearing these in the morning," he chuckled, shifting his body to sit facing her. the girl nodded her head, allowing him to push her hair back with the headband, the tiniest baby hairs poking out onto her forehead. he'd watched her get ready one too many times, almost knowing her little routine by heart. he covered her face in her facial moisturizer and serum, then coated her lips with the medicated lip balm she used every morning and night.

he pulled his face back to look at her. her skin was so glassy and her plush lips were glossy. leaning forward he muttered, "pretty girl," before planting a soft baby kiss on her lips, not wanting to mess up any product.

rubbing her lips together as he pulled away, the girl looked up at him. "so what're you gonna do next?" she asked softly.

nicholas blew a puff of air out from his lips, looking at the products laid out on the table as he thought for a second.

"normally you use this one," he said, picking up a half empty bottle of estée lauder foundation. "right?" his girlfriend stood silent, knowing she wasn't supposed to give him any inclinations. instead, she just shrugged her shoulders slightly, making nicholas roll his eyes once again.

he leaned down to pick up a brush, one that was not for foundation at all. his girl cringed as he dumped the product onto her fluffiest powder brush, and he stopped abruptly. "whaattt?"

she scrunched her face up, "i can't say anythinggg."

nick chuckled boyishly, sighing while swiping the brush down her soft cheeks and across her nose, "you're killing me."

he continued onto a messy attempt at contouring before moving on to pick up her bronzer.

"you always say this is your favorite part so i gotta do it justice," he half smirked, scooting up to get closer to his girlfriend. almost comically, he brushed on the bronzer onto her forehead and cheeks with a slow, feather-like pressure.

"you don't gotta be careful baby," the girl said, "it's not gonna show if you barely press down."

"just don't wanna hurt you," he muttered jokingly, finishing up his application.

he poked her nose with a blush brush, leaving the tip of it a light shade of baby pink, and proceeded to spread blush across the apples of her cheeks. he thought she looked cute like that.

"pick one," he told her in a gentle tone, a small smile creeping onto his face. he motioned his head toward her collection of lip glosses, lip sticks, lip liners, and lip oils. reaching down, she grabbed hold of a soft pink lip gloss that was coconut scented.

"you like this one," she handed the gloss over to him.

nicholas gently grabbed hold of her chin, holding her steady as he applied it onto her. his gaze lingered low as his eyes focused on her lips. how plump her bottom lip pouted out. how soft they looked. how pretty they looked now that they were all shiny.

noticing this, she puckered her lips out a little, silently asking him for a kiss.

he obliged of course, planting a baby kiss onto her lips to not mess up her makeup.

"i did good?" he asked her in a quiet tone, again gripping her face softly. he guided her face with his hand, moving it around to look at it from all different types of angles to mess with her.

she nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. "yeah, i love it."

fin.

[leyllethecreator]

Okay, so I have like hundreds of WIPs, so I'll just do like 3

Rigamarole

Therefore I Am

Case Study

@shukei-jiwa @writewithgur @transientlibrary

WIP title game!

thank you so much @cowboybrunch !

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Here is the title of a story that i label as WIP even though i haven't continue it in months (i continue it, but in my dreams) :

YOUR TALE

(If you remember Ara, she is from this story. I really love this one, i made it since 2019, but haven't write it. Yet.)

And here is the titles of my hibernating projects. I'll continue it after i finish Stranger In My Dream or when i have a lot of time.

Whispers of Yesterday (the Nicholas one)

Summer Journeys (the Kirana one)

And this is, the abandoned ones. (Maybe i'll take it out from the trash. Maybe)

Aruku

Please, a normal love story

Two sides of the same heart

The secret life of Elle Mata

Mengertilah Kasih

There's also 4 brain dump-no titles-stories and one confirmed story (but yea... i haven't write it... yet.)

YEET! @shockingly-green-chicken @ramwritblr @ryns-ramblings @rivenantiqnerd @winglesswriter @leyllethecreator

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[wannawrite999]

[inaflashimagine]

i truly am excited for the numerous miguel o'hara fics flooding my feed, but as someone whose first language is spanish i have one plea:

please do not use google translate for writing sentences in spanish bc 90% of the time they will sound quite off

some recommended resources:

spanishdict

linguee

deepL

word reference is also handy for understanding the context behind certain phrases or words

or maybe a friend you know who speaks and writes spanish!!

if anyone else has suggestions please feel free to rb!

-

Edit jun 7: shameless plug to read my Miguel O‘Hara x reader fic (latine reader) if you’re interested!

[insxghtt]

percentages — bella ramsey x reader

You found the video and now Bella had to deal with it.

warnings: none. just fluff.

this was not requested but i just had to do it. it's short, but i did my best ok? and remember that english is not my first language, so i'm really sorry if there's any mistakes.

Bella was sitting in the kitchen island eating her cereal like every morning. Suddenly, you show up on the kitchen with your phone on your hands. Bella couldn't see it, but you were already recording. 

"Babe, are you busy?", you asked. 

"No, why?" 

"I wanna show you something I learned, I think you're gonna love it", you smiled, and they just nodded. 

You positioned your phone on the balcony. Bella looked at the screen and realized that they were showing up on the corner of the screen, but it didn't bother them. They knew you liked to record tiktoks and they even found it cute. It wasn't like you were making tiktoks with them all the time, but occasionally you liked to try those couple trends. 

But then: Bella's worst nightmare. "Percentages" started to play, and they watched as you copied the exact same choreography as the video. 

They covered their eyes for a moment, not believing that you had found that video. Then, they went back to watch you dancing to the music. 

"Oh gosh, please don't", Bella got up and stopped right behind you, but you continued to dance. 

You could see her face on the screen and couldn't hold your laughter, but you tried your best to remember every move. 

"Oh my gosh, stop!", Bella touched your shoulder, but you didn't stop, so they proceeded to hold your waist, making you laugh even more. "Stoooop it!" 

You finally stopped dancing and turned to face them. 

"You liked it?", you asked. 

Bella stared at your pinky cheeks from the dancing. Their arms were still holding you close, and your faces were close now. God, you were just perfect. They smiled while staring at your lips. 

"You're an idiot." 

"But you love me." 

"Yes. Yes, I do love you." 

[trogo-auto-egocratico]

Sólo buscaba un lugar más o menos propicio para vivir, quiero decir, un sitio pequeño donde cantar y poder llorar tranquila a veces. En verdad no quería una casa, sólo quería un jardín.

Alejandra Pizarnik.

[inkedwingss]

new formats bc im thinking insta what do u think also, face reveal below

hello beloveds

@caustic-splines @hersurvival @canibereborn @poetici @informedimagining @thedayoftherae @sablewing @stumbling-through-time @burntblanc @lelestarmy @fairytaleinagem @remnantofabrokensoul @yakultstan @illarian-rambling @cssnder @crow-with-a-typewriter

[beluosus]

[jeszy-speakz]

is it hard to try, just because its easier to see me cry? is this just a lack of communication, or are we just not making connection? can silence be the key to unlock your thoughts, or is this just going to be mirror talk?

[lady-phasma]

Clarification: inclusive!reader for physical description could be used alongside female, male, or gender neutral reader tags.

Please comment or reblog if you have a suggestion for an alternative or question about the use of this tag.

Thank you so much to @underthelavendersky for the suggestion!

[flor4de4amor]

𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!

you’re abby’s favorite bartender at her favorite dive bar. she doesn’t take to kindly to people disrespecting her best girl.

warnings: alcohol is mentioned + slight violence

click for palestine! read before engaging with my acc+work

Abby is a regular at your bar. Well, regular is a kind way to put it. At this point, she lives in the dive bar. She’s head over heels for you but has decided obnoxious flirting every happy hour, and a sliver of your attention will suffice. 

Her routine is simple:

Order a beer. From her favorite bartender of course. If anyone offers to serve her it’s deny, deny, deny. She can only accept alcoholic content from her best girl.

Shoot some darts, play some pool, chugging contest. Blah, blah, blah. It’s only fun if she sees you sneaking glances from your station, shooting you a wink while she engages with her team. She likes seeing how flustered she can get you with a thin-lipped smile and wink alone. And the answer is very flustered.

Once she’s seen you steal enough glances, it’s time to go back to the bar and bother you. Sure, order another drink. But, also, flirt with the gorgeous girl serving her. Is that a new shirt? Your hair looks so pretty tonight. She loves the necklace you’re wearing, situated real well between your tits. 

Then stay on the barstool, all night, up until she’s one of the last patrons in the bar. Even though,  she’s gotta be up running drills quite soon after your shift ends. But it’s worth it. If she can make you laugh at least once.

Every time. Without fail. That’s Abby’s routine, and tonight was no different. 

Well, except for the fact that there was some asshole bothering you while you worked. Doesn’t he know that’s her job? Only she can bother you, she’s the only one who does it right. Besides, you looked annoyed while he was talking to you. You never looked annoyed when Abby flirted. Always brushing your fingers on her bicep, giggling as she flexed, giving her a hard time for flinching after a shot. You relished in her attention even. You looked like you wanted to throw up while this guy was talking to you. Abby personally, wants to throw him a punch. Instead, she rolls her eyes and fiddles with the toothpick between her teeth, before calling you over to her. The night’s still early, maybe he’ll back off. She hasn't gotten her slice of your attention yet, so she refuses to let that be cut short. 

“Hey, princess!” She uses a hand motion towards you. Your face lights up as you walk towards her freckled face. You hadn't spoken many words to her all night. It was a relief to see the pilot in her designated stool. 

You throw your towel over your shoulder and place your hands on your hips. “How can I help you, Captain Anderson?” Your tongue pokes between your lips, a coy smile protruding.

Abby rolls her eyes. “I hate when you call me that.” She sighs playfully, “I only let my favorite bartenders call me Abby y’know.” 

You place your hand over your heart, flinching, “Silly me thinking I was the only one.” 

Abby whistles lowly at you. “None of them are half as pretty as you, baby.” She watches as you turn your head to the side shyly. She’s already got you flustered and the night’s just begun. She hasn’t even started throwing darts and flexing muscles with her squad yet.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now. “Promise?” you flirt shamelessly, curious as to what she’ll say.

“Scout’s honor princess,” she kisses three of her fingers and holds them up.

You laugh at her actions. Only Abby can have you laughing at work. In a sticky bar, tight shirt, and light hangover still cascading over you. “Okay, Abby,” You say her name sickeningly sweet. She almost bends over to her knees. “What can I get you tonight?” She smiles, tapping the paper coaster on the countertop, pretending to think. “I’m gonna go with the usual tonight babe.”

You smile, “Boring but expected.” You go to grab a glass and fill it up with ice as a deep baritone fills your ears. “Princess,” the man calls. This new customer was evidently, not privy to the unspoken rules of the bar. He winks at Abby expecting some comradery from a nickname alone. As if friendships are built off disrespecting women. 

You cringe at the nickname and don’t reply. Your legs only move to that call when it’s your favorite captain calling you.

“Oh c’mon don’t be that way.” The man continues. “What? You want a different nickname?” Abby’s jaw is clenched so tightly, that she's sure her molars have cracked. She’s clenching her fist to the point that the white of her knuckles is apparent. 

“She doesn’t respond to that,” Abby replies to the asshole. “She’s got a name.” This man is new sure, but definitely an idiot. He’s choosing to continue squaring off with the Abby Anderson. You know better. You wouldn't disrespect her even with all the alcohol in the world flooding your system. You’ve seen her in a bar fight. She’s never lost.  

“What is this your girlfriend?” He laughs drunkenly. “I mean I’m into that sort of thing,” he snorts to himself. “Why don’t you give us all a little kiss?” He continues chuckling like he’s some world-class comedian. Though, Abby doesn’t seem to find him funny. 

She runs her hand over her face. She looks at you for a moment. “Princess,” she leans in whispering, “How many bar fights in me until you said I was banned?”

You lean closer to her, whispering back, “I don’t think I’m allowed to ban the champ.” Smiling cheekily at her. She winks and clicks her tongue. That’s all she needs as reassurance to kick this guy’s ass.

She gets up from the stool, walking closer to him. Though Abby oozes dominance, when she’s standing over you it’s hard not to shit your pants. She places her hands square atop this guy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna give you just one chance to apologize to my pretty girl or else you’re gonna be banned.” 

The man brandishes off a drunk grin that’s missing two front teeth. “Ban? Me? Ban me? Nah.”

Abby rolls her eyes, “So that’s a no?” She doesn’t even give the guy a chance to answer before punching him straight in the jaw. “See someone else has had the common sense to knock two teeth from that ugly mug of yours, what’s a few more?” She mutters to herself.  There’s slight commotion, but it dies down quickly with the rest of Abby’s aviator squad coming quickly behind her. Beers still in hand, foam coating a few mustaches they ask her what happened. She wrings out her hand, “Go take his picture for the wall of shame and dump him outside.” She huffs, watching her lieutenants follow her orders.

Abby comes to sit by you in her same old worn-down barstool. She smiles as you give her a bag of ice for her hand. “What number fight is that?” You ask her softly and playfully.

“For you or in this bar?” She’s got that look in her eye, nothing but trouble.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t answer a question with a question.” You being to make the drink you never got to give the dirty blonde.

“You’re bossy tonight,” she muses, accepting the drink once you hand it to her, chugging quickly. “Fighting makes me thirsty she muses.”

You repress a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “So Captain,” you drag out the tightly slightly. Watching as Abby raises her eyebrow at you.

“Princess,” she replies with an edge to her voice. 

“When’re you gonna bite the bullet and ask me out? Hasn’t total endless flirting with me gotten boring?” You lean against the bar top, cleavage spilling from your low-cut top. 

“How about now?” Abby works hard to make sure her eyes don’t come to your spillage. She works overtime in doing so even. It’s torturous.

You hum, “Beating up drinkies doesn’t count as a date you know?” You smile at her, propping your face against your hand.

“Our first date wouldn’t be here,” she smiles toothily. “If that’s the case, we’ve had plenty of dates while I sat in this barstool. We’re married even.” She grins at you.

Your tongue licks your lips, “Moving fast, aren’t you? Focus on the first date, Anderson.”

“Yeah get used to saying that last name, ‘cause it’ll be yours,” she clicks her tongue and winks at you. “How about I come to grab you this weekend? A nice dinner, me you, and no drunks up your ass.” 

“Does this mean I’ll finally be seeing you out of that old navy uniform Anderson?” Your smile captivates your face as you tease her. Only you would make fun of her while she’s trying to ask you out.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t go home on the first date.” She teases, laughing softly, ‘cause it’s far from true.

“Liar,” you call her out on her shit, carefully grasping the glinting dog tags that lay around her neck. You pull her in for a kiss, for a moment there’s cheering. You know it’s from her rowdy lieutenants. You smile against her lips and pull away. “I’ll see you this weekend?” You say looking at her loved face.

“Sure thing princess.” She’s stunned. “You know what? Put a round on my tab, for celebration.” She reaffirms.

“No doubt captain,” you smile mocking a salute.

divider by @aqualogia