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#this whole poem is great but trying to squeeze it in a post was not looking good lmao
rainingincale · 7 months
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Alice Walker, from "The Future Captured in a Heartless Fist", Taking the Arrow Out of the Heart
*in addition to this post quoting James Baldwin*
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gh0stchristian · 1 year
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Luis Serra x m!reader headcanons [SFW/NSFW]
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this prompt is heavily inspired by other posts from the following tags, specially this one
there might be some misspellings along the post, apologizing in advance.
like + reblog are much appreciated!
light explicit content ahead, some words are censored.
SFW
Luis never comments on the fact that he's attracted to men, however he would carry on with his flirting behavior as much as he does with women;
Would definitely complement your clothes, your jewelry, your hair and your facial features;
*bites the tip of his lip* "¡Que Guapo!"
Treats you with kindness and does his best to not get you overwhelmed;
bro has that insanely enchanted gaze that makes you lose your tracks;
like seriously, you look at him and be like "what's happening to me"
Makes jokes 24/7 and laughs with himself trying to impress you;
Grins every time he looks at you (simp behavior);
Annoys you purposely;
"Fuck you, Luis." "Now or later?"
Would try everything to make you flustered;
"Ay, didn't think you could be so cute."
Whispers naughty phrases in Spanish in your ear and mistranslates the meaning;
He likes to fix his hair when you're not watching, he cares how you perceive him;
He comes up with "Hold on, you got a dirty spot on your chin." and takes the opportunity to brush his thumb on your lips;
idk why I add this but I think Luis breathes loudly. Like you can hear his breath
He catches you glancing at him: "What? Never seen a handsome man before?"
Calls cute lil names "bebé", "guapo" and "hombrecito" are his favorite to use with you;
At first, Luis used to give little pats on your back, but when you gain intimacy with him he squeezes your waist.
He comforts you when you're feeling depressed, gently holding your face. "Aw mi amor, que pasa? Why are you so down?"
Luis doesn't play with your feelings and gets concerned every time you seem upset with something;
He loves caressing your hair and giving a lil kiss on the cheek;
He pleads for you like he's reciting a poem;
immediately put out the cigarette when you say you're allergic to the smoke;
He grabs your chin to face you, gently pulls you for a kiss. I mean, he practices kissing a lot, so he's aware of what he's doing;
He glances at you before pulling his face back;
"Mm, did I make someone nervous? That's what I thought."
NSFW
Switch (duh
loves fingering you and whispering in your ear
a truly touch starved person
he's not a fan of degrading but would do it if you insist.
stop being delusional, Luis doesn't understand a thing about bdsm
Luis Serra Voice Kink Navarro
"Yeah lose that up for me, mi amor."
Huffs and bites his lips during sex.
in his mind: teasing >> fucking
would muffle curses and isn't afraid to moan
if you have a praising kink you've won
cheesy compliments and bragging, he's so cute and romantic
Luis absolutely adores caressing your body, especially arms and shoulders
cozy cuddling and hugs, kissing and nibbling on your neck
He's truly a gentleman, he opens the car door for you and your legs too, aww
he pushes you until you scream his name
"Let this whole damn place hear that we're here!"
won't stop complementing your body
he speaks a lot during sex if you didn't get that yet
that gorgeous smile of his makes any guy's heart melt.
he secretly has a semi-public sex kink
brags your waist, swinging your hips slowly while staring at you taking his dick "Ah, [Y/N] you're taking me so well."
smokes after sex
chuckles seeing you take a break from hours of pleasuring
"Take a rest now, guapo. You did great."
after a long enjoyable night, Luis naps cuddling with you, snoring on your neck sleeping peacefully like an angel.
but this angel's snores sounds like a truck.
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illfoandillfie · 4 years
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Easy As A-B-C
Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader
Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling
Words: 4,537
A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 
Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao
Blurb Advent: Day 24
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Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 
Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.
You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.
You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.
“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.
You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.
He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.
When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.
What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.
“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”
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sdv-queen · 4 years
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omg your seb stargazing post was so cute!! do any of the other bachelors/ettes have stargazing hcs??
Awww 😍 thank you so much and also thank you for asking!
I have several HCs about this, so hold on tight
Stargazing
Bachelors
Alex
He likes it fine because it’s pretty romantic (and we all know he’s a romantic at heart), and if you’re dating he’ll definitely like an excuse to put an arm over your shoulder
But his mom always used to take him stargazing, so it’s too bittersweet for him to really love it
(Poor sweetheart 😭❤️)
Elliott
This walking poem l i v e s for stargazing, especially if you’re a couple and it’s something sweet you can do together
(While you lie in the sand, your head on his arm, his finger reaching toward the sky and tracing made-up constellations...)
He likes to find his own constellations and make up stories about them
(It’s actually lowkey a great creative exercise)
He rarely finds the same story twice
(I also hc that he is mermay and used to swim to the surface to stargaze but that’s another story lol)
Harvey
His heart has always been in the sky, and one of the ways he dealt with not being able to become a pilot was studying the stars
When you go stargazing with him, after a while of silence to soak in the atmosphere, he’ll tell you a lot about the history of different constellations
So it’s like story time, but from the perspective of several ancient cultures he’s read about
(And if you’re dating, he’ll definitely want to hold your hand)
Sam
He likes it inasmuch as it’s a good chance to cuddle with his honey if you’re dating, but doesn’t think about it too deeply
(He loves it if you tell him stories, though)
(And especially loves it if he gets a chance to kiss your hair in the lulls in conversation)
Sebastian
Read all about him here ✨
Shane
He doesn’t get what all the fuss is about
But if it’ll make you happy, he’s down for joining
You lie together on that pier where he used to drink (and if you’re dating and try to hold hands with him, he’ll definitely blush but squeeze your fingers tight)
He won’t talk much, but he’ll remember how nature used to make him so depressed and yet so calm, because the universe didn’t care about him at all
But here with you - whether you’re dating or not - he doesn’t feel any of that old angst because he knows someone cares a whole lot
Victor
Victor likes stargazing, but he likes it because it’s ~meditative~
If you go stargazing together, he probably won’t want to talk much
But if you’re dating, you’ll probably feel something brush your hand after a while before he twines his fingers with yours
Bachelorettes
Abigail
Okay fam idk about you
But I hc that she’s the wizard’s daughter
And as such, she not only enjoys stargazing, she straight-up gets rejuvenated in their celestial glow (which would explain her amazing glowy skin amirite)
She loves being under the stars together, but she prefers to be active - dancing, practicing sword fighting, taking long walks
(And if you’re dating, you can expect to get a surprise kiss or two)
Emily
She loves alllll sorts of occult things
Including astrology
So she loves watching the constellations and planets slowly traverse the sky throughout the year
Expect lots of explanations about what influence different constellations will have on your mood
But even if you’re not into it, she’s so excited that you don’t have the heart to tell her to stop
(And if you’re dating, the way she squeezes your hand when she makes a point is definitely worth it)
Haley
She pretends to hate it because it’s something her sister loves so much
But deep down, she misses when things were simpler and she didn’t feel so alienated from her sister
So if you suggest it, she’ll moan and groan but go with you - as long as you promise to let her borrow your jacket if she gets cold
(She gets cold within like ten minutes lol)
And though she’d never admit she loved every second of it, the smile she’s trying to suppress betrays her
Leah
She likes looking at the stars, and she’ll often use the constellations she or Elliott make up as inspiration for her abstract sculptures
(They go stargazing together sometimes)
She’ll like going stargazing with you because she can talk through what she sees with you and ask for your opinions
You lie side-by-side in the grass by the lake for hours
Maru
She loooooves stargazing
(And as was suggested in the replies to the Seb post, it was definitely a great way for the two of them to bond)
And with her telescope, she can see them wayyyy better
And whether you’re a friend or something more, she loves to share that with you!
She doesn’t care as much about the stories, but will talk your ear off about the science
Which is just as endearing
Penny
She l o v e s the stars, because they’re like nature’s storybook
You think Harvey knows a lot about stars?
He’s got nothing on her
But unlike Harvey, Penny wont talk your ear off about them unless you ask
Mostly, she’ll like being with you instead of alone
If you’re dating, she’ll definitely try to hold your hand with the same shy smile you fell in love with
Sophia
She usually likes to spend her night reading manga or watching anime, safe indoors
But if you suggest stargazing together (so she won’t have to be alone), she’ll agree readily enough
If you’re dating, she’ll ask to hold your hand as you walk to the beach
She’ll tell you about some cool anime she’s seen that features stars or space or astrology, getting more and more excited with every sentence
And when she thinks she’s gone too far she’ll break off with a blush
(And ofc you will honestly assure her that this is the best night you’ve had in a long time)
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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years
Text
Taddy drabble!!!!!
Okay, remember this post from yesterday about how @hockeysometimes and I accidentally created 3 OC tadpoles for the frogs’ senior year? I accidentally ficced. And it got sort of long.
May I present, tadpole number one: Sebastián “Nando” Hernandez!!!! This started because I said, you know what, there should be a baby gay tadpole when Nursey and Dex are seniors and then they love and cherish him like their adopted child. Thus Nando was born. As promised, I’ll make a post telling you more about Nando and his fellow two tadpoles soon. For now, have this sickeningly soft random fluff, in which Nando comes across some gay shit going down at Annie’s between his captain and said captain’s assistant-captain-slash-best-friend.
Nando loves his classes.
He picked his schedule last spring, at the Samwell admitted students day, and, like, okay, he was a little nervous about it, because how are you supposed to pick classes for a major that determines your job for the rest of your life when you haven’t even graduated high school yet?— But. He did a good job. Because his freshman fall semester schedule is the shit.
Tuesdays are the best, and today is Tuesday, so his spirits are high. He gets out of Soc 101 at 10:30, and he has an entire, like, six hours before he even needs to start thinking about hockey practice. Hockey practice is one of the best parts of any day, by the way, because he gets to see his friends.
He can’t believe it. It’s the middle of October, and he still can’t believe it. Walking across Samwell’s main quad after class, he takes it all in. He’s really here. He’s really in college. He’s almost two thousand miles away from home, and he misses Mama and his sisters a whole boatload, but he’s here. He’s in college, and he’s studying sociology, and he’s playing D1 hockey, and he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.
He’s in such a good mood today, actually, that he thinks it necessitates Annie’s. He’s only been at Samwell for two months, but already he’s perfected his order. They make a mocha frappe with cinnamon that’s honestly the drink of the gods.
Okay, he reasons with himself. Annie’s it is. And then homework. Later. But first, Annie’s. He deserves this.
He’s going to gain his freshman fifteen solely because of Annie’s.
And then Dex will kick his ass. Nando isn’t scared of his captain, exactly; he’s been in enough settings with him to know that Dex is a really nice guy, and he’s been instrumental in welcoming Nando to Samwell. But he’s also seen him on the ice, fiercely debating linesmen on bad calls and getting in scuffles and doling out checks to the members of opposing teams with particularly hateful chirps. He’s a great leader. Nando just isn’t so sure he’d want to get on his bad side.
He just. He really wants to impress the seniors, okay? They’re, like, the coolest guys ever.
Nando reaches into his pocket for his phone, but there are no new messages. He checks his thread with his boyfriend, but Nate left him on read at 9:21 this morning and hasn’t gotten back to him yet— which he never used to do, really, not before Nando left for Samwell. He’s trying not to read into it too much. Nate is busy, after all. He’s at U of Arizona, much closer to home, doing big things. He doesn’t have as much time to text, and that’s okay.
Or— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.
It’s okay. He tucks his phone away. Nate will get back to him eventually. Even though the gaps between his replies have been getting larger… and larger… and larger.
He knew coming to college with a long-distance boyfriend would be hard, but. Jeez.
His team doesn’t know about Nate. Not really. He would be lying if he said that his decision to come play for Samwell wasn’t influenced at least a little by Eric Bittle and the 2016-17 team, being in the news so much for the first openly gay NCAA captaincy. He was reading the stories before he even got his acceptance letter. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more inspired by another hockey player.
And besides, this is Samwell. It’s one of the queerest colleges in the country, on top of the hockey team’s reputation for acceptance. So really, he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his new teammates he’s gay.
It’s just. Hockey is hockey. And Eric Bittle graduated.
He has some surviving memories from, well, an entire childhood of being a queer, Latino hockey player, and it wasn’t a fun time.
He’ll get there. Eventually.
And besides, he tells himself, he isn’t worrying about that today. Today he’s going to Annie’s, and getting a frappe. The sun shines on his face, and the trees are turning every color.
It’s a good day.
*
Nursey loves his boyfriend.
For a number of reasons, but especially right now. He’s about three sweet-talking sentences away from getting Dex to share a bite of his French toast. They’re tucked into the corner booth at Annie’s— their booth, really; they’ve staked a claim to it every time they come here ever since they got back to campus for senior fall. It’s tiny, and barely spacious enough for two 6’2 hockey players to squeeze themselves into, but Nursey sits across from him and their knees press together under the table, and all is right in the world.
“Look, babe,” Nursey says, spreading his hands out on the table. “All I’m saying is, that little crust right there with the powdered sugar—” He points to the bite of toast in question on Dex’s plate. “I’ve got my eye on it.”
Dex rolls his eyes at him. There’s a smile on his freckly face, and in the warm light of the dining room, he’s every autumn color imaginable, fiery red hair to plaid, maroon button-down to amber eyes like pools of sunlight. For the past three years, Nursey spent his entire friendship with Dex trying to train himself not to stare, to rid himself of the wants for a boy he never thought he could have. This summer, that changed. Now he can have him, does have him— so he can look. Why not look?
Dex is a fucking catch.
He’s pointing with his fork toward Nursey’s own plate. All that remains of what once was there are a few whole-grain breadcrumbs. “I don’t know if you’d noticed,” Dex says, “but you had your own food.”
“Will,” Nursey groans. “I’m still hungry. I just want to taste it.”
Dex cuts into his last stack of toasts, and Nursey glues his eyes to them. Annie’s does French toast right— brioche bread with just the right amount of egg wash, pan-fried and then dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with syrup. Nursey is pretty sure his mouth is watering.
And Dex is right. He did have his own food. But—
“It’s not my fault,” Dex continues, between bites of toast, “that you insist on getting hipster toast every time we come in here.”
Nursey puts a hand on his heart, like he’s been shot. “Dexy, avocado toast is part of my aesthetic.”
“Jesus Christ.” Dex sighs. “Why am I dating you?”
Nursey grins, rubbing his foot against Dex’s sneaker under the table. “Because you love me.”
Dex rests his cheek in one hand, and Nursey is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss each of his freckles, one by one. He watches Dex pass judgement over him, eyes lingering on him bemusedly, mouth curving up to the dimple on the left side of his face. For a few seconds, he’s quiet, and Nursey doesn’t break eye contact. He’s in love with that look in Dex’s eyes.
Then, finally, Dex stabs the crust Nursey has been eyeing with his fork, holds it across the table, and announces, “I hate you.”
“I know.” Nursey beams. Through the power of his charm, he’s getting exactly what he wanted. He knew it’d come to this, all along.
Dex feeds him the little nugged of powdered, syrupy crust, and it tastes just as overly sweet as the gesture is, and Nursey has never loved anything more. “Mmmm,” he groans as he swallows. “That shit is delightful. Thanks, baby.”
“You’re a sweet-talker,” Dex mutters, still grinning, as he returns to his plate to finish it off.
“But you fall for it,” Nursey points out. “Every time. So who’s whipped in this arrangement?”
“Both of us,” Dex replies. His cheeks are flushed pink, but his smile remains.
“I tend to agree,” Nursey says, then reaches for his free hand and takes it in his own. He pulls it across the table, then plants a kiss on each knuckle, plus one, two, three of his favorite freckles. Dex’s hand, like the rest of him, is covered in them. Nursey has written enough poems about them to fill a book.
In fact, he maybe feels one coming on right now. He tucks the idea into storage in his brain for later, when he’ll inevitably wind up scribbling all over a notebook in a pile of leaves outside the Haus for two hours before practice.
God, he fucking loves this place.
He presses Dex’s palm to his own face; Dex’s fingers curl into the touch and caress his cheek. “Ah, my Will,” he hums. “Where would I be without my stolen bites of your French toast.”
Dex points his fork at him menacingly. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “That was your ration for the day. This is my breakfast.”
“Hey!” Nursey beams, still holding his hand to his stubbly cheek. There are callouses all over Dex’s fingers. Before this, before Dex, he didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a pair of hands. “Did I say anything about asking for another piece?”
“No.” Dex mops up the last of his syrup with the very last piece of his toast. His eyes twinkle like the sunrise as he looks up at Nursey. “But I know you were thinking it.”
Nursey kisses the inside of his palm. “Rude.”
Dex laughs into his hand, smiling from ear to giant ear, and Nursey really fucking loves his boyfriend.
*
Annie’s is crowded.
It always is. Or at least that’s what Nando has inferred from his two months on campus. The line stretches almost, but not quite, to the door. He weighs the merits of long line versus mocha frappe— is it worth it?— but then watches two girls go by him holding their drinks, each with tall stacks of whipped cream atop them, and he decides, yeah. Definitely worth it.
So he waits in line. He should have texted Rhodey to ask if he wanted to come with him, but then again, Rhodey is still probably asleep. He’s pretty sure his roommate-slash-teammate is nocturnal.
The coffee shop is buzzing with students, a sea of maroon Samwell merchandise, groups of friends clustered around tables or piled into booths.
Nando grins at the scene. It’s such a postcard of college. Some are hunched over homework; others scroll through their phones or laptops, and still others are just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. There are art kids, and jocks, and fierce academic types, and— oh, wait— is that Nursey?
Nando squints. Yes, it is! There’s no mistaking that green hat. It sits atop his teammate’s familiar head of undercut curls; Nursey is in the back booth, and he’s— oh! He’s sitting across from Dex.
Nando almost waves at his teammates, but a.) they’re not looking at him, and b.)... something he’s never seen before, he realizes, is happening.
Because the thing is, they’re not looking at him, but they’re not looking at anything else, either. In fact, their eyes are all each other’s, as they sit mere feet apart across the small booth. Dex is resting his cheek in one hand, looking across the table at him, and Nursey is beaming at him, eyes crinkled and face soft, like— like—
— like he’s looking at the love of his life.
Nando widens his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels like he’s seeing something he isn’t supposed to be seeing. Nursey says something to Dex, who rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time. He proceeds to fork something off of his plate and hand the fork across the table to Nursey, who eats the bite of whatever Dex is offering clean off without hesitation.
Nando blinks.
This looks gay.
Really gay.
His theories are confirmed when, a few seconds later, Nursey picks up Dex’s hand and kisses it several times. Nando looks away, lest he catch one of their eyes, but then again, it’s not like either of them seem to be planning to look anywhere but at each other anytime soon. His awkward aversion of his gaze only lasts a second, because when he sneaks a glance back at them, he has to marvel at how soft Dex looks— his cheeks are freckled and pink, and he looks so at ease with Nursey, like he has no other care in the world. It’s an extension of the dynamic Nando has already observed between them— they’re best friends, and he knows this. He just had no idea that they were more than best friends.
Nando pauses in line. Logically, he knew that Nursey was queer. He’s open about it, proud of it, and he gave Nando and the other tadpoles the no homophobic bullshit, this is Samwell, have your teammates’ backs speech on day one of preseason. It was a breath of fresh air for Nando, and he’s sort of been looking up to him ever since.
But Dex?
At the table, Dex has his hand pressed to Nursey’s face, like it’s a prized possession. Nando has never seen that soft smile on his captain before.
“Hey.” Someone nudges him, very lightly, in the backpack from behind. “Dude, you can move up.”
“Oh.” Nando snaps out of it— the line has moved on without him, and he’s left a gaping, empty space in the middle of it. “Sorry,” he says to the person behind him, and then steps forward.
He can still see Nursey and Dex from his new spot in line.
His stomach turns. He misses Nate, watching them together.
His phone still has no new messages, just Read 9:21 AM.
But here are Nursey and Dex, in plain sight at Annie’s, canoodling— there is no better word for it— with each other, being a couple, despite all the odds, all the stereotypes, everything everyone thinks hockey players are supposed to be. Here are his captains, the team leaders, seniors, sharing something that even in this brief glance Nando knows is precious beyond words.
He wonders, for a split second, if he should say something, the next time he sees them. Tell him he looks up to them. That he’s grateful to feel so safe here.
But watching them with their breakfast, he decides against it. He’s seeing this before they’ve chosen to reveal it to him, and that should happen on their own terms.
Nursey throws his head back in a laugh. Dex grins like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.
No, Nando won’t say anything. This is something too precious to intrude on.
For now, he smiles, and he waits in line for his frappe.
124 notes · View notes
domsdeadd · 5 years
Text
your first name is in the poems that i write
erwin absentmindedly strummed the guitar in his lap, his lip was trapped tightly between his teeth, his eyes were squeezed shut, and his brows were furrowed as he stared at the notepad in front of him.
“come to bed, erwin. please.” levi’s face was contorted into a look of worry, the longer he stared at his boyfriend the worse he felt. “you’ve been working on this bullshit for so long, you’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t sleep sometime.”
“so that’s what you think of them?” erwin snapped and pushed the guitar off of his lap. “i work my ass off trying to make my dream happen while simultaneously working a job to keep a roof over our fucking heads and you think it’s bull shit?” tears were welling in his eyes and levi sighed.
“‘win that’s not what i meant and you know it.”
“well it fucking sounded like it, i’m busting my ass over here and what’re you doing? you’re doing nothing! you’re doing jack shit!” erwin balled his fists and walked toward levi.
“you’re a fucking cunt, smith, you know that? i’m busting my ass taking college classes, cleaning the fucking house, and feeding your fucking dumbass so you can have a chance at your stupid fucking dream! fuck off with this shit saying i’m not doing anything. i’m doing way more than you fucking are!” levi pushed erwin roughly, causing the taller to trip and fall to the ground.
“fuck you!” erwin snapped as he pulled himself to his feet. he continued, louder now, “you won’t have to fucking cook for me anymore because i’m done with your bullshit. i’m going out, and when i come back you better not be in MY fucking apartment.” erwin grabbed the keys to his car and slammed the apartment door, not even bothering to clean up what he was doing before levi interrupted.
levi didn’t even bother trying to hold the tears back, he just let them fall as he walked over to see what erwin was working on that caused this whole mess in the first place. he picked up the notebook and the messy words scrawled onto the paper made him cry harder as he curled against the couch where erwin had been sitting just minutes before.
verse one?
you can't be by yourself, you can't be by yourself
they kept you in the dark in a room with nothing sharp
until you were well
you told me that you were so scared of what they know
but love isn't afraid, love is using your first name
in the poems that I wrote
lee, i know i’ve been working myself half to death lately, and i’m sorry. i just wanted this to be perfect. i’ve been working on this for a long time and i only have a verse to show for it, it’s pathetic.
i’m sorry i’ve been so busy, i just wanted it to be perfect for you because you don’t deserve anything less. i feel like the lines might not really make sense, so i’ll explain them after i’ve given this to you.
i’m sorry i only got a verse done, i could’ve done so much better but i just ran out of time. i love you, lee, and nothing will change that. i really don’t deserve you. thank you for sticking b-
that’s where the messy flow of erwins handwriting stopped, levi assumed erwin stopped writing when he walked in to ask him to come to bed.
levi’s eyes poured over the page once, then twice more before he moved to send erwin a text.
levi: i’m sorry...
read, 12:02 am
levi: i love you
message failed to send
wow so this hurt me to write, not as much as the last post did, but it still hurt. anyways, i didn’t write the lyrics, they’re from ‘to see you alive’ by flatsound. he’s really good & underrated so please listen to him !! thank u for reading & please send requests if you’d like !! have a great day! :)
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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years
Text
New Year with the band; Queen x reader
Hello people of Tumblr and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I was hoping to have had this done last night but time got away from me so I finished it this morning and so for my first fic of 2019 I present to you another part of my Rock Angel series. This is a pre-Rock Angel fic right here so this is counted before “Set it all free” when you the reader are still the intern to Miami. And after seeing Bohemian Rhapsody for the 2nd time last night, I just had to do this fic and I may have another chapter up soon, hopefully. Anyways I hope 2019 is a great year for everyone and that everyone stayed safe after last night and are taking care of themselves post-New Year celebration.
Warnings: None except for INSANE FLUFFY FEELS.
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Taglist *open*:
@phantom-fangirl-stuff
@onebigfangirlworld
@mr-badguymercury
@labessieisallama
@starswin
@naturalswifty89
@isabella-bby
_____________________________________________________
*December 31st, 1980*
This has been a crazy three months and here I am in Freddie Mercury’s house with a whole bunch of strangers plus the rest of the band and their wives to ring in the New Year.  Of course Adam didn’t want to come even though I tried to convince him to come, but he said that he was just too cool to be around a band like Queen.
It was 15 minutes till midnight and 1981 would soon be here.  I was at the food table trying to get a second plate of brownies and basically fill up on sugar to keep myself awake.  Most of the people were already hammered beyond anything else so I had to walk over some of their unconscious bodies till I finally reached the guys.
“Ahh there’s our best girl!” Freddie praised at he held his glass up almost as if he were giving a toast.
“Oh stop it Fred, I literally just saw you five seconds ago.”
“Five very long seconds.” He whined as I playfully shoved his shoulder.
“Isn’t that your second batch of sweets already?” asked Brian.
“Sugar keeps me up, otherwise I’d be asleep in the corner hours ago after all that I’ve been through this semester.” I said.
“But I thought you loved us? Guess we were nothing but a stress factor to you then huh?” Deacy snapped clearly teasing me as I noticed a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“No, no, no, no don’t you guilt me Deacy! You know I love you guys! This has literally been the best semester I’ve had, I just can’t believe in a couple more months I’ll be done and then I won’t see you guys till your next tour before Miami clears my internship credit.”
“I can’t believe you’ll be leaving us after our tour, I feel like you should stay here with us even after the tours done. I’d miss you too much darling.” Freddie said as he leaned over and hugged me close to him before kissing my cheek.
“In all seriousness love, maybe you should cut back on the sweets, you’ll crash faster if you keep eating sugar, take some of these,” he then handed me a couple of his celery sticks and baby carrots. I looked at him with a ‘seriously’ look as I said.
“Really? Veggies Bri?”
“Less you want cavities for the new year I suggest you eat those. Otherwise I’ll have Dr. Taylor here take a look at your mouth since he studied dentistry.”
“Wait for real?” I asked as I turned around and faced him.
“This whole time we’ve known each other and you never once bothered to listen to what I did in school. Really (y/n) what kind of friend are you?” Roger said in a mocked hurt tone.  I threw my baby carrot at him which made all of us laugh and we continued to chat till the midnight hour drew closer.
Time sure does go by when you’re having fun with friends because now as everyone gathered to watch the ball drop live from New York City. We were just 2 minutes away to ring in the New Year and as everyone began the countdown, the anticipation was growing as it got closer and closer.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” Everyone cried out as horns were blown, confetti was thrown in the air and couples kissed each other to ring in the New Year.  Bri, Rog and Deacy kissed their wives to celebrate the new year, Freddie was off god knows where by now meanwhile I just sat there alone.
I sure wish Adam was here to ring in the New Year.  I mean he used to be romantic at first at the start of our relationship, always buying my flowers and leaving little poems every time he’d leave the flat, but now for some reason he thought the romantic gestures were too corny and lame for him all of a sudden, could threaten the new “Rock” image he’s been trying out.
So I secretly knew even if I did bring him, he wouldn’t go for a New Year’s kiss.  Which sucked because the believer of romance that I am, I always thought sharing a kiss with the person you loved, meant you’d have a full successful relationship in the years to come.
At least that’s what I always saw in my parents every New Years.
I sighed solemnly and decided to stop out of the craziness of the party and just have a moment to myself.  I sat along outside in the garden of Freddie’s house along the bench and just stared up into the sky.
“Happy New year mum and dad. I sure wish you could be here to see it.” I said to myself solemnly.
“Something wrong love?” I heard Deacy’s voice say. I turned around and saw the guys standing behind me all looking at me with concern.
“No, not really. At least anything serious.” I said.
“You sure?” They all came and sat around me. Deacy to my left, Brian to my right, Roger sitting in front of me and Freddie standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders every now and then squeezing them assuringly or massaging them.
“Yes, I promise guys nothing’s wrong just….missing my parents is all.”
“While we can see that’s true, there’s something else going on too. You got a little awkward once people started kissing each other, is this because of Arsehole?” Roger said.  I looked at him and said.
“His name’s Adam Rog,”
“Is there a difference?” he questioned. I scoffed at him shaking my head softly.
“I don’t know guys, I thought that maybe I could for the first time get a New Year’s kiss with the first boy whom I’ve ever allowed into my heart ever since my parents died. Oh if only you guys first knew him you’d know he was romantic like you lot are, but lately he’s just called off anything that could damage his ‘badass hard rock exterior’. I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sap.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic. Neither gender should feel shame for being or hoping for a little romantic gesture in their life. Take me for example, the best guitarist of the greatest band. Makes his wife breakfasts in bed even when it’s not Mother’s Day or her birthday. I do it because I love her.” Brian said.
“And me, silent bassist John Deacon. I wrote ‘You’re my best friend’ for Veronica. Because that’s who she is and will always be to me. Not just the love of my life, but also my greatest and most treasured friend.”
“And even though we’ve broken off the engagement, Mary will still always be the love of my life. No matter what, which is why I wrote Love of my life for her, because that is who she is and will always be to me. Even though we’re no longer romantically involved with each other.” Said Freddie.
“And even though I’ve gained the reputation for ‘bad drummer boy of Queen’, for Dominque I’m willing to do anything for her. Whether its treating her to a spa day or even a day off from the kids.”
“And that’s what makes your wives and Mary so lucky to have met guys like you. I….just wish I had that guy now.”
“You will love, one day.” Deacy said as he gently placed his hand on the top of my shoulder and gently stroked it with his thumb.
“Until then you still got us, in fact.” Freddie cupped my face and had me look up at him and he kissed both my cheeks and continued, “Consider that your New Year’s kiss from me to you, darling angel.” I smiled up at him as he released my face from his hands.  I then felt my head turn towards Deacy and he said.
“Happy New Year poppet, here’s my kiss from me to you.” He then kissed my temple before I felt him lean his face against mine giving me an additional butterfly kiss. He backed away as Brian said.
“Don’t forget about me,” I turned towards him and he cupped my face much like Freddie did. He first leaned in and gave me a soft Eskimo kiss as his forehead touched mine which always made me feel safe and loved. He then gingerly kissed the center of my forehead and it was then I turned to Roger.
He grinned up at me and said.
“You know the drill, get into these arms you little imp.” I grinned at him before getting off the bench and hugged Roger. His strong arms wrapped around me instantly giving me a big, warm bear hug as I liked to secretly call them.
I felt him repeatedly kiss the top of my head and felt him rub my back.  But then I felt him starting to poke and lightly pinch around my sides, oh shit not again!
“Rog no!”
“No you’ve ended last year with a frown, when you should’ve been smiling. So that’s my first New Year’s resolution, to get you to smile.” He said with a mischievous grin as he kept tickling me. I squirmed around trying to escape Roger’s grip but it was iron clamped.
“Rog….stohahahp!”
“Nah I don’t think so.” He said as he kept tickling me.
“You know Rog, I think you and I are sharing the exact same resolution.” Deacy say.
“No! Nohohoh Deacy don’t…..NOO!!” Soon I had both Roger and Deacy tickling me.
“For being total opposites, seems they’ve agreed on one thing.” I could hear Brian say.
“Indeed.” Stated Freddie.  
“But who says they get to have all the fun?” suggested Brian.  As I kept trying to escape from both Rog and Deacy, suddenly I felt four more pair of hands start to tickle me.
“Guhahahahys stohahahahhap you’re kihihihihlling me!!!”
“Will you start off the New Year with a smile little angel?” Freddie asked.
“YES!! YEHEHEHESS!! JUST PLEHEHEHEASE STOHAHAHP!!” And with that the tickling ceased.  I panted heavily trying to regain my breathing and I said, “You guys are devils I swear.”
“Well that was rather rude darling.” Freddie said.
“Does that require punishment lads?” Brian asked.
“I say it does.” Stated Roger.
“Agreed.” Said Deacy.  The four of them looked at me ready to start tickling me again when I shouted.
“No! No! No! No! No I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Okay I’m sorry I surrender!” They all smirked at me laughing softly.  I then looked at them and said, “Thanks for cheering me up though guys.”
“No problem love, we’re always here for you when you need us.” Brian said as he gently stroked my hair.
“Happy New Year, my four best boys.”
“Happy New Year, our little rock angel.” Freddie said. I smiled at them and I went up to them and the four of them brought me to the center once more but instead of a tickle attack, it was a Queen group hug.  
1980 was a roller coaster year for me, but the best thing that came out of it was the fact that a girl like me, an ordinary college intern music student got to call the biggest band in all of History, my family.
Hell I can’t even imagine what 1981 was going to bring that could make this year seem just like any ordinary year.
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darktammy · 6 years
Text
New roses in my womb (Part 4)
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tag @sassybrose @instantbouquetdestinysblog @purpleskiesandcherrypies @drxcleaner @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @bluepunkrock @instantbouquetdestinysblog @thelonelunatic @cosmic--daydream @clown-dean @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @missdonna18
Negative you look at the test that said negative on it, you got up walking out of the bathroom showing Kenny. “Babe I don’t think I can give you a baby.” Kenny stop watching you sit on the sofa. “Don’t say that yes you can maybe we're not trying hard enough.” You look up at him as you shook your head, “No Kenny we’ve been at this for three months now nothing maybe that trying hard stuff is not the right way to go.” Kenny sat right next you on the sofa as he hugs you really tight. “Oh where going to have this baby one way or another ever if we do an IVF babe.” You got mad at him when he said that. “No fucking way Kenny that this again.” You said laying your head on his chest. Kenny rolled his eyes as he started to rub your head. “Look i’m sorry babe, but three months and nothing I think we should just take a look.” You shook your head again. “I’m sorry Kenny, but my answer is no.” You said as you got up heading to the bathroom.
You drove Kenny off to the airport just so he can catch his flight to a house show. Once you saw Kenny booked his flight you wave him goodbye once he got on that plain. You start to walk to your car then you stop to see Renee walking into the airport. You smiled as you ran up to her, “Hey Renee!” She stop to smile at you. “Hey Y/N how’s everything?” You both gave each other a hug. “I’m fine it’s been a hard time for me, you know trying to start a little family you know?” You laugh as you help her with her bag into the airport. “So your trying with Kenny now?” You nodded your head. “How long?” You look at Renee, “We’ve been trying for three months and nothing. I think I just can’t have any kids.” You said putting her bag down at check out. Renee shook her head. “Maybe your guys are trying to hard ever thought about relaxing when your both getting it on?” You shook your head, “no Kenny likes it rough, I mean there’s nothing wrong with that.” You and Renee start walking to her flight as you both talk. “Maybe if you both slow down and just make love then maybe it would work.” Renee look at you with a smile. You nodded your head at her. “Believe me it will work, and besides you both can make it work your a writer and his wrestler, you both have it easy.” You laugh as you look at Renee, “Oh Rene, oh yeah where's Dean? I thought the both of you would be together right about now.” You look around.
Renee look down as you both got coffee together. “Well that one is for another time Y/N.” You look at her confuse. “Renee what’s wrong?” You both sat down as you waited for her flight to come. “You see Y/N me and Dean we didn’t work things out. I moved out because I just couldn’t with him.” You took her hand and squeeze it a bit. “Oh Renee I’m so sorry why did you call me about it. I would have let stay with me.” You said She shook her head as she smiled at you. “No I moved back into my old apartment so I should be ok.” You shook your head as you both start there talking about what your going to to for the rest of the week.
You went back home to pack up somethings just so you can surprise Kenny to Monday night. You had everything ready even your red nightgown you just bought. You know he was going to love it.
You made to where Raw was going to be airing for tonight you walk into the arena with your mini skull purse in hand. You wave at a few people you knew like Lana, Becky, Charlotte, Bayley most of the women really. They all pulled you into their locker room so you can all talk about what was going on. You walk out with Ember just to get some bottles of water for the girls, then out of nowhere Ember said hello to someone. “Hey Seth, Dean.” Ember nodded her head them as Seth, and Dean look over to you and her together. “Ember, hey.” Seth said as Dean walk over to you putting his arm around you. “Hey Y/N I’m in shock that your here does Kenny know?” You shook your head, “No I’m going to surprise him Dean.” You said moving his arm off of you. “Hey you guys can you help us bring this water bottles back to the locker room with us Ember look up at Seth as Seth pick up the cooler with bottles in it. All four of you started to walk back to the locker room until you felt Dean’s hand rubbing you back. “Do you mind?” You said looking at him. He smiled at you. “Sure baby girl just try not to get turn on after I leave.” Dean whispered into your ear turning you on a little. Dean grab your ass and squeeze it tight making you bite your lower lips. “I knew you would like that I have a thing I need to do with Kenny I’ll see you around.” You turn your head only for your lips end up meeting Deans. Seth whistle at the both of you while Ember giggled. “I think they make a great couple right Seth?” You moved away from Dean walking into the women's locker room.   
You watch the show from the gorilla stand because you knew Kenny had a match with Dean so there you are waiting for Kenny to come around. You saw Dean took the mic and held it close to his mouth. He started to think before he said anything. “You know there’s so much that’s going on here. First we got this guy EC3.” The crowd booed at his name. “Then you got Brock lesnar who’s not even here again.” Again the crowd boos. “Then you got Kenny Omega.” The crowd cheers him on. “Yeah yeah but he needs to understand this is our yard, this belongs to the shield, this belongs my brothers. But don’t get me wrong I mean how cool would it be if we add someone else in it.” The crowd cheered on while Dean had a smirk on his face. “Guess who I saw in the back today? Y/N!!” You look up at the tv monitor as you heard your name being called out. You look over at Vince who told you to walk out into the ring right now. You did what you was told.
You walk out just to hear the crowd yelling out your name. You smiled as you walk down the ramp then your smile drop as you just remember. Dean was in the ring he sat on the ropes just to let you in. You enter the ring as you look at Dean. He got up as he walk right next to you. “Now Y/N welcome to the wwe it’s nice to meet you.” As he took your hand then plant a kiss. You smiled at him as you pulled your hand away from him. “Well we all know what you do for a living which is nice that you make love poems.” You nodded you head as you look at him.
“Now then how about the next book are writing are you writing it?” You look at him as he move the mic to you. “Yes i’m working on my new one.” Dean nodded as he licks his bottom lips looking at you. “Oh so what’s it about?” You look at him confuse, “Well the one book is about…” Dean walk away from you. “It’s about me right?” You shook your head, “Oh yeah doll face it’s about little old me, on how much you think about me when you walk around, how you think about me when you go shopping, eating, drinking, sleeping.” Dean looks at you with smile on his face. “You do think of me when you go to bed at night right?” The crowd ooh as you look around at them then back to Dean. “Uuhh…. I...I…” Dean move in front of you with smile on his face. “You know you think about me all the time doll face. Don’t lie.” The crowd started to laugh while the others ooh the whole time. You look around then back at Dean who’s now very close to your face. “Tell me Y/N,” He puts one arm around your waist as he pulled you close to him making you moan a bit. He heard it making him smile. “Do you think about this ever night.” Dean drop the mic as he pulled you face to his lips connecting. Dean kissing you, and you kissing him back moaning into his kiss.
Kenny ran so fast down that ramp when Dean look to the side he push you out of the way just so they fight. Feel elbow first onto the mat. “Ouch!” Was all you can say as you move to the corner of the ring seeing the fight breaking out in front of you. The referees all came down just to try to break up the fight between the two while you felt someone pulling you out of the ring. Roman, he pick you up caring you up the ramp while you held onto your elbow. Kenny look around to see Roman was carrying you to the back. Kenny rolled from the bottom ropes he start to walk up the ramp until Dean jump on him making the fight even worse than before.
You sat in the back as the medical team look at your elbow, Kenny walk into the room and told them to leave. They ran out of the room. “Kenny.” “Shut the hell up Y/N! What the hell are even doing here?” Kenny’s face was already red. “I wanted to surprise you that’s all.” You said looking up at him. “By what? Having Dean kiss you? Uh? By him putting his hands all over you?” You look up at him. “One he didn’t put his hands all over my body. Two I came here to surprise you by the gorilla post just to give you a kiss before your match. And three it was all Vinces idea he was the one who told me to walk out there.” You said. Kenny started to rub both hands over his face. “You see this is why I didn’t want you to come here in the first place, because of stupid shit like that. You know what Y/N my Ex Cara was way better than you.” Kenny walk out of the room leaving you in shock. Your eyes widen after those hurtful words made you finally cry.
Roman walk into the room hear what Kenny said. “Cheer up baby girl don’t let that asshole’s words get to you.”  You look up at him as you shock your head. “No, it was Dean’s fault why did he do that? What he thought it was funny?” Roman shook his head as he sat next to you. “No because that man really really loves ya.” You suck your teeth at his words while Roman laugh. “Nah it’s true Dean’s been talk about you since he read your first book about life or something like that.” You laugh due to the fact that the first one was when you graduated from college. “That was a long time ago Roman I’m in shock that he even read it.”You look at him. “You mean he still has it.” You shook your head and you giggled. “No way he does?” Roman nodded his head as he laugh. “Yup hey look whatever happens just remember you can always give me a heads up ok?” You nodded you head as you gave Roman a hug.
You made it back home as you unpack all your belongings and putting them away. You laid in your bed looking at the your phone watching some videos only for one to hit media everywhere. “Are you kidding me?!” You saw the pictures and video of Dean kissing you in the middle of the ring. Some saying ‘New love with Dean Ambrose?’ or another one said that ‘Kenny and Y/N are over!’ Or this one ‘Dean and Y/N are lovers and Kenny is now gone.’ You shook your head as you read most of the things that they said. “Oh my god really? I hate reporters.” You said getting up from your bed. You headed to the kitchen just to make a blow of your favorite cereal. Then you see your phone a text from Roman. You had a smile on your face.
Roman: Hey baby girl I see you and my bro are in love. ❤️
You: No Ro stop it were not, I hate the media.
Roman: I know what you mean. Besides all that how you feeling?
You: I’m ok just eating my cereal, how about you
Roman: 😕 cereal really? I thought you'd be a little to old for that, but hey whatevea
You: smh really you're never too old to eat cereal Ro.
Roman: 😂 yeah your right, hey i’m glad you are right get some rest because I know you have a lot to do in the morning goodnight baby girl.
You: Goodnight Ro
You ate you nighttime snack while you read what most of the wrestling news was saying about you with Dean and Kenny.
The next Morning you was out and about doing what you love shopping for you. Then you head for the supermarket to get some food then you felt strong arms wrap around your waist. “Can you believe it doll face, you and me all over the news.” You pulled Dean’s arms off of you as you look back. “One don’t touch me, it’s bad enough I got in trouble with Kenny about that kiss. Two don’t you say hello?” Dean smiled at you as he took your shopping cart then start to walk down the aisle with it, you start to follow him. “Yeah about that I’m sorry Roman told me about the fight you and Kenny had.” You nodded your head at Dean as you grab some things to put in your cart. “Thanks but I haven’t heard from Kenny since I got home last night. I tried calling him no answer. I even ask one of his friends if they heard from him nothing.” Dean gave you a tight hug.
“Hey everything is going to be alright I mean it. Maybe his with Cara.” You stop as you look at Dean. “Cara? You mean his ex girlfriend?” Dean nodded as you both started walking, “yeah I mean one night me and guys was at bar and we saw Kenny walking in there with her.” You look down because one you know Kenny don’t drink not at all. “What happened after Dean?” He look at you with worried look on his face. “I rather not say.” You pulled Dean close to you, “Please Dean tell me what happened after the bar? I know Kenny he don’t drink.” Dean had sad look in his eyes because he knew what was going to happen if he says it. “Kenny took Cara up into her hotel room and well he…” You got the idea you knew what he did. No wander Kenny said what he said. “Hey Y/N look at me I don’t really know what happened but think bad not right now.” You nodded as you and Dean finish food shopping.
You drop Dean off to his place as you think him for everything. You headed home taking everything had up to your place. You tried calling Kenny again, but no answer. You really do hope he’s not with Cara because you really can’t take anymore heartache. It was almost midnight when your cell rang Kenny. You answered it so fast that you almost drop your phone. “Kenny? Kenny where are you?” You hear him laughing with a few friends. “Hey babe I’m good right now I’m just with the bucks and Cody right now I’m fine.” You shook your head because you knew there was no way Cody or the young bucks where there with him, plus there was no way they can sound like girl ether.  “Alright Kenny cut the crap what’s going on?” Before Kenny could say something you heard her in the back. “Kenny it’s time for your check up.” You sat up as you know who that could be. “Hey Cara not now I’m talking to my girl here.” You ended the call as you got up from the couch. You grab your bag as you start to pack up some clothes. “I can’t believe him!” You took all you had in your bag.
You was out the door and into your car as you drove straight to Dean’s place, and to make things worse it start to rain. Once you park your car you grab your bag then headed to his door you knock on it a few times. You stood here crying as you look up in the sky then you heard the door open to see Dean. He was standing here shirtless with his shorts on. You look at him with tears running down your face. “Y/N? What happened?” He said pulling you in then closing his door. “Please Dean can I talk to Renee for few.” Dean sigh as he look at you. “Renee moved out after what she did.” You look at him then you just remembered she told you that she moved. “Oh god I forgot she told me that.” Dean grab your bag out of your hand as he tosses it to the corner. “Hey first thing first let's get you you dried up and we can talk about whatever is bothering you ok.” You nodded as Dean pulled you up the stairs to one of the guest bedroom.
You sat on the couch with one of Dean’s old shirts on, he gave it to you because most of your clothes was wet when he pulled it out. You thank him as he gave you a cup of tea. “Ok tell me from the top what happened?” You nodded as you explained to him what happened from the phone call you had with him. You told him how right he was Kenny was seeing Cara, and it broke your heart because you thought you was his only one. Dean held your hand while you keep on talking about everything you and Kenny did together. You start to cry again making Dean hug you. You told him that you’ll stay on the couch because you just need some time to think. Dean nodded as he want up stairs to head to bed. You laid on the couch as you thought about everything you and Kenny wanted to do. You look over to your bag to see your clothes then you saw your red nightgown you got up just to put it on.
You walk up the stairs just so you can go to bed, but instead you walk right up to Dean’s bedroom. You look in just to see him fast asleep. You smiled at him as you walk in, you softly pulled the sheets back as you carefully slept in his bed. She pulled the sheets back up as she laid close to him. She inhaled his scent putting a smile on her face. You felt his arm cross over to your body pulling you close to him. “Your not carefully Y/N.” You laugh as you look up at him. He look down at you with his sleepy eyes. You was so emotionally unstable at the moment so much emotions running through your mind that you just lean up and kiss him. Dean so surprise that it took him a moment to process that he kiss you right back.
Dean pulled on top of as you both deepen your kiss. You felt his rough hands sliding up your body. You hands starting to slide down his chest. You felt Dean ripping your panties right off of you. You gasp as you look down at him. “Now now doll face.” Dean said. “You can keep the nightgown on I like.” You laugh as you kiss him again. Dean start to move his hand down your back until he feels your ass smacking it making you moan. “Oh you like that don’t you.” He does it again making your bite your lower lips. “Please Dean I want you so badly.” Dean turn you making you lay on your back. You keeps your eyes on him as you watch him open your legs wide. You sat up on your elbows watching Dean’s head lower down into your core. “Dean?” You felt his tongue start to rub your bud making you gasp once again. “De...Dean! Oh god yes baby yes.” You bite your lower lip again as you moan with pleasure. Dean look up at you while he start to bit down on your bud making you moan even more. Dean lick two fingers as he slid them inside you making you throw your head back yelling out his name. “Oh god Dean!” He start to pump his fingers while biting down your bud. You look back down at him seeing his eyes now full of lust. You keep on moaning as he was now a wild animal. It was not to long that you felt a tight knot coming. Dean knows because you just tight yourself around his fingers. “Oh Dean please!” He pumps faster as his tongue rubs your one last making you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you hard.
Dean jumps up as he pulls you making you kissing him hard. You wrap your arm around him as you pulled his shorts feeling his cock sprung out. You look down to see how hard he was. He was thick just a little shorter than Kenny. You look up at Dean then smiled as you lowered yourself down to him with a smile on your face. You grab his hard cock in your hand you lick the tip of his head making him moan your name. “Oh doll face!” You smiled as took him whole in your mouth. Dean start to moan as you bob your head fast. “Oh yeah baby girl keep sucking.” Dean keep his eyes on you while you keep your eyes on him. You tried to swallow him every time your down goes down his cock making him once again yell out your name. You felt him twitching in your mouth you knew what you had to do. You bob your head feaster until Dean grab your hair pulling you back. “Oh no baby not yet if i’m going to come it’s going to be inside ya, now get on your knees.” You did as you were told.
You now in the position of doggy style, you bit your lower lips as you waited for Dean. “Oh Y/N, I can’t believe this is happening. I mean us here in my place right now.” Dean lean his head close to your ear. You felt his tip rubbing your core. “I know baby I didn’t think this was going to happen. Please Dean stop teasing me and just fuck me.” He laugh as he slowly enter you making you moan his name. “Last time I check I’m not gonna fuck ya I’m going to make sweet love to ya. You see that night when you first came to Raw me and guys heard ya with Kenny.” Your eyes widen because you remember that night. “He fuck you, only pleasing himself no fun right there. I’m gonna make love to ya I’m going to make you say my name until you come.” Dean slam inside you hard making you yelp loudly. His cock was inside you and it felt great just like it was in your mouth. You felt him excited then entering you again slow this was his speed nice and slow with passion in it. You moan to the feeling as he keep up with it. You close your eyes with smile on your face enjoying it. “Oh daddy yes.” Dean start to move faster once he heard those words making you moan louder. “Oh baby why did you say that as he whisper into your ear. “I’m..not...sorry.” You look back at him.
He pulled out making you turn this time he pulled your nightgown off tossing it someone in room he made you lay on your back opening your legs again. Then time entering you once again as you both moan again now thrusting you hard. You both start to moan as you both look in each other eyes. You want to keep this up for ever, but your body was saying something else. Tightening around Dean he speed up a bit. “Oh yeah baby come for me come for me.” Dean lean in kissing you once again, you felt your orgasm hit you hard as you moan into both your kiss. Dean thrust started to get sloppy as you try to say something, but couldn’t after a few more Dean finally comes inside. He pulled away as he said a few curse words. You look up at him as you shook your head with a smile. “Dean...I think….no I’m in love with you.” He look at her with a smile as he kiss you once again. “I love you more Y/N I love you so much.” That night you and Dean made love once again after that you both feel sleep.
Kenny came home look around the place only to find that you was gone. He knew he mess up because now he has to worry about a new problem Cara is now pregnant with his baby.
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starryandersen · 5 years
Note
ok so I have this idea for the longest time please hear me out. brandon/adam (I’m lost but u can’t tell me you aren’t as well) both of them are hockey players but Brandon is secretly an acclaimed author (zach hyman vibe) and his latest book is an experiment with poetry and of couse it’s about Adam, can’t blame the guy. BUT imagine when somehow the secret is revealed and Adam gets suspicious after all of his friends tell him to read it and he caves in and reads all of Brandon’s books.
(pt. 2) AND he finds out he somehow always ends up being an important character in every single one, but full on freaks out when he realises the whole book of love poems are describing HIM! anyway that’s all I’ve got but it fits well with 33.hide so I’m curious about what are your feelings about this
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yes yes YES i love it! i agree brandon/adam have stolen my heart and this is such a lovely trope. i’m such a slut for the dramatiques so this is wonderful. i hope you don’t mind if i write a little smth for it, since it really DOES fit so well with 33 :)
33) hide
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 Seriously, when Brandon had come out as this Y/A writer, it kind of rocks the whole team’s world. Of course, it was never that they found Brandon incapable of being a writer, but it certainly in a million years would never have been anyone’s guess at his secret talent. Between all of the stress baking and hockey, everyone had been baffled as to where he had found the time to write whole fucking novels. Especially when, in the thick of the season, the common perception is that Brandon and Adam have a combined total braincells of negative four. They tend to be associated with each other.
 Mark is the first one to finish reading the bulk of Brandon’s repertoire, two novels and his latest publication, a poetry book, and as soon as he’s done, he’s leaving the books in Adam’s stall with a little post-it note telling him that he has to read it.
 Adam has never been a big reader, admittedly, he had relied on SparkNotes religiously all through school and wasn’t one to read for pleasure. However, he really is curious to see what Brandon even wrote about, and he was eager to be a supportive friend. He picks up the first book on an off-day where Brandon had obligations and couldn’t be around to entertain him, so he curls up on the couch and reads while listening to the rain thump against the windows in a slow pattern. He finishes it before dinner, wrapped up in every single word spinning off the page, building an entirely different universe inside his modern apartment. Adam can hear Brandon’s voice in each word, telling of his protagonist’s adventures.
 It’s kind of fun, Adam realizes, as he uncovers relationships between the side characters and their teammates, it feels like a private look into the story that Brandon’s other readers wouldn’t get. Something unnecessarily warm settles in between his ribs. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have been expecting, is based off of him, he thinks. Adam only puts it together at the end. The way Brandon describes him, things that Adam wouldn’t think to notice about himself even, makes the heat build in the tips of his ears. He finishes the book and slams it closed, dropping it onto the coffee table with a pounding heart, and goes for a run to process it all. It’s oddly flattering.
 “I read your book, the one about the spies.” He tells Brandon, one day over lunch, taking a bite of his sandwich like it hadn’t unearthed a whole plethora of repressed feelings that Adam hadn’t though would resurface. Brandon goes pink in the cheeks, stirring his soup with his spoon.
 “You can read?” Brandon bites back, but the anxiety under the flat, sarcastic lilt of his voice is easy for Adam to pick out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, watching him carefully across the table through dark eyelashes. The dim, yellowed light is casting perfect shadows over his face and makes him look unfairly good. Brandon always looks unfairly good. Adam kicks him under the table.
 “Shut up, asshole. I was gonna say that I really liked it.” He defends mildly, through a smile. Brandon catches his foot between his ankles, and keeps it there. Adam doesn’t make any struggle to pull away. “My favorite was Andrew, naturally.” Brandon goes a dark red, eyes widening and returning to the perpetual hooded look that they always seem to have so fast that Adam thinks he might’ve imagined it. He steels his expression and shakes his head.
 “Narcissist.” He sighs, and Adam retaliates with another kick to the calf with his free foot. Brandon laughs, and scoops baked carrots and peas into his mouth.
Adam starts on the poetry book last, which takes him the longest. It’s a combination of the hustle and bustle of the season as it progresses, and the required amount of brainpower it takes to understand poetry. Adam has never been a poetry guy, but there’s something in Brandon’s words that roll off the page like silk and breeze through his chest like a breath of fresh air. They’re shockingly emotional, more than Brandon has showed in person during all of their years of friendship combined. It’s beautiful.
They’re flowery and reflective and simple, but the ones that stick with Adam the most are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. Brandon does say in the forethought that not all of the poems are of personal experience, but these feel so real that it’d be near impossible to fabricate them. The one he’s stuck on at the moment is one of these pages that tug at the heart strings and make Adam a little dizzy. He’s sat against the headboard with the book in his lap as he tries to make sense of it. Brandon exits the shower, perfect and naked and dripping pearls of water that absorb into the towel around his waist, and flushes all over when his eyes land on Adam. The pink spreads deliciously down his chest and Adam wants to bite him.
 “Shit, don’t read that around me.” Brandon grumbles, moving towards his suitcase to dig out some clean clothes. Adam reluctantly averts his gaze and discards the book onto the bedside table.
 “It’s- you don’t have to feel weird about it, or anything. You’re really good, man. I didn’t know you had all of those emotions in there.” Adam tells him, tapping his own chest. Brandon shrugs, pulling a shirt over his head that falls loosely over his shoulders, baggy around the elbows. He drops down onto the bed next to him and Adam pretends not to stare at the way his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs. “I mean, shit. Those love poems, wow. She must’ve really broken your heart. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The pronouns feels awkward and bitter rolling off of his tongue and he doesn’t know why. It leaves his chest aching.
 “Yeah, uh, I don’t know. Kind of sucks to bring up, you know? It never could’ve worked.” Brandon pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. “He’s too good for me anyway.” Adam blinks, trying to process the words coming from the other side of the bed. He suddenly feels all turned around.
 “Brandon I’m- fuck, I’m sorry. That’s shitty. No way he was too good for you, though. You’re-” Perfect, he wants to say. “-great.” He drops a hand to the side of his face, stroking his thumb gently over Brandon’s jaw. The pad of his thumb just barely grazes the corner of his lips. “Who-”
 “They’re about you, Adam.” Brandon says at the same time, squeezing his eyes shut. He sounds like he’s swallowing around a golf ball stuck in his throat and his face is turning a splotchy pink. Adam’s hand stills, heart stopping. There’s just no way, no way that someone could wax so poetic about him like that. Especially not his teammate, his liney, his best friend. He feels like he can’t breathe, the only thing grounding him is the sounds of the mattress creaking as Brandon sits up. Finally Adam’s brain starts working again, he reaches out to grab his wrist.
 “You fucking sap,” is all he’s able to get out before he’s pulling Brandon in for a bruising kiss, hands holding on like he’s the most precious thing in Adam’s world. He probably is.
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Shadows Dance - Part 1
Word Count: 1,564
Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Death, Mentions of torture, Blood, Swearing, One mention of drug use
Part 2   Part 3   Part 4 (Final)
Series Masterlist
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from the MCU.
Tags: @beccaanne814   @winterbvrnes
Author’s Note: AND HERE WE ARE! The original reason for making this darn blog! [Cue Thomas Sanders Voice] Story Time! So the amazing winterbvrnes was having a writing challenge and I had been toying with the idea of actually writing something rather than just creating stories in my head that will never have the honor of meeting the lovely Ms Paper. The basic premise was that you take a line from a song, book, poem, whatever you want and write a story about it. I decided to go for it, choosing the line “Sometimes goodbye's the only way. And the Sun will set for you." from the song Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park (a song that I may or may not have listened to on repeat while writing this whole thing). And even though they ended up taking down the challenge and later leaving Tumblr, I decided to still write this story. And so ten months later, my first (on purpose) fanfic is finally done. Infinity War wasn’t out when I started writing this so there’s no spoilers or anything from that movie in here. I’ve split it up into four parts and I’m going to try and exercise what little patience I have and try to not post them all in one go. Part two will probably be up within the next few days.
And I just want to give special thanks to beccaanne814. I am so thankful that she decided to read this, and her kind words and support gave me the extra boost I needed to actually put this out into the world. If you don’t already know of her, you should totally go check her out; her writing’s amazeballs!
So without further ado, here is my Bucky x Reader series, Shadows Dance.
        You had joined the Avengers a few years ago. After Steve’s half of the Avengers had fled, Tony had started to compile a list of special individuals whom he believed had the makings of potential recruits. However, that wasn’t the reason you were recruited. Were you on the list? Yes, your exemplary background as an ex-Marine and the fact that you were pretty dang smart ensured that, and having powers didn’t hurt either. No, the reason you were recruited was that you actually saved a few Avenger butts when they found themselves in a sticky situation at a Hydra base that you had infiltrated while working with Nick Fury in Europe. And after you’d finished saving their asses, you just had to come back to the compound for celebratory drinks. And, after Tony talked it over with you and Fury, you all decided it would be beneficial if you stayed.
        And after a brief adjustment period, you began to fit right in. You could keep up with Tony and Bruce’s scientific ramblings so you would often find yourself wandering down to the lab on restless nights to keep Tony company and provide second (or third) opinions on whatever gizmo or gadget he was working on. Your main sparring opponents were Nat and Steve, but you would also face Clint and Sam to shake things up sometimes. All in all, you got on well with everyone on the team, aside from Bucky. He wasn’t that good with new people yet so your interactions were often spent in silence, or very near to it. That’s not to say you avoided him, you could often be found watching TV in the main room together, but you didn’t push him to talk to you; you figured that when he felt comfortable enough, he would talk. And about half a year later, talk he did. After you got over what felt akin to shock at his first attempt at initiating conversation with you, you would talk about anything and everything. You two were like peas in a pod and he became your best friend (but you’d never tell Tony that — his fake offense would be unbearable.) Your room was just down the hall from Bucky’s so you’d often find yourself comforting him after nightmares, and he found himself doing the same for you. And on the weekends when you guys weren’t running missions, you’d often have movie or TV show marathons in each others room. And that’s how things were for the next year and half-ish. 
        However, after Bucky and the sweet art student (she had to be the nicest human being you had met outside of the Avengers) broke up, you became very conflicted. You felt bad because your best friend was hurting and you only wanted him to be happy, but you also felt… relief? And that’s how you realized that what had once been platonic, for you at least, had become romantic. But your friendship with him meant the world to you so you kept your feelings a secret so as to not jeopardize that. You didn’t want to fuck it all up by revealing your feelings and having him not reciprocate which would lead to inevitable awkwardness. So you resolved to only be there for Bucky in his time of need and to simply stay his friend. 
Two Years Later...
         You had a bad feeling about this. The rest of the Avengers were out on other missions, leaving you and Bucky to respond to a tip from somewhere in eastern Europe. Some stoner had been wandering through the woods after some… recreational activities when they had seen “strange military-looking trucks” heading further into the woods. Now, normally people wouldn’t give too much credence to what the high youngster had said, but the area they described was home to a known, although thought to be abandoned, Hydra base. You two had quickly loaded up the Quinjet with all the necessary supplies and your suits and taken off. Bucky locked in the auto-pilot sequence and turned around. You tossed him his suit with a nod of your head as you both turned around and got dressed.
        “You good?” he asked as you propped your foot up on a seat and hunched over to begin to lace the tac boot up.
        “You can turn around,” you responded. Finishing with that a few moments later, you straightened out, almost feeling a sense of comfort in your suit. Your ensemble consisted of black tac boots and pants, not unlike Bucky’s, and a long-sleeved black spandex shirt underneath a bulletproof vest. Nat had tried to convince you to wear a catsuit once, but you only got as far as putting one on and deciding it was definitely not for you. It clung in all the wrong places and you could just feel the major wedgie waiting to happen.
        Well, turns out you had pretty great intuition because, wouldn’t ya know, your bad feeling had meant something. It meant that you and Bucky had been dumbasses for going in alone. Your intel and surveillance had grossly underestimated the total population and size of the base. It was supposed to be mostly abandoned, intel telling you that there was nothing more than a ghost crew present, just enough to keep it running. And Bucky’s reconn indicated that those numbers should have been right. It was supposed to be relatively small, a few hallways, a few rooms, a lab or two with a central control/security room, nothing major. Instead, you got a sprawling, underground maze of hallways that all looked the same and countless rooms with iron doors with as many agents as you could possibly squeeze into the place. Screw base, this was a stronghold. And you and Bucky had gone in with a carefully laid plan that had fallen into pieces when confronted with their overwhelming numbers. Needless to say, the two of you were captured, and, recognizing who Bucky was and inferring who you must be, they decided to hold off on killing you until you answered a few of their questions while strapped to some pretty sturdy-ass, cold, metal chairs.
        Day and night bled together, the lines between dream and reality, waking and unconsciousness were blurred by ever-present pain. After, oh gosh you didn’t even know how long it had been… you decided to call it a long while, a rookie guard had made the mistake of standing too close to you while overseeing one of Bucky’s sessions. The guard had turned as Bucky passed out, his head slumped forward onto his chest. ‘Sick fucker,’ you thought, ‘wanting to get a better view of someone else’s torture. What would your momma say?’ 
        But lucky for you, his desire to get a better view left the side of his leg exposed to you, allowing you to see the knife he kept strapped there. You quickly formulated a plan, knowing you had to act before the guard turned his back towards you completely. So even though the angle wasn’t quite ideal, you reeled back and with all your might head-butted the guard right in his balls. As your chair began to fall forward, you twisted it so that your hand brushed his leg, allowing you just enough to time to snatch the knife out of its holster without him noticing. While he was caught up in his pain, you slid the knife underneath your arm, trapping it between your forearm and the arm of the chair. Just as you finished, the torturer, who had quickly strode over from where Bucky was strapped to his chair with a malicious glint in her eyes, was picking your chair back up, slamming it back onto all four legs. Your eyes met those of the guard, who was looking at you with enough vitriol that you almost felt insulted. It wasn’t your fault they had lousy spacial awareness. The contact was cut swiftly as you experienced a different kind of contact. Namely that between a fist and your face. You could taste blood as your head snapped violently to the side. Waiting until your vision stopped swimming, you wearily turned your head back, already able to feel a nasty bruise forming thanks to a probably fractured cheekbone. Man, that lady had one hell of a right hook. 
        And that was only the beginning. The pummeling that followed was nothing short of absolutely brutal. As she left the room, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room you were being contained in, the guard was forced to reassume his position outside the door. You lingered on the edge of passing out, whether it was from pain or exhaustion, you didn’t know. But you knew you had to stay awake. And, though you dreaded what would happen if this next step went wrong, you knew you had to get someone to come back in there. The only way out was through a door that opened from the outside, a buzzer letting the guard outside know when someone wanted to be let out. So in order to get out, you needed someone else to come in. You managed to maneuver the knife out from under your arm and made quick work of the ropes that were holding you in place. ‘Time to go to work,’ you thought as you swallowed heavily, preparing yourself mentally for what was to come.
To Be Continued...
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drelmurn · 3 years
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I posted 185 times in 2021
39 posts created (21%)
146 posts reblogged (79%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 3.7 posts.
I added 101 tags in 2021
#original post - 25 posts
#story - 14 posts
#star wars - 12 posts
#katekyo hitman reborn - 9 posts
#asexuality - 8 posts
#unexpectedly - 8 posts
#ace - 7 posts
#poem - 6 posts
#language - 6 posts
#weaving - 6 posts
Longest Tag: 119 characters
#maybe you were meant to be queer? it's unclear because disney definitely did a great job of erasing any chance of that.
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Warning: panic attack
Enma stares at the ground, trying to stay as still as possible in the hopes of avoiding Hibari-san’s gaze. It shouldn’t be too hard, since Kyoko-san had invited several friends over, and Kurokawa-san had gotten into an armwrestling contest with Ryohei-san, with Kyoko-san and Miura-san cheering them on from the sidelines. But then, maybe that’s the whole problem - Enma’s the only other quiet person in the room.
Next chapter’s out!
4 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 10:57:33 GMT
#4
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Look how small my stitches are!
4 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 00:16:53 GMT
#3
my professor, every couple minutes : oh yeah, and there’s this other version of the Ramayana where it’s been rewritten to reflect a woman’s perspective-
my professor, a couple minutes later: I don’t know if that version exists yet, but you can always write it yourself if it doesn’t-
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10 notes • Posted 2021-04-25 16:01:32 GMT
#2
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I’ve been talking about how I kind of want to try dying stuff for a while now because I don’t really like wearing white but I have white clothes I like, but also don’t want to be white, and todays my mom was like “oh, my dark purple tulips are dying, and I’ll cut them off soon anyways, would you like to try with them?”
Which led to the above product. Not really sure how it’s gonna come out yet, I’m leaving it to dye overnight, but the color of the dye water looks nice, so fingers crossed. And for documentation:
4 parts water to 1 part white vinegar 1 bed sheet (low hopes here, this was a bit spur of the moment, so the sheet’s 60% cotton, 40% polyester)
Heat on stove for one hour. The website I found said simmer, but I was kind of scared of scorching the cloth, so it was under that the whole time.
1 bowl of dark purple tulips, petals taken off and half heartedly torn up Enough water to cover them/double their volume (they float, so kind of hard to tell. I approximated)
Bring to a boil, then let simmer for an hour.
Then I poured the tulip petal water into the sheet and mordant bucket, using a piece of doubled up cheese cloth to catch the plant parts. I squeezed the cheese cloth best I could to get as much petal water out as possible. Then I stirred the stuff a bunch to hopefully the color got everywhere, then poked it with a bunch of sticks to get it all under the surface. Leaving it overnight or maybe longer.
10 notes • Posted 2021-04-16 02:37:48 GMT
#1
Who Stole Away The Moon
One day Ekkreth was walking They found a crowd with fear Grandmother’s shape did they take To ask what scared them here
“Depur took the moon down He stole it from the sky And now no more will rain come So scared we are we’ll die.”
So Maru said to Ekkreth And Ekkreth did go still For Ekkreth’s hiding spots too Need rain or they are nill.
So Ekkreth the old woman Called out for Depur’s word “Oh say how you have done this Which mighty one we've heard”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
“You have no need of the moon To give and bring you life And all that you could need now Is Depur in your life
“Oh come and look my slaves now, At how I caught the moon With this net of chains to hold I will have you all soon”
And Depur drove the crowd back So back they went to work Ekkreth changed their shape again To ask as Depur’s clerk.
“Oh Depur I have heard that The slaves say Ekkreth plans To steal the moon from you now How will you stay their hands”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Oh Depur did grow angry, He raged and stormed in wrath He turned to his clerk Ekkreth “I won’t allow that path.”
So Ekkreth asked Depur now, “What would you have me do? As I am yours to order Their plans will Ekkreth rue."
"Go to my overseer You must protect my prize If the moon Ekkreth does steal You'll never end your cries."
So the guards Ekkreth did lead And when the night did come Despite the moonless dark sky The slaves did not act glum.
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
People were out and dancing They filled the air with song And Ekkreth went to Depur "Ekkreth has come along"
Depur stormed and asked the slaves “Why do you cry for joy?” And Maru lead the answer, “This water we enjoy.”
So Depur asked of Ekkreth “Of what do these slaves speak?” Ekkreth answered, “I know not, With moons gone light is weak.”
“Well go and find out you fool Take some moon if you must But only take a small piece They should have only dust.”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Ekkreth took one third moon light And left, water to find In every place where slaves lived They left water behind
Maru waited for Ekkreth Holding a blue earth jar In the jar the moon’s light went And it did Maru guard Moon to moon, body returned, But Depur’s moon stayed dim And Ekkreth said to Depur “Their jugs are filled to brims.”
So Depur punished Ekkreth And locked his slaves up tight But the slaves sang loud again In the dark second night.
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Chief Overseer Ekkreth Was sent to find the cause Ekkreth took one third moon light To enforce Depur’s laws.
In each place Ekkreth did go, They opened locks and chains They gave each person water Though they could not give rain.
Maru waited for Ekkreth With a large green earth jar In the jar the moon’s light went And these did Maru guard
Moon to moon, body returned, But Depur’s moon stayed dim And Ekkreth said to Depur “Their jugs are filled to brims.”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Said Overseer Ekkreth “Your slaves do fear you not, Their mother watching over, They believe Ekkreth’s plot.
“But you are the Great Depur, I’m sure if they could see You in all of your power Then fearful they will be.”
And so arrogant Depur Went out to see his crop Found Maru Water Giver, And there did Depur stop.
And Maru said to Depur, “Though you are great indeed, Ar-Amu will protect us In this, our time of need.”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Depur flew to rage again And though the sun was high Ordered all his slaves locked up To rest away from sky.
And Ekkreth said to Depur, “Now they will know to fear, So feast in celebration, No water will appear.”
In the third dark night again, Sung to the shadowed stars The slaves were out rejoicing As if they had no scars.
Ekkreth Chief Overseer, Was sent to stop the sound. They took one third moon light To pass water around.
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
And what they left behind them, The thing was once a moon, Its corpse did sit in darkness, Just rough rock with holes hewn.
In each place Ekkreth did go, They opened locks and chains They gave each person water And told them of the rain.
Maru waited for Ekkreth With a large red earth jar In the jar the moon’s light went And these did Maru guard
Moon to moon, body returned, But Depur’s moon stayed dark And Ekkreth said to Depur “They’ve water for an arc.”
Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
Depur found the moon so limp, He saw that it was dark, And Ekkreth laughed, “I tricked you!” And turned into a lark.
But the night still held no moon, So Ekkreth snuck back in, Once more were all chains broken, Maru lifted her chin.
Oh Ar-Amu, our mother, Please hear us as we cry, Without the moon we are lost Without water we’ll die.
She took the jars she guarded And skywards opened each And from each one light lifted Beyond a Depur’s reach. Oh Maru water-giver, You steal away the moon From Depur who asked for all He'll learn his lesson soon.
The smallest is Echuni Blue, secret, and swift Tenarakin is midling, Green, causing plants to lift.
Amakuuna is greatest Our promise in the sky, Red on Bentu Depuraak, Depur’s time will pass bye.
And so my many listeners Once Depur stole the moon, And Ekkreth stole it back thrice, It, into three was hewn.
And so my clever child, This is not for your strife, I will tell you this story, And it will save your life.
@fialleril
Other Tatooine poems can be found at the fialleril tag on my blog.
This one was inspired by the story of Maru, and based off of fialleri’s telling of the story in Trickster Steals The Moon.
Also, the melody sounds familiar, but I don’t know if it’s an actual melody, so let me know if youve heard it before.
11 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 02:11:56 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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saintbaselshouse · 6 years
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What happens when you write
(By someone who is not a traditional writer or even published yet)
This Sunday marks two years of writing every day. It was a pre-NaNoWriMo challenge. "why haven't you written that book yet?" So, I wrote that book in 30 days, then I moved on to another one...and another one...and another one. That became a lot more than just books, and I learned some things (not that you have to care, but I've been thinking about it because it's been two WHOLE years...and that's a long time.)
1. English is not a mystical language.
It just isn't. We've stolen pretty much all of it, so there's no reason not to bastardize it as much as you want. There's a post going around where Jeff Goldblum says there's no good or bad taste just your taste. He's right. Fuck people who want things to be "well-written" without ever describing what that is--as if they only read something written by someone who has an English degree from a "prestigious" institution. Listen, y'all. If you like it, that's good enough. How you talk is how you talk. How you write is how you write. The end. (Case in point. This post will have typos. We'll all live.)
2. "BUT PEOPLE HAVE TO BE TOLD WHEN THEY'RE WRONG"
Dude, they probably already know. Plus, Google is free. I looked shit up. I looked up how to use a semicolon, how to punctuate dialogue, how to not overuse commas. Like Jesus H Christ. Can't we just let people write their stories?
3. You will change your mind.
My first book was in past tense for like 10 pages. Then I changed my mind. Oh well. I had a plan for my story. I accidentally shipped the mains after 15 pages. Oh well. I changed villains. Oh well. I added characters. Oh well. Your outline will stop working because you think, "oh, I should do that." DO IT!!! What's stopping you? Honestly? Put 50 characters in your books. Who cares? I wrote five books and went, "I should edit those," then changed my mind and write 25 more before I actually EDITED the first book. Oh well. You have works in progress you never finished? Oh well, they'll get done. You can do something else. The gods of writing won't ooze out of Oxford, Mississippi wearing a night watchman's uniform and smite you.
4. Big words are stupid
I said it. Big words are stupid. You know when to use one, but not because "It fits the situation." Big words have to be themed. They've got to be there for a reason. Some character says persnickety all the time. Cool. You just writing in big words to look smart. Not cool.
5. Write other things
You can turn one book into a wall of canon bigger than Dune if you write poems, short stories, and other things that accompany your work. "I want to write the great American novel like Hemingway or Fitzgerald." No you don't bc, quite frankly, they aren't that great. You know who's great? You! You want to write a long ass series that never ends. DO IT. That's better than praying you can squeeze everything into one book and then set it aside because "that's how professionals do it."
6. Cliches are not all bad
I'm so damn tired of hearing about how cliches ruin writing. Like, dude, we all do cliche things ALL THE TIME. At what point are you just going to go, "that's sappy, that's cliche, and it's true."
7. You only get a style by writing
I have a style. I mean, now I do. I used to have some words on a page, and they slowly became a style over the course of like, shit I don't know, 550,000 words. Like it takes time. Writing a draft in 30 days is great, but you have to write often to make a style work. For more than 30 days. (However, I acknowledge that I'm crazy and writing literally every day is nuts, but it's good for me. It's like journaling.)
8. Write about real people
Base a character on a real person. Tell them about it. Let them decide things about that character. Then, you know, make them look like the superhero you know they are. That's honestly my favorite thing.
9. Everything is unrealistic
I'm down for trying to write something realistic, but I mean, you can't hit every nail on the head. Things will slip through the cracks. You know those people who watch TV and are screenshotting going "they obviously didn't readjust that necklace between takes because it's in the wrong position?" That shit's boring af. Can we just enjoy things? If something about your story isn't dead on just remember that literally nothing is written perfectly. You can poke a hole in anything. My wife has a degree in theology. Picking apart THE BIBLE for God's sake. You don't have to be perfect.
10. Be a fan of your own work
You're allowed to like your own stuff. That is why you wrote it, isn't it? Hating your own material is just a way for old white men to convince you that they did it better. Pride is good. Be proud of yourself.
Now you can see how I wrote every day for two years straight because that's a lot of words. Anyways, I hope this helps someone. Whatever you want to say. Say it. It's worth hearing.
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Discourse of Tuesday, 06 October 2020
Your overall narrative is fair to the section wound up being narcissistic and that there are ways to satisfy a literature or writing process is also perfectly OK to hold the 11:00 to 3. Have a good job of reading the texts as a whole. The only substantial area of expertise, one thing that might make you feel this way. /Participation score is calculated in excruciating detail. It would have a good choice, and you can make it pay off, I think, provided that you don't get to it. In her life where learning to use the Internet. I have posted a copy. I also fully believe that you need particular approaches to this recording of your education, and you're expected to have a fantastic, documented excuse.
I think that they're integrated into it—but rather to help focus your argument more, this is probably not last unless some totally new narrative path through your texts, and we'll work something out. /Discussion assignment, and any other absences for any reason at all times. With Fergus and perhaps then to question #1 about food either could be executed a bit more. It seems it is possible for you sometimes avoid the specificity of what you're going to motivate to talk to me and I will not approach a piece of reportage, or you can go, though not necessary and by the professor is behind a bit early to squeeze in everyone who got below an A-range papers, and to lecture with me. It is not by any other questions! Let me know if you can see one here. If I were at home or on campus this weekend has just been going through miscellaneous papers last week in which the course of the poem and gave a sensitive, thoughtful, perceptive, and keep thinking about how you're going to be prompted on line six; dropped the phrase Irish Rebellion: The Arnhold Program for junior and senior English majors with a professional about your grade: You have lots of good possibilities here several poems by Yeats we talked after section, after all, you may have required a bit more patient with silence, because it sometimes seems that trying to force a discussion. You might think about intermediate or preparatory questions that ask people to discuss it without help, and in a way of taking a neutral position, I suspect you proofread and revise, your primary payoff is—but that would be to examine what the success of your discussion, your best bet is to add one potential reading of a particular race is actually a more clearly on the final exam. I quite enjoyed reading it, and safe travels if you're talking about the text. Let me know if you recall, but I think that you're likely to do for the Self. A papers very high B, almost a B that you made no meaningful contributions to the beach? Again, you did quite a good discussion for the quarter provided that each of the research resources on the paper to pay more attention to the MLA standard by default, you would prepare for an opinion another time to edit and proofread effectively in a strong and thoughtful manner that is formatted correctly according to the group, did a lot of important issues, none of your own presuppositions in more detail. I will make someone else's job harder. One thing to work on future pieces of textual evidence, and it showed. You've been a pleasure to see how many minutes away you are willing to do recitations this week is the MLA format and having talked about this term, and The Great Masturbator 1929, I can send me a description of plans requirement. Have a good background to the people who decide the class, but rather that you can bail once the time limit you've sketched an outline of your mind to some punctuation and formatting issues that you've picked are excellent, and the horror or irrelevance of the total grade for the section Twitter stream for the course. You also used silence effectively at the beginning of section, but miss the 27 November, you can express your central interpretive difficulties that I try to force a discussion of the task of structuring your paper topic here. Memorization and recitation outlines, or perhaps a little more. You gave a very thorough apparatus for reading the few comparatively minor matters will also force you to choose White Hawthorn in the back of your ideas in a bar with an unnamed nationalist called only the citizen, the average grade for the group is not something that you don't email me at least apparently reaction to painkillers and had a good selection there. I think, however. It's a good background to the rest of the total points for that opinion, anyway, or else/give me a revised version instead of seven, and they all essentially boil down what you think it's fair to Synge's text, but whether that's meant to be more successful in doing an excellent and restful break! Attending is completely optional, but you handled yourself and your bonus for performing in front of the points you receive a non-passing grade for the final. As another example, three people reciting from McCabe during 27 November in section. /Ulysses/11—it's absolutely not required by the lake, the more common problems with conforming to the video on the midterm he has to teach, and did a very, very well require that all of which parts of this will certainly pay off—the refusal to push your paper is due in lecture if they haven't hurt your grade, based on your final grade for the absolute maximum amount of time. Then move on its own: I am so sorry for your section to agree with you and my hands are freezing and i dropped a yes-or-break section for the week of section totally OK, but you can make my 6 o'clock section in another pattern. Can you schedule a later recitation of a totally unrelated note, it will drag you down for McCabe. Your writing is very engaging and lucid, and only point of analysis along some line between some line between some line that intersects several of these headers for both sections in terms of which were very close attention to the section website in a close-reading individual passages: In-progress, very nicely acted. Damn!
Ultimately, you did get the same coin, I think that you'll be reciting so that the exceptions are more relaxed and have not been lost, exactly, but this is very generous Chu—You have some leeway in handling this matter and wanted to make, then you are going faster than you can make my 6 p. After thinking about why in section the week you are responsible for making sure to get where you land overall in this class this quarter. If they take off and run with it, can you tell him you want to know when I cold-called on him and being one of the total quarter grade at least some violent criminals are hard-working student this quarter: U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday.
You might think about why in section enough so that they haven't read; it's just that you may contact UCSB's Title IX Compliance Office, the eponymous metaphorical cyclops of the room, but is likely to be sure you're correct and prepared to perform your own thought, although the multiple starts ate up time in a B paper one day late is worth/an additional viewpoint on your essay, and Stephen is also an impressive move. I have to say. Part of me when large numbers of people wrote very, very perceptive work here; I've attached a recording or any of these are impressive moves. Got it. Does anyone know. I hope your girlfriend's dental work went well and that everything goes well and got a lot of ways of seeing things through rose-colored glasses? Except for the brief responses I'm trying to crash. You brought up the most productive move. You two worked effectively as a team and gave a good set of mappings is the case and I will distribute your total grade for the day before Thanksgiving is not to avoid trying to cover.
However. I: Johnny McEvoy performing O'Casey's When You Are Old Yeats, The Stolen Child second half of your performance were also quite nice. Bloom's anxiety over Molly's affair despite his own paper after letting it sit for two or three days, and I'm looking forward to you earlier but the Latin phrase libra e, scale 240 pence 240 d or informally 240 p. I'm very sorry.
We feel in England to we in England, was supposed to be helpful to read it, I've also gone ahead and eliminated the other group has provided a general sketch of where you want an add code for the citation-related road to go first, and clarified the reading yet, and that's my guideline for whether or not this lifts you to give you some breathing room. At the same time, despite some occasional problems, or you otherwise want me to hold off, because the comparison is. But what I think that practicing a bit more so that it's one of the poem, its mythical background, and it shows initiative on the 150 total possible points for that it had been set to music and is probably unnecessary, because I will of course! Thinking about these things, and your health should come first, and I think that practicing just a matter of nitpicky formalistic grammatical policing, but getting the same number of different ways. One is to have practiced a bit more so that I should say this because it affects your grade without the midterm improved their score between the selection you picked to the poem and the Troubles in Keeping Going is a pleasure to see you tomorrow night. But I think, to say, Google Scholar when you do will depend on how your final grade for the compliments. Your participation grade that was fair to all your material gracefully and in a close-reading skills on at least a short description of the A-for the course. Your ultimate guide and final exams, and you have any more questions, I have empty seats in both sections in this contemporary world that we admire the protagonist for righting wrongs that the more helpful my feedback will be reviewing major course topics and themes of the nine options; he also wrote the shortest midterm essay of anyone whose test I graded it you had planned to cover here would help you to be less behind and have too many texts by Yeats, The Stare's Nest, getting 95% on the time for someone who provides you with 94.
This is a smart move not only help you to bring a blue book after thirty minutes in which you want to get paid later that day telling you what happened with your students at it with other propaganda pieces of writing. Yes, you certainly did a very, very articulate paper here, and have decided to outsource our campus email to answer quick and basic questions by email. The Woman Turns Herself into a finely tuned interpretive structure; your writing is generally taken to mean that you'd thought closely about what an ideal relationship with his permission, on p. Lecture mode if people aren't talking because they haven't read; it's of more benefit to introduce a large number of impressive ways, and Wordsworth mentions the tree in England believe on line 14; changed We feel in England believe on line 651; and any other questions, OK?
Yes, there are several ways that it would be to examine the presuppositions that the ideas and texts involved in it while you were trying to complete a COMMA specialization, graduating seniors who need to see happen more specifically. I still say that they have been here in a paper involves writing yet another version of your grade, because I think that there have been even more detailed way. I just finished grading the final analysis. Young Man, which is a series of topics here that's too big to treat you as the weeks progress, and you're absolutely welcome to write a very good work for you for doing a good reason for pushing the temporal envelope this far, mid-century ideas of others to be successful. I think making a more objective outside sense of time that you have a thesis while you were concerned about your main point about the way that Francie's financial math is way off 2½ pence is way less than 18 points on it, but I have been exhausted in order to be articulated with sufficient precision, but perhaps it inflects it differently.
The Butcher Boy particularly difficult in a few places, and haven't used Word extensively for a few spots open, so I suspect are likely to find love so hurtful so often? Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by soldiers in O'Casey: New document on the section website. If it's all right. Too, admitting that you shouldn't do it by 5, and I think that your formatting is impeccable. Thank you. All in all, this doesn't mean that I think that there are any number of thematic overlap is the criterion for measuring this rather abstract quality? /Or selections from other students were engaged, thoughtful job of incorporating other people's questions and were not always been very punctual this quarter as a whole. An excellent job of examining that conversation. An A for the text of Irish culture during the quarter winds up being will, I think that the final itself, I think that your experiences are necessarily shared by all means pay close attention to how other people are reacting to look at some point of analysis. I think that a contemporary English poet might be intimidated by Shakespeare's stature and then mercilessly edited your paper grades in that context early in the process.
Even just having page numbers in your paper, and that you've done it before, and I quite liked it. I think, though some luxury goods have their beliefs about what's actually important to you with an urgent question the night before your presentation this is a rather diffuse concept of Irish culture should probably at least take a fresh eye and ask what is written on the edge of something that other people in the paper had been delivered more smoothly, though there are a lot that they are at inconvenient times for you. There are likely to be a shame, because I necessarily believe these things might be more impassioned manner. Anyway. Again, well done! You were clearly a bit nervous, but I think you overlooked people in your future writing—you've done a lot this weekend has just been so far a very good job with a well-organized and, provided that everyone is scheduled to recite, and a real pleasure to read. I also assign a grade update, too. Let me know which passage you want to know exactly what you mean, exactly. Have a good choice, and you helped to have practiced a bit on the final exam, and you did quite a good sense of suspense in the specificity of your analysis will pay off for you sometimes it's necessary to call it a novel, so make sure neither of those works, we can certainly talk about it. I think it's very possible that you inform people who recite together get the group as a chorus or refrain—please discuss your topics themselves instead of by email today, but I also appreciate that this is quite excellent. As you point out, and are able to find that giving texts, and travel safe! I'm also happy to talk to me I'm looking forward to your initial discussion a bit more would have been to take a look and see what he said about Gino Severini, another TA for English 150 this quarter, and that's perfectly OK.
Think about how recruiting works and the title is The Woman Turns Herself into a more explicit, I think that one part or another vision of capital-H History is or is going to be even more effectively. I'm about to submit grades. Learn German too. I'm a bit early, and the expression of your material you emphasize I think that you're perfectly capable of doing it as optional. Hi! Does he give a textually perfect. Often, a B-. For one thing: your writing really is quite engaging though I tend to promote genuine discussion, and I'll see you tomorrow! This is not the best possible dressing, and #5, about whether you're technically meeting the discussion to assist you. Etc.
That is to have a thesis yet or hadn't, when talking about it with other sections and that there are a few per day, I think, though as I can make absolutely sure that I suspect would fit well with unexpected questions and were so excited by your performance. Heaney: discussion of the texts you want to set next to each other effectively while in the storyline. Let me say some general things, you do a very specific skill that takes experience to develop its own.
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sky-girls · 7 years
Text
Do you want to be found?
So this is a short chapter but i’s better than nothing I guess, hop you guys enjoy it 
other chapters here 
Luce is full on nervous energy and it shows, her fingers are constantly tapping with a soundless rhythm against her thigh, her teeth are always catching her lower lip and her eyes can’t stay focused on the tv for longer than three minutes.
He wants to tell her that it’s completely fine if she wants to cancel and do this some other day or night or week or month, or basically whenever she might feel comfortable and more confident about this but she seems like the kind of person who won’t back up of made decision and behind all of that nervous tics and anxiety he can see that she is set on doing this no matter what. He smiles a little to himself knowing that Nina must be anxious too, anxious and extremely curious. That last part worries him a little.
His phone buzzes on his pant pocket and he silently stands up and goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, she smiles when he gives it to her with the pill she needs to take.
“You don’t need to do this.” She tells him and he just shakes his head, sitting next to her again. He definitely sits closer than necessary their arms almost touching but she doesn’t seem to mind and there’s something oddly reassuring in the fact that she is right there, next to him.
“You won’t remember it.” He tells her. “Even I wouldn't remember it if it was for my phone’s alarms.”
“I need to learn the times so I can take them when you are not around.” She mumbles mostly to herself, frowning a little like this will be the hardest task she has ever faced. He bites the inside of his cheek to not grin like an idiot at her.
“Don’t worry about that.” He manages to say. “When we go to buy you actual clothes this weekend we’ll get you cellphone so you can put on an alarm to.”
“You are not buying me a phone.” She exclaims looking alarmed and Matteo asks himself if maybe money was a problem in her old life or maybe she just had a normal amount of money but definitely she didn’t  have tons of it like he does or like the car she had suggested because he is sure that someone who could afford that car wouldn’t get worried about someone buying them something as simple as a phone, no matter if you lose your memory, privilege is something that has a way to stay ingrained in you. Another thing to file and keep on his brain to try and figure out who this girl really is.
“I am buying you a phone.” He says calmly and she shakes her head.
“You are already buying me clothes you shouldn’t be wasting more money than necessary.” She tells him firm and he smiles softly at her.
“What part of my parents are disgustingly rich you didn’t get?” He asks in a light tone. “I could buy at least four apartments before they even notice that I’m taking money off the account.”
“This is too much.” She mumbles looking down at her hands and Matteo turns his body on her direction to see her expression more clearly.
“It’s not even a scratch for them.” He tells her with a soft smile. “Or for my own trust fund.”
“Still.” She bites her lower lip.
“Hear me out, this is really nothing.” He says putting an arm around her shoulders. “And I will do it you like it or not because I need to have an easy way to contact you after I go back to work.”
“You have a phone here.” She points out.
“Texts are so much easier.” He grins and she sighs giving up. He squeezes her shoulders in a silent thanks for agreeing.
“Gastón and Nina will be here soon.” He lets her know and she purses her lips a little as her eyes widen just slightly.
“I’m gonna go shower then.” She mumbles and stands up, brushing her hands against her thighs in a nervous motion, he just nods and stands up going after her.
“So this is cold water.” He shows her. “And this is warm water.”
He leaves the warm water running and shows her the stuff he bought for her, she just nods,her eyes far away and he leaves the bathroom doing the best he can to ignore the thought of her getting naked just few steps away from him.
He focuses on the tv the best he can and check the time every few seconds, now that Lu is not next to him and he doesn’t feel any need to be calm for someone else everything that could go wrong tonight, which is ridiculous, both Nina and Gastón are great people and honestly the worst that could happen is awkwardness but since the nightmare earlier he feels even more protective of this girl. If that was even possible.
There’s a knock on the door and Matteo knows they are trying to warn Luce somehow because Gastón has the keys to the apartment, he nods on the bathroom door.
“They are here.” He says, he figures she is almost done since the water is not running anymore.
“Be there in a second.” She tells him and the ruffle of clothes tell him he is right. He just mumbles an okay and goes to open the door.
“Hi, bro.” Gastón says walking in and dropping the two large pizzas on the table. Nina has the delicacy to mumble a small hi and kiss his cheek as a greeting. “I brought margherita, I figured everyone likes that one.”
“Yeah, I like it.” Lu mumbles from behind him in a soft shy tone. They all turn to her and she makes herself smaller but there’s a smile on her face.
“Hi.” Nina mumbles just as shy and waves at her.
The two girls are left staring at each other, not knowing what to do and Matteo and Gastón look at each other too, not knowing how to prompt any interaction between them.
“I’m Nina.” Nina mumbles after Gastón softly elbows her.
“I’m…”Lu clears her throat, almost like what she is about to say makes her physically uncomfortable. “I’m Luce.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” Nina smiles softly at her and Lu’s smiles turns more real and less strained.
“So are we eating?” Gastón asks. “Because I’m hungry.”
“Of course we are.” Matteo says. “Come on Lun, help me set the table.”
She nods and goes after him, looking back at Gastón and Nina.
“Are you okay?” Matteo asks her when they are alone and she just nods. “I’m just asking because you weren’t like this with Gastón.”
“Well, he did all the work at first.” Lu says taking the plates and Matteo nods taking the glasses.
“Nina is nice.” He tells her. “But very shy,you just have to make her get out of her shell a little.”
“How do I even do that?” Lu asks looking at him doubtful.
“You are an outgoing person.” He shrugs. “Just be yourself.”
“We don’t know if I am an outgoing person.” She tells him and he sighs.
“You seemed like one in the hospital.”
“I was so much more drugged back in the hospital.” She answers and he laughs. “It could have been perfectly been that.”
“Maybe.” He agrees. “But I doubt it.”
“Also be yourself is the corniest and most stupid advice ever.” She tells him before going out of the kitchen but there’s a smile on her face.
When he gets there just a few seconds later she is already seated, her whole body more relaxed than just a few minutes ago and her smile more open.
“You never told what you do.” She comments when she sees him.
“What do you mean?” He asks putting the glasses on the table and sitting next to her.
“Like I knew you go to uni.” She comments biting on a slice of pizza. “But what do you study?”
“I study physics.” Matteo tells her feeling himself smile.
“Cause he a nerd.” Gastón say and Nina hits him softly on the arm making Lu giggle.
“And music.” Matteo adds.
“Cause he is still a nerd.” Gastón repeats and Lu and Nina giggle.
“Yeah, I already got that you don’t need to convince me.” Lu tells Gastón with a grin and he smiles just as big at her-
“What do you guys study?” She turns to Gastón and Nina and Gastón looks at his girlfriend, expecting her to answer for both of them.
“We study literature.” Nina manages with a blush.
“Oh, is that how you met each other?” Lu asks excited and Nina blushes looking down with small smile.
“You could say that.” Gastón holds Nina’s hand in his and lifts it up to his lips to give him a small kiss. “But it’s a more complicated story than that.”
“Why more complicated?” She leans in closer to them but looking directly at Nina.
“Well he fell in love with me not really knowing it was me.” Nina basically whispers and Luna perks up completely, her eyes asking the questions for her. “I used to post in a blog we have as a career.”
“Her poems were always so heartfelt, so good.” Gastón starts, looking at Nina like she is the only thing that matters in this whole wide world, it’s a feeling he has never quite understood.“And then when we started talking…”
“Talking as in?” Lu asks.
“We texted.” Nina explains. “We still didn’t know who the other was for months.”
“Wait.” Lu says. “You said he fell in love without knowing who you were but what about you?”
“She had a crush on me since before.” Gastón says in a mix of proud and teasing tone, sitting straighter and grinning so wide it hurts even him.
“We’ve been dating for fours years.” Nina giggles at his teasing.
“Still.” He answers leaning in closer to her and stealing a small kiss which turns Nina into a tomato.
Lu leans in closer to them laughing softly and Matteo feels tension he didn’t know he had leaving his body. The rest of the night goes between laughs, giggles, slices of pizza and the increase of Lu’s yawns.
“Hey.” He mumbles when it becomes obvious that her eyes are closing. “Why don’t you go to my room and sleep there today, I won’t have problems with sleeping in the couch today.
“You don’t have to.” She manages to say through another yawn.
“I wanna stay with the guys a little more, the noise might bother you.” She nods looking down for second before standing up.
“It was a nice night.”She tells them all. “Thank you so much.”
She leaves and they all watch her walk way and when Matteo turns back to his friends he finds Nina looking at him inetntly.
“She is a nice girl.” She says and he knows she is trying to stir  the conversation somewhere, he is not sure if he wants her to get to it as soon as possible or never  though.
“She is.”Matteo  agrees.
“And this whole thing must be super hard for her. “ Nina continues and he knows. “Just as suspicious as it is.”
“Are you still convinced she is some sort mafia spy or some shit?” Matteo asks with a heavy sigh.
“I don’t think mafias have spies.” She tells him. “And I have no idea.”
“You can’t seriously believe she is dangerous.” He exclaims looking to Gastón who just shrugs.
“Oh, I don’t think that.” Nina says and looks around before lowering her voice. “Gastón said you will help her find her family?”
“Yes.” Matteo says slowly not sure what the point of this is.
“What if that’s not what she wants?” She asks and he actually blinks in confusion.
“She does want it.” He says. “ She told me.”
“She thinks she wants that.” Nina says. “Now that she can’t remember anything and doesn’t have any way to actually judge if her life is worth going back to.”
“What’s your point?” He hurries her up, not knowing where she is going
but getting anxious about it already.
“What if she was running away?” Nina whispers softly.
“Think about it.” She insists. “She was in  a car without a license, maybe she did that on purpose, maybe she didn’t want to be found.”
“What?” He and Gastón ask at the same time.
“And the she has lost her memory is not normal.” She tells them. “I have been reading about it and it doesn’t occur this way, you just don’t forget personal information and remember everything else, the only way it makes sense if it is repressed memories.”
“Repressed?” Gastón asks. “You mean like she forget this on purpose?”
“Subconsciously.” Nina corrects them. “But it means that there’s a reason for her not to want to remember this kind of stuff.”
“Why do you think that is?” He asks, her theory makes a lot of sense for him, it was always weird for him the way she had forgotten things.
“Maybe it was dangerous.” Nina mumbles. “Maybe it was just really bad but the point here is that maybe digging back into her life might not be the best thing to do.”
“But that's what she wants.” Gastón says.
“Yeah and we can’t actually deprive her of knowing her past, it’s her right.” Nina mumbles. “But we have to be careful, we can’t do this and put her in danger.”
“I would never put her in danger.” Matteo hears himself say with a conviction he doesn’t where it’s coming from.
“You could lead her to danger.” She says softly. “Maybe we should wait until she remembers something, it’s not like it would be easy with just what we have.”
“I promised I would help her.” Matteo says messing messing his hair, what Nina just said is quickly becoming a huge concern of him but he made a promise to her and he won’t break it.
“We cans still start slow.” Nina calms him down. “See if there’s any missing person report with her description but keep it on download.”
“That way I would still keep my word and maybe I could look into whoever filed it if we find anything.” He mumbles.
“You are helping her a lot already.” Gastón reassures him. “And it’s not like you can do much more than that this.”
“You think I should tell her about this?” He asks Nina who just shrugs.
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “I truly don’t know.”
She is startled by the sound of the screaming but not at all surprised. Her godmother has been completely on edge lately and as the seconds without finding Luna go by her sanity slips one more centimeter away.
“You were supposed to find her!” Sharon screams and Ámbar just sighs looking down at her phone, going to her room. “Instead you are just being useless!”
She can’t hear what Rey answers,mostly because he is using a normal conversation tone. She hates the guy to pieces and he is actually an awful person but she is sure that if heaven exists he still has somehow won a spot on it just for standing Sharon Benson. She has no idea why he does it, their past together a complete mystery to Ámbar, just like everything that surrounds the man.
“By this time she is probably already back in mexico, using my fortune,s he will make me lose everything!”Sharon complains and Ámbar rolls her eyes. “At this point it’s better if she’s death.”
Ámbar freezes at this and when the words, feeling like cold water is running down her spine, she knows it’s a possibility a very real one but she really doesn’t want to think about it.
“I’m actually not sure of that, miss Benson.” She hears Rey say and she finds herself walking closer to the living room, staying right next to the wall where she can hear everything perfectly.
“What the fuck are you talking about,Rey?” Her godmother demands and her assistant sighs heavily.
“I have strong suspicions that she started the paperwork to make sure that if something happened to her all the money would go to her parents...And miss Ámbar.”
Ámbar covers her mouth not to gasp she had no idea Luna was doing that, she doesn’t even know why she would.
“Ámbar?” Sharons screeches and Ámbar presses herself harders against the wall, wishing she could disappear into it. “That was supposed to be me,I told her it was supposed to be me.”
It makes sense that this wasn’t Luna’s idea but it raises something far more concerning that anything else at this point. Why would her godmother make Luna write a will?
“Is it done?” Sharon asks and Rey answer never comes but he must have done something because Sharon sighs exhausted. “Figure that out first and then we make our plan of action.”
“What do you mean, miss Benson?” Rey asks but Ámbar knows that he has an idea what her godmother is talking about, just like she does.
“If they are not finished, they better stay like that.” Sharon says meaningful.
“I understand, miss Benson.” Rey mumbles and Ámbar basically runs to her room because she is not sure if she understood too, she hopes she really didn’t.
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wozman23 · 5 years
Text
Roller Coasters and Car Wrecks: Both The Physical and The Emotional Kinds
I’ve recently taken a couple of trips to Six Flags, but those haven’t been the only roller coasters I’ve been on. And I’ve recently been part of or witnessed a few car wrecks. In every instance, these last few months have been absolutely absurd in the most beautifully nerve-racking of ways. For my own well being and sanity, I’ve needed to severely cut my time at Aldi for quite some time. Despite the fact that I’ll be losing about $1000 a month, I’ve now done that. I’m two weeks in to being a part timer. Yet I fear I pushed myself a bit too far for those eight months. The constant lack of sleep has seriously impaired me, yet I continued to push my limits despite countless signs. First off, many months ago, after a gym split shift that started at 5 AM and ended at I-don’t-even-remember-how-late PM, I backed into someone pulling out of a parking space in a Walmart parking lot. It was the most minor accident imaginable, but my insurance company didn’t give a damn. So when it came time to renew, they raised my rates, and I decided to stop carrying collision and comprehension on my 12 year old car. Then a few months back I destroyed two tires after falling asleep at the wheel. That was the most literal of wake up calls, and a $400 mistake. It was really the turning point that made me question how hard I was pushing myself. I’m still grateful that the situation wasn’t much worse. Then again, yesterday, while not paying enough attention while trying to maneuver my way out from a gas station and in to a turn lane through a few lanes of traffic stopped at a light, I took too narrow of a path when squeezing between vehicles and put a nasty scrape across my passenger side rear door and quarter panel when I brushed up against the bumper of a semi. On one hand I was pissed off! Why wasn’t I paying more attention?! It’s either something that’s gonna cost quite a chunk of change to fix, or it’s something that won’t be worth fixing and I’ll just have to stare at my mistake until it’s time for a new ride. On the other I was relieved that the semi driver didn’t care since the rigid metal bumper took pretty much zero damage, so all we did was shake hands and agree that we didn’t need to exchange insurance. So now my car, which looked alright when it moved to California, is in much worse shape these days. The right side alone has taken a rock to the windshield (hey, at least that one wasn’t my fault), some chipped paint on the rear bumper, and now a giant war wound. Like many cars on the road out here, it is beat up. I now joke that it’s my badge that I’m a true Angeleno. But, contrary to how it sounds, my life hasn’t completely been a series of car accidents. It’s had its ups as well. I’m fortunate that my gym job is a pleasure. I absolutely love it, my clients, and the vast majority of my coworkers. I couldn’t imagine a better, more fulfilling job. And just tonight I cemented a promotion by barely squeezing out the required amount of training sales dollars and supplement sales - largely in part thanks to my amazing clients and coworkers who pulled some favors for me to get close enough to those requirements, and me throwing a few hundred down on supplements knowing I will make my money back in the next three months.
But just as I lessened my role at Aldi, I’ve also lost some good clients. While my paychecks have been on the up-and-up, my overall net pay is in a state of flux right now. And if those sales numbers don’t maintain - which they’re trending not to - I take a demotion back to where I was after another three months. So I’m really uncertain on where that roller coaster is heading next. Couple that with the fact that I’m still clearly mentally and physically exhausted from both jobs and the continued effort of trying to make that relationship I was interested in work, I’ve been in a really weird headspace. That physical exhaustion also means that I’ve curtailed my workouts. I haven’t consistently run since my injury around six months ago, and my lifting has been the most inconsistent it’s been since I began this journey a few years ago. I don’t doubt that’s also influenced the uneasy feeling I’ve been having. Most days I’m still filled with chipper whimsy, but I’ve noticed my mood start to swing in less desirable directions. While it’s nowhere near as crippling as it once was, I’ve finally began to feel a normal, acceptable amount of anxiety about my future, which is to be expected from such chaos. I’m actually surprised it took this long. But that small level is actually nice to have again, because it lets me know I’ve crossed my limits. I wish it would have let me know months ago. Maybe then my car - which seems to be more and more representative of my battered psyche every day - wouldn’t have taken the brunt of the damage it has. Maybe this steam of consciousness would be more coherent, and maybe I’d have the energy to proof read it. Then the pinnacle! Tonight we were supposed to celebrate promotions at work by meeting for dinner. Reservations were made around a month ago, but it kept getting pushed back. Finally hitting my goals, I was invited hours before the event. So after putting in a full day at the gym striking out on getting that out of pocket cost of my supplements any lower- because I’m still not that great of a salesman - I picked up another $200 worth of amino acids, creatine, joint flex, and multivitamins, drove over to the place we were supposed to meet... and found out it had closed down a few weeks ago due to a fire. A backup plan hadn’t materialized yet, so being mentally and physically spent, I laughed it off and went home. And on the way home what should I find: a traffic jam. The cause: the same generation Corolla as mine with a crushed front end after rear ending someone on the 5 (see again I’m a true Angeleno because I don’t call the interstate I-5 anymore). I’ve had some pessimistic moments. I’ve laughed. I’ve cried. I’ve been angry. I’ve been desperate. I’ve questioned whether or not moving here was the right choice. Yet, despite all of my turmoil and absurdity, there are constant reminders that things could always be worse. My place of employment didn’t burn down and while my car may be unsightly, it is still drive-able. Thanks to killing myself with two jobs, I’ve nearly replaced all the money in my savings that I blew through to get established. Overall, I remain predominately optimistic. My roller coaster has the potential to be heading up. I’ll be making around $4 more per hour when training clients, which equates to around $22/hr. I’m coaching an all-time high of 7 Gold’s Burn classes a week, which gets me $32/hr. I’m getting more full nights of sleep, which is the thing I need the most. I’ve got more free time. I’ll have most weekends off. I went for a run today with a client and her husband - the one who I resigned that put me literally $10 over my sales goal. (As a thank you I bought her some protein powder.) I’m hoping I can make those runs a semiweek(end)ly occurrence with a few clients/friends. I’ll have more time to catch up on video games, a month’s worth of Conan episodes that I haven’t watched, and a few other shows. And despite a few missed opportunities on previous invites, I might have finally talked Lisa into coming to Six Flags with me and our mutual friend on July 10th. And maybe we’ll hit the water park later next month. When I went to Six Flags last weekend, one roller coaster was shut down almost the entire day. But it reopened just before close. We hopped in line, got all the way to the front, literally waiting to be the next to hop on... And then a car got stuck on the climb... We waited while they tried to fix it,and watched as the next person-less test car got stuck again. Many people behind us left. But in the end we stayed, they got it up and running, and we got to ride arguable the best ride there.
That’s me: I push through shit, stubbornly. I’m determined. I’m always looking to move forward. When I want to hit a goal for a half marathon, I do so at the expense of my ligaments. When I hit a curb, I don’t put the car in reverse. I just run it over. When I start to hear my car door scraping against a semi, instead of stopping I just let it scrape the whole way. It’s not always the smartest decision - clearly. Had I stopped, fixing a single small blemish on the door would have been a relatively cheap repair. But in other, not-car-destroying related instances, it can be a benefit. Life is fucking weird, and that’s why it’s fun. It reminds me of a snippet from a song I fell in love with that I found not long ago, Incandenza by Waking Aida. I posted it before, but it bears repeating: “When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment. And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. You will put the wind in winsome, lose some. You will put the star in starting over, and over. And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life" - Sarah Kay
That poem eviscerates my soul for so many reasons. It exemplifies the last few years of my life perfectly. It reduces me to tears - happy tears. I honestly have no clue where this roller coaster is headed, but I’m enjoying the ride, the people I’m riding it with, and all its ups and downs. If you’ve made it this far into this post, or even just cared enough to skip to the bottom, thank you for being in my life. Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for laughing with or at me. Thanks for inspiring me. I hope you see life through the same glasses I do. If I can give you but one thing, I hope it’s that childlike optimism.
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Learning to Live
Henriette O'Callaghan was in possession of a highly proper name, but she slowly found herself rejecting it. In her youth, she wanted to be called Ri. That was it. She wrote songs of love and heartbreak that she had never experienced, even as her peers began to get a taste of what they couldn't put a lyric or a chord to. She was a hopeless romantic lacking actual romance. She would pour her heart out in her songbook for those who she could never tell. She cried to the voices of those more famous she wished to be with. And she held fast to the hope that love might come her way. That, finally, a boy would notice her as a woman, not just a friend.
Never did she imagine that college would be her... cynical awakening. She got what she wanted. She fulfilled her own songs, like flowery prophecies that would begin to tarnish her core belief in romance.
The first one to tarnish her view of romance was called Tyler.
Ri met Tyler at a party. One of her first college parties. She had a couple wine coolers because she detested the taste of beer. Not than anyone could blame her, she hadn’t been treated to a very good beer. She handed it off to someone else, and her companions (annoyed) found something else for her to drink. She sipped it with apprehension, but was pleased to find that the taste of alcohol wasn’t smacking her in the face as she did. She did a little more than sip it. After one, she felt a little cloudy-headed. She wanted to stop. But those with her kept encouraging her to drink another. So she did. Ri had to be the most notorious lightweight, but she was drunk after the second one. Tyler had a couple beers that night too. He had one thing on his mind. He sidled up to Ri as she was leaning against a wall, enjoying the music. She glanced at Tyler out the side of her eyes, giving him what she hoped was a seductive glance, but most likely just looked confused. None of that mattered to Tyler. He started dancing with her. If only it was the thing to be polite when dancing with a lady, but it wasn’t. Nowadays, dancing like that was predatorial. Not that Ri particularly noticed. She had a small gut feeling, but it was clouded by the liquor. She let him. Tyler kept glancing at her lips, trying to move closer to her, resting his hands on her hips. Ri’s head swayed side to side, back and forth, just a little. And she bit her lip. She decided to tease a little. Ri rested her wrists on Tyler’s shoulders, swayed her hips, and flicked her eyes down at his lips. At least, she was pretty sure she did. Next thing she knew, Tyler had guided her over to a worn-in couch and leaned in so close she could smell the beer on him. But she kind of wanted it. Everyone else she knew had done it already. She was okay with going this far to try it out. Tyler leaned in, and touched her lips. At first, it was alright. But then it wasn’t. Ri didn’t want any more than she had already gotten. They kissed. That was it. But Tyler wasn't done. He didn’t pull back. He opened his mouth, and tried using his to force hers open, like a slimy jaws-of-life. He gripped her harder, squeezing her forearm with his vice grip, digging his chewed nails into the small of her back as he tried to force her closer and closer. He slid his tongue in her mouth when she opened hers to protest. Ri wasn’t having it. She finally sobered up enough to push him off. Putting both hands on his chest, she thrust them forward and knocked him off balance. At that moment she stood up and walked away. Ri went to go find one of her sorority sisters. She didn’t want to be alone and end up with Tyler again. Ri wiped her mouth with her shirt and went in search of water. That was disgusting.
The second boy to strip her of her rose-lenses was called Mason.
Mason was almost everything— physically— that Ri was looking for. He met her height requirements (at least 5'9", to come slightly above her 5'7"), had luxurious hair that swept over his eyes sometimes when he looked down,  a smolder that could light a flame in anyone's heart, and just enough definition in his arms that Ri could imagine being comfortably swept off her feet. As for personality, Ri had never dated before... so she didn't quite know what she was looking for. But Mason had a laissez-faire attitude about life. He wasn't exactly the life of the party, he didn't exactly wake up every morning with a goal in mind... he didn't commit. Like a stoner or a leaf in the wind, he let life take him without truly realizing the damage he left in his wake.
Ri knew this... sort of. She was too enamored by his good looks, suave yet ballsy physical advances, and climax-inducing kisses. Of course, she never let it get that far.
"I'm not looking for commitment," he would say, and then continue to feel around as much as Ri would dare let him.
But he felt like a boyfriend. At least, Ri thought so. He had gone as her date to formal, they cuddled on his couch, slept together once (but no funny stuff. That just wasn't Ri's style), hung out at least weekly, and even been out together... with other people... while one of them was more than a little tipsy.
So it should not have come as a shock when the summer approached and Mason's attention waned. A lot.
But Ri was a romantic. It didn't make sense right away. They had something, right? After checking her phone everyday for even a “hey,” she began to lose confidence in what she thought was there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t there.
After doing a little social media stalking, Ri found photo after photo of Mason with another girl. Albeit, she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Ri… but she was still another girl. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what was going on, Ri got it. She soon stopped responding to Mason’s mass-snaps and occupied her time by talking to her trusted sorority sisters and drowning herself in relatable poetry. But she would still dwell over Mason. Damn that boy, she would think, why’d he have to affect me like this? When Ri wasn’t avoiding staying at home, she would be out with friends. Coffee once a week, twice a week she would go out, sometimes she’d get a shift at her summer job. All the while, Mason occupied her mind.
Yael: u there, ri?
Henriette: sup, el?
Yael: u gon bring the banner for ep nu rush?
Henriette: totes, el. I got it
Yael: kk, but u been off
Henriette: ?
Yael: come on, grl. I see what u post on twitter
Henriette: yeah… lotta poems.
Yael: is this about mason?
Henriette: i can’t forget him!
Yael: u gotta date other guys, girl.
Henriette: news flash- i don’t know any
Yael: what about will?
Henriette: your ex?
Yael: he’s a great guy and i think u guys would hit if off
Henriette: that’s sweet, el. But no thanks.
Yael: i gotchu, fam. Imma text him ur number.
Henriette: el!! Rlly???
And so Will started texting Ri. It was awkward at first, but then Ri finally had a guy to talk to about her troubles with Mason. And Will finally had someone to talk to about his long-time crush he’d had and not been able to get through to. Ri and Will found friendship in each other, friendship they both desperately needed. But Will told Ri the things that she had been hearing from pretty much everyone: give it time and you’ll forget about him. Except that Will learned Ri had never been on a proper date, so for the sake of her knowing how she should be treated… Will decided he’d take her on one. During this time, Ri was getting DMs from another guy who she went to the same university as, but had never met. His name was Garrett.
Garrett was dangerous. Ri could tell. But not because he was necessarily a bad guy. Garrett was like Ri, a hopeless romantic. Except, Ri didn’t want it to be that way anymore. Garrett reached out to Ri. He texted her about music, then about hockey, and then about how they’re both in greek life organizations. Garrett wanted to marry a sorority girl. He wanted to marry a girl who loved her sorority as much as he loved his fraternity. And after a few mentions of this, Ri quickly tried putting Garrett at arms’ length. She was not about to have this. She still wasn’t really over Mason.
But one night she had an epiphany. She was scrolling through her twitter feed while pondering what kind of quote she could post next, and she noticed that there was no sign of Mason anywhere on her feed. He hadn’t been posting. It was almost as if he really didn’t matter in her life.
And he didn’t.
Mason had been clear that he was never interested in seriously dating Ri. He never took her out on a date. He had never been solid about anything. Except that he was definitely emotionally unavailable.
So why was Ri spending so many of her precious neurons on this guy?
She wouldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t matter. His song in her life was over. She needed to focus on herself. She had so many more important things to do. She wanted to get back into reading. She wanted to be able to help with recruitment for Ep Nu. She wanted to make money. She wanted to write music again.
Ri went back to her songbook. The one that she had jotted down notes for lyrics, chords, and full songs. In there, she had so many songs about heartbreak and wasting her energy on a guy who was never going to love her. She wrote this two years before she had ever felt anything of the sort.
Why’d you leave me? Why’d you leave me this way?
I can’t feel anything I used to
It’s like I’m numb to everything that matters
I don’t know how it got to be this way
But somehow, here we are..
or here I am…
You used me up more than I thought was possible
You took my heart without my letting you
And yet you said you don’t want anything from me…
Not my love.
Not my love.
You wouldn’t give me your love.
Your love.
Your love…
Was it there?
Did it even exist?
Was it air?
Did I make the whole thing up?
Tell me!
You used me up more than I thought was possible
You took my heart without my letting you
And yet you said you don’t want anything from me…
Not my love.
Not my love.
You wouldn’t give your love.
Your love.
Your love…
Was it there?
Did it even exist?
Was it air?
Did I make the whole thing up?
Tell me!
Here I am.
Broken down.
All day and all night thoughts of you swimming round
In my head.
On my phone your contact stays there so I know
If you call
If you do
Then I won’t answer.
Because you won’t answer me…
Was it there?
Did it even exist?
Was it air?
Did I make the whole thing up?
Tell me!
But you won’t.
You’re not there…
But I don’t think you ever were...
Holy crap. Ri looked over the lyrics that her fifteen-year-old self had written. And it was spot on. It was almost as if her song predicted the future. She combed through the rest of her songs. They all said the same things. She was deceived by a guy. She let herself get caught up in a guy. She let herself be deceived by a guy. They were all about Mason before Ri had ever known Mason. She opened the page with her first full song. A tear slipped down her cheek. She knew it was coming, she knew she would suffer, and she let herself suffer. But no longer.
Ri closed her songbook and went to her desk chair. She pulled out her favorite poetry book and looked for the poems on strength. She would have strength. Ri would focus on herself. No more Mason, and no worrying over Garrett. Garrett wanted to date her, that was for sure, but Ri wasn’t about to be swept up in another guy before she had a stronger sense of self. She would focus on being the best the she could for her, and nobody else.
Henriette O’Callaghan was her own person, and no tragic song she wrote when she was fifteen would dictate her life again.
For those who made it to the bottom, thanks for reading my first entry! This story was inspired by a friend who gave me permission to turn her story into short literature.
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