#valentina-poem
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"TERF Wars" notes and recs
Before you read the sestina, if you indeed do, I urge you to check out these creative efforts from fellow LGBTQ+ zillennials:
"I'm Done with JK Rowling" Jessie Gender (The biggest direct inspiration for this piece. It's 3.5 hours long, so if you love long Youtube videos like I do, you're welcome.)
Trans Witches Are Witches (Get this bundle of LGBTQ+ games, zines, music, and other creative goodies! It's 80% off until 02/24/23.)
"A Brief Look at Harry Potter" Lily Simpson (Yes, my favorite Harry Potter/JKR retrospectives from trans creators get even longer. This one is 10 hours, I've watched it twice, if you start now you can be done by the weekend.)
Harry Potter Rebind Laur Flom (Separating the art from the artist by rebinding the Harry Potter books without JKR.)
And then some navel-gazing from me under the cut.
As a member of the Harry Potter generation, I've been thinking about my relationship with JK Rowling and her work. I never actually finished the Harry Potter books, and while I remember participating in fannish activities (midnight screenings and book release parties, fanfic-reading and -writing, a letter to JK Rowling that I don't think I ever actually mailed), Harry Potter as a world never became one of the ones that really grabbed me and shaped me. In hindsight, I'm still not sure why. It didn't offer me what I think I wanted then, which was a deep understanding and empathy for my internal state.
Speaking of understanding and empathy.
Many trans creatives, from video essayists to writers to visual artists, have spoken movingly and with moral urgency about JKR's transphobia and the threat it poses. But they shouldn't have to do all the work. Transphobia is an attack on all women--and all people--because bigotry is intersectional. I wanted to write something that would come from my own experience as a queer cisgender woman and repudiate the idea that transphobic rhetoric serves me in any way. To whit: There is no conflict between the rights of women and the rights of trans people (they're overlapping categories). There is no trans debate--a human person, with dignity and feelings and inalienable rights, is not to be "debated."
I hope that this poem serves as one more pebble of resistance against the forces that seek to undermine our rights. Trans liberation now. <3
P.S. I owe big thanks to my bestie Anthea Carns, author of the musical "The Devil and Sarah Blackwater" as well as other stuff that is good! Without her this sestina would have been (even more) tortured and (even less) focused.
Also, a big thank-you to my family. We watched all 7 Harry Potter films over the winter holidays, and seeing my parents raise many of the critiques I've seen over the years, in real time, was fascinating. When Hedwig died, my mother turned to us and said, "This is cruel. You don't do that to children." And that really stuck with me.
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Valentina - nice to women only
The only timeth i feeleth gay
is when women bid me "hey"
i loveth being a white lotus manager
only a dram m're than subjecting men to mine own anger
- Spit It Like Shakespeare (Adria Draca)
#adria draca#spit it like shakespeare#shakespeare#satire#parody#short poem#poetry#writing#valentina white lotus#white lotus s2#the white lotus#white lotus season 2#white lotus spoilers#white lotus sicily#white lotus#sabrina impacciatore#hbo#hotd#house of the dragon
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in tears i wanted to carve me n dens name into this tree where other people have and i got yelled at 💔💔💔
#whoever valentina is ur so lucky some dude carved a whole poem on three different trees#all for u 💔💔#📓.donalations
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Poetry - Senryū - Cloaked in Love's Velvet - A Poem by Goff James - Art - In the Depths of a Velvet Heart - A Painting by Valentina Fedoseeva - Poetry - Never Seek to Tell thy Love - A Poem by William Blake
Poem 1
Cloaked in Love’s Velvet by Goff James
Thoughts about the Poem
Cloaked in Love’s Velvet is a senryū poem that delves into the enigmatic nature of love, beautifully weaving together themes of mystery and tenderness.
The use of the word “cloaked” immediately hints at something hidden or obscured, creating an air of intrigue that sets the tone for the entire poem.
Furthermore, the…
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#Art#Art Music Photography Poetry Quotations#Artist#Cloaked in Love&039;s Velvet#Goff James#Goff James Art Music Photography Poetry Quotations#goffjamesart#Haiku#In the Depths of a Velvet Heart#Never Seek to Tell thy Love#Painting#Poems#Poetry#Poets#Senryû#Valentina Fedoseeva#William Blake
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Marina Tsvetaeva, excerpt from Poem of the Mountain, Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Valentina Coe) [ID'd]
#lit#quotes#poetry#typography#id included#marina tsvetaeva#poem of the mountain#selected poems of marina tsvetaeva#russian lit#a country of two#reading#m#x
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໒꒰ྀི ෆ ◞ ◟ ꒱ྀི১ ♡ྀི sweetest girl : event ! 💌 🦢
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
a valentine’s day event that i wish will be a form of cathartic self - expression as well as an expression of love, platonic or romantic, towards other people and affection / fondness for the dearest things in life ✿
lightly inspired by fairytopea’s lovely event : perfect date with fairytopea ! please give her event and blog a look if you haven’t already ♡ ♡ ♡
⑅ ꒰ᐢ ⸝⸝⸝ ᐢ꒱⌒꒱o sweetest girl - requirements !
♡ has to be (light) pink or (dark) red to represent valentine’s day 🎀
♡ anything heart - shaped or delicate, such as lace, angel wings/hair, doilies, or finest porcelain dolls (✿˘͈ᵕ˘͈)
♡ a media that changed your view of love or ‘shaped’ you — a book, film, studio album, poem, painting, musical composition, etc 𝄞
♡ one photo of your musical inspiration, including but not limited to k - pop idols ! if you have more than one you can make a gif or collage 💌
♡ unrealistic or not, anything hinting towards your childhood dream career(s) ! (for example, if your dream was to be a doctor, you could include an image of a doctor’s office or apparatus found inside — ex. needles, firstaid kit, etc 🩹)
♡ girl idol who you think fits the ‘sweetest girl’ or ‘good girl’ image (please let me know if i worded this wrong .)
⑅ ꒰ᐢ ⸝⸝⸝ ᐢ꒱⌒꒱o sweetest girl - how to join.
♡ leave a sweet comment ( or simply, ‘joining !’ ). reblog this post & tag 3 - 5 mutuals to spread !
♡ the end date is february 14 so make sure to complete and post your submissions either before or by then ! submissions will still be qualified if posted on the 14th & the event will close at midnight on february 15 ☆
⑅ ꒰ᐢ ⸝⸝⸝ ᐢ꒱⌒꒱o sweetest girl - extra credit ?
♡ self - made gifs, icons, and locs are my weakness sorry .. but winners will be chosen by random ! to me everyone is a winner by default for participating 💕💗
⑅ ꒰ᐢ ⸝⸝⸝ ᐢ꒱⌒꒱o sweetest girl - prizes ! 🍮
♡ first place : 100 reblogs, custom moodboard & divider, 5 locs, custom theme, s/o, follow back
♡ second place : 80 reblogs, custom moodboard, 4 locs, custom theme, s/o, follow back
♡ third place : 60 reblogs, custom divider, 3 locs, custom theme, s/o, follow back
♡ runner - ups : 40 reblogs, custom prize of choice, s/o, follow back : )
⑅ ꒰ᐢ ⸝⸝⸝ ᐢ꒱⌒꒱o my favorite blogs - 🎀
♡ @baesol @b-ubbleberry @chaeneuu @chouzi @dollienini @dearloona @dovedi @egorls @eundior @fairytopea @fleuwrei @florietas @gun-wook @haeivn @h-aeun @i06chae @iluvrei @jaes1lvr @jolibea @jenfaery @jeonqham @jeonzio @koosuvi @lorlita @mazeui @neuia @nwtzy @ningrlz @p-oisn @raeceah @shiolu @tookio @umiena @yerivs @y2qi + more 💌
♡ (in no specific order, so sorry for the tags :( /nf 🏷️)
sealed with utmost love,
valentina.
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🥧
Look #1
High neck t-shirt from Miiko-cc
Flora Jeans from Miiko-cc
Christy flats from theSLYD
Look #2
Sol Coverup from Serenity
Sunrise Hat from Simandy
Flip Flops from Dallasgirl
Look #3
Summer Poem top from CloudCat
Plaid Tights (Dark Academia set) from Miiko-cc
Flip Flops from Dallasgirl
Look #4
Animal hat from aharris00britney
Sweater (simblreen treat) from me
Work Hard skinny jeans from Trillyke
Sneakers from Trillyke
Look #5
Bikini set + belly chain ACC from Trillyke
Look #6
Earmuffs N02 (bear) from sclub (TSR)
Yeppi Sweater from Trillyke
Skinny jeans from Tajsiwel
Valentina Boots from Caio-cc
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
Thank You!
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
@trillyke @theslyd @cloudcat @aharris00britney @dallasgirl79 @miikocc @serenity-cc @caio-cc @sclub-privee @tajsiwel @sssvitlanz @emilyccfinds
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
My Simblreen Treats ⤜♡→
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AND OF COURSE MY FLESH YEARNS FOR YOURS
A webweave for the amazing it's just a fish. by @ty-bayonet-betteridge ! one of the best fics i've ever read. happy completion! (heed the tags pls and thank you)
Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost / THE LOVERS by Studio Heartbreak / Matthew 25:35 (New International Version) / Sweet No Death by arcadekitten / on the romance of cannibalism by silas denver melvin (@.sweatermuppet) / edit by @.valentina-poem / A Complete Kingdom by komodobits [heed the tags.] / The Invention of Love by Tom Stoppard / THE LOVERS [again] / Under my Skin [again] / It Will Come Back by Hozier / White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi / THE LOVERS [again] / Work Song by Hozier / I Want You by Mitski
#blood cw#cannibalism cw#web weave#gempearl#hermitshipping#sloth's originals#scopophobia cw#ouagh. anyways
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Did you know that i have your heart in the garden?
Chapter one: amore mio aiutami /ao3
song: amore mio aiutami–piero piccioni
Warnings: Use of a degrading word
Words: 5.5k
Nina De Rosa
-Daughter of Don Tommasino De Rosa and Valentina Parisi. Little sister of Simone, Florentino, and Calogero.
-Born December 27, 1925 in Corleone, Sicily.
You are an artist moderately recognized in Sicily. Since you were a child your poems and paintings have been praised by your family. Your mother, a writer with an anonymous signature, has instilled art in you. Being the only daughter of the Don, you have been spoiled and supported in all your passions.
You meet Michael (Michele) Corleone in the winter of 1946. He is welcomed and protected by your father after murdering two men in The United States.
Read masterlist for summary and playlist <3
The little snowflakes danced in the air in front of his eyes. His tensed body, his hand still feeling heavy, and the pain in his face kept him fatigued. The travel had made his mind a nest of noise. The sound of the wind, the sea, the voices, and the constant click clack. For a moment he thought he lost himself there. That’s how he felt after everything. So rushed, in the darkness of his boarding, only a man with a scar on his right cheek kept him company. His name was Emmanuele, a Don Tommasino’s capo, the man in charge of taking him to Sicily. They didn’t talk much, only what was necessary until they reached the small private airport run by “The Families”.
Similar to New York. Sicily was controlled by four main families; Quintana from Corleone; Indelicato from Palermo; Pentangeli from Partinico; and De Rosa from Bagheria–Corleone. Three of them were close to the Corleone family, mainly due to the alliances made by Vito. However, with Don Tommasino De Rosa the friendship was much deeper. Vito, a man of great values, always maintained his devotion to his friend, who helped him in his revenge and gave him and his family shelter in his homeland.
Michael must have been five years old when he met you for the first time. He wouldn’t remember you. You were just a baby in your mother’s arms, recently baptized. With your pompous dress and your blessed head, they named you goddaughter of Vito. At the celebration the children played, the adults drank and chatted pleasantly, and Michael remained silent near his father. You were close, you babbled charming your aunts, and you squeezed your godfather’s finger in your fist causing him to smile.
It was the only time you crossed paths, like two complete strangers who never thought about each other again. Until that winter, when Michael’s life began to change in a way he thought he could escape. Ambitions were left behind, because Sicily received him with the cold filling his entire body. The only thing he could think about was home, about returning, even though he knew it would be impossible. Now in solitude he refrained from letting himself be carried away by fatal thoughts. He concentrated on being rational, on getting to Don Tommasino’s house and finally resting a little bit.
Emmanuele took him in a car along uphill roads, entering a city of ancient architecture that immediately caught his attention. So different from his home, it caused a knot in his chest that he ignored in the face of the wonderful views. Snow covered the cobbled roofs of the houses, it made a small path on the side of the street covering the grass. Going uphill, Emmanuele told him that they would enter through the forest where Don Tommasino’s house was located in a wide rural villa. Michael stuck his head out the window admiring the cold green vegetation. He could see the small booths with armed men. They continued until they reached a guarded gate, upon recognizing Emmanuele the men opened it, revealing a big house. Michael didn’t show how amazed he was by the place. With a large garden that disappeared into a stone path at the back, the house was in the center of a captivating nature.
They got out of the car, where some soldiers approached to take out the little luggage that Michael was able to bring with him. Sally had little time to gather a couple of shirts, a pair of pants, and a belt. Still, he was grateful to have his coat in the face of the weather he encountered. He could feel the humidity of the plants sticking to his skin along with the snow that fell lightly on his hair. Fortunately he didn’t have to wait too long for the front door to open, inviting a homely warmth that he followed behind Emmanuele.
Inside a captivating melody sounds like a warm welcome that calmed his body a little. The entrance had a large room with a fountain in the center and a large staircase that leads to the second floor. Behind it a window looked out onto the back garden where he could see a table and a couple of people. From the hallway to the left, where the music was coming from, a man with a cane appears who smiles openly at him, extending his arm to wrap him in a side hug. Michael could feel the light squeeze of his hand against his back, feeling his weight fall gently on him. With two pats he separated to grab his shoulder.
“Michele! You have grown so much, boy. Let me look at that face… I’ll call Taza, you need to treat that” He gestured, moving his open palm pointing at his face. Emmanuele at his side just looked at them “I’m very sorry about your father. I wish him my best blessings. He will recover soon” Michael smiled at his words.
“Don Tommasino, I thank you very much for receiving me… Molto grato (I’m very thankful)”.
Don Tommasino hugged him by the shoulders, leaning lightly on him, and made him walk to the back to exit through a door that led to a terrace. There the wide views showed part of the city from above, although everything was covered by vegetation.
“I appreciate your words Michele. Because of the great friendship that I share with your father I give you shelter… Una casa (A house) You will be protected, Michele. I have sworn to your family that” Michael sat in one of the chairs, under the roof unlike the soldiers that guarded the place. Don Tommasino sat next to him “I like winter, you will like this place in the cold”.
Michael only thought about the summer and how at that moment he would be home again. He already missed everything. He felt the tingle of a sadness that penetrated his soul. At the same time, fatigue did not allow him to feel anything other than an emptiness. As if he was incapable of feeling.
“Mi piace l’estate (I like summer)” He said.
“Amerai l’estate. Anche se immagino che speri di tornare per allora (You will love summer, although I suppose you hope to return by then)” Michael nodded, sighing lightly.
“My italian… Il mio italiano non è cosí buono (My italian isn’t so good)” Don Tommasino laughed a little and patted him on the knee.
“Don’t worry about it, they will understand you. But you could practice it” Michael nodded again.
“Michele I recommend you use another name here” Said Don Tommasino
“I could use Andolini, my father’s enemies don’t know his last name”.
“Maybe it’s risky, but it works. We have a lot of Andolinis here” Don Tommasino assured
Suddenly, he noticed three men approaching from the side of the house. Don Tommasino quickly stood up to receive them. Two of them were armed with luparas and were wearing light jackets. Something unsuitable for the cold, thought Michael.
“Benvenuto Michele (Welcome Michael) I’m Armando Fusco, consigliere of Don Tommasino, a pleasure” The man shook his hand in greeting and continued to introduce the two men who accompanied him “These are Fabrizio and Calo, your bodyguards assigned from Emmanuel. They are loyal to the family, so feel comfortable” Emmanuel at his side nodded before his men.
Fabrizio smiled broadly at him and squeezed his hand in a cheerful greeting.
“America, America… Quanto è bello lì, eh? (How nice it’s there, eh?)” Calo, next to him, laughed at his friend and sat in front of Michael. Getting a little snow on his head, he didn’t seem to care.
“Vuole essere portato in America, è il suo sogno (He wants to be taken to America, it’s his dream)” Calo said towards Michael.
“These men have the job of protecting you. Don’t hesitate to ask them anything” Don Tommasino said, leaning on his cane, Michael could notice how one of his legs was tilting loosely “Now let’s eat something. Armando, please tell Calogero that I want to see him” With that, Michael got up to follow him into the house.
Following his pace, since Don Tommasino walked slowly, Michael held his hands behind his back and admired the place again. Noticing his observant gaze, Don Tommasino spoke.
“They shot me in the legs, kid” He pointed his cane at his shin “I saw you look at me, it causes curiosity… Always observant, Michele. You were like that too when you came here years ago, remember?” Michael nodded, matching his steps. They were walking towards the hallway where the music was still playing “You were very little, always near your father”.
His thoughts inevitably turned to his father, still having the image of his body in the hospital bed. He felt that if he concentrated enough he could feel the skin of his father’s forehead under his palm, in the caress he granted him when he promised to take care of him. He can still see the small tear that ran down his cheek when he had to leave him. The wave of sudden worry filled him for a second, barely letting him breathe. Without contact, he only had his own hopes as consolation.
“Amore mio, amore mio. Il… boy, Michele, è già arrivato? (My love, my love. Has the boy… arrived yet?)” A feminine voice called from the kitchen, where the aroma distracted Michael enough to notice his hunger.
Inside, the warm lighting opened the way to a large kitchen with a dining room included. At least ten people were able to sit comfortably at the table. All made of varnished wood. The kitchen had a lot of furniture and a counter that gave views outside. The woman, Don Tommasino’s wife, Michael assumed, approached, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Michele, my wife Valentina” Don Tommasino presented, making a gesture so that they would greet each other. Michael accepted the small hug and the kiss on the cheek. Suddenly she looked at him with concern.
“I’m sorry, Michele. Being raised in America, you won’t be used to it” She said in a slow english that Michael patiently understood.
“My father has raised me close to our culture. Siamo italiani, non pensare di offendermi (We are italians, don’t think it offends me)” Michael said quickly, the woman nodded.
“I have lunch ready. Meat well cooked the way my husband likes it. Take a seat, Michele… Our sons will be arriving soon, Tomy” Valentina moved to the kitchen to start preparing.
Don Tommasino sat at the head of the table and motioned for Michael to sit nearby, to his left. Michael sat comfortably, crossing one of his legs and leaning back.
“Where is Nina? She won’t have lunch with us?” Don Tommasino asked, thinking you would be in the house by now.
“She’s in town with Carolina, they’re buying shoes” Valentina responded with a shrug as she tossed the salad on the counter “She will probably eat with her” She said in english, as a courtesy so that Michael would understand.
“When she arrives let me know. I want to talk to her”.
Michael didn’t pay much attention to the conversation. He got lost in the food’s aroma and in his numb body. The only thing that brought him out of his little state was the voice of people approaching. In front of him three men, one in a police uniform and two in civilian clothes, entered, greeting the couple effusively.
“Mama! Che profumo delizioso (Mom! What a delicious aroma)” “Delizioso, ho fome, Mama! (Delicious, I’m hungry, Mom!)” “Papa, come va il freddo con quella gamba? (Dad, how’s the cold with that leg?)”
The men greeted their mother with a kiss, hugging her affectionately. One of them, the older, came up to greet his father and then looked at Michael shaking his hand.
“Simone De Rosa… You the guy from La America?” Michael nodded “Good, good, I know some english so don’t worry”.
“Parlo anche un po’ italiano (I speak a little italian)” Michael responded, aware of the other men approaching to greet him. Behind them Valentina brought the dishes.
“I’m Florencio. How was the arrival, eh?” Said the shorter one of them. The uniformed man also presented himself “Calogero” He said, shaking Michael’s hand after his brother.
“These are my boys, Michele. My daughter isn’t here, unfortunately, you will meet her later”.
“That girl Nina, tsk, tsk, tsk” Simone clicked his tongue “She’s been so busy these days. I’ve barely seen her” He complained while receiving his plate. Michael also received his, noticing how the brothers quickly began to eat.
“You have to understand her. With everything she has to do, we will see her very little” Said Valentina while sitting to the right of his husband.
“Your sister is doing something that none of you would do” Don Tommasino said as he poured the wine. Michael asked for just a little.
“We can’t do it, we are men” Said Calogero causing a disapproving look from his mother.
“We will not talk about your sister at the table. What she does she will discuss it with your father. Enjoy your food, you were hungry” She said, indicating with her fork.
“Well… Michele, tell us about America” Florencio seemed interested in Simone’s request.
“Better ask him something specific, boy” Said Don Tommasino while drinking his wine. Michael observed them with attention while eating.
“Come sono le donne? (How are the women?)” Asked Calogero causing laughter among his brothers “Scommetto che sono piccoli, magri, come nei film (I bet they are small, skinny, like in the pictures)” “Belli, sono belli! (Beautiful, they are beautiful!)” The brothers seemed to talk to each other without addressing Michael.
“Non potrei dirtelo (I couldn’t tell you)” That caught their attention, Michael continued eating.
“Non può? Cosa non può? è un finocchio? (Can’t? What can’t? Is he a faggot?)” Calogero said jokingly to Simone. However, his brother looked at him seriously and then looked at his father.
Michael didn’t feel offended about it. Understanding the man’s mentality he simply wiped himself with a napkin in silence. Don Tommasino, on the other hand, felt deep shame at his son’s behavior. Valentina blushed with the same shame and looked at her husband expectantly.
“Excuse my son, Michele. He is usually rude, something that embarrasses me. Please ignore his words… Calogero, we’ll talk later” With a passive tone of voice but with a hard gaze he continued to reprimand his son.
“Don’t worry. I have a brother just the same… I don’t have any comments about women, because it’s not an interesting conversation for me. They will be beautiful, for sure, as there will be many in other places” His monotone tone and expressionless look didn’t give Calogero room to make another comment.
Florencio, accustomed to his brother’s slips, drank wine and after swallowing he spoke.
“Old Frankie, how is he? Still under Clemenza I must assume” Michael tilted his head in interest.
“Yeah. Frankie, Frankie. We are good friends of Vincenzo. It has been a long time since we heard from him in La America” Simone said, taking the salad to serve himself in big portions.
“Yes, he continues under Clemenza, dedicated to the family” Don Tommasino clinked his glass with Michael’s and then raised it.
“For the family and the dedication… I want to make something clear to you three. Michele is my protégé, he is under our care until he can return safely to America. I know you know but I’ll repeat myself. I want total discretion, only those close to us can be aware of his presence. No one else will be told his name or anything about what is happening in New York” The brothers nodded at their father’s words.
“What about Quintana?” Asked Florencio.
“What about them?” Asked Don Tommasino.
“Our bond isn’t strong yet. The war is over but the tension continues. If they find out about Michele they can use it against us” Simone replied.
“They aren’t friends of the Corleones. They never wanted to establish any ties” Calogero added.
“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be a problem. Leandro as underboss will have the privilege of stopping anything. He knows what’s best for him” Don Tommasino said as he finished his plate “Now let’s give Michele some space. Love, can you ask Emilda to take him to his room? I need to go to my office, Calogero come with me”.
Don Tommasino slowly left the dining room accompanied by his son. His two eldest sons got up and said they would go outside. Valentina called Emilda and picked up the plates while Michael wiped his nose with a napkin.
Emilda appeared and kindly took him to the second floor where his room was, at the end of the hallway with a perfect view of the stream and the garden. His luggage was already on his bed, and after thanking Emilda he closed the door.
Finally alone. The first thing he did was take off his coat, leaving him in his dress shirt and trousers. Having the need to bathe, he went to the bathroom connected to the room. There was a long bathtub, long enough for him to lie down without any problems. He slowly took off his clothes, leaving himself completely naked. Waiting for the tub to fill with water, he went to look in the mirror where he noticed his paleness and deep circles under his eyes. But what caught the attention was his injury.
His skin was covered in a purple hue. The swelling on his jaw had gone down a little but it was still painful. In the night he felt it more, the pressure on his head when lying down made the pain intense. It provoked a rage that dissipated quickly when he remembered that McClusky was dead. A feeling of resentment that was only calmed by his committed revenge. He almost thinks about his father but stops as he presses his fingers against his broken jaw. He didn’t like how he looked even though he had seen several men who arrived in Sicily had injuries
The pain was a sensation already learned, almost purifying. The war hadn’t made him a stronger or wiser man. Sharing with men who died at his side didn’t make him more sensitive. It was fear that still disturbs his mind when he remembers the pain. And it isn’t a physical pain, it’s a pain of the soul, as if his heart were going to shrink until it disappeared. It was fear that made him learn. And now, with the latent pain on his face, he could only ask God that nothing would happen to his family. He would pray for it until he returns, he knows it when he sees that his injury would take too long to abandon him.
Noticing that the tub is already full, he slowly gets into it, covering his body in the warm water. He immediately feels his muscles relax against the surface, almost feeling like he’s sinking. Letting himself go, he takes a deep breath to submerge his head under water. Stretching his legs and using force with his hands to keep him from floating, he stays down holding his breath. It’s almost cathartic.
He holds on until he can’t take it anymore, getting out of the water quickly, overflowing the tub and wetting the floor. He runs his hands over his face without noticing that he is crying. He sinks again, and repeats that over and over again until his body becomes limp. Then he just looks at the ceiling without thinking about anything, letting everything happen until he almost falls asleep in the cold water. If it wasn’t for the soft touch of the door he would have fallen asleep lying there.
“Signor, Don Tommasino vorrebbe parlarle (Mr. Don Tommasino would like to speak to you)” Emilda’s voice wakes him up enough to sit in the tub.
“Andrò presto Emilda, grazie mille (I’ll go soon Emilda, thank you very much)” He heard her footsteps go away, he waited until he felt the silence to get up.
He couldn’t feel the passage of time, or even register his body temperature. The only thing he did was dry off and change into the few clothes he brought, and went downstairs to go to Don Tommasino’s office.
The office was very different compared to his father’s office. Where it was dark there, here was a large window that showed trees in the background. There was Emmanuele, Armando Fusco, Simone, Florencio, Calogero and other man Michael hadn't meet yet.
“I hope you had a good rest Michele. Come in, sit down” He closed the door behind him and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Behind Don Tommasino was the unknown man, staring at him with such intensity that Michael couldn’t help but look back at him “Andrea smettila di disturbare Michele (Andre stop bothering Michael)... Don’t mind him. He just arrived and he’s very paranoid. Perfect for the job, eh?” The men laughed and Michael could tell that there wasn’t tension in the room. That made him feel more comfortable.
“You liked your room, Michele?” Don Tommasino asked. Michael nodded.
“Anisette?” asked Armando while pouring the cloudy liquid in small glasses. Michael accepted the glass and drank it along with everyone else.
“Well Michael, I called you because I want to tell you what a couple of things will be like here. We usually go to different areas of Sicily, meetings and things like that to maintain ties. Most of the time you will stay in the house with Fabrizio and Calo, but you can also go out to Palermo, once a week, you just have to not be identifiable. When I’m not here my men will be. Also my wife and daughter are always here too. The family visits us sometimes so you can meet them, if you don’t mind” Michael interrupted.
“Of course not” That made him smile.
“You are a good boy, Michele. Now let’s go out, it wasn’t that serious if you thought it was” Michael denied with his head while getting up.
“Hey! Papa! Are you in your office?” A female voice could be heard from outside, your voice.
“My beloved Nina, let’s go out so I can talk to her” He said as he walked with his cane towards the door. Michael could hear how you greeted each other in the hallway, your voices slowly drifting away behind the door.
Inside the men finished their drinks and got up to leave. Andrea, right hand of Don Tommasino and one of the capos, shook his hand in a firm squeeze that was intended to intimidate him. Michael appreciated the gesture, assuming that Don Tommasino’s safety was the man’s priority, he thought that this loyalty would be useful in the future.
When he left the office he noticed that the brothers De Rosa were still talking while they walked to the garden. Behind him Andrea told him to follow them because Don Tommasino loved sitting on his terrace, even if it was cold. As he moved forward he could hear your melodious voice, and like a song, he felt almost trapped in the curiosity of knowing what you were saying.
“... No, no papa, guarda. Oggi sono arrivati gli inviti, dobbiamo mandarli domani. Mi sto organizzando benissimo, credimi. Fidati e basta, andrà tutto bene (... No, no dad, look. The invitations arrived today, we have to send them tomorrow. I’m organizing this very well, believe me. You just trust me, it will be fine)”.
“Ma la mia vita, non sarà presto? (But, my life, won’t it be soon?)”.
“Ay papa, sta andando tutto bene, non preoccuparti (Ah dad, everything is going well, don’t worry)”.
“Sì papa, la ragazza sa quello che fa (Yes dad, the girl knows what she’s doing)”.
As he approached he noticed your back. Your figure covered by a long dark coat. He could only appreciate your dark hair and the movement of your hands. In front of you Don Tommasino looked at you attentively, with his eyebrows furrowed despite your words. Your brothers around you also listened but only Simone gave his opinion. Before Michael could make any gesture to indicate his presence, Andrea spoke.
“Signorina De Rosa, buon pomeriggio (Miss De Rosa, good afternoon)” That made you turn around.
If somebody asked Michael how silence is caused, he would have to answer that the body can only be immobilized with an overwhelming emotion. He could feel it in the impact of your eyes. But what a beautiful view that Sicilian winter brought. With cheeks flushed from the cold and eyelashes with little snowflakes. He didn’t know if it was just because you were beautiful or he had definitely gotten lost in your gaze. The tired body already forgotten was left behind the beating heart that deafened him.
Michael found himself standing with his heart beating faster than normal. He felt dazed and the blood boiled in his body. He could intensely perceive everything. He felt like he was in another world. He was struck by lightning. Don Tommasino, looking straight at Michael, could notice it, but he remained silent. The well-known lightning attack.
For you, the first time was a blast of warmth. Because of the open door and his presence, the light that illuminated his bruised face reflected a unique shine in his eyes. And what eyes! A deep brown that caught you like a careless prey. You’ve never seen eyes like those. So full of a story that you wanted to discover, an innate need to know everything that captivates you.
The silence was broken when you noticed that he brought his hand to his nose. Due to the blow, his sinuses were damaged. You knew that because your brother suffered the same thing due to a fight. Taking a handkerchief out of your coat, you approached him and offered it to him. A pale pink fabric with delicate embroidery that carries your perfume. Michael looked at the handkerchief and slowly accepted it, pressing it to his nose, immediately feeling the sweet aroma.
“Ciao Andrea. Sei Michele? Da New York? (Hi Andrea. Are you Michael? From New York?)” You asked, taking a step back, slightly losing the feeling of his closeness.
“Yes Nina, he’s Michael. Michael, my daughter Nina” Don Tommasino said, in the background your brothers talked.
“Buon pomeriggio, Nina… Grazie per il fazzoletto, io… I will return it to you after washing it (Good afternoon, Nina… Thanks for the handkerchief, I…)” Michael spoke english not knowing how to continue in italian. You smiled and with a gesture you denied.
“Don’t worry. I have more” You replied, he didn’t push it.
Still in awe of his eyes, you couldn’t help but take in everything, as if he were going to unexpectedly leave your sight. Michael wasn’t far behind, even with your handkerchief pressing against his nose, more because of your perfume than his rhinorrhoea, he looked at your face trying to engrave it in his memory.
“Well, I hope you like poetry Michele… Nina keep him company, Armando has a couple of things to discuss with me” Said Don Tommasino as he saw how his consigliere waved his hand from inside the house.
For a man with a cane he moves around quite a bit, Michael thought. Now with a bit of confusion in his eyes, he took a seat waiting for you to do the same. You, instead, watched your father walk until he disappeared on the way to his office. With your brothers talking to a couple of your father’s workers, you noticed that Michael was waiting for you. With a little shyness you sat in front of him, and remembered your father’s words.
“What about poetry?” He asked you.
“Oh! I’m a poet and a classical literature teacher. He’s quite proud of it, that’s all” Michael noticed how you squeezed your hands and rubbed them.
“Poet, how interesting. How do you write it?” You didn’t know if he was really interested in talking about it, but like any other enthusiastic person, when you had the chance to talk about what you love the most, you couldn’t contain yourself.
“I couldn’t explain it. It's just. Mmm… It flows from me, you know? You don’t have something like that?” You asked.
“Something like that?” He took a moment before continuing “I don’t think so, what emanates from me doesn’t cause any art” That intrigued you.
“And what emanates from you?” If he could answer honestly he would. But he saw a very pure curiosity in your eyes.
“Some things” He said, looking away from you to admire the garden. The snow was no longer falling, however, the place was still covered in white.
“You are quite a mysterious man, don’t you think?” You said with a smile that almost caused him to imitate you, but he remained expressionless.
“I don’t think so. You are an artist, though…” You looked at him inquisitively “You are more likely to share your thoughts”.
“That 's true. I have always been a transparent woman”.
“Just like your brother” He said, looking at Calogero.
“Oh, you already met him, eh? Don’t mind him, he’s always had a sharp tongue, always getting in trouble” You pointed at Michael’s jaw “Someone broke his jaw one time, for insulting a Quintana”.
“What did he say to deserve that?” He asked, leaning against the chair, looking comfortable in his clothes.
“He said some things about Don Quintana’s daughter, may she rest in peace. It was very unpleasant. My mother slapped him when he arrived” Michael nodded. Your brother looked like the kind of man who made those mistakes.
“Is he a lieutenant?” You quickly denied at his question.
“He is a carabiniere. He likes to be one, he always wears his uniform” You both looked at him from a distance. Calogero was adjusting his sleeves while laughing at something Florencio said “Are you a lieutenant?” Michael looked at you again.
“I’m a marine” You raised your eyebrows at his response.
“You went to war? For America?” You asked, resting your chin in your knuckles. Michael lowered his head a little.
“Yes”.
“Your father supported that?” You noticed how his gaze intensified.
“No, he didn’t like the idea very much. But he couldn’t do anything against it, not at first” You wanted to ask him more, so you didn’t stop. Now feeling more comfortable you relaxed your posture.
“He did though” You assumed “You have medals?”.
“Yes, I have some” His calm voice contrasted with your animated one.
From the outside it seemed that only you were paying attention. But Michael, from his passivity, was completely focused on you.
“Did you leave them in America? I’ve never seen one. Why do you have them?” You almost thought he was getting bored of your questions, but he smiled as if he remembered something good.
“Extreme bravery beyond the call of duty” The tingle of remembered adrenaline kept his smile on his face.
“So that emanates from you… Are you an altruist?” Michael thought deeply about your question, before he could answer you talked again “I know what you did in New York”.
“Do you? And what does that answer to you?” He asked, wanting to know what you would say.
“I think you are… Many men kill in the name of their Don, even sons kill for their parents. But one thing is to kill and another thing is to accept what death entails. You are here, very far from home. And when I look at you I know that this isn’t what you would want. That’s why I think you are” Michael took your words in and nodded slowly, he didn’t think the same.
“And you’re perceptive, I guess” That made you smirk a little.
“I usually observe everything, it helps with writing”.
“What else helps you?”.
“I have a place, a special one. It's outside, passing that fence, see?” You pointed where the stream disappeared between the trees “There I write and read, I go when it’s not so cold”.
“Why that place?” It encouraged you that he asked you so many questions.
“It’s beautiful, it’s like it’s from another world. Sometimes, when the sun goes down, the leaves create some rays that reflect in the water. When I look at that I get inspired” You brought your hands to your chest, squeezing your palms. Oh you wished it were summer.
“I-...” Michael was suddenly interrupted by a voice calling your name. He could notice your eyes changed in the way your eyelids moved.
Recognizing that voice you stood up awaiting his presence. From the side your brother Simone appeared with a tall man in a fitted and expensive suit. Michael saw how he approached you, taking your hand to give it a soft kiss.
“Michele, this is Leandro Quintana, my fiance” The only thing Michael could notice was how you didn’t look him in the eyes again.
CHAPTER TWO
#al pacino#michael corleone fanfic#michael corleone au#michael corleone x oc#michael corleone x reader#michael corleone#the godfather au#the godfather
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2019
AN: so this isn’t technically dad!jack it’s how he became a dad lmao
requested? no
warnings: creepy gas station guy, mentions of smut, and talks about birth control
Word Count: 3.1k words
June 2019
Monse looked down at her phone and rolled her eyes. She hung up without answering and focused on all of the poems she had to use in the comparative paper she was going to write. She turned up the volume of her laptop in hopes that the classical music would drown out her phone’s constant ringing. It didn’t.
“No!” She said when she answered.
“C’mon, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” the voice whined on the other side. “I missed you.”
“I have finals to prepare for and several research papers to write. Also, you didn’t miss me, you missed that I kept your dick warm.” Monse said before hanging up.
Not even thirty seconds later her phone started ringing once more. She sighed dramatically and answered. “What do you want Jack?”
“Have you eaten?” he asked her.
Monse looked over to the half eaten Uncrustable on her desk that she got for breakfast. “No.”
“Come out with me for a bit, I’m buying.” he offered.
She stayed quiet, considering her options. She could make a Maruchan with Valentina and stress about her school work until it was three in the morning OR she could take a well deserved study break and get some free food and sex out of it.
“Fine,” she sighed, giving in.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
She hung up and tossed her phone on the bed. She quickly changed out of her bleach stained UCLA sweatpants that dye changed into when she showered in the morning to a pair of clean panties and high waisted denim booty shorts. She shrugged off the baggy hoodie and put on a cropped long sleeve top. She tossed everything in her closet and rushed to the shared bathroom across the hall. She cursed hearing the shower run. She knocked urgently.
“Serena, let me in. I need to brush my teeth.” Monse yelled through the door.
“No, you’re gonna make the water cold.” Serena, her roommate and best friend, responded.
“Serena, please, he’s already outside.” she begged.
“Who, Macklemore?” her best friend asked with an amused tone.
Serena calling Jack, by every other white male rapper to ever exist, was a running joke between them dating back to their high school days when he actually started to take his rap career seriously. Serena was from Louisville but moved to LA for school. Jack and Serena have been friends since he was switched to her preschool class after he bit a kid in his former class for hogging the handball during recess. She was the only kid that wasn't scared of him, she has three older brothers that taught her how to fight and could easily take Jack if necessary. They were inseparable until Jack started focusing more on his music career while Serena was more concentrated on getting into college.
She and Monse were assigned to be roommates their freshman year at UCLA. They've been inseparable since then. Which was how Monse met Jack. He was in LA working on music and decided to stop by to see Serena, who he hadn't seen since before she left for summer bridge.
Monse's first impression of Jack was that he was very confident and flirty but at the same time he was a bit dorky in a way that was cute. He didn't have the best style but the way he carried himself was enough for her to notice him. For almost three years, every time he'd go and visit Serena, he would always try to make a move on Monse, but she'd kindly rejected him.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to him; she had a thing for tall dorky funny guys. In the back of her head her parents' voices, specifically her mom's, constantly nagged her about how she needed to concentrate on school and not let boys distract her because they could affect her grades and her life in general. She was already on thin ice for not pursuing bioengineering like them and her sisters. That was until a few months ago when Serena was spending the weekend with her boyfriend and forgot to tell Jack that she wasn't in town, leaving Monse to entertain him. They found a bottle of Centenario tequila in the fridge. A few shots later, they both got more flirty and went for it.
That night was the beginning of their long distance friends with benefits. It became a routine whenever he was in LA he’d hit her up. The first few times they tried hiding it from Serena, but she found out soon after hearing Monse moan Jack's name. She said she found it weird because she saw the both of them as siblings, but at the end of the day it wasn’t her place to say anything because both were good people and she trusted them to know what they were getting themselves into. Though she did warn Jack not to fuck it up because Monse was her only friend that was a girl.
Monse knew her place in Jack’s life. She was aware of his reputation and how he wasn’t looking for anything serious. Neither was she. Which was why she didn't mind that he had other girls to hook up with just as long as they were on the same page. Considering that she was the most permanent girl on Jack's roster and she was on the pill, they agreed to have sex with without a condom, as long as they used protection with the other people they hooked up with. And if there was ever a slip up and they had unprotected sex with someone else, they were to let the other know and get tested. Fortunately for them, there hasn't been one.
After five seconds, Serena unlocked the door and let Monse in. She rushed in and hastily brushed her teeth as her best friend dried her hair with her diffuser. While she was at it, Monse put on deodorant and did a simple makeup look consisting of concealer to hide her dark under eyes, mascara to make her look awake and lipgloss because she liked lipgloss. She undid her braid and let her hair loose.
"Are you and Miles coming back here?" Monse asked.
"No, he's taking me to Santa Barbara for the weekend, so I won't be back until Sunday afternoon." Serena said, gently separating her curls.
"Okay," she nodded.
"Here," her best friend said, placing a handful of condoms on the sink. "I know your procrastinating ass hasn't picked your birth control refill."
"Jack always has some." Monse pushed them back to her.
"What if he doesn't have any?"
"Babe, he's paranoid and always carries condoms like you carry mints. We'll be fine." Monse's phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was Jack. "Okay I have to go. I'll see you Sunday and have fun with your man."
"Have fun with G-Eazy." Serena called out.
Monse rolled her eyes. She grabbed her bag and keys. She jogged down the flight of stairs that led to the outdoor parking spaces. Jack leaned against his rental car that was parked perpendicular to Serena's Honda Civic. He wore black basketball shorts with a grey zip up hoodie and a white tank top under.
"Hi." She said walking up to him.
She wrapped her arms around his stomach and stood on her tippy-toes. Jack met her halfway and cupped her face with his hands, bringing their lips together. He deepened their kiss, moaning into her mouth.
"Tattoo-less Post Malone don't do that shit to Monse in public." Serena yelled at them from her apartment window.
Jack pulled away from Monse and looked up at the window. He raised his left hand and flipped Serena off.
“I’m calling your mother.” she said.
“Does your mother know where you’re going this weekend? I’m sure Dr. Wilson would like to know what you're up to this weekend.”
Serena looked over to Monse. “Again, what do you see in him?”
“Go finish getting ready, you haven’t finished packing. I’ll deal with his dumbass.” Monse said. She turned to Jack and nodded her head towards her car. “We’re taking my car, so you can park there and I’ll take Serena’s spot when we get back.”
“Why? My car is right here.” Jack asked, pointing at his rental.
“I need to get gas.”
He nodded and went to his car to wait for her to pull out of her parking spot, so he could take it. Then he got in her Honda accord. He pushed the seat back so his legs could fit in the passenger seat. He pulled out his phone and connected it to get AUX.
“Wanna hear what I’ve been working on at the studio?” he asked her.
“I guess, since you already connected your phone.” Monse shrugged as she looked over her shoulder to switch lanes.
Jack gave her a pointed look then looked down at his phone. He scrolled down to his new song and pressed play. He shifted in his seat to watch Monse’s reaction. She kept a neutral face while the song played. Her lip twitched at the ‘Shego’ line; it was a nod to her when she sent Jack pictures of herself as a sluty Shego before she headed out to a Halloween frat party with Serena, who was dressed as Kim Possible. She scrunched up her face, trying not to smile which was her way of saying that the song was good.
“So?” he asked, switching to Spotify to play some Mac Miller.
“I asked you one time if I hurt you while going down on you and you use it in a song?” she shook her head.
"You know I'm sensitive." He
"You're so annoying."
“Can I be real?” Jack asked her. She nodded, letting him know to continue. “I was kinda nervous to work with the producer who worked on this.”
“Why’s that?”
“She was a girl–”
“Ay que hueva, women can produce–”
“Let me fucking finish, damn.” Jack cut her off.
“Okay pues, finish.”
“I was nervous to work with her because she only worked with this work band under Ryan Tedder.”
“Are you talking about Aaliyah Douglas?” Monse asked.
“How do you know her?”
“She’s Alexis Ximena’s best friend.”
“I have no idea who that is.”
“Remember when you came over a while back and we binged that one show about the kids that are trapped in a dome and get superpowers.”
“Deadass, I don't pay attention to what you have playing on your Mac, I'm just tryna smash.” he smirked.
“I can’t stand you.” she rolled her eyes.
Monse pulled up to an empty pump and grabbed her wallet. She read the paper in front of the card reader and frowned. It said that the card reader wasn't working, so she had to go inside to put money in the pump.
“I have to go inside the store to pay, do you want something?” she asked Jack.
“I’m good,” he said. “Want me to go in with you?”
“Nah,” she said, getting out.
Jack kept an eye out on her while she was in the store. She was in and out in less than five minutes with some Turbo Flamas. A stereotypical white gas station guy in a wife beater began to walk behind her, rambling off about her ass. Jack quickly got out and went up to her, putting his arm over her shoulders.
“Fuck off, man.” he said to the guy when he noticed he was still following them. He nodded to Monse to get in the car.
“Whatever, she's not even that hot, man.” The guy yelled before he walked away.
Jack leaned in the car window and asked her softly, “you okay? He didn’t try anything?”
She nodded, “I’m okay.”
He nodded and filled up her car. Once he finished he climbed back in and drove them to Monse’s taco shop in LA. She was from San Diego and nothing could compare to the tacos from down there. The shop was a small hole in the wall restaurant. The inside was just the kitchen and the small stand where people go to make their orders. By the entrance was a large window that was converted into a long bar with stools for people to sit and eat. There were also some tables outside of the restaurant for people to dine there as well.
Jack parked across from the taco shop and put in a few quarters. He opened Monse’s door and guided her to the cross walk. Hand in hand they crossed the street and went to the shop.
When they got there, there were only two people in line. Monse ordered for them, Jack tended to get flustered when he ordered and got the wrong thing. She got a plate of carne asada fries with a tamarindo flavored Jarrito and for Jack a California burrito with a Mexican coke. She made sure that their foods were without guacamole or any sort of avocado because she was allergic to avocado. They learned their lesson on her birthday a few weeks ago because she felt itchy when Jack went down on her, and had to take her to the ER. They learnt that even the smallest trace can cause her an allergic reaction, so Jack never ate avocado when he was with her.
Jack tapped his card and signed the receipt.
"That's a new one." Monse nodded at his signature.
"I'm testing out new ones for when I make it big and people ask for autographs." He said taking the other receipt.
"Maybe wait because who knows when that will be." She said sweetly before sipping on her drink.
"This is how you treat me after I buy you food?" He said with a solemn face, touching his heart. "You wound me, Mon-say."
"You know damn well that I'm only out here because you promised me food."
*
After they ate, they went back to her apartment. Monse had a poem analysis due at midnight, so she was finishing that up. Jack laid on her bed, scrolling through movies on his phone to see which movie they should play as background noise for when they had sex.
"I didn't know Ray J's sister was in this?" Jack said out loud. "Hell, I didn't even know there was a sequel to this."
"What?" She asked, as she formatted her work to MLA.
"They have 'I Still Know What You Did Last Summer' on Netflix." He passed her his phone.
"Did you just call thee Brandy Norwood, Ray J's sister? Put some respect on Cinderella." Monse shook her head.
"Is she not his sister?" He asked.
"How do you know him but not Brandy?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "She's way more famous than him. I didn't even know they were siblings until I watched a rerun of Punked."
Jack simply shrugged.
"One of these days, not knowing who Brandy is, if gonna bite you in the ass." She warned him.
"I take it that we're watching this."
"Yes." She nodded, ticking off all the bullet points she had to put in the submission box.
After that she pulled up Netflix on her tv and searched for the movie on the search tab. Once she found it, she pressed play. Monse switched to a pair of baggy sweats that she was positive were Jack's and climbed in bed with him. Her bed was big enough for her to lay her head on Jack's stomach while he laid lengthwise in the middle of the bed.
Monse lost interest when the actor who played Fred Jones in the Scooby-Doo movies almost got killed. She looked up at Jack to see if he was bored since he usually got bored five minutes into a movie and tried to make a move on her but he was actually watching. She rolled her eyes and looked in front of her.
That was when she noticed that Jack's tank top rode up, revealing a happy trail. Monse smiled mischievously and slid her hand down to the sliver of bare skin. Her fingertips lightly danced on the drawstrings of Jack’s shorts.
“Don’t even think about it.” Jack said, pushing himself to sit up.
“You say that as if you weren't the one blowing up my phone not even two hours ago.” Monse said, straddling his lap.
“Now I got you how I wanted you.” he smirked before pulling to close the gap between them.
It didn’t take long for them to get naked. Jack used his other hand to pull one of her legs over his waist as he deepened their kiss. Monse loosened the grip around his waist and used her thighs to grind into him. Jack groaned in pleasure. What felt like an eternity later, he pulled away and kissed down her body. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down to her chest. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the love bites on her chest, he captured her lips once more. Monse desperately needed him inside of her. She yearned to have him inside of her.
As reading her mind, Jack pushed himself up to give himself some room. He held his cock in his hand ready to slip it in Monse, but she stopped him.
“What’s up?” he asked her.
“Do you have condoms? I ran out of the pill like two weeks ago and I haven’t gone to get more because I was busy with finals and stuff–”
“You don’t have to explain.” Jack reassured her. He reached down for his shorts and checked his wallet. He cursed when he came out empty. “I don’t have any.”
“Wait! Serena left a bunch in the bathroom.” Monse said, remembering.
“I’ll get them.”
Jack put on his boxers. He went down the hallway to the bathroom. There was nothing. He checked the medicine cabinet and there was nothing but skin care products and feminine products. He looked under the sink and came up empty.
“Are you sure she left them in the bathroom?” Jack asked her when he returned to her room.
“Yeah, she put them on top of the sink. Are they not there?” Monse panicked. He shook his head. “Fuck, and all the stores near are always out.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure this one time won’t kill us. I’ll get you a Plan B in the morning if that makes you feel better.”
“Yeah that’s fine.” she agreed.
Jack kicked off his boxers and climbed in bed. “So where were we?”
Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @whywontyoulovemecami @meyocoko @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento
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ִֶָ࣪𓂃 * -` 🧁 ´- natsuki npts 📝 ㅤׂㅤ⭒
─ 𖦹 ˙ ̟Names
Summer, Melody, Mallow, Ribbon, Valentina, Vanilla, Dotty, Parfait, Bonnie, Phoebe, Millie, Charlotte/Lottie, Allison, Moxie, Mitzi, Abigail, Blossom, Olivia, Sofiya, Harper, Maribelle, Nataliya
─ 𖦹 ˙ ̟Pronouns
Cute/Cute's, .Chr/.Chr's, Poem/Poem's, Glitch/Glitch's, Berry/Berrie's, Choco/Choco's, Sugar/Sugar's, 🩷/🩷's, 🐶/🐶's, 🌸/🌸's, 🧁/🧁's, 🍭/🍭's, 🍮/🍮's, 🌈/🌈's, 🎀/🎀's, 🫧/🫧's
─ 𖦹 ˙ ̟Titles
Member of the Literature Club, (Prn) of all Things Cute, The One Writing Flowery Poems, Advocator of Comics
#npts#npt list#name suggestions#pronoun suggestions#title suggestions#ddlc natsuki#ddlc#ddlc natsuki npts#ddlc npts#requests#👁🪽
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20s | He\Him | Asks and dms always open, it\eng | Letterboxd | Goodreads
TAGS | things | tattoos | my pics | movies watched | bunny | web weaving\parallels | writings\fragments\poetry | star wars (!!!) | (STILL FIXING)
SERIES\MOVIES \CARTOONS\ANIMES that i already posted are in the tags
Actors, filmography posted | Lorenzo Zurzolo, Ewan Mcgregor, Hayden Christensen, Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Alessandro Gassman, Nicolas Maupas
Cool Actors mostly Cool Movies or Just Hot :p no filmography posted – yet | Tim Roth, Ethan Hawke, Dev Patel, Mia Wasikowska, Andrew Garfield, Owen Campbell, James Duval, Matt Dillon, River Phoenix, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Keanu Reeves, Jake Gyllenhaal, Heath Ledger, Natalie Portman, Chloë Sevigny, Matthew McConaughey, Willem Dafoe, Woody Harrelson, Takeshi Kaneshiro, Johnny Depp, Mia Goth, James Dean, Francois Arnaud
Lista film e serie italiani già visti; Italian movies & shows, not ranked
Good movies, Cool animes, Fav books
Cool Mangas | Princess Jellyfish, Beastars, The Promised Neverland, Gangsta, Blue Period, We Were There
Cool Authors | Anne Carson, Mary Oliver, Valentina D'urbano, Louise Gluck, Simone Weil, Elena Ferrante, Anne Sexton, Elsa Morante
Cool Directors | Gregg Araki, Gus Van Sant, Danny Boyle, Alice Rohrwacher, Wong Kar Wai
FAVS | giorno per giorno disperatamente, east of eden, giles corey, one, stripped car, giles corey, my brother at 3 am, jude st francis,ari n dante, i would i might forget, the angels, nothing is heard, dog motif, liberation, fear, for my father, autobiography OR, two ,spn x nox, i lay my brother down, spn x ben 10 , face in the tree, not your fault
listona di poesie\poem masterlist kind of
TXF x SUPERNATURAL | one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19)
RANDOM PARALLELS | 8x23\9x1, 10x23\1x16, jack\dean, mopi x spn, merlin x spn one, two, three, morgana x sam, frailty 2001
#Road House 2024#Saltburn#The Passenger#Bleeding love#Pinocchio#Raymond and Ray#Aristotle and Dante#Dinner in America#Star wars (1-6)#Babyteeth#Kingdom of the white wolf#Christopher Robin#The Maze Runner#Blade Runner#i am not a serial killer#manchester by the sea#Beginners#Twilight#Friday the 13th#i love you philliph morris#DeVour#the beautiful person#deception#jumper#virgin territory#awake#James Dean: a portrait#House of wax#My own private idaho#Mysterious skin
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Spotlight Art - Healing From Emotional Pain - Painting of the Day by Valentina Kisseleva - The Peace of Wild Things - A Poem by Wendell Berry
© Valentina Kesseleva, Healing from Emotional Pain, 2022
The Peace of Wild Things – A poem by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in meand I wake in the night at the least soundin fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,I go and lie down where the wood drakerests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.I come into the peace of wild thingswho do not tax their…
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#Art#Art Music Photography Poetry Quotations#Artist#Goff James Art Music Photography Poetry Quotations#goffjamesart#Healing from Emotional Pain#Painting#Poem#Poet#Poetry#The Peace of Wild Things#Valentina Kesseleva#Wendell Berry
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Who?
A poem(ish) by Valentina A.W.
A bit of context for this poem, if you could call it that. I have manic depressive disorder; (or as you guys might know it) I’m bipolar. Usually I’m able to manage it pretty well but in times of stress (as I’m going through now) it comes forwards to the point I can’t handle it. I have manic episodes and depressive episodes that last for days and affect my relationships and my work. I know this is pretty heavy handed for a meme/poetry account but this is my blog so I can do what I’d like. This is my life and this is who I am. Thank you for reading and on to the writing!
I can feel myself slipping from my fingers.
The person I am now is fighting against the person I was, a metamorphosis I didn’t expect and now I fear reverting back to. Why do I say goodbye to the good times?
Why do I weep?
Are the tears that spill from my eyes as heavy as the spring rain the price I have to pay for my time? What would I tell that girl when I left?
What do I leave behind and what do I have to come back to? The emptiness and monotone routine of my days. I feel like I’m wearing a mask over who I am,
I haven’t been myself for so long. And now when she finally peeks from her shell to wave at the world around her, I must leave again.
I separate myself from her, I don’t know why. Who thinks these thoughts?
Who pours forth these tears and emotions. If I control my anger and my response to that,
who controls the rest?
#murder rants!#original poem#poems on tumblr#poetry#poem#tw bipolar#this one is a lot of my own digesting#ask for tags
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Marina Tsvetaeva, excerpt from Poem of the Mountain, Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Valentina Coe)
#lit#quotes#poetry#typography#marina tsvetaeva#poem of the mountain#selected poems of marina tsvetaeva#russian lit#where ghosts and shades do tread#reading#m#x
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Chapter to Poem
Rules: Turn a piece of your writing/chapter into poem form it can be as long as you want it to be.
Tagging: @heymacareyna @chekhovs-tantrum @joeys-piano @axl-ul @prahacat @jasperygrace @hellfire286 @garthcelyn @faelanvance @violets-in-her-arms-writes @irianeth @namesarehard123 and open tag
I made it really fucking long and also I spent ages making rhymes even when I didn't need to.
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WIP : Havenpoint
A veil of safety, cast by glowing light,
Yet its watery glow, a deceptive guise,
A fleeting facade, ready to vaporize,
Leaving me stranded in the cold of night.
Laughter echoes from tables, filling the heavy air,
But one voice is absent, causing unrest,
Aidene's silence, a weight on our chest,
An awkward silence, our table's despair.
A conversation whispered, glances exchanged,
Anne's imploring tone, met with Aidene's curt disdain,
Aidene's pleading eyes, met with Anne's anger's reign,
Their banter burns, my patience is estranged.
Enough! I interject, irritation expressed,
Annoyance ignites, my nerves set ablaze,
A lover's spat I called it, I'm tired of the maze,
Impatiently, I demand the secrets confessed.
Aidene's eyes narrow, curiosity grows,
With playful demeanor, she reveals a lead,
A buried floor, a secret to be freed,
Excitement gleams, yet a darkness it shows.
Careful, I remind myself, caution in tow,
As Aidene studies me, calculating, astute,
Her eyes noting each subtle reaction, acute,
Unsettling thoughts, wondering what she knows.
Her gaze shifts to Valentina and Roy,
A challenge set, a question in her eyes,
How willing am I to share this surprise?
Reluctantly, I nod, their inclusion deployed.
Aidene takes the floor, her voice enchanting,
Describing haunted nights, fragile papers found,
Screeching shelves moved, secrets underground,
Her words control us, our hearts left panting.
Amidst her tale, whispers echo within,
A familiar voice, hauntingly close,
Observing Aidene, just as I do, it knows,
A presence unseen, playing its own sin.
And so, the chapter unfolds, secrets revealed,
A locked door, a key yet to be found,
An offer of help, a pact unbound,
Anxiety lingers, a truth concealed.
As the table quiets, and the headmaster glares,
An icy fear grips my heart, unexplained,
Questions swirling, doubts unrestrained,
Into the night, I walk, burdened with cares.
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