Tengo tres neuronas y dos son tontísimas
Me abren un rol que se titula:
Mi cerebro: "Y si miro al horizonte puedo ver como la olas pelean por tocar tu piel..."
Yo: Oh, oh...
Yo: FUUUUUU...
Mi cerebro: ¡TU PIEL MORENA SOBRE LA ARENA! ¡NADAS IGUAL QUE UNA SIRENA! ¡TU PELO SUELTO MOLDEA EL VIENTO! ¡CUANDO TE MIRO ME PONGO CONTENTO!
A ver, que para que entendáis lo terrible que es tener esto metido en la cabeza no me queda más remedio que extender el problema:
Lo siento muchísimo, pero si yo sufro, sufrimos todes.
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Tagged by @chadillacboseman and @clicheantagonist (for six sentence sunday) and tagged back by @marivenah
tagging: @poetikat @direwombat @roofgeese @strangefable @confidentandgood @clonesupport @natesofrellis @incognito-insomniac @natesofrellis @sstewyhosseini @schoute and anyone else who has anything to share (I wasn’t sure if any of the far cry mutuals would want to read this so...)
In a move no one saw coming I have some Uncharted stuff this time around (none of my Far Cry stuff is worth reading yet). I enjoy writing the fluff when it comes to Sam and Sia so I went with the trope to beat all tropes - “Just One Bed” (somehow in all of my years of writing I have never used it):
The door swung open, a creaky old thing. It was barely able to hold on to its hinges during the winter storm they were caught in. If there was too strong of a draft it would likely be blown away. The train had been cancelled, cell service was next to non-existent, and since neither Siobhan nor Sam had the same cash flow as Rafe this was the best they could do on short notice. A small one room cottage, cramped and musty, fit more for a marooned fisherman than a thief and a researcher. The mattress was lumpy, the curtains dusty, and the shower was built for a hobbit and not a man who was over six feet tall.
She dropped her luggage in the doorway, staring at the room in dismay as rain dripped down her nose. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph."
From her tone alone he expected cockroaches to be climbing up the walls and the sink to be on fire. He pushed his way into the room as freezing water ran down the back of his neck from the gutter of the roof. "Oh come on, Sia. It's one night, I'm sure it's not that -"
One bed. It could have been worse, but considering the two of them had barely spent more than a few hours with each other this would certainly force them to get acquainted a little more intimately.
"Shit.” He rubbed at the wet spot on the back of his neck, rain water drenching the ringlets that sat there. He was fine with the situation but he wasn’t so sure the bookworm would be. “Well I mean, it's still better accommodation than I was staying in for the last decade."
She pulled her luggage into the room, dumping her suitcase on the old table by the door. She tied her hair up into a low bun and pulled off her coat, laying it over the back of the chair. Wiping the fog off of her glasses with her sweater, she chuckled while shaking her head, flicking the wet strands of hair off her face. "Should we leave that on the review, Samuel? Better than a Panamanian prison."
Shrugging his shoulder, he gave her a cheeky grin. "At least I'm allowed to smoke in the room." In the inside pocket of his sheepskin lined jacket he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter.
"You can feck right off with that.” She snatched the cigarette pack from his hand, shaking the paper packet at him. “You wanna smoke? On yer bike.” She looked up at him with a furrowed brow, barely coming up to his chest.
She was the crankiest little thing on two legs he’d ever met, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ever say that out loud.
"Yes, dear." He swung the duffel bag off his shoulder and down onto the table. He was relieved to be free of its weight. Hopping on to the bed, sinking down into the old mattress, his chin pressed to his chest as he watched her pace. "So which side do you usually sleep on?"
Her lips pursed, forehead wrinkled like a basset hound. "I'll take the couch. Thank you very much."
"The hell you will.” He sat up, resting on his forearms. “I'm not listening to you complaining for the rest of the trip about how your back hurts."
She moved closer to him, hands pressed to the back of her hips. Nudging at his foot with her knee. "Oh, so the ex-con thinks he can rough it better than I can, eh?"
Sliding forward on the bed, he sat upright on its edge. He’d never been at this angle with her before, having her look down at him with her mossy green eyes.
"You've been around too many toffee-nosed tea drinkers, it's rubbed off on ya.” He pulled off his coat and hung it over the footboard, water dripped off of it, pitter-pattering against the old wooden floor. “I'll take the couch."
Walking over to the old chesterfield in the corner, his face fell at the sight of it. There were stains on it so old he could have sworn it could be used for Rafe’s next archeological dig and that was only after you scraped off the fur coat’s worth of dog hair.
Staring down at the mess, they both looked at each other, not another word needing to be said.
"Ah, be off with ya. Share the bed."
"You sure? I don't want God smiting me for touching someone so pure."
She looked up at the ceiling above, holding her own communion with the Lord above, hoping he’d grant her the strength to make it through a night with this man. "Sure sounds like you really wanta be sleeping on that couch, Samuel."
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📓📓📓
Three?! I'm spoiled. Thanks! Now the trouble comes with trying to explain the plot (that I probably don't have lol). Alright, let's see....
the weight of all my sins (Naruto fic. Kakashi x oc)
Kei has always held anyone outside her team at a distance, but Kakashi has a way of slipping in between the cracks. - It's a story of dealing with grief, anger and coming to terms with the fact that they are all tools to be used however their village deems and they have to live with those scars. It's only once she lets people in that she starts finding a way to live.
It's mainly character driven and is a self vs self story. I don't have a plot yet lol.
Between Discord and Rhyme (Teen Wolf fic. Eventual Derek x oc)
Takes place s2. Siobhan arrives in Beacon Hills on behalf of an old friend. Facing an Alpha angry at her trespassing and creature she's never heard of before, she finds herself drawn into protecting the young and recently changed. Of course, the biggest threat against them is one she unintentionally brings. Along the way, the kids learn that there are many ways to be an Alpha and Siobhan finds herself somewhere she could really belong.
Untitled - (Sons of Anarchy fic. Eventual Jax x oc)
Thea arrives in Charming with one plan: take over the bar her father left them and stay out of sight, out of mind of the family her sister's marrying into. Armed with Casey as her friend and guard, and Bruce the giant mastiff, she's finally ready to get on with her life. But things in Charming rarely stay quiet for long, especially when she's drawn to the Teller garage and a certain blond haired menace decides he wants to know more. Of course, when the very thing she was running from shows up at her door, that's when the trouble really starts...
Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.
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I was super inspired by this little comic by @choccy-milky!!
Clora took the death of Sherlock personally.
I love the idea of Clora setting up the Hogwarts official "Keep Sherlock Alive" club, and poor Siobhan isn't aloud to join! Her name brings back painful memory's for them all.
But I hope you like my little take, it was fun to play with a different style, and another hairstyle for Siobhan!
Siobhan @wrongcog
Clora @choccy-milky
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