whole world on ya

28 | USMC Vet | Firefighter When you got the time, slow down. When the whole world is on ya, rise up.

[deon-solomon-blog]

cassidyxmichealis:

She shook her head, leaning back on the train seat. “Thanks,’ she said with a small smile. “Yeah-my car broke down and I couldn’t get back to the club like I want to, and on top of that my bloody heel broke on the way here and I don’t have my fuckin’ flats with me and now I just want to go home and wish this day never happened!” Cassidy said as she felt her eyes tearing up.

Oh God -- oh God, what was he supposed to do? He’d never seen a girl almost burst into tears on a train before. He’d seen drunk girls, sure, at night, and girls who couldn’t stand up and girls who were having rough days, but he’d never actually bore witness in front of his own eyes a girl who was about to have a breakdown on the subway. His heart picked up in double time again, and he gripped harder to the rail, his mouth ajar. “Uh...” He looked around to see if someone would maybe come to his social rescue. “Yo, like... I feel you. Shitty days happen.” He shrugged. “You got a place to go home to, though, right? Clothes on your back? Think you’re gonna be all right.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

dr-athenamontgomery:

Athena jumped, as she was met with an elbow very close to her face. It took her a moment not to be startled. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” She shook her head. “Are you okay? You look rather frazzled.”

He composed himself after the almost-scare, thankful he didn’t actually make contact. The last thing he needed on an already stressful morning would be to hit a woman square in the face. “Cool, yeah, sorry about that,” he rushed out again, putting his bag between his feet and steadying himself on one of the rails. “I’m good. Thanks. Just one of those mornings.” He smiled kindly, a little tired still, waking up.

[deon-solomon-blog]

lucydanicls:

          She wasn’t expecting an elbow to her face first thing in the morning… afternoon…? Lucy couldn’t really tell what time it was. She had just as quickly left the small apartment she was in as she had arrived in it, plus with added regret to have even done it in the first place. She put a hand over her nose (the one part of her that shouldn’t be hit, since she actually needed her face to perform) and let out a small ouch, massaging it and pinching the bridge of her nose, but even that couldn’t really keep her from sneezing. “Fuck, you have a strong elbow, I’ll tell you that,” another sneeze. Shit, would that be happening the rest of the day? She was fucked if so. “I am good though, nothing seems to be broken, my eyes are not watering, you just,” sneeze, “left me with an annoying sneezing situation.”

He had a hard time feeling completely guilty, because her reaction was so quirky and unexpected, he couldn’t help the gushy smile that spread onto his face. Sure, he felt shitty for hitting her in the first place, but she was being a good sport about it, and watching someone get into a sneezing fit because of an elbow to their nose wasn’t something he’d really ever seen before. “Shit, sorry,” he said again, eyebrows turning inward. “Getting hit in the face makes you sneeze? That’s some bomb ass party trick,” he laughed, digging into his pockets again and producing a tissue for her. “Would be even weirder if getting kicked in the shins made you backflip or something. You’d be a millionaire.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

gwenmcguinness:

“Sad t’say it prolly wouldn’ be the firs’ guitar related decapitation tha’ the city has ever seen,” Gwen laughed, adjusting the strap of the case on her shoulder to make certain that that wouldn’t be what happened.  She looked enviously at Deon’s coffee as he raised it – she should have grabbed a cup to go before she’d left the diner. However, it would be counterproductive if she wanted to sleep as soon as she got home so she could make her shift that evening. God, her sleep schedule was so fucked up… “Endin’ f’me,” she told him, wrinkling her nose briefly. “I work at a diner – twenty-four hour place. I usually keep better hours as well meself, but one o’the girls I work with jus’ had a baby so I’ve tried t’pick up a few of her more undesirable shifts t’help ou’. Y’work ‘round here?”

“You’re probably right, all these freakin’ crazy art people with their guitars and cameras and shit,” he joined in her laughter, relaxing into the smooth way she’d put a balm over the situation that could have otherwise been disastrous. The subway was often unkind to mistakes, trips, bumps, all things clumsy and human. Deon nodded with a mirrored wrinkle of his face. “Yeah, I know that life, too,” he replied. “Pullin’ twenty-fours is no joke. That’s good of you to help a girl out. Especially after a baby. When my sister had her baby she was out of commission for months. I’m sure she appreciates you steppin’ up.” He took another swallow of coffee before nodding. “BFD. Just a little out of the South End. You?”

[deon-solomon-blog]

rebeccacharleston:

“That was likely a much better way to spend the time rather than in the airport,” Rebecca mused with a small smile, glancing out the window. First impressions could often be wrong and that certainly seemed to be the case here. The negativity was felt coming off of him, the fun and adventure she had been seeking turned fast. Too fast. However, Rebecca had been in tough spots before so she remained relaxed in her seat. “I only passed through Malibu but I wish I had spent a little more time. The beaches are so much better in Southern California rather than coastal Oregon.”

With a smile she nodded, thinking he was lucky to have that. She never really had a chance to know what home really was, as she and her mother moved around too often until she was then abandoned at thirteen. “Sounds like you might stick close to Roxybury even then.” And Rebecca couldn’t blame him for that. The thought of pudding in a cup as a drink made her chuckle softly, and she shook her head when she looked at Deon. “I’m not sure I even want to try that,” she playfully frowned. “Doesn’t sound appealing. Not if it’s that thick.”

He couldn’t agree more; staying in the airport hadn’t been a choice made out of preference, rather necessity -- there were only so many layover flights he could afford to snag to get him home after that trip, and he was dying to sit on the couch next to his family after ten months of departure. He’d missed too many Sunday dinners and after-school kindergarten events to think about spending another minute away. “They’re better than most beaches, except maybe on the islands,” he agreed. “Soft sand, blue water. Plus the people are real nice down there. Lots of rich folk, but they didn’t really go where we went.”

Deon scoffed, nodding, not really knowing if he would ever move past the confines of Boston. It never felt like a cage like some hometowns did, so he was told. She got a laugh out of him as she commented on the hot chocolate. “There’s a situational joke to be made in there somewhere,” he chuckled, wagging is finger at her and sliding down in the seat to get more comfortable, his long legs easy and taking up a healthy space in the backseat. “Don’t like thick chocolate. What’m I doing in this car, then?”

[deon-solomon-blog]

Do you have any regrets?

So far? Not really. I haven’t done anything stupid enough yet. Gimme time.

[deon-solomon-blog]

do you have your eye on someone right now?

Nah. Don’t know anyone well enough to have my eye on ‘em. People look good, you look that way, people look good somewhere else, you look that way. You keep lookin’ back and forth until you find someone who jives with your swing, feel me?

[deon-solomon-blog]

If money and time weren't an issue, what would be your dream vacation?

Bali, for sure.

[deon-solomon-blog]

is your life an action film, a comedy, a romantic comedy, or drama?

Brother was in the Corps and grew up in West Roxbury, baby, we got ourselves an action-comedy.

[rp-memes-and-more]

honesty hour!

ask my muse anything, nothing is off limits and they have to answer with complete honesty. 

[deon-solomon-blog]

pickmypockets:

James always got ready at home, usually with the help of his roommate Katherine, and then went to the venue by train. As Polly, he loved getting looks and stunning people with her looks. Same thing tonight - the subway was packed and all seats were taken, so Polly had to balance the stops on her 6 inch heels, clinging to the pole like her life depended on it. The exceptionally hot fellow who’d just sprinted into the car wasn’t to first one to bump into her today, but he was definitely the friendliest yet. “Oh, please, don’t worry about it, my dear. You having a stressful day, hm?”

It wasn’t that he lived a high kosher life, but he grew up outside the city and joined a highly enclosed community right after graduation. He was still familiar with the tricks and trades the city held, even as its underbellies sometimes showed themselves above ground. He liked when he got surprised by things he wasn’t expecting to see, especially on what he could only describe as a less than carefree morning. He grinned in delight at the woman he’d bumped into, glad he’d found her in a good mood -- too often the typical New Englander was eager to show their grimmer side. “I don’t know about stressful,” he answered with a shrug. “I could have been more on time, I guess. I was lucky I buttoned all the way up my shirt, and you come out here lookin’ all kindsa made up. Damn. Now that ain’t fair.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

text: deon

mara: do you prefer movies over plays? because most people do. and it's not about being uncultured, maybe you are not that interested.

mara: duuh, i wouldn't want make you wait at the stage even though you almost broke my nose. i am not a monster.

deon: last time I got to sit down and watch a movie, I can't even remember. let alone a play.

deon: hahaha she got jooookes. aight sounds good to me. where's the play at?

[deon-solomon-blog]

text: deon

mara: oh god no, it's not fancy at all.

mara: it's a normal play, a modern one. it's called fool for love.

mara: i designed the costumes, i mean there wasn't much to design since it's a modern play but yeah.. it's a good one

deon: that sounds dope. I don't see plays very much. I guess I'm uncultured.

deon: do I get a VIP pass to meet you backstage or do I have to wait at the stage door like some kinda chump haha

[deon-solomon-blog]

rcneealexander:

“Those are not really presents, are they?” She pursed her lips to the side and bit on her bottom lip. “I mean, they are a nice, family birthday celebrations, but if I give her that, I think she’ll never look at my face again—” Renee chuckled with a small shake of her head. She was a twenty five year old woman before, wasn’t she? “Money is a good kind of gift, I think, a little bit impersonal, but at least she can decide whatever she wants to buy.”

He shrugged again, having now had his head turned on what was considered a present and what wasn’t. Kiara always like those gift certificates to nail places, or even just a bottle of pretty polish when he was a kid. He guessed twenty-five year olds had changed in taste since then. “Sounds like she’s got some high requirements,” he smirked. “I don’t know -- a purse? Or something? You’re asking the wrong fella.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

cassidyxmichealis:

Cassidy couldn’t believe the luck she had today-her car broke down, she couldn’t get to the club like she wanted, and now she had to catch the train to go home. She was leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes and wishing the day was over when someone gave her a healthy tap, making her jump and stared at him, but nodded and calmed down. “Yeah I’m good,” she answered tiredly. “Just reflecting on my bad day, that’s all.”

Must’ve been something in the air today. The feel going around the car seemed to be in that dreary kind of morning commuter style, everyone drowning their sleepiness in coffee and their misery in their headphones. It was only a few stops to the city, so he didn’t mind the racket of the steel on steel, the sighs, the coughs, the shuffling of feet. But the woman he’d bumped clearly was not on the same page. He winced, his face falling. “Sorry,” he said again, inching to give her some more space and holding his jacket close. “Bad day already? Just started.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

theelsalarsson:

“Hey, you cut straight to the point, huh?” She laughed. He was ridiculous, she could tell, but she liked that. He was himself, and that was good enough for her. “That’s definitely not why, but you go on believing that. Brand deals post olympics are pretty sweet, I will say.” She chuckled. “Fantastic! But you’re going to have to buy me dinner first.” 

“Ay, money makes the world or somethin,” he laughed, holding out his arm in mock defense. He playfully rolled his eyes as she tacked on the bit about brand deals, knowing that was buried in there somewhere and that she had to be patting herself on the back for that one. “Damn, she think she smooth,” he grinned again, this time wider, from one cheek to the other, all the way across. “I got a few spots.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened it to a new contact page, and held it in her direction. “If the Olympic gold medalist would be so kind to a scrappy kid like me.”

[deon-solomon-blog]

gwenmcguinness:

“No worries, you’re alrigh’,” Gwen assured him, taking a grip on the pole at the space the stranger had cleared up, checking over her shoulder to make sure that she wasn’t clocking into anyone with her guitar case as he shifted her body to a steadier stance. “It’s happens, I’m lucky I haven’ ttaken anyone’s head off with this thing,” she said, jutting her thumb back over her shoulder at her guitar. Gwen took a moment to look over the crowd on the train – university students headed to campus, people heading to work – almost everyone had headphones in or coffee in hand. She glanced back into the direction of the guy she was sharing the pole with. “Day endin’ for you or jus’ startin’?”

Either she wasn’t from anywhere near Boston, or the lady had never seen anything other than the likes of Boston -- based on her accent, anyway. Maybe he just didn’t get into city proper enough. Most everyone in Roxbury and Dorchester were born and bred in the soil they walked on, save for the influx of college kids that arrived each September and left each May. He smiled at the way the guitar seemed to nearly overpower her stature; like a mouse carrying a too-big block of cheese that it was very, very proud of. It was cute. “Just don’t go swingin’ it around,” he chuckled, “you’ll be on the 6 o’clock news for sure.” Taking a sip of his coffee, he held it up as indicator. “Weirdly, starting. One of the few days in the week I gotta go in at a normal hour. You?”