𝕮𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓...

... 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 // Oscar, she/her, 26, Italy. // 🌸 Intersectional feminist 💕💛💙 // I try to be a writer, but I read lots of smut instead // «Keats is dead so fuck me from behind, Slowly and with carnal purpose» // Occasionally 18+ // Lovepunk // Instagram: @gassa.d.amante

[somebitchprobably-graphicdump]

hi hi!! I absolutely LOVEEE your dividers and was wondering if you could make some like pirate/ocean themed dividers??

Pirate/ Ocean dividers

Sorry this took like a month to do lmao i hope these are what you had in mind 🐋⚓️

F2U just interact / like or reblog. Tag if you want to but it’s not necessary

[gassadamante]

I'll probably never post my writings here but these are soooo pretty, I love them, I wanna use them all

[mintmatcha]

immortal and the human they've been cursed to watch die over and over again

[mintmatcha]

he remembers the first time you left him, the way you gently gave into the fever and went. the heat of your skin rose and rose, then it was over, and then you were gone. he gave you one last kiss on your cracked lips and pretended you were there to feel it.

he mourned, of course. harder than he had ever mourned any other lover he had ever entertained.

it was fifty years later before he saw you again. a baker's daughter, softer around the waist, with the same laugh you've always had. of course, you had no memory of your past life, but you fell into loving him like it was habit.

that death was the hardest.

Heat took you once again, this time in the form of fire. the bakery's flame caught your skirt and you along with it. by the time you were saved, it was too late. the final days of your life were spent in horrible pain, crying and screaming and begging for death. by the time it came, it felt overdue.

the cycle kept repeating. the two of you would meet and within five years, you would die. illness and childbirth and a stray bullet from war; even in the lives he tried to avoid you, tragedy would follow. once, you had married another man, only for him kill you within the month.

the worst part, he thinks as he stares at the most current iteration of you, is that his chest still flutters with joy when he sees you for the first time. that, despite the trauma and heartbreak and horror, he still loves you more than anything.

[mintmatcha]

He can feel it coming this time. There's a tickle in the back of his mind, like a click ticking down each second he has left.

"You've got-" He tugs the laces of your boots, your foot stepping up on his thigh. He loves kneeling over like this, at your feet. it reminds him of the very short life you had as a princess. "To tie your shoes better."

"What's gotten into you?" you laugh. "I'm not made of glass."

He lets you pull away, sitting back on to his heels. It's amazing how little your face has changed over all of your lives, how you still look the way you did when he first laid eyes on you, just with more lines around your smile. This is the oldest you've ever been-- and maybe ever will be. "Are you sure? I could swaddle you in bubble wrap, just to be safe."

You roll your eyes with a smile. "Sure, I'll just walk around the office covered in bubblewrap. My boss will love that."

The itch in his head gets stronger.

"Why don't you stay home for work today?" His hand runs up your leg, more appreciative than sexual. "Spend the day with me."

He leans forward and presses his head into your thigh, the way you've always been weak for. Your hands immediately find his hair and scratch his scalp, your body's tension giving in just a bit.

"Well..."

"Please." He's not really speaking to you. "Just give me one day."

You give in gently.

"Anything for you."

.

It happens three hours later.

You're laughing, pulling your shirt back on post sex. Lately, you've been insatiable and he knows why.

"I'm just saying-" you muse. "we're stable, we're in love. I'm just waiting for the ring."

He knows. He still has your original ring, the one he always takes from your finger before burying you.

"I'm not getting any younger. I wanna have babies and t-"

Your eyes shift a bit. It's subtle, until you make this garbled sound, not quite a word at all, like your tongue has disconnected from your brain.

Before he can get up, you're on the ground. Just like always, you're give into death gently.

The beat of your heart is gone before he can even call for help. By the time the EMTs arrive, you're cold. They cover you with a blanket, like it saves your diginity as you wheel you out of the apartment building. He cries, just like he always does, when the doctors tell him it was an aneurysm, that nothing could have saved you.

That's the horrible truth he needs to learn to swallow. Nothing could have saved you. Nothing will save you.

[mintmatcha]

For the first time in centuries, he speaks to the thing that made him. It comes only in the deepest of nights, when the winter air is most bitter.

"Why do you curse me like this?"

The voice tastes of forgotten pine, a species now lost. "Why do you speak in tongues I do not know?"

The language should be dead, but it rolls off his tongue as easily as it did back then. No written word, no official name in the modern tongue: a secret between him and the monster he's bonded to.

"You take her from me, life after life." He never ages, but he feels young again, angry, reckless. "You lied to me when you promised a painless life. You lied when you promised no one else would die."

The wind howls with insult. There's a moment where he can feel it there, hunched and hovering above his shoulder, maw gaped and empty.

"The only lie is the one you tell yourself."

It's gone again, nothing but a whispering voice on the breeze. Without worshippers, it no longer holds much power. Without him, it would fade into nothing, just like the other forgotten gods.

"I know your mind does not fail you. You remember your first meeting with the girl."

"In the summer fields."

"Ach. Your lie." It growls its words. "That was her second life."

He has no answer to that. No, he had met you in the fields, right after the grain had sprouted. The memory is his prized possession.

"You play your tricks again."

"You truly forget the face of the woman you sacrificed in my name?" The hiss runs a chill up his spine. "The one who you killed with your own hands? The one who's blood you drank to live for all eternity?"

Blood is always the price. He had taken a woman from the neighboring village, covered her face in cloth so he could not see the tragedy he was committing. The ritual was long, grueling, and the girl had almost died too soon multiple times, but she fought to live, fought against his hand-

"No." Those screams. Were they yours? "That's- no."

"You had chosen her to die, so you may live."

His stomach turns as he remembers the taste of your blood on his lips, the metal aftertaste as you fought with the last ounce of life-

"Now, she dies."

[gassadamante]

I'm coming out of a depressive episode and I'm feeling somewhat pretty again. Let's see how long it will last. Also, someone today complimented my braids, so I guess it should be celebrated!

[saint-sapphic]

Victory of the Sea (Jan Saudek, 1992)

[gassadamante]

That necklace is actually a jack knife, isn't it cute?

[gassadamante]

I almost forgot how much I liked being marked up.

[gassadamante]

Feeling like I need an octopus tattoo on my hip.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Sex Scenes

It takes skill to write an immersive & emotional sex scene. Consider the following tips.

Is the sex scene even necessary?

Ask yourself this question.

GENRE

Sex scenes may depend on genre. Example:

If you're writing a romance novel, sex scenes are almost always mandatory. But if you're writing in another genre, like mystery or speculative fiction, you may not need to add sex at all.

Sex sells in Hollywood, but literature is more nuanced than film.

You don't need to include sex in your novel just to grab your reader's attention.

NATURAL FLOW

Characterization, pacing, and plotting should do the heavy lifting.

In fact, adding gratuitous sex to your novel may actually slow the pace, cheapen the story, destroy your characterization, and insult the reader.

Before adding sex to a story, always figure out if the move is something that your characters would actually make, or if it’s something that you’re forcing.

MOVING FORWARD

A follow-up question to ask is if this sex scene moves the story forward.

Sometimes, you can simply imply that sex happened without retelling the entire scene: It’s not always necessary to share every intimate detail with your readers, especially if it drags the pacing to a halt.

Don't get stuck in modesty mode

When you write sex scenes, it’s gonna get raw.

There are arms, legs, emotions, sweat, and nipples.

If that made you squirm, you’re not ready.

Come back after you’ve eaten some nachos, downed a beer, and thrown modesty out of the way.

This is the one time when you can’t think about who’s going to read your book.

Usually, editors recommend that you always visualize your reader when telling your story. However, no one wants to think about their mom (i.e. your average reader) when they’re documenting lurid sex.

Instead of thinking about your reader, think about the characters and what you’re seeing. Your job is to write down what you see the characters do.

If it’s clear to you, it will be clear to your reader.

Remember that you’re on this step because you believe this sex scene is integral to your story’s plot. So, if it makes sense for the characters, don’t allow your sense of embarrassment to weaken the story.

Use a lot of detail

Here is your daily dose of “show, don’t tell.”

Instead of saying that the characters had sex, describe exactly what’s going on. Look at each moment as a still photograph and describe what you see.

And don’t forget about the emotional exchange between your characters:

Record every bead of sweat.

Make mention of every moan.

How one may adjust their position for the other.

Describe the feeling behind every glance.

The pressure of each kiss.

The movement of light and shadow on their skin.

Employ restraint

After writing the sex scene, you may realize that there’s no need to include every single detail. This goes back to pacing.

If you spend a few pages, or even a chapter, detailing the entire sexual escapade, your storytelling can suffer.

The hot and heavy sex scene can become a grind to read.

Plus, slowing your pace may make it difficult to speed back up again.

Another reason to truncate your sex scene could be your audience.

If you’re writing for young adults (ages 12-18) or new adults (ages 18-30), the topic of sex scenes can get a little awkward.

Yes, some teenagers have sex, but does your average teenager need to read a full-on sex scene for it to have the intended impact? No.

Sometimes, restraint is necessary and even preferred in order to tell the best story to your reader.

See from your characters' eyes

Do not to visualize your mom while writing. Here’s a tip: Jump into one of the character’s heads and see it from their perspective.

Even if you’re writing your story from third-person omniscient, it’s essential that you stick with one perspective in the sex scene.

This cuts down on confusion (for your reader), helps with characterization, and provides for a more captivating reading experience.

The reader needs to be a part of the scene, not some awkward observer in the corner of the room (that’s your job).

Here’s how you do it: Assign an imaginary camera to one character so that the reader can see exactly what this character sees.

Writing a sex scene requires that you move in very closely to your characters. You’ve got to be all up in their space to tell it with breathless emotion.

If you switch characters, you’ll lose intimacy, so stick to one.

Make it tense

Tension is an important part of sex, and so it is with writing sex scenes.

In an effort to make them integral to your plot, your sex scenes should be tight with tension, but how do you do that?

Figure out what’s at stake for your characters. The reader needs to know what’s at risk for the characters before, during, and after sex (broken heart, broken promises, etc.).

Show the conflict within the character’s mind (perhaps one character is torn between wanting to have sex and wanting to leave).

Create conflict with another character (perhaps one of the characters is engaged to someone else).

Figure out what happens after the moment of glory

They had sex. Now what?

Don't end your chapter with a sex scene unless the next chapter starts with the repercussions of sex.

Otherwise, if you don’t tie the sex scene into the rest of the story, you’ll miss an important character development opportunity.

The reader needs to know what happens in the story immediately after the characters have sex as a result of them having sex:

Do they fall asleep together in love?

Do they wake up in the morning together in disgust?

Does one character leave?

How does the other, now-abandoned character feel?

Sex is a huge deal.

It should prompt the characters to make new choices that they may not have otherwise made.

If sex doesn’t change your characters, it doesn’t belong in your story.

Write it all at once

When writing a sex scene, don’t break your narrative to get a taco—Wait, why are you eating?

Sex demands your full attention (at least, good sex does).

And, just like with sex, you don’t want to break in the middle to do something else. After all, you wouldn’t stop in the middle of the act to eat a taco, would you? Don’t do it when writing a sex scene.

The ebb and flow, push and pull, rise and fall of sex are best written as one, flowing narrative. If you stop, it’s hard to capture that same moment.

After writing the scene, take a break. Then re-read.

Does it make you feel tingly? Then you’re doing something right.

When it’s time to edit/rewrite, only do so when you have the time to relive the scene from beginning to end.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Word List: For Sex Scenes

[lelif]

on survival

-// @aridante // @orivu // @buzzkillgirls // ? // ? // richard siken// @cemeterything // moomin, tove jansson// @disenchanted-killjoy // isn't that enough, shawn mendes// @ prettytheyswag on twitter// @ coletyumuch on twitter// ? // ? // bird by bird, anne lamott// undertale// @strawberrycircuits

[gassadamante]

Tonight I felt pretty for the first time in weeks, I guess I should wear this dress more often.

[a-hoe-for-dark-academia]

“When I am king, they shall not have bread and shelter only, but also teachings out of books; for a full belly is little worth where the mind is starved, and the heart.”

-Mark Twain, The Prince and the Pauper, 1881.

[gassadamante]

Today is one of those days when I feel like shit.

Like absolutely, awful, horrible shit.

Nothing really bad happened, just the usual life: work, a stupid boss, a situationship that ghosted me, parents that don't know when to shut up.

And yet, I feel like fifteen trains just run over me.

I see the few friends I have and they all seem to live the best life. I know it's not really true, they have problems and issues too, but my brain refuses to see them.

I just feel so fucking lonely today.

I've tried reading and writing and mindless scrolling but nothing seems to help. Nothing is filling this gigantic hole I have in the middle of my chest. I don't know what to do anymore.

I usually am the funny and positive friend, the logic one, the one that somehow can see solutions and alternatives. But I don't see them for myself.

I don't see the light at the end of this tunnel. I don't see anything and anyone.

I don't know what should I do. I guess this is a cry for help, for attention, for just a crumble of love.

For something, anything really, just to know that I'm not completely alone in this.

[gassadamante]

Don't know why I like blurred photos so much

[metamorphesque]

— Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra — Joseph Lorusso, Playing Their Song —

[gassadamante]

It's been awhile since I was on tumblr, but I'm in a hotel room, there's a perfectly clean mirror and I'm just a human.

[gassadamante]

Merry Christmas dear tumblr

[gassadamante]