Stfumuny. - Tumblr Posts
who knew that the concert would be all i needed for me to get my ass up and work on SOL ( sins of lagos ) ? now everything ( as far as the cast list & prologue ) is done but i don’t know when i wanna post it…
back in the writing game in 24 hrs ! can’t wait to see where this book goes. so many things planned. and the best part ? i’m having fun doing this again.
Happy Sins of Lagos Day to all those the celebrate ( me ) !
back in the writing game in 24 hrs ! can’t wait to see where this book goes. so many things planned. and the best part ? i’m having fun doing this again.
I think the thing that differentiates sol from anything I’ve done before is— the amount of effort that’s gone into it. At first, I was wracking my brain with the entire process but all of a sudden, everything started flowing super naturally and I have my muse back. I’m at the point where I actually want to write. You know how long it’s been since I’ve wanted to go through the process of writing? On top of that I haven’t written strictly for Chris since like 2016, so I’m glad to be back. This book is my baby.
had a dream i wrote the most beautiful and eloquently formatted chapter one as clear as day, and i never dream about writing but that was some good shit. like what do you mean i didn’t actually type all that?
i think there's a certain nerve-wracking vulnerability that comes with the territory of creating and putting things out there into the world. especially when you do so from a place of authenticity or self-expression. people will " why do you care what others think " you to death-- but it's not just caring about what people think, it's more so, wondering and being concerned that things don't resonate. that the vision won't be seen in a way that it is to you. things hold sentiment and weight. to share that can feel like a certain nakedness. not everyone can do things from the heart and a place of passion. when you are special enough to do so, you have to be okay with the times that it will miss the mark in the eyes of others or won't be valued... how you value it.
i’d lowkey give anything to go back to the Breezy 2022 era.
They literally let you have communities on here now, so if y’all didn’t already, why hasn’t anybody made a roleplay community strictly for the rp accounts/people who wanna plot to find each other? like them being all in one space, I think I wanna back out of retirement, I miss the delusion, lowkey.
keith done pissed me off so bad…. but he so fine, still.
normalize not telling your story in a traditional way because it's not always enjoyable to follow a formula and just going where your inspiration flows. mmkay. like normalize just doing little interesting things for your book and your characters because it humanizes them more, world builds and makes people give a shit about them beyond a one dimensional sense. keep it fun, do what you enjoy, make it crazy. make it funny. make it interesting. normalize different methods of storytelling and alternatives to grip the audience, in a society full of fried ass attention spans.
nah like it disgusted me to see that shit in my notifications, like the audacity.
Taking likes back as if I wouldn’t get notified that you’re on my posts anyway… you’re blocked on just about everything , I don’t like you , stay over there weirdo.
somewhere torn between taking a break from everything for a little while and ‘ what else am i doing? ‘ because…. what else am i doing ?
all i wanted to do this fall is do my girl blogging, and post content and do my makeup and redecorate my apartment. what have i done so far? bed rot, sleep all fucking day and try not to crash out.
desire lookin’ at me…. lookin’ at him… lookin at akua… lookin at chase… lookin’ at this chapter one that hasn’t been touched in weeks…. 💃🏽😭😭😭 FAWK I GUESS WE BOTH AINT SHIT. 🤪😭😭😭😭💃🏽
݃ ⠀🈳 𓃉⠀⠀．. ★ 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙸𝚂 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂𝙻𝙴𝚈 ,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝙻𝙰𝙶𝙾𝚂 , 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙰 — 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 :
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ lowercase intended.
the putrid and thick smell of burning flesh mingled into his labored breaths as his tired, bloodshot red eyes patterned back and forth in the darkness, searching.
searching for a glimpse of light, any signs of life in the cold space of the damp room, an exit he could find, a random object left behind that he could lean down and grab to pick the lock of these chains or something useful.
his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the deafening silence that surrounded him. in it, he could hear the echoes of every memory, every moan, every laugh, that led him to this moment. beaten, bound and chained, on the cusp of death.
even then, akua was still on his mind.
his mind raced with void questions he knew he wasn't likely to get any answers to. things like, was she safe? where did they take her? was she still alive? what seemed to be hours ago, he heard her screams as she was ripped from his grip.
a sudden flashback hit him like a wave. they had been running through the narrow maze of alley ways downtown, as the sound of shouting and gunfire burst behind them. desire turned to see akua's terrified face, her eyes wide with fear.
they almost made it to safety when the men caught up with them, dragging akua away as desire fought desperately to hold on to her. the last thing he saw was her being thrown into a black van before he was knocked out and somewhere along the journey, ended up here.
his fruitless inquiries probed him as he struggled against the rusty uncomfortable chains that bound his arms behind his back. there may have been hope for her; something in his heart refused to believe she didn't make it out without fighting. it could've been the fact that she grew up hard or that she was always street smart and resourceful... but he, on the other hand, was far from safe.
nowhere in the cards did he foresee his flight to lagos all those months ago bringing him to something as sinister and unnerving as this. his intuition was usually right about looming danger and taking precaution of the unfamiliar, but not this time.
this time, his sixth sense failed him. his boundaries dissipated, his moral compass was snatched by her smile. her smell, the way she moved. the taste of her lips, her eyes. her accent, her culture. she held all of his reasoning in the palm of her hands.
he was alone in a room, and the evidence of fear began to settle in. where did he misstep? one minute he was immersed beneath the red strobes of the strip club, his body pressed against the warmth of her beautiful brown skin, and the next, he was tripping over his own two feet. lost, isolated, a wanderer in the world of the unknown.
silently praying for an escape. a blessing, or some relief, to a foreign god. as if answering his plea, the door creaked open, its heavy steel frame moving slowly. this was the first time it had been opened since he was thrown into this hell.
a figure stepped into the room, the blinding light of the world outside casted long, ghoul-like shadows on the graffitied concrete walls. he squinted, trying to make out who was entering. he hadn't caught more than a thirty second glimpse of who captured him before he was out cold. as the figure approached, his heart skipped a beat.
" desire, " the voice was soft, almost tender.
he recognized it immediately. it was akua. relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by his confusion. how did she manage to find him and what had they done to her?
" akua... baby, thank god you okay," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper that croaked from his dry and aching throat.
she stepped closer and closer to him, her face now visible from the door's light, but the look in her eyes wasn't one of concern or fear. her expression was still and she wasn't battered. not so much as a scratch was on her. a visual difference compared to how beat up he was.
she didn't speak as she knelt beside him, her dainty fingers gently tracing the lines of his bruised face. her touch was demure and affectionate as it always was, but it hurt to be touched. his brows drew together as he winced in pain.
something told him that he could hold off on the specifics of asking her what she went through or how did she get away, he was simply happy to see she was alive.
she leaned in, her lips delicately brushing along his jawline, sending a shiver of mixed emotions down his spine. for a brief moment, hope unfurled within him. maybe they would be able to get out in time.
⠀⠀⠀maybe there was still a chance for them to make it.
" do you remember when we met, you told me to use you however i want to? and how you'd do anything for me ? " she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. her voice was a seductive whisper laced with the thick accent of her native tongue and the distinct smell of liquor on her breath.
her collected but eerie demeanor in contrast to his own was telling him more than anything she could've ever said. he was worried, but hesitant. trying to decipher the meaning of her words.
his heart dropped as he struggled to understand where this was going and why she was bringing the past up at a dire time like now. they had bigger things to worry about if they didn't move swiftly.
" of course i do, but why you bringin' this up right now? we should be tryna to get out here... , you been drinkin' ? " he managed to choke out his concerns.
" this isn't a rescue mission... i'm not here to save you from any of this. i'm here to collect on that offer, " she continued, pulling back slightly, her eyes locking with his.
the sudden realization mercilessly sliced through the fragile hope he had clung to for hours in this hellish confinement.
her words were earthshaking, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was shifting. the weight of her betrayal pressed down on his chest, crushing him.
she wasn't here to help him? was this a setup? maybe their love got lost in translation. blurred somehow, somewhere along the lines of their time together over the last few months. he desperately hoped his sense of understanding was faulty and he was simply in a daze, dreaming, hallucinating—anything to make her words not mean what he thought they did.
" i don't know what they did to you in there kua, but please, babe... we can still make it out of here. we can still do everything we talked about. i promise we can sort all this out later, i'll protect you. just please untie me. " he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice.
she shook her head slowly, every back and forth motion indicated her pity and evident disgust.
" oh look now, the pathetic sex-crazed american man wants to be my savior. he wants me to run away with him like this is a fairytale, so we can be together forever and live happily ever after. my hero! are you that stupid, desire? you don't get it, do you? this was never a relationship, it was a transaction. "
before he could respond, she straightened her posture, and stood to her feet once again. her curvy figure towering over him in power on all levels but her dismissive gaze never left his desolated one.
" i'm sure you remember all those nights you told me how love isn't worth the trouble, how you swore every woman was the same, how they only saw you as a status symbol because of your fame. you said they only wanted your money and how different i was but you still lied to me just the same. "
she paused, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes darkening with a knowing look. it was as though his thoughts rushed ten thousand miles a minute, as so much became unknowingly revealed to him.
their once intimate conversations had a special place in his heart, and he had every intention of getting her away from the shallow lifestyle of her career. he knew she was never happy with being a stripper.
he understood what drugs, crime, and sex ultimately led to in the end, but it never crossed his mind that his attempt at bending the truth to protect her would have hurt her like it did.
" you lied, but i wasn't as naïve as you thought. i knew more than i let you believe i did. if you wanna act confused, i'll let you sit with that. as of right now, understand this: i'm a businesswoman here to collect a debt. let's see how much your love is really worth... "
his eyes followed the slight glint of the silver key tied around her neck, the hope for survival reigniting briefly within him. he knew that key was his ticket to freedom from these chains, from this torment, from lagos, if only he could convince her to use it.
she noticed his gaze and a sly smile spread across her lips. she reached up, fingering the key before dangling it in front of his face, letting it swing teasingly just out of his reach.
" you think this is your way out, don't you? " she purred, leaning in close.
" you're not getting away that easy, baby. not when we've finally got you right where we've wanted you for months. "
the realization hit him harder than any physical blow. she had been playing him from the start, and now, she held all the power. defeated, he couldn't speak another word, desperately trying to find a way to turn the situation in his favor, but every avenue seemed to lead back to her.
✷ SCANNING . . ❘❘ ❙❘❚❘❙ : STAY CONNECTED TO THE STORY ! ❜ ℗
STORY NAVIGATION , sol .
ALSO AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD
JOIN THE PRIVATE TEAM BREEZY TUMBLR COMMUNITY
“ Y’all support Chris Brown in 2024? “ 😭 “ Chris Brown is— “ , “ He don’t like— “ , “ I can’t believe y’all— “ , “ Rihanna, Karrueche— “ , “ Chris Brown… “ 😙 stay mad !
maybe chapter one was the friends we made along the way. 😭😭😭 I’ll keep posting Christopher content though, I’m still doing my civil duty.
݃ ⠀🈳 𓃉⠀⠀．. ★ 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙸𝚂 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂𝙻𝙴𝚈 ,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝙻𝙰𝙶𝙾𝚂 , 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙰 — 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 :
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ lowercase intended.
the putrid and thick smell of burning flesh mingled into his labored breaths as his tired, bloodshot red eyes patterned back and forth in the darkness, searching.
searching for a glimpse of light, any signs of life in the cold space of the damp room, an exit he could find, a random object left behind that he could lean down and grab to pick the lock of these chains or something useful.
his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the deafening silence that surrounded him. in it, he could hear the echoes of every memory, every moan, every laugh, that led him to this moment. beaten, bound and chained, on the cusp of death.
even then, akua was still on his mind.
his mind raced with void questions he knew he wasn't likely to get any answers to. things like, was she safe? where did they take her? was she still alive? what seemed to be hours ago, he heard her screams as she was ripped from his grip.
a sudden flashback hit him like a wave. they had been running through the narrow maze of alley ways downtown, as the sound of shouting and gunfire burst behind them. desire turned to see akua's terrified face, her eyes wide with fear.
they almost made it to safety when the men caught up with them, dragging akua away as desire fought desperately to hold on to her. the last thing he saw was her being thrown into a black van before he was knocked out and somewhere along the journey, ended up here.
his fruitless inquiries probed him as he struggled against the rusty uncomfortable chains that bound his arms behind his back. there may have been hope for her; something in his heart refused to believe she didn't make it out without fighting. it could've been the fact that she grew up hard or that she was always street smart and resourceful... but he, on the other hand, was far from safe.
nowhere in the cards did he foresee his flight to lagos all those months ago bringing him to something as sinister and unnerving as this. his intuition was usually right about looming danger and taking precaution of the unfamiliar, but not this time.
this time, his sixth sense failed him. his boundaries dissipated, his moral compass was snatched by her smile. her smell, the way she moved. the taste of her lips, her eyes. her accent, her culture. she held all of his reasoning in the palm of her hands.
he was alone in a room, and the evidence of fear began to settle in. where did he misstep? one minute he was immersed beneath the red strobes of the strip club, his body pressed against the warmth of her beautiful brown skin, and the next, he was tripping over his own two feet. lost, isolated, a wanderer in the world of the unknown.
silently praying for an escape. a blessing, or some relief, to a foreign god. as if answering his plea, the door creaked open, its heavy steel frame moving slowly. this was the first time it had been opened since he was thrown into this hell.
a figure stepped into the room, the blinding light of the world outside casted long, ghoul-like shadows on the graffitied concrete walls. he squinted, trying to make out who was entering. he hadn't caught more than a thirty second glimpse of who captured him before he was out cold. as the figure approached, his heart skipped a beat.
" desire, " the voice was soft, almost tender.
he recognized it immediately. it was akua. relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by his confusion. how did she manage to find him and what had they done to her?
" akua... baby, thank god you okay," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper that croaked from his dry and aching throat.
she stepped closer and closer to him, her face now visible from the door's light, but the look in her eyes wasn't one of concern or fear. her expression was still and she wasn't battered. not so much as a scratch was on her. a visual difference compared to how beat up he was.
she didn't speak as she knelt beside him, her dainty fingers gently tracing the lines of his bruised face. her touch was demure and affectionate as it always was, but it hurt to be touched. his brows drew together as he winced in pain.
something told him that he could hold off on the specifics of asking her what she went through or how did she get away, he was simply happy to see she was alive.
she leaned in, her lips delicately brushing along his jawline, sending a shiver of mixed emotions down his spine. for a brief moment, hope unfurled within him. maybe they would be able to get out in time.
⠀⠀⠀maybe there was still a chance for them to make it.
" do you remember when we met, you told me to use you however i want to? and how you'd do anything for me ? " she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. her voice was a seductive whisper laced with the thick accent of her native tongue and the distinct smell of liquor on her breath.
her collected but eerie demeanor in contrast to his own was telling him more than anything she could've ever said. he was worried, but hesitant. trying to decipher the meaning of her words.
his heart dropped as he struggled to understand where this was going and why she was bringing the past up at a dire time like now. they had bigger things to worry about if they didn't move swiftly.
" of course i do, but why you bringin' this up right now? we should be tryna to get out here... , you been drinkin' ? " he managed to choke out his concerns.
" this isn't a rescue mission... i'm not here to save you from any of this. i'm here to collect on that offer, " she continued, pulling back slightly, her eyes locking with his.
the sudden realization mercilessly sliced through the fragile hope he had clung to for hours in this hellish confinement.
her words were earthshaking, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was shifting. the weight of her betrayal pressed down on his chest, crushing him.
she wasn't here to help him? was this a setup? maybe their love got lost in translation. blurred somehow, somewhere along the lines of their time together over the last few months. he desperately hoped his sense of understanding was faulty and he was simply in a daze, dreaming, hallucinating—anything to make her words not mean what he thought they did.
" i don't know what they did to you in there kua, but please, babe... we can still make it out of here. we can still do everything we talked about. i promise we can sort all this out later, i'll protect you. just please untie me. " he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice.
she shook her head slowly, every back and forth motion indicated her pity and evident disgust.
" oh look now, the pathetic sex-crazed american man wants to be my savior. he wants me to run away with him like this is a fairytale, so we can be together forever and live happily ever after. my hero! are you that stupid, desire? you don't get it, do you? this was never a relationship, it was a transaction. "
before he could respond, she straightened her posture, and stood to her feet once again. her curvy figure towering over him in power on all levels but her dismissive gaze never left his desolated one.
" i'm sure you remember all those nights you told me how love isn't worth the trouble, how you swore every woman was the same, how they only saw you as a status symbol because of your fame. you said they only wanted your money and how different i was but you still lied to me just the same. "
she paused, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes darkening with a knowing look. it was as though his thoughts rushed ten thousand miles a minute, as so much became unknowingly revealed to him.
their once intimate conversations had a special place in his heart, and he had every intention of getting her away from the shallow lifestyle of her career. he knew she was never happy with being a stripper.
he understood what drugs, crime, and sex ultimately led to in the end, but it never crossed his mind that his attempt at bending the truth to protect her would have hurt her like it did.
" you lied, but i wasn't as naïve as you thought. i knew more than i let you believe i did. if you wanna act confused, i'll let you sit with that. as of right now, understand this: i'm a businesswoman here to collect a debt. let's see how much your love is really worth... "
his eyes followed the slight glint of the silver key tied around her neck, the hope for survival reigniting briefly within him. he knew that key was his ticket to freedom from these chains, from this torment, from lagos, if only he could convince her to use it.
she noticed his gaze and a sly smile spread across her lips. she reached up, fingering the key before dangling it in front of his face, letting it swing teasingly just out of his reach.
" you think this is your way out, don't you? " she purred, leaning in close.
" you're not getting away that easy, baby. not when we've finally got you right where we've wanted you for months. "
the realization hit him harder than any physical blow. she had been playing him from the start, and now, she held all the power. defeated, he couldn't speak another word, desperately trying to find a way to turn the situation in his favor, but every avenue seemed to lead back to her.
✷ SCANNING . . ❘❘ ❙❘❚❘❙ : STAY CONNECTED TO THE STORY ! ❜ ℗
STORY NAVIGATION , sol .
ALSO AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD
JOIN THE PRIVATE TEAM BREEZY TUMBLR COMMUNITY
I don’t know. , when you’re deep in your own bubble… some shit just don’t be worth the trouble of coming out of it for any reason.
i think there's a certain nerve-wracking vulnerability that comes with the territory of creating and putting things out there into the world. especially when you do so from a place of authenticity or self-expression. people will " why do you care what others think " you to death-- but it's not just caring about what people think, it's more so, wondering and being concerned that things don't resonate. that the vision won't be seen in a way that it is to you. things hold sentiment and weight. to share that can feel like a certain nakedness. not everyone can do things from the heart and a place of passion. when you are special enough to do so, you have to be okay with the times that it will miss the mark in the eyes of others or won't be valued... how you value it.
devanté’s name being attached to a diddy headline was not on my 2024 bingo card but then again, i ain’t checked for grandma baby in a long time. bless it jesus!
