amadarosewells-blog

[amadarosewells-blog]

ok but if a girl ever like……tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear or traced my collarbone i would die know this

[amadarosewells-blog]

“Nah, actually,” Ama replied, her Brooklyn accent thick when she spoke. Surprisingly, her week had gone alright. For the most part, it consisted of her spending time with her sister and writing; two things she enjoyed quite a lot. She had also worked at the bookstore, but it was a slow week and she hadn't been too busy. “Just a bit tired. Came here to get out of the house.” She shrugged her shoulders, one reaching up to her ear. “Even though most people are usually drunk when I'm here, I swear there's always someone to talk to.” Before she even said the name of the drink she wanted, she shook her head and put her hands out. “You really don't have to do that. It's a nice gesture, but I can pay for myself.”

Deciding that Steven needed a break from work, having designed and redesigned a million versions of what he was building next, he soon found himself at the bar in hopes of relaxing and just sitting at the bar and getting himself something to drink. He didn’t even realize he’d been working too late until he saw the time as he was too engrossed in his own world. As he sat at the bar, cradling his beer, Stephen grinned at the bartender he’d been flirting with for a while now before noticing someone sitting down beside him. “Rough night for you too?” he asked, as more of a way to start a conversation than anything. “Put whatever they’re ordering on me,” he informed the bartender with a friendly smile before turning back to the person.

[amadarosewells-blog]

heatherdayton:

The combination of it being a major throwback and an energetic beat put her in a lively mood, no doubt. “Anytime! I got you,” she half sang. “Though, seriously? It’s a song from the 2000s, so it’s not that new. And it’s an all-time favorite for sure.” Heather continued to do a slight groove in her seat, up until the song came to an end. “Dance music is mighty fine.”

“I'm really surprised I haven't heard it, then,” Ama admitted, eyebrows up as she spoke. The new song was upbeat too, but not as catchy to Ama. “What are your other favorites - y’know, if you don't mind me asking? I feel like people's taste in music says a lot about them.” It was something she picked up on a while back. The type of music a person listened to usually said more about them than what they were willing to admit. And as she thought about this, she sat comfortably, elbows relaxed on the bar.  

[amadarosewells-blog]

Ama could sense that she was being watched; the hairs on her arms were stood up and she felt a prickly sensation throughout her body. She continued her exercising though, her arms stretching down in attempt to touch the ground. She stayed like that before slowly standing up, her eyes catching sight of a woman under a tree who was clearly looking at her. She was going to continue her workout, but her curiosity got the best of her and she walked toward her.

“Hello?” Ama asked, smiling. She knew she should just leave it alone, but she really wanted to know what the other was up to. “I saw you writing...or drawing something down and was curious to know what?” She paused, crinkling her nose. “Which probably sounds weird since you don't know me...but I'm guilty of doing this sort of thing a lot.” Reaching over, Ama rubbed the back of her own neck, somewhat regretting her choice of words.

The weather was nice, nice enough to sit outside anyway. Grabbing her leather jacket and sketchbook the girl quickly grabbed herself a coffee before finding herself settled beneath a tree. People watching always interested her and a new town always made things a little more exciting as she could create her own stories for these people she didn’t know, yet. 

Chewing on the tip of her pen it wasn’t long before somebody caught her eye and inspiration struck. Quickly outlining and sketching as much as she could, slipping into her own little world. It wasn’t until a shadow cast over her and she looked up - realising the person she’d been sketching was stood right in front of her - quickly pulling her sketchbook up to her chest she smiled cheekily. “Hello…” 

[amadarosewells-blog]

Ama savored the sweet, yet crisp, taste of the wine. Her week had been uneventful and a little slow, so it was nice to sit and relax with a friend. There was a lot about Emily that was curious about, and the best way to learn more about her - she thought - was to keep her company for a bit. “It sounds like an ah-mazing life,” Ama responding before closing her head back and soaking up the sun. When she opened her big brown eyes, their focus was on Emily. “Have you ever been to France or Spain? And if so, which is your favorite.” There was an easy smile on Ama’s face as she spike. For work purposes, she had been to both places but didn't get to have much time to explore.

A soft sigh escaped Emily’s lips as she tried a sip of the dark red liquor in her wine glass. She couldn’t even say she’d had a very exhausting day, there were definitely worse, but no one could deny that four hours spent shopping in high heels were a walk in the park. Plus, it was just one of those days. One of those days where she felt annoyed with herself and the world and like she desperately wanted to get out of her skin. Putting the glass of wine down, she rested her chin in her hand and looked sideways at the person next to her. “You know, sometimes I wonder whether I should just leave everything behind and buy like a vineyard in France or Spain or wherever and just professionally drink wine for the rest of my life. That sounds like a great way to spend your life, right? Sun and wine, I couldn’t imagine anything better.”

[amadarosewells-blog]

stephlenox:

Stephanie grinned at Amada’s words. There weren’t lots of times she felt badass of late, and being seen as such even for something so hypothetical felt like a real boost. Of course, the fact that she finally succeeded in flagging down the bartender didn’t hurt either. Steph quietly asked for a glass of water, and took a sip, feeling less out of control and more like she’d simply taken her worries and dumped them in a box someplace far, far away. “I hadn’t thought about the power in having your name known,” she admitted. Fame was a completely foreign concept to Steph, and even in this hypothetical band scenario, she couldn’t quite imagine that her band would be big enough to warrant some kind of star treatment. 

“Oh, wow,” Steph said, impressed. “You’re an author? That’s very very cool.” Steph didn’t read much that wasn’t a science article, but the level of commitment, skill, and luck that combined in having a person become an author was still impressive. “So they didn’t think you’d have a crossover audience or something?” Steph asked, wrinkling her nose. She supposed she understood, but at the same time, if you liked one genre, an author writing in others wasn’t stopping you from enjoying what you liked and leaving the rest.

Ama was the type of person who said what she was thinking 99% of the time. Rarely ever did she really think about what she was going to say before she said it. She just said it, and that usually meant she'd get a good response or someone who was angry with her. Since her comment was more on the fun side, of course she didn't receive any negativity and that made her very happy. “Yeah, honestly our names are powerful on their own. Like, even when we're not here, someone will see our name and remember or wonder who we are.” She looked at the bar for a second, her expression contemplative. “I think that's pretty cool.”

Ama wasn't a shy person at all, but when someone mentioned her career, she had a bad habit of blushing. The fact that she was lucky enough to do what she wanted and was successful at it, was one of those things that made her feel so lucky. “Yes, yes I am. I started in college. My English professor was a little bitch to me, so I wanted to prove her wrong. So I decided to write a book.” Ama shook her head at herself. There was something about spite that always got her going, even when she wasn't necessarily a spiteful person. “Basically. I don't really think it would've mattered, but I guess cause they're different audiences, it would be a big deal.” She huffed out a breath, a piece of loose hair flying up. “But then again, it does make some sense. I don't think people who read stories about sex and romance wanna read books about detectives finding a serial killer.”

[amadarosewells-blog]

penelxpebradley:

“Yeah it’s super useful” she shrugged, picking up her half drunk glass and holding it absently, her gaze focussed on the little dial on the screen as it turned, trying to figure out the difference between background mutter and actual music. She was at that point in the night where multi-tasking had ceased to be possible, and instead it was all she could do to get so much as one thing at a time done. She’d practically forgotten the person, still looking over her shoulder at the app, looking like she’d never seen it before, something which Pen found pretty much impossible. Apps, and indeed most technology, had become second nature to people now, and the idea of someone simply not knowing of basic apps like these was pretty damn alien. Still, who was she to judge, she still didn’t know how to change her wifi password. For a few more seconds she gazed at the app before it came up with the goods and, as she’d predicted: Calvin Harris.

“Oh god, don’t do Tinder, it’s a complete hell scape” she yawned, clicking her phone so the screen darkened and just reflected her own face. Finally she remembered her glass in her hand and took a large sip from it. “Honestly, Tinder’s great if you want a one night stand, but any more than that…” she shuddered, sticking out her tongue as if the mere word ‘Tinder’ was a vile taste on her lips. “Seriously though, it’s no biggie, I’m just surprised there are people in the world who don’t use apps for literally everything”

Ama raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the first time she's heard someone tell her to avoid tinder. On several other occasions, people had told her that it was bad news and not the best way to find dates or romance. Still Ama used it in hopes of finding someone to spend her lonely nights with. “You don't think it's possible to find someone who's interested in more than a one-nighter?” she asked, not necessarily sure if she heard right. “I've managed to find a few people who were. But you're more-or-less right. Everyone seems to be looking for a little fun and nothing else.”

At the mention of apps, Ama smiled glamorously and shrugged with her arms out. “I'm weird when it comes to these things. Like I don't want to be too reliant on technology,” she admitted, clapping her hands on the bar. She realized that she probably came off as a hipster, but that wasn't the intention. “It's awesome that we have it, though. I mean, google is so awesome. I honestly can't live without it.”

[amadarosewells-blog]

averyolivera:

Watching the other lean in made Avery’s smile widen a little, they liked that. It was nice to see mutual interest, even in just a simple conversation about what DJ’s they liked. It was just nice to talk to people that wanted to talk to them, too. “God, honestly? I’m a top 40 slut, I can’t even lie.” They laughed, ducking their eyes briefly, before looking back up at her again. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” It was just a fun thing, to flirt and enjoy themselves, have a nice conversation with a pretty person.

“I mean - I guess it’s just…like, when I tell people how old I am, they get surprised I don’t drink? And I’ve gotten shit for it, so.” They shrugged, nails lightly running over the cool glass in front of them. At her next words, and when she got up and moved, Avery couldn’t help but laugh again, amused at the juxtaposition. “I trust you, no worries,” they said, grinning broadly. “And - yeah. I don’t ever do anything like that, get drunk or whatever, unless I’m home, or with someone I know will take care of me.”

The other’s wording surprised her a little. Not in a bad way. The phrasing was just so random that it knocked her off her game for a small moment. “What’s your favorite song that’s out right now, then?” she asked, wanting to know how good this person’s taste was. They seemed pretty cool, but the music people liked usually said a lot about them; sometimes more than what they had to say. “As you should. But I’m really good at keeping my word.” She shrugged lightly, taking a small drink from her glass.

“People are dumb, so I'm not surprised. You should be able to do whatever you want, as long as you're not hurting anyone.” Her hand bent back to make a statement that that didn't make much sense. Ama did know the feeling in a way, though. Once a few years ago, she attempted to go vegetarian and she received a lot of shit for it from others. “You're the opposite of me. I think I'm too trusting because I like drinking in public places. When I get drunk alone I get sad for some reason. At places like these, even though I stop making sense after a few drinks, are nice because there's always someone to talk to.”

[amadarosewells-blog]

gal_gadot: Stay close to your roots 🌿

[amadarosewells-blog]

isobelcpez:

“I’m the same way,” Isobel admitted since she was never good with songs, especially when it came to titles and to album names. If anything, she could remember some words or lines of the song and that was usually enough to get people to recognize the song. “Do you have spotify because I think that’s been a life saver for me.”

“I have spotify,” Ama beamed, proud of herself for using a popular app for once in her life. She wasn't the greatest at keeping up with app and site trends, because she mostly didn't care for them. From time to time she would update her instagram and twitter, but that was mostly to keep her publicist happy and not because she wanted to. “Does it find songs for you if you know the lyrics?” She was genuinely curious since she used the app a lot.

[amadarosewells-blog]

annabelxw:

               For all of a split second, Annabel looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She should know better by now, the way she talked, hyperbolic and laced with a playful well-meaning disingenuity. Her smile became immediately rather genuinely apologetic, “Well, to be fair, i’ve never actually heard it from any source other than my own inward train of thought.” A somewhat hesitant chuckle parted her lightly glossed lips. “I’m best to not take very seriously most of the time,” most especially when it wasn’t related to her work. It was a personality quirk that took some getting used to. “Oh, that’s more than okay. In fact, I insist on you keeping the money. Consider it my donation to the Ama inspiration foundation.” Annabel added a light-of-heart wink, and let her gaze shift to the cup. “How do you take your coffee?” 

“Your train of thought could be onto something, though? Like, sometimes, if I’m stuck, I’ll eat leftover cookies or poptarts and get the urge to write.” Ama shrugged while she thought about it. She was sure there was probably another explanation for it. Something that had more scientific value. She liked Annabell’s idea though and didn't really need any proof that it was actually the truth. “You're an angel. I'll pay for you next time, then. Or, I'll bring you some homemade coffee on a day you least expect it.” While she spoke, she had been rummaging through her bag. But since Annabell said she'd pay, she set it back on the empty chair beside her. “I like Cuban coffee with french vanilla cream and four packets of sugar.” Ama hoped her order wasn't complicated. Secretly, she judged those who had ridiculous coffee orders.

[amadarosewells-blog]

bxlymxwll:

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with a good cartoon! They are very feel good”, she urged without much thought. But when Bexley did realize just what she said, a blush crept over her cheeks. “I mean, cartoon are getting more mature anyway. Most movies are just trying to when an award anymore, instead of telling a story. And now everything is just being remade or is a sequel”, it was a rant Bexley never had a problem going on, missing the simplicity of movies. Going to the theater, midnight premiers, all of that experience was wasted in the age of streaming. 

Ama loved cartoons and their stories. She thought there was something uplifting about them - something safe - that made them so appealing to both children and adults. The one they had watched in particular was a bit sad in the end but lucky for her, it ended with a surprise happy ending that made her heart soar. “You're right. They're usually trying to appeal to both younger and older audiences.’ She began to walk after saying that, wanting to refill her popcorn before they left. “Do you feel the same way about cartoons on television? They don't seem to have an award goal, but they're pretty cute and have complex stories,” Ama replied, recalling all the cartoons she would watch when she was feeling down.

[amadarosewells-blog]

stephlenox:

“I didn’t know there was anyone with that name, ever,” Stephanie replied. “I mean, it sounds like a nickname and not an actual full complete name, you know?” All the joking went out of her in an instant. She sighed, feeling guilty for the jokes they’d been making. Maybe he wasn’t a small child any more, but it was his name, and no matter how odd or funny it sounded to you, there was something almost sacred in a person’s name. Something deserving of respect. Especially because this person was right, and young Tigo B had probably been teased a great deal for being named Monty. There should be a law against weird names, Steph thought absently. She had been fortunate in that department, but not everyone was. And not everyone became a musician and took a stage name, or maybe even changed their name, because that name, however odd, was part of their identity. “Names are a funny thing,” she said quietly. Not particularly insightful or poignant, but all she could manage at the moment.

Her gloom lifted just as quickly as it had arrived — the flipside of names being tied to identity was feeling as though a compliment on your name was a compliment to you, even though in most cases, a person had no say in their own name. Stephanie was no exception, and she beamed at her companion, a pleased flush spreading across her cheeks. It didn’t hurt that her name was an entirely positive reminder of her parents when so many others were bittersweet. “It’s nice to meet you, Amada,” she replied, taking careful care to pronounce the name correctly. “Hm, okay. I don’t do any of those, but if I was a singer, I guess maybe I’d want to use a band name. So I could still be me, but not?” Her eyebrows shot up at Amada’s words. “Wait, what did you write that you needed a fake name for?

The need to drink a little more consumed Ama. Her goal wasn't to feel drunk, but she did want to feel a little lighter. Her week had been a little rocky and drinking a smidge to relax sounded like the best way to recuperate after it. It helped that she had good company to talk to, as well. If she were on her own, she probably would have been a little somber, opposed to feeling as good as she did now. “Fair enough. I think that's pretty badass of you. Like, people will know your name and that has a lot of power in it,” Ama responded before finally taking a long drink from her glass. It was a little sour, so she crinkled her nose.

“Soooo...I usually write romance novels and my publisher thought it would be a good idea to use a pseudonym when I decided to write in the crime genre.” Ama spoke like it was obvious, even though it wasn't and really didn't make sense to her. “Apparently, if I didn't it would confuse people?” She furrowed in her brows then rubbed at her neck. It was then that she noticed that she felt a lighter, as intended, and made the effort to take another sip of her drink.

[amadarosewells-blog]

nctalielewis:

          Natalie’s lips naturally curled into a smile. “You sound exactly like me,” she admitted with a laugh. Music was one of her biggest escapes and it wasn’t unusual for a lot of the songs to get trapped in her head for days at a time. That was when you found her blurting out the lyrics in the car or the shower or, to her chagrin, the toiletry aisle at the grocery store. Nat couldn’t even count how many times she’d been caught in the act somewhere between the bottles of shampoo and hand soap— sometimes even while using one of her purchases as a makeshift microphone. Remembering the look on a customers face when her impromptu karaoke caught them off guard she felt her cheeks grow warm. It was easy enough to blame in on the alcohol, though, when she took another sip of the drink in her hand. “I’ve had quite a few one woman dance parties to it in my bedroom, actually.” Sensing a potential friend for the night she took a step closer and grinned. “I’m Natalie, by the way. Might as well share my name if I’m gonna share all my secrets, too.”

“Same here. My sister's actually walked in on me a few times - usually when I'm dancing in front of a mirror.” Ama let out a small chuckle, recalling the incidents. They were usually on days where she was home alone and assumed her sister was working a late shift. The rare other times were on days where she wanted her older sister to join in. As soon as the woman introduced herself, Ama stopped thinking of her sister and raised her glass cheerfully. “Nice to meet you, Natalie. I'm Amada.” She took a quick sip of her drink, her face souring from it's strong taste. “Everyone tends to call me Ama, though.”

[amadarosewells-blog]

samantha-hart:

“That makes sense,” Sam replied with a brief nod. She kind of had the same thing with her name, as most of the time when people close to her were mad or something like that, they’d call her by her full name. “Most people call me Sam, actually. My older brother used to call me Sammy when we were younger, but that never really stuck – I think it just didn’t fit me that well,” Sam’s shoulder went up and down in a short shrug, though her lips formed a soft smile at the memory. “So, are you from around here?” Around here being Wilmington, of course. Her tone held a certain curiosity, though it was mainly because she just wanted to get to know the people around a little better.

“Yeah, you don’t look like a Sammy to me. Samantha suits you,” Ama admitted. In the past, she had met several Sammy’s and they usually looked reserved and shy. Just from Samantha’s few words, Ama didn’t see her as either or. In her mind, a Sammy wouldn’t have joined her at the table and would not have said a word. She was just about to say something about that, but then another topic popped up. “Nope. I’m from Brooklyn.” Which was far from Wilmington and practically an entirely different planet. “I moved here a while back in order to live with my sister. We’re very close and I couldn’t stand living so far away from her.”  

[amadarosewells-blog]

                              Naomi mentally scolded herself for not knowing the name of a song that was played once or twice in her very own music room at her place of work, instead clicking her tongue to make a few ‘tsking’ noises to herself. “Wow, and I’m supposed to call myself a music teacher. I’m just going to blame the fact that I’ve got that Fleetwood Mac song stuck in my head I heard on the radio earlier.” Naomi laughed, twisting her body to face the stranger once more and give her the full attention they deserved. “Really? That’s awesome. At least she’s got a good range, and I can appreciate that. My Mama sort of was… stuck in her ways, and had her own genres and stuck with that.”

Music teachers were pretty cool. When Ama was in middle school she had a music teacher who was a lot of fun. The woman would use random objects as instruments and played games with her class. It was nice moment in Ama’s life, so whenever she thought of music teachers, she thought of her. “Which one? Up until recently, I had no idea who they were,” Ama replied honestly. She thought it was a shame that she just discovered them, but she was glad she did. They were a great band to listen to and timeless.  “What were her genres - if you don’t mind me asking? I had an aunt like that. She strictly listened to golden oldies. If you even dared to put on anything else, she would gripe about it.” The thought of her aunt made her smile softly. She was a good woman, but she was so stubborn. 

[amadarosewells-blog]

isaiah-de:

“Really? I mean, they say ‘stir fry’ like a thousand times in the song,” he laughed. Maybe it was because he knew the title already that it felt obvious. But he thought it was pretty easy to guess as well. “Usually whatever work or phrase they say over and over again, usually in the chorus, that’s gonna be the title of the song,” he shared, figuring maybe that little tidbit might get her to remember song titles for the future. Though in the long run, it probably didn’t matter. If he wasn’t there to answer, she probably could’ve easily used some phone app to find the title. 

Zay continued moving around to the beat of the song, not really focusing on exactly what he was doing. He rarely did when it came to dancing, especially when he’s already gotten drink into his system. He laughed when made fun of her own dance moves. “Yea? Like one of these?” He asked, taking a step back before he started to wave his arms around wildly, trying to imitate the inflatable, dancing tubes. “Get enough alcohol in me and that’s the only move I know,” he joked back. There were plenty of people at clubs who danced like a crazy person, with no rhythm in their body or soul but they were having fun. And Zay always thought that’s what mattered. The ones who took it too seriously or didn’t even try to dance at all, they were the awful ones, 

Ama shook her head and laughed, her hand covering her mouth as she did. “You’re right. I should’ve known, it’s pretty obvious now that you’ve pointed it out,” she nearly hollered over the music. It was nice of him not to mock her for not immediately knowing the song’s name when it kept repeating itself throughout the song. A lot of people would’ve been rude about it, or told her to look it up herself. “I’m going to keep that in mind from now on. That’s really good advice”

The music switched to another song, catching her off guard for a moment. The song was just as catchy and had a beat that made her want to get up and dance with this kind stranger. “Exactly like one of those,” she chuckled, her head tilting back. When she picked it back up again, there was still a huge grin on her face that said she was having a good time. “You made it look good, though. I think if you did it front of everyone it could potentially become a new dance craze.” Both of her eyebrows raised at this. “If you don’t believe that that’s how I dance, I could totally show you right now.” Although her drink was settled on the bar, she hopped off the barstool.