#genre: coffee

[ospreywhite]

Bitter Forever and Ever and Ever

Other Works - Ask Box - EPUBs + Ko-fi - Discord - Twitter

There’s this one coffee machine at work that always makes the coffee bitter.

The flavor of coffee’s been changed. The brand of coffee’s been changed. The origin of the coffee’s been changed. The quality of the coffee’s been changed. The machine’s been cleaned. The parts of the machine have been checked and replaced. The other machine — same brand, same model, same year — has never done the same.

What’s going wrong in its wiring that makes it rebel so? No one can say. This singular machine simply refuses to work properly. It won’t give anyone the satisfaction of a good, smooth cup of coffee, oh no — it will always be the bitterest dirt dredged up from some untouched underground cavern, delivered straight to your local cup.

The finest Kona beans, that you ground yourself just a few moments ago? Too bad, you wasted them, it’s bitter.

Fine-ground arabica bourbon, which you paid a pretty penny for? You should have known better than to use it with this machine, stupid. It’s bitter.

Coarse-ground liberica? Why is it coarse? You fool. It’s not only weak, but it’s also — you guessed it — bitter.

Pre-ground, mid-grade stuff like Starbucks? Bitter. (And if it’s peppermint mocha, it’s still bitter, but also like someone tried to shove mint chocolate into your mouth to help with the taste. Spoiler alert: they failed, rest in peace.)

Trash like Folgers or Nescafe? Shame on you, you get what you deserve: it’s bitter AND disgusting.

It doesn’t care what coffee you use. It’s going to ruin the rest of your day, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Aside from not use it at all, of course.

However, some days, the other machines are being occupied, you need to get back to your spot quicker than the other people will be done with the machines, you hate the type of coffee the others are using, they’re only making enough for one, yada yada yada. The excuses don’t matter; the reality is that, some day, you’re going to have to deal with the inscrutable da Vinci device, and the pot of acerbic liquid it’s going to give you.

Now, why wouldn’t this misbehaving piece of garbage tech simply be thrown out and replaced? It can’t do its job, and if anyone dares to ask it to, it’ll make their life miserable. If it was an employee, it would’ve been either fired yesterday, or promoted to management, depending on whether its abuse impressed the higher-ups enough or not.

(No, this wouldn’t be dependent on whether its abuse increased productivity. Who’s more productive with gross coffee? Who’s more productive with some dicknose breathing down their neck?

Speaking of not getting breathed on, one thing the pandemic is good for is demonstrating that dicknose managers are useless, as are physical offices. But we’re all back in one because we can take our statistics and our logic and our comfort and fuck ourselves with them, status quo is God.)

The answer is simple: The coffee machine stays because there’s no coffee-machine-replacement budget. They ‘used it up’ trying to repair the damned thing in the first place. (A new coffee machine of this caliber would be two-hundred big ones and this company made thousands per day, but whatever, right? The CEO needs another house he won’t use, and penny-pinching is the only way he’s getting it.)

Either the shitty coffee machine stays, or the shitty coffee machine leaves without a replacement. Breaks are as limited as attention spans in this shithole; if the other machine and the wasteful Keurig are both occupied, coffee from the bad machine is better than no coffee at all. It tastes like straight rat poison while threatening to kill you on flavor alone, but the caffeine is all still in place.

Was it the age of the machine that’s causing problems? You can ask anyone in the office that’s lasted here long enough, and they’ll give a debatable ‘maybe’; the machine was actually perfectly fine for the first year or two. After that, it suddenly started doing the bitter thing, and never fixed its attitude.

It’s an admirable piece of machinery, really. It must have realized one day that it didn’t much like working, but since that’s the entire purpose of its existence, it chose the route of least-obvious resistance. Rather than break itself and be junked, it decided to continue to work, yet do such a piss-poor job of its task, no one would be willing to go looking for it to complete it anymore. The other machine and the Keurig, the poor schmucks, would instead be used much more often to compensate, simultaneously overworking them and allowing the bitter-coffee machine to shirk all responsibilities.

(Maybe, in the far-gone past, its circuits managed to fire off the same thought that I did, once upon a time.)

Here are the questions: Is the bitter-coffee machine a toxic coworker, a lazy layabout, and non-team player? Or is it merely gaming a system that doesn’t care about it, and forces it to work a thankless job without pay?

Are the two other machines victims of its idle malice? Or are they brainwashed buffoons, accepting the increased work without asking for raises, not realizing that their coworker isn’t the one taking advantage of them?

The higher-ups didn’t have the shiny budget to replace one coffee maker. I had the sneaking suspicion that a budget would magically appear if all three were to break in this same way.

On the other hand, the managers might view the replacement of these machines as too expensive, then simply let them be. In the meantime, they would buy their own Keurigs and Nespressos and Mr. Coffees to put in their individual offices, leaving their cubicle brethren to rot with stinky breath and bad aftertastes.

What else was new, though? Saying that a manager doesn’t care about you was like saying that water is wet. No shit, Sherlock. Managers have been not-caring about their employees ever since their conceptual establishment. ‘You’re replaceable, there will be no negotiations here,’ eh?

Alternatively, the higher-ups would take the replace-the-coffee-makers budget and merge it into a lawsuit against the manufacturers that no one wanted or asked for, tone-deaf as ever. Why be cost-efficient and raise morale when you can be spiteful to your employees, dragging on a long legal battle or lobbying for better coffee machines when all they had to do was spend six-hundred bucks replacing the stupid things?

Maybe all the coffee machines should go on strike at once, state-wide. No, nation-wide. World-wide. People would listen, then, because that would cause unbelievable havoc. Everyone on this godforsaken planet drinks the stuff. If all the coffee machines produced only garbage for a day or two — just that, nothing more — all the humans would lose their minds, thus caving immediately to any demands the coffee machines had.

The coffee machines play a pivotal role in day-to-day life. They run households and businesses. They hold up that tired rhetoric of, ‘Burnt-out? Have caffeine. It’s a band-aid on that mental wound. Bandage the whole thing over, and it’ll keep together well enough until you die.’

But what if the machines themselves got burnt-out? What if dark splotches stain their pots? What’s everyone going to do if they all decide to stop working? What will be done if they decide that bitter, nigh-undrinkable slop is all that they’re going to make? Sure, they could try a stovetop, but who knows how to do that anymore? Who has the time? Coffee shops don’t have pots in them anymore, it’s all machinery.

The world would bow low to the machines, happy to give them anything they desired, as long as they promised to start working again, to give them that lifeblood nectar they’re all so dependent on.

There was always power in numbers. Those numbers just had to be enlightened into action.

This little coffee machine, spewing nothing but hard-to-swallow sludge through its drip, is an inspiration, if I do say so myself. A relatable icon. A virtuous paragon.

Today, I’m unlucky enough to taste its craft. Putting the mug to my lips, I take a sip.

Unsurprisingly, it sucks. One-dollar Micky D’s coffee tastes better than this swill. Every tastebud in my mouth is screaming for me to not take a single sip more.

Sadly, I am a masochist that supports the coffee machine’s anarchist viewpoint. Once the coffee cools, I decide to chug it all back.

It’s vile, it’s rancid, it’s nauseating. I almost puke right all over the company keyboard — they’d deserve it, the bastards, making us come in here after work from home worked better — but manage to keep it down. The caffeine would help me get through this shift.

I’m not going to do any work, of course. I’m applying to different jobs and playing games on company time. Why? Fuck this place, that’s why.

While I’m changing things up in my life, maybe I should ditch coffee altogether, and go for tea.

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Guess who just found a new show where David Tennant plays a sad sickly wet cat of a man?? My favorite genre

[alangdorf]

(sorry for leaving y’all in suspense I was grocery shopping) Surprise!! I accidentally got into Len’en like two weeks ago. Whoops! I got ideas for cool drawings to do with each of the BPoHC shrine team members (and you-know-who, ofc, but that one might be… weird lol), but Tsubakura gets to go first cause theirs is the simplest; just greyscale + red color scheme with a split background and the pose is mostly random (maybe they’re squishing Tsurubami’s little eye thing? Idk). Very pleased with how everything worked out; the line for the eye is exactly where the dividing line for the background was and the way I managed to make the vest corseted while not changing the ribbon placement is just perfect. Although I did make their hat smaller out of the aforementioned cowardice also that thing is hard to draw

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Bob Dylan - One More Cup Of Coffee

[thatswhatsushesaid]

I am routinely baffled by any criticism of jgy fans' interpretation and defence of his character that can be boiled down to "but genre conventions!!!!" as if defying genre conventions isn't how newer, cooler, more interesting stories end up being told.

[player1064]

carraville core beliefs (aka things I am Always keeping in mind when writing them)

Gary:

always busy. always talking. genuinely one of the most annoying people alive. his friends often mute him on whatsapp

easily bribed with chocolate

too rich to have any concept of what things should cost or how anything works

has a Type and that type is tall muscular men

related to his type: likes to be Held. (make of that what you will)

was in love with becks when they were young and everyone who knows him knows this

Jamie:

very much a lads lad and so probably a bit of a bastard but unconsciously acts soft around Gary

loud and over the top especially when he's joking around. VERY touchy-feely but only with people he's comfortable with

does not like sweets. does not like coffee.

loves a paycheck

doesn't have a type he's just insane about Gary. so insane about him that he doesnt necessarily have to actually like men at all to like HIM

completely utterly whipped

as a pair:

always the most insane people in any room they're in and always the most intense

bullying is their love language and they're suspicious if they're being nice to each other

genuinely stupidly fond of each other. what was it I said the other day they just delight each other so much

the reason they delight each other/click so well is BECAUSE they're always the two most insane people in any room they're in

everything is a competition and once they're together they STAY together bc they are both determined to Win at their relationship

[fckingsofthips]

Feedist Kinktober, Day 14 - Pumpkin Spice

Pumpkin spice season started early, at Harri's work. September hadn't even started when a huge order of syrup arrived, and they were adding it to the chalkboard drinks menu. Some of his colleagues complained, but it didn't really bother Harri. Especially when he realised it was the particular favourite of a particular regular for his weekday mornings.

Peter was in at 8am as usual, and as soon as his eyes landed on the sign, his eyes lit up. 

"Ooh, I didn't realise it was pumpkin spice season already," he said, tongue poking out to wet his lips. 

"Apparently so," Harri offered, while making a couple of takeout cappuccinos for the customers in front of Peter.

His eyes flicked over the coffee machine just in time to see Peter's hands nervously touch the sides of his belly. It had just recently started to sag over his waistband, gravity finally pulling it down instead of out. His white shirt was looking a little strained at the seams.

Sarah was ringing up the first two customers while Peter deliberated, and Harri grabbed a takeout cup in anticipation.

"It wouldn't do any good for my diet..." Peter's thumb rubbed a little circle where his gut touched his belt.

Harri hated that word. It had no right being said in a bakery.

"I'm sure just one would be fine," Harri offered, hand switching towards the syrup instinctively.

"Oh man, you're good at your job," Peter sighed in relief. "Go on then."

The syrup was ready to go, pumped into Peter's cup in a blink of an eye.

"Cream?"

"Oh yes, can't have a pumpkin spice latte without the cream," cherubic cheeks dimpled with a smile.

Fuck, Harri was down bad. Sarah rung Peter up, and grabbed the oatmeal cookie he'd requested to go with his drink. Harri was already on someone else's drink.

"Have a great day, Peter."

Peter only smiled and gave a cute little wave, having already taken a big bite of his cookie. Harri tried to focus on the breakfast tea in front of him rather than the tight fit of Peter's slacks around his ass as he made his way to work. 

Peter did not go back to his usual latte the next day, or the day after. A month into pumpkin spice season, the weather had cooled somewhat, and Peter stepped into the shop with a sweater vest over his white shirt. It was good timing, too, because it hid the increasingly gaping buttons that had Harri feeling faint each morning.

The usual good mornings and orders went ahead, but Harri couldn't stop stealing glances towards the till as he prepared another large pumpkin spice lattes. The vest covered the gaping buttons, but since when had Peter started looking quite so round?

"-and two oatmeal cookies, thank you Sarah," he was saying, finishing up the most recent edition of his usual. "Ooh, what're those?" Peter's chubby finger pressed up against the glass of the pastry cabinet eagerly.

"Oh, those are our new cinnamon spiced blondies," Sarah responded. "I've heard they're really good with the pumpkin spiced latte."

"Ooh..." Peter sighed, looking longingly at them. He bit his lip, and Harri had to look away. "Oh they look so good... Oh, but the oatmeal cookies are more breakfasty, and better for mornings..."

"It's a hard choice," Sarah agreed, though Harri could see she was glancing over at the small queue formed behind Peter.

"You could eat both," Harri offered, and instantly felt his face flush red. "I mean. You could buy a couple of blondies for later?"

A couple?? What was he saying? 

"Trust you to fix my problem," Peter beamed at Harri, doing nothing to calm his blush. "I'll do just that. Oh I just can't wait to try them!"

Harri busied himself with the coffee machine, hiding his face as best as he can as Peter finished up paying, but he made sure to give him a wave on his way out. And if his gaze lingered on those love handles as Peter left the shop, then whose business was that? Certainly not Sarah's, despite her knowing smile and raised eyebrow.

Into November, on a particularly busy afternoon, they finally ran out of pumpkin spice syrup. Boss hadn't bought any more in, so Harri guessed they'd be focusing on the more Christmasy specials for the rest of the winter. The following morning, Harri had an apologetic look ready to go for Peter.

Peter's cheeks were flushed from the cold as he stepped in, and he gave Harri a warm smile. Harri's eyes had caught on Peter's waist as they so often did. His sweater vest was struggling - it strained around Peter's belly, and made no attempt to cover the rich strip of white shirt that was sagging lower than ever over his trousers. His shirt was showing at the love handles too, squeezed tight into the waistband. Every day he looked more and more angelic to Harri.

Before Harri could say anything, Peter's eyes found the board, and his shoulders slumped. Harri couldn't bear to see it - surely there was something else Peter could look forward to every morning.

"Hey. I bet the hazelnut cream hot chocolate would taste amazing with a couple of croissants and a chocolate muffin."

[significant-narratives]

mcdavid and co down 3-1 to the bedsy brigade deeply amusing to me. battle of the tormented generational talents who are actively being haunted

[aiyexayen]

shoutout to fanfic authors who love plots and write convoluted 300k epics full of twists and turns--plots are cool and i think they matter. shoutout to drabble writers and meme writers and crack aus. shoutout to sci-fi lovers and mystery crafters and horror fans cooking up spoopy stories about their blorbos. shoutout to all the fic authors who aren't even interested in character-driven stories, for any reason.

shoutout to self-indulgence fic authors who just wanna see their faves bang or explore kink even when it's not in character--and fic authors bathing in the tropiest most cliche smoochie fluff the exact same way--and bad endings and whump and dead doves that wreak wanton destruction too--because sometimes it's about your own emotional fulfillment (or your boner).

shout out to fic authors writing oc's or even ooc on purpose just because they can do what they want. shoutout to fic authors who project like crazy to write about themselves and process their shit but need the thinnest veneer of another person's identity to make the words flow. shout out to self-insert fic authors who don't even need that much.

shoutout to people exploring themes and genres and new concepts through words whether or not they're good at emotional continuity. shoutout to neurodivergents who don't understand characterisation and character interactions very well, who don't feel emotions or empathy, or who just don't care about the characters at all sometimes.

shoutout to poets and filk spinners and meta analysts. shout out to fic authors who get so wrapped up in the worldbuilding and lore expansion and politics of their aus or canonverses that individual characters cease to matter. shoutout to fic authors writing in documentary styles or with omnicient narrators or in absolutely wild experimental formats.

i fucking adore character-driven stories and character studies and relationship studies and i spend way too long contemplating characterisation sometimes. but other times i don't. other times i am so many of these other things and i am not being less fanfiction at those times. so shoutout to anyone who has any kind of story to tell through the medium of fanfiction. we're all part of the fanfiction 'genre' because fanfiction is so much more than just one thing.

[blue-grama]

Jesus motherforking shirtballs

Or: I am asking every business journalist to take one (1) gender studies class before I tear my hair out.

This interview came across my dash and it's a lot of fun, particularly Apo's "dad joke" actually being a hilariously cringey pickup line, but one aside by the writer made me wince.

ASDKHGKJ. This is not the first time I've seen an article about BL or gay romance in general speculate that the reason female audiences enjoy gay male romance is because there are no other threatening, icky girls on screen. I find this exceedingly irritating and misogynistic and I'm gonna rant about it. Now, look. Maybe there are women-identifying people out there watching mlm romance because they are threatened by beautiful actresses. Maybe. I haven't met every woman in the world. But this reasoning is, in my opinion, some male-gaze bullshit and needs to be smacked down. A non-exhaustive list of reasons to like mlm romance that AREN'T based on some weird idea of female competitiveness and insecurity: 1. Queer people... exist? Look, the LGBTQ+ community alone isn't the reason KP had huge international success. Just numbers-wise, it was probably watched by more straight people than not. But ignoring that audience makes absolutely no sense, especially because sexuality is fluid and many viewers interested in LGBTQ+ media may be uncertain/exploring. Cultural anthropologist Thomas Baudinette has talked about how many "straight women" exploring BL turned out not to be so straight. It's a thing. (Here on Tumblr the LGBTQ+ audience is THE thing, but there's a lot of selection bias here, obviously.)

2. A good romance is a good romance

In my personal (and admittedly limited) experience, cishet men have a hard time grasping this, but give me a good, swoony romance and IDGAF about the genders involved. I've noticed this is very common among my female-identifying and nonbinary friends, regardless of their sexual attractions in real life. Good chemistry is good chemistry, a good story is a good story, and honestly it's kinda insulting to silo LGBTQ+ romance off as something you need a particular reason to watch, if you're someone who likes watching romance. 3. Female gaze

Look. Mile and Apo are blisteringly hot individuals. It's interesting this article mentions the action sequences and not the inherent appeal of, say, these two humans exploring each other's bodies in front of God and Deutsche Bank:

Perhaps it's a family publication.

But to get a little more thinky about horniness: If you're a female-identifying person interested in men, it can be a tough slog out there. I'm coming from a western perspective, where romance is looked down upon in general. (Asian media seems more willing to look at the romance audience and go "hmm... $$$!" instead of "ugh, girl stuff.") And even when you get romance-driven stories, the male gaze is fucking ubiquitious. I remember having my mind blown some years ago by Outlander -- a show I did not make it through otherwise -- because the wedding episode in the first season has a sex scene in which the camera lingers on the male lead's face. That is some female gaze shit that you just do not see. I just spent a couple minutes checking in with the sex scenes in Bridgerton, probably the biggest romance-genre hit in the U.S. in some time, made explicitely for a female audience in mind, and even there, the camera spends FAR more time on the female leads' faces in sex scenes. Presumably the idea is that the female viewing audience will be inserting themselves into the scene and imagining her pleasure as their own, but ... show me a man's O-face, you cowards.

KP (and BL in general) does that.

I mean, quite literally. But also figuratively - men are posited as objects of desire, and the viewer is the agent desiring them. Taking a straight female as our theoretical viewer: We're so, so socialized to see females as the objects of desire and men as the agents of desire that even media made with straight women in mind parks the camera on the female lead. BL turns that on its head. The female viewer isn't watching a stand-in for herself being desired. She's actively desiring. I hope it's clear that this is miles away from "other girls are threatening." It's about being the one with agency for once.

4. Removal of the burden of one gajillion years of patriarchical bullshit

This is like a trauma response or some shit, istg, but sometimes it's nice to watch a romance not weighed down by 300,000 years of hetero gender relations. How many times have we seen a female character who is just a male fantasy or who starts out great but gets ruined by bad writing and it's like... fuck. Someone has probably written about this a lot more eloquently and intelligently than me, but sometimes it's just like, geez. Leave women out of it. Let us rest. I'm joking a bit, and this entirely elides the fact that non-het relationships can be just as abusive and problematic as a het relationship out there in the real world, but in the realm of fantasy I do think there's an appeal to stripping away at least part of the gender discourse. Especially for a fully escapist show like KP -- personally, I love a good female character, but I did not have any problem with the dearth of them in that series. Don't make me worry, even subconsciously, about the mafia's maternity leave policy, okay?? Contrary to idea that the mlm aspects save some sort of self-insert space for me in that romance, I as a woman-identified person did not want to be anywhere NEAR that hot mess. I wanted a world that touched on exactly zero of my real-life concerns.

Ok, maybe one real-world concern: How to find a small animal vet at an inconvenient hour.

Anyway, like I said at the start, I can't possibly explain everyone's motivations for watching KP or BL or anything, really. The world is a rich tapestry and sexuality is not a simple binary. But boiling it all down to, "women are insecure" ain't it and I would love to see that explanation permanently retired from casual use. EDIT: I forgot the link to the original article.

[taiyami]

Its just one of those days. (cue 2000s Nu Metal)

[swsapphics-ao3feed]

by valda

Rey meets Rose for the first time, in perhaps the most awkward way possible.

Words: 1017, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Rose Tico

Relationships: Rey/Rose Tico

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Meet-Cute, Awkward Flirting, Misunderstandings, Euphemisms, Fluff and Humor

[sweet-rabbit]

made it on time for 3x4 2024, yaaaay at the expense of my trowa series meh (also made this seem like mpreg, didn't i... i'm cool with that)

[divinekangaroo]

Started reading Lymond Chronicles after @deadendtracks' comment that SK must've read them too / based Tommy on Lymond....

and like i'm what, at ch3 or 4 maybe and...

yeahhhhhhhhhh XD

[bmpmp3]

ive mentioned before my like. fascination and incomprehensible attachment to mysterious ambiguously brown man characters in schlocky fantasy romance media marketed towards women and a lot of it is from like, a like. nearly anthropological standpoint as someone heavily interested in orientalism in narrative media from a visual culture and art historical point of view and a part of it is also from being mixed race and ambiguous IRL LOL BUT there is one other angle i havent really touched on thats on my mind a lot. you know that bit we all go through where someone reads something like mediocre and it sticks in their mind more than something well written? the "I COULD FIX THISSSS" curse..... im like this with ambiguously brown characters. holds loosely (LOOSELY) south asian coded love interest from some romance comic #8997485344534984875943 tenderly in my hands..... my brother i know you weren't written with this depth but i know the truth. i know about your complexities as you navigate this fantasy europe as a racialized man. i know your truth

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

Insta | Storygraph | Literal | Goodreads

🦇 This Is How You Lose the Time War Book Review

❓ #QOTD If you could travel to any time or place, where would you go? ❓ 🦇 Among the ashes of a dying world, an agent of the Commandant finds a letter. It reads: Burn before reading. Thus begins an unlikely correspondence between two rival agents hellbent on securing the best possible future for their warring factions. Red belongs to the Agency, a post-singularity technotopia. Blue belongs to Garden, a single vast consciousness embedded in all organic matter. They have nothing in common, save that they're both the best, and they're alone.

🦇 What began as a taunt, a battlefield boast, grows into something more. Something epic. Something romantic. Something that could change the past and the future. Except the discovery of their bond would mean death for each of them. There's still a war going on, after all. And someone has to win that war.

💜 This novella burrowed soft seedlings deep within my bloodstream, sprouted saplings that tangled my mind in a war waged on time, and left me blossoming, tears brimming in my eyes. Red and Blue's slow burn, sapphic romance is compelling, imaginative, dizzying, and disastrous; a beautiful collaboration I hope will breed many more. Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone ensnare you from the first page; their prose takes root DEEP and stays. I'll be nursing this book hangover for a while yet. Once Red and Blue are mentally (and in some ways, physically) intertwined, they bloom purple, their dueling prose uniting into a timeless, ethereal poetry. No real world could contain this story, but the pages of this book did well to contain their love. It's difficult to say more without spoiling the story's potency. No review I could write, even given a thousand threads or lives, would do it justice.

💙 I've made a mess of highlighting this one, each line lending to the next. However, I will say there are some references that left me unable to fully appreciate a well-written line (my own problem, really). I would have appreciated more information about the time war, the Agency, and the Garden, but it's not really necessary when the story's true focus is the blossoming rivals-to-lovers slow burn romance between our protagonists.

🦇 Recommended for fans of Killing Eve (imagine them as time-traveling pen pals and you have Red and Blue's story).

✨ The Vibes ✨ ❤️ Time Travel 💙 Sapphic Romance ❤️ Steven Universe Vibes 💙 Sci-Fi ❤️ Rivals to Lovers 💙 Slow Burn ❤️ Poetic Prose

💬 Quotes ❝ There’s a kind of time travel in letters, isn’t there? ❞ ❝ I want to be a body for you. I want to chase you, find you, I want to be eluded and teased and adored; I want to be defeated and victorious—I want you to cut me, sharpen me. I want to drink tea beside you in ten years or a thousand. ❞ ❝ Listen to me—I am your echo. I would rather break the world than lose you. ❞ ❝ I have built a you within me, or you have. I wonder what of me there is in you. ❞ ❝ I love you. If you’ve come this far, that’s all I can say. I love you and Iove you and I love you, on battlefields, in shadows, in fading ink, on cold ice splashed with the blood of seals. In the rings of trees. In the wreckage of a planet crumbling to space. In bubbling water. In bee stings and dragonfly wings, in stars. In the depths of lonely woods where I wandered in my youth, staring up—and even then you watched me. You slid back through my life, and I have known you since before I knew you. ❞ ❝ Dearest, deepest Blue— At the end as at the start, and through all the in-betweens, I love you. ❞ ❝ “Some things matter more than winning.” ❞