#like someone really lonely and longing for human warmth and connection

[gorkaya-trava]

staying alive just because humanity still doesn't know much about gender sexuality autism and artificial intelligence and there are new mind-boggling researches coming in the next ten years at least

[forsworned]

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head. 

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood.  From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference. 

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path. 

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation. 

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.  

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him. 

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection. 

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone. 

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch. 

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks. 

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing. 

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you. 

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps. 

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his. 

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it. 

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way.  He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky. 

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep. 

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking. 

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?” 

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face. 

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair. 

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip. 

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you. 

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine. 

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts. 

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.” 

--

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance. 

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months. 

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good. 

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way. 

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body. 

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts. 

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that. 

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can. 

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him. 

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough. 

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows. 

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy. 

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach. 

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you? 

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified. 

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away. 

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

[lolahauri]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Payment ♡

Ship: Mr. Kitty (Backrooms)/Reader

Type: F/M, Smut, One Shot.

Contains: 2.2k Words, Tendrils, Monster Fucking, Telepathy, Transactional Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Masturbation, Tendril Sucking, Size Kink, Nipple Play, Slenderman-Like Mr. Kitty, He Gets Pleasure From His Tendril Hands, Rick & Morty References, Canon Divergence, Porn With Plot.

Event: Kinktober/Monstober, Day 2.

Summary: You didn't bring Mr. Kitty a cute gift? Well he isn't gonna let you stay here for free! Looks like you'll have to use another form of payment.

~

Imagine being stuck traveling through the backrooms and constantly getting put into threatening and lonely levels.

You're dehydrated, starving, and exhausted from running. Not to mention you haven't seen another form of life in days. But your luck turns around when you fall asleep and find yourself waking up in a real bed for once.

At first you can't believe it, you think you've finally landed back in your own room. But as you wake up more you realize that isn't the case. "Still better than anywhere else I've been." you think to yourself as you rub your eyes.

Sitting up and looking around now, you notice the room is clean and cutely decorated. It really seems like someone lives here. "Did I clip into somebody else's room? Maybe I can get back home from here." You wonder, standing up from the bed and beginning to look around.

As you peek into each room, you're able to confirm that no other humans live here. There's no windows at all and no doors that lead outside for somebody to enter.

But strangely enough, the entire home is also fully furnished, decorated, and cleaned spotless. There's even water and electricity here!

You decide to take advantage of the supplies and resources around you, not knowing when you'll have this opportunity again.

You first find the laundry room and strip out of your dirty clothes, putting them in the wash and then taking a fresh towel from the cupboard above.

Heading into the bathroom, you look around and find a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner. It smells amazing and looks brand new. When you step into the shower and turn on the hot water, you feel all of your problems melt away in an instant. This has to be a dream, it's way too good to be true.

After taking your sweet time in the shower, you wrap yourself up in the soft towel and switch your clothes over to the dryer. Time to check the kitchen for some real food. You haven't eaten in two days.

And just as luck would have it, the fridge and pantry are packed full of snacks and leftovers.

The fridge has some pizza, rice, pasta, and various fresh fruits and veggies. You take what you find most appealing and move to the cabinets. There's a wide assortment of crackers, cookies, and chips that you're eager to dig in to.

After grabbing all the food and beverages you can carry you make way to the small living room, curious about the tv.

"I wonder if it really works? But how would it get connection here?"

You sit down and grab the remote, switching on the tv and immediately getting hit with a strange ad.

"I'm Ants-In-My-Eyes Johnson! Here at Ants-In-My-Eyes Johnson's Electronics!"

"Ew, God! He actually has ants in his eyes, what the fuck is this?"

You skip to another channel before you lose your appetite, landing on a tv show called "The Adventures of Stealy".

"Is that some kind of alien? He looks way too real to be CGI. I guess I'm really not on earth right now..."

After you've eaten your fill, you return to the kitchen to wash your dishes and dispose of any garbage. It's only a few minutes later you hear the dryer go off. Finally, clean clothes.

You quickly discard of your damp towel and change into your leggings and hoodie. You stand and relish in the warmth for a moment before making your way back to the couch.

There's nothing else to do but watch more TV, your phone had already broke a long time ago from the constant dropping.

You flip through channels once again, this time choosing a cartoon called... Gazorpazorpfield? At least it's something kind of familiar...

After a few episodes and some more snacks, you start to feel drowsy again. You hadn't even been awake that long, but after over a week of fighting for your life in various backroom levels, you aren't surprised that you're still tired.

You make your way back to the bedroom you woke up in, pulling off your clothes until you're in nothing but your bra and panties. As you crawl under the covers, you practically melt into the soft bedding beneath you, feeling more warm and comfortable than you probably ever have.

But just as you feel sleep begin to gently pull you in, a harsh static sound fills your ears, making you feel light-headed and dizzy until it stops.

You look up and are met with the sight of a tall black figure standing at the side of the bed. You shriek and sit up right away, covering your chest with the blanket. The male-like figure has no mouth or eyes, but you can feel him looking at you as he speaks.

"My apologies, I wasn't aware there were travelers here. Or, is it just you?" His voice is deep and smooth. He must be talking through some kind of telepathy.

"Can he read my mind too?"

"Yes, I am able to read your thoughts." He says as soon as you ask the question in your head. Oh, that's embarrassing.

You aren't really sure of what to say, so you settle with "Sorry, um, it's just me. Is this your house? I didn't mean to come here, I just kind of... woke up here." you look away with embarrassment.

"I know, It's not a problem at all. Nobody comes here by choice, my home is just a haven for those stuck between realities like yourself."

"Oh, right..." you're looking up at him now "So, would it be okay if I stayed here at least another night?"

"Of course, you are free to stay as long as you need. So long as you brought a gift, that is." Your stomach sank. A gift? How were supposed to know to do that? Shit, what's going to happen if you don't give him one?

He interrupted your panic suddenly, "You didn't bring anything?" You shook your head slowly, heart beating a little faster.

"Hm. Strange, there must've been a mix up. Humans are only supposed to appear here if they have a trinket or toy with them. I'm afraid without proper payment, I'll have to send you on your way."

Your eyes widen when you start to hear static building up, your body feeling light like you're about to shift to another room again. In a desperate panic, you resort to the only thing you think could convince the man.

"Wait!" You yell out, reaching your hand out to grab onto his arm, "Please wait! I can... pay you in another way?"

The noise dissipates and your body feels solid again. He hesitates before speaking. "And what would that be?" He sounds genuinely confused.

"Um... you know..." You remove the blanket from your body and let it rest on the bed, exposing your barely clothed figure for him to see.

"..."

"I see... You wish to pay with your body, is that right?"

"Uhm, would you accept that?" You ask, sounding pitiful.

He thinks for a moment, "I would."

You nod your head, taking the initiative to start removing your bra, letting it drop to the floor. You then move back further onto the bed, slipping out of your panties and leaning back onto your hands, spreading your legs for him.

You look up at him, waiting for him to make the first advancement. He hums and moves to hover over you, his tendril arms brushing against your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat when his cold, slippery skin moves against yours, tendrils slowly creeping their way up your calves and heading to your thighs.

You gasp when he wraps his arms around your thighs, giving them a light squeeze. For a lonely creature living between realities, he seems to really know what he's doing.

His tendrils carefully unwrap themselves from your thighs and move to explore the rest of your body. One seems to take a special interest in your drippy cunt, while the other slithers up to your chest.

He experimentally runs the tip of his tendril up your folds, watching as your back arches into his touch. He enjoys your reaction, feeling himself become aroused as well. His tendrils feel hot as he continues to wet his tip in your slick cunt, the other arm wrapping itself around your tits.

He gives them a light squeeze before playing with one of your nipples, taking note of the whine that slipped past your lips. "Does this feel good for you as well?"

You bite your lip and nod, looking up at him.

"Where else feels good to you? Tell me where to move." He sounds gentle but stern, still running his tendril up and down your folds, unintentionally teasing you.

Your sentence is broken up by little moans and heavy breaths, but you try and tell him what to do next. "Here," you gently grab his arm, "rub my clit, right here."

He feels around for a moment, assuming he's found the right spot when you moan louder. He rubs your throbbing clit in tight circular motions. You lay back onto the bed and enjoy it, arms feeling tired from keeping yourself propped up until now.

Lying on your back and looking up at him, you can't help but notice how big he is. He's on his knees on the floor and he still manages to tower over you. It honestly turns you on even more.

His tendrils are pretty big too, you wonder if you could fit them inside...

Even if he wasn't reading your mind right now, he would've had the same thought. He's been with other monsters, and other members of his species, but never a human. He's so fascinated by the wetness between your legs, and that pretty mouth of yours that makes such lovely noises for him.

He finds himself desperate to know how it'd feel to be inside of you. As he continues to toy with your clit, he moves his other tendril away from your tits, slowly inching it towards your mouth. He brushes the tip over your parted lips and admires how soft they are.

You get the hint quickly, opening your mouth more and sticking your tongue out for him. He slowly inches his tendril into your soft mouth, shuddering at how wet and hot it is. He fits as much as he can inside before it becomes too much for you, almost five inches. You wrap your lips tightly around him and bob your head lightly.

He's completely obsessed with how it feels, he's never done anything like this before. Now he has to know what your other hole feels like.

Kitty removes his slippery tip from your clit and moves it downwards, pressing it into your tight cunt. You moan around his other tendril at the intrusion, tightening around him and arching your back.

His breathing becomes heavier as he pushes himself deep inside, stretching you out as far as he could. Your eyes roll back slightly at the deliciously painful stretch, feeling more full than you ever have before.

He gently thrusts his tendril in and out, the tip of it finding that sweet spongy spot inside you. He presses on it firmly, immediately noticing how much tighter you got around him afterwards. You moan around his other tendril when he repeats the action, clenching around him.

You swirl your tongue around him and bob your head faster when you feel yourself gradually approaching your orgasm, trying to make him cum with you.

He fucks into you a little faster, feeling a euphoric sensation building up inside him, his tendrils pulsating inside you, feeling hot and tingly.

You're both a mess at this point, but he feels himself losing control first, unable to hold back anymore. Your soft mouth sucking him off and your tight cunt squeezing down on him makes him crazy.

His tendrils begin to wildly twitch and pulse, making you scream as they stretched you to your limit. Starting at the tip of his arms and traveling up to the rest of his body, a burst of white hot pleasure ran through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

His arms start to tremble, signaling overstimulation. He reluctantly pulls away from you, leaving you panting beneath him. You feel tired, wet, and sore now. But you're not totally satisfied yet.

You move a shaky hand down to your clit, rubbing it as fast as you could, so desperate to cum next. It doesn't take long for you to finish. The excitement of him watching you play with yourself combined with the already built up pleasure from being fucked leaves you cumming in less than a minute.

Your legs shake when it hits you, but you try to ride out your orgasm as long as you can. You're quick to become overwhelmed and exhausted though, unable to continue much longer.

As you lay there and process what just happened, he's already bidding you farewell and thanking you for the experience, soon vanishing into thin air. You decide it's time to get some rest again, knowing you're going to be feeling the soreness from this for days to come.

It's worth it in the end though, at least you have a safe place to stay until you figure out what to do next.

[tinytinyblogs]

Monster

While others may perceive him as a monster, in your eyes, he is anything but.

(Mentioned self-loathing, stranger to lover, gender-neutral) 2,1K words

A narrative drawn from inspiration found on Pinterest.

Ateez masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

The world saw San as a stormy cloud, like a large creature in human form making loud noises. His uniqueness, deeply ingrained in him, was like a red mark on his soul. Instead of being curious, people were scared of him. He is a destroyer; everything he touches ends up broken or injured. His name was rarely spoken, like a forbidden sound in the normal places. He was naturally isolated, surrounded by whispers and avoided looks. Every time he tried to touch someone, it ended in disaster, leaving behind only pain. The laughter he wanted to hear was like a song in his dreams, unfamiliar in the regular world. His heart, wanting warmth, stayed in the cold shadow of being rejected. Every morning reminded him of his lonely existence, and every laugh mocked his silent cries. The world seemed to have created a lonely prison for him, and its key was made from a distorted view. As bitterness grew, San felt a change in the ground beneath him. Whispers turned into screams, and avoided looks turned into full-blown terror. He, who was pushed away, started pushing others away. His pain, fueled by the world's negativity, started fighting back, a desperate plea for acknowledgment and connection, even if it meant creating it through the fires of fear.

The monster in him believed that nobody on earth could be kind to him. His heart was like a closed garden with no space for the difficulties of human interaction. And then there was you—a spark in the lonely landscape of his life. Your eyes, without the usual flinch or disgust, seemed like windows to a world he thought he could never access. When you bent down to pick up his red scarf, a gift from a long-gone mother, your voice, a soothing touch to his troubled soul, broke the silence. "You dropped this," you whispered, the words carrying a melody he'd never heard before. Hesitantly, he reached for it, his eyes meeting yours once again. There was no sign of fear or disgust, just a gentle curiosity. Surely, you knew. You must have. Whispers followed him like crows, a dark group casting shadows on his soul. Yet, there you were, untouched by fear, offering a connection like a bridge across a deep gap. The red scarf, once a symbol of his isolation, now became a delicate lifeline—a glimmer of hope in the overwhelming darkness. Could it be? Could someone truly see beyond the scary exterior and catch a glimpse of the boy he might be? The question lingered in the air, a silent plea resonating between your gazes.

The monster in him, a twisted snake of fear and distrust, showed itself. You, with clear eyes and a kind voice, bravely peeked beneath the damaged mask he wore. A tiny bit of hope grew in his empty heart, but old hurts quickly killed it. He thought, maybe, your innocence was fake, and your kind look just a passing fancy. He couldn't let himself believe in such a cruel trick. The lonely street, covered in swirling snow, matched the emptiness inside him. The freezing cold got through his worn-out coat, but it was the isolating loneliness that really made him numb. Every gust of wind reminded him of his solitude, an unwanted friend in the quiet. Then, a bit of warmth broke through the darkness. A careful tap on his shoulder, a whisper in the icy air. Surprised, he turned to see you standing there, a steady light in the snowy darkness. Your closeness woke up his senses, but your gaze stayed calm, as pure as the first snow. Stuck in your eyes, a captive of your comforting presence, he felt drawn to a part of himself he hadn't explored before. This vulnerability, this dependence, made him feel uncomfortable yet strangely comforted, leaving him angry at himself.

The monster in him woke up, confused. You, offering kindness like he had never experienced. Your hesitant smile appeared as you pulled out a paper bag from under your coat, holding it like a precious ember against the winter cold. With a gentle push, you placed it in front of him, silently inviting him to share. San, cautious but curious, looked inside. In the bag, like a small sun warming the chilly air, was a bread shaped like a fish, its golden crust still carrying the warmth of the oven. Yet, it wasn't just the warmth of the bread that surprised him. As he cautiously broke off a piece and tasted it, a different kind of warmth spread through him, thawing the corners of his long-cold heart. The simple act, the unspoken understanding in your eyes, sparked a glimmer of hope he hadn't dared to nurture. He enjoyed the bread, each bite a small rebellion against the loneliness he had worn like a second skin. The taste – sweet, yeasty, with a hint of the sea – turned into a connection, a song playing just for him. In that moment, the scary part loosened its grip on him, and a crack appeared in the icy fortress he had built around himself. It's cozy, but it's not because of that fish-shaped bread – it's because of you.

The monster in him roared, a basic clash against something he didn't know. You, a guiding light in the chaotic landscape of his life, showed a kindness so real, so different from the harsh treatment he was used to, that it stirred up his very soul. Was this warmth you were giving real, or just another cruel illusion in the emptiness of his existence? Doubt and questions messed with his mind like hungry rats. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the cautious stares of the people around, fear evident as they moved away from the monster they thought he was. But in the midst of his contemplation, a glimmer of hope appeared. It was the image of you, stepping out of the store like sunshine breaking through heavy clouds. He braced himself for the expected – your eyes turning away, quickly passing him, silently confirming his outsider status. However, you looked into his eyes, and everything around him paused. A smile, a real and bright smile, spread across your face, like a flower blooming in the desolation of his lonely world. He stood still, unable to believe it. Never before in his memories had he seen such a sight.

The monster in him backed away, like a quiet puppy retreating after a surprising encounter. He couldn't believe what was happening. You, like an angel in a world full of troubles, were walking towards him, a bright smile on your face. The whispers from the people around, like a mean song, stopped when you showed up, and their fear faded away in the face of your constant kindness. He stood still, stuck in the whirlwind of you coming closer. The city sounds turned into a dull noise, and all he could focus on was you. When you stopped, like a heavenly being in the busy marketplace, the air was filled with unspoken questions. Your hand, like an offering from another world, held a simple candy, a symbol of something much bigger. "Do you want some?" your voice, a melody he never thought he'd hear, floated in the air. His world, full of shadows, couldn't possibly fit someone like you. He was the scary one people talked about in quiet voices, the one kids hid from, the one fear kept away. But there you were, a real embodiment of hope, offering him a sweet treat dipped in kindness. It's sweet, but it's not because of the candy – it's because of you.

The monster in him once like a growling storm cloud, had now become a quiet shadow. However, doubt still stuck around, like a fog hanging onto the edges of his thoughts. Was it real, the warmth and kindness you shared, like a sprinkle of care on his lonely life? He really wanted it – the feeling of sunlight, a sense of belonging. He wanted to believe in you, in the chance you brought, like a fragile bridge connecting his solitude to the rest of the world. So, he began to notice you everywhere. Not actually everywhere, but in sounds like your laughter or in the sunlight like your smile. He took a risk and started talking to you, cautiously at first, like opening a rusty lock, scared that it might make noise. But with each moment he stole with you, each word he shared, the rust started to loosen, and the door to his heart opened a bit wider. Listening to your voice, the stories you told with laughter and vulnerability, made him feel alive again. He wasn't just the scary one people talked about in quiet voices, the shadowy thing. You saw him, really saw him, not with fear but with a kind curiosity that melted the frost around his heart. And in return, he found the forgotten joy of smiles hiding in the corners of his own lips.

The monster in him started moving, a dark feeling of fear twisting in his stomach. The idea of you, the light he wanted the most, turning away and leaving him in never-ending darkness - it was a terror too deep to describe. The silence between you felt like a big gap he really wanted to fill, but he didn't know how. He couldn't take the heavy quiet, so he spoke up, his voice rough with hidden pain. "I'm a monster," he said, the words feeling like a sharp blade cutting through his throat. Your reply, simple but deep, hung in the air, like a rope thrown across the gap. "No, you're not," you said, your voice filled with gentle confidence. He raised his voice, saying, "I am," his eyes teary, letting out emotions he had kept inside for a long time. "I've always been different; people always avoid me. I destroy everything; I hurt people. Are you still pretending you don't know?" he exclaimed, without a hint of a smile, while you sat next to him, watching his inner struggle. "I don't care," you answered calmly. This wasn't news to you; warnings about him had reached you when you first came to town, but you never let those warnings change your view. After expressing your lack of concern, he went quiet, stood up from the bench, and started walking away. "San," you called after him, and he stopped without turning to look at you. "You've never been a monster in my eyes," you reassured him.

It was the monster within him, wanting you like a dry desert wants rain. Even though he tried to keep away, staying alone, your image stayed in his mind like a ghost that wouldn't leave. So, the scary part gave in, leading him to your door without a plan. With hesitation, his hand touched your door, knocking gently. You answered right away, warm and welcoming. There you were, looking beautiful in your soft clothes, a smile on your face like a sunrise. Without saying anything, you moved aside, inviting him in without words. In that moment, under your kind eyes, the scary part inside him did more than want – it felt a strong desire for you. He stepped inside, like a hesitant traveler entering a special place. Your scent, familiar and comforting, wrapped around him like a gentle hug. The scary part, so used to darkness, blinked in the soft light of your presence. You guided him in, offering not judgment but a safe place. And the scary part, for the first time ever, felt a bit of hope, a chance for redemption, just because you let him in. "I'm sorry for taking it out on you," he whispered, and you replied with a soft sound. "No need to apologize, San. Not at all."

And suddenly, the monster in him fall silent as he rest his head on your lap. his head nestled in your lap, a haven of warmth and comfort. Your fingers combed through his hair, each touch a silent symphony of tenderness. He inhaled the scent of you, a balm to his troubled soul. "Can I stay like this?" he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. "Can I keep feeling this… this sunlit warmth from you? Can I just be with you… always?" His hand found yours, resting it gently on your knee, anchoring him to this precious moment. He yearned to bottle it, to preserve it against the inevitable tides of time. "I don't need anyone else," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Only you." A soft smile curved your lips. "Then stay," you breathed, pulling him closer. "Stay here with me, san. You're safe here." In your eyes, he saw not a monster, but a reflection of the man he could be. You treated him with respect, with an understanding that pierced through the layers of darkness he'd worn for so long. And perhaps, under your gentle touch, the beast within him was finally learning to recede, replaced by the flicker of a hopeful future. The monster in him has vanished as he found his home, it's no more.

©Tinytinyblogs

[mistressarcane13]

The Development of Durgetash

Sorry this is really long but the implications of Durge and Gortash's relationship are just too fun not to think or write about.

I think an important thing to understand about Enver and Durge’s relationship and the way in which it would develop, is that they are both inherently lonely people. One killed any person who gave them warmth and love (whether they had any real say in the matter or not), and the other was someone who as been abandoned and betrayed repeatedly by people they trusted. Either way, Durge has only been able to experience the warmth of another through violence, and Enver has only ever been able to put trust in things of metal and gears.

They could not make a real human connection, and as sad as it is at the very least the Durge had a family who had once cared about them, however, Bhaal made it very clear that they would never have that all outside of what he could offer, and if they were to search for it outside of Bhaal or even stumble upon it, all it could ever end in is blood. Enver on the other hand had no foundation of trust with anyone from the beginning, his parents sold him. Then the entry of his youth was spent being abused, beat into submission. Where his developing mind could only ever come to one conclusion, you are only safe at the top, only safe when you are the person who can hand out all of the damage. While it doesn’t excuse anything either of them did, it does give you a way as to how they can internally justify all of their horrible actions.

But then apply all that to how the beginning of their partnership began, both probably intending to manipulate and betray each other at some point, at least in the very beginning. Then what is probably the most terrifying thing happens to both of them, they realize they care. Dare I say I think it takes them both a long time to realize this, both desperately telling themselves that “this was just a part of the plan” in an attempt to distract what has happened.

The one thing I am sure they had both promised themselves they would never do again. I do think Enver had an easier time coming to terms with this, especially after Bane also seems to take a liking to Durge. But there was most likely some catalase in which Durge had an amazing opportunity to kill or betray Enver and yet stubbornly stays by his side. However, Durge lives in constant terror. When will the urge take control, when will Bhaal demand Gortash’s head as a sacrifice? Why does every thought they have that lingers a little too long on Enver turn into a design of his death, and why has this begun to bug them. They had thought they had finally desensitized themselves to this, and yet here they were with this weight in their heart that made it hard to breathe. They haven’t experienced terror like this since the urges first started. And I think, unlike Enver, this fear never goes away. It’s obvious because of the letter but I think they learn how to manage it.

Once they get past that, this is where their friendship really blooms. Two evil nerds, geeking out all the time. Gortash can go on for hours, days, months about his inventions, and there is Durge who hasn’t had a conversation verging this close to normal in so long that they just sit there, happy. Asking questions, and seeing how smart Durge is canon-wise, most likely offer suggestions and theorizing how certain mechanics work. Then there is Durge who has had to turn violence into a craft for survival and likely some form of sanity. Who can probably go on for just as long about anatomy, decay, how every weapon, acid, fire, and anything of the like affects the flesh.

Then somewhere along the line, where they worked together out of convenience, they are now the other persons go to for anything. They are asking each other for advice in contexts where it doesn’t necessarily make sense. And there scheming turns into just conversations of the future. They don’t even notice how casual they have gotten with one another until I’m sure Orin or Sceletius points it out to Durge.

If we apply all this to Durgtash, it does make their prospective relationship the most grueling slowburn anyone as ever seen, in theory.

I don’t think either of them notice at first their feeling for one another. I think they are both pretty emotionally constipated. However, I think Gortash realizes first, I think he distrusts not only everyone around him but also his own feelings to realize something is off. Where as Durge (this I guess depends on how you characterize your own personal durge, but for now I’m talking about og and my own Durge.) I believe has numbed themselves so emotionally it is not going to hit them. Or at least not until Enver suggests something stupid and they fight. Durge has a knife to Enver’s throat (which I don’t imagine is a rare event) and for once they aren’t immediately consumed of thoughts of spilling his blood right there. No, the knife is there to stop Enver from doing something stupid, because Durge is WORRIED. The realization hits like a brick, and Durge in way out of character backs off and leaves. Hoping to stuff the realization back in the box where it could be stored in the back of their mind, but it’s too late. Now all they can think about is how Bhaal will torture them both by having them kill Enver.

This obviously leads to tension, so much tension, that neither of them will address or acknowledge. Both are worried about offending their gods, and at the end of the day, this is the first person either of them have been able to truly care about in who knows how long. Not only could they ruin that, but also the plan that they have been working away at for presumably years now.

I think it only builds of course, the closer they get the more small touches they exchange. Never too close though, never too many. Just enough for minds to slip to other places, only for a second. Though they would never actually… right? They get drunk together just to have a reason, have an excuse for certain behaviors, never taking it too far but minds always wonder.

I honestly don’t think anything would happen for a long while, not until some catalyst. Whether it be a bad injury or a victory, adrenaline takes over, and they kiss. Heat of the moment they will tell themselves and each other. However, the Pandora's box is open now. I think it still takes them a moment to break, anywhere from a day to a week, both too horribly stubborn for their own good. Until the conversation lulls to a stop, and the tension alone at this point would turn anyone mad, and the delusions they have been trying to sell themselves finally snap. No one knows who kissed the other first, who first started ripping at clothes, at this point who cares. It is a passion with teeth and claws, there is blood on their teeth and under their nails. In that moment all their sins mix, gluttony, greed, pride, and lust as they almost try to consume one another, like they are trying to meddle together. As if metal and flesh could ever truly mix.

And I think for a time after, these two horrible messed up people find peace in one another, maybe even true happiness as their plans come to fruition. Enver Gortash, a man who breathed life into metal gave it a heart, and Durge, the person who left cold bodies in their wake by taking last breaths and heartbeats.

They were going to rule the world together, and then Orin happened.

[hwnglx]

hi, would san from ateez be okay with ldr? thank you

haven't read for him in a good minute, but i remember liking his energy.

9oc, 5osw, 5ocrx, lo, knoc, paosw, quoc

hm, see for san it's difficult, because if they're the person of his dreams, like all he's ever wanted, he wouldn't let long distance stand in the way of their love. he's such a passionate boyfriend (to an extent delusionally in love) he wouldn't wanna allow physical distance to be an obstacle.

however, he can also get obsessed with his lovers. like i'm talking, you're all that i see, you're all that i wanna see, let's not care about anyone else and forget about them, you're the only one i want around. he seems to be someone who actively seeks and is in need of human connection, and can often find himself searching for someone to attach himself to, because he can feel lonely by himself. the most precious existence in his life (his love) not being next to him could cause a certain emptiness, and a lack of emotional connection he craves so much. he wants to have quality time in intimate settings, deep late night talks, look them in their eyes and feel their emotion directly. there's a different sort of warmth that comes with someone's presence, that's something he'd miss.

he's someone who really values communicating with his partners. he likes building this emotional and intense bond through sharing their worries and thoughts with each other. he wants to zone in on them, literally have tunnel vision and openly showcase his obsession, but also loves the thought of his partner being equally as passionate. long distance would make him worry and trigger his overthinking. he'd overanalyze their texts, or tone of voice through the phone. stare at his phone for hours waiting for their message. his lover being far away could trigger san's trust issues.

so in conclusion, san isn't very fond of the idea, but if he's head over heels in love, long distance wouldn't make him wanna give up on them. he'd probably have you flown in all the time, or find some sort of way to have you with him no matter the risks. he just wants you next to him, period.

[phxntomhives]

"The parade of battlers" analysis

SINCE NO ONE IS DOING THIS??? WHY??? I WILL DO IT

Hopefully my wrong takes will trigger someone and you all will get a decent analysis

Eng lyrics because I don't know japanese are from the official music video! Also warning, English isn't my mother tongue.

Lost in an unacceptable tragedy

An unfading warmth quivers blue in the depth of my eyes

Stifling impurities leave keloid scars and

Even now, still mourn for days gone by, never to come back

Staking my life, spitting blood and vomit

All I want to do is lead a beautiful life

But why can't you hear

Me telling you not to stumble

Love turning on its head, fiction caught in a tangle

Say bye bye to mundane concepts

See how the compensated formless stand imposingly

Their presence is a sight to behold

Rip apart, drag and reveal

Throw away all inferiorities

Even the raw emotions of cursing someone

Take them in like an offering

Just skilled at pretending to be human

Searching for those other than monsters

Like the blue shimmer of

A star of the first magnitude

Far from having enough faith

This utterly ridiculous destiny won't retreat

Fill the air with the echo of the marching boots

Let the parade of the lonely ones begin now

Everything in this world, there isn't much

Difference between the atrocious or noble as you think

Somewhere up in the sky, someone is making selections

To ensure the cycle of birth and passing is upheld

Though we have prayed and knelt down

Our prayers have been cremated

And ignored with a "So what?"

So kind

A colorless encounter, pupils of glass

Thought they may shatter to pieces,

You laugh your head off, saying, "you must be kidding"

You give the finger as you spew poison and let it all out

Scorched, boiling and trembling

A blazing fire from the past still smolders

That remorse still within me

I'll burn and retaliate in full

There is no such thing as eternity, so

There is no ending until all turns to ash

Then why not play

With fire in a refined manner?

No more need for empty rhetorics

Such hollow, scathing criticism

Burn this ceaseless stone-throwing

The parade of the lonely ones has just begun

There's no love, no love, there's no love there

There's nothing, there's nothing, there's no truth

There's just one, just one

In this world, just one person, one person

Question fanatically and

Live the shit out of this world

ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE THIS BITCH IS LONG

ALSO MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA!!!

Yana, dear, are you sure this is the intro for the Weston college arc??? And not the blue cult??? LIKE, REALLY REALLY SURE??? My comprehension of text can be lacking in more than one way and I just followed the vibe but... I don't think I am that wrong on some points? You are seeing it too, right?

I feel like the song has a mix of present, past and future along with different POVs and I hope I have been able to separate them well.

The colors are just to show the lyrics and i changed it because pretty.

What I can actually connect to Weston Arc

"Then why not play with fire in a refined manner? / No more need for empty rhetorics Such hollow, scathing criticism. / Burn this ceaseless stone-throwing" Which could very much be related to O!Ciel's pyromaniac episode lol. He didn't forget

"The parade of the lonely ones has just begun" : at this point the "parade of the lonely" could very much be the parade of the bizzare dolls considering the amount of reference there is to them. And it would be nice considering in this case the sentence is right after the stone-throwing Purple house, since the students were "transfered" in the there.

If the previous point is correct then also here, we are talking of the bizzare dolls: "This utterly ridiculous destiny won't retreat / Fill the air with the echo of the marching boots / Let the parade of the lonely ones begin now". I guess the "echo of the marching boots" could be the sound the dolls made before getting free during the midnight tea party? As for why they don't retreat well, we have seen they aren't exactly rational for now.

"Scorched, boiling and trembling / A blazing fire from the past still smolders / That remorse still within me /I'll burn and retaliate in full": this could be a description of what O!Ciel is feeling in general. His determination coming from everything that happened is still going strong.

Onestly, these are the only thing I can see strictly related to the present and this arc in particular lol. Everything else goes deeper.

Memories of the past

This part will likely make the least sense, because I am still sobbing over the whole past ok.

"Lost in an unacceptable tragedy Even now, still mourn for days gone by, never to come back": We all know the past. The safest bet is that O!Ciel is mourning, but is he? He never had the time to mourn, he moved immediately to revenge and working for the queen. So either this is just to hit us in the feeling, or maybe it's my favourite victim of this analysis: Undertaker. Could it be him? Possibly, but this being O!Ciel breaks my heart more. I am excluing R!Ciel because at the moment of Weston arc his version should not be that complex. And Sebastian is Sebastian.

"Staking my life, spitting blood and vomit /All I want to do is lead a beautiful life / But why can't you hear / Me telling you not to stumble": I feel like this either O!Ciel talking to himself, admitting that he would like to just be happy but still forcing himself to be strong and act to revenge his family. Or, high on copium, the first part is O!Ciel's wishes and the second part is O!CIel using the R!Ciel allucination make himself stronger (I doubt it, but it adds to the sadness).

"Rip apart, drag and reveal / Throw away all inferiorities /Even the raw emotions of cursing someone /Take them in like an offering": I got the epiphany after several times of reading this and yes it's about revenge hatred yadda yadda yadda. But what if, in particular, it's related to the moment when O!Ciel summoned Sebastian? I think it's the only time I remember "offering" being mentioned/relevant in the manga. O!Ciel is throwing everything away for revenge, assuming a new identity. So this could be either O!Ciel talking to himself during that desperate time. Or, just to hurt myself more, him allucinating again a conversation with R!Ciel where R!Ciel is the one that is saying all this. I will go cry now, brb.

"Everything in this world, there isn't much /Difference between the atrocious or noble as you think / Though we have prayed and knelt down / Our prayers have been cremated /And ignored with a "So what?" " : God, this section is killing me. Memories of when the twins were captured, For them and all the other children, it was an atrocious experience, while the nobles were truly thinking they were in the right, that there was nothing wrong in what they were doing. They believed to be noble enough to be above everything and ignored absolutely everything in regards to the children.

Undertarker is not being subtle. Like at all.

Somewhere up in the sky, someone is making selections/To ensure the cycle of birth and passing is upheld: here I am conflicted. Undertaker is sure making selections when he is creating the bizzare dolls "you get to be revived. you don't". But at the same time he is not uphelding anything. He is doing the opposite infact. Unless this is supposed to just describe the Shinigami's role to show how Undertaker is going in the opposite direction.

There's just one, just one/In this world, just one person, one person/Question fanatically and/Live the shit out of this world: we only really see two characters question stuff: O!Ciel with the murder of his family and Undertaker with the Cinematic record ways of working. Now, i don't really see O!Ciel "question fanatically" and "live the shit out of this world", while we can debate about how "fanatically" he is searching for the culprits, how are you telling me he is living his best life? He is surronded by trauma, has to go on a mission for the queen every other day, has to live as his dead twin and in this specific arc he has to act all cutesy and adorable when he hates it. He is far from any best life I am more surprised he didn't become histerical yet honestly. The one that IS living his best life is Undertaker (well... more or less). In the Weston Arc he did say he was enjoying being the headmaster. Plus he could make some more esperiments on Derek&co which, on top of that, were mostly successful! Do you know how much serotonin a succesful experiment gives you? A LOT. TRUST ME.

Bizzare Dolls (BD for short because I am lazy)

Well, ofc they are the protagonist of the animation, they are everywhere in the song too.

"An unfading warmth quivers blue in the depth of my eyes / Stifling impurities leave keloid scars and": Are the BD warm? Idk, but I don't think so? A body is warm when the blood is running because the heart is pumping it. Do BD have a working heart tho? I doubt the original version do, but what about the new and improved versions? Agares could have probably be our best bet but he always wore gloves (even when he was alive) so we don't really know.

Warmth aside, what I am quite confident IS a reference to the BD is the keloid scars. I did a reseach and a keloid scar is a "scar keeps growing and becomes bigger than the original wound. They are developed after a skin injury". The scars we have seen are O!Ciel's scar from when they marked him, or the BD's "surgery" scars?

Ofc it could be just metaphorical about the trauma just keep on growing in O!Ciel. Maybe it's more this one but again, I am take things directly

"Love turning on its head, fiction caught in a tangle/Say bye bye to mundane concepts/See how the compensated formless stand imposingly/Their presence is a sight to behold": cambridge dictionary say that "turn something on its head means to cause something to be the opposite of what it was before". Apparently, there are many things that are the opposite of love, depending on your source: hatred, fear, indifference. I think in this case, since we are talking of the BD, we can use indifference. They aren't moved by real emotions at this moment (Weston arc) and even later, they are probably fake emotions based on fake memories (from the orphanage children but I will not elaborate, other theories have done it better). Fear could also work since well, most people are rightfully terrified of them. Being far away from mundane concepts? I would say they fill this box. And they sure are a sight to behold, nothing against it. What confuses me is the "compensated formless" I don't have any idea of what it could mean

"Just skilled at pretending to be human / Searching for those other than monsters + Like the blue shimmer of / A star of the first magnitude / Far from having enough faith": We are looking at the current arcs here in the first lines. The one skilled at pretending to be human and searching for things is Sebastian (it can't be O!Ciel because he isn't pretending to be human). What he is searching is the headmaster, that we know being Undertaker and it ends up bringing with him, again, the BD. In particular, it specifically mentions R!Ciel. You know what is the name of the biggest star of first magnitude that is currently known? Yeah, you are correct, it's Sirius. And we have known Ciel is Sirius for a while now. As to why the star does not have lot's of faith, do I have to remind you "Dear God, why are you smiling?".

"So kind /A colorless encounter, pupils of glass /Thought they may shatter to pieces,/ You laugh your head off, saying, "you must be kidding"": Listen, I have seen a couple of people mentioning "oh it's a reference to monochrome no kiss". But I don't think that's the case, not completely at least. I think this is a parallel of O!Ciel and Sebastian's meeting to R!Ciel and Undertaker. First because one of the people involved is laughing, and Sebastian smirks but has never really laughed out loud, the one that spends his time laughing is Undertaker. Second is the pupils of glass that can shatter to pieces. I wonder if it means that R!Ciel could be using glass balls for his eyes? When we have seen his not-completed form they look pretty empty and they are made of soft tissue, so maybe Undertaker changed the "real eyes" with glass? Idk. The shattering could also indicate the fragility of the BD that are still far from perfect.

There is no such thing as eternity, so /There is no ending until all turns to ash this made me scream Undertaker's BD because we know he needs a full budy for the creation of his dolls and bringing back to life his loved ones. And we know he can't bring back Vincent because his body was too ruined by the fire. So fire IS the only ending in which a person can just die with no possible interference from a Shinigami with resurrection intent.

Tragedy twins

I had no idea of these lines other than, it just fits the vibes. Until I remembered how much Yana likes to mirror the twins.

There's no love, no love, there's no love there: this one is R!Ciel singing. Undertaker may have started to work on the BD out of grief for his loved ones, but it feels like it turned into an obsession.

There's nothing, there's nothing, there's no truth: let's add some angst because this one was not enough. O!Ciel never gets to discover the truth behind the murder of his family before he dies. Maybe we, as readers, can see it. Maybe from Sebastian's eyes. But yeah, we don't have a guarantee that O!Ciel will ever know anything, he could just die with Sebastian being unable to prevent it (either because it happened due to a Shinigami, or maybe an angel or god knows what).

But of course, we can also swap them! O!Ciel was so confident people wouldn't have liked him coming back alive and so started the whole identity swap, so he could still feel like the love he is receiving now is fake, since it's built on a lie. While R!Ciel's truth could now be either the murder or the family again, or the fact that he isn't "real" now. He is a BD, his action and thoughts are based on memories that are likely not his own. He has become a fake, a lie. "There is no truth" because that is a BD similar to him, and not necessary him.

I am exhausted I haven't thought about something this much since my thesis. Yes some of them are quite the stretch, hopefully I will trigger a smart person and finally we get a good analysis. Meanwhile you have to deal with me. Feel free to add your opinions pls, I love hearing theories.

PSA: I have formatted this half on computer and half of phone so idk how weird the formatting is I will check again tomorrow, now I'm tired of rereading it.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Could you possibly do something with yandere Dalv please?

Of course! Ah, Dalv, surely all that time in isolation did not leave an impact on you and your perception of friendship, right?

Warnings: yandere character; stalking; imprisonment;

  For as much as he tries to convince himself that he's better off hiding away in the deepest parts of the Ruins, Dalv is someone who misses companionship dearly.

  It doesn't matter if you're a monster living the upper parts of the Ruins or a human who has fallen down, when you accidently crash your way into the lower levels with no way back up, he's bound to find you.

  This place is his home, and while some other monsters have decided to stick around as well, he still manages to stay the lonely master of this place.

  At first, he avoids you. Any sighting of you has him pulling the hood of his cloak over his head and moving in the opposite direction back into the dark, no matter if you've been trying to follow him around hoping he could help you or if you are still oblivious to his existence.

  Eventually, he sees that you're no real threat. Curiosity pulling at his interest, even as a part of him still keeps telling him that he should just go away and leave you be. He wants to be left alone. Then why does he keep following you around?

  But you start to leave quite the positive impact down here, all the few other residents taking a liking to you, even Decibat only has positive things to say. And your friendliness leaves him hoping that maybe... Maybe his time feeling desolate down here could come to an end?

  When he finally approaches you with a nervousness still clinging to him, he's still beating himself over that this is a bad idea. But when you tell him that you'll be his friend, a warmth he spent so long forgetting comes back to him.

  Is this real? Are you real? It's been so long since he had any sort of connection, specially with someone who came from outside these walls.

  Maybe it would be nice to have some company again.

  Without any help from the outside, you're basically dependent on Dalv's word to be able to leave. But... You don't need to know that yet, right?

  Instead of removing the wooden barricade keeping you from the outside of the Ruins, he apologises and tells he doesn't have a way out through his house, not even letting you see it. It was blocked off long ago... Yeah, it's a shame... Don't worry, though! He'll find another way, he swears! He'll help you. That's what friends are for!

  So please, stay a little longer?

  If you don't question it too much and let him "help", days will start to go by. You get to stay at his house, read through his stories, eventually grow tired of eating only corn or whatever other concoction he manages to make, and explore the Ruins alongside him for any hidden puzzle or fragile wall that could give away to the outside. But you'll never find it.

  He feels bad about it, he really does. But he doesn't want to be left alone again. And the outside... Well, isn't it better to stay here? Isn't it safer?

  So until you decide to confront him, this will continue. He never realised how much he missed having a friend.

[chemdisaster]

in my lonely arc 💔

Chem has seen this happen before. For three previous games, they sat back and Watched as an entirely different set of players fought against the binding rules of the game. Alliances were made and broken, lives were won and lost, and through it all Chem Watched, and remembered, and eventually started to learn.

Knowing how these things tend to go, they quickly figured out that their best bet was to gather as many resources as possible while they still could. And they made good on that resolve, spending the entire week filling their inventory with anything that could potentially be useful, redstone and iron and the enchanter a comforting weight on the back of their mind.

Now though, as the haze of preparation falls off, they find themselves sitting alone in their Pits, the enchanter warm against their side, wondering if maybe in their will to survive they may have missed something that most people would find crucial.

The Pits, for all their beauty, are a quiet place.

No one really comes down here, other than to grab some glow berries. And Chem doesn’t mind, really! Let them have their glow berries. Having killed every pig they’ve come across, Chem finds that glow berries really aren’t of any importance to them. If their fellow players want to eat a fruit that makes them even more hungry, they can (literally) be their guest.

It’s just...the quiet gets overwhelming.

Sitting alone in their cave, watching messages slowly tick by on their comm—something within Chem aches to hear a voice other than the ones in their own head.

It’s not even that it’s anything new. But walking up the mountain, only to immediately turn back when they heard the sounds of people talking—

It’s like something clicked in their brain.

Oh. They have friends.

Chem doesn’t know why they expected anything different. Not everyone is like them. Not everyone sees making human connections as something secondary compared to preparing for the upcoming bloodshed. Not everyone would spend a week mining, hoping that someone would wait for them, only to surface with the realisation that everyone else has moved on.

(Not everyone prioritises surviving over living.)

Ah well. It’s too late now. They missed their chance.

Exhaling heavily, Chem curls up against the stone wall and hugs the enchanter closer to their body, letting its steady warmth chase away the coldness inside.

They may not have friends, but they have resources. And that’s all they need. The enchanter will do more for them in the long run than any fragile alliance ever could. They don’t need friends.

Friends won’t save their life, after all.

However lonely a life it may be.

[magnuslightwoodbane]

(without you) i’d be gone with the wind

vashwood, 1.9k words, wolfwood inner monologue, pre-relationship, second person pov

read on ao3

You have so many names, and you like less than half of them. Wolfwood is the easiest - you wear that one like a coat, to cover up the rest of you, but you don’t mind it, because you chose to wear it. Nicholas was given to you as a child, and the Punisher affixed onto that like a chain around your neck, dragging you down to the level you belong to, only the solid ground of reality and life keeping you from being frozen in ice for all eternity. The ninth circle, betrayers of special relationships, Judas, Brutus, Satan, you.

You’ve been called Executioner, devil, preacher man, attack dog, Father, monster. Nick is fine. You don’t feel like a Nick, really. Nico belonged to Livio, but Vash said it once, in a dazed state of having just woken up, and it surprisingly didn’t feel like your heart was being wrenched out of your chest, so you let him and only him keep using it. You think that the two of them would have really liked each other, so that makes it okay, somehow.

You’re sat on the hood of an abandoned, broken down car with him, cigarette lit, with only sand stretching out for miles, no matter which way you look. Above, though, the Worms shine and shimmer in all their glory, and you try to pretend that they’re stars. Somewhere beyond them, past the actual stars, somewhere way out there, is Earth. You’ve never felt a connection to it, not really - you’ve barely got any human remaining left in you, you think - but the warm body next to you has you thinking. Vash came to Noman’s Land with the rest of the humans, all those years ago, sure, but the humans at least had a tangible origin point, a home to remember, to honour. Plants come from another fucking dimension . You can’t even begin to comprehend that, how it must be for Vash. And yeah, okay, there are other Plants here, swimming around in great big fuck-off vats, being used by humans to survive, but the humans probably don’t even realise they’re sentient (the thought maybe Knives had a point flashes briefly in your mind here, and you shake it off quickly). But the closest thing Vash has ever had to someone who gets him IS Millions fuckin’ Knives, and that’s just depressing.

The guy might have been cutting your cheques for a bit but fuck me, you couldn’t ever imagine holding him and calling him brother. Couldn't imagine still loving him so deeply the way Vash does, even after everything Knives put him through.

Anyway. Back to Vash.

(It always comes back to Vash with you, doesn’t it?)

Not that long ago, you couldn’t even imagine liking Vash as much as you do, so maybe you just needed to spend a little more time with Knives to really get it. But on the other hand, you would prefer to deepthroat a cactus, as chances are good you would be dealing with less of a prick.

Vash shifts his body on the hood of the rusty metal carcass, and crosses his legs next to you. You can feel the warmth of his leg brushing up against you, far too hot for any human flesh to be beneath those layers of fabric. It must be horribly lonely, being Vash. Wandering, trying to help, being met with fear and hatred at every turn. He must have travelled alone for so long.

And now, he travels with you.

You’d fled the last town you were in with him earlier this evening, Vash having of course stumbled his way into another situation, chased out to gunfire and shouting. You don’t even know what pissed them off so badly this time. Meryl and Milly stayed behind with their apparently innocent demeanours and plausible deniability; you work so well as a unit, the four of you, that you don’t even need to agree a plan of action with them when these things happen - you two run, they stay behind, stock up, and catch up. Plus, it gives the two of them some time alone. You don’t yet know if either has made a move yet, but Milly is so perceptive you don’t believe she hasn’t noticed the looks Meryl throws her way when she thinks no one else is looking. Maybe they already have begun something, and are just so very good at being subtle about it.

He shifts again, and you hear the almost imperceptible hiss escape from his teeth. Your head swivels so fast that you feel you would have broken your own neck had you moved any quicker. You watch as Vash reaches his arm up under his shirt, exposing his tummy - abdomen, Wolfwood, don’t be a child - and the scar tissue that patterns his flesh. His long fingers find their target, and pluck something out, before withdrawing. His shirt falls to cover the expanse of skin and you feel a weird sense of loss. You have no idea why this keeps happening.

You have no time to think too hard about it, though, as between Vash’s fingers is a bullet. A spent one. With blood all over it. That he’d just pulled out of his own body.

And Vash? Well, Vash… he laughs. He grins, sheepishly. “Missed that one, huh?”

You feel like you’re going to fucking explode with rage. You tamp it down before it can boil over, because it’s not Vash you’re actually angry at, more the people who shoot at him without care, whose first response to this angel of deliverance is violence.

Okay, you’re a little angry at Vash too. Stupid noble martyr hero complex motherfucker. “What. The. Fuck. Spikey.” You think you kept your voice level, but judging by Vash’s wince, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d ended up growling it instead.

“Uh. Sorry?” he says. You seize the lapels of his coat and drag him towards you. He yelps in surprise.

“You idiot, are you hurt anywhere else? Why didn’t you say anything?! What the fuck even happened?! Why did you piss them off so badly they shot you? Why do you never do anything to stop- URGH!” You shove him away, not hard, but you need to calm yourself down, so you release him with some of the energy that had just been building up. You look away from him, and spit out the butt of the cigarette onto the sand below, trying to focus on actually breathing.

You’ve run through a couple of the breathing exercises you’d read about in that trashy little book, and just about stabilised your mood, before Vash speaks.

"I know you think I'm naive, sometimes."

He's right. You do. But you're not sure if it's because he actually is, or because you're so twisted and broken in the opposite way. Maybe it’s both.

He continues. "I think you forget how much older than you I am. I'm this way because I choose to be, because I choose to believe in humans and their capacity for love."

You snort. "Even when we're being run out of towns because they're shooting at you all the fucking time?"

"They shoot because they're scared of me. They're scared because of their love for their people. It doesn't matter that they're wrong about the threat being me, really.”

You groan at his self-flagellating goodness. “Well, you’re just a really, fuckin’, good  person then. Ain’t ya? Not like the rest of us.” Not like me, you don’t say. The words come out like shotgun blasts, but you don’t spit them with venom, because it’s not an insult, not to him. He is good personified, everything you’re not, wrapped up in a lanky, idiot-shaped package.

"Wolfwood, you believe in a soul, right? In an afterlife, in punishment for those who've done wrong?"

Where the fuck is this coming from? "It's… complicated," you say, because it is. You don't look at him, instead staring straight up at the sky. You think the eternal damnation is here and now for the whole of humanity, but you'll never say that out loud. It might break his heart, and you couldn't handle that, just like you can't handle thinking about why that troubles you.

"Well if you do, then you would have to be a good person too, Nico,” he says, softly, gently. “Because you would damn your own soul a hundred times over so other people don't have to. So I don't have to."

You feel your heart stop, the blood thundering in your ears. You don’t see it, but you can feel the movement, as he pulls up his legs and wraps his arm around them. He rests his head on his knees, but that fucking gaze of his doesn't shift. It burns into the side of your face; you can feel it, stripping you bare despite how desperately you try to rebuild the eroding walls. He smiles, softly; you hear it in his words.

"Nicholas, the Protector."

That makes you look at him. There’s not a single coherent thought in your mind, no biting remarks, and you can feel your mouth gape open, shaping out formless words, desperate to respond, to deny, to lash out, anything so you don’t have to accept this honour that you could never deserve. He chuckles, fucking chuckles, and he grins in that way he does, all teeth and eyes crinkling, and you want to kiss him so fucking bad-

Wait.

What?

Oh no. No no no no no no no-

Oh yes, says the irritating narrator that takes up residence in your mind every time you have a crisis, of which this is absolutely NOT. You want him, carnally of course, because you’re just awful like that, but worse. You want to be a better person, for him. Because of him. You have FEELINGS for your closest pal, Punisher.

Vash leans in while you freak out in your own mind, and your body fortunately has the capacity not to flinch as he gets closer. He rests his hand against your jaw, and cups it gently, thumb sweeping over your cheek and flesh warm where you didn’t realise you were getting cold. His metal hand comes to rest on your leg, heavy and comforting, just like his presence by your side is whether sleeping or fighting. He leans closer, so much closer, and his lips brush your cheek in a small, slow kiss. You feel your eyes slip closed as his breath ghosts your skin, and a whimper involuntarily let out. You have no idea what to do with such sheer tenderness.

He leans back, slightly, and you can hear the intake of breath before he speaks. Immediately, your mind runs through a thousand and one things he could say next, ranging anywhere from and between Psych! You suck actually to have my babies, Nicholas.

“Let’s go set up camp Nico, I am beat! ” is what he actually says. It’s so Vash. It’s perfect. He’s.. no, don’t go there yet. “Okay, Grandpa.” You regain the ability to speak as you hop down, but it only comes out as a hoarse whisper. Vash, to his credit, doesn’t react to this at all. He wiggles instead, like he’s doing a little dance, as he walks away to the spot you found earlier. “Respect your elders!” he sings, and you follow. You will always follow.

You have so many names, and you’ve just been given one more. This one you like. You hope one day that you can earn it, but for now, it is his.

[livingincolorsagain]

hey babe! my coffee boiled over just so I could send you this so you better answer

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

☯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

Oh damn. I’m gonna answer anyway, but damn.

from this list

🤲 for me, writing is a way to express myself, because I’m not really much of a talker. I do often project on my characters, but not so much they’re not themselves anymore. Anytime I find a connection between a character I like and myself, I latch onto it, because chance is it’s not talked about enough in canon, and I like to highlight those little things that make theses little fictional characters more human.

☯️ this is a loaded question. There are many benefits to being a part of something, and having friends who share the same passion and interests. For a long time, I was a writer without any social media, and no friends to talk to, and let me tell you, you don’t realize how lonely it is until you start talking to someone. Also, having friends helps a lot with creatively. I made this blog in late 2020, and I’ve been writing way more since then.

On the flip side, the more you engage with the fandom, the more you’ll see things you’re better off not seeing. Fandoms aren’t always a safe, happy place. Sometimes people like to pretend they exist in a vacuum, like their words and actions hold no weight. They’re so comfortable with being vile and ignorant and hateful and racist, then when they’re called out they’re like, ‘well, there’s no way for me to know better’, which is bullshit and we all know it.

It’s extremely frustrating and tiring, and once you open yourself up to the whole experience, it’s almost impossible to not see this shit, or get affected by all of it.

So, does it create a healthy experience? Not exactly. You have to find the balance and choose the best options for yourself. Blocking is a great option, and I’m not afraid to use it.

💥well, I already put my least kudos’d fic here, so here’s my second least kudos’d fic!

The Chance of You

It’s a bright winter morning, with clear skies and a gentle breeze, the sun a welcome kiss of warmth on Bucky’s cold cheeks, when they meet for the first time.

Personally, I think this is one of my prettiest fics. I absolutely love the atmosphere of it, and how it left a lot of people wanting a sequel.

[koii14]

Agonies in life: A Reflection Paper on the Anthology, “Lockdown Litanies: Countless Untold Stories” an essay by Christine Mae Marquiño

Introduction:

• Different Struggles of a Woman

• How people and society affects someone's feelings

Thesis Statement (Topic):

The Philippines have so many stories that are based in real life, which got the interest of the readers. Authors did not stop creating this kind of story because it helps the readers or audience to understand and realize more the meaning of life. 

Each of us have struggles in life, both men and women however in this anthology women played different roles. Society is a big factor for someone's mental health, as well as our loved ones. 

Body:

As I read the first poem entitled "Dear Diary", I can feel the persona's pain. She is hurt by the people around her, struggles in life, left alone, wanting to disappear but then overcomes all of it. I realized that people will truly come and go as stated in these lines from the poem, "Meeting strangers for warmth and solace, wanting for more. But all was left in me, I ended up alone" we will meet them not for a lifetime but for the meantime only and memories. Reading this poem reminds me the song Stronger by Kelly Clarkson where the tone is kind of hype because the lyrics explores in empowerment and recovering from heart aches that later on became stronger and doesn't feel alone which evident with the lyric, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

Stand a little taller Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone".

In the next poem which is "The Tale of a Modern Sisyphus", the persona is a strong woman. It taught me that problems can be easier for us if we are together with someone as it is evident with the following lines from the poem, "To the human condition, we are not inherently alone. A burden is less felt when carried together" that in life, we are not alone. Problems could be the reason for us to become stronger. It reminds me Rachel Platten's Fight Song where the tone is so encouraging that will lift up the listeners with its lyric like, "My power's turned on

Starting right now I'll be strong"

"O’ Yayi (A Prose Poem)", the third poem. Proves to me that first love will last forever. However, it hurts when the love of your life keeps on thinking and talking about their past love, even if you did everything you can. We can read in the poem these lines,  "She received all the comfort and luxury a woman could ever get from a loving husband" "That spark in her eyes after saying his name" where we can feel the pain of the persona longing for his wife. This reminds me the song Remember Me an OST of a movie entitled Coco sang by Miguel where the tone is sad and longing for their loved ones but making sure that through this song they'll remember them as manifested with these lyrics, "I hold you in my heart" "Know that I'm with you" . 

In the fourth poem, "Two Red Laces On Wonderland" I have understood that if we fall in love with someone, no man can get our heart anymore. Love indeed is a strong feeling that we cannot control, also we can feel happiness whenever we are with him/her as it stated in these lines from the poem "All because of you, my Wonderwall. Heaven by your side, I’ve tasted wine" "And tried my luck with several men,

But you felt like home, where I belong" being with the love of our life is one of the best times in our life therefore it could also be the worst or painful day of our life. I remember the song Because of You by Kelly Clarkson, when we listen to this song we can feel the pain and sadness that is caused by the love of her life as manifested with these lyrics "Because of you I learned to play on the safe side, so I don't get hurt".

Upon reading the fifth poem, entitled " Umbilical" I have known that giving birth is not easy. From the title itself we can see that it is connected to a baby. In spite of the pain, the mother managed to deliver the child. Love that comes from a mother is really genuine, they will do everything just to take care of their child as evident in these lines from the poem, "The pain she suffered just for me to see:" "You have made your purpose, I guarantee. Hush, sleep tight. Everything will be alright." This reminds me Sad Song by We the Kings, which tone is sad and the lyrics is painful that we cannot live without our loved one or a mother rather as it manifested in the lyric, "Without you, I feel broke Like I'm half of a whole Without you, I've got no hand to hold".

Sixth poem entitled "RE: Paper (I’m Red, IMRaD)*", shows how hard the education is in different aspects. I realized that having the responsibility is not as easy as we think, especially if it is connected to someone. And sometimes we are limited to do things as evident in these lines from the poem, " If we keep on insisting quality education for students Why not allow teachers access quality to their extent?  Help teachers help students. After all, we cannot give what we don’t have" even if you know what's the best to do if it is not approved by those who are in position you can do nothing.  This reminds me of the song Sign of the Times by Harry Styles. Which sounds like a contemporary mashup where we can feel the pain of every lyric. And we'll know that this isn’t the first time we’ve been in a hard time, and it’s not going to be the last time as manifested with the lyric  "We never learn, we been here before"

"3 A.M. Awakening" is a seventh poem. I realized that depression and anxiety normally hit us at 3 in the morning which caused us to suffer alone. The persona in the poem is experiencing this also but I think that most of the time, we're thinking about what people did to us as it shows in these lines from the poem"People hold truth in fiery tongues and spit Eternal billows for us found in splits." that sometimes leads us not to lean on our friends' shoulders and just keep our problems to ourselves. As I read the poem I remember the song See You Again by Charlie Puth with a soft rhythm and message that there might have a problem between a friendship but at the end they'll still help each other as evident in the lyric, "It's been a long day without you, my friend

And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again"

In the eighth poem entitled "My Frail Lady", I understood that the persona was dreaming about herself struggling. However it was a realization through her dreams that led her to come up with this thinking as it states in these lines from the poem, "Freedom at long last Upon her long, quiet pause." that I think this helped her to find freedom for herself. It reminds me of the song by Maximillian, Beautiful Scars. The tone can give courage as well as the lyrics that even if we struggle in something we should learn to embrace it as well as our weakness, so that it is not that heavy for us anymore as manifested with this lyric, "Cause it's a part of you that will make you strong Embrace your flaws".

As I read the last poem entitled, " Major Arcana" I understand sometimes we put our hope on what other people saw, hence it lifts us up. However we have the idea on what's the best thing to do even if we are wondering, we know that our life is not tragic as evident in these lines from the poem "And so you went in wonder and surprise For you have seen what lies ahead," . I remember the song Scars To Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara. The lyrics can indeed be an encouragement to the listeners with its good rhythm. And as we listen to this song we will understand that there is a hope even if we are at our lowest as shown in this lyric "But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark".

Conclusion: 

Reading these stories caused me to experience a range of emotions, including pain and the realization of many life lessons. It's not always simple being a woman; we frequently handle all of our issues on our own. Making the decision to keep things to ourselves and ultimately breaking down. We experience suffering in many different ways, sometimes from other people and other times from within. We have to confront a new challenge every day, but we also have hope that we will eventually overcome our difficulties. We ladies have demonstrated our strength. Despite our faults, failures, and trials, we are still here, enjoying the life we have. Growing and learning new things.

[babemagnetfr420]

This past week it really hit hard me that all the moments I have felt warmest and the most alive are the ones when I'm giving or experiencing kindness. I knew this objectively but I think I am starting to actually understand it now. It is starting to become a part of me.

I came out as transmasc and all my guy friends started referring to me as "one of the boys." One friend taught me how to tie. My trans brother came into my room every morning to help me make sure my pants were sitting manly on my hips.

On Monday night one of my friends invited himself to go with me to the graveyard I was heading to to play my banjo because he knew I was scared of the dark and then he tricked me into letting him pay for gas because he knows that's hard for me right now.

On Tuesday I went to the gas station where I'm friends with all the employees and we exchanged poets to check out as is our tradition and I gave one of them a CD I thought they'd like to hear. Later I went out with one of my best friends to thrift and she made me feel handsome as I was finding boyclothes and made sure I was comfortable while trying everything on.

On Wednesday I brought my sick friend soup and bread and a poetry book to read and then we got to giggle about it.

On Thursday another of my best friends and I went to the woods because I needed to put my hands in the dirt and we really really listened to each other and I got to carry that warmth around in my chest for hours. Later I had a panic attack after play practice and I couldn't go home because I'd told my parents it ended later cause I had planned to go sneak and buy boyclothes. I called one of my theatre friends I'd felt peaceful talking to earlier in an attempt to ground myself and he talked me through it for thirty minutes and then invited me to his house where hed made me a plate of fruits and vegetables because he knew I might be hungry and that I don't like meat.

Friday I got to take care of and comfort my friend who is feeling hopeless and lonely as of late and then later I was hiding out in the stairwell at the school late at night after play practice playing my banjo and singing in an intense wailing way in order to get out all of the tough emotions I was dealing with and my journalism teacher was there for some reason and heard me playing and listened to me and then made sure I was ok and comforted.

Yesterday I got to use the Spanish I've been practicing extra hard this week to share my hot goss with my Spanish speaking friend at work and be able to listen and support him when he told me about what he's been struggling with this week.

There is not a day that goes by lately where I don't have am intensely human moment to hold on to. And all these moments! Feel so infinite and warm! Feel still and wholly good, like I wasn't wanting for anything else. The more I open myself to receiving kindness, the more I am able to give it, and the more human I feel. There's a Desmond Tutu quote that I really love. He says "When you do reach out and help someone, or someone is kind to you, you feel good. Why is that? Because you start to see that we are made for compassion."

I think every moment like this is proof of that- that the base state of humanity is kindness. That we are wired to be good and seek connection and give kindness. I'm at a weird place in my life where I'm not sure exactly what I want to do with my future or how I will live a life I'm happy with, but I'm also starting to understand that I will never lose my joy as long as I keep turning back towards the gentleness and goodness in others. And it is everywhere. And I am warm beyond words.

[heloiblue]

  If there was anything Mark found reliable in his life, that would be his shadow. Many people lost theirs once they became teenagers, some didn’t even get that far before being left shadowless. Assholes, Mark thought, there had to be something inherently wrong with you for your shadow to leave you as a child. His ‘friend’, (quotation marks included because she wasn’t really a friend as much as she was an acquaintance he had to tolerate at work), Jenny had lost hers at 9 which made complete sense in Mark’s head, he sure wouldn’t want to be the poor thing shadowing someone as intolerably entitled as Jenny. But Mark, he was different, him and his shadow had been best friends since childhood and were still going strong. His shadow, which he called Shapey for as long as he could remember, had always been there for him, and they had a unique connection that both Mark and Shapey were extremely proud of. Not many people could communicate that well with a being who could not speak through the same means.

  Mark sometimes thought he felt so close to Shapey because he was, himself, similar to a shadow. As a child, he was very lonely and couldn’t make friends easily, he was also non-verbal for the first 7 years of his life, Shapey being the only creature he could speak to. He often felt different from his peers. Whenever he tried to speak to kids his age, it felt like a lump formed in his throat and he couldn’t get it out. Like a lot of shadows out there, he seemed to be trying to communicate something that no one else besides other shadows could hear. It was lonely, but he learned to deal. And like a shadow, he tended to gravitate towards the dark so that no one would notice him, so that he didn’t need to make an effort to be understood. He would always have Shapey at least. With time, he had gotten better at pretending to feel human. He worked at a respectful company and even had friends he would hang out with now and then, but the only time he could ever truly feel like himself was when he was with Shapey. Either way, he should get some sleep, rolling in bed thinking about his past and his life wouldn’t get him anywhere. It was dark and he couldn’t see Shapey but he knew he was there. Shapey was always there.

  “Good night Shapey. Love you.”

  He felt Shapey’s warmth as a response, telling Mark, in the way he could, ‘I love you too’. And then Mark fell asleep, peaceful and safe.

  In the morning, sunlight barged through Mark’s window. Dammit. He’d forgotten to shut the curtains again. Squinting against the sun, Mark rolled around in bed, hoping to not be too awake by the light so that he would still be able to sleep in. It was Saturday, for god’s sake he deserved to get some rest. Mark spoke slowly with a groaning voice, trailing off between words:

  “Shapey, could you please just… get rid of all this sun?”

  He wrapped his head in his pillow trying to keep the light out while Shapey did his thing. It was kind of a habit by now. Every weekend when Mark would leave the curtains open, he would politely but crankily ask Shapey to make himself big as to cover the whole room in a comfortable darker shadow. Even though there would still be visible daylight, it still beat getting up to shut the curtains and it certainly was better than getting beams of sunlight directly in his eyes when he was trying to sleep. Shapey never seemed to mind it, so it was a win-win. Mark suddenly noticed an absence of warmth next to him. Most people described their shadows as cold but Shapey felt like a peaceful lukewarm to Mark. The light was taking too long to go away. Mark opened one of his eyes hesitantly.

  “Shapey?”

  No response. No Mark shaped shadow pointing a thumb up in the wall, no suddenly warm feeling all wrapped around in familiar shadow.  No tingling sensation in his chest. He opened the other eye.

  “Shapey, where are you?”

  Again, nothing. Feeling a sudden burst of panic, Mark unwrapped his head from the pillow and sat up, looking around the room attentively. There was nothing but uninterrupted sunlight, the only traces of shadow being from objects.

  “Shapey come on. Stop playing.”

  He enunciated in a loud but hesitant voice.

  “Where are you buddy?”

  He thought aloud, mumbling in a gloomy voice while a crease came up in his eyebrows. Mark threw his covers aside, got up and started searching. He noticed the shadow cast by the small armchair next to his bed and suddenly realized he wouldn’t be able to find Shapey if he was inside a physical shadow, He got his phone from the bedside table, its clock marking around 7 AM and turned on the flashlight so that he could look in any inanimate shadow.

  Mark started with his room, lighting up the few places that were dark. Under his bed, under the armchair, behind his bookshelf, under the covers, inside his wardrobe, behind his wardrobe, under it. He looked everywhere, but still, he didn’t see or feel Shapey near him. Growing more and more desperate, Mark moved on to the kitchen and the living room looking in every possible place, chanting his shadow’s name and pleading for him to come back. He only noticed he’d started to cry when he felt his oversized pyjama t-shirt slightly wet from tears. He wiped his face and kept looking.

  “Shapey, please.”

  He was in a full panic now, turning his apartment inside out in a desperate attempt to find his dear friend. He couldn’t have left him, could he? Shapey wouldn’t do that, Shapey couldn’t do that. Had he been a bad friend? Had he expected too much, not given his shadow enough independence? His thoughts spiralled as he went back to his room to start from scratch, taking out his mattress, the cushion on the chair,  taking out every piece of clothing in his wardrobe, taking out every book in his bookshelf. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

  The man let out a loud groan and threw a book on the wall out of frustration. He pulled on his messy black hair as his eyes filled with heavier tears. The book had fallen to the floor open and upon a closer look, Mark recognized it, it was a children’s book, one he couldn’t bring himself to let his mother give away when he was first moving. He sat down slowly and carefully picked up the book and looked at the page it was open at. Despite the circumstances, Mark smiled. With his voice a strange sound of simultaneous calm and fear, he said to a friend who wasn’t there and to himself:

  “You know, what’s funny about a human being this attached to his shadow is that you start to think that you’ll never be alone.”

  “I thought I would never again have to be alone.”

  His voice cracked mid-sentence and he could no longer hold down his sobs, and in the midst of that mess of a room that looked to have been broke into, he was a lonely 7-year-old again, who could only talk to his shadow, who couldn’t read, so the shadow read for him, re-enacting the whole book just so the human could have a moment of hope, could hear the story about the lonely elephant who became friends with an ant. Mark looked around and felt more alone than he had ever felt in years.

  Then, a glimmer of hope, he heard something, some kind of noise behind the bookshelf in its shadow, he stopped sobbing immediately and tried to hear better. The man got up and closer to the bookshelf, only to be disappointed by the presence of nothing except his phone on the floor, buzzing an alarm to remind him of some appointment he was too panicked to think about. Of course, it wasn’t Shapey, shadows don’t even make noise, idiot. He let out a sigh. Crying like a child wouldn’t help him now. He picked up his phone, the clock now marking around 9 AM. Had it really been that long since he started looking? The alarm kept buzzing and he realized what it was for. For fuck’s sake, he had a date today. As much as he hated Jenny from the company, and her condescending attitude towards everyone, he had to admit, she was at least a half decent match maker. He had his eyes on the new secretary, Logan, for about 6 months and Jenny set them up and got them talking. They were supposed to do breakfast today, and Logan, who was maybe the genuinely nicest guy he’d ever met, had invited him to go to a nearby dinner. Dammit. He wouldn’t go. He couldn’t go, not without Shapey. He would have to start looking in the building and then move on to the city. Feeling hopeless but at least a bit more purposeful in his search, Mark went back to the centre of the room, where his old book laid open, he picked it up again and approached the bookshelf. Just as he was about to put it back, he felt a familiar tingling in his chest. He froze and smiled, his eyes filling with tears for the third time that day, then, before turning, he proclaimed his shadow’s name as another question.

“Shapey?’

  He felt suddenly warmer when he turned around and saw him there in the wall, his best friend, his shadow, the closest thing he had to someone who truly knew him. Shapey was in his normal form as Mark, but somehow, he seemed different, paralyzed.

  “You scared me buddy. I thought you were leaving me.”

  Mark felt Shapey’s warmth fluctuate, becoming colder.

  “What happened? You feel troubled.”

  Shapey touched Mark in the only way he could, through his chest, the shadow’s whole spirit reaching Mark’s heart and providing him with that warm peace he was so accustomed to. He realized his heart had been pounding and that it was now beating at its normal rhythm.

  “What’s up, Shapey? Talk to me.”

 Mark’s smile and his relief were fading. Shapey made the shape of a small child who Mark recognized as himself, alone, holding a book, the child became taller and the book slowly disappeared. People appeared next to the now grown boy, Woman and men, and then, finally, a particular tall man Mark knew to be Shapey’s form for Logan. Mark started shaking his head.

“No. No… What…What are you saying?”

  Shapey turned into words.

  “You’re all grown up now and so am I.”

  Mark looked stunned and could only keep refusing.

  “Shapey, No… no!

  “I’m so proud of you”

  “Stop.”

  “At how far you’ve come”

  “At how far you can still go”

  “You have a date today!”

  “8-year-old you would never believe someone would like you enough to go somewhere with you, much less want to date you.”

  “We grew up together and we needed each other.”

  Mark kept repeating the same words. No. Shapey. Please.

  “But we don’t anymore”

  “You keep saying that you’ll always be alone, but you aren’t. Not anymore. You have friends now. You don’t need to hide anymore. You don’t need to be a shadow.”

  Mark fell silent, Shapey touched his heart again. He felt his shadow’s warmth more comforting than it had ever been, as if Shapey had poured out all his love into it.

  “You can do this. I can do this. It is time.”

“I know it’s scary to be known, but there are so many people to love and I’m afraid we can’t if we’re still focused on the only love we’ve known as safe.”

“I left earlier without saying anything because I wanted to see how you’d react. You’re ready.”

  Mark who had now been quietly reading his friend’s words on the sunlit wall, scoffed.

  “Am I? Because sobbing uncontrollably like a child and turning my apartment into a crime scene in the span of two hours isn’t what I would personally call a good reaction.”

  “A few years ago, you would have assumed I hated you, you wouldn’t have thought to look for me, you would have hurt yourself or done worse.”

  “You’re right”, Mark said in a defeated tone.

  “I’ll always be part of you and you’ll always be part of me”

  “I know.”

  “Just promise me you’ll go to the date today; I have a feeling Logan is the one”

  “I’m not exactly in the headspace for that.”

  “Promise.”

  Shapey took his normal form and cast an equal shadow to represent Mark, then strangled the shadow. Mark couldn’t help but smile and throw his hand up.

  “Ok! Ok. I promise.”

  “Good.”

  “So, where will you go? What will you do? Shadow someone else?”

  Shapey shook his head. He made more words.

  “I couldn’t. This is about my independence too. I need to go back to shadow world, I mean, I haven’t been there since I was one, I don’t even know where I came from.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. You deserve to have your own life too.”

  Mark rubbed his neck and Shapey took his normal form and flashed a thumbs up, before making more words.

 “Sorry for freaking you out, I just needed to know you’d be okay.”

  “It’s fine, I can take it, I’ll just never ever forgive you.”

  “Shut up”

  “Says the one without a mouth.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Nothing. I just…

  Mark laughed.

 “I’m gonna miss you, man”

 “I’ll miss you too, shadow boy who is now, finally, making friends, getting a boyfriend and becoming a human man.”

  Mark let out a good-humoured groan.

  “Stop being weird!”

  “I can’t help it, I’m your shadow, I’m supposed to be like you, remember?”

  “Shut up.”

  Mark was still smiling. He really was gonna miss this.

  “You better get going Mark, you’re already running late.”

  Mark’s smile faded.

  “I know that.”

   Mark’s eyes filled with tears again. He felt another tingling in his chest, likely the last he would ever feel. Shapey was there. But he wouldn’t always be. The tears started to fall; the tingling became warmer.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye.”, Mark pleaded.

  The words showed up gently at the wall:

  “But we have to.”

  “Goodbye Mark, thanks for existing with me”

  “This is where you say goodbye now.”

  But Mark couldn’t say anything, he could only sob.

  “Okay, last time, for real.”

  Shapey enveloped Mark in warm darkness, until his sobs quieted down.

  “I love you buddy.”

  “I love you too”

  “See you someday”

  As Mark finished reading the words on the wall, he felt a biting cold but also a sense of hope, he hoped they would be true, he hoped someday he would see Shapey again. Shapey reverted to his normal form and flashed a thumbs up. Mark gave him a smile as the shadow on the wall disappeared, making way to simple, uninterrupted sunlight.

  Mark looked around in his mess of a now empty-feeling room. He’d better start getting ready for his date, he couldn’t show up in pyjamas and a crying face. As he went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, he felt the underlying absence of his shadow trailing behind. It would be okay. He felt scared. Nevertheless, he was whole. Even if scared, he would grow, it’s what Shapey had thought him. Even darkness could be warm.

In this world, shadows aren’t simply an absence of light, but living entities with minds of their own. They can choose to follow or desert their owners, leading to unforeseen circumstances. Today, for the first time ever, you wake up to find your shadow gone.

[madaramikejimajuicyfatass]

i think madara gets really desperate for any skin on skin contact with his partner ... its mentioned in a lot of the madara fics ive read no matter whats going on with the plot or the dynamics and its kinda stuck in my head a little. he neeeds to be touching them it doesnt matter if theyre just walking around or one of them is actively inside the other, he needs his hands all over their skin, he needs to be rubbing his face into the crook of their neck like some sort of lovesick cat, he needs to feel them touching his hair (whether that be tugging it or petting it), he needs to feel them cupping his face, he needs to feel their warmth against his body, he needs to feel their beating heart, he needs to feel their chest rise and fall with each breath they take, he neeeds to touch and be touched so bad it kills him not to. hes kinda deprived himself of real human connections for so long that the moment he loves someone he clings to them like a lifeline

funnily enough writing this out reminds me a little bit about how newborn babies need skin to skin with their mama

Honestly this ask haunts me like a lover from a past (aka I love this ask so much and had a lot of thoughts about it hence why it took a bit for me to reply).

I mean, yeah, it make sense for him. Madara didn't get that normaly familiar touch, he didn't get that family life. I think it's kinda obvious that he, when faced with what familiar/platonic/romantic relationships, he falls back on what is easier to really comprehend: touch. Gentle touch, a need to be held and surround himself in. It's easier to show affection through touch, words aren't needed, not when you're as emotional congested as him and refused to voice any affections (because voicing it makes it real).

And yes! He's touch starved, and generally a lonely guy—first to run away, unsure of his own place on someone's life. Having that connection, secure, and having someone pry him open and make him feel safe—of course he's going to cling. Afterall, underneath everything, he's still that broken little kid just trying to play pretend.

[xsadcorebenji]

“hey i just met you

and this is crazy

but people haven’t been kind to me for awhile

and i want to be friends with you

and i know you’re not available

and i know i’ll probably have romantic feelings

please accept

i don’t ever think you’ll think of me that way

i more or less care if we stay friends

there’s warmth in you i haven’t felt in a long time

i went to the forest last week and whispered secrets into tres

and i didn’t even want to mention it

because i wanted all my wishes to come true

during Sunday i went to get this italian ice custard combo i miss from summertimes from childhood

a dandelion puff brushed my window and i was wondering if it’s a child’s wish

and i hope it comes true

i just need more good things to come to everyone

sorry for rambling

i just

haven’t met

anyone remotely curious

in another human being in a long time

is it addiction then?

i am talking to you in my thoughts alone

i lost

someone terribly important to me

it really has been lonely when everything goes quiet

i like you

because you seem to appreciate physical books

i’m tired of audiobooks and people claiming they have ‘read’ them

i like you

you seem to really like books

the books have been

the only way i’ve been managing

i like you

do you

at least think i’m cool

and would you get

so disastrously stressed if i carried a romantic blip of a thought

just full acceptance

either way

i see myself

restarting in a small town elsewhere entirely

and

maybe again

a small glimmer connection

c’est ca c’est tout”