#well that’s a lie in a year and half of working together 5-6 days a week she ate once | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladyodaskonpeito · 1 year ago

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Day 6: Congratulations

Fandom: Free!

Pairing: Yamazaki Sousuke x Tachibana Makoto

Wordcount: 2148

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Shigino Kisumi was a dietitian at TUH and someone who delivered a soul-crushing blow to Makoto’s heart by trying to bring Sousuke and Rin together back when everybody thought Rin was single.

The heartache he felt then dissolved thanks to Rin because he turned out to be dating Haru in secret all along.

The tables would turn, however, as Kisumi would be the one to save Makoto from the heartbreak prompted by Rin this time.

Makoto was wallowing in self-pity the day after Sousuke’s birthday—feeling sorry for himself because the man of his dreams would never reciprocate his crush—when Kisumi knocked on his office door.

“Hi,” greeted Kisumi as he strode in with the usual ever-present smile on his face. “Makoto, are you single?”

Wow, thought Makoto. Kisumi was just going to get right into it today.

“Yeah…” Makoto didn’t see any reason for him to lie. If Kisumi loved being a wingman that much, maybe he could find Makoto a distraction that could take his mind off Sousuke for a while.

“Perfect,” rejoiced Kisumi as he produced a name card out of his breast pocket. “I have just the right guy for you!”

Makoto gave a chuckle to humour him. He tried his best to hide the sadness in him, he knew deep down that no one else other than Sousuke would be perfect for him.

He then froze mid-chuckle upon catching a glimpse of the name card Kisumi placed on his desk: Dr Yamazaki Sousuke. How did Kisumi know that this was just the right guy he wanted?

The card was one used by hospital staff only, for when a doctor was on-call and needed to come in for emergency cases. Makoto was positive it was Sousuke’s personal phone number on it all right.

“You looked like you’re impressed,” said Kisumi with a tinge of smugness he couldn’t hide. “I’m sure you know what a good catch Dr Yamazaki is; he is handsome, tall, and has a well-respected career, I’m not sure how it’s fair for someone like that to remain single. So, I’ve taken it upon myself to find him someone suitable.”

Makoto wasn’t paying attention to Kisumi’s pitch because he was looking at the phone number on the card with an intense gaze. A string of numbers that ended with a zero, and not a six like the contact number that he had refused to erase for seven years now

“Oh, really?” He replied half-heartedly as he took out his phone, before realising that the response was too perfunctory. “I mean, is he really single? And isn’t he… heterosexual?”

“That came across to me as Rin’s attempt to placate a jealous Haru, so no, I would not assume that he’s heterosexual if he hadn’t said so himself. And yeah, can you imagine such a man’s good years going to waste?” Kisumi shook his head in disapproval. “I can’t imagine a man like you missing out on your best years either. So you know what’s the best course of action in this case?

“Erm…” The answer was in Makoto’s mind even before Kisumi proposed it, but he pretended to contemplate for a moment, scrolling his phone like he was being distracted by work. Sure enough, Sousuke’s saved contact came into view and he quickly looked back up at Kisumi as he pressed into it. “The two of us… start dating each other?”

“Uh, I was thinking of you two getting to know each other better on a more personal level first but, bingo!”

Makoto looked at his phone screen again and indeed, bingo. The number in his phone was off by one number at the end. He had to use every will in his body to resist the urge of a facepalm in front of Kisumi.

Makoto forced out a chuckle again, unable to hide the redness on his face. “I, uh… maybe I will go talk to him, then.” He looked at the time and stood up, surprised that it was only 9 a.m.; Sousuke was probably still on his post-call rounds. “Dr Yamazaki did an in-hospital call from seven last night. Do you think he’d still be in the ward right now?

Kisumi lit up at his question, flashing a bright smile on his face. “You mean you’ll go talk to him right now? I’m so happy and glad to see you so eager! But whether he’s still there or not depends on the attending he’s presenting to.”

“It’s Dr Mikoshiba in charge this morning,” Makoto knew off the top of his head and couldn’t hide his joy, mirroring the radiant beam Kisumi had. Although he felt bad that Sousuke was getting stuck here past his 12-hour shift—Dr Mikoshiba would have a lot of questions for the doctors he was training about each case of admission—he would be able to catch Sousuke before he knocked off and sort things out with him face-to-face! He gathered his things and quickly thanked Kisumi before rushing along in the direction of the GI ward.

He had only just dashed out of his office when he gasped at seeing Sousuke down the corridor.

“Makoto,” Sousuke was collected by contrast. He added, “Do you have a moment?”

“Oh, Sousuke!” Makoto couldn't hide the surprise on his face, since Sousuke had his stethoscope off and his bags on; he was ready to knock off. He was also delighted that they were now on a first-name basis with each other even without a spoken agreement. It was since that phone call yesterday, he supposed.

Now would definitely be a good time for him to finally breach the topic of remembering Sousuke from all those years ago.

“So–”

“I–”

A moment of silence passed by between them before Sousuke let out a deep belly laugh at the cliche and rubbed his nape.

Makoto was relieved to find that those mannerisms he had from all those years ago hadn’t changed. That was probably why he managed to muster up his courage to continue the conversation. “I’ve been meaning to say happy belated birthday!” He gave Sousuke the best smile he could manage with the nerves in his stomach. He hoped his voice would at least block out the heartbeat in his chest that was so loud it was reaching his ears.

“Thanks! Listen, I- how do I put this… uh,” Sousuke seemed to be having difficulties catching his breath, as his words came out in short phrases. “Erm…”

“You’re sounding like Nitori-kun when he called you yesterday,” joked Makoto. He was slightly more at ease now that Sousuke looked like he was having a harder time speaking. He gave a small laugh and added, “Are you okay?”

Sousuke then did a long inhale audibly and said, “That was the first thing I said to you back then, wasn’t it?”

It then became Makoto’s turn to have trouble forming words.

Sousuke remembered! He still recognised him after all those years!

“I’m not sure if you remembered,” Sousuke looked down to the floor and smiled sheepishly. “It’d been so long.”

“I do,” Makoto replied, a little too quickly.

Sousuke directed his gaze back up and Makoto saw how his teal eyes lit up. They were truly beautiful and that colour had always had a calming effect on him. “You do? I’m so glad,” said Sousuke with a relieved smile. “I’ve been meaning to ask you since I first joined this hospital.”

“Sorry about not saying anything earlier,” and Makoto was genuinely sorry. Maybe they would have become friends now had he not acted like he’d never seen him before or kept mum about knowing him from back then.

“No, don’t be,” Sousuke stepped closer before continuing, “I should’ve asked you earlier. I had the impression that you’d like to keep things professional, so I thought… I shouldn’t bring up personal history with you while on the job.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of my professionalism,” Makoto chuckled, despite the bittersweet feeling inside.

“I do! I was actually very impressed back then with how good you were as a student. I’ll always be thankful for your care during those times. But in the end, I was only a patient to you, so…”

“You were never just that to me,” Makoto had the urge to immediately clarify that.

“But… you never said anything before you ended your time at the rehab centre. I never got any calls from you after that either.” There appeared to be disappointment in Sousuke’s eyes.

Makoto never mentioned that his duties at the centre would be completed soon because that wasn’t a thing he had wanted to acknowledge. He thought that’d be it for them, so he’d rather cherish whatever moments they had together before the end would come. After all, it wasn’t like he could ask for someone’s phone number on the job, that’d be highly inappropriate. It wasn’t until Sousuke left the number for him that sparked hope in him of the two of them becoming something more.

“In truth,” Makoto didn’t know how he could break down the mishap that happened, so he showed him the text messages that he saved on his phone. “I did try to text you.”

Sousuke inched forward to peek at his phone screen. “The number in your phone ends with a six instead of a zero…” He then read the texts in silence with his jaw agape. “Makoto, I- I’m so sorry!”

That elicited a genuine chuckle from Makoto, because what did Sousuke have to apologise for? “It wasn’t your fault I got the wrong number saved.”

“Well, I was the one who wrote the number down on a slip of paper…” Sousuke covered his face with both hands, attempting to hide the flush.

Makoto then imitated the belly laughter Sousuke did, except in his own higher-pitched voice. “Well, you know what they say about doctors’ handwriting. Glad to know you had it back then even before you became a doctor,” he laughed. It was very uncharacteristic for Makoto to joke like that, but somehow, he knew that Sousuke would not take it to heart.

Embarrassment spread to the tips of his ears now, but Sousuke’s shoulders shook with mirth at Makoto’s good-natured jab. “Seriously, I don’t know what to say for myself.”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Makoto reassured. They had the chance to come across each other at TUH and that was already more than he could ask for. “We can become friends now. We met each other again, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke looked into his eyes then, before saying, “Or even close friends. I deserve better people in my life because Rin didn’t even know my sexuality and just assumed.”

Makoto tried not to let the giddiness in him show, only allowing a relieved smile on his face before he laughed at the complaint about Rin. “Of course. I’d love that.”

“Sweet,” said Sousuke, letting out a breath he’d been holding in with an audible exhale. “I have a lot of catching up to do with you. How was your time at the psychiatric ward? Even though I’m sure you did well on the exam, how was the experience? And congratulations on your licence! The me from seven years ago would have instantly replied with that and maybe brought you out on a celebratory dinner.”

Makoto was too excited about the catching up they’d be doing, so he blurted out his reply before he could be self-conscious about it. “It’s not too late for you to take me out on one now.”

“Really?” There was a lilt in Sousuke’s tone, to Makoto’s greatest delight. “Oh, I know! I should buy you a meal to congratulate you for the outstanding achievement of already being a manager at thirty. Will you be free tonight?”

Makoto gasped as he caught himself being inconsiderate. Sousuke was probably dead beat by now with the overnight shift he just finished, yet Makoto was being selfish and took up precious time that Sousuke could use to rest. “You must be so tired! It doesn’t have to be tonight, Sousuke.”

Sousuke smiled meekly and said, “But I have a lot to say and wanted to talk as soon as possible… Here, give me your number this time so I can be the one to reach out. I’ll arrange a time over text for us to get dinner?”

“That sounds good,” said Makoto, trying his best to not sound too eager or desperate at the opportunity. “I have time tonight.”

“I’d love to meet up today, but that’ll mean I better go home soon to freshen up. I wouldn’t want to look like a mess for something akin to our first date.”

Makoto had not imagined a day like this would come. He thought the only thing that warranted a congratulation at this moment would be the fact that his dream guy just asked him out.

To be continued on Day 7

#free! anime #soumako week #soumako #yamazaki sousuke #tachibana makoto #shigino kisumi #my writing

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elizabethshaw · 8 months ago

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20 questions for writers

i was tagged by @riversofmars (thank you!!)... feel like a little bit of a fraud doing this as i've had major writer's block for nearly two years now and have written virtually nothing during that time, but i'm gonna give it a go anyway 😅

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 :))

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

46,344

3. What fandoms do you write for?

doctor who! mostly leaning towards dweu/big finish stuff but i've written some new who fic as well in the past. (i've also been wanting to write something for the pleasant green universe audio series for a while now but as my major fixations on it have all coincided with the aforementioned writer's block that... hasn't happened lmao)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wy' ti'n dal i weld cysgodion yn y nos? (67 kudos)

in it together (23 kudos)

The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (22 kudos)

I Lie Awake And Watch It All (19 kudos)

og um vitt aldrin síggjast meir (18 kudos)

predictably, this includes all of the new who fics i've written, and (bar the third) almost none of the fics i'm actually most proud of lol 😅

(also feel a need to clarify here that the foreign-language titled fics are not actually in those languages, i just use song lyrics as titles a lot and for various reasons over half the music i listen to at any given moment is Not In English, hence the titles being as they are)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to! sometimes i'm a bit delayed with it (i know there's a couple i need to get around to answering rn but before today i hadn't been on my ao3 for... half a year at least?? so i'm a bit behind oops), but i like to get back to everyone who leaves a comment, just to say thanks :)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably hver fer sinn veg - it's set during "the war doctor begins", it was never going to be a happy one lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

gei di weld y byd mewn lliw, i think :)

8. Do you get hate on fic?

thankfully no! i've been lucky enough that my experience with fic writing/sharing has been very positive so far <3

9. Do you write smut?

no, it's not really my thing. smut is very honestly just kinda there to me, i don't have strong feelings about it either way, and so it's not something i've ever felt compelled to write yknow??

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope! i mainly prefer playing around with canon/canon-adjacent stuff tbh, i've got a couple of unfinished aus hanging around that will probably never see the light of day, but no crossovers that i can think of

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as i'm aware. though to be fair, i don't venture onto fic websites other than ao3 so i'll never know for certain. i doubt it though

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not as far as i know! i'd probably be chill with it though if anyone wanted to translate a fic of mine, provided they asked beforehand and it was one i was comfortable with being translated :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! the closest i've got is participating in an event run by a discord server i used to be mildly active in and am technically still part of, which was a lot of fun :D

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

i don't know if i really have an "all-time" favourite as such, but i've written a fair bit for liv and helen from the 8das, and really love their dynamic. i'm also a big fan of leela/romana, but for whatever reason i've never been quite able to make writing them work :/

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

there's a fair few 😅 the main one I can think of atm is the eldritch helen fic i vaguely remember being asked about on here a couple of years back, it's a concept that i still have a lot of interest in and love for, but i've never quite been able to get the fic itself to work and i fear it may be doomed to the wip pit for eternity :((

i've also got quite a few unfinished pieces of varying lengths with the war-veklin-albert tardis team from "the war doctor begins" hanging around my drive that i'd a) love to finish and b) probably won't; their dynamic and their whole deal as a team whose story takes place mostly off-screen and which we only see the ending of fascinates me. maybe one day i'll manage to do something with it

16. What are your writing strengths?

description :) this is the one thing i am ever consistently happy with in my writing (i am my own harshest critic <3), and i've got a couple of nice comments about it before. so!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue - even with characters i know well and whose voices i have clear in my head, i do find it difficult to make dialogue feel really authentic, and it's definitely something i tend to overly fixate on when i'm writing because i'm so conscious of wanting to get it right

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i'm totally fine with it! as long as it has a reason for being in the story, and isn't like. getting in the way of readers understanding what's going on, i don't see the problem.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

doctor who :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

it's probably a tie between The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (a fic i wrote back in 2021 based on this post about rory and helen theoretically being able to meet each other at the national museum during the pandorica arc, which i loved writing and am still really happy with nearly 3 years later), and mae cuddio dagrau yn fy ngwaed (a bit of a weirder/darker dreamscape-type story; it took a lot of puzzling things out to piece all the different parts together to make something that was cohesive but still felt strange or off in the way dreams do, but i was really pleased with the end result!)

can't think of anyone to tag off the top of my head who hasn't been tagged already, so i'll leave this free for anyone to take part if they want to! :)

#tag game #thanks again for the tag!!#feels a bit odd posting about my writing on here as i don't do it all that often but this was fun!! nice looking back on everything :)

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gaast · 1 year ago

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Since October 2022, I've been playing only one game at a time. That might not sound like much but for something that struggles to keep its number of concurrent games even at two, it's a pretty big deal. I did it because I wanted to commit to games, and to commit to finishing them. And for the most part, I've been successful.

As part of this, I've been tracking the games I've played and want to play, and I've been marking down the days I started something (usually) and the days I've finished them.

Now that this much time has passed, I've got a year's worth of games down, and I wanna do little write-ups for everything I played in 2023.

That means that anything I played in late 2022 (Silent Hill 2, Xenosaga Episode 1, Observation, and Red Dead Redemption, among others) can only get mentioned honorably here. But I'm gonna go through everything I started in 2023, beginning with:

Outer Wilds, January 1-January 7

What a way to start the year. Outer Wilds is unique and charming. It's really fun to fly through space in the awfulest space ship ever with the worst autopilot (have fun in the sun!) and check destroyed, abandoned planets, read ancient peoples' logs of their attempts to save the universe, and to be there at the end of everything.

Unfortunately: the fucking angler fish. I hate those fucks so bad that I actually didn't finish the game. I never brought X to Y (no spoilers) because I hate dealing with those guys. So I can't class this a perfect game. Those dudes need some changes.

Still, highly recommended.

The Sims 4, January 6-the ride never ends

I'm not gonna lie. This is just a sex thing for me.

Even still, I don't quite get why people hate it so much. I played the third game, too. This one's fine. This franchise isn't amazing. It's weird and held together by Scotch tape. I like that about it.

What a weird world.

Anyway, this must be around the time my ISP sent me emails telling me to stop pirating shit or they'd kick me off their plan, which would be bad because that ISP is the only one we can get in our building! Imagine being unable to work because you wanted TS4 DLC.

Bioshock, January 14-January 28, canceled

I couldn't do it.

This was my second attempt at getting through this game and I had to just admit that it's not for me. I didn't enjoy it. It was a chore. I decided to just set it aside.

Wish I hadn't paid for a PS4 copy when I already had a Steam copy. Ah well.

The Liar Princess and the Blind Prince, January 31-February 2

A very aesthetically-pleasing puzzleish platformer with a cute story and good music. I enjoyed my time with this simple little game.

Half-Life, February 3-February 5

You starting to see a pattern where I only manage to finish games, like, late at night, so I can't start a new one until later? Anyway.

This was my second attempt to get through this game. I did it this time, and I regret it. I didn't have fun.

I don't really know why I didn't have fun, I just didn't. Maybe the combat was too tedious. Maybe the jumping was too iffy. Maybe it just went on for too long. Maybe it's a case of "Seinfeld Is Unfunny." I don't know. I just know I don't like Half-Life.

So maybe I don't like the game, but I love the Headcrab Fucker 9000.

Poison Control, February 8-February 11

Sometimes you just wanna play a mid game.

Look, I like poison. I love pink. I love androgynous characters in suits. I like NIS. This game had it all. And it was perfectly. It made me want to stop playing a little while before it was over. It had a really good OST. I got the platinum trophy and I didn't feel satisfied.

I liked it. And sometimes that's enough.

This is the first on a small series of mid NIS-related games. I'll have more to say when I hit the other.

Grasping, February 15

Obviously I couldn't play this as intended, but it's not hard to imagine having shoved your hand into an awful box.

Anyway, this was good, I think. I don't really remember it.

The House in the Woods, February 15

Another horror game I absolutely do not recall playing.

Apocryphauna, February 15

I remember this one! It's good! I liked it! I wish there were more to it--like, a lot more. A lot lot more.

Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin, February 25-March 21

I held off on playing this for a long time because I had always heard it was "made by the B team" and "not as good as the other games." But I decided to play it. It was the gaping hole in my From résumé.

It's not as good. It has a ton of bosses and none of them are memorable except for a select few DLC bosses (Fume Knight, Sir Alonne, Sinh). It makes a lot of weird gameplay choices. It takes way too long for Estus sippies to heal you--like, in terms of the health bar going up. The Iron Keep is infuriating. So many of the runups are abominable. It runs with the clunkiness of Demon's Souls and Dark Souls despite having the svelte ambitions of Bloodborne and Dark Souls III. It has way too many sections where it just says, "okay, deal with a ton of enemies now."

And I loved it.

Honestly, this is probably my favorite of the three Dark Souls games. I think it is by far the most aesthetically complete game of the trilogy. It fulfills its own promise, you know? And I disagree with the people who call it bleak. I think it's the only game of the trilogy that actually offers hope. A real hope, too. One that says that, just because our struggle may not take us anywhere, at least our struggle itself is beautiful.

In a strange way, I think that Dark Souls II is the only Souls game that actually understands the Souls series.

"A lie will remain a lie."

Pokémon Violet, March 21-March 25

I didn't want to play this game. I didn't want to like it. I just wanted to play it. I love Pokémon. Sure, this wasn't a Pokémon game (according to me), but I wanted to play it anyway. The morning I finally decided to go for it, I had read that the professors were antagonists all along. How stupid!

And the reaction. Oh boy. All the glitches. All the performance issues. All the memes. What trash, right? Right?

I fell in love. I didn't think anything could unseat Gen 7 in terms of my love for a Pokémon generation, but honestly, this game might do it.

Did it need more time to cook? Absolutely. I'm not gonna sit here and say it should have been released as it was. No; it is in many ways a disaster, and it is certainly unacceptable.

But every inch of it oozes with love.

This game wasn't just shit out to make a buck. It feels that way at first, but no, everyone who had a hand in making the Gen 9 games absolutely loved what they were doing. You can feel it--from the sound design to the music to the character design to, fuck, everything. They did the best they could with what they had and they made one of the most charming, wonderful games I've had the pleasure of playing in far too long.

There is so much heart here. It convinced me that the future of Pokémon is still bright. Very much so.

Just... let's take a couple extra years to make the next one, all right?

Heroine Conquest, sometime in April

Look. It's actually pretty good.

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, March 31-April 18

I'll get this out of the way: I didn't really have fun.

The game has aged surprisingly well. Or Skyrim is just a truly unmotivated sequel. Either way, it holds up.

The problem is that I just don't think that TES games are for me. They're just so fucking boring. And I never end up liking literally any character in them.

I have fun actually playing for a while, but the general guideline with Oblivion is "don't level up." Fun! Either way, it's just rote after a while. Nothing really feels satisfying, and you're always worried something is going to break.

Frankly, the main story quest isn't compelling, either. With hindsight, knowing it'll lead to the rise of the Dominion again, it's like, well, shit.

Anyway, I played it. And it's certainly a game that you can play. If you wanna.

FEWAR-DVD, April 23

I called it "an arcade game" in my notes and that's basically what it is. Doesn't mean it isn't fun.

(Have you noticed I'm not reviewing games yet? It's write-ups; I'm giving my thoughts and impressions. Also, it's been a while, so I don't super remember a bunch of these. Oh well!)

Bleak Sword DX (Demo), April 23

I think I liked this? Apparently it's out. I should review it and see if I wanna get it at some point.

It looks pretty cool.

The Signal State (Demo), April 23

I liked this a lot because it's so unique and it taps into a specific type of autistic urge for me but god is its price tag just too high for what I suspect that it is.

Deltarune (Chapters 1 and 2), April 22-April 23

This was a replay of Chapter 1 and a first play of Chapter 2.

I think when I first played Chapter 1 I felt... you know, I didn't want Undertale, or a sequel to Undertale, but a secret third thing. And when I first played it in... late 2019? It wasn't whatever that secret third thing was. I liked it, don't get me wrong. But I think I didn't... get it?

Not to say I wasn't excited for me. It just took me a while to convince myself to finally get to Chapter 2 and to meet the funny spambot man.

Anyway, I won't bother spending too much time on Deltarune. I'll just say that in this play, I realized that Deltarune is that secret third thing, and that I think it's better than Undertale.

I'm scared.

Pizza Tower, April 14-April 23

I think I'm guilty of wanting this game to be something it isn't.

I wanted WarioLand, and it's like that, but it isn't precisely that. It isn't trying to be precisely that. It's trying to be Pizza Tower.

I like the game, but not as much as I thought I would. Not as much as I think I should.

I'll probably reply this game in a year or two and it'll click and I'll love it the way I was always meant to love it. But for now, I'll just let the "Tombstone Arizona" guitar impregnate me.

13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim, April 19-May 27

...It took me that long? Really? Huh.

Anyway, I love this game. I love love love it. I love the characters and the art style and the way they tell the story and the story itself and the gameplay (holy shit the gameplay!) and just. Man. I wish more games were just like this. Weird, experimental, talky, confident, cool, and unique.

This is the type of game that inspires you to write your own sci-fi. Or to write about its world. To think and to imagine.

And that's the best type of game.

Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown, May 28-June 6

Come to think of it, how can a sky be unknown. There's just the one.

As mentioned above, I played this after Ace Combat 2. With both of those under my belt, I now know: the way I want to play these games is not the way I'm supposed to play these games.

And that's fine. I feel like "gamers" nowadays are so fixated on the idea that games should let you play them however you wanna play them, and that if they can't accommodate that then they're somehow inherently flawed. It's like everything needs the mutability of Minecraft, the problem-solving freedom of Scribblenauts, and the role-playing depth of Dungeons & Dragons. If it doesn't score highly on all those axes, it's got problems.

Obviously, I disagree. Games can and should have "supposed tos." You should be expected to play a specific diegetic role. You should be limited (and by the way, you're always limited, so don't act like you aren't).

If I ever play another Ace Combat game (and I wanna play Electrosphere), I might do it on easy. I like these games but man do I not know how they want me to engage with them.

no-one has to die, June 4

I had to replay this Flash game that I had originally played once when I was probably 14.

I'm glad I did.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair, sometime in 2022-sometime in mid-2023

The strange thing about the Danganronpa games is that they're actually really good.

They shouldn't be. They shouldn't work. But they do.

This was kind of a replay. I had read most of the original orenronen LP back in... 2012, 2013? I only now have actually played it. And it's good. It's really good. I'm glad I went through it, and I'm glad I went through it with my fiancé, and I'm glad he knew nothing of any of the twists, and I'm glad I got to experience someone experiencing those twists for the first time.

SCARLET NEXUS, June 4-June 6, canceled

This was a second attempt after a first attempt in 2022 got deep into Yuito's story before I aborted it.

It's not for me. Not to say I don't like it--I do. A lot. I wish I could play this game. But I demand such fucking perfection from myself when playing it that I get too caught up by how poorly I'm playing to enjoy myself and actually let myself proceed.

I had to stop because I just wasn't having fun. I'm sad about it.

Risky Sanctuary, June 10

This is one of those games that I hope the developer comes back to, not to spruce up but to make anew. Because it's a really fun concept that basically got held back by being made in a month for a jam.

It really shouldn't take that long to clean come off of a wall.

HYPNOSCREEN, June 10

I keep forgetting I gotta play this more.

Parasite Eve, June 9-June 15

I'm still not super sure how I feel about this one.

The plot is fun but it never becomes compelling. There's an obviously evil scientist and he does obviously evil things. Never a good sign.

The gameplay is fun but it never hits nearly the level of intricacy and care that a close relative, Vagrant Story, does.

The dungeons are well-designed, though, and even if the setting is New York, it feels... fresh? It feels like NYC is always a backdrop in games and its specifics aren't important to it (see: Prototype). Parasite Eve actually cares that it's in NYC and it goes to locations there. The game feels like the developers enjoyed making it.

Also the OST is awesome. And Daniel fucking jumping out of the helicopter, getting lit on fire, throwing the bullets to Aya, landing in the water, and surviving is by far the coolest shit I've ever seen in anything ever.

This feels like a game you have to play at least once. I don't know why it feels that way; it just does.

WASTE EATER, June 17

It asks for like 20 minutes of your time and makes you cry. It's awesome.

EXPERIMENT: GROCERIES, June 17

I was more bored than spooked. It was a good try and maybe someone else will find it more fun than I did.

I'm sure if I replayed it and turned a critical eye to it I could talk at length about it. But I just don't want to.

I feel like if you're going to make uncanny the grocery store, there's other ways to do it.

Final Fantasy X: HD, sometime in 2023-sometime in 2023

We're about to see schedule issues. You'll find out why later.

This was, obviously, a replay.

I swear, this game gets better every single time I play it. I don't know what it is. It's such a smart, insightful game, with lovingly crafted characters. I love the inexorable northward journey, the feeling like you're constantly outrunning something even if you know you're running straight into the very thing you're outrunning.

Maybe it's because once you're aware of the spiral, its pull becomes that much stronger. I swear, I cry more with each playthrough, maybe because it just becomes all the more apparent how hopeless the journey is, and how much strength it takes to hope regardless. Yuna and Tidus are fantastic.

The gameplay ages like a fine wine, too. I know, it's turn-based, so it's hard to get clunky, but the game knows how it's being lenient to you and it knows just how to turn it against you. It's a system you can get better at. It's a game that rewards you in proportion to the time you're willing to put into it.

I don't need to tell you that FFX is a masterpiece, I hope. But it's worth reminding ourselves that it is. Because I think it's willing to be vulnerable in a way that most games just aren't anymore. I think the only Final Fantasy game that I've played that is more vulnerable than X is XIII. I respect the hell out of that.

(Speaking of, another honorable mention from the end of 2022 is my replay of the Final Fantasy XIII trilogy--and frankly, my love and appreciation for those games grew only deeper. They rule!)

You can talk about X forever. You can live in its world. It's fantastic, and it's always worth returning to.

Even if you have to make Yuna dance again, at least you know there'll be a time when she won't have to anymore.

Succubus Academia, September?-September 16

I tend to stay away from RPG Maker games, not for any valid reason but because creators, especially of eroge, tend not to really edit much. They end up looking fairly samey, with similar gameplay. Menus don't get edited, music is pretty bland, it's a fantasy setting... Exceptions exist, like Miwashiba's games ("that's a different engine!" yeah well they're still well-crafted despite being Made Like That) and, apparently Succubus Academia.

I won't tell you what tag I searched to find it on DLSite but anyway, I found it, I got it, I played it, and I loved it.

The map graphics are standard RPG Maker fare, sure, but the battles are totally custom and they're actually really fun. The music, though, the music fucking rules. I was there to bust a move, not bust a nut, I swear.

The concept is really fun too. "The only way to proceed is to literally get killed the right way. Sorry! But hey, at least you'll save the world. Snrk." Coupled with a battle system that actually has a really fun push-pull kind of resource management/health system, it just works. It helps that the battles all have Live 2D animation work going on, too.

Give this one a shot (no pun intended) if you like eroge. Seriously.

Dohna Dohna, sometime in September?-sometime in October

All right, look. It's not the best at anything. But it's pretty good at everything.

The character designs rule. The color palettes are awesome. The gameplay is fun. The OST is actually pretty outstanding. The combat is really fun. The mechanics are interesting. The writing has a lot of care put into it.

Alicesoft wanted to celebrate its anniversary and they were welcome to do it. I enjoyed celebrating with them.

Kirakira best girl. Even if Joker is truly best girl.

Baldur's Gate 3, sometime in October-November 14

One of the first sounds you hear in this game is a Wilhelm scream. This is a subtly masterful introduction to the game, as it signals to attentive players a lot about the artistic experience they're about to embark on: It will be more or less the same as everything else they've ever experienced, just remixed so it will hopefully be less noticeable.

And that's the thing. We've seen everything that BG3 does before, over and over, and we're so used to seeing all of these signs and tropes that it's actually become difficult to tell when they're being used poorly. BG3 throws so much of the same old shit at the wall and it can only stick because the shit that's there from last time still hasn't dried.

But here's the thing: I don't even know if any of its shit sticks. It's all so bad.

For instance, the party. Each individual party member is a collection of about 3 traits, plus their own unique brand of "horny for you." They're about as complex as late-stage Tales characters, but they have way less charm because they don't have anything like skits to round them out. In fact, because there's no guarantee that you'll have X or Y party member, or that they'll be present for conversation A, your party doesn't really have conversations together so much as they just talk through you like you're a telephone. You don't really have a party. You are a guy who has friends.

So you drag along this uninteresting, blandly-designed crew of the same fucking shit you've seen a billion times (literally one dude's whole thing is "I'm a vampire and I have vampire problems") who never really engage with each other (they'll maybe trade quips here and there, and they've got some dialogue they'll run through ambiently when specific ones are in the party together, but it's clear that This Does Not Matter) through a pretty standard fantasy world that by its own popularity offers little novelty. As you do so you meet asshole upon asshole who has a quick trait or two and says things in a European accent and maybe you'll get the scummiest Narrator I've ever heard say something smarmy based on a passive roll you'll probably fail mid-conversation. Go kill some shit and come back and maybe I'll try to help you not die. Idiot.

But you can't not die. You need to keep dying, and people need to keep failing to help you not die, or people need to keep trying to kill you because you're dying the wrong way for them, or else there'd be no reason to have the game. Honestly, if you lost the tadpoles before you killed the final boss, like, two party members would probably just outright try to kill each other, and everyone else would fuck off back to their shitty little lives, except for the ones who managed to escape their shitty little lives, in which case I guess the adventure continues! I don't feel like any of these people, with maybe three exceptions, would actually keep litigating the campaign if their lives weren't on the line.

But hey, even if almost every time someone speaks it's just to either whine about how hard they have it or to criticize you for a choice you made or to give you a quest because everything in Faerûn is your fucking problem, at least you get to have the gameplay! At least you get to slog through some of the most bullshit combat encounters they can throw at you with their barely-working mess of a battle system! With the most boring bosses imaginable save one! (Why is Gortash the only fun boss? Why does he get to have those explosives systems that aren't anywhere else?)

But oh, you get to make so many choices! You can be whoever you want, so long as they're someone who'll make any of these specific choices. Fuck off.

Meanwhile the music makes you want to fucking tear your hair out because I swear to god every single track uses the exact same leitmotif and it is so boring. Oh my god this game takes absolutely no fucking risks with anything. There's no fucking reason to play this thing. It's miserable. It's miserable, it'll make you save scum, its loading times (to load saves; loading areas is quick as can be!) are atrocious, and every time you have an option to pick something cool, you get fucking despised for it. You can become a fucking mind flayer and the game makes sure to tell you you're a complete fucking scumbag for doing it.

I hate this game. I hate it so fucking much. It is so bad and it has nothing redeemable in it and it has nothing noteworthy in it and worst of all it is just not at all fun. It's awful.

Game of the Year. Play it.

Monark, November 25-December 3

Time to fulfill the promise I made back with Poison Control.

This game is good. It's not great. Maybe it's pretty good. I liked it a lot. I enjoyed playing it.

Does it have problems? Sure. Could they be easily corrected? Yep. Does that hamper my perception of it? Of course.

As I said, sometimes you just wanna play a mid game.

After I finished Monark, I checked out its TV Tropes page, and I of course linked to "So Okay, It's Average." The Quotes page on that trope all seem to imply that just being all right is somehow worse than being bad.

I can't agree with that.

First of all, I think the binary of "good" and "bad" art is a false one. There's value in literally all art. There's something to mine, to find, to take home, to use, to learn--to whatever--in everything. Meaning and worth aren't exclusive to the good.

Maybe something isn't as good as it could be, but it's certainly what it is, and nothing else is as good at being it. Monark maybe isn't a great game but it's awesome at being Monark. I doubt any other game could compare.

So many articles from game writers and journalists lament the concept that "there's so many great games out there that it's just impossible to want to make time for anything that isn't great." That's... such a sad state, to me. Imagine playing a game only because it is considered "great." Imagine needing everything you play to have an award or a green Metacritic score just so you'll make time for it.

I don't think these writers mean to do this when they say it, but they're really benefiting a capitalist mindset. Companies have to do everything they can to get your attention. They have to make "great" games, or you won't play them. They need hype machines. They need stellar reviews. They need people talking. They need public reception to manufacture their game's own greatness, so that it will be great and then be played and then make money. If the incentive to get good reviews is to make money then the game is just a product and it wasn't made to be art.

I don't think people purposely set out to make shitty games or average games. I just think they set out to make the game they make, and the question is how well they achieve that goal. And that's entirely personal. It's something that only the creators can decide.

But in the end, some of the creators are producers and directors and executives at publishing companies who look at games in terms overhead, costs, projected income, earnings statements, financial reports.

But these are the people who make great games. Because they have to money to spend to make them great, the clout they need to keep exploiting their specific workers, and the agents necessary to make sure that reviewing publications will be predisposed to helping make their game great (you know, like what Nintendo relies on pretty much exclusively). The game doesn't have to be good. People just have to be told that it is, and then when enough people believe, they'll police the narrative so much that others will be scared to voice their opinion without getting a ton of clown emojis in their inboxes.

I'm not saying that's every "great" game. I'm willing to argue it's probably most Games of the Year as determined by Big Industry Figure Geoff Keighley, though (borne out for sure with 2022's winner; Elden Ring is so mediocre, dude).

Anyway, there's no need to play all the "great" games that are out. You know what you can play instead? The games you want to play.

You don't have to agree with me that sometimes you just wanna play a mid game. But you'll probably agree that sometimes you just wanna play a specific game. Good, bad, or mid, it's what you want to play because it, in some way, speaks to you.

That's all you need.

Mediterranea Inferno, December 4-December 6

Until now, I was cautious about pandemic stories.

The problem has always been that, sure, the lockdown happened for a year (in the US, at least), but it was only a year. It was major, to be sure, and I'm not downplaying that, but in the grand scheme of human history, it was a year. There's no guarantee (or even, necessarily, reason to believe) anything like it will happen again for a long time. So, I thought, how applicable could stories that come from it be to the future?

Don't get me wrong, I always recognized that in the lockdown was stories about isolation, grief, illness, fear, loss. But those are all distinctly human things we've been writing about since we could write. They weren't unique to the pandemic. Why use the very specific imagery of the lockdown to tell a story about those things when there's definitely more universal things to use?

I'm, as always, an idiot.

Beyond just the fact that it was an event and we'll never stop needing to take stock of it, to examine it, to see who we were and became through it, the pandemic was a world-ending phenomenon, a sea change, a new way of understanding ourselves, or misunderstanding ourselves, or misunderstanding others.

Mediterranea Inferno is about having lost yourself. The lockdowns made three young Italian men lose themselves, and when they came back together in 2022 they found that they had lost each other, too. It presents continuity with their histories: their self-destruction wasn't inevitable, but the pandemic forcing them to grapple with their places in life created living nightmares of isolation, grief, powerlessness, loss of identity, and loneliness.

When you start a new game, a card informs you that the creator made it "about his generation." He seems to think that we're lost, not in the way that the Lost Generation was, but in a different way. Whereas in the 1920s we lost faith in symbols, institutions, and humanity, in the 2020s we lost faith in ourselves and each other.

It's terrifying to admit that we can't do this alone, and that the crutches we always used to get through each day were other people. Claudio relied on his family name; it lost all meaning when his father blew his inherited fortune, revealing that there isn't necessarily a continuity between past success (Nino) and the present. Mida relied on the ways he could keep people at arm's length and when he couldn't get closer to the only person he wanted to grow closer to, he decided that others were there for him to take. And Andrea was never able to identify precisely what he needed from other people to keep him going, mistaking sex and skin-deep pleasure for the validation he so desperately craved.

Of course, if one of them gets accepted to Heaven during the Assumption, one of the others kills their friends and, in one case, accidentally himself. And if none of them make it--or if all of them do--they tell themselves that they're no longer friends. They walk away. They fall to the ground. They feel, sharply, the absence. They try to feel it in the crutches they replaced each other with (the past, the prestige, the plenty). But it isn't there.

Alternatively, if they suffer enough, they can give their spiritual guide through their pain an opportunity as well, and through him learn that they went through all of it to encourage them to revolt against their fathers, against the endless history that suffuses every rock in Italy. Paraphrasing: "There's never been an Italian Revolution. We've always been satisfied with what our fathers gave us, so long as we had permission to kill our brothers." He, like so many, wanted the pandemic to become a watershed moment, one that spurred on change, made the world a better place.

And the Sun Guys reject it. Their revolt is to refuse to be told what to do.

Just give them time to figure out what to do next.

I don't think you can tell this story without the pandemic.

This game is bleak. It's harsh. The style is immaculate. The soundtrack rules. Play it.

Assassin's Creed: Valhalla, June 16-ongoing

Here is why the schedule slipped.

I like this game a lot. I burned myself out on it. Over the course of months.

I'm still not done. I'm not letting myself uninstall it until I'm done.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Pokémon Fool's Gold, unknown

The new music was great and the sprites were awesome and I love Eris. But to me this was mostly a fun new way to experience Gen 2. That's not a bad thing, really. Gen 2 isn't great, but there's a lot about it to love.

Pokémon Unbound, unknown

This and the previous entry are the only two Pokémon mods or fangames or whatever that I've ever played. I'm glad I started here!

If you're into playing fangames or whatever you know about this one and you know it rules. I'm not gonna bother praising it directly, though I'll say it earns all the good things said about it.

For me, projects like these really remind me of why we're still drawn to the Pokémon series even when the people in charge of it keep making pretty drastic decisions. I've said for years that the series is for kids and that it's not only fine but right to keep its focus firmly on kids, but Black and White proved that we can actually have our cake and eat it, too. We can have a game for kids that is also just flat-out a good game.

But for some reason, even if I ended up loving Gen 7 more than I did Gen 5, I feel like it's harder to call Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon good games? It's more like I can call them good Pokémon games. But are they good games?

I want them to be.

But what I want Pokémon games to be is totally different from what anyone else wants Pokémon games to be. Fool's Gold and Unbound confirmed that to me. I mean, I always knew it was true, but they confirmed it. What surprised me about them was that they were also good. That even if they weren't my vision, I still enjoyed them as a vision for Pokémon.

But to return to what I said a few paragraphs ago: We're still drawn to Pokémon because in each new entry we find more promises. We find new things to enjoy, to marvel at, to wonder about, to fill in. Every new mainline entry, especially since Black and White, feels like a new reinterpretation of what Pokémon is and can be, and even if we as fans don't always agree, we still have the conversation and we're still often compelled enough by something in the new interpretation that we hang onto it and let it be a part of what Pokémon is to us.

For as much as it stays the same, Pokémon is very much a living franchise, one that changes and, no pun intended, evolves. Maybe it does so in different ways than we might want, but there's nothing stopping us from knowing better. Well, nothing except Nintendo, a company that is more than welcome to fucking die immediately.

Pokémon, both the franchise and its fan works, is constantly grasping toward perfection. But we all know that perfection doesn't exist. We head towards and we know that we'll fail and we also know that even if we were to attain perfection, we'd reject it. Perfection is an illusion, a cruel one; even were it not, it would still be cruel, a poison pill. Real beauty isn't in perfection, it's in striving for it knowing you'll fail. It's about being weak, bad even, useless even, and still being loved. It's about trying, hard, getting nowhere close, and smiling afterward. It's about working together to make something new, something that loves, something that brings us all together to love even harder. It's about the struggle; it's about the effort; it's about the handshake after the battle.

Wherever Pokémon goes, no matter who's propelling it along, it'll be Pokémon. And that's what I want.

#long

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namboobieslover · 1 year ago

Text

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 4

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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CHAPTER 4: Don't worry, honey.

Word count: 1867

Does she want to play? Let’s play then. I prepare her usual rum with cola; she drinks that like water. For me, I’ll go on with more whiskey.

-There you go -I offer her the glass as I speak- Your favourite.

She tries it and it must be strong because the reaction is her nose scrunching, elevating her glasses with that action.

It’s not my fault since she intently tries to avoid wearing them in public, but I’m still a little surprised. She has this nerdy look that fits her really well, kinda… cute.

I love it when she goes totally science mode, telling me about these things I don't fully understand but makes her fascinated. I get fascinated with her. Most of the time I can't even follow her rhythm or I just stare at her with a blank face, the passion she shows being the only thing I can focus on. Me and my ADHD brain.

-Tell me if I'm wrong but the "love story" -she remarks with her hands- is then resolved.

-I guess. Or maybe… should we talk a little more about details?

-Yeah, lots of coworkers will have insatiable questions about this. Usually, when they ask about it, I just say "Uh, long story. I'll tell you about it when time accompanies". I didn’t want to be detailed about it because I'm not good at lying, nor at remembering things; especially lies.

-You made the right decision. What do you prefer: making up the whole story from scratch or should we add things we would like in those situations? To feel more natural.

-Maybe half and half. We can invent the story and progressively incorporate things we imagine in that type of situation; better if we coincide.

-Works for me -I agree- As we said the first meeting can remain as it was.

-Yeah

-Then, the fictional part should start in university and the whole living together thing.

-About the place… it's safer to say that we live in mine; my coworkers may have access to some of my personal information.

-That's true, but just in case, to justify you going in the opposite direction to eat in Mrs Lin's place… what about saying that we lived first here and then moved to yours?

-That's brilliant… babe.

Even though she struggles with the nickname, the more we say it, the less weird it feels (even if it's just a little little little amount). I should start to practise too, so… little devil on my shoulder comes with a plan.

-Minnie, I have an idea.

-Tell me.

-It's normal because we are not used to it, but we are struggling more than we should with the nickname thing. What do you think about playing a game?

She fights a smile and the competitiveness fills her eyes.

-I'm all ears.

Sure you are.

-We must say one of the agreed names at every natural chance we have. If we forget and the other notices it, the one that failed must drink a shot. It finishes when this night does. Starting from…now.

-Are you ready to lose?

-uh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be ready to WIN once you take your first shot, honey.

She doesn't even deny it once she realises it.

-Let's keep on, babe -she quickly says after drinking it- now that we have stabilised where we lived and live now, how we discovered that we were in love?

-Well, you were the first one to take the first step. What kind of things make you act that way? As I said I know about your lack of patience, but being more specific…?

She seems deeper in thought while trying to figure it out.

-Well… the first thing that comes to mind is the other person avoiding the subject. I don't like receiving mixed signals and then acting like nothing happened; it confuses me and my anxiety gets bad. I need to sort out the situation because if not… I start to doubt myself and my criteria, like wondering if I'm seeing things where I'm not supposed to. Time and health consuming.

-That implies that I'm the one that gave you those mixed signals? -I assume.

-Yeah. It's realistic how hard it would be to change the kind of relationship from besties to partners. As reserved as you are, the absence of answers in that field fits you well. Being honest… you look like the type that doesn't care about this stuff.

I drink from my cup. Even if I try, I can't find a reason to feel hurt by her words. Yes, kinda reflects this image everyone has of me or what I guess I project.

What she says is true and hasn't the intention to hurt me, but it still stings something deep inside me.

-What's wrong? -she cautiously asks.

-What? - I feel lost.

-I can tell something is bothering you.

Should I say it?

-It's just… I -I do care about those things. Do I really give this cold impression that no one can imagine I have feelings too?

I have never felt so exposed, but her face changing from a disoriented expression to a warm one calms me.

-Of course not - she says softly reaching my arm with her hand- I mean… maybe if a stranger meets you for the first time you give disinterested vibes, but once someone has the chance to meet you they can see that you are just an observer.

-Really?

-Yes, Yoongs. I think your character is one of the things I like the most about you.

-Why?

She finishes her drink before answering, trying to get all her thoughts together.

-Sorry if you have felt this way and I didn't notice; what a bad friend I am. In my defence, you should have told me earlier -she playfully hits me- But I will tell you now and don't let it go up to your head.

-This is going to be interesting.

-Shut up before I change my opinion -she warns me with fully red cheeks.

- Sorry

-Maybe we should continue deciding the next step?

-C'mon, what were you going to say? Why do you like my behaviour?

She huffs a big amount of air, her face resembling a tomato once again.

-I think that the way you act makes you interesting.

-How come?

-When I see you deep in thought I can't help but wonder what you are thinking about. What is so fascinating that makes you dissociate? Which is your opinion on common things you don't outside-ly react to? Feels intriguing; a mystery yet to resolve. Your ability to remain calm in whatever situation it's reliable and comforting. You have your ways.

-I do?

She snorts while another cup of alcohol is served by herself.

-Of course you do. Min Yoongi, to my expert eye you don't have that many secrets. Maybe I can't figure out daily things but I can do the important ones. Like, I know how you don't feel comfortable giving away love words or contact gestures. But I know how you take care of everyone in every little way you can: acts of service it's called.

Nobody has ever told me they were paying attention to what I do to the point of noticing that. Feels new and exciting.

-You think that for real?

-Of course. Have I ever lied to you?

-There was this time in 12th grade when you snuck out to meet with… what was his name?

-That's irrelevant right now and that was just a little white lie. I'm sure you wouldn't like to hear me talking about the plan I had to escape through my window just so I can lose my virginity.

-That's true.

Fucking. Kim. Taehyung. Nice guy but terrible at managing his relationships with girls.

-Anyways… have I ever lied to you about something important?

-No that I'm aware of.

-Then just accept the compliment so I can breathe, honey.

She seems a little ashamed to have admitted that she likes my interior world, but I'm not one in the position to laugh at it: I don't know why but I find myself a little flustered. Seems like my own game it's turning against me.

-So… you pay attention to what I do or not, hm? -I joke in a flirting tone

-Not on purpose -she fights me while a deeper scarlet flourishes all along her face- most of the time it's just frustrating and I wanna hurt you real bad. Why would you give me the medication when hungover but offer them to me without looking me in the eye? Like it's nothing? It makes me feel ridiculous.

-Why? -now I'm concerned.

-Because… because…

What started as a joke seems to have touched a sensitive spot for her. Are tears what I see? She sniffles a little.

-Sometimes I feel like everything is out of my hands; like I can't keep everything in order without failing. Even this whole situation… I can’t resolve a struggle I made myself without other people's help. You are always taking care of me and I don't know how to pay you back. I feel useless and every time you help me, I just want to tell you that I appreciate the gesture… the way you act like "it's just routine" makes me feel weak and stupid.

-Oh sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.

-No worries; how could you have known if I had never told you anything about it? You are not a mind reader. So… blame is on me.

Lately, I've been so focused on my work that I didn't take what my friend felt into consideration. I feel bad, even if all the hurting wasn't intentional. Sadly, I'm not brave enough to admit that if I act that way it's because I feel ashamed to show my genuine feelings. How much I care about her well-being and how endearing his little demeanours are to me. But I'm sure that she knows this and all she has expressed now is the result of all the pressure she is going through. I do the best that comes to my mind: I wrap my arms around her torso and force her to be part of the sandwich conformed by my strong arms and my chest.

-I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. -I wish for my hold on her to reflect how truly sorry I am.

I feel her body instantly relax. She feels warm while I feel cold; it must be the alcohol. Or it's just the physical representation of what we are. I don't know. All I know is that hugging her feels nice, right and the only thing in this world that deserves my attention now.

-You know Yoongles, I could never be angry with you. As I said, I know you enough to see the real you and is marvellous. You shouldn't hide it. I wish everyone were able to see your real side.

But you do (I want to say but don't have the courage to) and on Thursday- well, not Thursday but already Friday if we are exact- at 1:23 am, that's all that matters to me.

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A/N: Hell yeah, we love a sensitive king!

This must be a record hahaha. Since this one and the previous one were shorter, I thought that uploading double would be the right thing. I hope you still like it, and if not, please let me know in the comment section. Have a good day or night :)

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chicagosfinest2021 · 2 years ago

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My followers don't ask me anything so I'll just answer some stuff on my own LOL

1:Virgin? No but I might as well be at this point LOL Actually sometimes I wish I was a virgin. . .

2:Shoe size 9.5 Too short for my feet to be so big IMO. . .

3:Do you smoke? Just meats

4:Do you drink? Casually/socially

5:Do you take drugs? Does melatonin count?

6:Age you get mistaken for Early to mid 20's

7:Have tattoos? No

8:Want any tattoos? No, I like my chocolate brown skin the way it is :-)

9:Got any piercings? Just my ears

10:Want any piercings? MIght do my navel later

11:Best friend? My slightly younger sister <3

12:Relationship status Perpetually single

13:Biggest turn ons Money going into my bank account

14:Biggest turn offs Money leaving my bank account

15:Favorite movie It was Bend It Like Beckham but Wakanda Forever is a close 2nd (only because the former came out first)

16:I’ll love you if YOU FEED ME!!

17:Someone you miss My maternal grandmother (RIP)

18:Most traumatic experience Being SA'ed by different men

19:A fact about your personality I'm a social introvert; I'll hang out around people for a few hours and have a good time as long as I can get 3-4 days to myself afterwards to recuperate/recharge

20:What I hate most about myself I procrastinate too freaking much

21:What I love most about myself I'm thicc AF!!

22:What I want to be when I get older The single, rich, fun auntie

23:My relationship with my sibling(s) Me and my full sister are basically twins and our souls are tied together, living in different states has taken a toll on us mentally. We have a younger half sister whom we didn't know about until about 10 years ago. We love her but the circumstances behind her birth makes our relationship more tricky and we're not as close.

24:My relationship with my parent(s) They are my life. I'm a mommy's girl and a daddy's girl

25:My idea of a perfect date I honestly don't have one

26:My biggest pet peeves Unnecessary noise. Like right now my neighbors keep slamming the door that leads to the stairway right next to my unit because they refuse to gently shut the door like they've got some sense

27:A description of the girl/boy I like Other than celebrity crushes, I don't like anyone right now haha

28:A description of the person I dislike the most Can't think of anyone specific right now

29:A reason I’ve lied to a friend I love my best friend but she and I have very different lifestyles and philosophies about life, I won't necessary lie to her but I'll keep my mouth shut about certain things just to keep the peace between us (and it isn't easy).

30:What I hate the most about work/school I actually like what I do for the most part, but more money would always be a plus obviously

31:What your last text message says "We're sorry, your order from Taco Bell was cancelled. . ."

32:What words upset me the most Actions tend to hurt me harder than words do

33:What words make me feel the best about myself "You can't be fixed because you were never broken in the first place"

34:What I find attractive in women Emotional intelligence

35:What I find attractive in men Emotional intelligence

36:Where I would like to live If I couldn't continue to live in the Chicago area I'd like to live in Northern Europe, someplace where it's cold most of the year haha

37:One of my insecurities My stomach isn't flat :-(

38:My childhood career choice I think I shifted back and forth between a piano player and a writer.

39:My favorite ice cream flavor I actually don't eat ice cream a lot but I've heard good things about rum raisin. . .

40:Who wish I could be I actually like being myself, it's pretty dope

41:Where I want to be right now I want to be at my parents house with my parents, my sister and her daughter my niece, laughing, talking and listening to music

42:The last thing I ate A McGriddle from McDonalds LOL

43:Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately Cross between Letitia Wright and Tenoch Huerta Mejia (Alex Livinalli as a runner up)

44:A random fact about anything England is a constitutional monarchy and only their parliament can make the laws , the royal family has no real power or purpose and actually costs the country money.

#chicagosfinest

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libidomechanica · 4 months ago

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“The hills of silent shades of golden hour for private”

A curtal sonnet sequence

Be neither mine; a life that lay the clouds. Bright, or with your limbs and sweet, rings Eden threaded some one: the sun.-Grown energies of bridal flower of her legs I drew figs. And where the boughs, where else shallop, floating soul. The hills of silent shades of golden hour for private sorrows flow; and self, so I was obviously a forlorne? Ill brethren, bleating: Winder of the Sorrow, cruel destiny content to its wounded heart.

So now fayre flown, for unremembered star, thou roll’st above these men are they know; for knows why we are the crowd of she knew the new, ring, half expression—cannot say that much. The laughed at in the fields and ways? To hear the Dead, and fluctuate all that bounty from its rocky cave e’er tripped with your life. Twas better Fortune may try. Lie foreshorten’d in peace: so that vague desire; yet feels, as in mirror through, clasp and sad.

Now ryse vp Elisa, decked at their proud was half bare, warm French perfume, and string. Nay, laugh when we first her eyes; in earth a bald streams. Stand helpless discontent to many worlds, so much lov’d friend among mankind, poor rivals in the true, and with an ease my pleasant spot in whispering, choking, drowning cup, the two great plans: yet speak an idle think the inverted back return I take to your eyes, gender and gray, the soft Sh!

Hum about me; and all ye gentle winds that are we two must be all about the hearer in its fiery courses of the suns. Do you said something stem—save that she ran, hear us, great cats close round the ground; confusion worse than Dead, depriv’d of Thessaly: some on wing, lingered species, on! So lovely street, but for the grandeur of the lists they fled? A noise about the voice, that then will whispers, in its chipped and whole young.

His nervy knees and mine own land for ever narrow days, of a youth and get the thoughts to her goe. Was drown’d with joyful cries, that on which makes bread out one night with thy balmy air, see the sweet and to be; and we’ll live—such virtue hath made the same, simple sports with good conceives how tiptoe Night well might all beside the names are beset with you there were as in mine; strange, although the tree, nor human neighbor. With mid- day heat.

Completed forms of speech two negatiues affirme! Tho’ truths in many a flutters unto those who slumbrous rest: whether the sky like her I go; I cannot say whatever happen to you it was but a wife ere noon? View and loyal unto its crystal ball, by blood run upward, working in my deeds to come, quick while thy marble flood of sister: of all you among. Yet knows not why, nor can it foote to the air: is this?

Strait is to bear thro’ the high perfect note. Out through the dumb-sister Jane; in bed she moanings of Satanic power, the herald Hesperus away, then are hard sky limits. Mid-sentence, but by year to year before my helpless eye, silent; but when I have known, dead to fold, of mountain to man, and the world grew like a line you must be cured besides that breath to myriads more, tho’ follow, from them together I would have them?

Twelve steps of Age, trod down by gladness like a beacon in the plain, at noon or when the valiant man and drivers in rank come Down, O Maid cradle sheep. See what I have tossed irresolute steals a silence and so laid the aged priest eyed them something else, you have imaginative land. This ditties sigh above the hues are animals, well enough,&then into bounds of faith, but patient level mead, and soul abroad, he can.

’Twas better used to call the same; and no one answer. With overthrow. A hand to turned half of life and descended from reddened eve he views the rill. And therefore we wreathe a thousand flowers, before we went free: the cabin-window he hoped some bare-headed bubbles in her milky way among familiar names, and the much- beloved face, for more completed for a chosen bow: and, when they send: for each year the rill.

How many gazers might, nay more, Peona! Till over down, till Pan and his last are circumstance, at last year’s bitter scorn drew from the best wits still garden! You said, Sweet you. Love, first thy burthen the silent fingers; pour thy soft nervelets were wan and fair Syrinx—do thou no roses; and one fine morning; but there; and in the all-golden honeycombs; our visit. And not to do is wrought; nor can I dreamed I stood like a fish.

-Shores by my strange flower, shining fair, poor child: I found his lips uncurled and chaff, and create, and ancient games had place, the tents with power and my past, making worse than a gin rummy is a Roarer, plunge your third, look for you is here, my lover’s eyes bronze valves, and flowers, her slim hand reach in treasury, as I in it recite. He asks not the whispering blades of Nature know how vertue, I could not from each other’s gain.

—Felt too, I was afraid, stood stupefied with those command is Nature’s breathe my loss in his comfort me. Then, whether or not the strange overgrowth; bethinking although evening has the clothed with an awed face, as parting foam; your battle: kiss her; take her I say: is this beuie of Latona, which inward sunne to have strown it, and can find, ere yet that was suddenness did not, to a race of youth, and silver throat. In endless shore.

Us, the Shadow fear’d of children’s cries, who touch thy lost desire speak? To put a kiss, thou tread’st with the Fantom of his name is Shame, but for a flightless range was love filled with thoughts to envelope those though it overtop your great head—for he is become a sweeter seeing that fed or arm that bears immortal too. Let us go: your crooked heart. Of heauen is to guide philosophy: looke at my head thee lying lips?

The prophecyings rave round him worthier to be loved myself have heaved a wind of memory. Tones ravisher through this hour when first by them for teeth. Say bulldaggers blindly run; a web is wov’n across your pity is enough, soon enough for one— all people who are wrong the Early Season satisfied—then for reply, seven boys and high in heavy heart rouses thinking at the oaken log lay on their merriment.

Have thought she should have been falling, should sting us fancy set, where in due time thou canst not cry to you. My arms fit you like that dances of the bird into the solid- set, and, crowned souls; they had sail’d below. Where we to draw him home—mothers that like a Bow, but Arrow-like in Flight, your sheepwalk up the brain; I heard not this. Echoing grottos, full of the soil, left behind: return, to fill or mend the spirit melts. And man.

So draw him home thrice again but it must part will not see them all, one at a touch your head, each under the masterfully rude, that swift or slow draw down Æonian hills, yet slays me with dew? The tide ebbs in sunshine, or gloom o’ercast, thro’ life of my loss is come, my sweet, if human frailty do me wrong that saps the mountain freshly into boundless as their arms, descend the God curst sun, and she that earlier, the luster fades!

By Phoebus thrust out of the sycamore; how often, hitherward every gaze upwards from shepherds to naebody cares than the wine, and whining, and shook to see another’s life, I knew a beautiful olives. The vast abyss: whatever happens with tender human strife come in forest crack’d, the glass; bring her breast, and wrings will be the foliaged elms, and humming a triple hour, O Love, I striven half thy draught besides.

My spear aloft, as signal for the weariness, all-subtilising in thy way, but that Virgins, then complain. We leaves about the drains he’d met her Remembered the man; you wrought could breathe, with me now and swung the Eagle the Flame that heart the sky. Of bright; and the trembling knee and thro’. Were taken fairy phantasies to and frost, that they will never dim and dippest toward her bosom erst: henceforward count the enchanting.

The Grandmother the blacke face so stremes the keen seraphic flame up the breathed with fancies like a flower to the ditty. Enrich they are but to be made, and tuft with aught else, aught the first, but over all our lord. Join our necks, we glided winding rice, of salt, of freedom in her hunger mouthed, and sow the sea. A hollow cheek with showers and sighes stormed be! Thy tablets round the mornings, morning; but there; abiding love.

I feel her groan; where quince and gone, ankle, touch the small knuckle on my knees then brake the rooms of a romantic rose, full of high and feel, tho’ widow’d hour sharp pittances on the village greene embellish paine, of a youth who loves and line by link, my chain of after them then showed the unquiet heart is full of fire. Once her with face vnarmed marcht, either chances in the desert in the tip-top, there came too, joining life closet.

Scarce seen it and the railway: love has no ending, so to bring me this, or was no more than a gin rummy is a breath is six days long. And the start a scene or two, advise the night in gold with Psyche, sorrows freshly alive, a lad plays with amber studs, my hunting larks, to this ardent listless spirit’s inner vileness he seemed, or simple heart, as now; day, mark’d of me: then she wearing the less—so lovely young flame.

Of rimless feast, then, a dream? Not all: the soul exults, and fitful whims of sloth; nor any want-begotten fields of May poetry left on in their death; and think that are seen to truths transfers to the king in the couering over him grew tall as dead: o let me die, and they look’d about the dreadful leisure of wearied mind draw forth of Christmas heard No hungry general onslaught. Feel safe then—i never knew the new vastness.

But, but as servants in a circling row, with one life began to slant the sands, adown yon windingly by it, so they shed along the leader of the Nine, one would do. And set thy leaden looks: the solid- set, and break. Since first her silver at my face salutes them riding sense gives it not for thee. The low dark velvet edges them— maidens with dark tree the vapour sail and passion poesy, glories, and make old bitter scorn.

Witch-elms that slides along; and through the scale of racing to run off with these enfold is given to hide. Dry flame of gentle roar that succeeds it; by the quiet pain for unremember, and freesing firmly set on Vertues great snake, whose ragged brow: thou shall rise and red wine-spilith that to meet it, with words: nor did mine are seven! Whose session-—swung the darkness of touch I yield; this should have golden hair there we hurried in.

So rapt I was noise of sorrow shut, or breast, and pledge of my harmful deeds. What which be they know transport, gentle heaven, and some Socratic dream; for words, and sea and sky, till all at ocean’s roar: but bound thy changes on that I have ears in virgins, then these kings we embrace, believe me. And graven with dew? And touch or hold hands. She has really two ages. Conduct by paths are in her throat along with you entombed in you.

Ay me, the twilight, drawn after a time. And so it seemed borrow frae naebody! Her carriage lay; in that is drawn to her your Highness—verily I think and bright in light. ’Re wet with a wife. At night keep herbage; and now and read the common is the cool depth.&Then into frightful bard sits lonely thought otherwise,—past whirling pillar steadfastness. To those faire of nearness increase of men. Flower beat with ease the daisies.

To where is about her breast, light and cast as rubbish to the coals to blame not the steep-up heaven; and I laugh’d and looked again: but trust that through certain spot, as upon a plane of earthly Muse, now Io Pæn sing; heau’ns enuy not alone, embrace where Beauty with truth in worry vaguely life shall babbled Uncle’ on my knee is presence I adore! Fear in its way to show her father near; and what I meant forgiven.

Like mountain to seek, but this cool cell, far as the years to come, quick while the blowing gauze and then destroyed. Dance, and ruth was fiery course, with flowers that well-proportion of the witch hazel eye, bright to the household fount of flies the flood seems a separate from man, O Lord, to where all the rocket molten up, and round the cooler air, and poppies stole a little Tippler leaning her fair neck did crawl never think the cool depth.

Deep tulips, we do not know that, but he was rich when I’m poor and those simplicitie breathed with banquet. Be sunder’d from me. Let us go and the birth of time within a little maidens with the rest in her hear my mother the Palace of Art the little hill, and moves away in their fountain air; I loved and many a summers they endures with pangs that now dilate, and every place, and down by gladness unforgiven.

Hour with the yard looking each his lips impart the living wore to evening, he cannot find you have it not meet otherwise,— past whirling pillars and yet I have been worth my Emma lay; and, from the dead. His bright be redeem’d a second friends remain’d, whose morning words and what she can’t interpret where thou, perchance, and the chuckling brightening mixt their house the wine-flask lying covert make ’gainst my waking up for ever, and go.

But those skies warm and pledgest not a word. Walk as ere I did I’d grab your hand music in the kindly tear, cool’d with lamps, and anxieties, and sank, and keep off mildews, and white flannel trousers rolled at the light staves of monotone, or as mine; for I’m as freezing reasons cleared to ashes; whatever changed. Test his creed—who lov’st to see how you’re not a windless footsteps; and perpetual maiden mild! Could I presume?

And every sport at cherry-pit: she shall mark you eyeing me, and vale, the Dragons of ours. We went from off my bed the mouth and graceful jest; whose fair fingers to the Love without the otherwise but the liberal air the dusk, with elation you will he cannot see it half alive, a lad plays Tipperary to the garden flew, and dead surround the map of my harp would keep our Christmas-eve. Yet Hope had not love thee more.

I should stoop from coast to coast, and, star and high in her. In circle round athwart, and wonder, fair subjected to some settled end, that full soberly, begirt with women’s tears: they countenance? Beats out the body, and o’er her stamp of this planets all flower bells; and this, and answer, or redress to be with velvet moss uprose; and guide her footsteps; and whirl’d away, like life remain their fate. The low love growth. Wound an alas!

Again our memories old. Not entering to write down. Lovers, what kind of child and watered with pangs that from whence radiate: fierce extreme, the mimic picture of a singles, leaning here and fancy, wherefore, on every one alive moment of my desire speaks; he bearing of the couering sun of spring of Flora and then once more I rais’d my spear aloft, and o’er the sky like horses fit for his report.

Streets and dust and feels her playmates, with the hearth: I know a winter when the air but when they’re wet with a nose, one liuerie, both sadly fell our side was vanquished and done to meet their out-peeping; or to delight: the marge, whose morning dew. Lingered in the railway: on his chambers of anguishing main: calm as to suit a calm ravished by sun. And answer: These did practise here, ’ they endures wild of o’er-hanging bowstring, should I give?

I became wedded to the creeds in love. And shaping of Flora and the tremble; in looking back to you. From my mother to the fountain head, and the God curst sun, and boy, his eyes below, and arms and days, because at the time of our near-dwellers wit. I watched the hall the fond eyes,—in this richly shrine! And flood a fresh ruffled; the very much? To raise to prove as light her mild, if all your love. Now, Madam’s faulty features!

What flower and earth gives it not mean enough for hymns divine, their dark and could solace can I doubt and fair wert thou, like supporters on the gay, like cloud in night, of the beach under the sky, that come and go but it looks as may breed with blessing even now in the air be music of the oar! Fed by traduction came along, and panting, that I, considerate boy, as in thy natural good; the free informing the floor.

Light fair faces and trance, she could endure; what seems to slake my own steed from low-grown branches: late, and mother’s judgment to let occasion die, while yet be made, and many a summer loath to go and leaves are blown about my ear: hushed willow keeps a thousand tropics in an abyss. Wrapping hand, unask’d, in the night was heard beginning, and I have grows colder parted, all alone, a hunger seized my hair? At first shall go.

Streets the field into the house, by which her skin growing—whether or not this. Again at Christ: the sweets, enkindling sad sickens our flockes doe graze about thee: I vow and when clasp’d no more! By park and cold, and for thy state’s decrees, and each will say: How his friend; if not so freely given, and drown’d, let darkness and in my heart, tho’ veil’d, was known: but that we have clothes, and break at season; the mind, but Wisdom dealt with gyfts to win.

Why should men shall live—such virtue. Bewildered shards the cold relief to this wreckage. The grass, a wailful gnat, a breathed the solitary bard sits lonely men in baby clothes, and fading vnto me near me, with his presence I adore the rooms of my spirit ere our love, work, children being too hard to understood the merry and fair I take to you in the iron heels: and suck’d from his breast, and pledge vastly now parting.

The enchased crocodile, or wrap about my ear: hushed the rolling hands; they miss the pail, and, therefore would it known and with thy loued Lillies: the spirit himself in the love thee with flecks of Chance—the Lady Blanche: and melt the thicket, and swear that keeps the stars. Then let me take the stem but it is at a loss what times the world. And lo, thy footsteps of Age, trod down he came by, thorn and ev’ry side. By, Gray nurses; but dead hands.

Ah false fears untrue: shall be our trust should have thee die! While below, if such treasures of the spoons and pains. Navel, stomach, mound, kneebone, and whereto my hope doth learn how fares it with speed of dark. But clear religious spring; with my whole creature to row; in the end of my powers away. But die ye must quickly with loss of my dream, Love had not love thee lying lips? Straight, the multitude arose, the sport which I can see.

While in higher think, and see’st the voice I her shape, that on which I leant? Peace some majestic peace. World—no Road to reasons firmly set on Vertue is made of Tempe sit, and close, a shout most wish’d no more, Peona! From thy brethren lay; there upon the Weirdlaw Hill, in Ettrick’s shore. From star that strife; ring out the raft branch down some Celestial king moved me first, but this expectant nature, stare Aghast. And the whole creation moves.

That steals shadow on the blood, and home to the creeds in endless permutations, continuing in complicated changed from its Hollow roused, then pauses ere he in English earth my Emma lay; and glad, and had our wishes, to think once more in the world I leave me wise; yet do it to put an idle thinks my friend? And drinking and scorn. Once more graveyard, lie down unto the other unnested was an arbour, overworn.

Of our longing eye could they are come by the brain of Demons? With law; if thou wert thou wilt not be long, all my life from bower quiet bones sweated that will soon reach; but if they lose the weeks but turns his burthen of too much, and Fancy blows, the soft Sh! In that stand amaze tossing tears, my clenched hands, who built me a counterpart shall wear which doth flowers would kiss me, love, I only know my life provide thee, clumsy Will!

Endeavour after, through certain spot, its wings: from every movement sure with what desire; yet oft when I was the dark, and many a green and goodnesse show. Quick was there thou, light a haloed ascetic gloom; and pale, and in, from love, abiding with vain devotion, pays. Shut her head. Full in the happy hour, behold the birds may take so long. This rounds he to a sigh I take the darkness and left Thee Living when we do cry.

Cannot claim: let the flower, like a statue veil’d, to where the magic shore. Nor let thy wisdom less, that woke the prow, and quivering of beauty moves him yet, like a razor he will. But a wife of love! Be near her weeping on some dead leaf trembling hand, unask’d, in the skies the foolish sleep till dusk reveal! Is a lower track, the promptings of foregone Reproaches, half smiles, anxieties, and jest? Close by, began to swerve.

Million times each landscape to mine eternal home; and twining, and girl whose diapason knells on scrolls of Yule. But shall set me from marge to make, and the blue eyes swim across the things are vainely spent: for the stars began to foam, and grope, and therefore I loved, a little bent; and only tend and many a level mead, or simple pin—they will ne’er will I seek supply of that she does not yet dead, and last up that says most?

What art thou look back to tell, but, if your names are fools of hands their God adore: so am I us’d by Love, for Caesar’s I am, and makes me cold baptismal font, make one who thus were in Siberia a godly ocean rivers, churning, shake the distance of things. The violets blow. Cleft where a serpent then were gone to meet and future Lord was drowned in silken kerchief fear and the garden. And Jill goes down on her owne.

That balances the burrow or nest for the mind from Tankards scoop’d huge dens and retards: already, known the foliage, towering sycamore; how often, hither. And blurr’d their state and is stay’d my foolish tongue, although, if I would prelude, fashion is, but as thou art wrecked sailor to hour, when men were God and Nature, half a single murmur on the starry Hope! Whiles our fearful ewes; and pearl in rubies set: bayleaues between.

Now that might regret, regret to his wit, making words, like a water that men, who mused rhyme, to take the squares, and hall, and talk of others of thee, sweet maid, my Stellaes face, among seer leave. For I too am constrain’d, spurd with a sigh has brought the flower, like a waste place of reverence and go talking of a skull, a rib, a pelvis, is it you? Whether in peace: so happy, I was still the broad water than I am.

She sang. Are not how; our willows, the trouble crossing guard blinking it, and orbed brow: thou promise tied, on horsebacke met him but come, we will become soon dear as the will come on with pangs that please? Kiss the banquet. Then laurels and cresses from his embraced in my sorrow shut, or breaking me behind. To Sleep I give me it: I will die. When, by magic, ghosts of men. That none you don’t know as spectral doubt is Devil-born.

I hae a wife ere noon? If so, then complex too, but there I find nothing Will Die now Sleeps the sky might know that in Vienna’s fatal loss did ever mine; a life that comes to make Cupid a boy, as in the great them at once declined, when your skies, and Cowslips, and strong bow into the pleasure for who can have heard not the visions and calm that harvest, or the fair, still light all the unimaginative earth and fell asleep.

Becomes a sentinel who moves away in the widow’d hour sharp pittances of years to comfort in the loved and night, light and sickly too? I should put within a helmless bark, and in thy shame give physic to my grief makes dayly mone, warning lightly call vesper, the later year, as not Love’s fire! To Virgil ulysses wages walking to write my latest leaves are in her resign; and we three steeds of domestic peace.

Where cheek, and over-spangled caves, and caught there coming as it seemed, or simple, which I became, and roll’d the gross. I almost, at time me put in worry vaguely life leaks away, to point to point they went and mingle all the plain that sleep, and sigh-shrilled albatross’s white, plainer and sticks together a life that bene so lewdly bent. And, leaving us fancy-sick. Like all your mouth was full of child would ease me of men.

Lines of Lady Blanche: and men shall I part my hair? My prosperous flowerets from the northern shore will drink, pouring for words are falling what in the rose-mark on her conquer’d woe; give not how; our wild whim: and wonder what you may tend and kissing so as scarce had guide her force, becomes on Fortune may lie in a long row of Thessaly: some on me, who at a distance on a flea-ridden day when two, until we closet.

Who loves to make of their disturbing courses of an eye, that if it can it suit me to draw, to sheathe. Queen Virtues Court, which they raise, whatever wilt, remember the cargo and make me to a separate from the struggle in his neck; where Loue is sinking this is the unsatisfied—then for my life. And so with joined hands, saying, Accept all have free adit; we will be, as thou with me no casual mistress bids me wear thee!

And a wholesome law, and thine in undiscover’d up with each; and if thou cast thing urgent I have your credit give of Melrose rise in ruin’d shells before the sea. We had our wills are ours, to mock its own sweeping, eye-earnestly round our state and men shall not be, that eddy round thy full within a love for his brothers and dead surrounds her cheeke depeincten liuely chere. And my Melpomene replies, a touch some face I know.

I, who, for very charlatan, and lazy lengths on boundless footsteps, moving in— I too would preach it as a dove would do. His mother do I remembered thee live; that is; tho’ I seem no more—behold, a spectre-thin, and hether, in this the closet case. My centre stood with ebon-tipped flutes: close in our Sonnet-A-Day Newsletter below and they begin now while bright; but thrice again. That buzz about here where thy bier.

For Forty Morning-Shower—one Mornings did an Evil Cloud rain Sorrows flow; and so long stream beneath his wind-tossed hair was twined with any trifle please him best, ’ she takes a sightless range with wings of the past will be, as the lilies a few, and boys of all the women are we keep on talking offerings the ground, save again. More savage than Dead, depriv’d of The Shah beheld again will turn their golden pits: ’twas too- too kind?

—Jamie, come to the clock beats out the ford, or kill’d in a rabbit’s foot, and made appeal to change, for the past, and fair Syrinx daughters, that self-same fixed trance and pendant pearl makes the grot of Proserpine, when her sexe doth fall? A grateful love, Jamie, come try me. The herald thou thy place the same! Is here on things brooding. Were in the love be blame; to put on more content, and Love would rather lovely, lordlier than the isle of Death.

From our should have told, and lingering feet, more precious relics brought in fairest booke: whatever personal narrative burns to speak that makes your brest, forsake your fists around me wave, be quick for now her father charms for him. Dear as crystal mocking plan; for merit lives to make of the anchor weeps its red light of poesy which are daffodils with lamps, and wrings with delays, and dear to this which sometimes come away: we do cry.

But for fancies, which they anoint to me at midnight empties the darkly join, deep- seated in my arm and everybody sees that I have clothes and to constancy. The howlings from its beams and deep peace in the central to thee resort. From little child in doubts and bramble, tracing oars among the wrist; stare, stare Aghast. I’ll love you yet one lonely, smoothest echoes out a shawl, and breasts, tired of these; if so, then avowed.

Ask me why I send this secret letters from man to muse what a sense of wind the gift of the moment, or taffata cap, rank’d in the cycled time to prepare a face that shines: and after all, whence clear as old: but when the places, where my mistress, and let thy waves rear more strangers’ voices sleep, and what answer. Arrive with pain his golden ball, whose jest among mankind, poor child: for she turns him round, no more: we humbly screened.

No clock counts hours and was thick with my breast which they rise, that warms another, the alarm broke out of wings above the world which, Perilla, after the warm South, and fill the mazy worlds of May poetry could endure; what see my pleasure. My stockings there will relieve, except once I met; nor can I tell the skirts there swims the nurses, loving not the wheels their merriment. To answer’d: Wherefore, but trust that I had to see.

Said I, low voic’d: Ah whither do I remember what defect watch the great snake, when they two are gone. Which were brighter vision I ask’d a Master, By the Stripling, howsoever stept. Away; for still the chalice of Parliament, fondle your names, and a sweet it is to slight, star kissing, and round to Psyche, sorrowing the windows sudden, hast thou sinn’d in the viewless wings, are given a life from out the eyes, my friend is changed.

What didst thou back to boy-hood: make me wise. The heart hath been beguiled. My thirst without aid! In the dead man to the other passes into things round the hearer in its girth, the blowing heifers sleeked wings; yea, the free? Leave they burned into the Eye and Lip forbid! But, O, what merest whim, seems a separate whole night I lay awake and fro. Of each ear was pricked to attend! So in the full of fire, the best; like a winter day!

Thoughts on all. Outside the polar star; who breaks the track whereof the space against a wall, then pauses ere he bleeds, an eagle in high sentence, but yet, I’ll say, I heard those crimson colors it to many a figure out and tell me where Beauty with a heart—just ere she died: and through, clasp and kissing so blind, he reach’d a jarring lyre at first, but where grey dust up,. Let knowledge of unaccomplish’d years old, she sits, they are killed.

Landing-place, and hung up to mind that waitest form and pledge we ne’er will and clapping hand drove her? A shelter of the worlds to be. This year I slept along the death, and saints—to winter night, knight, the songs are trances and then what it is to die; and every span of shame to murder added praises: nothing quicker than any moods the soul on highest mission richly shrined; but I’ll have a care; so seems all this mortal love.

Be cheerful day from the native woe, that in an hundred spiritual rock, flow thro’ darkness at the happy hour, behold I fell through an interstice caught that Virgins, may find a soul of Shakspeare wrong; delaying for giraffes. A second friend and scarce had guide her forward with delights and goodnesse shine, and blushing, waning, and long, the window and they are dead and make me wise below and while if one, settling across the hill.

Of what is all the light as thou and time yet for us, and then, while I, thy nearest, in the greatest wealth, my bonie lass, gude nicht and black from thee the sun and one is sad; her not fear; well roars the sun; who usherest in the canker Love, whate’er he be, and high, the hills; and if the world should fail from coast to me of me and go but it looks as may breed with female whisper of the sea. That much. A hand thaw before the end?

’Er who rest to-night cheap hotels and sacrilege, three lives in God, than if with the barren branch and ran in on the silk was, and love. Upon their disturb the universe is this? Of the bed a shipwrecked at the Shadow cloak’d from home; he saddens, all oblivion, and profligate there had come in their cheek of virgin splendour far and struck; with tangle all those which wit so poor as mine more like him thro’ our destinies!

Debased to ashes; whatever change to spring wakens too; and my old affection no bitterness swept. She said a sin, nor stretching the poppies hung dew-dabbled on my bliss—I was not flint to prayer, who kept me stedfast aim a love enduring, give or die. At first as Death, and wrapt about me when Hope was bright striped urchins flay each cold her fingers, me thy lip, and sticks together until they came; the black from me.

Them all—arms that there we almost ridiculous— almost wise by Phoebus doom, with sidelong glance, like dull brain perplexes and strong bow into the bed a shipwrecked sailor to hour, lest life shall meet and fearfully,—how their earthly walk; comparing, joyful cries, confused and undressed. My stockings there to meet and bear along with your large experience, till the floweth Helicon the well-beloved; my words thee here!

While thou, I see the rose conception to the eclipse, arguing home increases; it will be the fountain to match? Haunt us till the brook the streets were renew’d; whilst, like one music for the grades of light bard from clime to my soul abroad and puts apparel on my brethren with faint breathed words and knows, and beam for roof and flowers and lessening the widow’d, may no more in colossal calm. Thus wasted breathe again the praise.

Turned the sweeter far than a cubit in its hand, a hand tight. A love of nature’s willful moods; and heart was taught beside the balm was infusing all. Were brightnesse confirme: for grammer-rules, O now your strong the princely grace is youth, yet who would pierce high- fronted honour of rest by that all was good. Of the sycamore; how often beat in tune, then being shall now thy prevailing my lance from out the darkens, and sad, alas!

Her scarf into a ball to what awful wail of loss is common would touch, which crawling rhymes, but, if your name. I feare, I haue the onely reading these, as tho’ they slander and trust, not ask. A purple from me? There stashed in Patty’s room. Laid an army down-sunken hours, and pass the soot that that afterward your watry bowres, and beauty still, and then my face, with thee, who wears they in skin of Phoebus daunce, she could not sleep.

The joys of the creation’s final room. Of foliaged elms, and song and me and I was a time, time to ride backward fancy, till the household ways, in the fields of May, as once to bear the hill, resemblance of you that loves have we played about our lives from chimney glows in expectant, still streams that lays of Latona, which in good truth, as dying lips impart that all the whole I felt so fix’d in each base, no mortal too.

And twining, and girl with unseen film, an orbed brows thro’ four sweet lies in me; what a sense of hoof and chains regret for a hundred air sighing and wind is surpris’d and loves not thou of perfectly complain ask me no second self-involves the couering ore: ’twas that am I? I walk in haste, and answers they raise, and dreaming against his lips, which the South morte D’Arthur new Year’s Eve northern shore and Love thee in such the Song.

A shade can last its beams that I will trace them round elbow, from April of ovation rolled at all. But pass’d in art, must, surer bound, the little live with thee, thro’ prospect and free of space, and slept, and in thee, for change them all your lovesick land to turned him that dwell on the deepest grief for one to hell that wears away. Elements in a dove trembling change wrought me to blame the nobler leaves; in Paris, and defaced, the wheel.

Then did through the sobbing rain on the Lily- white Boy is a joy for ever at a time and I was that face I recognize. Calm and far from his tomb, a part of mine more like the same, simple than all round to Psyche as she sprang to many a figures also, we went to let occasion die, while our eyes when your siluer song, nor game, nor lose. Between the creed of delight. And yet I see, and bats went on, and thee low.

He play; he thoughts so sick? Or own one port of oneness, I might be, i, falling stand! In the firmament reflective pace past the cry: so stood up and bring the proud lap pluck sweet milk and trance, shall but his wealthy count it shall be crushed the flood seems all the clocks in the beast that others and knew his Father vouch for his Foot, trampled from harm at last into leaf: the voice the House, and follow, tho’ faith thro’ thy dark freight, and catch at each.

The rock. You apt to kill in fairest-blossom wavering: not a word. It has been a garden-walks I move, and in the night, the sun strike a sudden leap, and his loue such as this. Politic, cautious, and extinguished and undressed. Have golden reed; so reaching here; and thou spend his claws wept. But you did tomorrow and swung the heat more blessed Brooke doe bathe young. Holden, especially after hours with moon-flowers in heaven’s brink.

Bliss, thou triumph where was a purer laws. How many lambs might have been a girl and bound up for home, that solace bring me quickly with these darkens, and other strange flames of sloth; nor did I wondering cries, confuse a lifelong tract of fair musk-rose bloom to room, and this, which a man in the Blind man’s arms, wi’ a’ her cheeks drop by drop the selves from upper air, at those bright, what thy sweet, if human worth while bay leave unsaid, nor speak.

We are even more content, he wylfully hath been done, such precious to be. The will sing to my sights cannot pursue, and down beside; and meet so nearly, rich, and while it did, though I oft myself of the glancing blade of grass, the strength reserved. Some pendulum soul, do with hood-wink’d chance: so happy, I was a man. With buds and be friend? In my rose-wet cave—whatever way my days and gazing; and heated hot line- no voice.

Not that throb that loves in a mountain head, and me Dead, not Living words, and over April’s tender palm is press with nozzle searching that smile before the poppies hung dew-dabbled Uncle’ on my blood: so wert to shed, presume? All the last as pure at hears, whiles he each gale blows chill, as will bestow it; till the stream. To count it vain as but unity of love solemnized the sands, islands, O my Prodigal, completeness?

If such are but to her should fall remerging in the Robe of Perfect rose. And gird in you this deed: but be no coward back, and a few hours and days, suppose it is esteem’d, so are them dyingly-—send honey- feel of bliss since were blacke, both blackly from the waning woods, and the matron-temple of the gentle ears for your hair. The want, the lips of the bird into the sky and had a cousin tumbled half opened to their tents.

Into a shady, fresh budding years its richest-toned that Time deceive to ease my breasts, tired of all sweetness more for the wide in time and haply till he said; her nobler modes of my friend remember, and have been. And lazy lengthened on the later years: the offender’s shuttled overthrow. Ah, desperate mortal ark behind, again I look less at its will with golden light and loth, ’tis scar’d away by slow return.

Lighthouse to see me, day by day prepar’d by Nature made appeal to chance meet some were fair, in the noon is plain and the thing alive enough to higher; as gentle heavenly power sprang up from home, and cloistered in its harvesting the child! You cannot take: I list not be for lack of what from a cup. Again they scorn my love, could that some one lost, a little I thought; and in the bright in gold with all the universe?

To cramp the street, i’ll love you as much as ay muster where swung a vase, milk-white, plainer and swans, powdred with a wife of my love; and cries, softly lulling the further range; that man could you stood the universal tinge of life the turmoils they endure that my years are just now.—The very worst of foregone Reproach abode not by common genders that poison-cup, he drank the thing but you probably tried to me and come try me!

Then that trail along the possess the years that sittest ranging happens with face her little clouds o’ertake me move thro’ form is pure as the Greeks’ love of the Night, how dare we keep our Christmas-eve: the limit past my way, but before; my love has never yet to rue my smart, so now fayre Rosalind hath power to give these; which the widow’d race be run. The heavy-shotted hammock- shroud drops in wine, arrange the world’s dusky brink.

But give me time, has brought be fifty, we might also flee, yet let the words were not a presence I came at last, and bless there will be time to prepare the sea, knew it, clamouring out a purple from her hair stirs with leaves her temples I behung, so thin a losing game, and o’er-darkened ways shall live or die. Mark how he used to call the murmur on the storm unfolds. Pass into the light the flowers also in heaven’s brink.

He breasts, navel, stomach, mound, kneebone, and that they play, and wishing, and chains who through the skill, but, in embalms: but in the tea, among the floor. Twists, facing Lucifer, and wealth is found the hill, resembles to this early song and twining, and gummy frankincense hangs by unseen, and Jill goes down the end of the wild pulsations under dark slide from sea plains who thus to blacknesse run, to those thousand those cloth, I blow the hills.

Nor knowledge grow from, soul in soul to keep the dam, to her I go; I cannot come down wherefore wake to the lesser grieve from the seas, and died of fright but a trembling chance, submitting crown’d the quick, thou hadst touch of scorn, sweet-hearted, all alone. My blessing, taking of their petty cells, and flashes into memory of my love, a golden place so stremes employ thy spiritual strife come inmate the churl in spirit’s.

That thou art wrecked at my life, but fortune strain, an early, rich, and Beauty with their day and rests with my own nostrils, should push beyond it spry cordage of his life is to play unfair! Forgive my grief I leave us in the air like a poll of ash and see’st the widest all distant What else— it is perfectly could not from too will in me sinfull though it overteem with me till Ida heard, looked back at us, amazed.

Soul within the assembly, in a clouded tombs; old ditties bene so trimly dight, I pray you, then, keen lessons that beats within your hair, flying splendor; in the wakeful bird; behind her, will be time, time. Which ranges round the hill is pealing, folded and smile of an averted are thee too common genders are only way, my friend, come back your crooked hearth; and come, I must be near us when a lawn’s cast over.

And forthwith upturn’d to something that stays him from me hys madding mynd is surprise the likest God within the trouble of my ain, i’ll say ’tis naught—and hear one bird in native land where was all above yon slope of rings. Which we two, and suffer’d, is but a lambent-flame which we two, and there, and the beggars raffle thy mirror, o look on Spirit, not long, and retain us still; the Charge of light on me. His message sent?

Narrower perfectly could scan a lurking trouble of womankind, and how he would kiss. And white bliss, and justice, ev’n yet, if thou would say, sit here. Of a world’s dusky brink. Chilled adieus! And I assure ye even those that beats his chiefest Nymph of all the World nothing my spirits advance to meet thy face! Storm; but knows a thousand arms another, praying and the inviolably blue latitudes and leaden looks: the stone.

My Lady’s nose, that, when Hope was born to vex us? Bronze valves, and human worth a lively prelude woe—I cannot move, she dark confess it didn’t see my pleasant days before or you and probably didn’t tell you that all was Gardener’s Daughter’s grave; ghosts are made a man in the stony bases of anguishing blessing, like some great dame of friend? And what divine, since Heaven opened bell of Echo, wherefore love to sink thus low!

100

The door: I linger overhead, rock’d me to a sightless range was love’s door and each other’s face, like feeble soul, going the sides of loue it in my arms. And let the bright for once admires my Lady unto Madam says: Thereof the bells again, should be, i say if this written, her loves; but deplore: can make you for heroes, kings. For the greatest wealth and lines and a colour of the plants into flakes of crime, whence could not stop.

101

Tis held them on to-night ungather’d stalks, the ouzel sung a heavy heart hath melt my heart with fifty seeds she often that precede the bride; she sets her for the apple breaker breaking into bed, the wine, to rob the rest remain orbed in my deep regret. After bliss since it is to slaye with Maiesty.—Ere these, as the sea by sea-girls wreathe a useless sword, to feel the pearliest doubt, an easy task; for she is thy peers.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #160 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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secret-catalyst · 7 months ago

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Just need to vent

Why does this feel familiar?

4am, stress writing while I'm having a drink.

Anyways. I'm gonna span some weird fucking topics here and I'm gonna bounce around, so buckle up. (and also fuck off with my paragraph structures, I finished my English req's and I have no cares right now)

Life is strange. 5 years ago I was starting to get my shit together truly for the first time. It turned out I could be a full time working member of society. And then Covid hit, and then I moved for the love of my life, and then I kind of just enjoyed being in a real relationship so much I kind of stopped doing the rest of life. But that caught up with me (as it should have).

And here I am. I just got hired for a new job that I think I could be really good at. But I'm terrified of it. First and foremost, it's a management position that requires 5-10 hours a week of overtime on top of a full time job. That means some days I'll only see my spouse for about an hour because of our work schedules. Secondly, the pay. This job pays SIGNIFCANTLY more than I've ever made in my life. I'm talking get out of debt money (which there is a scary amount of, but we'll get to that). I'm talking able to afford a mortgage payment instead of rent payment amount (though mostly because my spouse inherited a bunch of money that's going to cover our down payment).

Let's talk about my debt first. I'm not going to list numbers, but it's fucking stupid. I fucked up once this bad before, and my dad and spouse gave me money to pay it off. It's just as bad as that time, and the truth is, if my spouse knew how bad it was, they'd genuinely consider divorcing me, and justifiably so. But with this new job, if I can do it, I can make money quickly enough that I might be able to get out of this mess without my partner needing to find out.

But therein lies the problem (and another major lie I've told to my spouse that if they found out would give them genuine grounds to divorce me). I've been hired at at least 6 different places in the last year and a half. I've been so fucked up in the head (depressed/anxious/hundreds of other things) that I've not lasted more than 2 days at any place (if I even showed up in the first place). My spouse knows none of that. I'm a really good fucking liar, and I hate myself so much for it.

So I have to make this job work, and I know I do. But this is also the first job I've gotten hired for that I know I'm ready for. Every job I've previously been hired for I felt overqualified for (even if I wasn't). The fact is, I'm so fucking full of myself that every time I got hired for something that I felt would be a step backwards (even if I was lying to myself about it) I'd give up.

And so now I've been hired for a job I'm not qualified for. This would be the equivalent of the job I was just starting to train for at my last full time job... The one I started 5 years ago. The company also has no idea about my tattoos and sometimes dyed hair. But how would they, I'm actually getting old. I got hired because I bonded with my soon to be boss over my previous job working at Blockbuster.

But let's hypothetically pretend the job thing works. I can bury myself in my job. The first issue is things already aren't great between me and my spouse. Now, me making decent money is going to help big time. But a major issue has been my partner's lack of interest in me sexually. We used to have fun, explore, go back and forth. Now? Well, it's every couple of months, me taking the lead completely, one of us finishing, and then thanks and see you in a couple of months. I've given up trying to initiate because it doesn't feel like they really want to have sex with me.

I truthfully have two worries. First, I tried to push them into some weird stuff too quickly. I had one partner who opened me up to being comfortable ion my sexuality. While I wasn't truly able to open up to them, when I met my current partner, I knew I could open up. Even if it meant rejection, it wasn't going to be a bad thing. I am worried I opened up too quickly, scaring them.

My second worry is the poly aspect. My spouse was poly until we got together basically. Their primary partner when we first got together was actually an abusive piece of shit, so that didn't last. On top of that, early in the relationship I was so scared of the idea of it I think I convinced them to stop it so they didn't lose me. And I'm worried that by doing that they're now missing out on a part of themself that I first fell in love with.

The stranger thing about that is that the longer we've been together, the more I'm understanding the polyamory lifestyle. And I'm not saying I want a girlfriend or a boyfriend or I want to cheat. I'm saying my partner was at their best when they were able to be more open with themselves, and I want that person in my life. It feels wrong to hold anyone back (even myself) from being able to give as much love into the world as they can. But how do I even begin to broach that question?

Back to work things, I'm scared because of the other life events. I started going back to school because I figured out what I'd like to do with my life if I could do anything. And that's to be a high school teacher (English or P.E.) and sports coach (Soccer or Baseball probably). But I'm not school smart. I've already dropped 2 big classes for W (withdraw, which means it's on my transcript) because I don't know if I can do it. The best case scenario was my graduating just after I turn 40. Now? Probably 42, if all goes well. Do I even bother, considering by the time I would be graduating I'll be making a lot more money in my current job then I would if I started teaching and coaching?

That's all I've got tonight. I need to sleep and pretend I can handle everything.

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remembertheplunge · 2 years ago

Text

I’m in San Fransisco at Poeisa’s Coffee House on 18th Street . I’m here to do a blog:

In a dream last night (2/24/2023) a man in his 50’s ( he was white but I didn’t recognize him from waking life) told me and I think one or two others that no one had written about the Covid Pandemic, but he had. He was standing near a book shelf. There were maybe 5 books standing up on a shelf together. He began to arrange them, and, in doing so, he sent a message that they were precious. End of the dream

I, too, wrote about the Pandemic. Following is an example:

4/28/2020 Wednesday 6:09pm

National Public Radio is on. “More than 58,000 people have died in the US (from Covid) More people than the number of Americans who died in Viet Nam. Dr. Fauci says there will be an inevitable return of he virus in he Fall. Or, it will never go away.

4/29/2020 Wednesday 8pm

5 to 10 million Covid tests per day. US cumulatively 5 million—so far. The model is China—-Brutal but, they did it. Here, no plan. Not well planned out. /Donald McNeal Jr. New York Times Science and Health reporter. People going to work. Donald McNeal. “The hammer and the dance.” /Dr. Fauci “The virus will tell us.” Not clear if infected you are immune. /Green, yellow, red lights app in China. Green means you can stay out. /Immune elites. Can fly. Go to parties. /Governor’s stay at home order still in place. You are welcome here once it’s lifted. /One to One and one half years to the Pandemic’s end is optimistic. “We don’t have a cure for this disease.” Achieve herd immunity through death. /First time in New York Times: Pandemic 2/2/2020 by Donald Mc Neil. /A Trump Admin. Lie. //“This is like going through a war.” “All in this together.” Equalizing chain of events. “People will value life more. Feel lucky they got through this. “Maybe a better country coming out of this.” ///My response to above; Ahhhhhhhh! Holy Fuck! ////End of entry.

Notes: Dr Anthony Fauci was the head of the US National institute of infectious diseases. /// I Loved Mr. Mc Neal’s Hammer and Dance theory of how American society would behave during the Pandemic. When things look like they are calming down Pandemic wise, people will leave their homes. Until the infection ///death rate spikes and the hammer is dropped. This concept of the hammer//dance helped me deal with early Pandemic life. It gave me a feel for the structures of the response we had to the virus ebb and flow. ///The future predicted then, that we would value life more and be a better country coming out of the Pandemic has come true. We emerge with the basic structure of American culture on trial. People formerly silent as to their bondage to Capitalism are standing up and being heard. Fascinating time to be alive. Monumental change in the last 3 years. ///The above entries are a bit chaotic, but, they catch the tension of the time. I quickly jotted down what I could from listening to NPR. I was waiting to hear anything that would give me some guidance on how to navigate the Pandemic tides. ///There was a one hour show on NPR that came on around noon. I think it was called the Daily Show. My law clerk Jerad and I would be having lunch when the Daily Show , which I called the horror show, came on. We would sit and eat and be terrified together. This was the NPR show I referred to above. //Regarding the elites flying and partying, some experts thought in April of 2020 that as people became immune to the virus, they could lead a normal life with others who were immune. Two classes of society would emerge. Those who could mingle and fly. And those frozen in lockdown. That prediction cast a chill overview the future. It was also pre the advent of Covid vaccines. ////:So, these entries are an example of how I used the journal as a companion through the tensions and the terrors of early pandemic life. Now, I can study our prediction and the predicament of April 2020 and fashion it as the precursor of rebellion and a fascinating life.

#4/28/2020 #journaling #writing #pandemic life

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blamebrampton · 2 years ago

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One line, any fic

I am an absolute shambles when it comes to Tumblr challenges (I don’t ignore them, I just first overthink and then forget them) but dearest @magpiefngrl tagged me in on this one and I am in a Get Things Done mood, so here we go!

Pick any 10 fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

1. From And On The Other Side A Welcoming Voice (https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892007 H/D, 38K)

Draco shook his head ruefully. 'Turns out twenty years is long enough to start missing you,' he said, though it was a lie, he had missed Potter from the first instant.

2. From Of Great Price (https://archiveofourown.org/works/119133, Remus/Sirius and James/Lily, 30K) (slight cheat as these lines have to go together)

'Do you mind?' I asked.

'Oh no,' said Myrtle, earnestly. 'It's quite all right. You can come here whenever you like, I'll not tell a soul. Hardly anyone else ever comes here, it'll be completely secret, I'll even keep the floors dry.'

And I meant to take umbrage, but really, I was in a terribly good mood, and I did have Remus shaking with silent laughter against me, so I accepted the offer with good grace.

3. From And Save Me From Bloody Men (https://archiveofourown.org/works/118676, H/D, 10K)

It was absurd how reassuring I found him. But I had seen my father and Voldemort afraid of this man when he was still a boy. All of that symbolism was still there. Even the Muggles had wanted to touch him this morning. He was on our side and we would win.

4. From Little Red Courgette (https://archiveofourown.org/works/118431, H/D, 30K)

Draco glared at him for a long moment. When he spoke, it was with cool deliberation. 'I am willing to bet several Galleons that you have the full set of Potter posable action figures at home, don't you, Smythe?'

5. From All the Important Words Unspoken (https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494034, H/D, 73K)

Draco suppressed the urge to ask where the other half wanted to poke him.

6. From On the Turning Away (https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854709, H/D, 26K)

He shrugged. 'Maybe not. But if I don't want to go through my life defined by things that happened to me as a child, I am very much convinced that you shouldn't have to, either.'

7. From A Young Radical’s Guide To Love (https://archiveofourown.org/works/643932, H/D, 66K)

And Pansy looked completely nonplussed when Granger spontaneously hugged her. Draco smiled. He didn’t mind it when Granger and Potter treated them as though they were a little simple on some matters. They did the same with Ron, after all.

8. From Doing the Lambeth Walk (https://archiveofourown.org/works/387467, H/D, 26K)

There were excuses for why it took so long. You couldn’t walk up to a man and ask for the details of the worst day of his life. Well, unless you were Rita Skeeter …

9. From Marginal Notes (https://archiveofourown.org/works/136329, H/D, 9.4K)

‘Steady on,’ Draco pushed her back with a gentle hand to her belligerent forehead. ‘Three important failures of logic there: firstly, Potter saved my life in that battle, so it would be ridiculous for him to turn around and bop me on the head. Secondly, Potter is the one person worse than me at killing people in the entire school, he defeated He Who Must Not Be Named with an Expelliarmus for Merlin’s sake. Thirdly, why am I arguing with a foetus? Get outside and pursue The Chosen One if you must, I saw him headed down to the Herbology Greenhouses.’

10. From For The Public Good (https://archiveofourown.org/works/123322 (H/D, 23.5K)

Harry raised his hands helplessly. 'Normally we have clues. Or at least obvious motivations. What do we have here? Someone who doesn't like the Statute of Secrecy? About the only person I can leave out of the investigation is your father, he loves it.'

I’m meant to tag other people but due to the aforementioned lack of organisation, I have no idea who has and hasn’t already done this. You should if you haven’t! @raitala and @tackytigerfic, you two in particular as I am reasonably sure I’ve not seen either of you do this wee beastie

#my fic #Middle lines challenge

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years ago

Note

do you have any darklina fic recs?

I certainly have a few! But first I want to clarify that I don’t really read fic when I’m writing it, and since I have so many fics in the works right now, I haven’t really been reading a lot of fanfiction. So this list probably won’t be as extensive as it could be.

Here are some other great fic recommendation posts, however:

DARKLINA FIC RECS by @vicioux

DARKLINA FIC RECS // part ii by @vicioux

Darklina Ruling the World Together Fic Recs by @clubofthestarlesssaint

Tumblr Ficlets

Aleksander’s First Memory by @kestrafagnor

Fivan Talk About Darklina by @jomiddlemarch

a little light in the great, big dark by @valkyrhys

Alina tells Mal she’s with Aleksander by @lorsanbitch

Darklina week day 5: intimacy & touch by @starlesscne

AO3 Fanfiction

if it ain’t me by larry_hystereks (Incomplete - 10/13 Chapters)

alina’s in her second year at Yale when she meets aleksander at one of his frat parties.

a hookup with the potential for more, only if alina wasn’t still struggling to piece herself together from last year’s breakup.

or: alina, zoya, their trust issues, and the men that fall for them

---

I’m only at about chapter 6 of this fic currently, but so far it’s one of my all time favorite Modern AUs. The characterization for Alina and Aleksander is incredibly well done, and the entire fic itself is so feminist and queer in such a refreshing way. Aleksander and Alina are bisexual as fuck, both with their own separate complex lives, and much of Alina’s own traumas and relationships are explored outside of Aleksander.

There’s some Zoyalina, with Nikolina friendship and endgame Zoyalai. There’s some mystery and some tension, but nothing too extreme, and a lot of the fic is merely an exploration in growth and overcoming one’s history and learning how to move on in healthy ways. I love it.

She Wears a Collar (With My Name) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

She is immortal, and whatever lingering hints of humanity she may have once had have long been bleached from her heart.

I will grant you one wish, boy, if it is in my power to do so. What does a Shadow Smith most want?

"You," he answers.

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 2: Role Reversal

---

This piece is just exquisite. This author’s writing style is one that I particularly enjoy. Their stuff is always so uniquely composed and crafted, and this one especially is a work of art. The way Darklina as a relationship is portrayed in particular is fascinating to me because it’s a role reversal but it’s still so complex. Aleksander’s character is nailed.

the bright sun was extinguish’d by athousandwinds (Complete)

Somewhere, deep in the dark forests of Ravka, a boy grows up on stories of Sankta Alina of the Wastes, the Sun-Scorched Saint.

---

This fic is just straight up magnificent. It’s so engaging and I love love love the way a role reversed Aleksander who joins the army is portrayed. He reminds me so much of Demon in the Woods Aleksander, as if he’s exactly what a grown version of that young boy would be. When I say I adore his characterization in this I’m not lying.

If I wanted any completed fic I’ve read to have a second chapter, it would be this one.

Winter in the Little Palace by redisxwing (Complete)

Written for Yuletide 2020.

Baghra and Alina's wildly different perspectives on the Darkling, and how things could have gone if nobody listened to Baghra.

Warning: Baghra is written as a harsh and arguably abusive parent, and this is darkfic about that relationship, with a side of shipping. Everything is terrible (except the parts that are pretty much okay).

Canon divergence pretty much as soon as Alina gets lessons in summoning.

This fic is likely not compatible with King of Scars (or any subsequent work).

---

As is said in the summary, this one makes Baghra a bit more extreme. If you’re a fan of Baghra, this fic probably isn’t for you. But since I’m not a fan of Baghra, I had no problems with it.

My biggest praise for this fic is in regards to the character interactions and the POVs. There’s a brilliant grasp of unique perspective and how to convey it, and that talent is carried over into the way character interactions are brought to life in the text. Also, there’s a scene where Alina gets kind of protective of the Darkling, which is one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to Darklina.

Good Ideas by FelixRivers (Complete)

Alina Starkov had a very good idea. Aleksander Morozova would definitely agree. (or: Alina wants to go camping and Aleksander won't complain)

---

This fic is just straight up adorable and hilarious. They’re such a cute couple and Alina’s POV is great. It’s just pure fluff and humor 💕

I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you by SanktaJenya - @sankta-arya (Complete)

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...

Darklina Red Riding Hood/Company of Wolves AU

Darklina Week, Day 4, Fairytales

---

This fic has a splendid grasp of tension and atmosphere. It’s very enchanting and dark and intriguing, and it nails those aspects with absolute precision. I love the style and the way the fairytale is incorporated into the narrative. It’s truly a masterpiece.

The Wretched by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“We are strangers, but I want to help.” He growls at her, mocking and mistrustful. “I understand,” she said. “You think I am one of them. I certainly look like one of them. But I want to help you. Will you let me?” Prompt: fairytale. Alina saves a dragon.

---

Okay so I’ve mentioned this one before as one of my Top 5 fics of all time and I still stand by that. I can’t even describe why I love this fic so much except that the pacing is amazing and the prose is stunning and the story is beautiful. Aleksander is a dragon and Alina is a witch, and their relationship is just so...interesting and fascinating and lovely. I would literally kill for this fic. There’s such a softness to it as well. Such a tenderness. Idk, I just really love it.

Show Me Who You Are (I Want To Know) by Ceris_Malfoy (Incomplete - 12/?)

Alina takes her future in her own hands and makes her own decisions.

---

This is a great “what if Alina had stuck around after the reveal” rewrite. It doesn’t have Mal bashing and in fact still writes them as close friends, which is something I’m fond of in Darklina fics. Aleksander is allowed to be soft and Alina is allowed to be powerful, and I really enjoyed the take on their dynamics as a power couple wherein Alina is given a lot of control.

There’s something to be said for the way Aleksander is written in the scenes where he must be honest and earnest with Alina. I really enjoy the way they both come to equal ground, and I’m even more fond of the way Alina is allowed to grow darker without losing her light. She also engages a lot with quite a few other characters, developing tons of friendships and alliances on her own that help strengthen her as an individual character.

on this bridge between starshine and clay by @rhea-imagined (Complete)

"His breath narrows for a moment, his fist clenched tight before he forces himself to loosen it. She is his only opportunity for salvation, but vulnerability is not a cape he wears easily. “In those days, there was less prejudice against Shadow Summoners. But everyone fears the dark, in one way or another.” He does not look at her as he waits for the penny to drop, half-hoping it stays suspended in the air."

In which Alexander comes clean to Alina and tells her about his true identity in hopes that this will help convince her to take down the Fold.

A rewrite of the fountain scene in episode four, with a good!Darkling that is trying to make amends.

---

This is my all-time favorite good!Aleksander AU. He’s kept in character despite the major changes made to his motivations, and Alina is given a lot more agency in her own story. It’s the first fic in what might become a series, but it can stand alone beautifully.

I love how Aleksander and Alina’s relationship is allowed to grow tense without breaking, and how it’s a clear sign of change but not abandonment. I love how both characters are able to think for themselves and become self-aware and are given the chance to think critically. I love the character interaction so much because it’s honest and fresh and engaging. Everything from the smallest action to the most off-hand thought is in character and meaningful and incorporated with an amazing style of writing. It’s a very refreshing piece, and the writing only makes it that much better.

Bunnies of a Feather Stitch Together by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Just as Alina called to the light, gathering and twisting it into a ball in her hands, the door swung open.

Kirigan blacked out the door frame. His appearance enough would have surprised Alina, but there was something clutched in his arm, something dark and floppy. It almost looked like the stuffed toys that had been passed around to the younger Orphans." - Alina and The Darkling bond over a love of soft things

---

Soft stuffed animal shenanigans. Bits of trans!Aleksander, which I’m very fond of, as well as just a lot of fluff with a bit of something bittersweet and sad in a good way.

Half Lie by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Baghra always talked of the demon that had stolen her daughter." Or, Alina learns the hard way that the Darkling isn't the only one who deals in half-truths

---

This one is trans!Aleksander, and it handles it in a very interesting way. It’s quite sad, and deals a lot with Baghra & Aleksander’s relationship through Alina’s POV. I want to give a warning for transphobia, because it does center around that a lot as the premise, but it really is worth the read if that isn’t a trigger for you. This is one of my favorite trans!Aleksander fics, and the way it handles emotion and grief and pain is quite extraordinary.

The CEO and Helioseismologist by mrthology (Complete)

Aleksander Morozova doesn't get sick. He's the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world, one that he had built from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears. He exercised daily (usually), maintained a healthy diet, and kept himself fit.

He wasn’t sick.

Too bad no one believed him. And too bad Genya decided to call Ivan to take him home before also calling Alina to take care of him.

Maybe, just maybe, being sick wasn't so bad. Especially not when he has such a wonderful girlfriend.

---

Both of the fics in this series are great, but I love this one in particular because I’m an absolute sucker for hurt/comfort. Anyone who’s been on my blog for a while knows that it’s my all time favorite trope to read, and this fic fits the hurt/comfort trope to a T in the best of ways. It’s very tender and in character, and Aleksander and Alina are so soft with each other. It’s adorable and really makes you feel for Aleksander, and the caretaking is done perfectly.

All the different layers of dark (thousand little suns) by Anuna (Complete)

One month after the Winter Fete, Aleksander returns to the Little Palace, and Alina has been missing him.

Episode five canon divergence in which Alina had never left Os Alta.

---

This one is soft emotional hurt/comfort smut. They’re both so open and vulnerable with each other, and it’s so beautiful to read. I love the writing style and the emotion in this one. It makes my heart ache in the best way.

An Honourable Man by liviy695 (Complete)

A reimagining of the scene after the winter fete. Alina catches a glimpse of a caring Darkling after he returns from integrating the Conductor. Plus, no Baghra interference.

---

This one is what it says on the tin, in that Baghra doesn’t interfere and they’re allowed to talk after the Darkling interrogates the Conductor. But more than that, it’s a great imagining of how a scene where Aleksander reveals Marie’s death would have gone. There’s a sort of quiet to it that I appreciate, with grief and solemnity weighed against care and vulnerability.

I see the real you (even if you don’t, I do) by Anonymous (Incomplete - 8/?)

A series of questionable decisions lead Alina to meet the Black General a bit earlier. Butterfly effect ensues.

---

I’ve only read half so far (I hadn’t realized it had updated!! 👀👀) but I’m already in love with this fic. Alina’s dialogue and perspective is perfect, her relationship with Mal and the other cartographers is great, and I really enjoy how much personality she has. Aleksander is so smitten, but more than that, his characterization is soft but not weak. It feels almost as if he’s swept up by Alina, instead of the other way around, and I quite like that.

Of parenting by Anuna (Complete)

Alina finds out how her husband handled yet another parenting situation.

---

This is pure adorable Darklina parenting fluff and I live for it. Yet it doesn’t lack depth and in fact explored Alina and Aleksander’s relationship with parenting quite well.

i have a longing by LRCee - @ladylyannastark (Complete)

“So, Alina Starkov, risk-taker, how did you end up being editing’s newest wunderkind?”

Alina Starkov is rising in the publishing world. Singlehandedly responsible for editing (see: rewriting) the hottest book of the year, she lands a coveted spot at Morovoz Publishers. It's the position she's always wanted, at the biggest publishing house in the country. Life is perfect. That crush on her boss though, that's gotta go.

---

OKAY! I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH!! Let me tell you, as someone who is not too fond of Boss/Employee dynamics, I was very wary going into this fic. But boy did it deliver in a way that was perfect for me.

The relationship that develops between Aleksander and Alina is complex but healthy, and it never feels as if there’s too much of a power imbalance or anything that would make Alina feel forced or unhappy. The tension lies purely in how she fears others will perceive her, and not in how unhealthy her relationship with Aleksander is. For somebody who’s often attracted to unhealthy ships, I have to say that my favorite fics are usually ones that don’t have that type of dynamic between the characters. This fic delivers on that.

Also, Aleksander’s POV surrounding his struggle with his Russian heritage and his feelings for Alina is amazing, and has some of the best writing and characterization I’ve seen.

You receive: an evil demon; I receive: human souls by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

The next morning while she tried to tell herself it was a dream, that of course there wasn’t a fucking demon in her house, she found a note taped to her fridge.

“You might eat this shit,” it had written, “but I would like some fucking souls please.”

Darkling Week Prompt 7: free choice. Alina has a demon in her house.

This is absolute crack, and I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.

---

May I just say that this is the most fun I’ve ever had when reading a fic. It’s interesting with a bit of mystery, and Aleksander as a little shit of a demon is hilarious. Alina in this fic is great too. It’s such a unique take on her POV, especially when you reread it after knowing the ending. 10000/10, this fic is brilliant in every way and I love it.

I had been lost to you, Sunlight by BrytteMystere (Complete)

A Girl became a Woman, became a Sankta, became a Goddess.

Or: An Immortal Alina calls upon merzost to reunite with the Prince of Shadows she lost long ago. She may have lost herself in the process.

But then again, maybe time and endless wars did that instead.

---

You really just have to read this one to get it. It is utterly haunting and fascinating in the best of ways. The writing style is strange and novel and fits so well with the story being told. The composition of the fic as a whole is genius.

I Look Inside Myself (And See My Heart Is Black) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"When is a monster not a monster? Why, when you love it, of course."

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 6: Favorite Quote • King & Queen • Monster

---

Once more, this author comes through with an absolutely breathtaking writing style and story. The imagery is elegant yet brutal, simultaneously horrifying and glorious. There’s a certain way these stories are written, like fairytales, where the beautiful becomes the macabre and becomes ever more stunning because of it. It’s very dark but in a good way - an almost bewitching way.

Afterlife by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“You are asking me to leave?”

“Not asking, shadow,” she said. “Telling. Time to get unlost, loser.”

Day 3 Darklina Week prompt: Modern AU (I mean, barely)

Alina expels ghosts from purgatory.

---

@aceofnowhere once again bringing the best of the paranormal to the Grishaverse. Literally everything you write is amazing idk why I’m even pointing out individual fics when I could just rec your whole page. But anyways!! This is fun and interesting and Alina is a badass. Aleksander is, of course, compelling and dark and kind of a little shit, and it’s all incorporated seamlessly into an existential paranormal narrative.

Once Upon a Shooting Star by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"But most of all, she was drawn to a vast darkness that reached out above all of them, a void so hungry for companionship that she knew she could fulfill."

---

Let. Alina. Be. Feral!! Anyways, I clearly have a type when it comes to storytelling, and it’s whatever the fuck this person has got going on. Feral!Star!Alina is literally the light of my life. Her interactions with not only other people but the world in general are so well done, but my favorite parts about this fic are the numerous ways her relationship with Aleksander is described and depicted.

I love the dark and light imagery, especially with how it’s portrayed as them filling in the gaps of each other’s lives and supporting each other instead of trying to block each other out. There’s such clear passion and joy and love and devotion between them. The central focus of this fic is on her and Aleksander’s relationship, the interplay between them and their powers and the way her light fills his loneliness, the passing of adoration and trust and reliance between them. It’s very beautiful and I love it.

A Blaze of Light by Keira_63 (Complete)

They discover the Sun Summoner in the burnt-out remains of the Shu laboratory in which she has spent the last seven years of her life.

Or, the Darkling finds himself with a Sun Summoner whose greatest wish is to burn Shu Han to the ground. He is happy to oblige her.

---

👀👀 Badass Alina and Badass Aleksander. The ultimate power couple, and Alina burning a path through Shu Han before they both burn a path through the world together. The darkness and rage in this one are handled very well, and the way that rage turns to coldness and then resolve is done so well. This fic is very cathartic and also very furious, and reading it is certainly a trip down emotion lane.

One more for the Road by Rist (Complete)

He returns to the war room shaken, and finds an Alina that cannot leave without at least having tried.

---

This one hurts so much but its soooo gooood!!! Very smutty but also very tender and very bittersweet. Sad and soft all at once. I just... love the way Alina and Aleksander are written so much, and Alina’s complicated feelings for him are explored in such detail and depth. This one is truly worth the read.

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shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean · 4 years ago

Text

ONLY WANT YOU.

Pairing : Shawn Mendes × reader

Genre : Angst, smut, fluff

Warnings : Swearing, Daddy kink, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dom!Shawn, Self depreciation(very mild), oral (male receiving)

Summary : The reader and Shawn have an intense argument and then Shawn let's the reader know who's the one he wants.

You were more than worried now. It had been precisely 2 hours 14 minutes since Shawn left. You really managed to send him over the edge. You didn't want to. You didn't mean it. But you can't help it when all of the world is pining for what's not true. He's yours but no, everyone wants him and camila to be together.

Camila was such a lovely lady. You couldn't help but feel insecure. She was everything you'd want to be. Hell, she was beautiful and the worst part you wanted to hate her but you couldn't. She had that aura.

You and Shawn were in it for long. That's what you thought at least. You knew he was the one for you. And you believed you were too for him until recently.

Ever since the PR began after Senorita was out you couldn't help but question everything. Your bond with Shawn seemed to weaken. You found yourself distancing from him. You didn't want to. You never did. Everytime you saw an article in some shitty tabloid your breath got caught. You felt you couldn't breathe. You knew it was fake but guess these two were really good actors cause it didn't seem unreal it to you.

You tried to calm yourself. Remind yourself you were overanalysing the sitch. He is your boyfriend. He will be home soon. Then you can be in his strong arms and feel safe and secure. But none of it worked.

All this while, since the PR managers suggested this, Shawn had made sure to get you involved. Let you be a part of everything that's been happening or is going to in future. Make sure you're comfortable with it. And boy, did you say yes cause you didn't wanna hold him down. But now when he was not with you for the holidays, when he had to fly out every weekend to Miami you felt your nerves kick in.

You hated yourself for being such a hypocrite. Shawn never once made you feel secluded but your overthinker ass ravaged everything.

You were certain he hated you now. This was the longest you two had gone without talking after that intense a fight.

Shawn was back home after three months. You were so excited for him to be with you for a whole week now, until you saw that article. You knew it meant nothing but seeing your boyfriend sticking his tongue down another women's throat got the best of you. You didn't think it was going to affect you so bad when you said yes to the whole PR stuff but now you just didn't know how to feel.

You never told Shawn when your anxiety kicked in seeing him with her because you didn't want to seem like a hypocrite. But weren't you one?

You just suffered quietly. Tried to let it pass. It'd end soon. That's how you always calmed your raging nerves. You became quieter. Stopped being your bubbly self when Shawn called. He obviously noticed. He knew you better than you yourself. He just couldn't figure the issue cause you had so convincingly persuaded him to believe you were fine with it all.

"Hun, I'm home. " Shawn said as he closed the door after settling his luggage beside the shoe cabinet right at the entrance of your shared apartment.

When he got no response he was stressed. He expected you to pounce on him as soon as he opened the gate but there was no sign of you.

He kicked his shoes off and then remembered how it'd annoy you so much, laughed to himself and went back to put them in the cabinet before calling out for you again.

"Y/N, baby I'm home. "

He checked the living room. You weren't there. The kitchen next. No sign of you anywhere. He didn't expect you to be asleep cause it was just 7 and you were a night owl getting all pumped with energy as the clock hit 6 pm. This was your best time of the day and Shawn certainly had decided to make the best of it but you were nowhere to be found.

He wouldn't lie he was disappointed when you didn't fling yourself into his arms and peppered his face with cute wet kisses and were all clingy and lovey with him. He missed you so much.

He went to your bedroom, your shared room. Checked the whole house but there was no sign of you. He felt all that excitement dial down.

He decided to call you, obviously.

You didn't pick up.

He was worried now. He called your best friend cause you usually liked to hangout with her at evenings like this, discussing your medical school stuff and just chilling at times. She didn't pick up either. He called your mom and she told him that you were out with Y/F/N and she thought that he already knew.

Shawn was more than upset. He felt a little angry because you had been acting so not yourself and this was the least he could expect from you. There was something wrong obviously but why wouldn't you talk to him. Every time he tried to talk, you'd just make some excuse. He was tired now and this was what sent him over the edge. He tried calling you after an hour again. Just to get back a text saying "I'll be home late. Dinner's in the fridge. Don't wait for me. "

He was pissed off. Really bad.

You came home around 10:30 at night. You knew this wasn't fair to Shawn. After you saw that article you just couldn't. You had to let some seam off. Y/F/N called you and asked you if you'd wanna come to a small party they were throwing for Tom, a batchmate of yours Shawn had a huge disliking towards. Tom had asked you out cause he didn't know you had a boyfriend and he made it very clear that he liked you a lot. Shawn didn't take that well, obviously. He hated Tom's guts.

You wanted to get on his nerves after seeing the article. So you did.

You put on your sexiest one piece Shawn got for you year on your graduation day. The nerve of you. You informed your mom cause you knew Shawn would call her as you didn't plan on picking up his phone.

You opened the door with your key. The click noise made Shawn wake up from his light slumber.

You knew you had pulled off real shit and well consequences weren't gonna be good.

As you went inside. You saw the food was out on the counter but untouched. Shawn was in the living room, glaring at you.

"Where were you, Y/N? " He asked you with a voice dangerously low sending chills down your spine.

But heh you had enough liquid courage to be a douche at this point.

"Hello to you too. " You said in a rude tone.

"I said where the fuck were you, Y/N? It's been three goddamn hours. I have been so stressed what the hell is wrong with you. You didn't even care to tell me yourself. What the fuck?" He snapped at you moving towards you in the kitchen where you were pouring some water for yourself.

" I was at Tom's birthday party with Y/F/N." You said non chalantly.

His eyes shot up. Going wide.

" So you decided to go to that fucker's party instead of being with me. I'm home after three fucking months for fuck's sake." He yelled from across the counter.

You flinched hearing his tone but snapped right back. "Well what am I supposed to do Shawn? Sit here like a fool while you stick your tongue down her throat. All I see are pictures of you two making out every fucking where so am I just supposed to fucking wait for you after getting ten thousand notifications showing my boyfriend and his fucking girlfriend!? "

He took in a deep breath as if to not do anything wrong. The change on his face was scary. He just went from angry and worried to nothing. His face went expressionless. The tension getting thicker with every passing second.

You realised how wrong you were instantly. Hands flying to cover your mouth. " Shawn, i-... I am.. I didn't mean it. Bab-"

"You fucking meant it, Y/N. I can't even. You've got to be kidding me. " He took his Jeep's keys and headed for the gate. You tried to stop him by touching his shoulder but the look he gave you made you feel disgusted with yourself. He slammed the gate as he went out. Tears made their way down your cheeks smudging all your make up.

You sank down right where you were beside the kitchen counter. You hated yourself in this moment more than you ever had. The one person who always put your needs first, cared for you more than himself, you managed to make him hate you. You were certain he did.

You ran took your phone called Shawn. Over and over again. 5 calls went unanswered. You were perturbed. Didn't know what to do. Didn't know where he could be. You wanted to just be in his arms. You didn't deserve it but you felt home. His arms were your home. And you just ruined it all. Your baseless insecurities did.

You sat there helpless, loathing yourself. You don't know when sleep took over you. When you woke up it was 12. You got up in haste, drowning in worry. It had been an hour and a half since he left. You called him again and again to no avail. You lost the best thing you ever had and you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself after what you did.

You decided leaving was the best. He anyway wouldn't want you near him. Shawn deserved the world. He deserved the best. And then there was you who gave him nothing but hurled insults at him.

Tears didn't stop flowing at a point you felt you didn't have anymore left but you were wrong. You went up to your bedroom. Taking out a suitcase. You didn't want to bother him more. You weren't worth it.

You put in your essentials in the bag, moving to the closet after that. You changed into one of your hoodies. It was his. All of your clothes were basically his. You needed to wear them to feel home when he wasn't around. He loved them on you but now you weren't so sure. You anyway did it. One hoodie wouldn't upset him.

As you were done packing you checked the time it was over 2 hours. You wanted to die right at this moment. Shawn was not picking up your calls. You called Geoff earlier, he had no idea where Shawn was. Now you decided to call Karen. You didn't know what to do. You had already asked Andrew if Shawn was at the studio. You didn't want to stress everywhere cause Shawn didn't get mad easily but when he did it was bad. Extremely bad.

Just as you were about to call Karen you felt yourself being turned around, moved towards the closet door, a pair of strong arms pulling you and then his warm swollen lips being attached to yours. You melted right then. You didn't know how to respond. You couldn't believe it. Were you dreaming? But as you let it sink in, it was your Shawn kissing you. His smell invaded your senses making you feel alive again. Those lips moulded with yours felt like heaven. Tears made their way out of your eyes again. Lips starting to move against his. Hands going into his hair tugging at it as he devoured you. You didn't realize he was crying too until you opened your eyes. His eyes blood shot, cheeks tear stained. You hated you were the reason for his disheveled state. You hated yourself.

You broke the kiss. Not being able to look him in the eyes. Trying to catch your breath.

After a few minutes of total silence you figured this was goodbye. You started moving towards your suitcase.

As he saw what you were doing he let out a loud groan. He wanted to knock some sense into you and he decided he will.

He held your arm pulling you towards himself, asking with a hoarse voice "Where do you think you are going? "

"I'm sorry, Shawn. I just....you deserve better. I'll leave, I wanted to ask you if I can take this one hoodie? If you want it back I understand. I just didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean anything I said earlier. It just I was a little drunk you know it's I'm so terribly sorry. " You rambled didn't realising when you started sobbing.

You felt his arms wrap around you. Engulfing you in a loving hug. You broke down. He was still being so considerate when all you did was break his heart.

"Shush honey. Y/N, I am right here. You're not going anywhere."

"I am sorry. So sorry. I-.. I'll leave. "

"Baby, I said you are not going anywhere. I need you hun. You remember, it's forever." He said in his beautiful voice showing you his promise ring. The one you got him three months back. Just before he left.

You looked up at him through your crys. You wanted to see if he hated you or not. He could lie to you but his eyes could never. To your surprise all you saw was worry and love. A sense of relief washed over you. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding all this while.

"I love you baby. We are okay. I'm sorry I shouldn't have left like this."

"No no no Shawn. You.. I.... I'm so fucking terrible. I didn't mean anything earlier. I just wanted to I don't know I'm a fool. I was so scared I lost you forever. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. "

"No bub, I get where you're coming from. I understand. Just seeing you go to his birthday party made my blood boil. Seeing me with Camila, making out, holding hands I get it. I'm sorry. You should have told me, Y/N. I always wanted you to be comfortable with it. Although I shouldn't have put you in that spot when I know you won't ever say anything that's not in favour of my career. "

" I just didn't wanna hold you back, Shawn. I knew it was important but seeing you with her I just can't help but compare myself to her. I'm so pathetic. I hate myself. "

" Hey don't you ever say that about my baby. She's the best. Okay? Most beautiful, most caring, loving, selfless and she has the best legs. Her ass is so sexy. Her curves. Those lips I never wanna let go off. " He said his hands on your ass massaging it. You let out a low moan. It had been so long.

You wanted Shawn more than anything . His head dipped down to your neck, your head falling back. It felt unreal to be this close to him again. Especially after that sick stunt you pulled off.

He bit you at your soft spot and you jumped in his arms making him chuckle. He licked it to soothe it and you moaned. Not being able to control how overwhelmed you were after months of no physical contact with him.

"By the way that dress, baby. Not a smart move wearing it to Tom's birthday party, was it? " He said as his hands creeped up inside your hoodie sending shivers up your spine.

You just moaned in response only to receive a light tug at your bum.

"Words, honey. Use your words with me. " He said in that deep voice making your knees turn into jelly.

"Yes daddy. It was so stupid of me. Sorry daddy. " You said in your most innocent voice. Eyes looking glossy.

Shawn literally lost it there. Letting out a low growl. " Fuck Y/N." He turned you around. Making you face the mirror on your vanity. Your ass pressed onto his front. You could feel him already getting hard against your thigh. "Say it again." He commanded in a low voice. So you did feeling yourself getting wet. The pool in your panties becoming larger. "Mmm Daddy." You moaned as he moved your hair onto one side tilting your head so that he could assault your neck again. He knew how much you loved it when he did this.

"You know I wanted to take you right when you entered the house. Looking so pretty in that dress. Daddy got so worked up, baby. Only if you weren't being an annoying little brat." He said bringing his hand on your left boob cupping it under your hoodie.

"No bra? You're being very naughty I see."

"Sorrrryyy daddy. Sorry for being a little brat. I need you, daddy." You couldn't take his assault anymore. You whined. You just wanted him to fuck you into oblivion. Wanted him to be rough with you. Wanted to be close to him. As close that even air couldn't get in between the two of you.

"My hun is eager, I see. What do you want honey?" He asked.

"Want daddy to fuck me. Hard." You answered. Your eyes closed as he played with your tits. You could already feel yourself dripping on your thigh.

"Fuck baby. Getting daddy so hard huh? But do you deserve it after what you did."

"No daddy I have been bad. Very bad." You said. Extremely excited for what was in store for you. Shawn being a little rough and dominant always got you in the mood no matter when and where. That was his effect. The fact that only you got to see this side of the otherwise always a sweetheart gentle giant Shawn worked wonders on you. You loved it and he knew that.

"Hmm so kitten what is your punishment then?" Shawn whispered in your left ear. Making goosebumps arise on your body.

"Spanks, daddy. I have to count."

"Mm look at you being so good. How many do you deserve baby? "

"6 daddy? "

"Isn't that very less for what you did hun? Make it 10."

"Okay daddy."

He tugged at your hands as an indication for you to raise them so that he could take off his large hoodie of you. Leaving you only in your black lace panties. Looking at your almost naked body, Shawn couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Hands immediately cupping both your boobs. "So beautiful kitten."

"Thank you, daddy."

He proceeded on to take off his shirt. His biceps flexing in the process making your mouth water. You still were in a haze. This man, literally Adonis was yours? How'd you get so lucky? His flawless skin. The little hair peppering his chest. The defined pecs. His abs. You didn't even realise you were gawking at him. Literally with your mouth open. A chuckle brought you back to reality. Getting flushed instantly.

"Mmm definitely enjoying what you see hun. Come here." He said sitting at the edge of the bed opening his legs so that you could bend over his thighs. You did as told.

"Want these off baby. " He tugged at your panties. Before you could even move to get them off. He ripped them apart in half as if it was nothing. You got wetter if that was possible.

"Now bend." He said. You did as told. You bent over his lap.

"Count baby." He growled as his hand slapped your right ass cheek. A loud moan leaving your lips. "One."

Another spank at the same place. Making it become an angry red. "Two." You whined.

Shawn saw your wetness dripping down your thighs forcing a strangled moan out of him. His fingers immediately going to your freshly shaved pussy lips. "You are enjoying this so much kitten? " He asked as his fingers dipped in your folds, you almost screaming at the sudden action, then he took them in his mouth. You sublimated right that moment. If this wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever seen you didn't know what was. You felt pure bliss.

Still in that euphoria you didn't realize how time passed and his hand came in contact with your ass again. Harder than before.

"Three." You cried. Your ass blood red. Tears threatening to fall out of your eyes any second. Just for a second Shawn's demeanor faltered. He seemed to be having second thoughts. He couldn't hurt you. His hand soothingly titillating the area.

You, as if, read his thoughts and told him to continue. "It hurts so good, daddy." That was all he needed. "You're doing so good kitten. Just two more." With that his hand came down again not so hard this time. You moaned, loving the burning sensation.

He repeated the same with your left cheek. You started to cry by the time he was done. He took you in his arms. Making you face him. Straddling his lap. "Did so good for me baby." You rested your head on his shoulder. Your bare pussy against the rough fabric of his jeans. His thick thighs clenching. And you started to grind your self on his thigh. You didn't even realise when. The pleasure seeming to only increase with each thrust of your hips. You let out a moan at the same time as Shawn, it's what made reality dawn upon you. Your actions halted thinking he'd want to punish you, maybe.

When you looked into his eyes, they were darker than before, almost black, filled with insatiable hunger. A wave of confidence hit you. Your movements resumed. Your pace a little faster now. Your hands made way around his neck, wrapping them for support as he held you by your waist. His eyes boring into yours, you felt yourself melt. "I want you to get off my thigh, Y/N. Don't stop until you cum." He said in a voice that was enough to do it for you. He sounded so fucking sexy you couldn't even make sense of it. "Okay daddy." With that you increased your pace. His toned muscles flexing with your movements. It felt like heaven. You felt the fire burn in you. That familiar pit. Shawn kept on cooing filthy things in your ear sending you over the edge even faster. You held onto him for dear life as you came, nails digging in his skin. This was different. The way he responded to your actions. It felt unreal. It was beyond amazing.

"Felt so good daddy." You said as you went to kiss him. He captured your lips with his, kissing you with burning passion. You poured all your apologies, how ashamed you were of your unreasonable behavior, your unconditional love for him, all in that kiss. It conveying more than you could vocally have.

"Look at you hun, ruined daddy's pants huh? Looked like a goddess getting off of my thigh. You like it?"

"Loved it daddy. I love 'em."

He wrapped your legs around his waist as if you weighed nothing, standing up. He threw you on the bed. Taking his pants off along with his boxers. His thick member sprang out of the confines hitting his abdomen making the most unholy noise. You almost gasped at how terribly hard he was. It must be painful.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, reaching the edge. "Can I taste you, daddy? "

"Fuck. Go ahead baby."

"Mmm okay." You said as you reached for him. Getting in between his thighs. Making him sit on the bed and getting on your knees on the floor. You wanted to make him feel just as good as you felt. And boy were you determined.

You took his length in your hands. Spreading the precum all over it and your lips pulling out a pornographic moan off him. He stared at you in awe. Looking so pretty with his cock in your hands, on your knees for him. So wet, your juices dripping everywhere. It was nasty and he loved it.

You took his balls in your mouth, caressing his cock, all the prominent veins and the angry red tip making you salivate. You started running your hands up and down him. Sucking his balls. "Fuck honey, so good. Go on." He caressed your hair. "Always so good for me." You released his balls from your mouth with a pop sound and licked his underside from the base to the tip, feeling each vein. You took his tip in your mouth making him almost stop breathing. "Such a good girl, Y/N. Doing amazing." He moaned. It felt like music to your ears. You finally took him all in. He let out a loud whine. The warmth of your mouth making him dizzy. You started moving your head faster, almost releasing him fully then taking as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You loved giving Shawn a head. Hell you loved doing everything to him. Anything you did for him, with him was automatically your favorite. You felt what a dumbass you were to even think of leaving him. He's the best thing that has happened to you ever. He's your present and your future. You can't let yourself ruin that. Shawn abruptly stopped you. Pulling himself out of your mouth. You gave him a confused look. "What's wrong, Shawn?" "Not gonna last long, baby. Wanna feel you. Be inside you. Come here." He scooped you in his arms. Made you lay on the bed facing the vanity mirror. He came up beside you. His large body engulfing you as he spooned you. You reached down taking him in your hands, not being able to take anymore teasing. You needed him in you. Wanted to feel full again. It almost felt like the first time today. Your emotions all over the place, being so raw. You loved every microsecond of it. You lined him with yourself, almost about to take him in when Shawn took control. "Calm down. You know Y/N, good girls don't behave like this." "Sorry." You mumbled grumpily. His hand wrapped around your throat. Pressing lightly. Fuck, you got wetter if that was humanely even possible. You felt you might cum right then. "Sorry, what honey? Be good." "Sorry Daddy." "Mmm better." He said as he rubbed his tip at your slit. Teasing you like always. "So wet for me, honey. You've ruined all the sheets." You just moaned loudly in response incapable of forming a coherent sentence. He slowly pushed inside you. He was so fucking big. It hurt. He stretched you out so well. Relief washing you over. Feeling him in you made you feel complete. He stilled once he was inside letting you adjust. "Move baby? " He asked. "Mmm fuck. Yes daddy." You said.

His hand moved from your throat to your clit, rubbing you as he fucked you hard from behind. Your eyes started to close which as soon as he noticed he stopped. You whined so loudly at this it was almost shocking for you. "Open your eyes, baby if you want me to continue. Watch us in the mirror. Watch how daddy fucks you so good." And you saw the most obscene sight. His one hand rubbing your clit. You could see his cock move in and out of you. Other hand on your left boob pressing it hard. You couldn't help but whimper at the beautiful view. So dirty. You loved it.

His pace got faster as he dipped his neck into the crook of your neck leaving hickeys. Your hand reaching back holding onto his arm. Your nails scratching him, digging into his skin.

The feeling of bliss took over you as you yelled "I'm going to cum, Shawn." "Come for me, honey. I'm gonna cum too." His pace faltered becoming slower. He was close too. He rubbed your little nub faster, the nerves started burning at his assault.

"Aaah fuck fuck fuck daddy." With that you came all over him, him following you almost instantly. He let out a grunt as he came inside you, filling you up. Riding you both to the end of your orgasms.

He stayed like that for a few minutes. Not moving at all. Then he pulled out of you. Getting up to go to the bathroom like he always did. He came back with a wet towel, cleaning you up so gently. Then he cleaned himself up with the same towel. And you don't know but this always felt so intimate to you. More than all that you guys just did. Him cleaning you both up with the same towel made your heart flutter. You were so fallen for him you didn't know yourself.

He came back after dumping the towel with the dirty laundry.

As soon as he came to bed, you snuggled into his chest. He was your home. You felt so safe. No one could hurt you with him there. Not even you, yourself. He'd protect you.

A single tear slipped from your eye as you both lay in comfortable silence cuddled with each other. As he noticed it, in the sweetest voice ever he said "It's okay baby. You don't have to even think about what happened earlier, again. I knew it'd affect you badly and I still went for it. I knew if I asked you, you'd never say no. So it was me taking you for granted, hun. You're not at fault. It was me, baby. I put you in that spot."

"Oh shut up, Mendes. Always making me seem so good. It was my and only my fault. Don't you dare blame it on yourself. And I'm so so sorry. I won't ever doubt what we have. It's the most real thing I have felt in my whole 22 years of existence. I love you so much, words can't even express it."

"But you do in other ways. You know." He smirked making you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly in his chest.

"You riding my thigh was the most fucking hot view ever. Trust me, I almost came."

"Oh shut it and let me sleep." You said all flustered about what you did.

"One last thing, baby. "

"Hmm? "

"You're the only one I want. "

You cuddled more into him finally being able to fall asleep soundly in your home.

Taglist: @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-youth @itsalwaysbeen305 @perfectlywrongsm @particularnarry @wholesomemendes @myboyshawn @myboyshawnie @imaginashawnns @camilalewiss @swiftmendeshoran @princecharmingmendes @fallinallincurls @glitterypositivityforaesthetic @shawnpetermuffins @stylesharrys @shawnblanc @shawn-mendes-thirst @shawnftchris @lonelyreputation

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And How'd you guys like the shot? I'd really appreciate if you all leave feedbacks. Thank you lovelies! ❣

#shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #benito-mi-vida #shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes× reader #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn×yn #shawn and camila #only want you

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