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bigolclownman11037 · 1 year

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Requesting Rules :)

Hello Friends Welcome To My Cringe Fanfic Haven :)

Here Are The Rules For Requesting

Fandoms You Can Request From(In Alphabetical Order):

Aggretsuko

A Date With Death

Bendy And The Ink Machine + Bendy And The Dark Revival

Black Butler

Castoff

Cooking Companions

Cuphead

Danganronpa(No Anime Exclusives + No Hifumi Yamada Or Haji Towa)

Death Note

Demon Slayer

Doki Doki Literature Club

Dont Hug Me Im Scared

Ena

Encanto

Five Nights At Freddy's

Friday Night Funkin + Mods

Fundamental Paper Education

Genshin Impact

Hazbin Hotel + Helluva Boss

Hooky

Hunter X Hunter

Kakegurui + Kakegurui Twin

Magical Girl Site

Marionetta

Metal Family

My Hero Academia(No Movie Exclusives)

Miraculous: Tales Of Ladybug And Cat Noir

Murder Drones

My Little Pony: Equestria Girls(Human Vers)

Omori

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Panty & Stocking With Garterbelt

Pokemon(Only Indigo League, XY/XYZ, And Sun And Moon)

Poppy Playtime(Only Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy, Mommy Long Legs, Catnap, Dogday)

Psycho Cuties

Puella Magi Madoka Magica + Magica Records

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish

Sally Face

Scott Pilgrim

Scratchin' Melodii

Steven Universe

Super Mario

Splatoon

Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun

Toradora

The Promised Neverland

The Coffin Of Andy And Leyley

The Book Of Life

The Amazing Digital Circus

The Kid At The Back

Undertale(AUs Included) + Deltarune

Yandere Simulator(No Mida, Muja, Or Hanako)

You And Me And Her: A Love Story

WataMote: No Matter How I Look At It, Its You Guys Fault I'm Unpopular

Welcome Home

What I Will Write:

Character X Readers

Headcannons Including Those Alphabet Headcannon Things(See What Itll Look Like: Here!)

Any Genre Except Smut(I Suck Ass At Writing Smut Trust Me You Dont Want Any From Me)

Deres(Yandere, Tsundere, Etc)

All AUs Except Baby/Child AUs And Highschool/College AUs(No Reason, Just Dont Like Them)

Platonic, Romantic, One-sided, And Polyamorous Relationships

I Write Crossovers(Maximum Amount Of Fandoms In Crossover Is 3)

Cheating Relationships

What I Wont Write:

Oc X Character Or Character X Character.

Any Disorders Or Stuff With Cultural Themes(I Dont Wanna Write Stuff If I Dont Have Any Experience With It)

Teacher X Student Even If Both Are Consenting Adults

Romantic Oneshots For Characters Under 12

Horrible Shit Like Noncon, Pedophilia, Incest, Abuse, ETC

Other Important Stuff:

I Take 5 Requests At A Time(When Requests Are Full I Write It In My Bio And On The Request Box So Check Before Requesting)

Dont Demand I Write Your Request, Ill Write What I Want Too.

Dont Rush Me To Finish Your Requests, Im Also A Human Who Has A Life And Stuff To Do.

You Can Request As Much As You Want Just Wait Until Your Previous Request Is Finished.

I Dont Want Criticism On My Writing(I Know Its Bad) Unless I Ask For It. Its Not Constructive Criticism Unless Its Asked For.

Also Heres My Masterlist :)

Anyways Thats It :)

#request #x reader

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everwitch-magiks · 3 years

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RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

#First prince #FirstPrince #red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont-diaz #Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor #evie writes #fanfiction

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let-it-show · 3 years

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Ssshh It’s Playtime

I am tired as heck and it was a struggle, but I did manage to do writing again for tonight’s prompt of Whispers/Kisses. Now, why is Elsa hiding??

"Why are you behind this curtain?"

Elsa startled at the sound of Olaf's voice and whipped around to face him, her finger to her lips. "Sshh! Olaf ssshh..." She checked the thick red curtain and drew it around herself and the little snowman. Once again she was concealed, even if it might look funny on the other side. She hoped not.

Olaf blinked and moved closer to the window. "Why are you behind this curtain?" he asked again in a whisper. It still seemed too loud. "And...why is there a pile of snowballs?"

Elsa looked at the pile and wished for a moment she was wearing something other than her old sky blue nightgown. If she had a cape to throw over the snowballs, Olaf wouldn't be in there asking questions. "Oh. You see...I have to get Anna back for making me freeze myself to the door earlier so I was going to throw these at her when she goes by." Her cheeks warmed. It felt silly to tell anyone what she was up to.

"Oh!" Olaf grinned. "That sounds fun! Can I help?" he asked, chuckling.

"Yes but- you have to be quiet," she whispered. "Like me. These old walls echo, after all." Anna may hear if she walked in alone. If she came in chatting, it would be easy, though she would be careful not to catch anyone else in the crossfire.

Olaf smiled and nodded. "Okay. I'll be quiet. They aren't hard packed are they?"

"Of course not! I'm going to mess with her, that's all. It'll be like being hit with fluff."

"Fluff," Olaf repeated in a whisper that was finally low enough. "Elsa...you know how I'm getting a little older and more mature?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I'm confused. The kids in town always play and sometimes I still join. But everyone else who is prehistoric - isn't that a cool word? - like you and Anna, doesn't do these things. Snowball fights and chasing each other around. You said your pillow fights aren't for me to join but I assume they're a game too. Is playing normal to do for your whole life?"

It was such an honest and surprising question that Elsa just stared for a moment. She hadn't expected Olaf to be the one to ask her something like that because he was always so carefree, but he was also trying to understand more. Elsa found herself unsure how to answer him, because her own answer would be biased, and rooted in the childhood she didn't have.

But then...she also didn't know what other families were like at home. Maybe some adults acted like her and Anna.

"Well Olaf, that's hard for me to answer. When I was younger I wanted to play with Anna every day, and she wanted to play with me. She had so much energy, and I was lonely, but we couldn't have fun with each other after the incident." She had wanted to ride the bike around the hall. She wanted to play with dolls in a giant dollhouse. It didn't matter that Anna made everything including the chaos causing dragons fall in love. Playing with her little sister had been fun and imaginative.

She was almost lost in thought, but Olaf tugged at her gown. "Elsa?"

"Oh!" She yelped and covered her mouth. "Oh, sorry," she said quieter. "Well...we never really got to play anymore. For years. And even though its been a few years since we were reunited, there's....there's so, so much to make up for. There's fun we never had, and fun to be had. Once Anna and I started to have fun and play all the games we never got to, I found I didn't want to stop. I hope we never stop. Maybe some grow out of it Olaf, but I'm not sure we ever will. And why should we, anyway?" she asked, looking at him for an answer.

"I thought...it's the responsible thing to do? But that doesn't make sense..." he answered her question with a question. "Gee, I guess there's no good answer for that, is there?"

Elsa shook her head, a smile on her lips. "Nope. I asked myself that when I began to settle in my new life, open about my powers. But then I was making ice rinks every week, creating stories and toys with my magic and even Anna was there being wowed." Anna's eyes had sparkled with wonder and Elsa was never tired of seeing that. That was another element she kept private - she loved how happy Anna was when she played. She was cute, she was bouncy, she made Elsa's heart beat stronger. "Anna and I started with throwing snowballs at each other and it just kept going. We get to prank each other and kid around like we couldn't before."

"It never ever seems weird no matter how much older you get?"

"No. When have our lives been anything other than weird anyway? I have a son that's a snowman," she said, fondly patting Olaf's cheek with a grin. "I wouldn't trade this odd life for anything."

Olaf chuckled and gazed up at her with fondness. "That's good, being traded would be a little strange."

"It would-oh!" Elsa heard a door open and she moved her hand over Olaf's mouth even though he wasn't talking. "I-oops, sorry," she hissed, pulling her hand back while he just shook her head. She listened carefully, to be sure it was Anna.

"And then- and then he just looked at me! Like that! With that one tooth half out of his mouth! I asked him if it hurt and he didn't answer that, but he did try to sell me his cow, which of course, I don't need." Anna's voice, talking to someone.

"Wow. I guess you'll think twice before you stop by that shop again." It was Kristoff's voice.

Kristoff! Oh, Elsa didn't even have to worry about crossfire. She reached behind her for one of her snowballs, rolling it in her hand as she shot Olaf a mischievous look. He reached a hand out and she gave him the snowball she held, picking up a fresh one.

"I don't know if it's even an actual shop. Nothing was priced, except for some dirty clothes which-HEY!" Anna shouted as a snowball clobbered her in the head, making her trip forward. She didn't go down, which was impressive in her royal green robes.

Elsa was susprised she was still in them, but she didn't stop. Her arm pulled back and another ball smacked Anna in the shoulder as she turned to look for the source of the attack. Olaf plucked off the arm with the snowball and held it in his other hand, swinging wildly to whip it at the two. Kristoff turned around just in time for it to hit him in the nose.

"Hey!" he shouted, wiping it off his face.

"Elsa!" Anna yelled, coming for the curtain. Elsa was half out of it with a smug look on her face. "Elsa I am coming for you and you won't like what happens!" Her face looked funny, as if she was trying to be angry and completely failing.

"Sounds serious!" Olaf said as he whipped another snowball at Anna's stomach.

"Olaf, you too?" she asked, picking up the pace.

"Yup!" he answered cheerfully.

Elsa giggled and threw another ball right at Anna's chest. "This is for earlier!" she said and then shrieked when Anna dove for her, hands out amd threatening. Elsa tried to escape but realized quickly that there was the wall, curtain, and Olaf and she had actually trapped herself.

Olaf darted away as soon as Elsa started to bump into him, another snowball armed and ready for Kristoff. It was too late for Elsa as Anna trapped her against the wall. Elsa tried to wiggle away but Anna had pressed herself against her giggling sister.

"You really think you could get away with this?" she asked, face close to Elsa's.

Elsa couldn't help herself, setting her hands on Anna's hips and then moving them around to her back. "I think yes. Yes I can," she told her as Anna's wet and mock-pissed face loomed closer. "I'm getting away with it right now," she told her, lips maybe an inch from Anna's.

In the background Elsa heard wild laughter and the sound of Kristoff getting hit with snow. Kristoff laughed too and Elsa could see out of the corner of her eye Kristoff chasing Olaf's rolling body parts down the hall.

"You're in your nightgown," Anna noted, hands on Elsa's waist.

"Mmm hmm. You know, if I really need to make this up to you, I can be in less than this..."

"I think you will be. Definitely," Anna said softly. Her lips closed the distance and she kissed Elsa ever so sweetly.

Elsa's eyes shut with contentment, kissing Anna back. She loved how she felt, loved her warmth. Then she noticed...they started so slowly, but she noticed...

A second later she was screaming with laughter as Anna's tickling fingers dug into her sides - and there was no escape.

#Elsanna Week #Elsanna #fanfic #Elsa #Anna #Olaf

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sage-nebula · 3 years

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Thanks for the explanation! I've been a JRPG fan since the 90s and the changes made to the Let's Go games don't sound as though they'd be my thing either. Do you have a review of Gen 8 anywhere on here? I'd be curious to see what you think of Sword and Shield.

I don’t think I ever did a formal review of Sword / Shield because I wasn’t writing up game reviews at the time, but I’d be happy to give an impromptu one here!

Overall Score: 8.5/10

The Pros:

— Gameplay was a vast improvement from the previous gen. Dynamaxing is a much more fun battle mechanic than a one-time-per-battle use Z-Move; the Wild Area is FANTASTIC, especially with the wild pokémon roaming around; the bike came back without annoying music to accompany it; the post-game Battle Tower provided actual challenge, and so on. I actually had fun playing these games, particularly with so much space to explore and things to find. I’m not someone who says that story is never important in games—I’m far from that person, actually—but gameplay will always be the most important component of a video game because it’s how the audience engages with it. The Alola games were not fun for me to play; the Galar games were, and that was automatically such a relief after a gen that felt like a chore to get through.

— The characters are all fantastic! Aside from postgame characters Shieldbert and Swordward, I didn’t dislike a single character in the games. The rivals were great, the Gym Leaders were memorable and involved for the first time since Gen V, and Sonia has one of my favorite arcs of any Pokémon character ever given how relatable her story was. (Having one of the main characters be someone in her twenties trying to figure out what she’s going to do with her life is almost like Game Freak was trying to speak to the young adult audience who grew up with these games, tbh.) I didn’t like the characters in the Kalos games aside from one, and the Alola games were a massive disappointment, but Galar really came through and shone with all of its characters. The fact that they’ve only managed to get even more spotlight and depth in things like the League Card bios and the post-game Galarian Stars Tournament only makes things even better.

— The music was excellent. While there were a few tracks that weren’t especially memorable (such as the standard trainer battle music), there were many more that were absolute bangers (the Gym Leader battle music, the Battle Tower music composed by Toby Fox himself, Marnie’s Battle Theme, etc). I especially love the music for the northern part of the wild area, with how the bagpipes come into full crescendo. Absolutely spectacular.

— There was so much to explore! One of my primary complaints with the Alola games is that they were so small; only four tiny islands, without being able to explore the sea. Galar made up for that, though, with more towns, a huge wild area, and to cap it all off, extra locations added with DLC that allowed you to fully explore the ocean and many other areas. There were so many little hidden things around and I LOVED discovering everything, ignoring the plot while I did so. That was my jam.

— Speaking of the DLC, I cannot speak highly enough about Game Freak’s decision to release DLC with new areas / content rather than just releasing a slightly modified third version with different postgame (coughUSUMcough). Yes, the DLC still cost money, but it was half the price that a third game would have been, and honestly the DLC stories adding to the postgame (though you can do them at any time and the levels scale) added to the richness, depth, and overall playtime that the Galar games offered. I really, really can’t express how much I hope that this is the business model Game Freak takes with future releases. Please give us new stories via DLC rather than making us shell out for a slightly modified third version.

— Honestly, this is an unpopular opinion, but I really liked the way the story was handled. I LOVED the model for the Gym Challenge being a regional tournament that you have to be sponsored to enter, how the “gyms” were stadiums full of people, how it’s something that really affected the region and encompassed everything you did, story-wise. I loved, too, how the adults in the game ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING FOR ONCE instead of wanting to rely on literal children to solve their problems for them. Sure, it means we missed some instances of disaster, but honestly, I’ve been cleaning up the PokéWorld’s messes since 1998. I’m tired. I want to just have fun gallivanting off into the wilderness in-between doing a fun Gym Challenge. That’s all I want. So while some didn’t like the fact that the story wasn’t super deep, I liked it, especially since if the Kalos and Alola games taught us everything, it’s that Game Freak fails spectacularly at handling tough topics, to the point I’d really rather they not try at all.

The Cons:

— I’m still disappointed about the Dex cut. I’ve accepted it at this point, we won’t get the full Dex back unless Game Freak somehow gets more time to develop the games, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t find it disappointing. I think all pokémon should be included in the games at least once the main campaign is over, and it’s disappointing that they aren’t.

— I don’t know if it’s a fault of the game or thanks to my internet connection, but I experience severe lag when wifi is turned on in the wild area, which is again disappointing since it was promoted how you could interact freely with other players this way.

— I MISS MEGA EVOLUTION. My Charizard was bred and trained specifically to mega evolve into X. I really hope we get Mega Evolution back at some point because I’m angry that it’s gone.

— While I was glad to see following pokémon back in the DLC, it really wasn’t implemented well. They can’t keep pace properly at all. Again, I wonder if this is tied to the time constraints that went into development, and if it is, I hope they can smooth it out in the future.

— I was kind of disappointed in the way Rose ended up being depicted as the game’s Big Bad, because of the role they gave him in the game. In the game, he’s the CEO of a mega corporation that controls all energy throughout the Galar region. Given that we currently live in a world where CEOs of mega corporations who control everything are actively destroying the planet and don’t care that they’re doing it, it fell a bit flat for me for the games to be like, “no, it’s fine he controls everything that everyone’s lives depend on, the real problem is he summoned a legendary pokémon he couldn’t control.” Like, my dislike of Rose is far less about what he does versus what he is, and I feel like Game Freak chickened out of criticizing what actually needed to be criticized.

But yeah, that’s all I’ve got! I really enjoyed Sword and Shield; they gave me some hope for the direction the games might be taking in the future.

#pokemon #pokemon swsh #Anonymous

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jodellejournals · 4 years

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little mermaid days

an hour away from my hometown city, a municipality called san joaquin peacefully exists and humbly thrives. it is located at the southern tip of iloilo and it was way back 2005 when we spontaneously walked on its shores until we found an empty lot. it was love at first sight at the scenery that struck us so my tita bought that piece of land. a year later, it became our family beach house. long weekends, summer breaks, birthdays, and anniversaries started to be spent and celebrated there and so it became a home away from the city where i lived my little mermaid dreams. as some of you know, i have always been fascinated by mermaids and their happy-go-lucky life — just swimming, brushing their hair with forks, being friends with crabs and almost all sea creatures, and away from the harsh and cruel human world. i’m such an escapist, i know, but that’s who i am. i have mentioned in one of my previous entries that my favorite disney princess is ariel from the little mermaid so living in a beach house during weekends made me feel like one. thankfully, no ursula was there but only eels. and sometimes, they come for free. a family friend of ours who does business in the area gives us free seafood and we all know it tastes better when it’s free! but i don’t eat eels! they’re not my thing. i only enjoy fresh fishes and prawns. they’re good although i am allergic to the latter one. i am scared of how oysters look like, on the other hand, so i just pass them around. that’s too much food already so let me share to you instead how life was like in the sea side.

usually, we’d leave our ancestral house in the city by 8am although we have originally planned to depart at 7am. filipino time, you know. if there will be plenty of us (cousins from first to third degrees, extended aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews who were tagged along, and some househelp), we’d go in three batches. if we’re a small bunch, one or two batches would be enough. i always pick the car where cousins my age were at and i’d be lounging in the backseat with my pillow, a bag of cheetos or chippy, bottled water, and earphones. life is good. and i’m all set for a cozy hour of car ride. bye-bye, city! whilst on the road, i’d always (and i mean always), look in the window as if i’m in a summer adventure movie like aquamarine. the usual sights were centuries-old churches, spanish colonnial houses, pastry shops, local malls and resorts. all of which were very familiar to me since i grew up passing by them but they still seemed anew each time i laid my eyes. i marveled at my city. it is such beauty. there is really no place like home. then thirty to forty minutes later, my eyes were greeted by palm trees, zigzag roads, little nipa restaurants, and just a bit further, the glittering sea under the piercing rays of sun came into our perfect view. san joaquin, being a southern municipality, is abundant in natural resources. so the closer you get there, the closer you are to mother nature. it’s like a secret hiding place for me — almost like narnia — where i can unwind with birds, fishes, cows, and dogs to name a few. some cows were literally on the road so we make sure that we don’t go way too fast even if there’s no traffic. cows have their agendas, too, so let’s not get in their way. then if we’d get a bit hungry because breakfast was usually prepared upon arriving at the beach house, we’d stop over at a famous bakery shop called nang palang’s pies. a trip to san joaquin is usually never completed without buying boxes of their signature buko pie. delicious, warm, and well-suited for the tropical weather. i’d take half-bites so as to not be full when real breakfast arrives. then after attempts of dozing into a nap and avoiding cows and their agendas, we’d finally arrive at our vacation home.

upon opening the car door, the crashing sound of the waves welcomed us warmly and the buzzing of the crickets, too! i can already feel my tan slowly coming out of my skin. i don’t know why but beaches make everything seem glisten and glitter. the air smelled of fresh leaves and trees mixed with saltiness from the sea. i love that earth smell! by that time, i’d instinctively hear the sea calling my name. it’s shining there few steps away from me, after all. no worries mr. sea, me and my cousins were already in our swimsuits. we were that excited and ready. we have learned from previous visits to be always prepared with the right attire because the sea calling exempts nobody. and the bangka at the shore (that is usually a property of our caretaker) only tempted us more to go for a sunny boat ride. the adults could no longer do anything if we jumped in and rowed that boat! forget the sunscreen, the little children in us back then used to not care much about our skin. playtime was more important and twice the fun at the beach. so one time, my mother called us for breakfast but we were already dipped in the not-so-deep blue sea and basked under the yellow san joaquin sun. too late, chocolate!

but if she triumphed in stopping us, me and my cousins would have an afternoon swim instead. by 3:30pm, usually refreshed from our nap, we were in the perfect mood to be little mermaids. folding chairs in happy colors perched at the shore and tall beach umbrellas stood firmly. now we have sandy toes that made us forget our childish woes. we’d create sand castles or write our names in the sand using sticks. it would stay there for the sky to look upon until a giant wave would wash them all away. gone was any trace of our masterpiece but that’s okay, we always love the sea. then some children at our age would pass by us. they hold with them crystal bottles that looked like one of those that ursula had with potion, weirdly-shaped but pretty-colored stones, kites, and biscuits or chips. i guess it’s their playtime, too. no, they’re not lost wandering anywhere the wind takes them but local residents just roaming around their village. yes, our beach house was at the sea side where many houses of the locals stood firm. when we talked to those children about the place, they knew every twist and turn, how long it would take to get to the next island or village, or how much the goods there cost. these children, small they may be, but mighty is their knowledge. i could not even commute properly until now without asking for some guides and directions! but them, they are like dora’s map that memorized each corner by heart. how wonderful are the lives of these people? living by the sea, breathing fresh air, and swimming in the waters anytime they want. they do fishing for a living and it’s not even a nine-to-six job. clearly, there is work-life balance. the best things in life are indeed, free. so why do we even picture a life in the city? a simple life calls for a simple way of living. but jodelle, you know deep down inside, that each parent wants their children to live a life with the best things that this world has to offer. how? by getting a good education, earning money, investing on insurance, building your own place, exploring countries, and meeting new faces to name a few. that’s how it’s always been painted to us. but what if, once in a while, we just retreat to nature and immerse in a homemade and handmade kind of life? i’d gladly consider that option.

anyway, going back to my story, me and my cousins would start swimming by 4pm right after our encounter with the locals. for me, it’s the ideal swimming time because there was no more blazing heat but only breezing winds. and it would not also be long enough until it’s sunset o’clock! so one afternoon, i laid down by the shore wearing my navy blue swimsuit with yellow flowers on it and my back felt the soft sand and each time the waves kissed the shore. relaxing, soothing, calming. i can just stay here forever, i remember thinking. and while laying there, my only view was the clear sky. it was not blue that time but clear white with some fading yellows on the sides from the noon that has passed. how vast is this celestial body? does it ever end? the world is so big and i felt so small — but free as well. then a flock of chirping birds came into my view and i didn’t mind. i enjoyed them, in fact. they seemed so happy and at peace. isn’t it beautiful how bodies of water, vast skies, and living creatures just harmoniously coexist together? god really created everything perfectly. i stayed laying there a bit longer and saw the sky changed to a different shade in its own pace. just like us humans. another thought came across my mind but it was a bit silly. wild guess? i pretended the sand was snow and created a sand angel! it was not that bad upon checking the outcome. shortly, i called my cousin, dianne, and told her my blissful and happy experience. i can’t be selfish and enjoy the wonders of the shores all to myself, right? so she also laid beside me, created her own sand angel, and we looked up to the sky above, enjoying our moment of peace and quiet. we closed our eyes for a bit and meditated. just two pisces girls being spiritual. but not too long though, because strong waves took us back to our reality.

by that time, the sun was already setting and hues of oranges, pinks, and purples painted the sky. i’m not a swimmer so i just sat at a huge rock in the waters, pretended i had a tail, and parted my wet hair into half just like how mermaids do it. i’d look at the horizon, check ships from afar, observe small boats nearby, and when i look down on my toes, little nemos were there happily swimming. being in nature really makes me feel alive. then as we came out of the waters, the fishermen were also docking their bangkas and pulling their fishing nets. they had a bountiful catch which was enough to feed their family. that signaled me and my cousins that it was time to wash up in the bathroom for dinner will soon be served. expectedly, our viand would be grilled fish to be dipped in soy sauce, calamansi, and chilli peppers and we’d pair it with warm sticky rice. when we were full, we’d leave the ground floor for the adults to play mahjong and climb our way to the second floor to share stories. sometimes, we’d play cards or read books through our iphones. The television did not appeal much to us when we were there. and when midnight came, we’d munch on a bag of doritos for snacks and drink leftover red wine that was usually from our previous visit. all while the airconditioner was on full blast. i miss that kind of comfortable. a little bit later, we’d turn off some of the lights but it wasn’t completely dark. the moon that shone above was enough to give us light and it seeped through our room that was guarded by a sliding glass door. it overlooked the sea 24/7 and we never got tired of that view. when daylight came, there was no need for an alarm clock because the sound of the ocean waves that sweetly lulled us to sleep last night would gently wake us up in the morning sun, too. coming with the terms of nature and its cycles enabled me to be aware of what part of the day it already was. so that’s when i knew it’s time for brunch because the sun was way too high up in the sky. we’d then go on with the day just like how we spent yesterday until we were due to be back in the city.

oh, happy times. it was simpler back then. it used to even feel like days would always be like that forever but look at me now. i’m miles away from where i consider home and “living” a so-called adult life “the way it should be” — working at the office, paying insurance, constructing emails. all those stuff. when did life become like this? did i forget how to have a heart and eyes of a child? i hope not. but being in your twenties can easily get you in a trap especially if there is no time to take a pause and reflect. sometimes, it’s easier to be just a child — forgiving, carefree, light-hearted, full of wonder, and pure in every way. all would be well again after a good cry. but then i have always known that i can forever remain a kid at heart no matter how old i age. i just have to make sure that she’s within me safely guarded at all costs so the world would never harden her. i am glad she still remains soft when i look at her closely. she still has those eyes full of wonder with a carefree heart that carries happy childhood memories from her little mermaid days.

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ecntrc-a-blog · 5 years

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HOW I RUN MY BLOG

SPEED.

speed truly differs and is entirely mood dependent !! sometimes i’m really fast at replies , sometimes i take my time. sometimes i am just really feeling a certain plot , so i’m doing that thread more than im doing the others. uhh , sometimes i get really overwhelmed !! and i gotta disappear for a day or two !! it’s truly just all mood dependent. but my speed is never an indication on how i feel about roleplaying with a particular person ! so , if lets say i haven’t replied to something of ours in a week or something , don’t worry ! it’s nothing you did , it’s just me !

REPLIES / DRAFTS.

replies and drafts ... i suppose everything spoken up there kind of is relevant to the stuff down here , right ? as of right now i haven’t attempted to drop any replies or anything , but i also haven’t hit any double digits yet , you know ? and that’s just because my speed , at the moment , has been pretty solid ! but i have been known to kind of ... hoard drafts ?? after some time ?? which is not good because then i get overwhelmed and then i start dropping stuff. but for the most part , i think im okay ?? in this department ?? it’s only been like 2 weeks ( it feels like its been longer ! ) so we’ll see what happens !

STARTERS.

ahhh starter calls ... i keep posting them but lord knows they’re the bane of my existence ! i want to try holding back on those ? or at least like , dm-ing people first and seeing if they’ve had something in mind ! or like doing some small plotting but writing starters is hard !! and , unless something significant happened and im basing it off of that , i feel like i just ... don’t do any good ones kjsdkfnsd but i’ll probably break out some one liner kind of starter calls and try capping them at a number instead of leaving it as a free for all so i don’t end up losing juice !

INBOX.

memes !! i love ‘em !! i love getting them , i love using them as an ice breaker !! i think they’re just rad !! i don’t send them too often though , because i try to limit myself on how much i’m putting out there. which is funny because im always like ‘send me everything!! all of it!! fuck me up!!’ but then here i am , putting rules on myself. either way i love them !! i think they’re great !! and i even run a meme blog whaddup shameless self promotion follow @dovingmemes ( i havent updated in a long time though dskfjsdkjf )

SELECTIVITY.

well ... i’ve been roleplaying on this site since ... 2011?? 2010?? so like 15 --- 16 years old. i’m 23 now , so i’ve been here for a while ! i know of all the uglies , all the fuglies and all the outright zuglies so ! i’m a bit selective ! it’s so i can have a fun time ! more so recently , i’ve been a bit free on following people back , even people from fandoms i don’t know , but soon enough i’ll have to put some rein on myself because i don’t want to accidentally slip myself into some anxiety problems from seeing soooo many blogs and what not. or feeling incompetent and such. i am a big advocate for those who want to just follow people they like , that’s solid and that’s valid !

WISHLIST.

wishlist ... i guess my wish is just to have some fun with my character !! like , speaking about yuuga specifically , i want to help people expand their understandings of him and try to picture their muse’s interactions with him. whatever that reaction and interaction would be ! i’d love for him to have some kind of mentorship kind of story going on ?? like someone mentoring and helping him out. i’d also love to expand on his emotional side !! have him break down to someone , have him be able to explain his insecurities , his doubts , his scars to another person. like ... build that close relationship , you know? i want good things for him ... good things.

HONEST NOTE.

roleplaying is about having fun !! it’s about building characters and expanding on stories !! it’s about using your imagination in a way that’s reminiscent of playtime as a child but more adult because it’s writing and mature themes from time to time and we aren’t like , throwing around action figures or dolls. and like ... i just want this experience to be fun. i want to be able to enjoy myself at all times !! i know that’s a far stretch , i’m not gonna find enjoyment all the time , but i can get pretty damn close , right ? roleplaying is about communication , expanding both muses and just fantasizing about a place , a time , a situation , anything that allows us to dream of worlds and possibilities and keep just that spark of what makes the world a little magical. and well ... i hope people do that with each other. and do that with me !! i don’t want any problems , you know ? i just wanna have some fun !

tagged by: @ofiignition tagging: anyone who would like to do it !!

#✰ OOC POSTS

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pandoramsbox · 5 years

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Game for Gaming: Lost Sphear

Game: Lost Sphear (Tokyo RPG Factory and Square-Enix; Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Microsoft Windows; 2018)

System: Nintendo Switch

Why this game?

Were I to make a list of my all time favorite video games, Square Enix, or as it was previously know Square or Squaresoft, turn based, Japanese role playing games (JRPGs) from the SNES era would factor heavily; namely, “Final Fantasy VI” (or III, in its original US SNES release), “Chrono Trigger,” and “Secret of Mana.” Not surprisingly, when I saw a trailer for the 2017 Switch release of Tokyo RPG Factory and Square-Enix’s homage to this era of gaming, “I Am Setsuna”, I wanted to play it.

Nostalgia definitely clouds my comparison of “I Am Setsuna” to “Chrono Trigger,” the game it most closely resembles in terms of battle and equipment system. Beautiful graphics and music, interesting story and engaging gameplay make “I Am Setsuna” a fine turn based JRPG in the mold of the games that inspired it. "I Am Setsuna” is not one of my favorite games ever, but I enjoyed playing it, would play it again, and do recommend it. As soon as I finished it, or neared finishing it, I wondered if Tokyo RPG Factory was going to come out with a follow up, and as fate would have it they did, and it was about to come out: “Lost Sphear.”

When “Lost Sphear” was released in North American in January of last year though, I didn’t rush out to get it or play it. The reason was two fold: my (still relatively new at the time) job was extremely busy and gaming wise I was completely transfixed by “Fire Emblem Warriors.” “Why spend money on a game I wasn’t going to sit down and play?” I figured. Then come November, and a sale, it made sense to buy it so I had it when I was ready to play it... Then I promptly became obsessed with “Tetris Effect.”

Like many working adults, I have found that finding time to play story heavy games is hard. As a result, I am more apt to favor games that are more action, less talking.

So my first game in this series was a game that I had never given a fair play to, thus I decided to follow it up with a game I wanted to play, but had wound up forgotten in my backlog.

My playtime: approximately 5 hours:

With RPGs, or any games that were cut scene or tutorial heavy, I knew I would need to give the game at least 3 hours. I got into “Lost Sphear” to the point where I gave it closer to 5.

The game opens with a cut scene/plot battle in the ancient past, which turns out to be the reoccurring dream of the protagonist, Kanata. From there, in the grand tradition of most RPGs and fantasy stories, you round up the characters that will make up your starting adventuring party. Sword using Kanata is joined by pugilist Lumina and sniper Locke. The 3 teenage friends are orphans being raised by the village elder, and part of their chores includes defending the town from encroaching monsters and fishing.

After some expository dialogue, getting the sense of the town, and getting a combat tutorial, the party leaves the village on its first mini mission, to go catch a fish. However, when they return, they discover a white void has absorbed and erased their home, along with anyone who was there.

As they attempt to make sense of what happened, they are joined by a mysterious, Goth guy in a long coat whom goes by “Van,” and fights with beam shooting knives. Together they go find shelter for the night at a cabin in the mountains, and while they sleep Kanata has an info dump dream that breaks down the core plot of the game: to recapture what has been “lost” with the power of memories.

Thus the party has to go around and collect memories, which Kanata has the power to manifest into stones/compacted mass/crystals and use to recover the places, people and things that have been lost to the white void.

After saving the village and getting recruited by a representative from the empire to help combat this phenomenon, which is causing havoc throughout the world, Kanata and comrades discover additional nuances to his powers, including the ability to create new things that give boosts in combat.

I played far enough to discover that the game mechanics of collecting ingredients to make food, which also give combat boosts, and magic/special abilities being contingent upon equipping items called spritnite, were carried over from “I Am Setsuna.”

So “Lost Sphear” had a limited learning curve for me, and I was able to spend more time enjoying than mastering new game mechanics. Even if I had not played “I Am Setsuna,” like most games of recent generation, the game is good about succinctly providing tutorials on game mechanics. However, at the point I stopped playing, before writing this post, I had only barely unlocked, thus barely begun to understand, the magical, steam punky vector suits, which are unique to this game.

Conclusions:

Obviously, I like “Lost Sphear,” and will be playing more of it, if I put in more time than what I deemed the minimum requirement to write a post on it. However, as engaged and pleased as I am with it, in the time I played it, I cannot see it overtaking “I Am Setsuna,” or the 1990s SquareSoft SNES games, in my esteem in terms of dialogue, and possibly characters, for me.

The dialogue is simplistic and repetitive. Even keeping in mind that the reading level should be written so as to be accessible to a wide audience, and the fact that it was translated to English from Japanese, the dialogue still comes across as weak relative to other JRPGs I’ve played, including “I Am Setsuna.” It is not simplistically bad in the fun way, like the famous “spoony bard” line from the first English translation of “Final Fantasy IV” (or II, in its original US SNES release). However, the game gives you the option of rewinding or fast forwarding dialogue, which is pretty useful and something that would have been really handy in the preceding games that inspired this one.

Still, slogging through the info dumps on what the game defines as memories and what they do is both tedious and simiotically draining.

In terms of the characters, they’re stock archetypes, and that’s not necessarily bad. Kanata is the pure hearted hero. Lumina is the, at times temperamental, big sister. Locke is the precocious kid who shoots his mouth off, and hates being called out on his inexperience and shortcomings. Van is the blunt expert with a secret. The personality dynamic in the group is good, actually. I am not overly attached to any of the characters though. In fact, I am mostly just offended that the character who is the source of the most repetitive dialogue, and is basically a bratty little kid, shares a name with the romantic thief, I mean “treasure hunter,” from “Final Fantasy VI.”

Really though, the use of archetypical characters in genre and pulp narratives is something I can readily forgive. Sometimes the narrative goes in ways that subvert the archetypes, and sometimes the characters get fleshed out enough to render them into a more unique personality. Only 5 hours of gameplay in, it’s hard to fully assess what may become of the characters in “Lost Sphear.”

In terms of more positive aspects of “Lost Sphear,” it did improve on “I Am Setsuna” in terms of game mechanics. Unlike its spiritual predecessor, inns are available to heal the party. This standard of JRPGs was absent from “I Am Setsuna” and it was extremely inconvenient. Money is no longer as hard or convoluted to come by in “Lost Sphear,” which likely goes hand in hand with inns being part of the game.

In combat, since the combatants move around the battlefield, it is possible to hit more than one party member or monster. In “I Am Setsuna” this mechanic was incidental and could be optimized for maximum impact with practice. In “Lost Sphear,” they introduce the mechanic early on, and let the player see what monsters are being targeted.

This multiple target mechanic warms my tactical and strategy loving heart! And kudos for the listing the button functions at the bottom of the screen; you can either ignore them, or refer to them if you need a refresher.

While the active combat style requires full attention while playing (as it should), I found exploring the different locations and world map peaceful and relaxing. The color palate is warm and the score perfectly accents the scenes. I genuinely like this gaming environment.

For fans of SquareSoft JRPGs from the 1990s, Tokyo RPG Factory games will appeal to your genre sensibilities. It soothes and panders rather than challenges, but sometimes that is exactly the kind of media you want and need, and that’s okay. Frankly, I think it’s cool that the styles and aesthetics of these games can be retranslated with new technology to reach new audiences, while attracting longtime or lapsed fans. It’s something mainstream Hollywood cinema has done for decades, and enables more texts for genre and narrative studies. Plus, you know, it’s just fun.

#game for gaming #video games #videogames #lost sphear

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soundonreadings · 4 years

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Sound On InstaReadings Series Volume 4 with Jillian Christmas & Lauren Turner

Welcome to Sound on InstaReadings Series. Our second installment features readers Jillian Christmas & Lauren Turner and is hosted by David Ly and Cynara Geissler.

Posted here for your enjoyment are the bios of our fine readers and the text of their readings. Thanks!

Jillian Christmas is a queer, afro-caribbean writer living on the unceded territories of the Squamish, Tsleil-Waututh and Musqueam people (Vancouver, BC.) where she served for six years as Artistic Director of Versəs Festival of Words. She has won numerous Grand Poetry-Slam Championship titles and represented Toronto and Vancouver at 11 national poetry festivals, notably breaking ground as the first Canadian to perform on the final stage of the Women of the World Poetry Slam. Jillian's work has been published in a number of magazines and books, most recently Matrix New Queer Writing (issue 98), Plenitude Magazine, Room Magazine (39.1) and celebrated anthology, The Great Black North. Her debut poetry collection The Gospel of Breaking is available now from Arsenal Pulp Press.

Reading text:

(sugar plum)

mommy sat down on the porch to put her foot up. She has so much to tell me today, about the iguana and how it could make aunty run, about the good bush that washes away the bad spirits anyone might put on me. I must take some to charlotteville and bathe with it in the ocean. She tells me too many times about the fish I am already sure I do not want to eat. But I listen. mommy is ninety-nine and she has earned all of her indulgences. So she tells me again about the house she built, how no man helped her do it. When I ask about her mother, she tells me her maiden name was murray. I want to know more about her mother, my great- grandmother. I want to know what she looked like and how she smelled and what she did to stay alive. Was her hair long like mine, was her skin dark like /uncle/?

mommy doesn’t talk much about her mother. Says she liked her mother fine, but she loves her /daddy/. So I listen to her talk about my /great grandfather/ defratis. She tells me he was nice, and fair, with beautiful hair. Half guyanese and half portuguese. She tells me he had plenty money, was a rum dealer with lots of business, rum shops here and there. She tells me how he died at 30 years and how a woman who worked with him told her the story. Some jealous man put poison in his rum so he could steal up all of his business. She asks me if I understand. I do, but as always I have a tough time telling the difference between truth and myth.

Satisfied of my understanding she goes on. She tells me how she loved him. How she cried and threw herself down in the street , just a little girl of five, begging her /father/ not to go to work. She only met him this once, but she loved him her whole life.

When she rolled around and threw a fit to stop him leaving, he reached for his belt, began to unbuckle to lash her into better behaviour, but he stopped himself. Picked her up out of the road and carried her into the store. He told the young woman in there to cook some food and share with her and then he was gone.

mommy says that if her /daddy/ hadn’t died, she would’ve gone with him, travelled to portugal and all over. She says he would’ve left her some money and she wouldn’t have had to work so hard all of her life. Things would’ve been different. She would not have stayed in charlotteville, or married /my grandfather/, (she doesn’t say much about this but I think I already know he was a heavy handed man). I listen. Eventually, in a moment of gratitude, I say that if things had been different I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t exist. That’s what I’m telling you, she replies. My gratitude melts into a kind of passive sadness, she has already measured this option, has found it acceptable. I say, but what about your children? I would’ve had different children. She doesn’t say it with malice, but a tepid resignation. I repeat BUT I WOULDN’T EXIST!

No, you wouldn’t be my child. It’s a reasonable compromise for her, a whole life, house, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren still, gambled on trust for /a man/ only met once, gambled on the kindness of her being fed, instead of beaten.

I think about the longing I have suffered in my life. How I have stretched toward people who would not have stayed even if there were no venom.

The promise of possibility is a trap that has kept me from the joys of my own life.

And what joys am I missing, in clinging to a /daddy/ who is always missing, always walking toward poison and away from food? What love do I dishonour and ignore, in searching for a face I hardly know?

Let them go to their poison /great- grandfathers/ and /daddies/ too. Let them go and leave behind children crying as they will, mourning as we do. Let them go, and let us see what wild plants grow in their absence. What medicines will spring from a line of women with lost fathers and distant /daddies/? A line of maidens and witches who carry their own names and build their own houses, and birth their own bloodlines and cook their own food.

I Miss You Much

I miss you like dark and icy waters miss the warmth of sun’s sweet kisses or lust for the hard hand of wind’s fleeting embraces I miss you like a hungry storm wet and urgent carving torrents through rough and choppy places I miss you deep and aching long and heavy and though you may not heed this truth is by the time you read this I will miss you more already my room is hot the air hangs damp and heady and I miss you I am missing you in places where other lovers’ hands become unsteady at the mention of our skin where others’ sin is weak and thin and other fingers dare not dream to touch come back to me tonight my love I promise I am ready and I miss you much my love MY GOD I miss you much

Lauren Turner is a disabled poet and essayist, who wrote the chapbook, We’re Not Going to Do Better Next Time (knife | fork | book, 2018). Her work has appeared in Grain, Arc Magazine, Poetry is Dead, Cosmonauts Avenue, The Puritan, canthius and elsewhere. She won the 2018 Short Grain Contest and was a finalist for the 2017 3Macs carte blanche Prize. She lives in Tiohtiá:ke/Montréal on the unceded land of the Kanien’kehá:ka Nation.

Reading Text:

excerpt from Stop Bringing Me Here

I want to take the violence out of my life and replace it with a swan pond.

There’s a reading at my alma mater. By attending, I open the nostalgic dam without meaning to, gingerly stepping back into your kitchen.

You have me against the counter, nothing perverse yet – I wanted this.

Onstage, a poet is reciting poems filled with light, weather, and nature.

I hear her animals and I think: How advantageous this woman’s life must be that she can inhabit the pastoral in her poetry.

Do I err as a poet or as a woman? I wasn’t taught to respect either one.

The university reading folds open to a student bar. Presiding over the visiting writers, my former mentor won’t look at me, hasn’t since finding out I’d been involved with you. Gulping my cider like oxygen, I try to visualize sunfish winnowing water into ripples to keep back tears. I want to say: The movements of power aren’t difficult to follow. You weren’t, after all, a rodent tunnelling snow but the cat that pounced in its nest.

Dear [former mentor], Confiding in you felt hazard-filled. I was terrified of blame, the assumption that I tried to capitalize on the power of an older, established man – your friend. Where could he get me?

I never wanted to be gotten anywhere, only to bring myself to the place where he wouldn’t act embarrassed of me. I thought this place existed. If only my appeal wasn’t bound up in the shame he knew to foster.

I trusted you, [former mentor], but you prefer to trust power.

It’s lazy to accuse young women of fucking to the top. Harder to ask why they heard a child’s loon call as love, leapt toward it.

Wait, that metaphor is weak. Turn the child adult, their playtime sinister.

Several men came whistling into my lakeside summer. I swam with them, and that season is no one’s voyeuristic wet dream, except mine.

You upended my life, for a time. I won’t call every fault line pain or pretend we never shared moments that sweetened our brine, making the cuts itch a little less.

Often, those memories carry more pain than your cruelty, that you added value to my life in equal measures to what you took away.

Three years left before I could write that. I’m not sure it’s true.

Moving on didn’t dissuade a part of me from staying entrenched in this. I imagine that’s the part you take issue with. I wonder if you, like my mentor, have recalibrated my culpability to account for your fall.

I didn’t intend to topple you from the pedestal. On TV, a statue in shackles bends like it was never worth admiring and I couldn’t want that for you.

Maybe it was my fault, I tell a friend, trying to hush the sadness that gnaws like the slow hunger of being disbelieved. I should’ve turned him down. Why was I flattered by his interest? Did I believe he was capable of genuine care? How could our relationship grow into anything except a power struggle?

These questions eat beyond their satiation point.

So what, replies society. We’ve all been young and most of us aren’t crying foul about our less savoury trysts. You consented to fucking him and he took it to mean fucking you over. You should’ve been clearer.

I don’t know what I want from this poem. I want to write poems where I’m not dripping across the linoleum with my cunt in your mouth.

It’s a clean request: a plea for poems where birds could take up nest. I needed to talk to you without talking to you, but every line I try goes dead. Let’s take my quiet in handfuls, like a drunken night with too much winter

clothing and it’s always June somewhere.

Fine, have it your way: I never craved his love, only to swallow his prestige with my body, lapping up the Goldschläger cum that clung to the fine mink of his crotch. I was mature in early life and tucked my naïveté up my too-long sleeves. Isn’t that how girls grow up? By pretending we can handle the depths, flaunting our sodden selves like we chose to dive in, rather than hit water from a shove. Swimming is a reflexive motion in ducks. Also in girls.

No matter how softly I cauterize this life, someone asks, But what happened in his kitchen?

It’s my fault. I thought I could enter a man’s home without catching a sliver of his expectation. No, tell me exactly with your bons mots. Spell it out. And what if I can’t, what then? He was nothing I didn’t say yes to.

The men are getting restless, I imagine addressing a lecture hall as I would a horse stable. As if men are no different than beasts broken over centuries, proudly trotted into poetry without fearing their hooves in my stanzas’s soft meat. When they realized I wouldn’t keep quiet, they waited around for me to slip up and write the words they could bridle me with. ::

I am terrified I built my poetry on the backs of violent men. I am terrified. I built my poetry on the backs of violent men.

I am built on the back of violence.

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