#one minute it's clear and sunny and we walk into the restaurant

[fancassticfiction]

Okay, so having a panic attack because I was caught at a Mexican restaurant in a storm that led to a fucking tornado warning and 80 mph winds with my teacher besties on a teachers only day was not the vibe.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Marble World and Candy Resist (Sagrada Reset 4) - Chapter 2

[INDEX]

(The moment the maple syrup spills from this tiny white porcelain pot into my hot pancakes decorated with whipped cream is the climax of it. The part where I pass my fork and knife through the pancakes and bring them to my mouth is more like an epilogue.)

Asai Kei, Haruki Misora, and the girl in the marble were in the terrace seat of a café a 5-minute walk away from Ashiharabashi High. It was a modest white table by the street, with just a dark green parasol above and chairs below. Kei felt like going indoors would be a waste of this pleasantly warm sunny day.

The girl stared at Kei from inside the marble placed at the center of the table. Kei, in front of a plate of American pancakes soaked in maple syrup with a fork and knife in hands, talked to the marble.

"Sorry that we can't offer you any."

The girl in the marble nervously nodded.

"Oh, it's ok. Don't mind me. I got this."

She produced a candy on a stick from a pocket of her uniform.

"A Chupa Chups lollipop. Strawberry flavor.", she said in a forcedly encouraging tone before removing the wrapper.

"Are you a fan of Chupa Chups?"

"Yeah, I... liked... sweets for the longest time."

The marble's interior projected the upside-down image of the girl enjoying the strawberry Chupa Chups in her mouth. Kei felt a sense of wonder in what he was seeing. A fantasy that fits inside the palm of his hand.

Back to his meal, Kei cut off a piece of the pancake with his knife. On the other side of the table, Haruki winded the strings of meat sauce spaghetti on her fork. The girl in the marble stared at Kei while licking her lollipop. Being watched made it awkward to move his fork.

"Is there anything wrong?"

The question made her shoulders tremble. Then she timidly started talking.

"Is it really acceptable... for a high schooler to... enter a café instead of going home?"

"Good question. I can't imagine the school regulations approving of it."

"You think so too?"

"But that shouldn't be a problem now since this is technically Service Club activity."

"Huh? Is that how it works?"

"It is. Haruki and I were also in the Service Club in middle school, so we're pretty clear on how these details of the rules go."

When working in a Service Club, most things get processed as a club activity. No one would scold them for entering restaurants and, with receipts, they can even get the fees expensed.

"Ok."

She sighed with relief.

Kei also got his share of relief and brought his pancake to his mouth. While chewing, he put down his cutlery and turned his eyes to the pile of paper Tsushima dropped on him.

It was a printed file with data presumably from the Bureau. It contained a brief profile of the girl stuck in the marble and a pretty detailed description of her ability.

Sera Sawako, age 15. First-year student at Ashiharabashi High starting today. But absent from the entrance ceremony.

"How did she enter the marble?", said Haruki after wiping the meat sauce from her face with a napkin.

"Because that's what her ability does."

Sera Sawako used her ability two times in the past. Roughly once every two years. The file compiled all the information discovered in these two instances.

Kei read the text out loud.

Sera has the ability to enter the landscapes reflected in mirrors and glass shards. It'd be more accurate to say she's in the image reflected in the marble than inside the marble proper. But when this happens, only Sera's mind enters the mirror world, and her body is left asleep. Her spiritless body collapsed in front of the school gate and was carried to the infirmary.

"Does everything check out?", Kei asked.

The upside-down image of Sera inside the marble nodded, with the white stick of her lollipop still protruding out of her mouth.

"Yes, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"This feels so out there to me."

"I see."

Tsushima's file also contained what he suspected to be the cause.

Sera Sawako cannot actively use her ability. She can't voluntarily trigger it, nor can she switch it off. Since the entire process is subconscious, the user struggles to accept that she used her ability.

"Should I Reset?", Haruki asked.

Her ability was called Reset. It was an extremely powerful ability that replicated a moment of the past—in plain terms, simulating a time rewind.

But her ability had a few restrictions.

For example, Haruki can't Reset unless she has a Save. A Reset leaves her unable to Save again for 24 hours. A Save loses effect after 72 hours, etc.

But the biggest issue is that Resetting also rewinds the user—Haruki's own memories—to a past state. She can't remember that she used her ability. Without pre-Reset memories, her ability is worthless. Rewinding time doesn't matter if you're just repeating the same actions.

Kei's ability is necessary to solve this problem. Kei's ability is to accurately remember the past. Absolute retention of memory. Kei is the only one who can remember pre-Reset events after a Reset.

"We did get an order to Reset. I'll ask you to do it soon enough.", Kei answered, spreading a forkful of whipped cream on his pancake.

Tsushima, or rather, the Bureau instructed them to Reset, return to the past, and warn Sera of the problem before it happened. Following their instructions to the letter would be easy. They could have finished the task before going for pancakes.

"But seems like there's still more that we can do."

"What would that be?"

"First off, talk to Sera."

Sera in the marble looked at Kei.

"To me?"

"Yes, there's something I want you to tell us."

Sakurada's abilities don't activate unless the user wishes for it. It's positive that Sera Sawako wanted to use her ability at some point. She wanted to enter the marble, even if unconsciously. That was something he wanted clarified before Resetting.

"Why did you use your ability?", Kei asked the marble on the table.

The upside-down Sera Sawako lowered her gaze to the sky.

"Sorry. I don't know. When it hit me, I was already like this."

(The ability's trigger subconscious. I already knew that.)

"Could you remember everything that happened, in order?"

"Starting from when?"

"Let's see. How about from waking up today?"

She grabbed the white stick and pulled the Chupa Chups out of her mouth.

"Hm, uh. If I recall right, I woke up around... 5:30?"

"That's pretty early."

That surprised him.

"I've always been like this. I'm the kind who wakes up early for school trips or sports days and gets too sleep-deprived to properly enjoy the big event."

"And today it was because of the entrance ceremony?"

"Yes, maybe."

"Then what did you do after waking up at 5:30?"

"The usual. Getting dressed, eating breakfast—Oh, should I say what I had?"

"I don't see why not."

Kei's questions cycled through all of Sera's morning actions.

She left home with ample time to make it to the entrance exam, picked up a marble at the bus stop, and missed the bus while the little glass ball had her attention.

"So were you late for the entrance ceremony?", Kei asked.

Sera put the Chupa Chups back in her slightly tilted head.

"Yeah, that's where missing the bus led me. I could still make it if I took the next bus. But this got me thinking that I didn't mind."

"You mean you didn't mind being late to the ceremony?"

Sera nodded.

"I thought neglecting it wouldn't hurt. All they say there are things we've already heard enough times before, no? Someone who knows better would be out shopping instead."

(It's true that no one ever says anything interesting at an entrance ceremony. And all the teachers do after that is hand out the timetables and the student IDs. Picking those up tomorrow is not really a problem.)

"But you still came to the school gate after all."

"Yeah, that was pretty half-hearted of me. I genuinely wanted to ditch it, but I took middle school quite seriously, so I'm not exactly used to skipping classes for no reason."

She was muttering more than she was before. Could be because of the candy in her mouth, but Kei assumed another reason.

"Then I peered into the marble in front of the gate just for the sake of it and ended up how I am now.", she continued, slightly more quick-tongued.

"Are you a fan of marbles?"

"Huh?", Sera voiced her confusion before agreeing. "I quite like them."

"What exactly do you like about them."

"Hm, I guess their inaccuracy."

"Inaccuracy?"

"I mean, look, everything you see through them is so bent and inverted. It feels like they're mocking the real world."

"They really aren't."

"I like that image they pass, though.", said the girl looking down to the sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After finishing his pancakes and asking Sera every necessary question, Kei thought about leaving the café, until his phone rang.

It was from a number he'd never seen before. But he had a good guess for who it belonged to. He stood from his seat, turned away from Haruki and Sera, and pressed the green button.

Putting the phone to his ear, he heard a voice.

"Why haven't you Reset yet?"

It was Tsushima's voice.

"Haruki saved on noon two days ago. We have until tomorrow's noon to Reset."

Resetting "rewinds" the world to when it was Saved. Resetting immediately or the next noon wouldn't change what moment would be recreated. In that case, it was better to gather as much information as possible pre-Reset.

"Your job is to relay the situation to my past self. I'm not demanding anything above.", Tsushima berated.

"Yes, I know."

"Are you defying the Bureau's decision?"

His voice was vaguely condemning. Presumably on purpose.

"Not in the slightest."

"Then why aren't you Resetting immediately."

"I want to understand Sera first. I want to understand her problems and learn why she used her ability."

"What for?"

"To come up with a solution that works for her."

Sakurada's abilities were infinitely varied and incoherent. No ability was impossible. And with almost half the town population having one, they were extensive in quantity too. Competent as the Bureau might be, it was inconceivable that it could perfectly manage all of them. For that reason, the Bureau tended to cut a few corners. They simplify problems, fit them into cookie-cutter patterns, and handle them by following an inflexible handbook.

In simpler terms, the Bureau ignores the needs of the individual. The only goal is to solve the ability-induced problem, and the satisfaction of those involved isn't taken into account.

For the current case, the Bureau is not taking issue with the girl trapped inside a marble by her own ability. The biggest concern was that Sera used her ability on the occasion of the entrance ceremony and the first witnesses were parents of students. In short, the Bureau is displeased at how the ability-related issue is too conspicuous.

That was why Tsushima sped up their admission to the Service Club and said what he did.

ー You are the people for the task.

The Bureau sought the ability to remove problems before they occurred—the Reset.

He heard Tsushima's voice from the phone.

"Do you disagree with the Bureau's methods?"

Kei didn't hesitate in his answer.

"No, I think that's the right thing to do."

He really meant it. The Bureau was correct. He believed they were an effective organization that reliably achieved anything within their reach.

"Then why haven't you Reset yet?", Tsushima asked one more time.

"Holding myself to higher standards, for the lack of a better term."

Resetting would recreate the world before Sera entered the marble. If they retrieved the marble before she picked it up, she wouldn't be stuck in it. That's a solution. But it only removes the tangible part of the problem.

There is necessarily a reason for Sera Sawaka to have used her ability, even if not a conscious one. Her reason for wanting to lock herself inside the marble is somewhere to be found. The essence of the problem was outside the Bureau's viewpoint.

Kei only wanted to Reset if it was to solve both. The tangible problem and Sera's mental problem. Not for anyone else's sake, only for his own satisfaction. If possible, that's what he wanted.

Tsushima was silent for a while.

(He's either sighing or holding back laughter away from the phone. He understands perfectly well how ridiculous this conversation is.)

"I'm following your intentions to the letter.", Kei blurted out after losing his patience to continue this back-and-forth.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your actions don't make sense from the perspective of someone who wants to follow the Bureau's policies to make us Reset immediately. There was no need to introduce us to Sera or hand us detailed intel on her ability."

If Resetting and leaving the rest to the Bureau truly sufficed, Tsuhima's actions were sub-optimal. He should have explained only the bare minimum and called for the Reset in that room, with no need to hand over the documents or put them to talk to Sera.

"It's evident to me that you don't want us to follow the Bureau's approach."

Tsushima laughed over the phone.

His answer wasn't yes or no.

"You're going to Reset when you feel good enough about it, right?"

"I will."

"Fine by me. Bye."

"Wait, please. I have a favor to ask.", Kei called him back before he hung up.

"What is it?"

"Can you give me phone numbers of Sera's middle school classmates?"

"How many?"

"As many as possible. But any number is fine."

"Come pick them up at the teacher's lounge."

He hung up without waiting for a reply.

With a light sigh, Kei put his phone back in his pocket.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After hanging up his phone, Tsushima Shintarou stared at the ceiling.

He was on the sofa of the Service Club room. It was the perfect room to be alone since its club members didn't use it much.

Still with his head thrown back on the sofa, he picked up one of the entry forms on the table.

Asai Kei.

(As I figured, nothing escapes his sight.)

Kei observed the situation from multiple angles.

He meant today's case as a test for the special boy. He thought he should measure how far he'd obey or disobey the Bureau. But very early on, he caught on to the intentions behind the requests. That invalidated the test.

Tsushima laughed.

(I shouldn't have expected anything else.)

Two years before, at age 14, Asai Kei had already put up a fight against the Bureau. He forced a perfect organization that only ever solved problems to regard someone as an enemy.

But competence alone doesn't matter. The Bureau has more than enough of that.

Was he able to pick up what the city's management system chose to drop?

That was something Tsushima needed to ascertain.

[jacktrammell]

Unelegant Universe

06/12/2024

Transportation Accessibility Analysis for Unelegant Universe

A Google search leading to an “I Love New York” type web site revealed that visiting restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen was one of the site’s most recommended attractions in New York City for people who are wheelchair users.  As part of my study of the role of transportation and innovative technology in facilitating access for people with disabilities, I conducted a wheelchair experiment to test that out.  I started at the Hampton Inn on 337 West 39th Street in the Garment District.  Level one transportation is the motorized chair, which had little problem leaving the hotel through the automatic door openers, although the second/outer door was a little quick on the close.

Once on the sidewalk, there were level two transportation options.  In New York City that could be cab, bus, personal auto, subway, private van service, etc.  For people not using wheelchairs there are biking, scooter, and rickshaw options that obviously weren’t a good choice; Uber and other private rides are not often accessible.  A personal auto is also not recommended in Manhattan for nearly anyone due to congestion and parking costs.  The subway does not serve Hell’s Kitchen from that direction (and many subway stations remain inaccessible to wheelchair users, so that would need scouted out in advance even if it were an option).  The cost for a private van was prohibitive compared to bus or cab fare, so ultimately the realistic choices were walking (i.e., moving by chair), cab, or bus.

The New York Times reported that the wait time for an accessible cab had been reduced from 34 minutes to 13 minutes, but my calls to cab services and talks to locals suggested that it still would be at least a 30-minute wait, and probably longer.  That left bus and just walking (chairing).  A quick look at the bus routes showed that there would be two quick changes of routes, and a couple of blocks jaunt to a bus stop.  It seemed since it was a sunny day that maybe a relaxing walk (chair ride) would just be the best option.  (Sidenote: MTA claims that 100% of their buses are accessible; of the 13 I saw on our journey all had accessibility equipment; there was no way to check that all were working…)  Since the restaurant area of Hell’s Kitchen was in theory less than ten blocks away, I decided to just go on my own.

I turned to the right and immediately encountered a construction enclosure over the sidewalk, but unlike others I would soon pass through, this one was wide enough that someone using a chair could pass by someone walking by in the opposite direction.  I reached the corner of 39th and Ninth Avenue and turned right.  So far, so good.  People, for some unnatural reason, seemed to want to steer clear of me, although personally I am starting to notice bad, uneven stretches of sidewalk that ultimately are a wear and tear on me, and on the chair, too.  I continued up Ninth past the bus garage and ultimately up to 42nd Street.  I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the charming stores or small cafes had an eight inch or so threshold to get into the door.

I crossed over Ninth, trying to ignore a couple of delivery bikes clearly violating traffic patterns, and headed toward 10th Avenue on 42nd Street.  For the first time, I encountered sidewalk construction coverings that only had room for my chair and not so much for another person to pass.  This caused some awkwardness for others but not so much for me as I know I am entitled to the right of way.  Turning right onto Tenth Avenue and entering Hell’s Kitchen proper, then heading NE I encounter my first missing curb cut.  Why here? I wondered.  But it wasn’t long before a city repair crew blocked another intersection which did have a curb cut; but one not available to me!

About 46th Street (I don’t want to be too specific and give away anyone’s real business) we reached the restaurant we had scoped out online in advance, and it turned out that they, too, had a significant threshold.  The woman at the entrance offered first to have us sit outside in a sidewalk seating area (which I definitely didn’t want to do), and then seemed to toy with the idea of her brother helping me and the chair in, but I could tell she knew she shouldn’t do that and I ultimately acquiesced to sitting outside.

The space was cramped.  The woman helpfully scooted one table to the side, but from my perspective that was ad hoc and kept someone else from sitting outside who might have wanted to.  None-the-less, the food was as good as advertised and it was a delightful meal.  The people there were genuinely kind, attentive, and fun to talk to.

Leaving the restaurant, we decided to cut back over on 46th Street to head back to the hotel, making essentially a big square pattern.  Within the first two blocks, a sidewalk was fully closed for a stretch and I had to backtrack and recross to the other side; there were also more stretches of buckled and rough sidewalk; there were more narrow construction sidewalk coverings; and there were people who sometimes put on the expression that I was the problem slowing them down.

By the time we returned to the hotel, I was thoroughly exhausted, physically and mentally.  To say that restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen are an ideal attraction for people with disabilities including wheelchair users seems a bit problematic…

###

Postscript.  I don’t normally use a wheelchair, but I conducted this experience on foot trying to imagine what it would actually be like.  Since transportation has been a major battleground over disability rights, and an incredible emerging technology over the last two-hundred years, transportation is one of the “innovation lens” through which I am trying gauge the impact of Artificial Intelligence on people with disabilities.  The moral of this short, mostly “true” story is: “Will the reality match the promise?” and “When has a new technology ever seriously changed people’s views about disability?”

My coming book on this is entitled: The Unelegant Universe, and I can be reached at j.k.trammell@msmary.edu if you have thoughts to share or would agree to be interviewed for the project.

[sparkletheworlduniverse-blog]

Random checks on restaurants in Hyderabad have raised concerns and awareness. Not much has been on news channels in regard to these inspections. Who knew a day like this would come in the city of Pearls where biryani is celebrated and so is every cuisine with love. What caught my eye was all the famous eateries being inspected without a notice. Trash being stacked, expired ingredients and unhygienic kitchen alarmed the public. Well, we can definitely have an alternative in the aspect of having tasty food to fulfil our taste buds. But have you thought if you would get a clear chit when inspected by God on a random sunny day? Is your soul hygienic? Is it clean enough to let you into His kingdom? Like every restaurant owner in the city, are we struggling at the last minute to do the right thing? God says in 1 John 1:7, “if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin”. A promise like this, is a pleasant notice. Allow yourself to look unto the Lord and depend on Him. It is easy to do what pleases your heart, or the people around. But Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding”.  Would you rather follow God’s will in your life or struggle with worldly choices? God wants us to follow a simple guideline to achieve eternal gift. Jesus says in John 3:5, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” And it is never too late to follow guidelines to have a peaceful, prayerful life.Random checks on restaurants in Hyderabad have raised concerns and awareness. Not much has been on news channels in regard to these inspections. Who knew a day like this would come in the city of Pearls where biryani is celebrated and so is every cuisine with love. What caught my eye was all the famous eateries being inspected without a notice. Trash being stacked, expired ingredients and unhygienic kitchen alarmed the public. Well, we can definitely have an alternative in the aspect of having tasty food to fulfil our taste buds. But have you thought if you would get a clear chit when inspected by God on a random sunny day? Is your soul hygienic? Is it clean enough to let you into His kingdom? Like every restaurant owner in the city, are we struggling at the last minute to do the right thing? God says in 1 John 1:7, “if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin”. A promise like this, is a pleasant notice. Allow yourself to look unto the Lord and depend on Him. It is easy to do what pleases your heart, or the people around. But Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding”.  Would you rather follow God’s will in your life or struggle with worldly choices? God wants us to follow a simple guideline to achieve eternal gift. Jesus says in John 3:5, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” And it is never too late to follow guidelines to have a peaceful, prayerful life.

[bike42]

Monday September 25, 2023

7:30am breakfast and we were ready for Route Rap at 8:15am. The morning was clear and mild and I wore my “skort” for the first time this trip. I expected mud, so still added my low gaiters over my hiking boots.

We hadn’t had time to explore the beautiful little village of Padstow, so it was nice to stroll through the sleepy village this morning. We’d only seen the view at low tide which exposed a very large sandbar out in front of the hotel. Perry said it’s called the Doom Bar and told us of a legend about a mermaid that cursed the village. A local man wanted to marry her and she shunned him, and he shot her. She said at high tide the large sand bars are immersed and had been the site of many stranded ships and wrecks.

There were lots of people, probably locals, out walking the trails with their dogs this morning. Lots of ups and downs, and gorgeous scenery - slightly different than yesterday, more beaches. The day was warm and sunny, but interestingly enough, the air was hazier than yesterday’s cooler, cloudy and windy day.

We passed a guy that we thought was walking with a border collie, but ten minutes later the border collie was with us up at a look out tower. Cale looked at the collar and saw his name was Orca. He called the number on the tag and his owner said she’s meet us at the next beach town.

Jeff and I were walking in the lead and Orca ran in front of us, leading the way. We’d encounter other people with dogs, most of them leashed, and we’d just say “he’s not our dog!” But it was fun to walk with him. As we neared the beach, Jeff took the left path and I went around to the right to check out this massive sink hole that Cale said had been a sea cave that caved in. Orca was a little stressed to have us separated and kept running back and forth between us, I think he was trying to herd us back together.

We got down to the beach and his owner came. He flopped down and she rubbed his belly. She said he’s a great dog but her runs off - no kidding! He walked six miles with us!

We walked another mile to a really large beach with great waves and some really good surfers. The beach was as alive as a summer day with surfers, swimmers, people picnicking and many dogs running about. This was the end of our journey. I had my Chacós in my backpack and it was a relief to take off my gaiters, shoes and socks and put my sandals on. I’ve still got numb toes since my 29029 event about 6 weeks ago.

We drove about 5 minutes to a local restaurant for a two-hour lunch. It was a popular restaurant, The Cornish Arms, by Rick Stein who has some kind of foodie fame, but I was unaware. The guides order shared starters: olives, bread, prawns, scallops and oysters; then we all had an entree and dessert. I had a Curried Hake and Rice dish which was fantastic and we split a Sticky Toffee for dessert - yummy. We’ll hardly need dinner, but we’ll find a way to eat again I know.

We climbing into the vans for a one hour drive to Colwith Farm Distillery. I had a great nap and was cold and groggy as I walked into the tour. They offered warm up cocktails made with their vodka and gin. Most of us had a Gin and Tonic, Jeff and a few others had Vodka. What’s unique about this operation is that they’re a family farm since 1905. Over the generations, they’d had a more diverse farm, but now they’re primarily potatoes! They sell potatoes to be made into chips (fries) and crisps (what we call chips), but they’ve recently started making vodka and gin from their potatoes, making them a “plow to bottle” operation. Most vodka and gin are made from grains, but these potato based alcohols were yummy. Their Brand Name “Aval Dor” is Cornish for “Apple of the Earth.” Love that!

We had a tour of their small distilling operation, and also heard about investments in equipment that is allowing them to produce more. Our guide was quite knowledgeable. They essentially take their vodka and run it through a smaller copper still after infusing it with juniper berries (and other proprietary herbs) to convert it to gin. I like gin, but the process of how it’s made had been a mystery to me. After the tour, we tasted about 10 different samples, their straight vodka and gin, and several flavored varieties. I bought a small bottle of their classic dry gin, and their vanilla infused vodka. Hopefully they’ll make it home in our hard sided suit case okay!

Another hour in the van and we arrived at Hotel Tresanton in St Mawes, our hotel for the next two nights. Quick showers, and we tried to have a lighter dinner in the hotel restaurant as we weren’t too hungry and we are very tired! A bit later start tomorrow, so sleeping in and some yoga are in my future!

[toursandjourneyworld]

Top 5 Things to Do in Sonamarg - Tour and journey

It was our Sonamarg day, a scintillating valley almost 90 kilometers from Srinagar. Altitude was around 9500 feet only above mean sea level, but due to its topographical proximity to the Three Kashmir Sisters (Mount Harmukh, Amarnath and Kolhoi), Sonamarg remains snow blanketed almost round the year, opened to public only for two months during April and May. Luckily we had been there in mid-May.

By road it takes around 5 hours from state capital Srinagar, via National Highway 1D. Road conditions are pretty good until Gund village; however it gets abruptly narrow after the last check post. Sonamarg, as the name suggests, means ‘Valley of Gold’. It got its name not because of any abundance of the glittering metal ore, but because of the golden gleam on snow by the rising sun. On a clear sunny day, when the rays fall on ice caps, they glitter like gold. Nevertheless, this span of higher Himalayas lacks wildlife, flora and fauna due to the frequent avalanches and heavy snowfalls. The three sisters of Kashmir seen at Sonamarg  lead to major glaciers like Thajiwas and Kolhoi.

Here are some of the top attractions which you must not miss during your trip to Sonamarg.

Thajiwas Glacier Trek: We parked the car at the roadside of basecamp area and took the pleasure of walking towards the snow on foot. One striking aspect of Sonamarg ’s mountains was the flat tops with gradual slopes. So high, yet no cliffs! One need to be an expert to climb up to the summits of Harmukh, Amarnath or Kolhoi, but amateur hikers with strong lungs may dare a trek up to the Thajiwas summit by foot or on horseback.

While casually hiking on the glacier, taking photo-breaks in between, we did not realize when we had lost our direction. Unknowingly, we had landed at a solitary corner, without realizing that we had actually reached the Thajiwas Glacier stage 0, aka the summit. Believe me, there were no lives around! Not even the army men.

On the glacial top, we were shocked to discover numerous skeletons here and there, scattered on the ground. The scene was so horrendous. You could see different skeletal parts of animals (hopefully, though all did not seem to be) – skull, leg bones, ribcages etc and no human beings around. Sweat droplets filled my forehead at that biting cold. Just imagine our dreadful condition!

Sledge Ride: Staying on the top for around 15 minutes, we decided to descend. Walking down, we passed by the Gaddi huts which I could remember seeing during our uphill trek. Within a few minutes, God knows, suddenly wherefrom three sledgewalas approached us for a snow ride. One of them told, if we agree, it would be their first income of the season. We did not take the risk of confronting them. They charged Rs. 300/- per person for an hour’s ride.

Who knew sledge riding was so difficult! You need so much of body balance to enjoy a fall-free ride. In fact, one must take a sledge ride to know what happens once you fall down. Finally, we reached the top in 60 minutes with muddy dresses and cold toes. Thankfully driver was not around, so I could change my dress inside the car.

Island Retreat Park: Near stage one of the Thajiwas Glacier, there was a small riverside restaurant named Island Retreat Park, claiming to serve hot and fresh foods like Kashmiri Wazwan, Kahwa, Kashmir special Fish fry, Mutton rogan josh etc. Unfortunately, during our time of visit hardly anything was available except tea, coffee, ice-cream and instant noodles. A nice wooden bridge connected the park with the mainland of Sonamarg valley. The foaming waters of Sindh Nalla flowing under the bridge offered a tantalizing sight.

Kheer Bhavan Temple: On our way back to Srinagar, there is a much revered Hindu temple called Kheer Bhavani Mandir. This is the sacred place where Swami Vivekananda could transform his Vedantin convictions into complete surrender to the Divine Mother. The antiquity of this ancient temple offers a very exciting story which connects to Hindu mythology. It is believed that way back during the Ramayana age, Ravana used to worship a rare form of Goddess Shakti named Maha Ragya Bhagwati (another name of Goddess Bhavani) who is considered as the embodiment of cosmic power and active energy. As mentioned in the epic, Ravana had established a small temple of Goddess Ragya at his golden capital in Lanka. Owing to his misbehaviour with Sita (who is also believed to be an incarnation of Goddess Ragya by a school of Kashmiri Pandits), the goddess ordered Rama to shift her from Lanka to this Kashmiri village named Tulmulla where Sita had spent couple of years during exile. Since then, Goddess Shakti is being worshipped at this ancient temple in the titular form of Devi Ragya. At present it is under the management of Dharmarth Trust of J&K.

Aman-ka-Phool (Flower of Peace): There is a huge Kund (holy pond) beside the temple which is surrounded by lofty Chinars and Mount Harmukh at the milieu – a personification of amity and tranquility. Just as we walked inside, the whole area was shining with white blooms of a very special tree, they say it’s called ‘Aman-ka-Phool’ (flower of peace) as this is the flower which is exchanged every day at the international border while greeting our friends from the neighbouring country.

It was almost five in the evening. After a tiring trip to Sonamarg, it was time for a dreamy escape to the world of snow under bed warmers. We reached our hotel by six and retired for the day.

[evedreamsof]

birthday boy // j. arana

entry #07

summary: justin has plans for his birthday

justin’s birthday was a big deal to eve. she knew he treated birthdays with joy, so she was glad they were on the same page…in a way. she just did not know what to get him.

they had gotten together march 15 and his birthday was just 6 days after. she did not think too much about what to give because a scenario in her head was that when she would answer justin, he would have been bored with her already. obviously that was not the case.

“i don’t know what to get you,” she finally admitted. she sat down beside him on the couch and hugged his waist. “i’ll get you anything you want tomorrow.”

he chuckled. “well i got us something.”

she looked up. “you got us something? you got something for us on your birthday?”

“that’s right.”

“my munchkin, that’s not how it works.”

“well, my penguin, that’s how i want to celebrate my birthday, so that’s what we’re going to do.” he smiled. “so tomorrow, we are going to have an early start.”

“yeah? like what time?”

“i’ll pick you up at eight.” then he paused. “and then i’ll bring you home by eleven.”

“that’s a really long day, but we haven’t asked my parents.”

“oh i already did, earlier when i arrived and you were still upstairs,” he said. “they said yes.”

“they did? i’m honestly surprised.”

“i may have…well, not exactly lied. depends on where the night takes us.”

eve’s eyes widened. “justin….”

“i’m not forcing anything,” he said immediately. “just…whatever happens, happens.”

“are you going to seduce me?” she asked, a smirk tugging on her lips.

“are you seduce-able?”

“very much so, actually.” she laughed.

the next day arrived and justin picked her up at exactly eight o’clock on the dot. it was a tuesday and there was nothing important for her to do nor did he have any practice.

“let’s go?” he brought up her hand and kissed the back of it. she nodded.

he brought them to a restaurant that just screamed “pancakes, waffles, and eggs”. “sunny side up” was the name of the restaurant, and she giggled at how corny it was.

after breakfast was the arcade. she, of course, lost in every game except the trivia challenges.

as they walked along the mall, there were people who noticed the basketball player and some even asked for photos with him.

“sorry about the people,” he said. he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “i’ll make it up to you.”

“you don’t have to,” she replied. “it’s not your fault your a basketball star.” she smiled.

he sighed.

they had late, light lunch at wendy’s. right after that was the bookstore where eve just went wild.

“it’s your birthday and you’re giving me gifts?”

“it’s how i want to spend my day,” he told her with a shrug. “come on, i’m the birthday boy.”

eve scoffed. “a very weird birthday boy.” this made him laugh.

once they left the bookstore, justin suddenly became tense. “well, that’s done.”

eve noticed after a few minutes when his responses were very curt. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, yeah. i’m fine.”

“you most obviously are not.”

“we have one more stop before dinner,” is all he said.

curious as to where it was, eve simply followed.

when they stopped in front of a condominium, eve could feel her heart racing. justin cleared his throat. “are you…um…this is the condo i got for myself, the one i told you about.”

“the one where you go to think.”

“yeah, and it’s going to be the first time i’ll be staying in it for the night and well…i…i just…well. well.”

eve bit her bottom lip. “it looks like a good place. it’s near greenbelt. right next to it, actually.”

“everything near greenbelt is a good place,” he said.

“that’s true,” eve said with a chuckle. “but it looks nice from here.”

“do you…wanna go in?”

she nodded.

justin took her hand and they entered. the staff greeted them with happy faces. one receptionist seemed too nice so eve tightened her grip on his hand. justin did not seem to notice why but he quickly kissed the top of her head.

the elevator ride was quiet. both watched the indicator go up higher and higher. they reached the 15th floor and he led her to room 1503.

as soon as they went in, eve gasped. “omg, this is such a cool place!”

“it isn’t much but it’s something,” he responded. he placed the bag of books on a nearby table and then closed and locked the door. “it’s got a great view of the sunset though.”

eve turned to him and smiled. “this is really nice, justin.”

he smiled back. he walked towards her, cupped her cheek with one hand and said “thank you” before leaning down to kiss her.

they stayed there for a while before he let go. “the sun’s almost setting, wanna watch?”

eve nodded and he led her to the balcony.

there were two seats and a small, glass table. eve sat down one on chair while justin went to get drinks. he returned just in time for the sun to start setting.

“cheers.” they raised their glasses and clink-ed it together before taking a sip.

they were quiet as they watched, fingers intertwined.

“happiest birthday, justin,” eve whispered once the sun had completely set.

justin smiled. “thank you.”

it was getting chilly so justin suggested they go back inside. once in, he set the bottle of wine on the living room coffee table before closing and locking the balcony door.

“so what did you have planned for dinner?” eve asked as she scanned the place.

“mary grace,” he replied.

she smiled. “that’s nice. but to be honest…i kinda don’t want to leave.” her heart rate went up. “i mean, if it’s okay with you. it’s your day, birthday boy.”

justin smiled. “i was hoping the same thing.”

eve let out a sigh of relief. “oh, okay, good.”

justin chuckled. “why?”

eve looked away. “i just want to be with you, just the two of us. i don’t want to…share you, with anyone else right now.”

justin took a few steps forward, stopping himself just a foot away from her. “i don’t want to share you with anyone else right now either. i just want you and me…just you and me right now.”

eve closed the remaining distance between them. she touched his cheek with her fingers. “i love you so much.”

“i love you, too.” then he bent down and kissed her.

“happy birthday.”

(to be continued…?)

[mollydsails]

November 5 - another sunny, 80 degree day in Charleston. I’ve been told that 80 degrees is not normal for this time of year. Lucky us! We FINALLY got to do laundry. Yesterday the 2 washers and dryers were busy all day. The laundry area opens at 8:00. We went at 8:20 this morning and one person got into the laundry about 2 minutes before we did. Dang! By 9:30 we were able to start our laundry. While the laundry was in the dryer we walked to the farmers market.

I was happy to be able to purchase green beans, lettuce, sweet potatoes and corn.

After lunch we took a walk around the city. I found the gate on Queen Street that provided the inspiration for the earrings I purchased at The City Marketplace yesterday.

Earrings

Gate that was the inspiration for the earrings.

I had to stand on a wall in order to clear the fence for this shot.

Another view of the same garden.

A wedding party waiting outside a church.

We went out to dinner with marina neighbors, Mike and Kristen. They own an IP 38. We walked about 1.5 miles to the Brew and Bakery. The restaurant is a brew pub that serves delicious pizza. The walk from the marina went through a couple of sketchy areas so we took a different route back. Between going to the farmers market, the walk around the City and the walk to Brew and Bakery, my walking distance beat yesterday’s 6.2 miles.

[aliwritesfic]

First Date (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie only downloaded Tinder after Santi basically forced him to one night, and he never expected to actually meet anyone on there.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, age gap, online dating, condom used

(I haven’t written creatively in almost 7 years so if this is a waste of time I apologise, also tagging @absurdthirst because i sent them an anon last night about being nervous to post this lmao)

Frankie looked at your photo again and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. He wasn’t used to this whole online dating thing, and he certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on it. Pope swore by it for one-night stands and fuck buddies, and practically forced him to download the app and create a profile while they were all at their favourite bar and Benny had gone home with some girl. He’d swiped right on only a few people and made even less matches. Any conversations he’d had on there fizzled out after a few hours after telling them he didn’t have Snapchat, or Facebook, or Twitter, or anything else like that.

Then he’d matched with you.

Your profile was simple – a couple selfies, a photo on a hike with a beautiful staffy, and a group shot on a night out. Your bio was short and sweet – criminal justice and community welfare student, intersectional feminist, nerd. Lover of cheesy one liners and bad jokes.

Frankie had swiped right almost immediately. The only thing that gave him pause was the age gap – twelve years between you. There were bigger gaps, of course, but he’d never dated anyone more than two years younger.

“You’re both grown adults,” Pope said looking over his shoulder, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

So, with that, Frankie swiped right and was instantly greeted with a match. His stomach jumped again as you sent the first message, a simple but effective ‘hey, what do teachers and ancient history have in common? They both Babylon!’

You both chatted for a few more days before Frankie decided enough was enough. He asked you out for dinner and drinks at a local sushi place that had recently opened. He felt ill as he waited for your reply, wondering if it was too soon. It was almost an hour later that you replied ‘YES! How’s fri at 8:30 sound?’

It was a date. His first in over a year. The boys had come over to help him get ready, feeling like he was in high school all over again.

Frankie stood outside the restaurant, wishing he hadn’t left his cap in the truck, or at least wishing he’d picked somewhere that didn’t seem like it had an unwritten dress code. But he’d wanted to impress, and the reviews of this place had been positive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and moved towards the hostess. “Table for two, under Morales.”

“Right this way sir,” the hostess smiled at him and led him towards a table near the back, and Christ you were already there.

You were even more beautiful in person, in a tight dark dress, heels and a denim jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You were reading the menu, a small frown on your face as you squinted at it. You didn’t even notice him approach until he was standing right next to you. When you looked up, your mouth transforming into a grin, his heart skipped a beat.

“Frankie?” You said, your name sounding like heaven on your lips. Frankie sat down opposite you, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“Hey,” he went to say your name and you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Please, everyone I like calls me Sunny,” you grinned at him and he knew exactly why.

“Well, Sunny,” Frankie felt himself grin back at you, “it’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” you admitted, “but a good nervous, like nervous excited. I was supposed to be making notes on one of my lectures today, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this date. It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I just stressed myself out about it all day.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Frankie laughed, relieved to know that the insanely beautiful woman in front of him was just as out of sorts as he was. He was beginning to feel more at ease with you already, something he hadn’t felt with someone new in a long while.

The waitress arrived then, beaming down at you as she asked if you were ready to order. Frankie ordered a plate of sashimi and a spicy crab roll, while you got a veggie roll, and you both ordered a shot of soju.

“Don’t like fish?”

You shrugged, “I’m allergic, not like deathly or anything but I get a rash and a really bad stomach ache. It sucked when I was travelling through Asia a few years ago.”

Frankie frowned, instantly regretting even suggesting the restaurant in the first place. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he suggested, ready to do anything he could to make this a perfect first date.

“Oh god, no!” You smiled and Frankie’s stomach jumped. “I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now, so when you suggested it, of course I was gonna say yes.”

Frankie felt a little relieved at that, and you two talked for a while, waiting for your meals. He found out your dog was called Lola, you loved old music, and you were a disability support worker before your close cousin went to prison and you decided to enrol in university to study criminal justice. You found out he was a pilot, ex-military and he loved classic lit.

You continued to talk through your meal and several more drinks. He was beginning to deeply enjoy the sound of your voice, your laugh. You made him feel like you two were the only people in the room, everyone else was insignificant.

Eventually though, you both felt it was time to give up your table to someone actually paying. You tried to pay for your own meal and drinks, but Frankie insisted on paying. You both walked outside into the chilly night air, and Frankie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were even under the streetlights. You cleared your throat and Frankie noticed a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I uh, I don’t really want this night to end, do you?” you asked. Frankie decided to do what he could feel himself wanting to do all night.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you as he cupped your soft cheeks in his rough, calloused hands and kissed you. Your reaction was almost immediate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair, pressing your bodies together. Your tongue darted along his bottom lip and he instantly granted you access, his own tongue sliding into your mouth. He wanted you. Desperately.

“Do you want to come back to mine,” Frankie asked, his hands slid down to your waist, he kissed along your neck, feeling your pulse flutter under his lips. You moaned softly as his mouth found your collarbone.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes.”

He kissed you again, before breaking away to lead you back to his truck.

“How far?” you asked.

“Five minutes,” Frankie said, resting his hand on your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ended. He felt himself tighten in his jeans as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. He driver faster than necessary, turning the journey into a quick three minutes. Once the truck was off you didn’t waste a moment, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs. Your lips met his frantically, like you were both starving for each other.

Frankie’s hardness pressed against his jeans as you ground against him. He kissed down along your neck and jaw, relishing in your soft moans. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass, the other snaked up your body to your breasts, pulling your dress down to expose them. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight of your breasts in the silver moonlight was irresistible. Frankie’s lips kissed a path down your neck to your collarbone, down further still until he had a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over it gently, while his hand played with the other, rolling it around between his finger.

“Frankie,” you moaned, arching your back to give him better access. “Fuck.”

“You like that baby?” he whispered looking up at you. You whimpered in response as the hand on your breast moved down your body toward your thighs.

“Please,” you spread your legs a little further for him, and his fingers began to massage your clit though your soaking underwear. Frankie’s tongue continued to work at your nipple licking and sucking while you cried out in pleasure.

His fingers teased the outside of your entrance, his thumb working your clit in methodical circles.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice husky. You moaned in response, unable to form any words as his fingers slid easily inside of you. Frankie watched your face as he fingered you, his own cock straining against his jeans. God he wanted to fuck you, but not until you’d already cum for him.

Frankie moved his thumb in faster circles and you began to fall apart. You clenched around his fingers, crying out as your body shook with your orgasm. He moved his mouth up to kiss you, whispering between kisses.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

“We need to go inside,” you panted, your body still trembling slightly. Frankie couldn’t agree more, fumbling with the door of his truck, then his house keys. The moment the door was open you were on him, pulling his jacket off his shoulders, unzipping his jeans. Your bodies moved together in the direction of the kitchen, knocking something down in the process.

Frankie moaned into your mouth as your hands glided up his torso under his shirt. He pressed you against the counter and lifted you up, yanking your dress down to your ankles in the process.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered in your ear, “do you want that?”

“Yes, Frankie, please,” you begged, desperate for him to touch you. He grinned slyly as he crouched down slightly in front of you and spread your legs. The sight of your underwear, drenched with desire, made his mouth water.

Frankie didn’t want to waste a single moment more. With one quick move he slid your underwear down your legs and was working your clit with his tongue. Two fingers moved inside of you and quirked in a come-hither motion.

Your whine of pleasure spurred him on, his tongue massaging your clit expertly. Frankie wanted to tell you how good you tasted, how sexy you sounded, but he didn’t want to waste a moment that could be spent pleasuring you.

“Frankie!” you gasped, your back arching. Your thighs pressed into the side of his head and he moved faster, harder, cock aching with the need to be inside you.

“Frankie, I’m gonna-“ your words were cut short by your orgasm, this one somehow more intense than the one in his truck. Frankie looked up at your face as you came, mouth never leaving your sweet wetness. Your head hung back, moans the only sound you’re able to make. Licking his lips, Frankie stood and cupped the back of your head gently, lifting it so he can look in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as beautiful as you come home with him, but he wants to make certain it’s worth your while.

He leant down and whispered your name, the sound sweet on his lips. You sat up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself on him.

“Where’s your bed?” you murmured and Frankie smiled against you. Without another word he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to his room, laying you gently on the bed. You looked beautiful, naked in the moonlight, staring up at him with desire.

Frankie discarded the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. His fingers traced soft circles on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked

“I need you in me,” you reached up and pulled him closer, “I need you.”

Frankie reached over to his dresser and grabbed a condom, saying a silent thanks to his past self for buying them, and fitted it onto his shaft. Then he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He lined himself up at your slick entrance, and slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt you with his larger than average size. You whimpered slightly as he pulled out, bucking your hips to stay closer to him.

Fuck you felt so good, you tight walls clenching slightly with each thrust. His thrusts became harder, slamming into you as his own ecstasy built. He moaned your name as you held onto his biceps, nails digging into his warm sweaty skin.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off on his own release, and with you looking at him they way you were, you made it almost impossible to hold back. But no, he wouldn’t. Not until you came a third time for him. He needed to feel you cum with his cock inside you.

Frankie moved his hand so it was between you both, and began to massage your slick, swollen clit. You cried out and clenched his biceps harder, and he felt the moment you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, your walls tightening around his cock, coating it with your pleasure.

“Cum, Frankie,” you whispered in his ear, and god he wanted to. Frankie grunted as he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Pleasure flushed through his body as he came to the sound of you moaning his name. In that moment, the only tangible things were his orgasm, the feel of you and your voice. It was a few moments before his thoughts became coherent again. He had never experienced pleasure like that with any other woman.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, noticing a bead of sweat that had formed between your breasts. Your eyes were half closed, but you watched him as he discarded the condom into a wastebasket, grabbed a box of tissues and with a touch gentler than he thought possible for him, began to clean up between your legs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

You giggled softly, sitting up to kiss him. “You’re the one who made me cum three times. Most guys can’t even manage once.”

Frankie stroked your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours, deciding in that moment you were someone he did not want to let go of. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Fuck yes.”

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

"Home of the Lost: Chapter 1"

I hope you all like it! 💜

General warning for the complete fic: violence, Santa Carla violence, some creeps (nothing happens) and in the beginning some mentions of starvation. If more warnings are needed I'll add them by the chapters where they're needed.

---------------------------

Wes had seen many people come and go at the busstation. Young teens going on a trip, celebrating their young lives and the end of their highschool career in sunny places where the partying never seemed to end. Elderly people who went to visit their family, always carrying bags filled with goods. They often told him exactly what they brought for which family member. He remembered one time that an elderly married couple proudly told him they were going to visit their daughter and grandkids. "We even made them something," the grandpa had grinned, showing Wes a stuffed prairie dog. Wes had laughed, wondering if he'd just found the most amazingly weird grandparents ever. Gifting a kid a taxidermy project wasn't exactly a normal present, right?

Yes, Wes had seen many people, come and go, hardly ever returning.... And he liked it, he loved driving and meeting new people everyday. It was a fun, rather carefree job.

Sometimes however he had passengers that stuck with him. The elderly couple for instance, for their comfortable weirdness. Or some of the teens, telling him how they had barely passed all year and aced their exams. Sometimes it weren't the obvious people that stood out, it were the quiet ones.

Wes stopped the bus at the busstation in Phoenix. It had been a clear day, and he assumed the night would be just like that. He got of the bus as the last passenger grabbed their things, and locked the doors behind him. He walked inside, greeting Tilly, the girl working behind the desk, as he made his way to one of the small restaurants.

"Would you like some desert with that?"

Wes was next in line, waiting for the girl in front of him to be finished. He saw her shake her head at the barista, who nodded. "Anything else?"

"Eh, no.. Thanks," the girl spike, stepping aside. She kept looking at the luxurious meals displayed in the window, staring at the steaming lasagne. Then next to it a shepherd's pie. Some creamy and thick soups, some slices of turkey and duck... And then the deserts, all the pies you could imagine. Apple, blueberry, pumpkin - the girl eyed them all with a hint of both longing and sadness in her eyes.

"Can I take your order, sir?"

Wes looked up, seeing that the girl in front of him had gotten a small sandwich.

"Yeah, can I get two lasagnes, and two slices of pumpkin pie? Oh, and two bowls of fruit?"

"Of course," the barista told him what he owed, and that it would be brought to him when it was finished.

"Excuse me," Wes looked at the girl, who he now realised was younger than she had seemed. "I saw you standing in line, and I noticed you'd been staring at several of the items. I ehm, well - I thought you might like this."

The girl looked up from her sandwich, shock written all over her as she saw the full dinner standing in front of her.

"I- I can't take this, thank you sir, but this - this is to much..."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled, "you look starved. The least I can do is make sure you actually get something warm inside you."

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome. Enjoy your meal," he was about to walk away when he heard her talk to him again.

"I've got some space here still? If you're looking for a place to sit?"

He smiled, thanking her. "I'm Wes, by the way."

"Star. Nice to meet you."

"So where are you traveling to?" Wes asked as he walked towards the bus. Star was right behind him, carrying only a small backpack.

"I'm not sure yet. I just needed to go, I guess."

"That's as good a reason as any," he opened the door, letting her pick a seat already. "The bus will leave in about thirty minutes. So, if you still need anything, a toilet break or if you want to buying something to keep you occupied during the ride, now's your time to do so."

"I'm fine, thanks though." Star smiled, sitting down. How much had happened in the little time she was here.

She hadn't been lying. She really didn't know where she wanted to go. All she knew was that she couldn't stay where she was. It was driving her insane, making her crazy. She had no choice but to leave, and she was glad she'd done so. The only problem with leaving suddenly was, and this was something Star began to realise more and more, that you often forgot things. Small yet important things. Things like money. She had tried to last as long as she could with what she had, but with the price of the busticket she was getting in the danger zone. She hadnt even been able to pay for an actual meal tonight... She sighed as she leaned against the window, her bag held closely in her arms. Maybe she would find happiness wherever she'd go. Maybe shed find a place to call home. She smiled, staring at her reflection as she slowly began to drift off as the bus began to leave the station.

Wes drove through the night, passing many fields - some empty, some being overgrown with corn. He checked his rear view mirror from time to time, checking on his passengers. An old woman in the back, dozing off with a book still stuck in her hands. A father and son, cuddling together as they slept. And the girl, Star. She was awake now, staring out of the window and into the night.

"Any idea where you're going to, yet?"

Star shook her head. "Why? You've got some advice?"

"Yeah, one of the stops is in Santa Cruz, now this town is a bit unwelcoming. The next town, Santa Carla, is a haven for kids like you."

"Why?"

"Because those who do not want to be found go there. It's the place for the lost and downtrodden, and those who wished for a live filled with parties. I'm telling you, I would go there if I were in your position."

"If I want to go there, how do I get there?"

"I'll tell you in more details when we're in Santa Cruz, but basically, once there you keep walking south. Santa Carla is not to far from there, about six miles."

Star nodded, not quite agreeing with the 'not far from here' statement. If she had to walk, six miles was quite far. Still, Santa Carla would give her a destination. Maybe that town would give her something new and fresh, and a chance to start over. That would be nice, she thought as she stared out the window again. Starting over with a clean slate. She smiled as sleep dragged her away once again.

"Next stop Santa Cruz. Please don't forget your luggage."

The electronic voice woke Star up. A soft yawn escaped her as she stretched, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had just grabbed her bag from the luggagerack above her, when the bus came to a stop.

The doors opened and a warm autumn breeze welcomed her. She was about to step out as she turned to the driver with a smile. "Thank you for everything, Wes."

"No problem. Take care of yourself kid."

And with those words the two acquaintances closed the chapter, both realising that this would be the last time they saw each other. Then again, Wes thought as he drove off, that's what he liked about being a busdriver. And doing something kind every once in a while? He knew it could make the difference of a lifetime. He just hoped that this girl would have a lifetime to enjoy it, only now realising that Santa Carla by day was a very different Santa Carla than the Santa Carla at night. She'd be fine, he decided, as he drove the final passengers to their destination.

Star sighed, quietly wondering where to go now. She was hungry, not having eaten since she left the busstop eighteen hours ago. But, she realised as she placed her backpack on her back, if she'd eat now she'd have no money for a potential dinner. So, she began to walk. What choice did she have? Besides, she wanted to see this Santa Carla. See if it really was a haven for the lost. If it was, it would be an interesting place to stay, right?

She kept on walking, ignoring the scorching sun as it burned her skin. She had been walking for almost an hour now, and her feet were beginning to feel sore. Her legs hurt, she had a headache. With a sigh she grabbed the small bottle of water form her bag, taking some careful sips. There was not much left, and she knew she needed it to last until she made it into the next town. She began to feel tired as she neared the town. Tired, dirty, thirsty - she could come up with a whole list of what she felt like, but 'fine' 'great' or 'okay' definitely weren't on that list. As she began to see the town at the horizon, a pink hue covering it due to the sinking sun, she began to feel a strange sort of calm fall over her. As if everything would be alright is she stayed there. As if this place was calling her home.

Gathering the courage to move just a little bit more, she finally passed the welcoming board of the town. Finally. She walked further, deciding to find somewhere to eat first. She needed some food inside her before going to search for a sleeping spot.

She walked down a lazy street, finding an old woman sitting at her porch.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Star asked.

"Yes?"

"Could you maybe tell me where I could grab something to eat?"

"Oh, yes!" The old woman stood up, smiling kindly at her. "If you go down this street and take a turn to the left you'll end up at the boardwalk."

"I didn't know Santa Carla had a boardwalk." Star said softly. "Thank you, ma'am!"

"No problem dear, stay safe."

"Thanks!"

Star followed the instructions, feeling somewhat happy to have found this town. She turned to the left, seeing a large rollercoaster. People were laughing and smiling, and a rare sense of happy comfort warmed her up inside. One day she'd have enough to go for a ride, to join in that feeling of cheer. Now however she needed to find food. As she walked further, looking at the crowds and the rides, she noticed a small café. It had a sign stating "The Sunset Sisters," and a menulist with many delicious yet cheap items. Some pasta's, pizza's, tacos - Star smiled, finally having found dinner. She took the bag from her back, grabbing her wallet, when someone pushed her over. Hard.

So hard that her whole body slammed against the floor. So hard that she dropped her bag. So hard that at first she didn't notice that her wallet had been missing. The second she realised what had happened she stood up, running after the guy that stole from her.

"Stop! Stop that guy, somebody please!"

Nobody listened to her, and she saw no other possible thing to do than to continue running. She followed the guy down the street, off of the boardwalk, into a dark alley. She was trying to catch her breath, a painful sting in her side reminding her that she was not used to running. "Give my wallet back," she said, with a stern sound in her voice that surprised even herself.

"Or what? You'll huff and you'll puff?" The man laughed, shaking his head. "You're lucky I only took this. I could have taken much more, girly," he grinned as he stared at her, slowly licking her wallet. "So much m-"

Star didn't wait around. She knew he was bad news - she knew it the second he stole from her - but this... She hurried back to the boardwalk, hoping to find someone kind enough to help her get some money or food. Otherwise, she'd really have to try and find a job quickly.

She sighed as she entered the boardwalk once again. "Welcome to Santa Carla, hm," she mumbled softly, quietly wondering if it had been a wise move to go here.

Next chapter series masterlist

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Pt 43 - Crazy

You’d been with your share of women who liked rough sex - Seulgi, Chaeyoung, occasionally Momo and Seolhyun. But those girls had always been interested in kinks that were at least somewhat consistent with their personalities. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Seulgi was into rough, occasionally painful sex; likewise, Chaeyoung’s preference for zip ties and name calling didn’t strike you as being out of character with the type of person she was outside of the bedroom.

Miyawaki Sakura was either lazy and airheaded or intense and intimidating, depending on what she was doing. Before you were made aware of this new facet of Sakura’s personality you’d only seen such duality before in Sana; but Sana’s personality swings didn’t surprise you like Sakura’s did, nor was the difference between her two poles nearly as extreme as that of the Japanese police officer.

Sakura was altogether different from those girls. She was two sides of the same constantly flipping coin, it seemed. At the moment you were finding out that this duality extended to her sexual pursuits, where she flipped between being an overly friendly, sugary sweet girl to a woman with very specific, very unique kinks on a minute-by-minute basis.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” she states, the tone in her voice sounding much more pleasant than earlier in the day, especially as it echoed against the cold shower tiles. “I was in the middle of re-reading the Fate series. Did you know the third movie is coming out this summer? I’m sooo looking forward to it. Are you familiar with the Fate series?”

Speaking proved exceedingly difficult given the ball gag in your mouth, and so you settled for nodding.

“She’s going away for awhile, don’t you worry.”

“She better be,” you answer. “I just hope she leads us to the other three members of Blackpink before they lock her up - or that Canadian officer takes her overseas. Did you have a chat with Officer Miyawaki about this?”

“I’ve told her we want time with Rose before she’s extradited and Officer Miyawaki has promised to raise the issue with her superiors, but she hasn’t quite gotten around to it yet,” Nayeon answers.

You both peer into the interrogation room through the one-way glass. On one side of the table sits Rose, her head in her hands. In her prisoner’s jumpsuit and messy hair, she looked outright miserable - a far cry from the dolled up look she sported at the event two days prior. Gone is the haughty, arrogant air that she wore about her like perfume - now she looked small, afraid, almost as if the cold reality of what was about to happen to her had just recently set in.

She hadn’t said a word since she stepped into the room. The young, nervous looking YG-appointed lawyer seated next to her rebuffed all of the questions directed to her client by telling her that she didn’t have to answer anything, as was her right. Rose’s body language, though, told you all you needed to know about her state of mind.

On the other side of the table are Jihyo and Somi Douma, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer who had arrested Rose at the event. Both of them are placing piece after piece of evidence onto the table in an attempt to get something out of the Blackpink member - to no avail so far, thanks to her lawyer. The looks of frustration on the two young officers has been steadily building, but it is tempered somewhat by the fact that much of the evidence was simply indisputable. Rose’s silence today would do nothing to keep her from spending a lot of time behind bars when the time came.

The other two occupants of the room, sitting in a smaller table by the exit, are Mina and Officer Miyawaki. The former is diligently jotting down notes from the meeting into an iPad, the latter seemingly engaged in something important on her phone - but given her known predisposition for playing video games on the job and the fact that her phone was horizontal, you decided she was likely playing a game.

“Sakura was super intense at the event,” Nayeon says, as if reading your thoughts regarding the young Japanese police officer. “When she showed up with Jihyo and Somi to arrest Rose, she had her game face on. It was almost scary. She wanted to see layouts of the building, possible exits and escape routes, dossiers on who might be there and who they might be with. She looked ready to take down every bad guy in the entire restaurant, all on her own.”

“I saw,” you agree. “She walked in there like she owned the place. Rose’s bodyguard tried to stop her, but whatever she said to him made him look like a whipped dog afterward. She destroyed that guy.”

“And now here she is at a major interrogation involving multiple international parties and she’s on her phone playing Among Us,” Nayeon scoffs. “It’s like she has an on and off switch when it comes to her job. I don’t get it. To be honest, I find it a little odd that the precinct would bury someone with her on-site skills in the record keeping department and not out in the field walking a beat.”

You take a moment to consider Nayeon’s point. She was right; surely the Tokyo PD could make better use of Sakura by constantly keeping her in the field, where she clearly excelled, instead of the records department where she was buried under paperwork she had little interest in. There had to be a reason behind it all, but you currently had more pressing issues on your mind than the Japanese liaison officer’s career prospects.

“We need to make sure she gets us that time with Rose. Preferably without her lawyer present.”

“That would be against the rules,” Nayeon says, hesitantly. She knew what you were implying and while she knew you weren’t going to hurt Rose or do anything stupid, she felt she had to tell you anyway out of obligation.

“There’s nothing illegal about me having a chat with a lovely young Australian woman I met at an event a few nights ago,” you reply with a sly smile.

Nayeon smirks, but understands your implication. “I’ll remind Officer Miyawaki,” she says.

In the room, Sakura lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes back into her head - her spaceman was likely just bitten in half by an impostor. Next to her, Mina frowns and shakes her head, a look of plain disapproval on her face.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll remind her myself.”

---

It didn’t take long to find Sakura later that day. She was absent from her desk, but a nearby colleague told you she was on her lunch hour - even though at that point it was nearly three in the afternoon. While your time with Nayeon and Jihyo had informed you that law enforcement officers saw lunch breaks as a rare luxury, you also knew that Sakura didn’t conform to the usual expectations of this particular line of work. With your limited Japanese and a healthy amount of hand gestures, you were able to ascertain from her colleague that she usually took her lunch breaks on the roof of the building.

The precinct proved to be a little bit of a maze, but you eventually found your way to the roof, which, like many buildings in Asia, was open to access and was often used as a kind of recreational space for the building’s inhabitants. After your time inside the cramped interior of the building you were happy to be outside again, enjoying the fresh air and the sunny, crisp winter afternoon.

Sitting on a bench in one of the corners of the space was Sakura, legs crossed, her nose buried in what looked like a manga. The small pile of convenience store sandwich containers and empty candy wrappers that occupied the rest of the bench confirmed that she was indeed on her lunch break. The volume of the trash, however, implied she’d been there awhile, leading you to wonder just how long her lunch “hours” usually lasted.

“Officer Miyawaki,” you say as you approach her, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if-”

You are stopped mid-sentence by a raised finger. Without taking her attention from the manga, Sakura reaches for a half-full bottle of Pocari Sweat next to her on the bench, which she brings to her mouth to take a sip. Eyes working quickly, she finishes the page she was reading before turning the page and devouring that one as well. With brows furrowed and eyes narrowed with concentration, there is a clear look of complete and utter intensity on her face that you’d seen only once before - when she was confronting Rose’s bodyguard and putting him in his place. 

When you’d first been introduced to Miyawaki Sakura you’d wondered just how she had managed to keep her job given her obvious laziness and what seemed to be an utter lack of interest in her duties - or even in maintaining the false appearance of an interest. But her role in the events of two nights prior, and the seriousness with which she carried herself while on-site, answered that question for you. It became clear that her superiors kept her around because when the chips were down and the game was on, she could put on a game face that almost scared you with its intensity. When that happened, she was almost a different person entirely.

The question then became why her superiors had assigned her to the record keeping department. Was it a demotion? Did they think she was too unstable or unreliable for field work? There had to be a reason. 

She goes on for three more pages, consuming the art and text within the manga like they were some sort of life-giving energy source that she could not go a moment more without. You are left to stand there, awkwardly, a little taken aback by the speed and ease at which she had silenced you - but unconsciously, a little afraid of what might happen if you’d insisted on interrupting her reading.

Finally, after reaching what seemed to be a chapter’s conclusion or some other boundary within the manga, she retrieves a bookmark from her bench and marks her place before finally acknowledging your presence.

“Yes?” she says, a look of undisguised annoyance on her otherwise soft, adorable features.

“I, well, I was… um, hoping we could have a quick moment of your time, Officer Miyawaki,” you answer, suddenly unsure of your words, your tongue having turned into stone in your mouth. You’d expected a fast and easy chat - you usually had no problems charming your share of pretty young women - but your resolve had faltered unexpectedly under the piercing gaze of the young officer.

“About?” she asks, plainly, even though you knew what you wanted to talk about must have been obvious to her. What else could it have been, if not Rose? Did she just want to hear you ask for something? Did she want to hear you beg and grovel?

“About the girl, uh, the woman that Officer Dou- I mean, you, you placed in your custody a couple of nights ago,” you answer. 

“Yes, and, what about her?”

“I was hoping I could have a chat- er, maybe, some time, with her. Alone, before she, they, she’s, well... taken away.”

“And what would you want to speak to her about?”

“Well, you see, um…. we’re kind of after her colleagues - three of them. They’re in this team, er, corporate espionage group - they’re called Blackpink. I, well, me, my team and I, we were hoping she could lead us to the other three.”

Sakura takes a moment to weigh your request, her large, deep eyes boring into yours. You were a little ashamed to admit you were faltering a little bit under the intensity of her gaze. While you were sure her current demeanor was borne from you so rudely interrupting her reading and not from any malicious intent, it did little to keep you from withering under her look.

Eventually Sakura’s eyes leave you, and you find yourself releasing an inward sigh of relief to be free of her gaze. 

“I can arrange something,” she says as she opens her manga again. “But it will cost you. Helping you and that foreign officer during that arrest resulted in a lot of extra paperwork for me.”

You are about to say something about her job and the amount of work she actually had to do, especially given the fact that she was in the middle of what seemed to be a three hour lunch break, but an unconscious fear of being put under her gaze once more meant that your response died in your throat.

“What exactly… can I do f-for you, Officer Miyawaki?”

“Sakura is fine,” she says under her breath as she finds her place in her manga. “Meet me in the precinct showers in two hours. Cancel any appointments you may have this afternoon.”

You are left a little stunned by her demand, and what it might have meant. The possibilities run through your mind at a million miles an hour; what did she mean-

“You can leave,” Sakura states, and not wanting to risk her ire by lingering any longer, you quickly turn and leave.

---

You’d been with your share of women who liked rough sex - Seulgi, Chaeyoung, occasionally Momo and Seolhyun. But those girls had always been interested in kinks that were at least somewhat consistent with their personalities. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Seulgi was into rough, occasionally painful sex; likewise, Chaeyoung’s preference for zip ties and name calling didn’t strike you as being out of character with the type of person she was outside of the bedroom.

Miyawaki Sakura was either lazy and airheaded or intense and intimidating, depending on what she was doing. Before you were made aware of this new facet of Sakura’s personality you’d only seen such duality before in Sana; but Sana’s personality swings didn’t surprise you like Sakura’s did, nor was the difference between her two poles nearly as extreme as that of the Japanese police officer.

Sakura was altogether different from those girls. She was two sides of the same constantly flipping coin, it seemed. At the moment you were finding out that this duality extended to her sexual pursuits, where she flipped between being an overly friendly, sugary sweet girl to a woman with very specific, very unique kinks on a minute-by-minute basis.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” she states, the tone in her voice sounding much more pleasant than earlier in the day, especially as it echoed against the cold shower tiles. “I was in the middle of re-reading the Fate series. Did you know the third movie is coming out this summer? I’m sooo looking forward to it. Are you familiar with the Fate series?”

Speaking proved exceedingly difficult given the ball gag in your mouth, and so you settled for nodding.

“Ah, that’s good!” Sakura exclaims, “I’m such a big fan. I totally ship Shirou and Saber, although I’m also a fan of Shirou and Sakura - I bet you can guess why! I like both couples, though; it really depends on what mood I’m in! Sometimes I- whoops, is that too tight for you?”

It was. The girl knew how to tie a neat, tight knot (which itself raised several questions) and the thick nylon rope dug painfully into your wrists as she tied them behind your back, but you gave your head a shake nonetheless. The black cloth blindfold she’d tied around your head was similarly a little too tight for comfort and was beginning to give you a headache - not that you were willing, or even able, to tell Sakura as such.

Even if you could speak, you weren’t sure you would stop her from proceeding. You were equal parts terrified and aroused by the sharp, unexpected turn of events this afternoon had taken, but the thought of stopping the young woman hadn’t yet occurred to you.

“Good, I don’t want to hurt you. Anyway, yeah, I’m sorry if I came off rude this afternoon. I just don’t like to be interrupted during my lunch hour. That’s when I get all my reading done! Because the rest of the day I’m so busy with work, you see. Anyway… you’re all set!”

You obviously couldn’t see her through the blindfold, but the loud click-clack of Sakura’s high-heeled shoes against the shower tiles tell you she has stepped in front of you. The next few moments of silence provide no audible clue to tell you what she is doing, but you knew she was likely giving you a good long look from head to toe, as if enjoying the sight of you sitting on a stool, gagged, bound, and blindfolded.

“It’s time to begin, I think. Are you ready?” 

Her tone reminded you a little bit of any of a hundred anime voice actors, particularly those that voiced the sugary sweet and cute characters. And Sakura was nothing if not cute, although she also seemed to have a bit of a crazy side to her - a side it seemed you were about to get to know intimately, whether you were ready for it or not.

You nod, because there wasn’t much else you could do.

“Good! Let’s start!” she says, sounding a bit like an announcer for a game that involved Italian plumbers and dragon/turtle hybrids racing go-karts - and not like she was about to engage in a sexual act with very particular, very specific kinks.

So when she straddles you on the stool, her long, thin legs suddenly on either side of your waist and her small frame atop your lap, you were a little unsure about how to react to the juxtaposition between her tone and her actions. With other women you would have enjoyed the weight of her body on top of yours and the promise of impending pleasure. But with Sakura you were a little hesitant - and as much as you hated to admit it, almost a little afraid.

“So as I mentioned earlier, I’d be happy to set up a meeting with you and that Australian chick,” she says, her voice dripping with sugar even as you feel her trace random patterns with her fingertip on your jawline and chin. “But I’ll need to get something out of it.”

You are unable to manage anything more than a muffled groan, and so you settle for nodding your head once more.

“Good.”

Sakura’s hand drifts lower, her fingertip never breaking contact with you as it drifts down your neck and chest, eventually reaching the buckle of the jeans you wore. Her fingers work quickly, and before you know it she has your button undone and the zipper lowered, your quickly hardening shaft aching for its impending release from its cotton prison.

“Oh! You are quite eager for us to begin, I see.”

You nod.

“Well then, let’s see what you’re hiding under here.”

Sakura’s tone continues to be that of a cute, sweet girl. Her actions, as she frees your nearly fully hardened shaft from your boxers, are altogether the opposite.

You feel the breath leave your lungs in a rush as she grasps your cock in her small, dainty little hands for the first time and gives it a few small, exploratory pumps. It would have been utterly arousing at any other time. But now, wrists bound behind you and with your eyes and mouth rendered useless, it almost felt like your sense of touch was heightened - and it felt utterly sublime. It wasn’t long before you the Japanese police officer had brought you to full, aching stiffness.

“I see now why your team is full of those women,” she observes, a slight hint of edge appearing in her tone. “I bet they love taking turns being filled with this.”

“Mmmghmm,” you answer.

“What’s that? You fuck them on a daily basis? I bet you pump their thirsty mouths and wet little pussies just full of your cum on the regular, don’t you? Maybe those tight little asses too?”

“Yughhhm.”

“I bet they love it, too, don’t they? I bet you have them all bent to your will like the obedient, needy little fucktoys that they are. Is that right?”

“Mmmahghg.”

“I knew it. I knew all of those girls were filthy little sluts the second I saw them.”

To hear such filth come out of Sakura’s mouth - out of a girl whom you’d pegged as being adorable and cute if a little airheaded and lazy - was more than a little bewildering. Each of her words dripped with sweet sugar tone even if the actual content of her words was dirty and nasty. Two sides of the same coin. Two faces of the same girl.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to play a game. Do you want to play a game?”

For a second you are frozen as a shiver of fear crawls up your spine - you’d seen enough horror movies to know that nothing good ever followed that question. But you had to admit that it both frightened and aroused you. Part of you wanted to submit to her every whim, and part of you suddenly wanted to run away as quickly as you could. 

You nod.

“Good! I’m happy. Let’s lay down the rules. Hmmm… well, there’s actually only two! Are you ready for them? Are you paying attention?”

It was a little difficult to do so, truth be told. She hadn’t stopped pumping your cock, at an almost lazy pace, with her slender, soft hands. She had begun to squeeze on the downstroke and loosen on the upstroke, causing a delicious little jolt of pleasure to shoot right to your brain every few seconds.

You nod.

“Okay! Rule number one - every time you make me cum, I remove one item of your choice: your blindfold, your gag, or the ties at your wrists. How much time I give you with the Australian girl depends on how good you fuck, I guess! I’ll make the judgement at the end. Rule number two - you don’t get to say anything aside from a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ Pretty simple, huh? You understand the rules, right?”

Despite laying down the ground rules for what would likely be a filthy sexual act, Sakura sounds a bit like a voice actor reading the script to the tutorial level of a Mario Party game. The prospect of regaining your ability to see, touch and taste her was appealing, and with the ball gag filling your mouth you couldn’t exactly voice any objections to her rules even if you had any.

You nod.

“Good! Then let’s begin!”

Without giving you much time to ready yourself, Sakura presses her body forward on your lap - and almost immediately you feel the wet heat of her pussy pressed against the base of your shaft.

Before she put the blindfold on you, the police officer had been wearing a short blue skirt and black heels along with the blue blouse that formed her uniform. Had she removed her panties somewhere along the way? Was she ever wearing panties at all?

Your brain had little time or bandwidth to answer those questions - not as Miyawaki Sakura began to grind herself against the underside of your cock, her hips swirling up and down, finding and trapping your shaft between the splayed lips of her pussy and moving, slowly at first, up and down its length. She is absolutely dripping. Her flesh is hot and warm against your cock. Were your mouth not gagged, you would have let out a long, wordless moan - but it escapes your throat as a wet, guttural sound instead.

Sakura, her own mouth unbound, lets the first outward sign of her arousal escape her lips in a long, drawn-out gasp. The entire process - binding you, teasing you, explaining her rules to you - must have turned her on immensely. The slick, warm juices that coated your cock in a thick, glistening layer with each grind of her hips were clear indication of how turned on she was. You found yourself impressed that she was able to hide her need for so long behind her sickly sweet tone.

“Mmmm, that feels so good!” she gasps. “Mmm, you’re so big, and you’re not even inside me yet!”

You nod.

And so for a few delicious minutes you are content to let the small Japanese girl grind herself harder and harder against your cock, her slick, hot pussy pressed against the underside of your shaft, sliding up and down, up and down, up and down. The small shower room reverberates with the soft squeaking of your stool on the tiles, and the soft, pleasant moans of pleasure that leave Sakura’s throat.

“Mmm, fuck, I’m gonna cum already, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so quickly, mmmmm, your cock is so hard! Do you like the feel of my pussy? The feel of my clit on your cock? Hmmm? Do you want to be inside me?”

You nod. 

You are surprised by how quickly she was coming to her first orgasm, even if the heat emanating from her splayed pussy lips as she grinds them against you, combined with the sheer amount of the juices that were now running down your balls, clearly indicated how needy and wanton she was even before she first touched you.

“D-Do you want me… oh, fuck… do you want me to-to cum all over your hard cock?”

You nod.

Sakura’s response is to orgasm. 

You’d been with plenty of women before, witnessed the many forms of the female orgasm and the differences in the bodies of each woman when she finally reaches her peak. Each was unique. But even given that fact, you knew that no other woman on Earth orgasmed like Miyawaki Sakura did.

She felt a little bit like she was being jolted with electricity - every fibre of her being quivered and shook like she had a thousand volts coursing through her veins. It was almost unnerving, in a way, and from the way her small body trembled atop yours you were worried that she had hurt herself somehow. 

Even the way she orgasmed was far from the norm. The more you knew about Miyawaki Sakura, the more and more you were frightened of her. 

But the same things that frightened you also aroused you.

It seems to last forever, her orgasm. When her body finally winds down, the loud breaths that leave her throat and the fact that she has slumped forward onto your chest imply that she is somewhat drained by the experience.

“That was pretty good!” Sakura exclaims once she has regained her energy, sounding once more like she were some sort of video game announcer. “As per the rules of our game, you get to remove one item. What would you like it to be?”

Your options run though your head, each with their own merits. You would’ve loved to finally lay your hands on the young woman, and the thought of watching her cum obviously appealed to you, but the opportunity to taste her won out.

“Mowwffth,” you manage to mumble. 

“Your mouth? You want to get rid of the gag? Are you sure?” Sakura asks, sounding the way a video game does when you decide to overwrite a game save and it wants you to be sure of your decision.

You nod.

“Okay! Away it goes!”

Sakura reaches behind your head and you feel the ball gag loosen before she rips it none-too-gently from your mouth. A drip of saliva spills from your mouth - one that Sakura is quick to lick off your chin with her tongue.

Her tongue, feeling long and particularly flexible, traces a path up your chin until it finds your lips. She crushes your lips with hers in a torrid, passionate kiss that had little affection but plenty of need, her hands quickly reaching behind your blindfolded head and pressing your head against hers as she sticks her tongue as far into your mouth as she could. Your tongue wrestles with hers, but she quickly gains the upper hand, and it is all you can do to sit there and submit to letting the young woman explore your mouth at her whim.

When she finally tears her lips from yours she lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Mmmm, that was a good choice. You’re a good kisser! And it will definitely help you when it comes to the next way you’re going to make me cum. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you say, finally happy to be able to speak.

“Good. Get ready!”

Sakura climbs off your lap, and you lament the loss of her warm body for a split second - until you hear the snap of her foot meeting the stool you were sitting on, followed by a sharp thud of your butt hitting the floor as she kicks the stool out from under you.

You are about to groan in pain at your hard, unexpected landing, about to protest at the way she was treating you - when you hear Sakura step over your body, her crotch just inches from your face. She must have been lifting her skirt to get it out of the way, because when she presses herself against you, you find yourself face to face with her pussy.

There was no doubt in your mind now. Miyawaki Sakura was crazy.

But you weren’t in a position to complain, not with the girl’s juicy, slick, hot pussy suddenly and fiercely pressed against your face, her splayed lips immediately smearing your nose, lips and chin with her juices. By instinct your tongue darts out, almost like a defensive measure. You begin to lick her slowly, hesitantly, still caught a little wrong footed by her ridiculous aggressiveness - but Sakura was having none of that, and she quickly grasps the back of your scalp with one hand and presses it against her warm, wet folds.

“You can do better than that,” she says, her tone still that of the video game announcer, as though she were encouraging a kart racer who had fallen behind. “Eat my pussy like the hungry little fucktoy you are.”

You follow her orders, as much out of fear of upsetting her as the need to finally have your fill of the needy young woman’s body. You start by giving her long, slow licks from the bottom of her pussy to the top, ensuring to add a little swirl of the tip of your tongue around her engorged clit as  you reach it. Sakura moans in pleasure as you drink of her, enjoying the pleasant, sweet bitterness of the girl’s plentiful juices on your tongue.

When you decide that the steadily rising volume of her moans and gasps, enhanced by the echoing off the shower room’s tiled walls, has reached a high point, you quickly switch up your technique, latching your lips as best you could around her clit before swiping at it in broad, strong strokes with your tongue. You begin with strokes that begin and the bottom and end at the top. When she begins to quiver and shake, you begin to trace random patterns around her taut little bud.

“You’re doing so great!” Sakura moans, “I’ve never felt anything like that!”

You are almost annoyed now with her tone of voice - not that you were in a position to complain, not while her wet, slick lips were sweet upon your tongue and lips. You continue to swipe at her clit with your tongue, using the flat of it now to ensure maximum contact with the taut bud. Sakura begins to grind her hips against you, almost crushing her pussy against your face in an effort to draw every ounce of pleasure from your tongue as she could.

What a sight it would have been for anyone walking into the precinct showers at that moment. A man sitting on the floor, blindfolded and with hands bound behind his back, while Miyawaki Sakura stood over him, one hand pulling her skirt up and another gripping the back of his skull, pressing his helpless face against the wet, slick lips of her pussy.

Sakura grinds her face against you. You almost struggle to breathe - every time you come up for air, she presses you against the hot, slick flesh of her pussy with the hand grasping the back of your scalp. It was frightening. It was almost too much to handle. But it was also intensely, perversely arousing.

“Ah, stop, I need you inside me right now,” she snaps - the first time she’d broken her tone and shown the slightest hint of losing her composure. “Are you ready?”

“Fuck yes, Sakura. I want-”

Sakura silences you with a raised finger to your lips, just as she did earlier that afternoon on the rooftop.

“Just a yes or no, remember?”

“Y...yes,” you answer, suitably chastised.

“Good. Now sit there and be a good little cock for me to fuck.”

Sakura drops to her knees, straddling you once more. With your hands still bound behind your back you are unable to lie back fully, and so you settle into a sitting position as she sits on your lap. You would’ve given anything to get your hands on her hips, particularly as she adjusted herself for penetration - but you had to admit, not being able to see her or touch her beyond what she allowed your mouth and hips to do only heightened the intensity of your other senses.

She wastes no time. You felt her slim fingers on your cock for a moment, aligning your tip with her entrance, before she drops her hips and takes you inside her for the first time.

You both sigh out loud - loud, breathy sounds that echo off the tile surrounding you. Sakura gasps as you fill her completely, your crotches finally meeting as she fills herself with your stiff shaft for the first time. For a second you regret your choice to free your mouth and wish you’d freed your arms instead, as it would have allowed you to lie on your back and thus let Sakura penetrate herself more deeply - not that you were actually upset at being finally inside the needy, mewling young police officer.

“Oh my,” Sakura sighs, “you’re so fucking big inside me! Now I see, ohh! I see why those other girls keep you around! But now it’s my turn. My turn to use you as a fucktoy. Do you like being a fucktoy for me? Do you like being nothing more than a toy cock for me to fuck myself with?”

You want to argue with her, put her in her place, spit the same vulgarities and names right back at her. But there is a sharp, edgy undertone to Miyawaki Sakura, a kind of fierceness that made you fear what would happen if you did.

You decide to let her have her way - for now at least.

“Yes.”

“Good! Then get ready!”

Any misgivings you may have had about Sakura, about her double-sided personality, about her lack of professionalism when off-site and intimidating intensity when actually in the field, even about the way she spoke so casually and vulgarly about your relationship with your team - they all flew right out the window as she began to ride you. Every muscle in her small, lean body seemed devoted to driving your stiff shaft in and out of her body, each of her movements propelling her up and down as fast and hard as she was able. 

For all her faults and almost frightening instability, Miyawaki Sakura knew how to ride a cock.

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised by the lack of build up to the way Sakura rode you. It was all you could do to grit your teeth and attempt to stay upright as her tight, lithe body rocked up and down, threatening to tip you over and onto your back, which, given your bound hands, would have been quite uncomfortable. Thankfully Sakura quickly grips onto your shoulders, helping keep you upright as she used them for more leverage, driving you in and out of the hot, wet flesh between her legs again and again.

“Oh, oh fuck, you’re so fucking big!” Sakura moans, seemingly barely able to turn her thoughts into words before she abandons the thought of speaking altogether, relying instead on a wordless string of gasps and sighs to articulate the pleasure coursing through her veins.

You grit your teeth, relishing the feel of her tight heat wrapped around your cock as she continued to ride you with fierce abandon on the shower floor. Eager to do something more than merely hold on, you lean forward, searching for and then finding her upper chest, pressing your lips against the small patch of exposed skin at the top of her blouse. 

Sakura catches on to what you were doing, and the next thing you hear is the sound of buttons ripping from fabric as she quite literally tears the blouse open.

Were any other girl to rip open a button up shirt to give you access to her chest, you would have been surprised with her recklessness - but with Sakura it was simply par for the course.

Your hungry lips press themselves against the newly revealed skin of her upper chest, greedly pressing against her pale, vanilla skin, licking and kissing and tasting. Soon you find her neck, latching onto the warmth you find there, sucking hard enough to bruise her and leave marks on her otherwise perfect skin. Sakura hugs you tightly against her body, not lowering her pace at all, still riding you fiercely, her hips not ceasing for a moment in their desire to fill herself over and over again with stiff, hard cock. 

The minutes pass as the tiny little police officer fucks herself on your stiff cock, the small shower space filled with your wordless moans and the wet slap of flesh hitting flesh.

The entire experience was torrid, fierce, intense. Sakura was so unpredictable, so unreadable - and that was even not counting the fact that you were blindfolded or had your hands bound. Her personality seemed to flip from moment to moment, and while a part of you missed the stability and predictability of your other partners, you would have been lying if you had said Sakura’s sheer craziness didn’t also turn you on in its own unique, special way.

When Sakura cums, her body turning into the same shaking, quivering mess she was when she came the first time, you are thankful - because you were close behind. Her flesh tightens and pulsates around you even more than you’d thought possible.

“I’m gonna cum, Sakura,” you hiss, forsaking for a moment her rule to limit your speaking to simple yesses or nos, and being thankful she was so far lost in the pleasure overtaking her senses that she was unable to pick up on that particular rule violation.

“Fucking fill my tight little pussy with your hot cum, you little fucktoy!”

Helpless to do much else, you allow yourself to finally fall over the edge, letting a deep, low groan escape your throat as your cock spasms and begins to spurt thick, hot cum inside the still-quivering Japanese girl’s wet, slick pussy. Even as your cock fills her with semen Sakura doesn’t stop, still riding you fiercely, still impaling herself with what was left of her energy, pushing your cum even deeper inside of herself with each thrust of your spasming cock. 

It’s almost painful the way she slams her entire weight onto your crotch and the cold, unforgiving floor beneath it. You would’ve given anything to just hold her down by her hips and savor the feeling of your orgasm, the feeling of filling a young woman’s pussy with your cum for the first time. But what you wanted didn’t matter. You were in no position to tell her what you wanted, and she probably wouldn’t have cared even if you were.

When she finally stops it is almost a mercy. You are drained of energy like you’d never been before - utterly physically and mentally spent. Your cock still embedded hilt deep inside her, she reaches up and finally slips the blindfold from your eyes. You spend a few seconds blinking rapidly, your eyes unused to the sudden brightness.

“That was a great job! You have one hour with Rose,” she says, her face bright and cheerful, as though she were congratulating the first place kart racer and wasn’t currently impaled with a recently orgasmed cock, filled to the brim with its fresh, hot semen. She grabs you fiercely by the skull and gives you a final, fierce kiss. 

“Will an hour be enough?” she asks when she finally tears her lips from yours. Able to see now, you lock eyes with her, and while her eyes are large and bright, you notice now that they are laced with more than a little crazy, brimming just below the surface.

It occurred to you at that moment just why Miyawaki Sakura had been buried in the records department of her precinct by her superiors.

She was a little crazy.

Too spent to come up with anything resembling a verbal response, you resort to following her rules once more.

You nod.

---

“I’m sure Officers Park and Douma have informed you of the charges that will be brought against you, and that your lawyer has conveyed the gravity of the situation you’re in,” Momo states, matter-of-factly. “The evidence is indisputable. Your future doesn’t look bright, Rose.”

“I’m aware that I’m fucked, yes,” Rose replies, making a dismissive gesture with her hands from the interrogation room’s table, where they are handcuffed to the thick metal bar in the middle of it. She had appeared to become even more of a mess since you saw her last at yesterday’s interrogation, with darker bags under her eyes and frazzled, messy hair. “So if I’m as screwed as you say I am, then why are you still here? Come to gloat, have you?”

“You’re here because we want to offer you something,” Momo answers.

“You? Offer me something? Hah! Unless it’s a ticket that lets me walk out that door a free woman then I’m not interested. What could you possibly have to offer me?”

Momo leans back in her chair. She had predicted that Rose would react the way she did during your preparation for this meeting. It was almost as if she had written a script for it - and it was your turn to speak your lines.

“Revenge,” you state, leaning forward on the table.

“Revenge? The fuck do you mean by that?”

“Let me ask you, Rose: how do you think we knew you’d be at that event a few days ago?”

“I dunno. Fucking cops have probably been tailing me from the second I touched down,” she spits with a dirty look towards the one-way glass, even if you knew there was no one on the other side. Sakura had made sure this conversation was strictly off the record.

“Nope. It’s because we received a tip - from one of your friends in Blackpink.”

Rose is unable to hide her reaction, her eyes going wide with surprise.

“You’re fucking lying. Why the hell would they give me up like that?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” you answer. “Maybe you pissed one of them off. Maybe they decided they didn’t need you anymore, getting caught doing shit overseas while they did the real hard work here in Japan and Korea. I don’t care. But if you help us find them, then maybe we can make sure they’re just as fucked as you are. If you’re especially helpful, maybe we recommend a lighter sentence for you.”

“You want me to rat on them? Give up my team?”

“Yes,” Momo answers. “Remember - it’s because of them that you’re going to be behind bars for a very long time, while they’re out there free as can be, living the life. This is your chance to take them down with you.”

“You must have had a safehouse or a base of operations here in Japan,” you add. “Give us the location of that base and we’ll make sure we take them down, without them being any the wiser that it was you who gave up their location.”

Rose bites her lip, staring intently at her own hands as she weighs her admittedly small range of options.

“If I give them up, you get me a lighter sentence? That’s it?”

“That’s part of it,” you answer, as Momo retrieves mugshots of the two Red Velvet members and from her briefcase and places them on the table. “We’re also tracking two fugitives from Korea that you might have heard of - Kang Seulgi and Kim Yerim. Do you or anyone in Blackpink know anything about them?”

Rose takes a quick glance at both photos, but there is no hint of recognition in her eyes.

“No, I don’t know either of those two. If it’s Koreans you’re looking for you’d best speak to the others. All my work was done overseas, as illustrated by your giant pile of indisputable evidence.”

Momo gathers the mugshots before taking a pad of paper and a pen from her briefcase and places them in front of Rose.

“We need you to write down the location of Blackpink’s safehouse,” she states. 

Rose takes a last moment of thought before she reaches for the pen.

“I want your word that I’ll get a lighter sentence for this. And that they’ll never know it was me that gave them up.”

“You have it. We can’t guarantee that the judge will honor our request, but I promise you they’ll be aware of your cooperation,” Momo replies.

Rose scribbles an address down on the pad of paper before sliding it across the table to Momo. Momo takes out her phone and opens her map app to confirm its validity. Satisfied, she gives you a nod.

“You’ve made the right decision,” you tell Rose as you stand up and get ready to leave. Momo packs up her things and follows closely behind.

“Throw those bitches into a hole and let them rot,” Rose hisses as you leave the room.

In the outside hallway, Sakura, wearing a garishly pink hoodie now given that she’d torn the buttons off her uniform blouse earlier that afternoon, raises her head from her phone as she notices you and Momo have left the room. Giving Momo a polite, cheerful smile and shooting you a suggestive wink, she enters the interrogation room, presumably to return Rose to her cell.

Also waiting in the hallway, sitting on a bench, are Nayeon and a third woman, who begins to speak as soon as Sakura has closed the door to the interrogation room.

“Did she believe it? That it was Blackpink that gave her up?”

“Yes, you answer.”

“You got the location of their safehouse?”

“Yes.” 

“What about Seulgi and Yeri? Did she know where they are?”

“No. I’m sorry, Irene.”

There is a flash of something resembling sadness and disappointment in Irene’s features. It is short and fleeting, but unmistakable. Soon it is replaced with the look of quiet determination that she had worn since the moment she’d joined you in Japan.

She rises from her seat. The short leggings she was wearing did little to hide the bulky tracking device around her ankle, but at least now her hands were free of the handcuffs she had on the last time you saw her.

“Understood. Let’s go - we have work to do.”

---

Author’s Note: Not my best work, I know, but I just wanted to get across how wild (in a good way) Sakura was during sex and I found it kind of difficult to get across that she was good crazy but not insane lol. Not sure how well I did or how clear everything came across as I’d never written anyone quite like her with those kinks. I always want to try writing new things and improving my writing, though. Let me know what you think. :)

[japes-the-clown]

THE SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS MOVIE: AN INVERSION ON “COMING OF AGE” FILMS AND A CRITICISM OF ADULTHOOD

Hi hello hey it’s me Jericho Jay “Japes” Marshall out here with a pretentious love letter to the filmmaking on display in nickelodeons The Spongebob Movie. Yes, I know it’s a kids movie. Yes, I know it’s not that deep. But I’m majoring in english, and deeply depressed, so I need to get this OUT and onto a PAGE.

I have watched this film many times over my lifetime, a few when i was just a kid, then in my early teens, even when i turned eighteen, and now, a month before i turn 20. Every time, I grow a new appreciation for the nuances that this movie brings to the table, and on my most recent watch my own deliverance from childhood makes me relate to the core themes the hardest I ever have. The Spongebob Movie isn’t just a movie about childhood, but a movie about adulthood.

Today, I’m going to make clear exactly how The Spongebob Squarepants Movie criticizes our understanding of adulthood and how society treats the neurodivergent, while effectively turning the “Coming of Age” genre on its head, within its 87 minute runtime.

START: CONSISTENT CHARACTERIZATION

One thing a lot of films (ESPECIALLY kids films) fail to nail is consistently showing aspects of a character throughout the runtime, enough that changes to a character feel impactful and justified instead of rushed and stifled. The best examples of movies that fail to do this are often the marvel movies that people tend to not remember- the first two thor movies, the avengers age of ultron, etc. In these movies, characters certainly have traits, but their personalities and motives can be very weak and make dramatic changes feel A LOT less dramatic. This can be seen in age of ultron, when quicksilver gave his own life to save someone else, which felt like nothing because he wasn't well developed. He wasn't particularly endearing, nor did him sacrificing his life contradict a part of his character. It felt very much like the writers trying to say "Look, this character which was once opposing the avengers, is now dying for one. Please cry." No hate to the writers of Age of Ultron, but it proves itself often to be an unmemorable part of the catalogue.

In the Spongebob Movie, the characterization is ON. POINT. After the introduction, with the pirates rushing in to watch spongebob, we get so much information regarding spongebob as a character.

Pictured: Spongebob holding a piece of cheese like an operator

The first scene of the plot is a dream sequence a large crowded scene at the Krusty Krab, with a customer not receiving cheese on his patty, and it being positioned in the same way as a bomb being located. In the dream, everyone is panicked, and Mr. Krabs is visibly distressed, almost like a damsel. Spongebob comes in, announcing his position as manager, much to the relief of Krabs. He goes in, and puts cheese on the burger (again, very akin to a bomb defusal scene), bringing the perturbed customer out safe and sound. Everyone lifts spongebob up as a hero, which is interrupted by his boat alarm.

This scene is JAM PACKED with stuff that both introduces the character to new watchers and introduces the crux of his arc to everyone else. Spongebob of course is very fond of the Krusty Krab, and wants to be the manager- he wants people to see him as cool, and as a responsible adult. He wants to be the sort of person that can be trusted with big responsibilities. And we also see, most importantly, that he is extremely childish through his faximile of what it meant to be adult. Everything is scaled up; it's a very silly situation, which well suits both the joke and his character as an inexperienced kid. This is one of the most direct ways to convey someone's character, because a dream can be interpreted as a direct port into a character's desires. This being the first introduction to the character in the movie sets the tone for EVERY following situation.

In the next few scenes you see Spongebob's real life, which involves his lengthy morning routine; his life is sort of whimsical, and so too is his routine. He showers by shoving a hose into himself till he bursts with water, he uses toothpaste to clean his eyes but not his teeth, and he puts on pants which he must fold to make. Again, all pretty solid jokes, but also very telling about his outlook. He is funny, weird, and childish, which is juxtaposed by the scene where he's- he's uh- showering with squidward. Squidward is an example of the "adult" that spongebob isn't. This has always been the case, but here his normal routine makes it very clear that other people in this world aren't like spongebob. They shower normally, they brush their teeth, they put their clothes on like normal. Spongebob's world is one of wonder and without responsibility, which makes it questionable as to whether he could handle one.

Pictured: Spongebob's room, adorned with childhood imagery

Pictured: Spongebob celebrating his position as a manager, despite Krabs saying that it was squidward who got it

Even his room in this scene screams "kid". He has toys strewn about, glow in the dark stars, and pictures of superheroes on the wall. He even says "Sorry about this calendar" as he rips a page, personifying inanimate objects as a kid would. The movie is telling you, "THIS CHARACTER IS A KID", but in a way that's masked because it's also just a set up for jokes. It's done so well, in my opinion, that it would go over your head because from your perspective you would be laughing along as spongebob did his wacky antics.

On top of that, his excitement for his assured managerial position at the Krusty Krab 2 continues to be bolstered. He marked it off with a cute drawing on his calendar, for those familiar he changes his normal "I'm ready" chant to "I'm ready- promotion-", and he's even already set up a party to celebrate at his favorite chain, Goofy Goobers, a child's entertainment restaurant similar to chucky cheese, albeit replacing pizza for ice cream. He hasn't just gotten excited, but has this childish anticipation for something which isn't even assured.

Spongebob arrives at the opening of the Krusty Krab 2, where he is so excited he can't contain his glee. He breaks the silence and makes members of the crowd uncomfortable, reinforcing again that spongebob is a standout in a world of adults, and a kid who doesn't understand certain social norms, which society looks down upon. When Krabs reveals that Squidward got the managerial position, Spongebob hyped himself so much that he starts celebrating, not even noticing that he wasn't picked. He gets on stage, and begins to give a speech, to which Krabs interrupts.

The next part I think best illustrates Spongebob's clear ignorance to society: Krabs attempts to subtly tell spongebob that he isn't getting the job, but spongebob repeats everything he says into the microphone. Again, fantastic joke, grade A, but the amount this shows how invested spongebob was. He already saw himself as an adult, someone who everyone would look up to as a manager- he could take the responsibility, and isn't aware of everyone likely cringing in the audience. This is the natural step for him in his mind, especially because of his exemplary work which had been previously celebrated through employee of the month awards. This was not an option for him. There wasn't a world in his mind where he would be outclassed by squidward.

Krabs has to break to him that he lacks responsibility, and that his childishness makes it difficult for Krabs to give him such a job. This might seem harsh, but I think the intro again shows how Spongebob saw the job; he didn't understand what it would be like, fantasizing another level in the menial work structure to be an amazing adventure of a job. People in the crowd reaffirm that in the eyes of society, spongebob is just a kid, a goofball. In my eyes, this is a story not just of childhood, but of neurodivergence. Spongebob isn't normal, and is blocked by society for his ignorance of social norms and sunny disposition. He finds things fun that other people can not, and he places values in completely different things. So he is blocked from the meaningful recognition he desired, despite the obvious evidence of his commitment.

I think this is a mighty interesting dichotomy!!! Simultaneously, spongebob's understanding of the world truly is warped, often resulting in a lack of consideration for others as well as harm for himself when things don't go his way, AND he is a good worker which puts in MANY hours of work without so much of a complaint. This is COMPLEX. You have to ask yourself, as a viewer, "would I give spongebob the job?" The answer can be different and can be REASONED.

And that's JUST spongebob! There are other characters with characterization that mixes into the themes of the movie very well, but I'm going to bring up any related points in future sections.

Okay, Okay. So now you're saying "WOW OKAY GREAT so why does any of this matter?" I'm so glad you asked. VERY glad.

2: THE BREAKING OF A YOUNG MAN'S SPIRIT

THIS is the point of the movie. The obstacle in this movie truly isn't adulthood, but instead self doubt. Spongebob's whole world is turned upside down by Krab's rejection of his basic personality. Spongebob asks himself: is it REALLY okay to be who I am? Am I an adult? Is the world fair? One of the most shocking scenes in the movie is blended so well in tone with the rest that you don't really notice; spongebob eating ice cream to cope with his disappointment, akin to that of adults drinking alcohol, and appearing to be visually "drunk" and washed up. This is BRILLIANT, and a recurring theme, where the true line between adult and childhood becomes blurry and impossible to see. Spongebob, the representation of a kid, gets hungover, spiteful, and angry about the injustice of his situation. This is often how adults act in the fact of adversity, but what's funny is that this too is how a kid would act; getting angry and overindulging, feeling entitled and acting socially immature when he didn't get what he wanted. He walks in to the Krusty Krab literally just to shit talk Krabs. And it doesn't stop there.

Pictured: Plankton finding "Plan Z" and looking at it like a centerfold in a playboy magazine

Almost every character in this movie juxtaposes another, again smearing the line of what it means to be an adult. For example, Spongebob and Plankton are polar opposites; plankton is cold and vengeful, angry at the world around him, and spongebob is a happy person who tends not to take things personally, a friend to all. In planktons first appearances in the movie, he is portrayed with clear adult themes, mocking spongebob, making pinup jokes about plan z, and living in a fairly dark and grey space. But, as the story moves along, we see many similarities; both spongebob and plankton are fairly one track minded, and when spongebob's perception is broken he himself gets a little vengeful. When eugene is put in danger over this, though, we do see that he places the lives of others over his own wants. And, even at the end of the movie, we see their similarities. Plankton reuses the "Sorry Calendar" joke that spongebob used at the start of the movie, drawing another line of what it means to be an adult. Is it childish of plankton to say that? Is the inherent irony he has impactful here? His want for something that isn't his, and his disregard for others in pursuing it feels just like how a younger child may steal the toy of another, without understanding what it means to share.

Pictured: Neptune flipping his shit at his lost crown

Then, there's the character of Neptune. Neptune is a big man baby. He rules the entire land, commands the most respect, and is considered the most powerful person under the sea, and yet, we see that he gets overprotective of his property, prepared to execute anyone who even annoys him. Throughout the film, he's obsessed with chasing an image of youth, as he is bald, and ignores the suffering of the people on bikini bottom to make sure no one sees his bald head. He throws what's equivalent to a tantrum when he finds his crown is missing, and believes a very crude note written by plankton saying that it was eugene who stole it. His character is an "acceptable" child because he's in a position of power, where spongebob is an "unacceptable" child as he is just a working class member of society. And the funniest part is, that he mocks spongebob for wanting to go for the crown, when even he, the strongest person in bikini bottom, refuses to go out of fear.

We see that these "bastions" of adulthood, plankton and neptune, are the ones who are responsible for missteps of society; we're ALL children in the long run, but the strict enforcement of a perceived true adulthood creates a space where they can act immaturely yet those under them/around them cannot. Dennis makes this case even more, as the only thing he does in this movie is hurt others. There's only one thing that seems to truly denote adulthood, and it's cruelty.

Even squidward, the adult that is supposed to be more responsible that spongebob, refuses to go on the quest to retrieve the crown, as he acts mostly in self interest, even later claiming to only care that plankton was stealing the secret formula as it was hurting his own paycheck.

Spongebob is the only one willing to go, willing to defend the man who wronged him, willing to value life over his own interests. He is both child and adult, just as the adults are too children.

As he moves through the plot of this film, he becomes less confident in his disposition, with his naivete causing moments like him and patrick crossing the state line and immediately getting carjacked, or them being put into an uncomfortable situation by all the bubbles they blew when they tried to get their car back. His bright personality is questioned constantly: Only five days to shell city? BY CAR. This is man's country. But weren't we the double bubble blowing babies?

Pictured: Spongebob caught trying to take back the key to the patty wagon when patrick fails to distract everyone

This is made more obvious to him as patrick remains oblivious throughout; patrick is a mirror for him, that acts as a childhood constant, that makes it clearer for him every day the draws of his childishness. There's the moment in the club where patrick's distraction was poorly thought out, and only because he said he wanted to do it adamantly, there's the moment where patrick challenged neptune on how many days they would have to do it, which served no purpose but for his own fun, there's the moment patrick points out the free ice cream trap- he is the unemployed uncritical lens that spongebob is afraid he is.

So everything's fucked, and anyone who is childish is bad i guess!!!

But that isn't so,

3: The illusion of manhood

So we've talked about spongebob's characterization as a naive child, how this is impactful in his transformation into someone who is anxious about that aspect of his personality, and how the society around him is hypocritical in it's own immaturity. But where does this all come together?

Pictured: Planktons dystopian world, which Mindy shows Spongebob and Patrick

It's at spongebob and patricks "conversion to manhood". At his lowest point, spongebob becomes a squidward- he becomes critical of his AND patricks interests, and regards them as childish, deciding that this means that they can't make it to shell city, as it requires them to be adults. When mindy shows them the dire situation back home, she hopes that spongebob's sunny personality and care for others would shine through, but instead he turns to what society has been telling him; it's impossible. He can't do it, he's just a little kid, and there is no point to any of this as he'll fail regardless.

Thinking about it like this, it truly is one of the darkest points in the entire series; spongebob just openly admitted that there was nothing he could do, that all of his friends were goners because he was effectively useless.

Mindy comes up with an idea; she'll trick spongebob and patrick into believing they're men; she convinces them of mermaid magic (their innocence allowing them to believe) and uses kelp to make them think they've matured into adults. Notice that physical modifiers being the only key to this "fake adulthood". With this, they jump off a cliff because they believe that with adulthood, they are invincible.

This is really telling about how the society they're in thinks of being an adult, and relays that to children. There's another level, a distinct separation between spongebob and adulthood, which seemed like the difference between a squire and a knight- being an adult means that you aren't weak anymore (as though he was weak in the first place), and thus you can do things you never thought before. Is it truly healthy that this is how a society tells kids that adulthood is like, for them to enter the world and feel a truly awful financial and literal hellscape waiting for them? uh, you can, you can decide that for yourself i think.

Nonetheless, they survive the fall, and conclude that they really are invincible, able to power through a ravine with their happy go lucky attitude, eventually befriending the monsters which were once trying to kill them. They weren't acting like adults, but the labels themselves made it possible for them to soldier on with the childlike disposition they had. I find that to be powerful. If we were able to be more hopeful as adults, and power through the worst things brightly, could we do great things? Idk but these depression meds sure do taste good nom nom

After crossing the ravine, spongebob and patrick meet dennis, and have their worldview crushed as it's revealed that they are actually still kids. Dennis being the "alpha male" that he is, is characterized by violence and a lack of morality. The pair are saved by a giant boot, which is the first of two humans in this movie. Spongebob and patrick are both taken by the man in the diver suit, as we fade to black, marking the end of their illusion of adulthood.

4: Back from the Edge (of death)

Spongebob and Patrick awaken in an antique shop, realizing that they were surrounded by fish that had been killed specifically for sale as tacky antiques. They are lifted out of their fishbowl, and put under a heatlamp, as their fate is sealed to become a member among those dead fish. In spongebob's final moments, he mourns his inability to be an adult, as well as to reach shell city; but before they both die, patrick points out that they truly did reach shell city, as the crown was within their reach.

This. This is a phenomenal scene. Why? Because of what it means for spongebob's arc.

Pictured: Spongebob and Patrick on their deathbeds, finding happiness

He sees the crown, and realizes that, unequivocally, that even if he didn't bring the crown back, he made it to shell city. Every person he met told him that he couldn't even do that. and he did it. He is a kid, yes, but he's a kid who went where not even NEPTUNE dared go. Everything people said about him, about how him being a kid stopped him from success, was suddenly shattered. He has been asking himself if it's okay that he is a kid, and he saw, unambiguously, that it is. He is allowed to be happy. He can enjoy things that other people don't. He can be naive. He can be himself, no matter what anyone says. And so can you. Great things can be done by people who are "childish", who are "naive", who are kind without expecting a return, all of it. YOU are okay. Your stims are okay, your comfort series are okay, your interest in tropes are okay, YOU'RE OKAY!!!!

with that, spongebob and patrick are dehydrated on the table, and ostensibly die, the kids that they are, shedding one final tear each, forming a heart beneath them.

...

Miraculously, the tear electrocutes that lamp at it's socket, causing smoke to rise and set off the sprinklers, rehydrating the pair, and bringing them back to life. The "Man in the Suit" attempts to capture them, seeing them about to lift Neptune's crown, but the rest of the dehydrated fish come back to life- squirting him with his own glue and beating him to the ground, as spongebob and patrick run out with the crown. David Hasselhoff offers them a ride back to Bikini Bottom, and the pair begin their ride back.

5: The confrontation of Adulthood and Childhood

Pictured: Dennis looking all lame and shit

As spongebob and patrick are being swam back to bikini bottom, the boot under which dennis was crushed rockets to Hasselhoff, spitting him back out to finish the job. The appearance of Dennis, IN MY OPINION, makes him look rather goofy, with his broken glasses making him look more like a office worker than a badass assassin as he attempts to kill spongebob and patrick. Spongebob, in trying to reason with him, is able to ruin his eyes with bubbles, and then survives as dennis gets hit by a raised platform which spongebob and patrick are too low to be hit by.

Having defeated one representation of adulthood, spongebob and patrick are shot down by HasselHoffs MASSIVE MAN TITS with the crown in order to prevent Krab's fate, blocking Neptune's lazer just in time as they crash in.

All seems to be well, but plankton uses one of his mind control helmets (which we'll be getting into later) to enslave even Neptune, putting mindy, spongebob, patrick, and Krabs against the wall.

In another stark moment of characterization, Spongebob tells patrick that "Plankton Cheated", which prompts plankton to tell spongebob that the situation wasn't a kiddy game, and that it was the real world. This sort of distinctions in their ethos tell you how spongebob interacts with justice; he believes in "playing fair", while plankton is bitter and believes in getting what he wants.

Finally, the apex to our plot, is a musical number. Spongebob begins to make a long-winded speech, where he takes ownership of every label he was called as he stood on the stage at the beginning, the similarity between the two events being clear (holding a microphone at an inappropriate time, making a speech as he blocks out input from an adult trying to talk him down). Spongebob then busts out into the film's rendition of Twisted Sister's "I Wanna Rock", "I'm a Goofy Goober". This results in spongebob reversing plankton's whole plot with "the power of rock and roll". Plankton is made powerless, and thrown into a little padded cell.

The final scene in the movie has Mr. Krabs freed from his imprisonment in ice, and spongebob is offered squidwards position as manager of the second Krusty Krab. He seems hesitant, and squidward offers an insightful analysis of what spongebob might be feeling (the typical analysis of a coming of age movie, where the protagonist finds out that what they wanted all along is not what they wanted, but it was what was inside all along). Spongebob refutes that squidwards fly was just down, and GLADLY accepts the job.

AND THAT'S THE MOVIE

6: AN INVERSION ON THE COMING OF AGE GENRE

A coming of age story tends to be one which is focus on the growth of a character from childhood to adulthood, asking questions about what it means to be an adult. A character reaches for their perceived adulthood, and realizes what it means to ACTUALLY be an adult, typically juxtaposing what people think (drugs, parties, sex) versus what the movie postures as the correct adulthood (responsibility). In this, I think that the spongebob movie directly criticizes the position of what "an adult" is, in the sense of how someone acts.

Like we discussed in part 2, every adult character in this movie tends to be very childish in themselves, unable to see through simple ruses, and often very possessive of personal property. I don't think we actually see a child in this movie as a speaker at any point, only really as background characters (in goofy goobers to solidify spongebob as childish, and I believe in the chum bucket as they're lead to an unsafe place by their parents, who are supposed to be responsible). Thus, what is mostly examined is how adulthood and childhood is a very thin line. Squidward, for example, going directly to plankton to accuse him of stealing the formula, instead of taking it to the top immediately, which would have ended this whole thing fairly quickly; that was rather silly, and was the fruit of his need to assert himself as an adult.

Spongebob goes through this movie FIRST not caring much about whether or not he was an adult, and it is only after the social pressure from adults does he start to chase it. He then chases his perceived image of an adult, going on an adventure, and is crushed by the fact that he isn't an adult. Instead of finding what an adult is, he instead becomes comfortable with his existence as a child, finding himself at the end of the movie able to comfortably chase after an ideal again, where in a normal movie he would humbly reject the job he was offered.

This is, truly, what we should all take from this film. Spongebob realizes that people who aren't necessarily socially adjusted or acceptable can do great things, regardless of what the people around them say, especially because the people around them are liable to throw tantrums and be actively harmful to society. He is allowed to find comfort in childish things, and to be naive, because the world needs more people willing to help others. It's a scathing criticism on the imposed adulthood that exists in a lot of coming of age films, which begs us to drop fun in the interest of doing the right thing, as though those two ideas are contradictory.

BONUS: EXTRA STUFF THAT I LIKED

The goofy goober song became really good storytelling, at first marking childishness, then marking a level of discomfort and judgement in the club, then marking spongebob recognizing that his happiness came from what he liked and not some vague idea of adulthood, and finally marking his full acceptance of his childishness, taking the form of rock, the music of rebellion. It's not as subtle as leitmotifs, but it works really well in how the same song can give very different feelings throughout, and inform how we interact with a story.

There are a lot more examples of adults being pressured into childishness, with the connected twins who liked goofy goober at the club, who were beaten senseless for absolutely no reason, which highlights the way that the society hurts people that, by all means, are just as much adults as anyone else. There's of course Plankton's helmets which created a society of people who simply slaved away with nothing to say, taking life as it came and listening to authority.

On top of that, this movie is PRETTY ANTICAPITALIST AND ANTIMONARCHY, despite those things being allowed to continue to exist at the end- monarchy is seen misusing power constantly and often for unfounded reasons, and Spongebob's diligence at work is rejected by a penny pinching Krabs, who cares only about money. Like, THE KRUSTY KRABS ARE RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER? THAT IS SOME MONTY PYTHON ASS SHIT. This year is the first year i laughed at that joke, because it's really some "capitalists are fucking dumb as shit" humor that slipped over my head when i was a kid. The villain literally being defeated by Rock and Roll, which was sung with a message against the oppression of differences in people? Yeah, I think the spongebob movie hated rich mother fuckers.

END: UH YEAH THAT'S WHAT IT IS

So yeah. The movie is good I think. There's a lot more i could go into, but I've been writing this post for hours and at this point i haven't even read it so...

I recommend going back and giving this film a rewatch!!! Pay attention to all the moments where adults act like children/kids act like adults, because it'll make ur brain pop like a zit. Anyways that's me, I'm Jericho Jay "Japes" Marshall, and I HATE facism.

[thispabulum-blog]

Highs and Lows

What's the Tea? Tuesday

This week was largely uneventful, I hate to say. No real interesting new conversations or anything, just a few boring dudes.

I honestly have no memory of Sunday. Is it possible I just didn't do a fucking thing all day?

Monday I worked on my murder mystery some more while watching Swipe Right play some games, and then that night was when I stayed up too late and got slammed with Baymax-related sadness. I'm doing much better now, thank you for asking. The whole thing was exhausting, but I guess the good part is I don't have to spend energy holding out hope for that anymore.

Tuesday I got to hang out with friends and go do fun activities. Futuristic Korean restaurant, Central Market bakery overload, Bob the Drag Queen makeup tutorial videos, cat cuddles, late night Taco Bell.

Wednesday I ate cake in bed while watching Stranger Things and worked on some paintings that turned out pretty well. I've been doing a lot more art lately and it feels good. I like doing illustration but I feel bad just copying existing art and I don't have any original ideas, so I've started painting based on photos I've taken.

Thursday Cuddlebug came to pick me up, and for whatever reason I changed clothes like 6 times before he got there. This is a ridiculous habit.

The man owns 4 shirts and he thinks I look cute no matter what; I really do not need to try so hard.

On this week's "What did I forget to pack?" segment, we've got...a hairbrush. Could be worse, I suppose. Better than the week I forgot to pack flats.

We spent a pretty low-key night at home. After dark we took a walk around the neighborhood, which was actually nice and also allowed me to hatch some eggs in Pokemon Go.

Cuddlebug made us some delicious pasta for dinner, which we watched while we started Squid Game - neither of us had seen it, somehow.

Then when it was bedroom time we finally started Rick and Morty. Background: I had zero interest in the show when it came out, and at some point after maybe the first two seasons, Dr. Strangelove started bugging me to watch it with him. I was very clear that I did not want to. He made me watch the first episode anyway, and because I didn't want to, I didn't enjoy it at all. And I've just been negative on it ever since.

Recently, though, my friends have been recommending it. So this time around, I really liked it. I was surprised at the number of voice actors I recognized, which is nice.

Sidebar:

Old and Busted: When I had started going to counseling to try to work through some of my childhood stuff, Dr. Strangelove had persuaded me to start watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and he was really excited to watch this one particular episode that he said was hilarious. It was the end of season 1 (S1E7: Charlie Got Molested), an episode in which Mac is mad because everyone else got molested by a particular priest as a kid, and he didn't (because he was fat, I think?). Dr. Strangelove didn't understand why I didn't think it was funny.

New Hotness: Cuddlebug paused an episode of Rick and Morty (S1E5: Meeseeks and Destroy) before it started to warn me about a scene of attempted pedophilia - which was only like 2 minutes long and not played for laughs.

Friday was a busy day. We ran a couple errands early in the day, and then Cuddlebug went to work for a little while. But not before having this conversation:

Cuddlebug: "Do you want to ride around in the car with me for an hour while I do work stuff?"

Me: "God no."

*Later*

Cuddlebug: "You ready for a 5-hour drive to my mom's house in a month?"

Me: "Absolutely!"

Cuddlebug: "I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU!"

I'm an enigma, what can I say?

Once he got off work we had dinner with some friends at this diner he's been dying to try. It was pretty good! I got a burger that was slathered with horseradish and would have been better if it were not, but that's my own fault for ordering the burger/not asking them to leave it off. The restaurant was like 6 four-top tables, so it was basically like if someone hosted a pop-up diner in your living room.

The thing that made me the happiest was that one of the items on the menu was a club sandwich called the Hedberg.

This made my comedy-loving heart very happy.

After dinner we got to hang out and play board games, argue about how Cuddlebug is secretly racist and doesn't know how to use language, do some Switch Sports, and make a Kroger run for very necessary pie.

Cuddlebug: "Is the Sleepytime tea gonna knock me out or just make me a little sleepy?"

Friend: "It'll make you a little sleepy."

Me: "I guess it depends on your constitution."

Cuddlebug: "My CON is a solid 14."

Nerd.

Saturday he went to work and got to pick some of his 40k figurines [editor's note: "ummmmm actually, they're minis, not figurines" he says] up from the painter. I made dinner, but not before more arguing about where you're supposed to store produce.

Me: "Where did you put my onion?"

Cuddlebug: "In the fridge."

Me: "In the fridge???"

*one disagreement later*

Me: Where do you put tomatoes?

Cuddlebug: "In the fridge."

Me: "You're so weird."

Cuddlebug: "Most people put tomatoes in the fridge.

Me: "I -"

Cuddlebug: "Excuse me, most Americans put tomatoes in the fridge.

Me: "Then they're wrong!

Cuddlebug: "Then I'm wrong, but not weird.

Me: "You can be both!"

He keeps saying he wants to argue, so fuck it. It's on now.

That night after dinner we were watching Squid Game and I started falling asleep (at like...9 pm?) so we went to bed. And then woke up at around 12:45 am. Ugh. Cuddlebug also woke up, so we had some super cuddles and watched a couple episodes of Rick and Morty, after which he went to sleep and I stayed awake until 7:30 am. It was dumb. Sleeping is dumb.

Tomorrow I've got some interesting stuff to slow you...

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (31) || atz

“HAVANA-OHNANA-”

The five of you are walking along the streets, footsteps echoing on the cobbles as you take in the sights about you. It’s a bright and sunny day, with a stiff breeze keeping the temperature cool while you tour the town. You’re dressed lightly for the day, your hair done up in the pin Wooyoung had given you a while back to keep it out of your face.

But Jongho. What is Jongho doing?

Seonghwa sighs, turning to look at their maknae. “Well, he did get drunk yesterday after we told him I was staying with the crew and sobbed for a whole hour about how happy he was.”

“Let’s not forget how he danced around the ship trying to do a striptease to celebrate.” San mutters under his breath. You gulp at the thought and cover your eyes, as if that could change what your eyes have already seen.

You’re probably still traumatised.

“HALF OF MY HEART IS IN HAVANA-”

Yeosang stares worriedly after Jongho, who’s still dancing his way through the marketplace, belting out some song none of you have heard before at the top of his lungs.

“Is he still drunk?”

It’s funny how Captain actually let Jongho go into town with you and the others after the little fiasco yesterday. After returning to the Treasure on your little rowboat, Seonghwa had immediately explained to Captain and the rest about all that had happened. Hongjoong had simply listened quietly to Seonghwa, nodding in understanding when his cook had told him about how he had been tempted to stay in Nassau.

“It was understandable.” Hongjoong had shrugged.

But when Seonghwa had declared he was going to stay with the crew no matter what, you swore you had seen Hongjoong sigh a silent breath of relief under his breath, the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing.

The rest of the crew hadn’t been quite so reserved in showing their joy.

Yunho and Wooyoung, once again the life of the party, had snuck down into the storage hold and swiped an entire cask of aged fire rum, giving drinks out to the whole crew, much to Hongjoong’s horror.

And absolutely the entire ship had gotten dead drunk.

The last time when you had gone drinking with the ATEEZ crew, you had thought you had seen everything. From flirting with inanimate objects to burning down restaurant kitchens, it had been bad. Until you had seen this.

Two words.

Absolute. Pandemonium.

What happened had literally been the stuff of nightmares. Your master, soft spoken oddball Choi San, had only managed two glasses of alcohol before he had gone streaking across the main deck of the ship, dressed in a grass skirt of medicinal herbs which you had been forced to toss this morning due to hygiene purposes. You had managed to save his clothes from being lost to the unknown, but your sanity had been sacrificed in the process as you tried to drag him back to the sickbay all with your eyes firmly shut against the evils of the world.

Mingi. The silent, steady quartermaster was one depressed drunk. After a few minutes of cheering like a lunatic with the rest of the crew, he had suddenly stood up, walked over to the captain’s cabin and lay down on Yeosang’s bed, hugging a terribly ugly plushie that you assumed your master had sewn years ago, a yellow bean in blue suspenders and clearly missing an eye. To it he had sobbed his life story, which mainly involved how he had joined the Treasure and how he wished Hongjoong could have had a better life. You had chosen wisely to leave the cabin before the room flooded with his tears.

Only to run in Jongho, who was in the middle of the main deck attempting to do a striptease along to a tragic ballad he was singing at full volume, hyped on by the rest of the crew chanting along. You had gone already nearly gone blind trying to escort San back to the sickbay, but with Jongho, you weren’t quite as lucky.

For a moment, you had very nearly wanted to claw your own eyes out. Fortunately for you, you had been saved when Jongho had decided to do a swan dive over the side of the ship into the sea all while screaming something that sounded suspiciously like ‘yeet’, prompting the only other sober person besides you on board, Seonghwa, to jump into the frigid waters to rescue him.

And gods. Rational, gentle, innocent and sweet Yeosang had gotten drunk. And when he got drunk, he drank even more. And when he drank even more, boy did he let his mouth run. You never wanted to hear the words that he had used to describe his father leave his mouth ever, and in the morning when they had been slightly more sober than before, Hongjoong had threatened to wash his mouth out with rubbing alcohol if he ever heard them again.

Which was rather ironic, considering that Hongjoong himself had been Yeosang’s most ardent supporter and listener the night before, cursing his own father with all sorts of colourful and creative words that had nearly made your ears bleed. The two had sat in the bow with a bottle of fine, powerful whiskey between them, screaming all sorts of unrepeatable expletives into the dark of the ocean. You had carefully kept clear of the forecastle deck, but even from the main mast you could hear them shrieking words like ‘shitbag’ and ‘bastard can’t even aim a gun properly-’ over the howling of the wind.

You had chosen not to dwell too much on that. After all, you had bigger problems to deal with.

Yunho and Wooyoung had been attempting to swing around the masts. The three of you were rigging monkeys, so this was nothing unusual. The problem with that was that Yunho and Wooyoung were on the verge of getting into a fist fight on the yardams, and that scared you more than it should have.

Because the two of them were fighting over the mast.

“The main mast is the best mast of the three! She’s tall and gorgeous, with such a slim and sleek figure! What does your mast have?” Yunho screamed from above, clinging onto the main mast’s rigging like it was his one true love. You had wondered briefly who he was talking to, until a voice from the mizzen mast had shrieked back in response.

“The mizzen mast is made of the most exquisite conifer! I’d like to see your mast made of anything better!”

It was Wooyoung, the drunk idiot second only to Yunho.

The first time you had caught wind of their argument, you had briefly wondered if you were the drunk one instead, but then you remembered that you hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

“Guys,” You had tried to cajole them into coming down from their dangerously high perches, “The masts are just big sticks-”

From the horrified screeching above you, you would have thought you had just murdered their firstborn children.

“How dare you, Haechin!” Yunho had blubbered, sloshing alcohol everywhere from above and you had been forced to dive out of the way to avoid a shower of rum. Wooyoung had thrown his wooden mug at Yunho with all the fury of a professional thrower but without the aim, so his shot had gone far off. The piece of tableware had flown through the air and hit Jongho straight in the forehead when Seonghwa was trying to haul him back on board, so the maknae simply toppled back into the ocean, much to Seonghwa’s horror.

“Don’t you dare call Chon Ha’s name wrongly!” Wooyoung had screeched from the mizzen mast, dangling upside down from the ropes, failing to recognise the hypocrisy of his statement. “Names are important, Yun Hoe!”

“What did you just call me, Poo Young?”

You had merely stood at the main deck for a long moment, staring up at the masts as you wondered how on earth you were ever going to get them down, the two slinging insults at each other with all the maturity of a five year old child split between the two of them.

“They’re very passionate about this.” Seonghwa had appeared at your side with a limp, kicking Jongho slung over his shoulder. He watched as the two flung rude hand gestures at each other, occasionally forgetting that they needed their hands to hold on to the rigging and almost tumbling off the masts, but somehow managing to save themselves at the last moment. “That’s how the two of them started talking when Wooyoung first joined the ship.”

You had stared at the cook incredulously even as Jongho attempted to struggle out of the sackcloth Seonghwa had tied him up in to save what was left of his shredded dignity. “By talking about which mast is better?”

Seonghwa had shrugged in reply. “Every time they get drunk, they flirt with inanimate objects. Along the way, Wooyoung and Yunho just… fell in love with the mizzen mast and main mast, I guess.”

Maybe the maturity of a five year old split between the two of them had been a little too generous. You doubted they had more brain than Shiber even if you put their minds together.

“I once woke up to see Wooyoung getting it down the mizzen mast. And Yunho attempting to seduce the mast with terrible puns about… you know.” Seonghwa had mumbled, shaking his head as he massaged his temples. He had clearly seen terrible things, you could see the trauma of his experience on the lines of his handsome face. What a difficult life he has been through. “Well, anyway, I need to get Jongho below deck before he attempts to go skinny dipping in the sea again.”

Your eyes had widened in horror as Seonghwa hoisted a whining Jongho higher up his shoulder. “You can’t leave me alone with these two idiots! You’ve known them longer, you should know what to do!”

But Seonghwa merely waved over his shoulder, opening the hatch to below the decks and rolling Jongho’s body down the stairs.

“Look at the blue she dresses herself in! The beauty of her robes, she’s such a fine mast!” Yunho screamed above you, and for a moment you had been very tempted to just grab Mingi’s ax from the cabin and hack the entire mast down.

“You’re merely dressing a swine in pearls!” Wooyoung waved his fist back furiously, his face red from hanging upside down or from the alcohol, you didn’t know. “What matters most is the person within!”

“That would have been so much more touching if he hadn’t been talking about a mast.” You shook your head, completely exasperated. But Wooyoung and Yunho had obviously not forgotten about you, because they turned to you simultaneously.

“Haechin!”

“Choo Ha!”

Their voices echoed together. “Which mast is better?”

You had buried your face in your hands. This was actually a real conversation. These two grown adult men had just asked you which big wooden stick was better than the other.

You’d had enough.

“Neither.”

Yunho had slid down his rope precariously to stare at you in the eye seriously. Then he screamed “What?” so loud in your ears you were pretty sure one eardrum had just given up on you, the sound ringing in your ears. But you had forced yourself to keep your calm.

“The foremast is better.”

Now that you think back on it, you had probably broken them. The two of them had merely gaped at you in shock and horror, and Yunho had actually slipped from the ropes to land in a crumpled heap right next to you.

Sobs had burst out from the mizzen mast.

“How could you say such a cruel thing, Choo Hoo?”

That was probably why the two other rigging monkeys had refused to join your little excursion to Havana today. Neither Wooyoung nor Yunho had met your eye, probably still unable to accept by what you had told them.

It was either that or the roaring hangover both of them had.

Suddenly, a screech pierces the air, much like a dying ostrich and you clap your hands over your ears, eyes flitting around for the source of the noise. Yeosang, too, flinches, but manages to stay a lot more composed than you. He must be too used to the sound of cannon fire and Wooyoung’s shrieking laughter.

“What was that?” You gape, but then all you see is a fruit cart, overturned, and suddenly, it explodes into flames.

Yeosang dives at you, knocking you to the ground as bits of charred wood fall all about you. To your left, you see your master crouched behind another stall with his hands protecting his head. To your right, you see Mingi and Seonghwa ushering a small girl to safety and away from the explosion.

“What happened?” You ask as Yeosang crawls off you, brushing ash from the knees of his pants as the two of you rise to your feet. The navigator frowns, coughing from the sheer amount of smoke as he attempts to see where your battlemaster has gone.

“Where’s that dumb maknae?” San yelps from the ground, and you can see him clutching a small Shiber stuffed toy to his chest protectively. “I swear, if he got into some sort of shit-”

“Language, San!” Yeosang chides, but the tips of his ears turn pink in embarrassment at his hypocrisy. Then he catches sight of something, and his eyes widen in sheer horror. “What the fu-”

You clap a hand over his mouth before he can say anymore.

“-urry cute bunny.” Yeosang manages to save his mouth from a date with rubbing alcohol. “Is that Jongho? With my new explosive, highly dangerous smoke bombs?”

You almost choke in shock as you stare into the clearing smoke. Then you see it. Jongho, hooting madly with laughter as he raises another hand bomb in his hands. Yup, definitely still drunk. “Oh, fu-”

What has Jongho done?

Before you too have a date with rubbing alcohol, San spots the town law enforcement approaching, the sound of their boots thundering across the stone pavement. The healer looks at you determinedly. You glance at him, intending to convey your message to him. Your master has always understood you intuitively, much like how you and Wooyoung can communicate through touch alone.

We’ve got to get Jongho out of there before the officials spot him.

San nods seriously in agreement.

Then he opens his mouth and screams. “Abandon ship!”

With that, he shoots down a small lane and out of sight before you can say a word. To your horror, Mingi and Seonghwa bolt as well, as if this is a drill they’ve practiced thousands of times.

Your eyes widen. Those little shits...

You and Yeosang exchange grim looks. Neither of you want to do it, but you’ve been saddled with the responsibility. You’re going to murder San when you get back to ship.

“We need to save Jongho’s ass.”

“We do.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t make it any easier to do.

So this time when Yeosang swears rather colorfully, you don’t bother stopping him.

Yeosang takes your hand and yanks you with him as he grabs Jongho by the scruff of the neck. The surprised maknae barely has the time to react before Yeosang is dragging him down the street with you, deceptively strong for such a lithe person. The three of you duck into an alley, just as the officers dash past you, shouting for the offender to step forward and admit to his crimes.

“Let the world burn!” Jongho crows, attempting to toss the bomb to the ground. Yeosang struggles against him, trying to get him to let go of the bomb and simultaneously attempting to shut him up at the same time. Honestly, what on earth did Jongho drink last night? How was he still drunk even now?

Then the memory comes back to you.

This morning, Jongho had woken up with a hangover, like everyone else on the ship. He had come to you, looking for something to help with the headache, so you had suggested a common household remedy, a splash of gin with a tomato based drink to take the edge off.

Just a little gin, you remembered saying. When you had walked into the storage hold to clear up after the night before, you had seen an entire bottle of gin, empty and bone dry on the floor. At the moment, you had wondered if Jongho had drunk the whole bottle himself in the morning, but you waved it off, Jongho couldn’t be that stupid, and the empty bottle was probably just from last night.

Well, apparently Jongho was that stupid, because he had likely downed the entire bottle of hard liquor by himself in the morning and had gotten drunk all over again.

“I heard some noise coming from over here!”

You and Yeosang exchange glances and begin panicking simultaneously. Your eyes search the alleyway desperately for some means of escape, but all you see is a shop with grimy windows that are too dirty to see through…

And that is perfect.

You pull on Yeosang’s sleeve and tug him into the door, the tinkling of chimes signalling your arrival. The two of you barely manage to bundle the screeching human shape that is Jongho into the shop after you before you hear the guards run past the door. The three of you land in a tangled heap on the ground.

“We’ve got to catch those offenders!”

You groan in exasperation and feel tempted to slap your forehead, but you reach over and smack Jongho instead. The maknae yelps, but at least he drops the bomb into Yeosang’s outstretched palm before abruptly falling unconscious.

“I wish we could kill him.” You glare at his form. Today was supposed to be a relaxing day off, one in which all of you could relax together, and you and San had intended on visiting the herb garden markets for rare plants and the like. Now it seems as if you will have to wait until tomorrow to wait for the fuss to die down.

“How may I help the three of you?”

You jump in shock, scrambling backwards and almost knocking Yeosang over. He moves in front of you protectively, and from his sleeve you see the glint of something silver just in case.

But it’s just an old man standing there, with greying hair and eyes that seem to keep shifting colour. You frown. At one moment they seem to be blue, then brown, then grey, and in the end you give up on trying to decide exactly what shade they are. He must be the owner of this shop.

“Ah!” You and Yeosang exchange glances and your eyes flit around the shop, your foot shoving Jongho’s prone form behind you as you try to find a suitable excuse. “We were… ah… we were looking for a book.”

It’s a bookshop, after all.

“That’s nice to hear. You rarely get youngsters such as yourself who are interested in books.” The old man smiles warmly, and something in you feels like you want to stay with him somehow. He radiates a sense of comfort that you want to keep with you at all times. “Are the two of you married? He seems like a sweet boy.”

You spit and Yeosang chokes at the same time, you reach over to slap his back as he tries to recover from his coughing fit. “Thank you, sir.” Yeosang thumps his chest, heart racing beneath his skin at the man’s words. “But we’re just friends.”

“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow, and you frown again, wondering how his eyes can be such a unique shade that you cannot identify. “Then again, there are always more choices. Fate changes, you know, like a stream flowing down a mountain. It curves and winds, overcoming whatever is in its way. No path is definite.”

You cough awkwardly. “Yes, sir.”

As weird as this conversation is, you’d prefer him to ask you about this than Jongho’s body. Maybe the man is too senile to think otherwise about a dead drunk body on the floor.

“Anyway, I might have the book for you.” The old man moves about the shelves, searching for something, you don’t know. You glance about you, the shelves are made from tree roots grown into the wall, the books leaning against a wall of soil. Then you realise why the floor is so soft. It’s a carpet of soft green grass, well kept with tiny flowers blooming. Your eyes widen in wonder at the beauty of it all.

“Your shop is beautiful.” You gush, astounded at the effort that must have gone into creating and maintaining this shop. “You must have worked hard on it.”

The old man’s fingers still on the spine of a book. “Well… I have a… talent for these sort of things and I enjoy it… I suppose you could say I have a green thumb.”

With that, he pulls out a book from the shelves and offers it to you. “That’s a beautiful necklace, by the way.” He comments, gesturing to the silver chain hanging from your neck. You smile as you accept the book gratefully, Yeosang peeks over your shoulder at the cover.

“Thank you. I’ve had it with me for a long time.”

The Little Mermaid.

“Isn’t this a kid’s storybook?” Yeosang asks, studying the rendition of the mermaid drawn on the cover. The old man nods wisely.

“It is sometimes the simplest things that hold the most truth.” He says and you nod gratefully, reaching into your pocket to pay him for the book (and for harboring the three of you from guards). But he stops you. “Ah, don’t pay me. I have a feeling you might need that book. Have you ever heard of the saying, do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it? Although it may be a little different… in this case.”

You don’t really understand what he’s saying and shake your head, but take the book anyway. “Thank you very much, sir.”

Yeosang hoists one of Jongho’s arms over his shoulder and the three of you prepare to leave, but the old man calls out to you one last time.

“Chin Hae?”

“Hmm?” You turn around in response to your name. The old man smiles at you, and suddenly you feel something wet sliding down your cheek. It’s a tear, you realise in shock, and hurriedly wipe it away before he can see.

Why are you crying in front of an old man.

“That’s a beautiful name. I’m glad they chose it for you. Stay safe.”

You frown a little at the strangeness of his words, but you thank him anyway for the compliment and well wish. Then you and Yeosang are out of the shop, the chimes swaying as the door clicks shut. The old man stares after the three of you, watching through the window as you speak to Yeosang about the book.

“Chin Hae, huh?”

He glances around the shop. This is such a measly sight of what he can do, but you complimented it and called it beautiful. If only you could see the true beauty of it, like you’ve always wanted to.

“Maybe soon.” He murmurs to himself and snaps his fingers.

Suddenly, the old, aged trees shrink back into the wall of earth, the plants wilting and dying in mere seconds, the flowers falling to the earth and vanishing into the soil. The books, shelves, everything disappears in mere seconds, and suddenly, the old shopkeeper is standing in the empty alleyway all by himself.

Except he’s not an old man anymore.

The skin on his face stretches and smooths out once more, his skin darkening till it takes on an earthy brown tone. The colours in his eyes swirl together, twisting and mixing in a kaleidoscope of shades until it finally settles on one single hue.

A bright, unearthly green that no one else in the world can replicate.

[sweetwritertanya]

Nothing To Be Jealous About (Taehyung)

Summary: Your friend has a gallery exhibition for which you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, were invited. But once you see the painting you were looking for the most, Taehyung starts to act weird and you don’t understand why.

Warnings: soft SMUT by the end! This was going to be just a fluffy one, but I couldn’t control myself! Mainly, there will be: erotic body touching, fingering, just the tiniest bit of dirty talk but barely.

Word Count: 3208

Laughs and random chatter fill the large room as you and your boyfriend walk into the gallery. It was a bright space, with tall white walls and lot of artificial lighting even though the large glass windows provided more than enough natural sunshine. Your heart skipped at the sight of so many people already in, walking around and conversing amongst themselves as they appreciated the beautiful art exposed on the walls. It was a warm sunny morning and people were clothed in light fresh garments, between casual and formal wear for the occasion.

You were wearing a cool blue and white strapped knee-length dress with bishop sleeves down to your elbows, a pattern of reddish and pink pastel flowers overlaying the stripes, pink pastel heels to match it. The tie at the smallest part of your waist complimented your large figure and the warm weather was no invitation for you to bring a jacket. As much as you believed you put some thought into your outfit, your partner’s seemed a lot more fitting. Taehyung was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, made of a fresh material, painted as if a work of abstract art itself, with tones of blue, grey and brown. It was tucked into very well-fitted dark jeans that complimented his tall silhouette and shiny designer shoes. Dark wavy hair styled beautifully, you found yourself thinking that he was the one who deserved to be displayed in a museum somewhere.

Out of the two of you, at first you assumed you would be the one jumping with excitement and fidgeting in place due to nervousness, eager to see how your friend’s first art exposition would go. Turns out Taehyung seemed to be even more giddy than you were, particularly interested in seeing one particular piece of work from your friend’s catalogue.

“Where is it? Where is it?” he asks in an almost childish way, contradicting his deep tone of voice in your ear.

You smile and shake your head, taking hold of his arm and guiding him through the space as you talked, eyes out in search of the artist himself.

“C’mon, we need to find my friend first! We can’t just browse around without saying hi to him first and ask how the exposition is doing” you admonish, to which Taehyung pouts disappointed.

“There’s a bunch of people, it’s obviously going great, right? Can’t we just see him after?”

“Nope. And there he is, let’s go!”

After meeting with your friend and congratulating him on the apparent success of his art exposition, Taehyung’s impatience wins him over and he asks about the painting he has been dying to see. You roll you eyes and advise your friend to just lead the way before your boyfriend explodes with curiosity. The man laughs and gladly takes you to the wall where that particular piece was proudly exposed.

“Oh my God, Andre, it’s so beautiful!” You exclaim as you approach it, breathless at the beautiful colors and detail. “I had no idea it would turn out this good, well done!”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s one of my proudest works and the second most expensive of all the ones in this gallery” he informs, with a wink and moving eyebrows.

“No way, really!” you gasp, unbelieving. “The second most expensive?”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Thanks again.”

As you assure Andre that it was entirely welcome, nothing for him to be thankful for, one arm comes around your shoulders and Taehyung’s hand grasps your shoulder just a bit more tightly than it needed to be, staying unusually quiet, when this was the painting he had been so anxious to see.

“All good, Tae-Tae? What do you think? Isn’t it pretty?” you ask as you look up at him.

He smiles and agrees, nodding with his head, suddenly changing the conversation and asking if your friend could show his favorite piece’s around the gallery. You frown, knowing perfectly well how to distinguish Taehyung’s natural smile from his fake ones, and that was a fake smile if you ever saw one. He kept his arm around your shoulders all the way around the gallery, never getting more than a few inches away from your side, his steps always in sync with yours as you went. It was just the tiniest bit uncomfortable, but you let it go since you didn’t really understand what was going on.

Near the end of the improvised tour around, with just a few more works to show, Taehyung actually excuses himself claiming he had a work-related phone call to make. You found it just a bit weird since he never told you anything about that and warning bells ring around in your brain when he kisses your lips strongly before leaving the building, leaving you a bit dumbfounded next to your friend. He had never been one to display these kinds of affections before in public.

Embarrassed, you keep the goodbyes with Andre short and hurry out of the gallery room, searching for your boyfriend. He was already next to a cab, phone against ear until he sees you and hangs up soon before you come closer.

“Now, what was that about?” you demand to know as you stand next to him, eyebrows knitted together and lips tugging down in frustration.

“Got us a ride, baby. What do you say we go out for lunch? At that place you’ve been wanting to go?” he suggests, ignoring your question and confused stare.

“You have practice this afternoon, it would take too long. And don’t ignore me!”

“Oh, right… How about we just go home and order something delicious, hum? My treat!” he smiles, this time a more truthful smile that shows his gums and reaches his rounded eyes.

Before you can answer it, he guides you to the backseat of the taxi and kisses your cheek before going around and entering, giving the driver the address to his house. You sigh in defeat and go along with it, Tae stretching his arm again around your shoulders once again, pulling you both more to the middle of the back seat than to each other’s sides. And yet he keeps looking out the window, a bit of tension in his sharp jawline.

Once he opened the door to his modern house, in which you got dressed this morning and gathered quite a volume of your wardrobe in his closet rather than yours back at the apartment, you took off your heels while he slipped out of his shoes quickly and tapped on his phone, asking you about what you wanted to eat. In the time it took for you to put on your slippers, place your heels in the proper place and meet him in the kitchen, it was decided to order sushi from a delicious restaurant you had eaten at before.

“It says they’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. I’ll get the table ready” he offers, something you usually had to ask of him.

Placing a hand on his arm, you stop him from reaching for the cupboard where he kept the plates. Your hands travel down the soft fabric of his shirt over his arms and enclose his hands in yours, interlacing his long fingers with your chubby ones. You lean in and peer at his hesitant eyes with nothing but love and worry.

“Tae, what’s wrong? You were fine this morning but now you’re acting weird. What happened?”

The boy closes his eyes and exhales a deep breath, changing his stance and leaning with his waist against the lower cupboard, fingers wrapping sturdily with yours as if to give him courage. He presses his wide lips together so tightly they almost disappear, those broad and expressive eyebrows knitting together.

“You didn’t tell me it was a nude” he murmurs in a deep voice, a bit of frustration coming through the barely annunciated words.

“What?” You had a hard time understanding what he was saying.

“The painting! You never said you were going to pose for your friend naked!” he finally yells, anger and bitterness released from the mask of indifference he had been wearing.

It all seems so clear now, you actually wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner.

“Tae-Tae, it was just of my back! I was wearing pants under the sheet and my chest was covered the whole time” you assured, trying to put any doubt he may have had to rest. “And I told you about it the same day he asked me to model for him. Remember? How I said he would be very professional and if I felt too uncomfortable, I would just give up? You were the one who convinced me to go ahead and do it!”

“Well, I must have not heard the part where you said it was a nude painting!” he defended, huffing through his enlarges nostrils.

“It was not a nude! Again, I was wearing clothes, he just painted it to seem like I wasn’t it” you reinforce.

“Your back was bare for him to see for days while he was painting. I’m not sure I’m okay with another man seeing you like that” he pressed, eyes set on the ground.

“It only took him three days and what do you mean ‘seeing you like that’? You can’t possibly be jealous, right? Of Andre?” you question, baffled by his reactions.

“How couldn’t I? The bastard likes your painting so much he marks it as the second most expensive on his catalogue! The way he keeps smiling at you, and winking at you, in no time he will be asking for a full body nude and I am not okay with that!”

You can’t help it, you actually chuckle at that, the notion being so ridiculous in your mind that it only originated disbelieving giggles. Even the serious not-amused look Taehyung gives you doesn’t stop your smile, even if it does keep you from laughing further. You clear your throat, step closer to him and squeeze at his hands, still tangled in yours, until he looks back at you.

“You have nothing to be jealous about. Andre is very happily and very seriously engaged. And may I add, he is engaged to a very beautiful, exotic and thin lady, so I am quite sure I am not his style.” You enlighten, shrugging your shoulders. “Did you notice? I think he even got rid of one or two of my back rolls in that painting. So, can you really say that is a painting of me when he changed it a bit?”

You see those big coffee-colored eyes blink a few times, long eyelashes making them stand out so much, first in surprise and then in embarrassment, resorting to pulling you closer into a hug where he can hide his face in your shoulder.

“Nonsense. That was your back, I have it memorized by heart.” He whispers against your hair, arms wrapped around your middle and holding you close against his chest.

You smile and throw your arms across his back, hands resting at his shoulder blades, head leaning and resting against his.

“By heart, you say?”

“Hum” is all the response you get, feeling the man’s smile against the skin of your neck as he starts leaving a trace of pecks all around.

You close your eyes and crook your neck to the side for better access, a familiar heat filling you from head to toes with his affections. Taehyung has always been one to shower you with attention and love, that feeling of being genuinely appreciated never failing to amaze you. Your lips part and you let out a sigh, an odd flutter in your stomach making you search for his mouth with yours.

As you move your head to encounter his, lips meet and your head spins at the lovely feeling of his hands exploring your skin over your clothes, embers crackling silently bellow his touch. A thrill runs up your spine and something in your belly churns as his lips engage fervently with yours, soon his tongue darting out just enough to dance with yours, and you taste honeyed spice.

The body gives in to his touch and caresses without even asking for you permission, your tubby frame leaning into his slender one as your knees rattle. The hands that were so innocently brushing your back had turned greedy and naughty, Taehyung’s big hands descending down to your squishy hips and cupping your succulent ass, adoring the way he could barely hold on to all of the well-padded curves.

Kiss growing hungrier, he moves his head to the other side and deepens the kiss, mouth ravishing on yours sensuously, the vertigo feeling taking over your brain and you have to hold on to his sides in order to not fall. But he has you powerfully in his hands, darting now to your luscious thighs, digits sinking in to the dimples in the flesh and squeezing it before soothing it with smooth strokes.

Suddenly, Taehyung turns you both around so that you are the one leaning against the lower cupboard, hands grasping at the top to keep you steady at the abrupt change, while he presses his body close to yours and dips his head into your neck again, determined to taint the skin there.

“I have all of you memorized by heart, love. All this heavenly body of yours, made for me and only me to appreciate. Better than any poor attempt of portraying it” he assures.

Your breathing is more than erratic now, fervent blood rushing to your puffy cheeks, waves of arousal pouring down your spine. Those hands that have proved time and time again to be both your curse and your salvation are finding their way into your inner thighs and there is no denying how stirred you were. The itch that had formed between your legs was becoming more and more uncontrollable, the stain on your lace panties a clear indication of that.

The index finger pulls the fabric to the side while the middle finger dives between your swollen folds, immediately drenched in the gathering of your juices. Taehyung hisses at your ear and then grunts, teeth catching your earlobe before whispering in a low erotic voice.

“So wet for me, already, darling? You know I can’t control myself when you get like this.”

“A-and you k-know… I always get like this when it’s you, Tae” you counter back, shamefully aware of how little could get you going when it came to this man right here, with one hand under your dress, between your legs, and another crawling up your body.

“A match made in heaven” he sniggers, finding your lips again.

You whimper into his mouth when his hand cups your breast, thumb moving up and down the fabric just above where he knew was your hardening nipple, making your body shudder at the stings of pleasure shooting to your core. The digits placed at your womanhood start moving too, middle and ring finger sliding back and forth on the silky center, mercilessly teasing your throbbing hole and rapidly finding your puckered pearl.

Impatient, Taehyung pulls the neckline of your dress down your tits, immediately doing the same to the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts to him. His head dives in, mouth wrapping around one nipple and suckling on it until he hears you scream out, his free hand tweaking and twisting the other one before he switched places. In the meantime, his digits frustratingly start slipping in and out of your hole, just in little thrusts that don’t dive all the way in, while his thumb draws circles around your clit slowly driving you insane.

“Taaeee….! Please!” you plead in a whimper, moisture starting to slide down your legs and an excruciating tightness in your abdominal area demanding satisfaction.

Your hands are fisting at the fabric of his shirt on top of his biceps and you have half a mind to worry about ripping it, knowing the shirt was expensive as all hell. But at this rhythm you would pop off every single button of his shirt, rip his pants out and ride him until the next century in order to find your release.

Sensing your urgency, Taehyung smiles with one nipple still in his mouth and finally, finally entered his two long fingers inside your tight hole, sliding them in to the knuckles and providing the most heavenly stretch as he scissors them inside, your walls clinging to him like a vice. Your face scrunches up in pure delectation, the subsiding movement that follows dragging moans from the depth of your soul as you claw this man’s arms and threw you head back with eyes closed.

He twists his wrist and in a nice pace starts plunging his fingers in and out, the pad of his digits rubbing deliciously against your walls and curling just at the right place inside, effortlessly reaching for that spot inside that strikes your whole body with an overpowering current of pleasure. You were already so close to the edge, so eager to jump, and when his thumb starts jiggling your fleshy button in little circles, at the same time he speeds up his fingers, rather than jumping you are pushed into your edge and explode into a blinding infinity, crying out Taehyung’s name and body convulsing, your pliant inner muscles fluttering in hyper-sensitivity around his still moving fingers.

Toes curled and body contorted, your slowly breathe with relief at the waves of pleasure slowly undulating through your body, your body slowly but surely coming down its high and your eyes capable of opening and not just seeing dots of white and gold. Instead you see this magnificent man standing proudly in front of you, hand removed from your core and cleaning his dripping fingers with his mouth, the other hand rearranging your clothes back in place, pulling the cups of your bra back up as well as the neckline of your dress.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get that” he says, and you are still a little bit too numb to really understand.

“What?” you say, confusion mixing with your post-orgasmic serenity.

As if answering your question, you realize the doorbell is ringing, meaning someone is at the door. Taehyung shrugs and locks down at himself. Following his eyes, you realize that on the front of his tight black pants, there is a clear outline of his very erect cock, almost bursting out of the fabric.

“Can’t answer the door like this. Here, have my card and pay for the meal.” He takes his wallet from his back pocket and hands you his card. You nod and make way for the door, but he grabs you by the elbow just enough to whisper lowly in your ear, creating goosebumps at the back of your neck. “And hurry, we don’t have much time before I have to leave for practice.”

And you know he wasn’t referring to the amount of time he had left to lunch with you. Paying the delivery man, you find yourself thinking how convenient it was you ordered sushi, for any other dish would have grown cold by the time you two were done.

[pedropascallovebot]

Let's Kill Tonight

summary: You're a bit out of practice, but being entrusted with the retrieval and return of Helmut Zemo shouldn't be too hard, right? Even if he is your old sorta-boss and you still are nursing unfortunate loyalty towards the team. You can manage. And him being... slightly more attractive than how you last left him won't be a problem.

Right?

warnings and a/n: i have.... no clue what this is if not a complete rewrite of mcu canon purely for self-indulgence. reader has a kinda shady past and in result will talk graphically about violence in later chapters and there's lots of gun action in this one. very fun, very cool! alright. i hope y'all enjoy teehee

—

The weather where you're at doesn’t usually vary much from a sunny sky, but alas, you’re absolutely drenched by the time you step inside the diner. You hadn’t expected the rain. Your usual five minute walk to work turned into a hike through muddy sidewalks and water droplets that kept hitting your eyes, and by the time you tied your apron around your waist the day felt over before it even started. Your boss gives you a closed-lip smile and glances at your empty section of tables, and you just know you’re going to be late on rent again.

For what it’s worth, Lüleburgaz isn’t the worst place to slip under the radar. It’s not underpopulated by any means, but it makes it perfect to blend in with the crowd as best you can. Honestly, you're just trying to make it a day without a proper therapist. Your roommates are great listeners, don't get it twisted- but all they really know about you is you're Sokovian and they don't really need to hear about the stuff that happened before your country was crushed by some guys in tights and iron suits. They don't ask you much, and you're grateful.  After an unfortunate five-year gap in employment (which isn’t your fault- it’s kinda hard to find jobs when you’re reduced to dust unexpectedly) you were lucky to find somewhere that was willing to hire you without a legally issued identification card and that was also willing to pay in cash under the table. You broke out the books and attempted to learn the language as best as you can, and while you're struggling a bit, you can at least understand the menu and what a customer is ordering. It was far from ideal- ideal would be completely erasing any trace of memory regarding you and your… history, so to speak, from anybody who has the potential to be a threat to you. Ideal could also be an island somewhere, maybe Praslin or Nassau, where you could swim in clear waters and drink copious amounts of fancy fruity drinks instead of whatever liquor your roomies had hiding under the counter. But until that happens, being on the sorta-run for some questionable past career choices seems to stick.

Said questionable career choices led you to be introduced to a network of interesting people, some less horrible than others, but all of them carried the same unmistakable signal of danger displayed in flashing lights above their heads. When you hear the bell to the restaurant door jingle, signaling the arrival of someone new, that weird gut feeling activates and your eyes flicker up to see a pair of high heels and sunglasses, even though the sun hasn’t been out all day. Everyone else eating their food don’t even spare a glance to the door. This should comfort you, it should tell you that you're fine and that there's nothing to worry about, but it absolutely doesn’t and suddenly you’re inconspicuously making your way to the back, muttering something to your boss about taking your break early. Ripping off your apron, you throw it to the side and let it land on the ground next to you, and you lean your head against the brick wall behind you. Your fingers are twitching as the pressing issue of impending doom continues to rise in your gut. You barely register the creaking sound of the back gate opening.

“Do you want a cigarette?” Suddenly, you’re in fighting stance as an unfamiliar voice speaks less than a foot away from your ear. You don’t recognize this new face, but she looks expensive and entirely too out of place for a diner that receives in its eggs already prepared and frozen.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” she continues, and fishes a lighter and pack out of her coat pocket. “Good choice. These things will kill you- and so will this godawful food you serve here. What a relief that after today you won’t step foot in this place ever again, huh?”

Your mouth opens to say something, but you decide against it. Instead, you slightly lower your fists, keeping your eyes trained on her seemingly unbothered expression. She takes a long drag of her cigarette before giving you any more information. The silence is deafening, and you mentally take note of the clear path you have through the open fence and towards the street if you chose to run. Something tells you this lady didn’t arrive here on foot though, and she probably had an expensive vehicle waiting out front waiting to catch up to you if you chose to make a break for it.

“You’re jumpy- probably a little bit out of practice from the whole ex-assassin thing, right? I can work with that. I have to applaud you: as far as hide and seek spots go, this wasn’t horrible. We’ll have to improve your people skills, but-“

“Who are you?”

You grow increasingly frustrated as it starts to sprinkle again, leaving you cold and wet as your company opens an umbrella she had previously stored away in her coat.

“I don’t like being interrupted, so let’s not make it a habit, hm? My name is Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, and you’ve become annoyingly important to my cause. Come on, we’re leaving.”

She begins to walk towards the gate, but you stay put, beginning to toy with the idea of unsheathing the knife stored in your boot.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, lady.”

This makes her turn around and sigh in frustration.

“The way I see it, you have two choices. Go back and finish bussing tables so you can make an extra couple dollars, or come with me so we can talk real business. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one between the two of us that poses a threat. I’m not the one with weapons hidden in my clothes, am I?”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t argue. Instead, you hesitantly join her in her path towards a gaudy car (you knew it) that looks way too out of place to be in this parking lot. For a split second you consider going back and giving your manager somewhat of a notice of your absence, but Valentina’s walking so fast that you don’t really have time to continue considering.

“By the way, I distinctively said my name is Valentina Allegra de Fontaine- I don’t like to repeat myself, don’t make me do it again.”

-

You barely have time to sit down before Valentina is barking directions at her driver and scolding you for getting rain water in her backseat. You remain silent, and a little bit uncomfortable as Val finishes her cigarette completely before bothering to inform you of whatever the hell she’s got going on.

“Tell me what you know about super soldiers,” she finally gives, crossing her legs and glances at you expectantly.

You search her face for any kind of indication that she’s kidding, but she seems serious. It kinda feels like your soul is being stared into and you want to look away but you can’t. What does she not know about super soldiers that she can learn from you and not from literally anywhere else? Admittedly, all you know is what clips of newspapers would give you. Something about rogue experimentation, something-something Winter Soldier, and then, most recently, the Flag-Smashers and the rumors flying around that they've got some serum floating around. All of this seemed to be public knowledge though. Nothing a woman who’s willing to corner people in the backlots of their jobs couldn’t find out from a simple Google search.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“I can’t say I know much.”

For what feels like the millionth time in the span of twenty minutes, she sighs, bringing out her cell phone and starts punching some buttons.

“And what about this man? Does he ring a bell?”

You do your absolute best to not look as tense as you feel when out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face in a tiny, grainy picture. She shoves the device in your hands, and right there center of the screen is-

“Zemo, right? That was a trick question. Hard to forget the face of your old boss, I’d assume.”

Suddenly, you’re upright in your seat, the earlier feeling of danger settling right back into place. Valentina, of course, just lets out a laugh, while you’re planning on swan-diving out the damn window.

“The Colonel isn’t my boss,” you protest, and a burning sensation makes its way to your throat.

“Isn’t he though?” Valentina is now fully turned towards you, her hand reaching to grab the phone back. More buttons are pressed, and she’s reading your name from an official looking online database. “It says here you’re wanted in a lot of countries, huh? I wonder why that is- oh, look at this, would you? Seems like your name and EKO Scorpion are mentioned in the same sentence at least three times just on this page.”

Your eyes narrow, and you waste no more time in grabbing your gun from your coat pocket, and Valentina seems to have the same idea, the phone  in her hands is now replaced with a much newer and nicer pistol than you’re carrying. It’s silent in the car for a few seconds, and the driver in the front dares not move a muscle. Val is the first to break, and she lowers her weapon with a shit-eating grin you’re growing tired of seeing.

“Let’s start over. You’re associated with an elite death squad assigned to defend the interests of a country that’s no more than a pile of rubble and dead memorial flowers on the ground. You never had an official invitation, but they paid you good enough money for you to get your hands dirty for them. Too bad that without a leader, your little syndicate fell apart, didn’t it? Unfortunate, what happened to him really. And how inconvenient it must have been for you- I’m sure the law doesn’t usually side with individuals associated with terrorists. Luckily for you, you had a five-year break from being on the run.”

The urge to fall back into old form and pull the trigger at the slightest sign of trouble starts to rear its ugly head, but you take a deep breath and try to align your focus to your current situation. This doesn’t have to be deadly. She knows your history, she knows your name. She could just be blackmailing you. Easy fix, offer her better information on individuals that are far, far away from you. You’re sure you can think of something juicy enough to entertain her and fray her interest in you. This doesn’t have to end in a gunshot. She has access to all of the shit you’ve done. You don’t know what she knows. She could be from the American government. Kill her, and lessen the risk of being thrown in a prison cell to rot.You’re desperate, and you’re scared, and it’s making you vulnerable. You take another deep breath in, and lower your gun.

“What do you want?” Valentina falls back into her seat, clearly very amused by the entire situation now that guns weren’t drawn.

“The Flag-Smashers are becoming increasingly difficult as they’re forming alliances with seemingly every gang of mercenaries for hire. The serum belongs in the hands of someone who knows what to do with it, don’t you think?”

This lady is clearly out of her mind, but you’re too far in now and you don’t feel like questioning her on her morals or the ethics of this situation.

“I don’t want any business with Morganthau, and I don’t care about super soldiers. If that’s all you need me for, you might as well find someone else.”

“Who said anything about you dealing with Flag-Smashers? No, for you,” she starts, grabbing the phone once more and resuming that annoying clicking as she searches through various links, “I have a slightly less… hazardous task. No killing involved, sadly. I’m sure your lovely skillset will keep until it’s needed, but you will be finding Zemo for me, where I can pay him far too much money so he’ll kill the Flag-Smashers for me.”

It’s your turn to laugh, now. “In case you haven’t heard, Helmut Zemo is rotting away in prison for the rest of his life. How is he going to be of any help to you?”

Valentina doesn’t bother giving you a verbal response, just shoves that damn phone in your face again. You glare at her before your eyes skim over the article. Breakout. Zemo. The Falcon. Prison. You curse internally, and she lets her arm fall back to her side. You realize you haven’t been paying too much attention to where the driver was taking you both until you feel the vehicle holt to a stop, and you look up to realize you’re in a parking garage, and the faint sounds of airplanes fly overhead.

“As of now, you and I are a two-man team, but this won’t be the case for long. Zemo is with Sam Wilson and James Barnes in a safehouse in Riga. You and I aren’t the only ones looking for him, however, which makes your job a little tricky, but I don’t have much faith in the guy assigned in returning him to Berlin.”

“Who is he?”

“I assume the name John Walker doesn’t need an explanation?”

You shake your head.

“Walker can be of use to us, and we’re gonna need him- just not yet. What I need from you at the current moment is to make sure you get to these coordinates,” the driver is suddenly handing you a slip of paper with numbers scribbled on it, and you take it, “before Walker gets Zemo.”

You inhale, and Valentina gives you a look.

“I assume you have a question?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to get Walker on your side sooner? Maybe if you could say the right thing, persuade him to bring Zemo to us-"

Valentina cuts you off with a scoff. “What? That if we tell Captain America to hand over an international prisoner so we can extract information and hire him to kill for us he’ll do it? Walker wants one thing right now: he wants that serum. Coincidentally, your friend Zemo wants that serum gone. IF we get to him first, which you will, he’ll be more than happy to oblige. Walker is at a tipping point, but he’s not useful to us. Yet. We just have to wait until he's vulnerable.”

She takes your silence as an okay to continue. “Get to Latvia, find Zemo. Use that pretty face of yours to charm him into coming with you, maybe share some war stories around the campfire. I don’t give a damn how you get it done. Walker’s already halfway there by now.”

You are really starting to question how Valentina is getting her information, but before you can say anything else, she’s motioning for her driver to slide another piece of paper in your hand. Your eyes go wide at the numbers listed after a dollar sign.

“I assume this would be enough to cover your services?”

You look up at her, nodding your head slightly.

“Half now, half when you bring him to me,” she finishes, and the driver is unlocking your side of the car. “It looks like we’re in business then.”