#this time some sunken ruins of san francisco

[hzdtrees]

Sight-sea-ing, pt. 1

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Jason is ruining me this season because despite all the bad shit he’s done I just want to hug him & let him know he is wanted 😫

Okay but like what if Crane actually just left Jason at Snowy Cones tied to the chair and the Titans get him back or something like that somehow they get him away from Crane & back and there’s a fight about what to do with him (mainly Gar & reader fighting to like at least get him clean before doing anything else) and idk just something soft with Jason detoxing and reader helping him and showing him people do care about him 🥺

THIS 😭

➣ pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

➣ fluff / angst

➣ word count: 1.2k

come join the titans sleepover!

Jason looked horrible.

You hadn't seen him since he left San Francisco with Rose, and though that was months ago, you hadn't stop thinking about him. You were mad, to say the least, but all of that was pushed aside when you heard the devastating news about him, one that almost broke you.

Redhood was the worst thing to become of Jason. You felt helpless and so aggravated that he was doing such things, but at the same time, you knew it was not his fault. It was Crane's, and everyone knew it too.

Tonight's mission was to take down Crane and 'Redhood's' mission to distribute the anti-fear drug, putting all your energy into fighting the guards. Perhaps it was your anger towards Jason that got you through. He had become the person that he solemnly swore he'd never become. But here he is.

But as your nearly teary eyes gaze sullenly at his sunken face, which is wet with drool and god knows what else, you know the right thing to do.

"Jesus Christ," Gar mumbles as he stands beside you, looking at the mess of a boy Crane left behind.

"We need to get him out of here," you glance over at him. He nods in agreement, unable to peel his eyes away.

"Tell me what we need to do,"

"Guys, stop." Dick cautions, putting his hands on either of your shoulders. Gar and you look at each other before glancing back at Dick. "It could be a trap."

"We can't just leave him here!" You shriek in disbelief.

"We don't know what Crane has up his sleeve right now. The best thing for us to do is to leave him here."

"Absolutely fucking not," Gar grits his teeth, knuckles almost clenching in a fist. "He's coming with us."

Jason coughs himself awake, eyes rolling as he slips in and out of consciousness. You crouch beside him, taking his hand in yours.

"Jason, can you hear me?" You ask softly, ignoring Dick's sigh of discontentment from behind you. Jason groans, eyes slowly dragging up to meet yours.

"[y/n]," he slurs with a raspy voice. You gulp and pull yourself together, knowing that now is not the time to have a breakdown.

"Yes, darling, it's me. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"Hey, buddy, you doing alright?" Gar kneels on the other side of him. You run out to the car, only to return with a wet cloth and further bickering from Gar and Dick.

"We're at least cleaning him up," you snarl at him before crouching beside Jason. In your head, you count to ten, trying to find anything to distract your eyes from pricking with tears. God, he really does look awful up close. You dab his chin, wiping off the drool that drips from the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, what is going here?" Kory asks with Conner and Blackfire behind her. She stops in her tracks when she notices you and Gar, tending to Jason with such care, a sense of fear runs over her.

"I'm trying to warn them, but they're not listening," Dick murmurs to her.

"Guys, no, stop it. We need to go," she tries and pulls you away from Jason.

"Get off of me!" You almost yell, swatting her away before putting the cloth down. You move behind him and help Gar untie the rope from around Jason's waist.

"Stop and think for a second!" Kory snaps. "He could be a weapon; you don't know that."

"Yeah, and you don't either," your voice slick with venom. You were so sick of everyone blaming Jason for everything when none of them even remotely believed that they had something to do with his meltdown. "We are getting him out of here. End of story."

"[y/n]…" Dick sighs, approaching you and Gar slowly.

"No, enough. I've had it with all of you giving up on Jason like he's some piece of disposable waste. What was your speech a year ago about not giving up on family? You really seem to live up to that, now, don't you," Gar snaps.

"I-"Dick sighs again. "I know, okay. But as I said before, we all know he's working under the guise of Crane. We don't know if Jason is just a ploy, okay? It's safer—"

"For who? You or Jason? Because from the way I see it, Jason is being manipulated. You said it yourself. The best thing we can do is save him now before it's really too late," you sigh. "Now, can we please stop fighting and help him into the car, for fucks sake," you roll your eyes, having enough of this bickering. The sooner you all get out, the better.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Barbara helps you hook Jason up to an IV drip. He lays in his bed, so entirely out of it, you're not even sure if he's ever going to be okay again.

"Are you okay?" Babs consoles, knowing that this has certainly not easy for you. She knew you have been taking this the hardest out of everyone. Being one of Jason's closest friends, your time in Gotham has been spent grieving and wishing you were all in San Francisco and normal again.

Your lip trembled, eyes overflowing with tears that wet your cheeks. You practically collapse on the chair beside the bed, and Babs pulls you into her.

"I hate seeing him like this," you sob, arms stretching around her. She rubs your back, letting out gentle coos to help you calm down.

"You should go join the others," you smile weakly, pulling away and wiping your eyes.

"Are you sure? I can stay here if you need me to?"

"It's okay. Please, go enjoy tonight's successes."

She rubs your arm, apology laced in her touch before she makes her way to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Your head drops onto the mattress beside his body. How could you have let this happen? Was this your fault too?

“[y/n]?” Jason coughs, and you swear you've never lifted your head faster.

"Hey," you smile weakly, taking his hand in yours. "How're you doing?"

"Oh, you know, pretty damn fucking great if you ask me," he scoffs. You don't mean to, but a minor chuckle releases from your throat.

"Here, you should probably have some water," you hand him a glass, and he looks at it with caution. "I haven't done anything to it if that's what you're concerned about."

He hums before gulping it all down.

"Jason," your lips trembles once again. "I'm so sorry."

Jason doesn't say anything. He rests back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why're you doing this? Don't think I'm coming back to you guys because I'm not."

"Because I care."

"Do you?" He turns to look at you.

"You know," you chuckle, looking down at your fingers. "I had the biggest crush on you. Of course, I never had the guts to say anything; you were too special of a friend for me to ruin that."

"How do I know that you're not lying?"

"Because I'm the one who saved you back there. I wasn't going to leave you, I would never to that."

There is a moment of silence that surpasses you both; neither of you knew what to say. Was he to thank you or be mad at you?

"I should probably let you rest," you cough slightly before standing up.

"Wait," Jason takes your hand in his. "Stay. Please?"

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

tag list: (click here to be apart of the tag list!)

@dylanobrienhehe //@jermaee //@boxofsteampunkplaces //@mollyknm //@greengarsstuff //@caswinchester2000 //@fandomfoodiedancer //@tsukyo //@kim23ivy //@cottonvioletsposts //@lildylsprayberryswhore //@msfandomfreak //@karleetakeenan //@theonewiththenerds //@i-love-scott-mccall //@elenapatricia99 //@zealouspursecowboydeputy //@hellraiser13-102407 //@ghostlygooppeanutwobbler //@theonewiththenerds //@sambucky8 //@thegirlyouworryabout // @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

[dragonzzilla]

The Sunken City of Godzilla

Saw Godzilla: King of the Monsters a second time today, and felt inspired to write up an essay on the Sunken City shown in the movie and how I changed my mind about the tragedy of its destruction:

When I first saw the movie, I was distraught that the sunken city (which I'm going to call 'Atlantis' for reasons) was destroyed in the nuclear blast. I was hoping maybe it was only the inner chamber that was damaged, but a second viewing confirmed nothing was spared. A lost civilization, proof of coexistence with the Titans, millennia of culture, lost forever. As someone who's loved the MonsterVerse lore so far, I was saddened that we didn't see more of Atlantis. Come on, a city that lived in harmony with Godzilla? That's ripe for exploration, that's something new and never seen before, I would love to see that (one can hope a comic will explore this in the future). Not to mention, I thought it was a curious move thematically to destroy what is explicitly called Godzilla's home, when the previous movie in the MonsterVerse (Kong: Skull Island) went out of its way to point out just how badly we screwed up by setting off a bomb in a monster's house. While never touched upon in the movie, I bet a lot of Monarch archaeologists would've loved to study those ruins. It would've been a gold mine. Had there been another way, I'm sure they would've spared Atlantis and return later to study it.

But a few days later, I came to a realization. One can only assume the city was above water originally, which means it must've sunk at some point. But considering the sheer scale of the city and how far it sunk (its location is never specified in the movie), the event must have been catastrophic. Something on the scale of a Titan battle. We know the Titans started causing natural disasters as soon as they awoke, including earthquakes and tsunamis, so it's not unreasonable to assume that a sufficiently titanic battle could have sunken Atlantis. After all, we saw Washington D.C. completely flooded (enough for *aircraft carriers* to wade in) just from Ghidorah's storm powers alone. Which led me to my realization: What if Atlantis sunk as a result of Godzilla battling another monster, possibly even Ghidorah himself? A city that revered Godzilla above all else, sent to the bottom of the sea, its people washed away. It could've been just another tragic causality in Godzilla and Ghidorah's intense rivalry, or it could've been the very thing that incited it.

Think about it: Legendary Godzilla doesn't hate humans. It was noticed back in 2014 that most of the damage he caused was incidental, a consequence of his immense size and battling with other kaiju. Otherwise, he ignored them unless they got in his way, and even then he didn't retaliate tenfold. And despite his enormity, he isn't oblivious of humans. He made eye contact with Brody in the Battle of San Francisco, he acknowledged his existence. Then in KOTM, he sees Serizawa come to him, even though the heat and radiation was killing him. Both times we see Godzilla at his lowest point, unable to get back up, his eye turns to a human. A vulnerable god turns to a mere human. Why? Why doesn't he hate us? Especially when both times, we were responsible for his hurt (indirectly with the release of the MUTOs and personally with the Oxygen Destroyer).

Because, I think, he loves us. They allude to a symbiotic relationship early in KOTM, and Serizawa says "We'd be his [pet]." The illustrations in Atlantis only confirm that happened once before. The people of Atlantis revered Godzilla, and Atlantis is the place Godzilla always returns to. The immense radiation wellspring was probably the main draw, but regardless Atlantis was the one place he felt safe. On the brink of death, he limped back. It was his innermost sanctum, accessible only to him and known only to a trusted few (Mothra). It was his home. Doctor Stanton remarked while they were in Atlantis, "If the stones could speak, the stories they could tell." I'd rather ask, "If Godzilla could speak, what stories could *he* tell?" A harmonious coexistence with humankind, so long ago now that humans have all but forgotten about it? Godzilla's memory is long; several thousand years is nothing to a creature that's existed since the Permian Era. He might remember the glory days of Atlantis like it was yesterday. He remembers a time when humans did not fear or hate him. Yet Atlantis fell all the same. If Ghidorah was responsible for the Sinking of Atlantis, then he wouldn't just be an intruder; he'd be responsible for the murder of an entire people that Godzilla cared for. And as I said, humans aren't beneath his notice. He would've seen everything, heard everything, yet powerless to stop it. The architecture survived, but the people did not. Every time he must return to Atlantis to heal his wounds or hibernate, he'd have to swim through the sunken city, the drowned streets, the submerged towers. A city built in his honor. A city of ghosts. It'd be a bitter pill to swallow, time and again. His body would heal, but it'd do nothing for regret.

Which is why now, I've come to accept the destruction of Atlantis. The history and culture will forever be lost to the depths of time, but Atlantis was more than a city. It was proof of peace between man and monster, mortal and god. That connection was broken a long time ago, and it wasn't until Serizawa's sacrifice that it was mended. Here is a man of unwavering belief and conviction. While the rest of the world dismisses Godzilla as a mere animal or views him as a threat, here is a man who kept faith, a man who dares to consider the seemingly impossible idea that fear and hate aren't the only options. Here is a man of peace; a man willing to sacrifice everything for the chance of a better tomorrow; a true Serizawa.

The greed and imprudence of man is a common theme in Godzilla movies. Mankind is not inherently evil, but it is thoughtless decisions that allow great evil to come about. The creation of atomic weapons, the terrible application of them, the ensuing escalation of arms. The environmental messages in KOTM reinforces this idea, that our careless exploitation of the Earth's resources are rousing the Titans to combat this disaster. We strip mine, we mine for oil, we cut down irreplaceable swaths of forest. Normal people are not responsible for these things, but the decisions of a few that are determining the fate of everyone on the planet, risking the lives of billions in the pursuit of shortsighted gain. Yet Serizawa proves to Godzilla that not every human feels that way. Serizawa shows that this is not human nature now. That some are still willing to give their happiness and, yes, even their lives to make a better world they know they won't see. Serizawa demonstrates, before the eyes of god, humanity at its most selfless. He renews the old pacts and pays with his life. One can argue that they could've sent any soldier to carry the nuke, and thereby spare Serizawa's genius and leadership, but I don't think anyone else on the submarine could've succeeded—not because I think nobody else could withstand the radiation, but rather, no one else had more faith in Godzilla more than he did. No one else could've paid back the love Godzilla had for humanity, all those years ago. Trust for trust, a life for a life. When Godzilla rose out the water, he stooped down and looked these humans in the eye to see if they still feared him. And they didn’t back down. It wasn’t fear or hate on their faces, but something familiar, almost forgotten: reverence.

The destruction of Atlantis was more than a physical annihilation; it was the demolition of the past—a clean slate, a changing of the guard. Nothing can bring back the people or the culture, but no longer will the murals and empty streets remind Godzilla of what he had lost. The city was a promise, a promise that has been fulfilled once again. Atlantis was a monument to the lost peace between man and Godzilla. A peace that has been reforged in nuclear fire.

Atlantis had to be destroyed. It had served its purpose. As Serizawa said: “Sometimes the only way to heal our wounds is to make peace with the demons who created them." If you want to put old ghosts to rest, you cannot dwell on them; you have to bury them and move on. With Atlantis gone, Godzilla can no longer live in the past. He is the once and future king.

[furbysciences]

AN INHABITANT OF CARCOSA by Ambrose Bierce

(DISCLAIMER: Ambrose Bierce wrote this story and I claim no ownership to it or anything mentioned in it.)

For there be divers sorts of death- some wherein the body remaineth; and in some it vanisheth quite away with the spirit. This commonly occurreth only in solitude (such is God’s will) and, none seeing the end, we say the man is lost, or gone on a long journey--which indeed he hath; but sometimes it hath happened in sight of many, as abundant testimony showeth. In one kind of death the spirit also dieth, and this hath been known to do while yet the body was in vigour for many years. Sometimes, as is veritably attested, it dieth with the body, but after a season is raised up again in that place where the body did decay.

Pondering these words of Hali (whom God rest) and questioning their full meaning, as one who, having an intimation, yet doubts if there be not something behind, other than that which he has discerned, I noted not whither I had strayed until a sudden chill wind striking my face revived in me a sense of my surroundings. I observed with astonishment that everything seemed unfamiliar. On one side of me stretched a bleak and desolate expanse of plain, covered with a tall overgrowth of sere grass, which rustled and whistled in the autumn wind with Heaven knows what mysterious and disquieting suggestion. Protruded at long intervals above it, stood strangely shaped and sombre-coloured rocks, which seemed to have an understanding with one another and to exchange looks of uncomfortable significance, as if they had reared their heads to watch the issue of some foreseen event. A few blasted trees here and there appeared as leaders in this malevolent conspiracy of silent expectation. The day, I thought, must be far advanced, though the sun was invisible; and although sensible that the air was raw and chill my consciousness of the fact was rather mental than physical--I had no feeling of discomfort. Over all the dismal landscape a canopy of low, lead-coloured clouds hung like a visible curse. In all this there was a menace and a portent--a hint of evil, an intimation of doom. Bird, beast, or insect there was none. The wind sighed in the bare branches of the dead trees and the grey grass bent to whisper it’s dread secret to the earth; but no other sound nor motion broke the awful repose of that dismal place. I observed in the herbage a number of weatherworn stones, evidently shaped with tools. They were broken, covered with moss and half sunken in the earth. Some lay prostrate, some leaned at various angles, none was vertical. They were obviously headstones of graves, though the graves themselves no longer existed as either mounds or depressions’ the years had leveled all. Scattered here and there, more massive blocks showed where some pompous tomb or ambitious monument had once flung its feeble defiance at oblivion. So old seemed these relics, these vestiges of vanity and memorials of affection and piety, so battered and worn and stained--- so neglected, deserted, forgotten the place that I could not help thinking myself the discoverer of the burial-ground of a prehistoric race of men whose very name was long extinct.

Filled with these reflections, I was for some time heedless of the sequence of my own experiences, but soon I thought,  “How came I hither?” A moment’s reflection seemed to make this all clear and explain at the same time, though in a disquieting way, the singular character with which my fancy had invested all that I saw and heard. I was ill. I remembered now that I had been prostrated by a sudden fever, and that my family had told me that in my periods of delirium I had constantly cried out for liberty and air, and had been held in bed to prevent my escape out-of-doors. Now I had eluded the vigilance of my attendants and had wandered hither to---to where? I could not conjecture. Clearly I was at a considerable distance from the city where I dwelt-- the ancient and famous city of Carcosa.

No signs of human life were anywhere visible nor audible; no rising smoke, no watch-dog’s bark, no lowing of cattle, no shouts of children at play--nothing but that dismal burial-place, with it’s air of mystery and dead, due to my own disordered brain. Was I not becoming again delirious, there beyond human aid? Was it not indeed all an illusion of my madness? I called aloud the names of my wives and sons, reached out my hands in search of theirs, even as I walked among the crumbling stones and in the withered grass.

A noise behind me caused me to turn about. A wild animal--a lynx-- was approaching. The thought came to me: if I break down here in the desert-- if the fever return and I fail, this beat will be at my throat. I sprang toward it, shouting. It trotted tranquilly by within a hand’s breadth of me and disappeared behind a rock.

A moment later a man’s head appeared to rise out of the a ground a short distance away. Her was ascending the farther slope of a low hill whose crest was hardly to be distinguished from the general level. His whole figure soon came into view against the background of grey cloud. He was half naked, half clad in skins. His hair was unkempt, his bear long and ragged. In one hand he carried a bow and arrow; the other held a blazing torch with a long trail of black smoke. He walked slowly and with caution, as if he feared falling into some open grave concealed by the tall grass. This strange apparition surprised but did not alarm, and taking such a course as to intercept him I met him almost face to face, accosting him with the familiar salutation, “God keep you/”

He gave no heed, nor did he arrest his pace.

“Good Stranger,” I continued, “I am ill and lost. Direct me, I beseech you, to Carcosa.”

The man broke into a barbarous chant in an unknown tongue, passing on and away.

An owl on the branch of a decayed tree hooted dismally and was answered by another in the distance. Looking upward, I saw through a sudden rift in the clouds. Aldebaran and the Hyades! In all this there was a hint of night--the lynx, the man with the torch, the owl. Yet I saw--I saw even the stars in absence of the darkness. I saw, but was apparently not seen nor heard. Under what awful spell did I exist?

I seated myself at the root of a great tree, seriously to consider what it were best to do. That I was mad I could no longer doubt, yet recognized a ground of doubt in the conviction. Of fever I had no trace. I had, withal, a sense of exhilaration and vigour altogether unknown to me--a feeling of mental and physical exaltation. My senses seemed all alert; I could feel the air as a ponderous substance; I could hear the silence.

A great root of the giant tree against whose trunk I leaned as I sat held enclosed in its grasp a slab of stone, a part of which protruded into a recess formed by another root. The stone was thus partly protected from the weather, though greatly decomposed. Its edges were worn around, its corners eaten away, its surface deeply furrowed and scaled. Glittering particles of mica were visible in the earth about it--vestiges of its decomposition. This stone had apparently marked the grave out of which the tree had sprung ages ago. The tree’s exacting roots had robbed the grave and made the stone a prisoner.

A sudden wind pushed some dry leaves and twigs from the uppermost face of the stone; I saw the low-relief letters of an inscription and bent to read it. God in heaven! My name in full!--the date of my birth!--the date of my death!

A level shaft of light illuminated the whole side of the tree as I sprang to my feet in terror. The sun was rising in the rosy east. I stood between the tree and his broad red disk---no shadow darkened the trunk!

A chorus of howling wolves saluted the dawn. I saw them sitting on their haunches, singly and in groups, on the summits of irregular mounds and tumuli filling a half of my desert prospect and extending to the horizon. And then I knew that these were ruins of the ancient and famous city of Carcosa.

Such are the facts imparted to the medium Bayrolles by the spirit Hoseib Alar Robardin.

Fin.

It was originally published in the San Francisco Newsletter of December 25, 1886. The city of Carcosa is used in the story ‘The King In Yellow’ by Robert W. Chambers, a book comprised of short stories which was published in 1895 by F. Tennyson Neely. Fun extra fact, ‘The King In Yellow’ is widely accepted to be part of the Lovecraftian Cthulhu Mythos.

[roughsexwithgaga]

Stop Running Away pt.2

Pt.1

Lukas Nelson was playing at the Seva charity event in San Francisco and Lady Gaga packed her bags to go see him. The days without him she had spent fantasizing so much she was nearly dehydrated from lack of love and her vagina was already hurting from the anticipation. She and Lukas had only spent a few days apart but she was already so in love she could only think of him.

Arriving late she didn’t get a chance to see him before the band went on stage. His presence on the stage was contagious, raw energy and an honest connection with the audience that’s rarely seen among the manufactured stars these days. She was on cloud 9. He was hers. She was so proud her belly was a chaotic mess of butterflies and she was torn between wanting him to go on with that guitar forever and desperately needing him between her thighs.

She felt like he was singing directly to her. The lyrics made her heart swell in her chest and she felt her eyes get teary.

’I need to stop running away from people I love I need to start looking for people who love me the same And the love that I live for is one I can’t let slide away And I need to remember the love that you gave me today’

As the band played ’Stay a little longer’ he spotted her in the corner and locked eyes with her. He smiled and didn’t take his eyes off her to the lyrics ’stay all night, stay a little longer, dance all night, dance a little longer’. Gaga’s heart nearly cracked her ribs as it pounded in her tiny chest.

As soon as he got off stage she had waited for him. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. With her arms around him she rested her head against his chest. ”We never danced all night,” he said caressing her soft hair and smelling it. ”I missed you.”

”We never danced because we made love all night.” Gaga took a step back and looked into his eyes. They took a few steps like they pretended to dance and Lukas laughed when he saw her t-shirt. ”You’re such a kiss-ass stan, Stef.”

She wore a t-shirt with Willie Nelson on it and pretended to look hurt. ”I wanted to dress appropriately.” Her lower lip pouted and she pulled it to show Lukas the full print. He didn’t look at it, but instead he pulled some loose hairs that fell into her face behind her ear, as she looked down on her t-shirt.  

”You’re so beautiful my heart can’t handle it,” he said quietly. His fingers were warm. He felt the sweat on his back and wanted to take a shower, but he didn’t really want to leave the woman in front of him. Fearing someone would show up and steal her away from him.

Her eyes were amazing and glittered as she tilted her head to the side and leaned closer when he kissed her. His lips softly pressed against hers and she parted them to let his tongue inside her mouth. He felt the tip of her tongue poke his and a shiver ran down his spine and into his belly down his crotch. She made him hard in seconds and he pulled her closer so she could feel it.

”Let’s socialize before I tear your clothes off,” he mumbled.

”I won’t allow you to ruin my favorite t-shirt, Lukas.”

”Oh, please…” He shook his head.

\o/

Lukas lifted Gaga up and held her against the wall. The hotel room looked like they traveled back in time, with heavy thick red curtains and velvet carpet. Gaga wore her loose fitted t-shirt, tight, ripped black jeans and ankle boots. She locked her feet behind his back and buried her face against his neck.

”I love you,” she whispered while she felt Lukas pull her t-shirt up to cup her butt. His hands were softly groping and stroking while snuggling her neck to inhale her smell. He put her down on the bed and pulled the boots off her feet. ”What are you made off, woman? You walked around in these shoes all day I’m pretty sure this is what angels smells like.”

”Stop it,” she said and tried to reach his hand, that held the boot. He pushed her back down. ”Ah-ah-ah,” he said.

”They don’t smell like-” she tried to prevent him from smelling her shoe when he suddenly tossed it away and pulled her socks off her feet. ”Everything about you is so damn cute.” The socks went the same way as the shoes and he held her right foot in his hand. He raised it and pressed it against his face, kissing it while looking into her eyes.

She looked back at him and tried not to giggle from the tickles. She just said she she loved him and he didn’t say it back. Say it back, please, she begged in her head as he kissed her ankle and let his fingers slip along her calf. He parted her legs and climbed on top of her. His hair fell into her face and he leaned down to kiss her.

After his lips let go off hers he said ”I love you” and Gaga felt lightheaded. She thought she finally found love, a mutual. A soulmate. ”I want you forever,” she said even though her brain screamed at her not to act like a clinging, desperate psycho.

He pulled her precious t-shirt up and kissed her soft, flat belly. Her skin was patchy red and she was hot from excitement. His lips were burning against her and she writhed to get out of her clothes. Lukas pulled the duvet off the bed and she nearly disappeared among the sheets and cushions.

The pants were peeled off and his hand found its way inside her black thong, she was already wet and he licked his fingers before pulling her t-shirt completely over her head. Then he turned around and folded it neatly and put it beside the bed. ”You…” Gaga bursted out laughing and snorted through her nose. Lukas looked at her and smiled. His kisses were warm and plenty.

He sucked her nipples and caressed her pale skin. ”Yes, I’m a New York woman,” she grinned when he jokingly asked if she didn’t enjoy the California sun, knowing very well how they had mostly spent their time inside when he visited her.

“Yeah, you are,” he said, parting her legs and making her feel beautiful and desired again. She didn’t think it was possible to feel this way, but she loved him with all her heart and was already afraid of losing him. Don’t push him, she thought again, but how was she supposed to hold back when she felt so much.

Her smile, with tight lips, made the dimple above the corner of her mouth deeper and it looked like she was contemplating something really important. Her lips were red, swollen and wet. She sucked her cheeks and raised her chin. ”What do you see?” she asked.

He ran his thumb along her smooth forehead down towards her temple and felt her baby hairs against his fingers. He thought of how the dark roots sort of framed her face and wondered why she bleached it. Her features were strong and no doubt Italian. She would make beautiful babies, he thought and wondered why on earth he was thinking that.

”I see a beautiful and kind soul. You’re real. A woman. Determined. A fighter.”

Gaga thought of how he didn’t mention her appearance or her body. ”I’m so afraid of pushing you away by telling you how much you mean to me.”

”How would that push me away?”

”You have no idea the things I do to make people stay and how much I work and how far they end up running to get away from me.”

”Oh, baby, I don’t know who you met but they seriously had no fucking idea what they had in front of them,” he nearly laughed.

She wiped the corner of her eye, careful as if not to ruin her eyeliner and then remembered it didn’t matter because Lukas wouldn’t care. Her eyelids were dark, it looked like she had worn make up but hadn’t washed it off properly or as if she was tired. Her lashes were thick and dark and every time he looked into her eyes he had to tell himself she’s actually for real and she’s here with me.

Her eyes shifted from green to light brown and it was like they pierced right through him. She is magnificent. A once-in-a-lifetime extraordinary human being and a woman. Lukas thought of how she was right. It was all covered in a romantic fog now, but there would come a day when they were both touring, maybe unable to meet for weeks.

He knew he wanted his partner close, to be there as he woke up, just the length of an arm away at most. To smell her and feel her. She was probably more used to long-distance relationships, having a far more in-the-public-eye career than he did. He would also have to share her with the world and say goodbye to the kind of privacy he still had right now after all.  

But he loved her, and exactly how proud wouldn’t he be to escort her to events as the world had their eyes on her while he knew she loved him. Fuck, she’s worth it all, he thought as he looked into her eyes and felt his heart race in his chest.

She pulled his head down and made him kiss her, her lips gently pressed against his. Softly and very receptive she followed his lead when he kissed her. He ran a finger along her cheekbone, down along her sunken cheek and her jawline. Her skin was so soft and perfect. Not the slightest imperfection anywhere. Or maybe he was blind to them. She was tiny, but strong. Her arms were raised above her head and his fingers ran along her tits and teased her nipples. They were wet and hard against his palms. She smelled so good, sweet and not too much. Fresh like clean sheets left out to dry on a spring day.

The ticklish sensation from his lips on her sensitive nipples made her shiver. His soft hair stroking against her belly as he continued down. His mouth breathed warm air against her and his hands caressed her ribs. They wrapped around her back as she arched and felt his tongue meet her pussy. She’d missed him so much even if it was only a few days.

Her ass was raised from the bed and his hands were underneath it. She wanted him inside her and told him so. Only a few seconds later she felt him push inside her and she locked her arms around his back, he fucked her with his face against her neck. His hips driving his dick inside her as deep as he could, with hard shoves until he came.

Gaga was far from satisfied. She just needed to let him catch his breath and then she’d keep him busy all night. He left her on the bed and entered the bathroom. It took a few seconds before she decided to join him in the shower. With her soft, wet body pressed against his, he was hard again and this time he lasted longer as they made the most of their night together in Berkeley.

\o/

Lukas was leaving California to visit his family over the holidays and celebrate his birthday in Hawaii so Gaga had one last chance to spend a night together with him in a while. After that he was going home to Texas and she wasn’t sure she would be able to meet him before he would join her when she was going to win back the world in Houston. It felt like hell and she was already anxious.

Christian Carino’s eyes traveled up her legs as she was bending down to take her shoes off. Gaga could almost feel it. Ever since she officially called off her engagement to Taylor her CAA agent had been more and more visible at her place while Bobby was there less frequently. Gaga was convinced Bobby made him spy on her even though he was set to prepare for her upcoming events and had reason to visit her.

Christian was on his way out of Gaga’s house when he suddenly stopped and asked “Would you like to go out for dinner? I made a reservation in West Hollywood,” like the idea just popped up in his head. He wore a black shirt and jeans. His shoes were polished blank and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. Visible veins on his arms and his unshaved chin was gray and he ran a hand across it to seem as if her reply wouldn’t matter to him.

He would never ask for anything outside of their professional business. He had been present, spending time with her and her friends. Working close didn’t necessarily mean you bonded like she did with Sarah or Freddie or Bobby. People she saw 24 hours a day and knew more about her than her parents did, sometimes even herself. So Gaga stared at him. “Now? But-”

“I’ll get you back in time so you can say bye to Lukas.” Christian tried to smile when he said ‘Lukas’ but it looked more like a grimace as it didn’t reach his eyes.

Her brain tried to work out what had gotten into his head. She knew Christian had just broken up with his girlfriend, so could it be him seeing an opportunity when Gaga claimed herself single – and that he been waiting for her. But then she had fallen in love with Lukas and now he wanted to push the unknowing man out of the way?

“Ummm,” Gaga scratched her forehead while the thoughts raced through her mind. Did she want to? She wanted to be nice, because he’d always been nice to her and her career had made a turn for the better so of course she could please him with accepting dinner. She was so protective of her love for Lukas it made her suspect everyone was out to break them apart.

“I promise,” Christian smiled again and looked into her eyes when he saw her hesitation. His eyes looked black and he turned to face her, seeming more persuasive than being halfway turned away on his way out.

“Ok, I’ll just get my things,” she said and started putting her shoes on again. Her voice sounded more dejected than she intended.

The bar in West Hollywood offered very little privacy, so Gaga assumed he’d chosen it because he wanted them to be seen together. He also leaned very close to her throughout the evening, which was very uncomfortable at first but as the alcohol started buzzing through her veins she found herself relaxed and to her own surprise giggling at some of his jokes. She even let him put his hand on her thigh and didn’t immediately swat it away.

He moved closer in the car as they were heading back to her place and she felt his lips stroke against her neck as he pretended to smell her. For the first time during the evening she put a hand against his chest and pushed him away. He apologized and moved back into his seat.

She wished the car would move a little faster as it pulled up outside the entrance and she opened the car door before it had come to a full stop. Christian chased after her inside the house and caught up with her just as she opened the door. He held her arms and she had her back against the wall.

”This is not a good idea,” she said in a low voice. “Lukas will be here any second.”

He looked into her eyes and breathed fast from the brief sprint from the car. She was unfazed. The grip around her arms softened and he let her go. She didn’t move and just as he stepped out again she heard the sound of another car against the gravel. The engine stopped and she saw how Lukas jumped out of the car. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she sighed, relieved that he showed up just in time. Christian said hello to him and they stood outside talking a bit in the yellow light from the lamps before Lukas approached Gaga. She stood in the dark by the door waiting for him and wrapped her arms around him as soon as he was within reach.

”I missed you,” she mumbled against his chest. Only now realizing how Christian had made her panic and Lukas was so safe.

”Did you have a good time? Christian said you went out for dinner.” Lukas didn’t sound jealous or hurt. He simply asked out of curtesy. “Is that your heart beating?”

Gaga shrugged. “I’m excited.” She wasn’t going to mention how Christian had her cornered and touched her or how relieved she felt when Lukas arrived. “I’m so fucking happy I met you, Lukas.” She felt her eyes tear up and laughed at the same time. She hid her mouth behind her hand as she felt her lips curl. She didn’t want to cry. She was so happy with Lukas.

”Sweet little thing,” he said and his hand brushed against her cheek again. She could tell he loved touching her. His hands were always feeling and caressing her when he had opportunity and she loved it so much.

Lukas followed her inside and stayed with her for a few hours before leaving for the airport. She felt the desperate clinging person inside her slip out and nearly glued herself to him again.

Bobby called. Gaga was more suspicious than ever. So Christian called Bobby and now he called her to check on her again.

Bobby was convinced Lukas made her forget about everything and he wanted to know if he should be worried about her upcoming projects.

”I’m working again, now. Stop!” she complained on the phone while Lukas kissed her back while she was lying on her belly in the bed.

”It’s not like I can’t hear what is going on.” Bobby frowned. ”I know you’re happy and all but seriously the work starts after the holidays and you’re completely lost in some dream.”

Lukas’ lips made their way along her shoulder and traced her tattoos all the way down to her hip and it tickled. She laughed.

”Stef! Bobby said. Do you want to do this?”

”It’s just one more night! He’s just here for one more night!” she yelled at her phone. As if she couldn’t do both. How much time had she spent on her personal life all this years for real. Hardly anything. She was always going someplace. She spent more time at airports than getting fucked. So Bobby just needed to understand she had needs too.

”I never heard of any person needing as much horizontal time as you do!”

”Now that was probably the most lowest thing you ever said to me!” She ended the call before Bobby could correct her grammar and tossed the phone away.

Lukas paid no attention to her outburst. His hands were stroking her shoulder blades down toward her ass cheeks. ”You’re so damn sexy,” he mumbled.

Gaga let out an angry sigh. Her last night with Lukas was ruined. Now she felt bad. She bit the pillow and closed her eyes. Was Bobby really worried she was putting her personal life ahead of her career? So what if she was! She wouldn’t be the first. It wasn’t like she was struggling. He should be more worried about her rep trying to work his way into her panties.

”I think he’s protective of you. He’s afraid I’m gonna break your heart and mess up his product.”

Gaga raised her head and looked at Lukas with surprised eyes. "I can’t believe you called me a product.”

”Don’t look at me like that.” He laughed. ”They care about you, they all do. They are with you every day. They see what you go through. Of course they are worried when someone new comes into your life and stir it up a bit.”

He looked into her eyes, it was such an amazing feeling. It was like she spoke to him through her eyes and he could tell exactly what she was thinking - but only if she wanted to. Sometimes it was like he faced a wall and she shut him out and it scared him. He told her a lot of things about how he felt, but not this.

”Are you?” she asked eventually and her glossy eyes switched to the hard and empty gaze.

”What?” Her cold eyes caught him off guard.

”Going to break my heart.”

”It’s not something I plan to do, no.” He looked at her seriously. Afraid that the slightest hint of a smile would make her think he was joking. ”To be honest, I think you’ll break my heart.”

Gaga closed her eyes again and thought how she rarely was the one breaking any hearts, but whenever she gave her heart away she ended up being hurt. She inhaled through her swollen lips and felt Lukas’ hands on her lower back. How he leaned down and moved her hair away to kiss her nape. He slipped his hands underneath her chest and hugged her while he curled up next to her.

”We can just lie like this until I have to leave, if you want to.”

He’s amazing, Gaga thought. How can he sense exactly what I need?

The air was humid and felt like a soft blanket, she didn’t want to open her eyes but just lie in his arms. He held her tiny female body in his arms. Warm and full of life and dreams and desires. He was so lucky to get a chance at fulfilling the slightest wish from her, this incredible woman.

I’m obsessed with you, he thought, breathing in synch with her until his alarm beeped, barely noticeable and he rolled over on his back and turned it off. He looked at his phone. There was plenty of time and he didn’t really want to leave her. He swallowed. Suddenly afraid that whatever he felt right now would wear off and what she feared would become reality. Seriously, he thought. You can’t force yourself into feeling a certain way. I love her, it’s not like I’m deciding to or not.

Why did he suddenly become scared? Because everyone surrounding her were coming for his throat, thinking he was up to no good. It was like they all ganged up on him to sign a contract to commit himself to her entirely.

He looked at her, she breathed with her lips slightly parted and her teeth showed. Her chin had fallen down a bit. The line from her nose down to the corner of her mouth was visible. Tiny wrinkles by her eyes even when her face was completely relaxed. She was insanely beautiful. More beautiful in person than in any photo he had seen of her.

Suddenly she pulled her dark eyebrows together and opened her eyes. At first she looked lost and then she saw his face and smiled.

”Don’t leave,” she said and locked her fingers around his arm.

”You sleep, I’ll call you.” Then he leaned down and kissed her frowning forehead and her soft lips. ”I love you.”

\o/

”She’s sinking.” Ashley helped Sarah pack her bags in the car. She quickly went quiet when she heard Gaga’s voice giving out instructions as she approached the vehicle. Sarah gave Ashley a look that said ”I know” and then they both sat down in the back while Gaga jumped into the passenger seat. She was talking loudly into the phone while trying to untangle the stubborn charger cable from some other wire it was stuck to.

”Lukas still hasn’t called and she’s getting more and more anxious.” Ashley leaned over to Sarah and whispered when she suddenly felt the cables being dropped into her lap and Gaga asked her to sort the mess out.

They were on their way home after spending a few days off in Aspen before going back to Malibu for Christmas. ”It’s only been like two days, he’s probably not even settled in yet.” Sarah said and Ashley held up three fingers as in three days while Gaga’s voice got more and more whiny on the phone. She ended the call and scrolled through her call lists and texts. When there still didn’t magically pop up a message from Lukas she shoved the phone away and started sulking.

”Say something,” Sarah mouthed at Ashley who shook her head and pulled the cables.

Then Gaga’s phone lit up and she threw herself at it like it was on fire. “It’s him!”

Her car door flew open and she stepped out on the sidewalk to talk to him in private. The two women in the back saw her disappear out with her phone pressed against her ear. Her cheeks were blushing red. They both exhaled and looked at each other. ”Why couldn’t she just have called him? It’s 2016, not 1916,” Ashley complained. ”Don’t they even text?”

”Apparently he said he would call her, so she waited to, you know, not to seem like the person she is so afraid to be. The clingy one.”

”She could end up losing him.”

Gaga strolled around outside the car in her baggy pants and top. She was dressed in black from head to toe and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun. Whispering into the phone she declared how much she longed for him and wiped her running nose and eyes. Her hands were shaking and she craved a cigarette so badly.

His voice felt so close. She heard him breathing and she could sense his smell in her nostrils. The feeling of his soft hair underneath her hands. She realized she was hopelessly lost and in love with him and acted like she was 14 and he was her very first love. ”Why didn’t you call?” She heard her own nasal voice and how whiny she sounded.

”I wanted to call you the second I left. I have been wanting to call you every second. I have been thinking about you all the time. You haven’t left my thoughts.” He suddenly pulled a deep breath, like he started over. ”I don’t know, Stef. I feel like I’m nobody. How could I possibly be the one for you?”

Gaga felt the blood leave her face. She nearly passed out. Now it started. No. No. No. She felt the tears build up and her voice trembled. “Don’t say that, Lukas. I’m just a woman madly in love with a man. With you. My feelings aren’t extraordinary because my career is. I love you. I want to be with you, only you. I choose you. Please, don’t push me away.” She took shallow breaths and put her fingers around a pole, pulled herself against it and felt the cold metal against her pounding forehead.

The sunglasses provided a shield against the outside world and she was grateful she had them on now when her red eyes would give away how desperate she was. She wondered if ‘someone’ had talked to Lukas and told him to back away. Her body ached for his touch, to be in his arms and feel connected to him. She didn’t understand why he said those things because he was definitely on her level.

“I only have a few free days before the SB rehearsals and I need to see Bradley and-”

Lukas sighed and interrupted her. “You see. When will there be time for us?”

“Don’t do this to me. You weren’t a part of my life when all this was scheduled.”

"It wouldn’t change. It’s your life. It’s what you do.”

“Please. There will be time for us. I will make time for us.” Her voice got weaker. She felt like she already lost as she saw her schedule tower up in front of her.

“I wouldn’t want you to give up anything that makes you happy, for me. I’d feel guilty all my life.”

“You don’t understand. I wouldn’t give anything up because I choose you.” She started scratching a sticker attached to the pole and felt the eyes of her employees burn against her neck. “I’m on my knees, Lukas, I’m-” her voice disappeared. She pulled a deep breath. ”Will we meet in February still?”

”I’ll support you. Always.”

She could hear how he smiled as he said it and it somehow made absolutely everything feel so much worse.

Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6

[rutisup-blog]

Mendocino Magic I

“Geodesic” says Jonny as we’re cruising down the road. “Huh?” I say, the expanses of Mendocino County rushing past us.

“Geodesic dome” he says, pointing to this little dome roofed hut off the side of the 101. I start writing in this journal, observing all of the beautiful Madrone trees.

My Levi 501s are dirty, adding a little character to them after this camping trip. I’m still wearing my blue outer space shirt from last night. Besides brushing my teeth and putting contact lenses in, I haven’t done much in the way of personal hygiene.

We’re probably 15 miles outside Laytonville now, headed South back to San Francisco–woooo. It’s been a fantastic camping trip. We’re just passing the blind horses now in Willits.

*** 25/5/17 — Saturday Morning — Fort Badass — Mission District — SF

It’s about 8:30 AM and I’m feeling a bit of a sore throat. I’ve got the blue pop t-shirt on, and a cleaner iteration of the Levi 501s on my gams.

Mizzle and Jonny eat turkey bacon and eggs. We watch Arsenal versus Chelsea at the house. Arsenal got a single goal in first quarter, coasting 1-0 until half-time. Jonny keeps freaking out every time Arsenal blows a clear shot on goal. “Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!” He yells. A true fan.

Half-time hits and it’s time to roll out. The three of us walk down to the car, loading it up with our stuff. We’re off now to his family home in Novato to grab Beowulf, the huge F-350 we’re going to bring camping.

Jonny is streaming the audio from the second half of the game, British commentators voices echoing out of the speakers. I can’t help but get into the game–Jonny’s enthusiasm proves to be contagious. “I just want Arsenal to win so I can gloat over my sister, she’s a Chelsea fan!” rings Jonny.

Beautiful views of the San Francisco Bay avail themselves as we roll on over the Golden Gate Bridge, enhanced by British commentators yelling “GOAAALLLLL!!” and Jonny cheering ecstatically in the driver seat. We get to Jonny’s house in Novato and find Crissy’s crew already waiting. The boys head inside, and I mill around a minute before I go in to grab a glass of water.

There’s a freshly sabered bottle of champagne on the ledge overlooking the sunken living room, where inside a huge TV screen is playing the Chelsea vs. Arsenal game. It’s like I can’t escape the ‘footy’.

Liv, Nick, Rachel, Chrissy, and Chris are seated down in the living room. I walk into the kitchen, to find Jonny’s sister talking about the saber. It’s a small heavy thing, the blade about eight inches long. It’s sitting in this cool wooden holder, blade down. Jonny’s sis shows me a video of her sabering the champagne–very well done. “It’s my party trick” she says.

Jonny pours me a warm glass of water and throws some ice in it for me. I’m befuddled, as I feel the heat from the glass on my hand. These Californians sure hate to waste water by running the tap I suppose. Soon Dimitry and Britt arrive. I talk to Jonny’s dad and say hello.

It’s not long before we’re loading up Beowulf. I toss my Gregory 85L backpack in the covered pickup of that F-350XL Supercab and we set off as a huge convoy. Beowulf leads the pack, followed by Dimitri and Britt; Chris(sy), Nick, Liv, and Rachel; and finally Nick and Allison.

“Oh shit, the music isn’t working” grieves Jonny in horror. “This happens sometimes” he moans. We fiddle with the settings a bit, but nothing seems to work. “Sometimes you have to turn the car off” says Jonny. “Ah…The ol’ turn it off and turn it back on again trick” I say.

We pull the car over to the side of the road, and pop the door open to shut off the stereo (since it’s a Ford). The convoy is in confusion now, and the fix doesn’t even work. So we keep moving, and then pull over again a few times, really confusing the hell out of everyone else.

Jonny calls Chrissy and tells them to keep it rolling. We stop in at a Chevron parking lot to try and fix this. It’s futile, nothing works. I grab my Jambox bluetooth speaker out of my backpack, and we just end up playing the music through that.

Beowulf cruises up US-101 headed north towards Mendocino county. Soon the trees yield to rolling burnt orange hills. “These were all green a few weeks ago” remarks Jonny. We keep on cruising, and begin to enter the forests of Mendocino as we leave those burnt hills behind us.

Rocky cliffs start to dominate the landscape. Mizzler teaches us this game called “contact” that is really fun. Jonny’s on the horn with Chrissy now, and we all decide to rendezvous at the Wal-Mart in Ukiah. Nick and Allison have already beaten us to the camp-site.

As we pull into the vast parking lot of Wal-Mart, my stomach grumbles. “Let’s ride around in these things” I quip, motioning towards some electric scooters we pass in the entrance to Wal-Mart. A subway presents itself on the left as we enter into the depths of a Super Wal-Mart. I’m so hungry.

Lots of cheap Fourth of July / Memorial day gear is on display here. We grab a cart and immediately get a little lost and disoriented–the intended effect of the store’s design. We need some alcohol and charcoal, but other than that we’re sorted.

I buy smore stuff, and I’m trying to determine just how much chocolate to buy. I ask the chubby mother of two trying to control her kids just beside me in the snack aisle.

“I would say four bars…Although if you’re drunk you might just throw the whole thing on!” she laughs. It wasn’t that funny but she’s in good spirits so I laugh with her.

I’m walking with Jonny, trying to find a cooler for the rum punch he plans to make. We end up with some collapsible two gallon container. The volume level seems to increase in the shop. I start running into other members of the crew, one by one. Soon, 15 young adults are roaming around, pushing carts and getting ready to party amongst a sea of sad, depressed looking people doing their shopping. It’s on.

We’re in the beer aisle, studying our options.

“Coors or Hi-life?” says one of the boys. “How about Natty Ice?” jokes Jonny. “Jesus Christ” I say, shaking my head. “We’re getting Colorado piss water” I say, grabbing a 30-rack of frosty Coors. We buy some more shit, and then hit the checkout stand.

There’s a sad collection of alcohol on a flimsy metal shelf behind the counter. Our checkstand is the “one with the alcohol” I grab the third to last bottle of Jamieson and Jonny grabs two handles of Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum for the punch. Everyone meets at Beowulf, and the whole gang loads all of their combined cargo in the massive pickup. We all resolve to meet at the campgrounds.

Car Beowulf and Car Brittany stop at Chipotle. There’s this large butch emo chick working the counter, and I grab a carne asada burrito bowl. I order it to go, low-key knowing that I probably will end up just eating it here anyways.

Jonny and I both have to go to the bathroom. There’s a single person bathroom with both a toilet and a urinal in it–no divider. “Fuck it, let’s both go”. So I’m pissing in the urinal while Jonny is taking a shit in the toilet. I’m done in short order, and Jonny says “Lock it on the way out” as I’m washing my hands.

I start to crack up “Oh dude, It’s going to unlock itself as soon as that door shuts when I leave! You’re fucked!”. There’s not much I can do to help him, so I walk out of there, leaving Jonny with his pants down on the can, 10 feet from the door. I lock it on the way out, but as soon as the door slams shut I hear a muffled “SHIT!!!” coming from the bathroom. I was right, it’s unlocked now.

I can’t help but laugh, all red in the face and giggling as I try to tell everyone the situation. We make a plan to walk in on him and give him a surprise. He’s just a s(h)itting duck in there. There’s a group of Asian tourists milling about as well, and we’re hoping one of them walks in on him first. One fast minute later, and he’s already back at the table. His shit was clearly ruined.

We make fun of Jonny’s burrito, it’s pretty fucking sad looking. Jonny’s burrito was more like a flour tortilla money-bag, the big husky emo girl at the counter just mashed it all into a big hunk with the tin-foil and called it a day. It’s a very BORDERLINE ‘burrito’ that’s for sure. It’s round in all the wrong ways. I’m feeling happy I got the bowl.

Britt, Mizzler, Dimitry, Jonny, and I are chowing down and chatting a bit. “This is great, we got to park in the shade…the cars will be cool” says Dimitry with a smile on his face.

“Where you from?” I say curiously. “Well how far back do you want me to go? Conception” I love backstories. “The whole thing, conception, why not?” “Well from what my parents tell me, it was on a retreat in the Ural Mountains of Russia. At least that’s the story my parents tell me. I was probably a drunken mistake” he laughs.

He starts going through where he’s grown up, but my ear is just listening for that sweet F L O R I D A. “New Jersey, this is where I met this girl” he says, pointing at Brittany.

“Florida for a bit-” “A-ha! I knew it. Your shade comment gave it away! You Floridians always go for the shade!” “He was telling me to pahwk in da shayde!!” exclaims Brittney in a heavy New Jersey accent. I felt like Sherlock Holmes for a second there.

Time to roll out. The boys and I hop in Beowulf, Jonny at the helm, Mizzle riding shotgun, and me laying down in the backseat for a little nap. We purr down the 101, heading ever north down towards Laytonville. “I’ve never driven this far down” remarks Jonny as we pass through the cute little town of Hopton.

We push on forward, passing some horses with full blinders on over their heads and eyes in Willits, CA.

“Fuck, that place looks decrepit” I say as we pass a worn out and abandoned looking MOTEL sign on the side of the road. “Decrepit, that’s a good word” says Mizzler.

A discussion breaks out on the word dilapidated, decrepit, and why bad words seem to start with “de”. We’re nearly there, and I’m getting stoked. Before long we’re pulling up past a sign on the side of the road that says ‘Mendocino Magic’. Jonny swings Beowulf up the windy road into the campsite.

There’s a clearing here with a bunch of cars parked in the lot. The ground is reddish dirt mixed with burnt orange grass. We see Nick and Allison, and swing Beowulf around to say hello. “We’ve just moved our car back here, the campsite is up that way” motions Nick.

We continue driving on the gravel road, further into the campsite. “MAX SPEED, 5 MPH” reads a sign upon a wooden fence. Some people block the road up ahead, and we slow down to a stop.

This little hardy early 20s looking girl approaches the window of our truck with an air of authority, and we roll out windows down to say hey. “Where you guys going?” she says, holding a frosty Pabst Blue Ribbon in her left hand. She’s holding it pretty high, so it’s probably pretty full.

“We’re camping…uhhh…not sure.” “Cannonball? You with Cannonball Camp?” she says. “Uhh…Hold on”.

I pull out my phone, and find the e-mail. “Mill Pond” I respond. She directs us to the campsite, and then parts with “Gotta deal with a rattlesnake…”

We drive onwards. “Did you see the gun she was holding?” asked Jonny. She had a little case for it in the other hand apparently. We park Beowulf and start unloading the whole gang’s supplies. Soon the whole crew is here to lend a hand.

There’s these sad little carts to ferry the supplies to the campsite, and Max and Jonny load one up and start pulling cargo to the site, while I grab armfuls full of stuff and do the same.

The whole gang was at the site now, and we start setting up camp. A banging sound rings through the camp as Max and Jonny hammer the stakes into the huge ten-man tent they would be sharing. The banging sound is interrupted by the sound of a gunshot ringing out over the campgrounds. I guess she found the snake.

Camp Coconut Bra

C-dog, Britt, Nicole, and Dimitri were sharing one tent; Nick, Rachel, Olivia, and Steve in another. Nick and Allison had their own tent, as did Chrissy and Chris. I’m riding solo in a 2-man tent by the fire.

I set up my tent, then the slackline, and then finally my hammock between the trees. It’s a beautiful day.

“Oh, Steve’s here! I’m going to go get him” says Chrissy. Steve got a ride down to the campsite through a Craigslist rideshare, and miraculously made it down here in good time. He rode with a woman who had a weak grasp on the English language, and shared the backseat with a smelly shiftless fisherman trying to find work. He literally ‘missed the boat’.

“I kept the window down, he stunk. I kept alternating between being cold, and having the window up and smelling this guy. I’d rather freeze than smell that guy.” laughed Steve.

Jonny lit up the charcoal stove, and Alison busted out our dinner for the night. Ziploc bags of pre-cooked veggies, sausages, and meatballs. It was a grab a wooden skewer and create your own shish-ka-bob kind of meal. It’s delicious.

I’m many beers deep at this point. I started drinking as soon as we started unloading, and the pace has been swift. Rachel busts out a game of Jenga, and it doesn’t take long for people to get interested.

It’s Dimitri, Britt, Rachel, Max, and me at first. A bit of a debate breaks out on if you’re able to use both hands, or if you are allowed to touch other pieces. The sun begins to set on the crew, and the beers keep flowing. Some attempts to slackline are made.

A crude map of the campground

Someone rips a paper bag in half and proclaims that we’re playing ‘pizza box’. “So you flip a coin onto the surface, and then do whatever the rule it lands in says what to do. If It’s a blank space, you get to make up a rule”. At first there aren’t many rules, but soon nearly every space of the ‘box’ is filled.

“Boys Dance” was a pretty memorable one, all the boys had to dance. Shotgun a beer, girls dance, coconut bra, or the mini-game “Thumper” were also pretty great ones. My Thumpers symbol was doing the dab. It gets too dark to read the board, so I bust out my lantern.

“Hey! Where did you find the lantern?” says Chrissy incredulously. It turns out that this cool lantern I found in the house was one of Chrissy’s forgotten items when she moved out a few months ago.

I’m wearing a coconut bra over my clothes, my punishment for flipping the coin on the coconut bra square. The stars are so beautiful out, and I’m playing with my super strong green laser, shining it up into the stars. There’s some serious sounds of nature coming out from near the pond. “Fucking bullfrogs” says C-dog.

***

I don’t know what time it is, but I’m laying in my sleeping bag now, getting ready to sleep. I can hear a funny conversation going on in the tent next to mine about first memories, something about wearing spaghetti straps to pre-school and being sent home. I drift off to the sounds of nature and giggly young adults.

Mendocino Magic I was originally published on RUT-IS-UP

[ciathyzareposts]

Missed Classic 75: Earthquake – San Francisco 1906 (1981) – Introduction

by Will Moczarski

The 1906 San Francisco earthquake hit the famous Northern Californian town 113 years ago on April 18 with a magnitude of nearly 8. Almost 3000 people died in the event and over 80 percent of the city were destroyed. It remains one of the biggest natural disasters in California’s history to this day. This particular historic event marks the setting of Jyym Pearson’s third adventure game for Adventure International which also served as the fourth and final OtherVenture for the company. It also marks a significant if temporary departure from the gothic horror and science-fiction settings of Pearson’s previous two games – a trend he followed with Saigon: The Final Days the same year in a joint effort with his wife Robyn. Introduction: Setting the Stage

Adventure International sure played up the realism in their marketing efforts for Earthquake – San Francisco 1906. “CAN YOU SURVIVE!?!”, they ask you before introducing the setting: “On April 19, 1906 at 5:18 a.m., one of the most violent earthquakes of modern times decimated metropolitan San Francisco.” Wikipedia thinks it took place one day and six minutes earlier, though, and is hardly alone with that. This is especially odd as Jyym Pearson’s “finest Other Venture to date” was, according to the same description, “[p]ainstakingly researched with close attention to detail and historical accuracy[.]” For comparison: the calendar in the first room of the game simply tells you that it’s April 1906. I’m not here to nitpick, however, but rather to set the stage for what the game was probably meant to be in a world of bare-hands dragon slaying and sunken underground empires: an alternative. No, it’s not realistic in the strictest sense of the world but it tries to use a historical event as a backdrop for its in-game atmosphere. In 1981, this was a rather new thing. More quotes from the description: “The city’s remains are awash with flame; buildings burn and crumble, and death’s dark sentry stands watch over all.” All of this is true – the game does a good job of evoking the air of disaster through its well-written descriptions. I’m still not sure that I’m okay with that, however, and I’ll try to tell you why.

Although the historic background spells ‘serious game’ and it works remarkably well as a marker of distinction in the text adventure scene of the early 1980s, it also seems to put quite some responsibility on the young programmer’s shoulders. A natural disaster with a death toll this high surely seems a courageous choice for the setting of a game. The plot somehow underlines this (potential) discrepancy as you start the game in a hotel room before the earthquake and subsequently experience the disaster firsthand. However, your primary agenda is to get rid of your debts because else your wife will be killed by thugs. You will proceed to do this by any means necessary, and although your motivation is nothing less than the prevention of a potential personal tragedy this makes you walk the ruined streets of San Francisco in April 1906 rather selfishly, taking note of the burning houses and the people dying around you, saving the occasional small child from one of those burning buildings but otherwise you remain strangely uninvolved. I have to say that although the game is fun (so far) I had to get this out of the way first even if it means jumping ahead. As much as I have to commend Jyym Pearson for trying to strive for realism in a time of mostly D&D settings, the premise is not really thought through. I’ll try to judge the game on its merits regardless but in a realistic setting like this I am inclined to compare my actions in the gameworld to reality more than usual – and I have already had to bribe one soldier with a gold watch I found in the rubble and shoot another one point-blank. If this is meant to represent the anarchy and turmoil after a natural disaster, I’m not sure if it’s a hundred percent consistent. But let us go back to the beginning of the story and I’ll try and put you in a position to judge for yourselves…

The first hour of gameplay

I start out in a plush hotel room. There is a closed door to the east and a wad of bills is the only visible item. On the dresser, I find an envelope with a letter in it. It says “Deliver the money today.. Portman Hotel Oakland.. or your wife dies.” It looks like this is my main quest. Let’s see how it turns out. I am probably not inside the Portman Hotel yet but I don’t know much about my surroundings yet. The “money” as notated on the wad of bills seems to be thousands of dollars. How will I be able to turn up such a magnificent sum in such a short time?

The calendar on the wall is surprisingly sparse. “Its 1906” [sic!] is all it says. Well, the title kind of gave that away already. I note that there is no cute little picture on the right side of the screen this time. Looks like it’s going to be zero points in the S rating already, game.

To the south, there is my bedroom suite with a large bed. Looking out my bedroom window, I can see Telegraph Hill. The bed has obviously been slept in but since this is not a detective adventure I don’t know what to do with this information. Pushing the bed reveals a crowbar. Unfortunately, I can’t find a use for it: it’s no good for opening the window nor for opening the door. I play a little guess-the-verb until there’s a tremendous earthquake causing the hotel to collapse. I am lying half buried in rubble but seem to be among the lucky ones who survived. What an opening!

In-game graphics are saved for after the earthquake.

Now there’s also a picture of some partially destroyed buildings on the right side of the screen. The game proper has only begun. Pushing the beam with the crowbar lets me escape from my predicament. I am now standing in a wrecked hotel, and I quickly learn that once more you have to examine everything as meticulously as possible. Looking at the walls (!) reveals a handgun. I pick it up but find my way blocked to the north, east and west. The only exit – a door apparently intact – lies to the south. Beyond the door there’s a smashed fruit stand. There is an apple but the owner shoots me at point blank when I pick it up and wait for just one turn. Wow, Downtown San Francisco must have been a tough spot in 1906! The game is pretty lenient when it comes to restarting, though, and I can start over inside the wrecked hotel just after the earthquake.

This time I try to talk to the owner, and he says that I have to pay for the apple if I want it. How do I go about that with no penny to my name and a wad of bills worth thousands of dollars? It could not be as simple as… or could it? “Pay owner” works. The trigger-happy citizen thanks be and tells me to be careful because “the soldiers are shooting looters.” Are they now!

Moving along to the south, I find myself on “once beautiful Fremont Ave.” which is now only a pile of rubble. I can climb that pile but do not find anything by looking at it. This seems suspicious, so I look, listen, feel and smell a few more times before calling it quits. To the east, there is a grand opera house which is described as intact. When I attempt to enter it, a second quake occurs and the opera house lies in ruins, too. It is now only crushed masonry which reveals nothing upon closer examination.

With nothing left to do, I go back to the hotel where I find that the eastern wall has fallen and is now forming a mountain of bricks. Heading up there leads me to the foot of a stone stairway where I encounter a soldier with a rifle. He tells me that martial law has been declared and he won’t let me pass – he’s serious about it, too. After my past experience on Traam it’s not past me to try and shoot the soldier with my newly-found handgun but the game only tells me that I am “too kind.” That’s obviously not the right solution. I can’t show the soldier anything, and dropping my items does not trigger anything either. Attempting to bribe him makes me tell me that if he was found with my cash he’d be shot. That sounds like a hint. What could I offer him besides cash?

With nothing else to do, I decide to investigate all that rubble lying around once again. Digging in the rubble turns out to be the solution, and I find a gold watch buried in the 20 foot pile that once was Fremont Avenue. The same treatment works for the masonry that used to be the stairway leading up to the grand opera house. I find an iron box there which is locked. Once again, the crowbar is no help at all. However, I think I know what that gold watch is for. Although I desperately need the cash I could sell it for, I need to bribe that soldier first. He takes the watch and I can now move on to Telegraph Hill where I can see many fires and a locked iron gate to the east.

Two locks and no key make Earthquake a dull game. However, there’s a hidden exit to the south leading me into a narrow side street. Looking reveals nothing new but listening now lets me perceive a child’s voice crying from above. When I look up, his father pleads with me to save his child because his arm is broken. Without hesitation I climb up to the second floor window, grab the small child and climb back down. The father thanks me, takes the child and leaves. While I would think that this is a reward in itself, I’m still playing an adventure game here! Fortunately, the child drops a gold key which I can pick up. It’s the wrong key for the iron gate but maybe it’s the right one for the iron box.

Of course it is. I swap the gold key for a silver key and head back to the iron gate which I can now unlock. This leads me to the crest of another hill. Below me, the shattered city burns. I can see the bay from there, and soldiers start fires hoping to contain the blaze. Moving east, there’s a steep street but a burning building blocks my way. The heat is terrific, and this screen only goes to show that it pays to use all of the words from the descriptions in this game. Looking at the street reveals a manhole. I can lift its cover to enter a storm drain but this seems to be a hideout for a later event or something. Maybe it’s even a maze. Nothing changes when I move around, and I don’t find any other locations.

I try some more exits from the other locations in case I’ve missed something on my first walkabout. It’s a bit of a nuisance that I have to unlock the iron gate every time. South of the narrow side street where I rescued the small child from the burning building I find another exit I have previously overlooked. This is a dead end but when I look suddenly I am buried beneath a collapsed building. At first I think that I’ve found a deathtrap but I can actually still interact with the parser. It tells me that it’s dark and I’m buried but maybe someone will hear me. Shouting does the trick and a voice from above tells me “I hear you..” A soldier digs me out and then runs after a looter, leaving me alone in the narrow street. I look at the rubble again and find that the street is full of lumber, and I can even pick up some of it when I look at the lumber once more. Unfortunately, this would exceed my inventory limit of six items. I decide to get rid of the crowbar as it was of no use to me howsoever. And I’ve decided to turn this into a little game for those who read the introduction all the way to the ending: Apart from guessing the final score, you can guess whether I will need the crowbar to finish the game or not. I’ll make a random decision among those who were right and award them ten extra CAPs. How does that sound?

Session time: 1 hr Total time: 1 hr

Note Regarding Spoilers and Companion Assist Points: There’s a set of rules regarding spoilers and companion assist points. Please read it here before making any comments that could be considered a spoiler in any way. The short of it is that no CAPs will be given for hints or spoilers given in advance of me requiring one. As this is an introduction post, it’s an opportunity for readers to bet 10 CAPs (only if they already have them) that I won’t be able to solve a puzzle without putting in an official Request for Assistance: remember to use ROT13 for betting. If you get it right, you will be rewarded with 20 CAPs in return. It’s also your chance to predict what the final rating will be for the game. Voters can predict whatever score they want, regardless of whether someone else has already chosen it. All correct (or nearest) votes will go into a draw.

Med Systems Marathon Overview:

(a) 1980 Summary : (b) Reality Ends (1980) (c) Rat’s Revenge / Deathmaze 5000 (1980) (d) Labyrinth (1980) (e) Asylum (1981) (f) Microworld (1981)

Jyym & Robyn Pearson Mini-Marathon Overview: (a) Curse of Crowley Manor (b) Escape from Traam (1981)

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-75-earthquake-san-francisco-1906-1981-introduction/

[christianworldf]

New Post has been published on Christian Worldview Institute

New Post has been published on https://christianworldviewinstitute.com/bible-prophecies/end-time-events/book-of-revelation/two-witnesses/france-us-protests-chaos-in-cities-2-witnesses-of-revelation-11-french-revolution-prophecy/

France, US Protests & Chaos In Cities. 2 Witnesses Of Revelation 11. French Revolution & Prophecy

“France is the only nation in the world concerning which the authentic record survives, that as a nation she lifted her hand in open rebellion against the Author of the universe. Plenty of blasphemers, plenty of infidels, there have been, and still continue to be, in England, Germany, Spain, and elsewhere; but France stands apart in the world’s history as the single state which, by the decree of her Legislative Assembly, pronounced that there was no God, and of which the entire population of the capital, and a vast majority elsewhere, women as well as men, danced and sang with joy in accepting the announcement.” – Blackwood’s Magazine, November, 1870. GC 269.4

France presented also the characteristics which especially distinguished Sodom. During the Revolution there was manifest a state of moral debasement and corruption similar to that which brought destruction upon the cities of the plain. And the historian presents together the atheism and the licentiousness of France, as given in the prophecy: “Intimately connected with these laws affecting religion, was that which reduced the union of marriage – the most sacred engagement which human beings can form, and the permanence of which leads most strongly to the consolidation of society – to the state of a mere civil contract of a transitory character, which any two persons might engage in and cast loose at pleasure…. If fiends had set themselves to work to discover a mode of most effectually destroying whatever is venerable, graceful, or permanent in domestic life, and of obtaining at the same time an assurance that the mischief which it was their object to create should be perpetuated from one generation to another, they could not have invented a more effectual plan than the degradation of marriage…. Sophie Arnoult, an actress famous for the witty things she said, described the republican marriage as ‘the sacrament of adultery.'” – Scott, vol. 1, ch. 17. GC 270.1

It has been plainly presented to me that the sanitarium which you are planning to establish should be located in the most healthful place you can secure. But my warning is that of the angel that, standing in Melbourne, said in a clear, distinct voice, Establish not schools or sanitariums in the cities. In the future, cities will certainly feel the terrible results of earthquakes and fires. Cities will be destroyed by flood and by lightnings. Out of the cities, is my message at this time. Lt158-1906.1

Be assured that the call is for our people to locate miles away from the large cities. One look at San Francisco as it is today would speak to your intelligent minds, showing you the necessity of getting out of the cities. Do not establish institutions in the cities, but seek a rural location. The call is, “Come out from among them, and be ye separate.” [2 Corinthians 6:17.] The very atmosphere of the city is polluted. Let your schools be established away from the cities, where agricultural and other industries can be carried on. Lt158-1906.2

The Lord calls for His people to locate away from the cities; for in such an hour as ye think not, fire and brimstone will be rained from heaven upon these cities. Proportionate to their sins will be their visitation. When one city is destroyed, let not our people regard this matter as a light affair and think that they may, if favorable opportunity offers, build themselves homes in that same destroyed city. Lt158-1906.3

Great precautions were taken to make everything in San Francisco secure against earthquakes, floods, and fires; yet today, that great city is lying, a mass of debris. Where is there one who, seeing this, can fail to reason from cause to effect? Lt158-1906.4

A few days ago we passed by the great, costly Stanford University. Many of its buildings now lie in ruins. Lt158-1906.5

Yesterday, on our way home from Mountain View, we stopped to take a view of the destruction in San Francisco. Notwithstanding some of the buildings were of the most stable kind and were supposed to be proof against disaster, the city is a ruin. In some places the buildings are sunken into the ground. This city presents a most powerful picture of the inefficiency of human devising and human skill to withstand the carrying out of the Lord’s mandate. Lt158-1906.6

For our people to begin commercial enterprises in such a place will be to soothe the fears of those to whom they will come with the Bible message of truth. Lt158-1906.7

Let all who would understand the meaning of these things read the eleventh chapter of Revelation. Read every verse, and learn the things that are yet to take place in the cities. Read also the scenes portrayed in the eighteenth chapter of the same book. Lt158-1906.8

“And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her, My people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues.” [Verse 4.] It will not be to the credit of any who believe the word of the prophecies of this book to ignore the special indi source

[hayaisreal]

saya

xcv

San Francisco, California.

February 17th, 2017:

“We missed Valentine’s Day. Real shite couple, aren’t we?” She doesn’t seem bothered by the declaration, instead speaking matter-of-factly, the sentiment slipping from her tongue with ease. She nestles further beneath the covers, dark duvet pulled up to her ears, and he can feel her leg curl protectively around his hips. He had remembered Valentine’s Day, saw the date on his phone on Tuesday and felt immeasurably guilty for not buying her a present. Then he remembered last year and the disastrous party in London. Figured it was probably better that way anyway. Besides, her mother was in the hospital, recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Some commercialized holiday wasn’t nearly as important.

“Not shite… just unconventional,” he murmurs his reply, voice still thick with the dregs of sleep and she grunts in conformation. It’s sometime in the early morning, earlier than they’re used to, and the rays of sun slipping past her drawn curtains nearly blind him from his perch in her childhood bed. She buries her face against his neck, drawing him impossibly closer, and he can feel her breath tickle against his skin. It’s a familiar sensation that grounds him, her body heat burrowed against his own, unfeasibly warm, always, even if San Francisco in February was a lot bloody colder than Harry had been expecting. She’s still making small sounds he barely catches, whimpers and groans under her breath every time he shifts. He traces the pads of his fingers against the knobs of her spine slowly, can feel goosebumps erupt out a shiver that nearly make him grin. They’ve just woken up and she’s still half asleep but he misses her, misses her body, so much he feels like he’s gonna burst.

“Need you, love,” he adds, grabbing her waist and shifting her frame until she settles fully atop his chest. He can feel himself growing hard and stiff between his legs, poking against her stomach, and she raises an eyebrow in his direction, eyes still halfway closed.

“I guess it’s only fair since we missed Valentine’s…” she whispers, mouth against his chin. Her lips pucker against his jawline repeatedly, placing a succession of kisses against the bone. Suddenly he feels teeth - a full fledged bite right below his ear - and he struggles against a loud, resounding moan. She sucks around the puncture she made, undoubtedly leaving a purplish bruise in her wake, and he hates how much he loves it when she marks him as hers. He hates that he still feels so possessive, jealous even, especially after interacting with men from her past. He knows it’s archaic and goes against all that his mum and sister tried to teach him about relationships in his youth, but fuck, she’s his and he doesn’t care if some other bloke grew up next door to her and thinks he has a claim. The only person who gets to see Sasha like this is Harry and he wields a certain sense of pride at that.

She sits up, her thighs bracketing his, and they kiss, tongues in battle for dominance. He lets her think she has control, her palms clamping around his wrists, locking them above his head, and he nearly smiles against her lips. She shifts against him, grinding her hips down, and the sensation is nearly too much and not enough all at once. Her movements are calculated and having him aching in his pants.

He grabs her waist and flips her onto her back, situating himself between her legs. She beams at him, already panting when they kiss again, and it still never gets old, kissing her, being with her, loving her, and he doesn’t think it ever will. His fingers comb through her hair, tucking the strands away from her face, and he studies her features, the pout of her lips, the slope of her nose, the curve of her eyelashes. Every song he’s written since last year has been about her, he thinks, and even every song before that too. She’s what he spent his whole life longing for, waiting for, thinking he’d never quite grasp, especially after everything that happened. But he made it and he had her and he truly couldn’t ask for anything else. That was all he had ever dreamed of.

He’s helping her slip out of the thin, silky camisole she’d slept in when he hears noise coming from the hallway, enough sudden sound where there had been silence to halt him in his tracks. She continues kissing him, curling her tongue against his bottom lip, even after he stills, and he can feel her frown pressed against his mouth. “Harry, what the actual fuck, why aren’t you kissing me-” He shushes her gently and she draws quiet, craning her neck towards the bedroom door. There are several pairs of footsteps, and several voices too, voices he can’t quite discern, and he glances back down at Sasha to see her wince. “My parents. They’re coming back home today. Fuck!” She draws away from him and tugs her shirt over her head with a huff, leaning back against the headboard. “Goddammit, I was not fucking prepared to deal with them and… and this today. We had such a good morning-”

“Sash,” he reaches for her arm and grasps her bicep in his hold.

“I was finally going to get some dick and now they’ve ruined-”

“Sasha,” he releases more sternly, squeezing her flesh. She falls silent again, narrowing her eyes in his direction though he knows her irritation isn’t directed at him. “It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time later.”

“I am not having sex while my parents are here, Harry,” she retorts, irises locked against his in a formidable stare.

“Why not?” He counters, adjusting where he was slowly growing soft beneath the cotton of his underwear. She sighs, crossing her forearms over her chest.

“Their room is right next door! These aren’t thick walls, dude, and you can’t possibly think this is my first rodeo-”

“Okay!” He relents, holding his hands up, palms forwards in surrender. He couldn’t bare to hear about her and some high school boy… especially not Avi. “No sex while they’re here. Got it. They’ll have to slip out sometime, right?”

Sasha shrugs, reaching for a discarded pair of Harry’s Calvin Klein boxers from the floor, slipping her own feet into them. They’re far too large for her and she has to roll the band at the waist. “Dunno. But there is this secluded park not fair from here-”

He stares at her incredulously before she bursts into a fit laughter. “Oh my god, you should’ve totally seen your  fucking face!” She cries, slapping him on the arm. “Best part is, I totally do know a park-”

He swings a pillow deftly before she can stop him and lands a blow straight against her cheek.

“You’re an exhibitionist!” He chides, voice drenched in false wonder.

“No shit, ya fucking a dick!” She counters, tackling him against the mattress. “Don’t you dare kink shame me!!!”

God, he loves her.

-

Her demeanor shifts entirely as soon as she steps into her mother’s presence. Any and all signs of her previous contentment drain out of her along with the color of her face. Her sunken cheeks and ashen complexion seem all the more apparent once they leave the curtained shelter of her room, daylight hitting her square in the jaw. Her eyes are dark, as dark as he’s ever known them, but he still can’t help but to fear the depth within them. She moves into the living room, following the lull of conversation, and both her mother and father look up from their spots in the kitchen. Her mother looks healthier, skin a bit fuller, the purple and blue welts all along the side of her face nearly gone, and she stands, grasping the edge of the counter. Sasha’s father nods at the both of them and glances back down at the vegetables he’s washing in the sink. Parsley and chives. Harry can smell it from a distance.

“Sakura! Welcome home!” Her mother announces, shuffling slowly towards Sasha, gripping the countertop like a crutch. Her accent sounds thicker than Harry remembered it, though he reminds himself that she hadn’t been able to converse in English at all the last time he’d seen her. He figures this is quite the improvement. Today must be a good day.

Sasha glances tentatively back at Harry before jogging forward to meet her mother halfway, encircling her in a tight embrace. “Hi mom. How are you feeling?”

Her mother, Ayumi, glances at Harry scrutinizingly once they pull apart. “Good. Who the gaijin?”

“Tsuma!” Her father, Ichiro, scolds roaringly, the honorific echoing off the apartment’s vaulted ceilings. Harry catches Sasha wince.

“What?” Ayumi questions, dumbfounded. “He gaijin, no?”

“Sakura has a boyfriend now,” Ichiro replies curtly, slicing the fresh chives into thin rings with more skill and precision than Harry had ever seen before. He used to be a fisherman, Harry thinks. He had to be able to manipulate a kitchen knife. “We are in America. Gaijin isn’t polite to say.”

“No, it’s okay, chichi,” Sasha shrugs, addressing her father though glancing back towards Harry with a glint of her usual mischief. “Harry is a gaijin. But he’s my gaijin.”

Harry steps forward, wrapping an arm around Sakura’s waist and leaning in close to her ear. “Makes me sound like your slave or summat.”

She titters. “Definitely my slave.”

“What happened to Indian boy?” Ayumi asks, addressing Sasha again and leaning her side against a bar stool. Sasha’s eyes widen and Harry can feel his grip on her tighten. “Nice little boy next door. Satish son. What happened?”

“We’re not together anymore, mom. That was seven years ago.”

“Seven?!” Ayumi seems perplexed at the number, muttering something in Japanese as she shakes her head. “Not seven. Where is he?”

“We’re not together anymore, mom,” Sasha repeats, enunciating each syllable carefully. Harry can feel her tense beneath his hold and he doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the visible and tangible strain this is putting on her, especially since she’d been doing so much better. “I’m with Harry now. The gaijin. We’re engaged.”

Ichiro chokes on a gulp of air before glancing at Sasha with an astonished expression tacked over his face. “Engaged?” He inquires, tone elevated in pitch. “Sakura? You are engaged?”

It dawns on Harry that they’d never told her parents they were engaged. They had flown straight out to England immediately after he’d asked because of Gemma’s pregnancy. They never had the time. Somewhere in the fray, it slipped their minds. They both had forgotten.

Sasha doesn’t answer her father, only bows her head.

“Oh, she engaged to the gaijin,” Ayumi nods, smiling brightly at the two of them. She begins speaking rapid fire Japanese, and though Harry can’t understand any of what she says, her eyes, eerily similar to Sasha’s, stare right at him.

Sasha drags him towards the living room once Ayumi finishes her speech. The tension between her and her father is palatable, even if she tries to ignore it. Ichiro still hadn’t spoken another word.

“What’d your mum say to me?” Harry questions once they’re both seated together before the window, glancing down at the entire city from his perch.

“She was trying to talk to you about wedding details,” Sasha explains, staring down at her lap. “Thinks she’s in Osaka though. Wanted me to go find her old robe maker, get a kimono to wear. She thought us being engaged meant it was happening soon. That’s how they used to do it back then, I think. Waterfront wedding. She said she hoped we’d be having a waterfront wedding.”

He slings his arm around her shoulders and presses a pert kiss to her temple.

“Waterfront wedding,” he nods. “Got it.”