#i hardly noticed the lack of quotation marks

[strayloveletter]

i just finished normal people and while i am deeply attached to some of the characters… the book wasn’t as profound as i was hoping for it to be.

[stillness-in-green]

Looking at the scans of ch. 378, I'm concerned about the lack of quotation marks for the words "heroes" and "villains" that Tomura's original speech in ch. 281 (in JP ver., not ENG) had. Granted, Izuku's likely the one who's flashbacking to the speech in this ch. and, from the perspective of someone listening to it rather than reading it, it would make sense for that detail to slip by him. That, or it was a simple copy-&-paste mistake. I just hope the nuance in that speech and Tomura comes back.

I finally got a new source of raws for the older chapters, so I finally came back to this ask, and MAN, the English just got this exactly the wrong way around from the Japanese, huh?

To fill in for other readers, Shigaraki's original speech in 281 has, as @bringbestintentionwhen says, quotation marks around both the words heroes and villains, while Izuku's flashback in 378 does not. The Viz release leaves out the original quotations in the speech itself, and then puts them back in for Izuku's flashback. I will never cease being disappointed in the Viz playbook for punctuation marks, if such a playbook exists. (I would wonder if it was a disparity reflecting a volume correction or something, if it weren't for the mismatch with the more recent chapter.)

Baffling localization decisions aside, as regards the Japanese text, I could see either of your explanations being correct. Horikoshi has been known to make continuity errors before—the timeline on Rei 's hospitalization, Twice having Toga's measurements—so forgetting to break out the punctuation would hardly be the worst one. And, as you said, Deku was just hearing Shigaraki's speech, not seeing it written on the page like we were, so absent some sarcastic air quotes, he couldn't have known that Shigaraki was being all witheringly derisive about the very validity of the terms themselves.

I think either explanation is probably more likely than Horikoshi, like, consciously stripping out the nuance in such a tiny way. Even if I am largely dissatisfied with the loss of nuance represented by the possession plot in general, trying to bury some quotation marks and hope no one notices just feels petty. That's especially so given that the flashback comes just as Shigaraki has regained control of himself, so all that nuance is hopefully back on the table!

Admittedly, if I were going to be concerned about anyone's missing quotation marks, I'd point less at Deku's flashbacks and more at Shigaraki's own dialogue. He's entirely dropped them from lines like, "I am your villain," and, "That's the only thing that's going to save me, hero."

On that front, I do wonder, very much, if we're going to see Deku try to refute the categories at this point. Shigaraki's basically fully reversed his needling from USJ—there, he was trying to pull the Not So Different card; by Jakku, he'd matured far enough to explain his view of the difference with 100% certainty. Deku spent too damn much most of the story refusing to reflect on those binary, dehumanizing categorizations; now that Shigaraki is loudly claiming them, will Deku finally try and push back? Will him wanting to save Shigaraki lead him to try to "re-sort" Shigaraki or protest Shigaraki consigning himself to that label?

It's very reminiscent of Ochaco's problem with Toga—that by the time Ochaco's decided she wants to help, Toga has given up on getting that help, which leaves the kids grasping for nuance the villains no longer wish to afford them. Like Toga, Shigaraki has retained his lucidity, so I can only hope Ochaco and Deku both are going to have to work harder than e.g. Shouji getting to bounce his stale-ass Get Along Shirt rhetoric off of kaiju!Spinner's green brick abs with minimal pushback.

Thanks for the ask!

[the-normandy-and-beyond]

Though a little wary of the human thanks to the recent altercation with the last -- his mind loudly reminding him that humans stuck together, that he needed to watch his back unless he wanted to a bullet in that as well. That old survival instinct that everyone had an agenda from growing up a target on Omega never really leaving him, even in the relative peace of the Citadel-- Sidonis' high guard shifted into something more confused as he watched the woman's hand fall from her pistol and lift into the air. Humans were always so funny with all their little gestures, the "quotation marks" being one of the Turian race's favorites to have picked up, along with a passive aggressive tone when writing or speaking, that one being especially popular among the rigid higher class when sending important business emails. This gesture was rather universal, however, though the humans used it far more than any other race, or so he had noticed.

Despite being confused for a moment as to why the human was surrendering to him when Sidonis had hardly raised a talon, he remembered after a moment that it could also mean that she meant him no harm. While that had yet to be seen, the watch for danger ever present in the turian's mind (there being no way of knowing if the Talons would seek out to punish his and his mother's desertion) she had let go of her weapon and offered to help, so it might do him good to try and extend a little trust in return if he wanted to assimilate into the normal, if mundane life the Citadel provided.

Huffing out a laugh with a clack of his mandibles, Sidonis gave a slight shake of his head as he slowly lifted himself from the floor. "Didn't plan on it, my bullets are being saved for the guy who jumped me." Even with his mother's rather cushy new job, there was no way of knowing if they would ever need to run again should their past affiliations be discovered by the wrong person. Every credit could mean the difference between life and death, and Sidonis would be damned if he died in a place as squeaky and soft as the Citadel.

"Turians aren't like humans, we have a bit of hard plating here, so the bullet didn't go too deep." Giving his middle a gentle tap to prove the lack of give in the skin, Sidonis took a moment to asses the wound with a prodding of his talons before wincing in pain. "Fingers are a little sharp with the claws, though. Not good for that gentle bedside manner you other races can offer." Said with a chuckle as a hand pressed back against the wound. "Wouldn't say no to a bandage, or maybe some medigel if you got some? Just something to stop the bleeding for a bit while I track that mugger down." A pause, grey eyes flicking to the pistol at the woman's waist for a moment before meeting her own once more. "Don't suppose you'd want to help out with that too? Be some credits in it for you, along with a few as a thanks for the patch job." Nothing was free in life, after all.

"The name's Sidonis, by the way. Lantar Sidonis. Maybe you've seen me tending the bar at Chora's Den?"

@the-normandy-and-beyond (continued from x.)

Kind of incredible that the focal point of Citadel space could still play host to such dissolution.

Gunshots were a regularly occurring facet of Lizzie's life. She'd made peace with that long ago. Everyone's got a bullet for someone, these days, her drill sergeant used to say, it’s just a matter of being brave enough to fire it. The only reason she blinked at this one was because of how close it was. She was of the unfortunate opinion that if something happened near enough to her, it became her business.

Lizzie traced the periodic splashes of blue blood on the street to an alleyway, her hand resting on her own pistol, and rounded the corner to find a turian leaning back against the wall. Her hand fell away from her pistol, and she approached slowly, palms out in the universal I won't hurt you gesture.

"Hey there," she said. "Don't shoot--I'm here to help you with that fancy new breathing hole."

[sasaranurude]

not the serif font for the engstars dialogue 😭😭😭 as someone who doesnt go to enstars is the translation itself good tho?

Unfortunately it is... Exactly what you would expect from the promo material that they've been putting out so far

I was hesitant to post screenshots but it's an open beta so it's probably fine? Anyone can get it. It's probably fine. Right. I mean what is happele gonna do. C&D my tumblr. so here's some misc out-of-context screenshots

If you played Afterlife before it went down, I would say that engstars' TL quality is just a bit worse that Afterlife's was. So it's, like, understandable? And readable for the most part? But it has errors that are just impossible to ignore. And stuff that's not really an error but is just annoying and novice, like the retaining of wasei-eigo "live" when it should really be concert or show unless you're talking specifically about the game mode, and using quotation marks for stuff that we use italicized/bolded text for in typical English writing.

It lacks a lot of character and punch, too. I haven't read too far into the story, but take this exchange for example:

Hiiro's supposed to be using noticeably antiquated language here, but that hardly comes across at all. He just reads as a little overformal. Also, lol, "how lo~ve 🎵", what does that even MEAN. I'm excited and scared to see what they do with other characters' speech quirks LMAO

Overall, I guess it's... Better than nothing. It feels like the kind of thing where if you were already heavily invested, or were willing to do like a lot of the emotional work yourself (work that the writing should be doing), you could totally consume this and get invested and enjoy it. But it's nowhere near something like A3's translation, which was just a joy and a delight to read the whole way through.

[whitesparrows97]

Crossroads – Part 3

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, including fingering, a little bit of dirty talk, oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of sex toys

Word Count: 5.6K

Previous

(gif by: btsofficial on giphy.com)

You were lucky and got home in record time and threw the clothes, which seemed to be lying around everywhere, without care into your wardrobe. There wouldn’t be any time left for vacuuming, but you did the dishes as well as you could, so Jungkook didn’t think that you weren’t interested in cleanliness. 

Your apartment may not have been the tidiest, but you still made sure it was clean. Even if you could rather guess it under your clothes than actually see it. 

You wondered how the apartment could be so messy when you were at work all day. Okay, you had stayed at home last week, but that time you had actually only spent in bed and sometimes at the fridge. 

Your eyes fell on the empty pizza cartons and noodle boxes that stood next to the trash can and you pushed them a little further into the corner with your foot as you passed by. So Jungkook might not see them directly at first glance. 

On your way into the bedroom, your eyes glanced at the big clock in the hallway and your heart almost stopped. How could it have been a quarter to eight? You had hardly managed anything. 

“Oh God,” you mumbled as you saw the chaos in the last room. But the question was whether Jungkook would come to this room at all? Your thoughts wandered for a short moment to all the things that this evening could hold at the ready, but you quickly pulled yourself together again. 

Without much thinking you made your bed for the first time in probably a few weeks. You grabbed the pile of bills lying on the floor next to your little desk and stuffed it into the small chest of drawers next to your bed. You’d hate yourself for it in a few hours if you had to sort them by payment date again, but that wasn’t important now.

The loud shriek of your bell made you jump. Okay, now it was too late to do much more. On your way to the door you took a quick look at every room and were satisfied that you had done a damn good job in the short time nevertheless.

You pressed the buzzer and when you heard the front door open downstairs, your heart was beating wildly. Whether it was because of Jungkook or your marathon to clean up the apartment was not quite clear to you. Probably a mixture of both.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a slightly insecure smile. “Sorry it took longer.”

You accepted his apology with a hand movement. “No problem,” you replied and his smile was sincere this time. You’d better keep quiet about the fact that his little delay came in handy.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” Jungkook suspected, lifting up the plastic bag he was holding in one hand. You laughed quietly. You were very sure what was in it.

“I’m preheating the oven,” you said and headed towards the kitchen. You heard him follow you and you couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I’ll just put that down here,” he let you know and put the wine bottle on the small dining table that barely fit two people. 

“Thank you”, you said quietly. For a moment you stood opposite each other in silence. “Okay, I’ll pour something for us,” you broke the unpleasant silence and took two glasses out of the cupboard. Hopefully some alcohol would help loosen your vocal cords.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said and you paused for a moment while you were pouring the wine. “This tension between us right now is terrible.”

A sad smile spread across your face. “I know,” you sighed and pressed a glass into the dark-haired man’s hand. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he smiled at you and took a generous sip. 

“I’m sorry about Monday. I was just overwhelmed,” it burst out of you as you sat down at the dining table. Jungkook joined you so that you sat opposite each other. Since the table was so small, you would only need to reach over the table and you would be able to run it through his dark curls.

“I know, I know. That was stupid and thoughtless of me,” he apologized and rubbed his face with his hands. 

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t.” You were silent for a moment. “Maybe a bit surprising, but by no means stupid,” you added with a smile, which Jungkook shyly returned. “May I ask why you’re visiting Mrs. Chung?” You didn’t know if you were crossing a line, but the question was like the elephant in the room, which neither of you wanted to address, but which couldn’t stop looking at you with a commanding glare.

Jungkook hesitated briefly and you wanted to take another step back when he started talking. “To be honest, it was my parents’ idea.” You raised your eyebrows and Jungkook pushed it off with one hand movement. “I know, but they think it’s best if I talk to someone about my feelings. I don’t have so many friends I can talk to.” The last part said more towards his hands, which he had folded in his lap.

“Do you sometimes have the feeling that so many people are so… just lacking substance?” You looked at him questioningly and his head shot up. There was surprise and wonder in his eyes.

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean! You talk to them, but you know right from the first minute that you could never talk to them about serious, profound topics.“

You nodded in agreement. “They’re just stuck in their own world and hardly interested in others. As long as they are in the spotlight and in their story they are the protagonist that everyone adores.”

“Is something wrong with us?” Jungkook looked at you seriously and you had to keep the grin to yourself.

“I’m relatively sure that many people think the way we do,” you admitted and took a sip of the wine. Jungkook had good taste when it came to wine. On the other hand, you still doubted his taste in women. “I’ve only had one real relationship so far,” you started, “we met in college in our first year and were together until about a year ago. Of course we had our ups and downs, but I really thought I had met my soulmate back then.”

“What happened?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Not because you didn’t know it, but you tried to dismiss it and not let it show how much the memory still hurt sometimes. “He betrayed me for several months. I don’t know with how many, but I definitely know at least three.”

“Wow, he sounds like a real dog,” Jungkook said, disparagingly.

“I kicked him out when I found out, of course. Although his things were no longer in the apartment, I still had the feeling that he was still there. That’s why I moved here a few weeks ago and took a new job.”

Jungkook nodded understandingly. “Is that why you shut me down?“

You sighed. “For a long time it was difficult for me to rebuild trust in people. My ‘best friend’”, you made quotation marks with your fingers to illustrate your irony, “covered for him the whole time and I found out a few months ago that she was one of his affairs.”

“Ouch,” Jungkook just said. When you looked him in the eye, you could see how much he felt for you. Your heart leapt for joy and pushed the painful memories back.

“But when I saw you standing at the supermarket checkout, I just had to talk to you,” you confessed and ignored your hot cheeks, into which the blood was pouring.

“And then I yelled at you,” Jungkook laughed as he remembered.

“I wondered for the next few days what I had done wrong in the short time and few sentences,” you said with a smile on your lips as you shook your head.

“And I was upset that I had approached you like that,” Jungkook admitted. “I really thought you laughed at me when we first met.”

Your eyes widened. “That was the reason?” Jungkook nodded. “I laughed because I thought you were funny and cute. That was all.” 

“You thought I was cute?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at you slightly provocatively. How did he manage to be so insecure in one moment and totally self-confident and convinced of himself in the next? No matter how he did it, but it triggered something deep inside you and you looked shyly to the ground.

“Maybe,” you mumbled. You flinched slightly when you felt a hand on your cheek and you looked up. You could hardly concentrate on his next words when he started stroking your cheek gently with his thumb.

“When I saw you for the first time, I never thought I’d stand a chance with you,” Jungkook admitted, and his voice was nothing more than a whisper. His eyes looked at you questioningly and you noticed how his gaze once flitted briefly to your lips before they looked into your eyes again.

“Maybe you even have more than a hint of a chance,” you also whispered back and leaned slightly forward.

Jungkook understood the hint and came towards you. Shortly before your lips met, he waited a moment to give you a chance to back down if it got too much. But you had already made your decision, if not weeks ago. Even if you weren’t consciously aware of it a few days ago on the roof.

Jungkook pressed his warm lips on yours and you couldn’t suppress your sigh. It had been so long ago that you had felt so comfortable and understood. So safe.

He broke away from you again for a second, but you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back to you. You pressed your lips demandingly on his and he seemed surprised for a moment, but quickly caught on again. His other hand gently stroked your hair as you gently drove your tongue over his lips.

He understood and opened his mouth and you explored each other’s mouths. The tabletop pressed into your stomach, so much you leaned forward and reluctantly you detached yourself from Jungkook. He looked at you questioningly as you looked around the room searching. 

“The table is in the way,” you just said, and Jungkook seemed to have a solution ready. He took you by the hand, so you had to get up just to push yourself right back against the table.

You understood and jumped onto the table without further ado so that you sat on it. Jungkook acted immediately and willingly you spread your legs so that he could stand in between them. In an instant his lips were hungry for yours again and you embraced his hips with your legs.

His hand pressed you firmly against his chest and you sighed as you could finally be close to him. Your hands slid through his soft hair, over his trained shoulders and back, before you arrived at the spot where his shirt was neatly tucked into his pants. 

Impatiently you began to pull it out, only to have your hands underneath it a moment later. They glided over his abs and you moaned slightly into the kiss as Jungkook once pressed his crotch against yours in a slow, intense movement.

Despite the layers of clothing you were both still wearing, you could clearly feel his erection. At the same time you felt that your panties were most likely ruined by now, as easily as they slipped between your lower lips as you met him on his next thrust.

Now he moaned too and the noise went right between your legs. “Jungkook”, you mumbled into the kiss and started unbuttoning his shirt with closed eyes. 

His hands had also started to find their way under your top. His slightly rough fingertips left a pleasant feeling on your soft skin and you felt electrified. Like little electric shocks you gave each other energy and yet it was not enough.

You interrupted the kiss and leaned back a little to look at Jungkook. “Let’s go to my bedroom,” you said with a smile and a smile also spread on Jungkook’s face. Your eyes fell on his cheeks, which were slightly red. His hair fell lightly into his face as he held your thighs with his hands and effortlessly lifted you up. 

“Where to,” he asked as he carried you out of the kitchen. You loosened a hand from his neck, which you held tightly for support and pointed to the other end of the hall. “Okay,” he said and walked down the hall towards the bedroom. 

Your heart beat wildly as he carefully opened the door with his shoulder and carried you to the bed. Gently he laid you down on the soft blankets and as your back touched the mattress, you realized that this was really real. 

“Everything all right?” asked Jungkook, who looked at you from big brown eyes. He was lying above you, both hands supported next to your head. He loosened one hand and gently stroked your cheek, which became even warmer under his touch. 

You nodded and your head felt like cotton wool. “I’m all right,” you said once more for confirmation and a smile spread on your face, which Jungkook replied. Your gaze fell on his lips again. Nervously he bit his lower lip and you noticed that Jungkook was probably afraid that you would block him again. 

Now it was up to you to take his face in your hands and stroke his cheeks soothingly. “I want this, Jungkook,” you said and immediately you saw how a part of the tension seemed to fall off him. The words of your therapist, or rather both of your therapist, came back into your head and you noticed how right she had been. “You are the first man I have trusted in a long time. Especially on this level.” You felt the blush rising in your face as you said the next part of the sentence. “I want you, Jungkook.” 

The shame that you had felt a moment before was quickly forgotten at the sight that was offered to you after your confession. His eyes lit up as he searched your face for the last possible uncertainty and did not find it. Your eyes fell on the little dimples that you hadn’t noticed before and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

His gaze fell on your lips and he could no longer hold back. Demandingly his soft lips pressed on yours again and you had already missed the feeling in the short time span. As his tongue explored your mouth, your fingers continued to fully unbutton his half-unbuttoned shirt. With slightly shaky fingers, you pulled the white garment from his broad shoulders. With a movement of your hand you threw it on the floor next to your bed. 

With curious fingers, you brushed over his defined chest and abdominal muscles. Your fingers followed the lines of his body while your eyes remained closed. Jungkook shuddered slightly as you got your fingers close to his waistband. 

He broke away from you just to sit up lightly. You suppressed the groaning that was rising inside you as you could now feel his erection more than clearly. His hands slid under your blouse and before you knew it he had pulled it over your head and it joined his shirt on the floor. 

“God, you are so beautiful,” he breathed as his gaze wandered over your half-naked upper body. He bent down to you again and pressed his lips on your neck. He quickly found the place where you began to squirm under him, hoping for more. He drove further down your upper body, leaving a trail of fleeting kisses and intense caresses of your skin. 

When he arrived at the top of your bra and his fingers and lips worked around it, you couldn’t wait any longer. The longing for him and more closeness was too great. You reached between yourself and the mattress and opened the clasp of your bra. You took the straps off your shoulders and Jungkook took it off to put it aside as well. His gaze never left yours. 

He threw you a short smile which was a mixture of shy, sheepish, but also a bit mischievous before his lips enclosed your nipple. You took in the air in surprise and couldn’t suppress the satisfied moan. “Jungkook,” you moaned quietly as his tongue played around your hard nipple. His fingers found your other nipple and he rolled it between his thumb and index finger, eliciting another moan from you. 

You couldn’t wait any longer. Your fingers went straight to his jeans where you opened the button and pulled down the zipper. You pulled his jeans down as far as Jungkooks position would allow; which wasn’t exactly far. “Jungkookie,” you whispered, and with a ‘plop’ he loosened his mouth from your nipple and looked up to you. The cold air hit your saliva wet nipple and you suppressed a shiver.

He knew what you wanted to say and stood up from the bed. In a quick tug, he had taken off his jeans and before you could address it or take action yourself, he had stripped your pants off as well, so you were both dressed only in underwear.

You used the moment Jungkook stood in front of you to look at his trained body. You had already felt it in the kitchen and a few moments ago. But to see him standing in front of you now, each of his muscles illuminated in the dim light of your bedside lamp… your abdomen tightened in joy as your gaze glided over his six pack and his trained thighs. 

As you looked a little lower towards his black boxer shorts, you bit your lower lip a little embarrassed. His erection was clearly visible under the dark fabric. God, was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect?

You made a short, surprised shriek as Jungkook’s hands suddenly grabbed your calves and he gently pulled you in his direction with a swift jerk. Before you knew what he was up to, he had kneeled down between your legs in front of the edge of the bed. His fingers stroked upwards over your lower legs, where they stroked your thighs in circular movements. 

You felt his hot breath on the inside of your thighs as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, getting even closer to the most intimate part of your body. You breathed shakily in. “Relax,” Jungkook whispered and you sighed softly as you noticed how close he was to you. Only a few centimetres were missing.

Jungkook made his way further up and left feathery kisses on your leg along the way. When you looked down and could only see a tuft of dark hair, a grin spread across your face. You hadn’t felt so loved in a long time. And in that moment you realized that a man had never triggered such feelings in you before.

You felt desirable. Without sounding selfish, Jungkook managed that you didn’t feel completely out of place next to him.

The dark-haired man had finished his path and waited for a moment before pressing a kiss on your panties. His nose was brushing over your clothed clit, and you were slightly rearing up your upper body. 

“God, you smell incredible,” Jungkook groaned before his fingers slid under the waistband of your panties and he slowly pulled them towards your feet. How he could have so much discipline was almost incomprehensible to you. What he had told you more or less resembled your own experiences. That meant that he hadn’t had sex in a long time either. The fact that he thought of you first warmed your heart.

A moment later Jungkook was back again and embraced your thighs from below with his arms before putting his hands on them. His fingers pressed pleasantly into your skin and kept you from closing your legs again. Not that this thought would pop into your head even for a moment. 

When his tongue touched your opening, you held your breath. He ran it along it in a long movement before his lips enclosed your clit and he sucked slightly. 

Black dots already appeared behind your eyes as the knot in your abdomen tightened almost painfully and the butterflies in your belly went mad. You were afraid that they would break out of your chest right away, that’s how strong the feeling was. 

You buried one hand in his dark curls and pressed lightly against it so that he knew he shouldn’t stop. Your bedroom filled with your moans and the obscene noises caused by Jungkook’s mouth. The other arm was over your forehead while you focused on Jungkook’s tongue.

He loosened an arm that he had wrapped around your leg and inserted one of his fingers into you while his tongue continued to skilfully play around your clitoris. “Oh God, Jungkook… Please don’t stop,” you groaned as he bent his finger up and hit your G-spot oh so lightly. 

He sucked on your clit and you arched your back as he inserted another finger into you. You felt how close you were and pushed your pelvis up a bit to catch more of Jungkook’s touch. Jungkook, however, had other plans and removed his soft lips and stopped any movement with his fingers.

Surprised, you looked down between your fingers to the dark haired one who grinned mischievously at you. Your belly made a somersault as you saw the region around his mouth shining with your liquid. Your abdomen continued to contract as your gaze fell a little deeper and you saw two of his fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Why do you stop,” you breathed disappointed. Your voice was no longer capable of more. 

Slowly Jungkook pulled his fingers out of you without interrupting the eye contact and you felt how your cheeks no longer only turned red because of exertion. “I want you to come when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can’t feel anything else,” he whispered to you before pulling his fingers completely out of you. What remained was a disappointing emptiness.

Jungkook stood up from the floor and grabbed the waistband of his boxer shorts to pull them down. You didn’t see them slide onto the floor because your gaze had got caught further upwards. He wasn’t shaved, he was only trimmed as far as you could tell. But his cock was what had your full attention. 

He stood like an arrow and on his head were already drops of pleasure. You would like to do nothing more than lick them up, but Jungkook had other plans.

You sat up and stretched slightly to put one hand in his neck to pull him back onto the bed. “Let me just get a condom,” he whispered into the kiss and wanted to sit up again. 

You shook your head. “You don’t need it, I’m on the pill,” you said and a shy smile spread across his face.

“I’m clean too,” Jungkook said. “I had myself tested after my last relationship.” He put his hands next to your head on the pillow so as not to put all his weight on you.

You stroked his cheek and were amazed by his attentiveness every time. You may not have had the best comparison from your last relationship, with how your ex-boyfriend often treated you. But Jungkook showed you again and again that you could trust him. And that you could let yourself fall with him.

You smiled at each other for a moment and Jungkook pressed his lips passionately on yours again. You felt him navigate his cock towards your opening. He moved his head along your labia, spreading your fluids. You groaned into the kiss and grabbed his ass to push him closer to you and give him the signal that you were ready.

Jungkook’s lips came loose from yours and at the same time he slowly penetrated you. He had his lower lip trapped between his teeth and seemed to hold back so you could get used to his size. He fully stretched you out as he pushed further and further into you. When he was completely inside you, Jungkook paused for a moment and tried to bring his breath under control again.

“Everything okay?” he asked and you nodded. 

“You can move, Jungkookie,” you spurred him on. 

He didn’t need to be told that twice. 

Slowly he pulled himself out of you again, just to penetrate you again a moment later. When his hip collided with yours, you both groaned at the same time. His hip bones pressed with a pleasant pressure into your flesh and you knew you would feel some of it tomorrow morning.

Jungkook picked up a pleasant pace and the room was filled with the sound as your bodies met. Your muscles tightened around his cock and Jungkook once groaned deeply before pushing deep into you.

“Fuck, how can you get even tighter,” he exhaled breathlessly and laughed quietly. “Do you like the way my cock fills you out so much?” He picked up speed again as he looked into your eyes. His pupils were dilated with pleasure and the first drops of sweat were already forming on his forehead. “God, your pussy is made for my dick,” he pushed out between two thrusts.

You felt like you were in seventh heaven. Jungkook penetrated into areas and made you feel things you hadn’t felt for years, if ever. You let your hands run over his muscular back and focused on what was happening in your abdomen.

You released one hand and put two fingers on your clitoris before making circular movements. You sighed as you came towards your climax with quick steps. You closed your eyes with pleasure.

Suddenly there was a hand on your wrist which pressed your hand decisively on the pillow next to you. Surprised you opened your eyes.

“That’s my job,” Jungkook whispered as his fingers replaced yours. “Come for me, baby,” he added as you squinted your eyes and his fingers circled your clitoris. He must have bent down to you because suddenly you felt his hot breath on your skin. His soft lips pressed on your neck before he started sucking on it. 

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

You stopped your movements and let your head roll to the side when Jungkook helped you ride out your orgasm with slow movements.

You needed a moment to catch your breath again and when you opened your eyes again, Jungkook had also come to a standstill in you. He looked at you waiting, cheeks slightly reddened and his brown eyes radiated so much warmth together with his shy smile that your heartbeat accelerated again immediately.

“You are so hot when you come,” he said after a moment of silence and you rolled your eyes playfully.

He continued to lean on one hand while his other grabbed one of your thighs and put it around his hip again. You could imagine what he was going to do and you embraced his hip with the other leg and put your hands around his neck to get a better grip.

Jungkook grinned at you as he pushed his knees between your legs and could sit up easily. You were lifted slightly before he put his hands on your back and pressed you against him. The next moment it was him lying on his back and you the one sitting on him.

His hands had found their way to your hips, which he clasped with a firm grip. You supported your hands on his hard chest to find some stability.

He started guiding your hips so you could get used to a rhythm. You moaned as he penetrated deeper into you through the new position. You let your hips sink down and sighed as you felt him practically pulsate inside you. As a test you let your hips circle once and Jungkook let out a moan.

He put his feet on the mattress and the next time you moved your hips down he let his hips snap against yours. 

You were almost thrown forward by the strength, but Jungkook embraced your body with his hands and pressed you against his chest so that your upper body was lying on his. He buried a hand in your hair, through which he once stroked lovingly before making you understand that you should keep your knees up.

Again he let his hip snap powerfully up against yours, but this time your position gave you more hold. “Fuck,” you pushed out between clenched teeth. If Jungkook went on like this, you wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

But you felt how Jungkook also seemed to be close.

His movements became more erratic, uncontrolled as his cock kept penetrating you and pulling out of you again. You started to meet him with every movement and Jungkook couldn’t hold out any longer. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he murmured as he shot his sperm into you when he was buried deep inside you and that was the trigger for your second orgasm. You grabbed the blanket under you and bit into his chest so you didn’t scream out loud.

You needed a moment to catch your breath again and when you detached your mouth from his skin, you could see the bruise you had left. But you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like.

You turned your head up so that your chin rested on his chest just to see that Jungkook was already looking at you, a slight smile on your lips.

“That was…,” you needed a moment to find the right words and bring clarity to your veiled thoughts.

“Unbelievable,” Jungkook came before you and you nodded in agreement.

“Would you give me a tissue from the dresser?” You nodded your head towards your bedside table and Jungkook reached out one hand. You heard him open the drawer and before you could stop him, his eyes fell on the contents.

He gave you a mischievous side glance and pulled his eyebrow up. “That’s such a cliché, you know?” he commented laughingly on your collection of sex toys and you agreed as you realized how right he was with it. You were also glad how calm Jungkook took the situation.

“Maybe we can try them out together,” the dark-haired guy added, and your abdomen contracted at the thought.

Jungkook under you flinched slightly. “I meant another time, not right now.”

“Sorry,” you replied, somewhat embarrassed, what a big influence Jungkook’s words had on you. He handed you a tissue and a little reluctantly you moved your hips up so that he slipped out of you. Before his cum could drip onto the bed sheet, you cleaned up and threw the used tissue towards your trash can. You didn’t even try to hit it.

Jungkook spread an arm on the pillow next to him and you willingly let yourself fall to his side. He immediately pushed you closer to him with his arm and gave you a short kiss on your hair. You felt his heart still beating fast as you put your hand on his chest and the smile on your face didn’t seem to want to disappear anymore.

By now at the latest you realised that you were head over heels in love with Jeon Jungkook.

And when you lifted your head slightly and your eyes met, you knew that he felt the same way about you.

“You are so wonderful,” Jungkook said and brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Thank you,” you returned and interlocked your hand with his before putting it back on his chest.

“I could really get used to it,” he said. “To this.”

You nodded. “Me too,” you breathed. You remained silent for a moment and you listened to his regular breaths. You noticed your eyelids getting heavier and slowly closing.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” Jungkook pulled you out of your half-sleep, but you kept your eyes closed. The feeling of lying next to Jungkook and feeling his body entwined with yours was too beautiful.

“Then we’ll just call in sick tomorrow,” you said, and the approximate sleep swallowed a few of your words. Jungkook looked down at you and couldn’t resist the quiet laughter when he saw how cute you were. His gaze glided over your naked body, which you had pressed close to his, and he still wondered how he deserved such a great, incredible woman.

“Sounds like a great plan,” he replied and embraced your thigh so that he could put it over his legs and be even closer to you.

You both drifted further into half-sleep before Jungkook suddenly realized something. “Do you think the stove is preheated by now?” 

You moaned grumbling and buried your face in his chest. You wanted to do just everything else rather than stand up and take care of the stove.

“I’ll take that as an answer that you don’t want pizza?” You heard the laughter in his voice, which he had to hold back.

“Maybe tomorrow morning,” you mumbled, what made him laugh.

“I’m going to turn off the oven anyway,” Jungkook said and began to get away from you. You reluctantly let him go. You already missed his warmth when the cold air grazed your naked skin and Jungkook wasn’t there to stop it.

“But hurry,” you whispered and you weren’t sure if he had heard. 

When Jungkook pressed a kiss on your cheek and whispered a “I’ll be right back” to you, you were already asleep.

– The End ��

Hi, I hope you had as much fun reading this story as me writing it! As always, I would love to hear your thoughts, so any kind of feedback is really appreciated ♥️

[canvas-the-florist]

Meeting Strawberry

Warnings: ducks, swearing, physical violence, attempted murder

Summary: Mous illegally obtains a pet and the conundrums that come with that. The italics in quotation marks indicates sign language. The S.A.F.E acronym was the original title of The Charlotte.

Word Count: 2435

-

A breathe in. There was a loud bang against the window. Mous sat up in their bed to get a better look but it helped nothing. If they wanted to see anything they would have to get up from the warm covers. Almost worth it to just go back to sleep. They hardly got any as it was. Another thump hit the window and they furrowed their eyebrows. Mous got up, not bothering to put on their prosthetic leg and reached the window. It was still too dark to see.

Maybe… With a little struggling, Mous got the window open and stuck their head out, their mop of hair started following the wind. They still couldn’t find a- Mous fell to the floor as something hit their face at great speeds. It was squawking and Mous sort of felt like joining it. After the creature was off their face they realized it was a duck. This duck woke them up at 4 AM to achieve what exactly? Mous rolled their eyes and picked it up, attempting to throw it out before realizing something. There was something wrong with his wing. They had no intent or want to care for this bird but Mous wasn’t heartless. So, they carefully picked up the bird and realized it should go outside, for at least the night. Mous put on their leg lazily and walked through the apartment, trying not to wake their evil roommate.

Once reaching the small balcony of failed dreams, the duck was placed there. Mous stood for a few seconds, wondering if they should give it a blanket or cushion, and settled on making a small bed out of an old raggy blanket they found. The duck seemed content and so Mous was as well. They had school tomorrow so attempted to get a little more sleep in. 

There was no rest for Mous Harringburg that night. They made their coffee and checked in on the bird. It was squawking and angry. Or perhaps hungry. Mous didn’t know how to take care of this stupid duck and google wasn’t helping that much. They scheduled a check up with an aviary vet (even though their wallet cried over it) and that would be happening in two days. Until then, they would have to keep this duck away from their landlord and their evil roommate. So, Mous placed a strawberry on the ground of their balcony and took a sip of their coffee. It felt too early for this. It also felt like they should give this duck a name. 

Out of boredom and pure lack of imagination, they chose the title for this duck. “Strawberry.” And this was a big deal too. This was the first time Mous had verbally said something to this duck, surprising the hell out of her, and Mous absolutely avoided talking at any possible moment. Selective mutism or just hatred for their power’s downsides? The world will never know, but the narrator will. 

Strawberry finished up her food and squawked at Mous, demanding no. Mous raised their eyebrow, tempted to laugh and went on their phone to find anything remotely healthy that they had in the house to feed a duck. 

-

What happened next was an accident.   

Mous didn’t mean to lie to the vet about owning Strawberry. It just seemed easier to pretend that a friend gave them a duck. The two days past and Mous was starting to get attached to it. And besides, with their track record, illegally obtaining a duck wasn’t that bad. AT least, compared to the arson they had helped their friend get away with. They didn’t have a spotless record by any means but now they have a duck. And that’s what really matters. Mous drove home with Strawberry on their lap, only stopping once to buy things necessary to take care of a duck for real this time. Their Evil Roommate might be a bit pissed at the blatant disregard for the no pet rules in their apartment but… Strawberry would grow on her eventually. Strawberries are resilient motherfuckers. 

They decided to climb into the apartment via the fire escape. Luckily everyone in this crummy and falling apart building had day jobs to eventually leave as soon as possible. Mous opened their window and placed Strawberry down delicately. They didn’t notice until they entered the room itself that their Evil Roommate was staring right at them with an unimpressed look. Fuck.

“Harringburg,” She sighed, rubbing her temples with exhaustion before crossing her arms. “Out of all the shit you do, how to fuck do you think I’m okay with a duck in our house?”

Mous picked up Strawberry quickly, making her squawk in an annoyed manner. They let out a nervous chuckle to match their Evil Roommate’s tired groan. Mous moved to talk, albeit almost impossible for them to hold a complete sentence, but their roommate stopped them by taking the duck out of their arms and placing her on the ground again. Strawberry started wandering off while Mous looked increasingly more worried about the whole situation.

“Mous, I know that you have this really weird bias against me but you have to tell me when big things like this happen. You can’t just bring a duck home one day without communicating to me about it first, alright? I won’t force you to get rid of it but next time I swear, I need to know these things.” Mous nodded and signed an apology. “So… Does it have a name? Can I help in any way?”

So without thinking, well that wasn’t entirely true because Mous’s thoughts were always racing and they were constantly thinking of basically everything they could… Without hesitation, Mous started signing all about Strawberry. Quickly, the two realized they had to find that duck to make sure she stays out of trouble. But Mous told their roommate the basics of what they’ve learned. The two agreed to hide this duck together in the apartment after seeing that Strawberry was asleep on Mous’s bed. And for a split second, Mous almost considered that their evil roommate wasn’t actually that bad. 

-

    Strawberry didn’t cause any incidents for about… Two months. Mous and Evil Roommate had their routines. Evil Roommate worked during the day and had day classes while Mous worked nights while having a mostly online presence in their classes. They both had weekends off during the day and it turned out that one weekend the balance was thrown off. 

    Their neighbor had made a noise complaint. Most likely because of either Strawberry or Mous’s broken roomba they refused to part with. Mous was lounging on the couch with Strawberry on their lap when their roommate had barged in after work. The door slammed while their roommate looked at the two with something resembling fear. Mous sat up and placed Strawberry next to them despite her quacks of protest. Evil Roommate then went on to say that there was a 24 hour notice on their door for an inspection check.

    So that’s how Mous ended up bringing Strawberry to work… Which probably would’ve been fine if they had like any other job. 

    You see, Mous worked in the rebellion, hired by The Owl. They were doing this for a number of reasons but long story short, it’s fucking difficult to murder some business associate with a duck in your backpack. Especially when your duck seems to like your arch nemesis. Mous put some cucumber pieces in the backpack to hopefully keep Strawberry busy while they broke into a mansion with their coworkers. Wolf raised an eyebrow and gestured to Mous’s backpack, seeing as they didn’t usually carry one. 

    “My roommate wanted me to be safe. Probably put a tracker on it because she’s evil.” Mous signed with an eye roll to show they weren’t serious. “Let’s just get this over with, I have a paper due in five hours that I haven’t started yet.”

    Wolf burnt three sides of a window and pushed it open. Lion climbed through and helped Mous through too. Wolf made a leap and fell into Mous’s backpack, which let out a pained noise from Mous and a quack from the backpack. Wolf furrowed his eyebrows and went to unzip it, only for his hand to be caught. 

    “Can you guys stop fooling around, we’ve got an asshole to kill.” Lion reprimanded. Wolf retracted his hand and walked over to the door hesitantly. Mous snuck a carrot out of their lab coat pocket and slipped it into the bag as a silent apology. Lion looked out into the hall and hissed, bringing herself back into the room. “There’s SAFE personnel here, shit.” She looked back at the two behind her. “Catnip, how do you feel about distracting your arch-nemesis while I bother the tall one?”

Before Mous could respond Wolf cut in. “Actually, can I talk to the big guy? I’m very distracting.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lion nodded. Then, she shifted to look like the SAFE officer, Fox. They smiled, cracked their knuckles and adjusted their hijab a little before stepping out of the room. Lion gave the big guy a panicked look and mouthed ‘help’ to him. The personnel furrowed his eyebrows and stepped forward to see what the issue was. Apparently, it was Wolf holding a gun to their back. The SAFE officer widened his eyes as he recognized him immediately. He seemed, slightly betrayed. Mous wasn’t paying too much attention, but walked out calmly while the others were having a very dramatic conversation. They rolled their eyes at the antics and kept walking down the hall, looking around almost out of boredom. Strawberry probably didn’t like the backpack, but she was being pretty calm. She had mellowed out in the months she had lived in an apartment but… Mous was getting a little worried for her. So, they took off their backpack and set it on the ground. They started to unzip it just as someone yelled.

“It’s you!” 

Mous flinched while looking up to see, Mousetrap, their worst enemy and greatest rival. They let an unimpressed sigh and stood up, leaving the bag on the ground. It looked like they had to fight in front of Mous’s bird baby. Oh well. They waved slowly and gestured around, as if to ask what Mousetrap was up to in this very tall building. 

“I was hired, Catnip.” She huffed, looking like she was ready to punch the fuck out of Mous. “So, I’m making the assumption you want to kill my employer.”

She was answered with a noncommittal shrug. He wouldn’t die if he complied to what Mous wanted, if he could figure out what that was. It was sort of hard to have banter with a villain who doesn’t speak. Normally, villains were none for their long monologues, and trust me, Mous really wanted to do that, but the two got by with what they had. A fight that usually left with one of them having to rebuy their disguise. 

This time, it was going to be both of them. Mousetrap threw the first punch, which Mous blocked with their arm. They immediately knew that it was going to bruise. It's a little hard to avoid that when your nemesis has super strength. Mous ducked down to hit Mousetrap’s stomach, which knocked her back against the floor to ceiling windows that lined the hallway. Mousetrap looked to see a small crack in the glass let out a sigh. Mous stood back up the moment Mousetrap rammed into them and pushed the both of them into the opposite wall. The only action Mous decided to make was a petty one. They reached out and grabbed Mousetrap’s ID card clipped on her shirt, snapping it in half. 

“What the hell, Catnip?!” Mousetrap backed off of Mous and looked at her ID card laying on the ground. She turned back, to continue speaking but then a familiar beak bit at her legs. Mousetrap tried to kick off the duck but Mous lifted up her leg before that could happen. The SAFE agent lost her balance and fell to the floor, and made eye contact with the duck her nemesis just protected. Mousetrap looked between the two, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, it’s always a weird ass job with you, huh?”

    Mous sneered and picked up Strawberry in a protective embrace. “Strawberry.”

    “Is.. that…?” Mousetrap paused and gave a small gesture. “Your duck? Strawberry?”

    She received a nod. Their fight was thrown off of it’s usual course and the two weren’t sure what to do. This wasn’t how most of their fights ended. Typically, it would end with someone actually winning. But, you know, sometimes there’s a cute duck that takes the attention in the end. That’s not anyone’s fault.

    Mous used this time to put Strawberry back into their backpack to keep her safe. Then, made direct eye contact with their foe, walking backwards to the target. Mousetrap just kind of watched, frozen in her spot as she wasn’t sure what to do.

    It took until her nemesis was completely out of the room that Mousetrap had even realized what just happened.

-

    When Mous got home it was about 5 AM. They let Strawberry loose in a small part of a park before coming back. Strawberry was annoyed at Mous but still followed them around as if she had nothing better to do. The apartment was sparkling when they came back and saw their roommate passed out on the floor. Mous rolled their eyes and set up Strawberry’s pen in the living room to keep her off of the woman on the ground. Mous took of their lab coat and gloves, along with their tie. The last thing that Mous needed to hide was their goggles, which glinted slightly in the moonlight. After Mous was all cleaned up from their job, aside from the multiple new bruises, they went back to their roommate.

    She was heavier than Mous could carry, which didn’t say much, but they managed to get her into her room without Evil Roommate waking up. Mous let out a sigh of relief and saw their roommate on the bed. Must’ve been a long day for the both of them.

    Mous let her sleep and left the room. They let out Strawberry and got out her bed, which would be on the floor of Mous’s room tonight. The room was calmer even as the sun finally started to rise again. Cars became more and more frequent as Mous became deeper and deeper into their sleep.

[thesweetblossoms]

A Ship Called Repose

Thoughts on Space

The differences in between living in a big or a small space, impacts the quality of life, the ability to generate ideas, to encumber happiness, to design imaginary or real worlds, and is the three dimensional stage to play out the rapidly flickering scenes in ones life.

It is in our bespoke covens, nests, tree scraping lofts, Connecticut colonials or gargantuan cloud kissing condos, where we find replenishment, sanctuary and respite between the daily hustles, or where we bind ourselves to our sun bleached and white cotton sheeted beds to heal, or where we wander carelessly into the garden to pick roses, dahlias and sunflowers.

Our home is also the location of our most frequently visited chair, in which we lounge to read, or watch film, or to sip tea, to write poetry, or to carelessly surrender to intense reveries. It is our private corner of the world, a well deserved, personal, protected cavern, that we are given fleeting, yet certain time to create; to draw, write, design, research, dance, paint, craft or more.

Perhaps, it is with this knowledge, that I often notice, that the brightest, shimmeringly awakened and unrepentantly positive people, are the ones that are unequivocal determined, focused and hellbent on creating happiness in whatever space that may find themselves dwelling within. They are unopposed to tiny quarters in a hive of a city, with spatial possibilities limited to a single pair of shoes or a lone pot, or they may be unalterably content with a suburban semi detached Spanish colonial townhouse with many rooms and a southwestern sunset facing balcony, or, they may be well aware of their fortune to live in a minuscule Parisian flat with a dainty crystal and tapered candle lit chandelier, black and white marble tiled floors, large silver decanters filled with old garden roses by a plum pink velvet settee and French windows left open to receive bare breezes perfumed with magnolias, or even, they may call a Cadogan Lane London attic room with piles of robin eggs blue linen and gilt edged books, a scraped cherry wood writing desk by the window, a canopy bed, a English tea and Italian coffee station, their home. For as long as we are surrounded by space, often, with a few entities that enhance it, for myself, a blue apothecary vase with a single christening gown white cosmos blossom, a cornflower blue and white striped wool blanket, a Japanese misty blue ceramic cup with Earl Gray tea, a smattering of flickering votive candles, the company of candid palos verdes, date palms, and saguaro, with their slumbering frames, struck by decanting silver, from the mid November waxing gibbous moon that falls like a prayer over the desert. It is a sanctuary.

A Ship Called Repose

I recently learned of an U.S hospital ship named Repose, it is where, the elderly mothers of one my co-workers served as a nurse during the Korean War. The practice of naming ships, is an emotional, elegant and imaginative art. It consists of infusing planks of wood, steel, cotton sails, twine, and netting, with a personality, a thought, a memory, a vision, a dream or an idea. There is a mysterious transmission of energy when one names an inanimate object, imprinting a particular charm, through the names meaning, symbolism or poetic nuances. The way something is addressed, influences its adventures, demeanor and personality, as it sails through treacherous mists, mischievous icebergs, and restless plates under the sea.

Saving A Life

Isn’t it amazing how a friend could save a life? For example, a friend could call up at a random time in the afternoon and ask to meet up to hang out and drink coffee, cajoling one into accepting the invitation at the cost of changing an original plan, only to find out later, that the spontaneous meeting, caused one to be be away at the time of a monstrous and horrific attack at a public venue, thus actually, unknowingly and blessedly, rescuing their friend from a fatality. Of course, friends save one another in less dramatic scenarios; easing and tempering the stings of the everyday, like a balm of aloe upon a burn, they do it perhaps over long years of friendship, from surprise sweet 16 birthday parties at midnight, and continuing the birthday wishes, onto their second marriages, or even through newly introduced sparks of companionship, by sharing novel perspectives, cultures and worlds, or sometimes the level of nurture, is so entrenched it is barely discernible, when the friend contacts you without fail, every few months, to catch up, or to share a happy story, or it could be from a level of safety and confidence, that is the mark of friendships that are taken for granted, like the ones you know exist even if you haven’t seen them in a long time. Friends are our lifelong security blankets, encouraging ones hobbies and artistic pursuits, applauding or supporting ones life’s choices, attempting to provide sound advice on a decision, yet respecting ones actual choices. On a dull Tuesday, a friend could exonerate you from mild depression or blanketing numbness, by inviting your to their wedding, even many years after law school is over, or they could be the graceful omen enroute, coming to meet you at the airport for an afternoon, in Hong Kong during a stopover, to catch up, eat delicious Chinese food, before you fly to Vancouver, or they could saturate your scene with the rich fragments of their own, by inviting you to travel to Cambodia to visit them while they are working at the UN War Crimes tribunal, or it could be a sudden, hurriedly planned meeting at the plaza bar at the Scottsdale Princess, when you find out that they see visiting, from Bangladesh, for a three day, international cotton conference, and you are lucky enough to meet them by a blazing fire, with French 75 cocktails, phenomenal sunset over the desert backdrop, savoring varied conversations, of snippets that color the past, or updates regarding the current happinesses, goals and distractions, or dreams and ideas for the future. I realize that, like much else in reality, friendship manifests in a chain, so that when you save one friends life, you also save another.

Upon A Rocket

I believe that comparison with others steals from our own light. Noticing and tallying others accomplishments is a futile and unnecessary waste of time, acting as a distraction from our successes, fortunes, or individual circumstances. For we seldom understand the true picture of another persons struggles, motivations or habits. We often only see the casual, brilliant and lauded results, as the long effort, the heart ache, the doubts, the resilience or the ability to carry forth despite setbacks are obscured. For very few share the stories of their previous projects that barely made an impact, or the initial forays that left one disheartened, or the lack of traction even after immense numbers of hours and intense energy expanded on an activity. Without these insights, any iteration we observe or are privileged to see from the individuals highly curated, strategically placed and positive tinted news is less meaningful. Unfortunately it is a disturbing facet of human nature to try to inspire envy or jealously in others, as we often feel better about ourselves in context to other people. Yet, when we undertake any activity with an audience in mind, we are negating various rich, complex and nuanced aspects of the scene that is difficult to enjoy as well as show off at the same time. For hardly any picture, conveys the magical, hypnotic and charming qualities of an early morning sunrise, or the dark relief from the first sips of milky coffee, or the way the Sunday afternoon light transfixes and ignites the garden chrysanthemum, cosmos, tuberose, tomatillo and basil blossoms. We never know the denial of extra hours of luscious slumber, the eschewing of dark chocolate and pistachio cake, and the many sets of push ups that a dedicated person may do consistently and regularly to enhance their body image in a pair of designer skinny jeans. The will to persist, to chip away at a goal, to come up with new ways of thinking, to continue at a seemingly thankless task, or pick up again on a project, even though growth seems eons away, is not apparent, for we only see the celebrations, the accolades, the start up venture capital infusions or the news of an highly valued exit. While it is true that some aspects of competition are unfairly stacked, such as the access to capital, or a network of influential people, or the fortuitous luck of being placed upon a rocket that is about to launch off, yet, often the truest successes come from more intricate details, such as ones relentlessness, positivity, endurance, work ethic, clear sighted and undeterred vision. Therefore, rather than stew in any misgivings, or suffer the jaded tinges of envy, we should focus on the moment we have in hand, this precious, often fraught, ridiculously scant, and unfathomably poignant window of time, we realize that we are masters of our reality, that what we see or experience might be just as crazy, brilliant, mystical or awe inspiring if only we would look at it, patiently, clearly, with wonder, in a new way, with every new breath, rather than squandering our thoughts and energies on others.

Immeasurable Songs

There is a calming ritual of sitting with someone and lingering in the tonic of silence, of hearing the soft inhales and the unhurried exhales, secured in a mutual understanding and respect for a respite from conversation, a common affinity to merely sit together, yet in solitude. This level of comfort may arise over many years acquaintance, or sometimes, immediately, when one encounters a similar fan of muted worlds, a kind of understanding of the desire to seek the healing powers of the inaudible realms, or a desire to learn more from the universe sans sound.

Quotation Marks

Words take a special meaning when surrounded with quotation marks. Even the simplest words such as “magic” or “healing” or “love”, for when, these words are heralded and chaperoned by symbolic punctuation marks, these take on a new character, as if they are inexplicably more potent, as they are being used as a reference, that another mind or energy spoke, wrote or thought of them, that they are relevant, mulled, contemplated and considered. Sometimes, the most beautiful thoughts and ideas have already been thought, and repeated again, they take on different nuances, shades of meanings and emotional responses.

Hummingbird Winged

It is the Sunday before thanksgiving, I am sitting in my petite balcony garden after yoga, the approaching midnight sky is the color of spilled indigo ink with distant, snowy clouds streaked like a seven layer chai. The chorus line of palms are at rest after a tender, hummingbird winged, gold nectar and emerald leaf flecked autumn day. Higher among the fading lines of mist, the moon reveals tipsy constellations, it is the aftermath of contented leisure hours, twining with the mysterious, faint visions of the future. Below me, in the quad the floating lunar emanations, remain steadfast, upon the frothing, atmospheric sea, while its cache of silver, traces poems, charms and shadows across the grass, lantana and oak trees rooted beneath. My votive candle’s, fragile, gale tempered filaments, scintillates the dreaming marigolds, sweet alyssum and jasmine plants, engulfing me in a minty, sand edged, bittersweet, hopeful and potent perfume, yet, I feel the sinister edge of darkness, the unwelcoming palos verdes, eucalyptus and mesquite trees, and I pull my thick blanket higher over me.

Walk Through Walls

Darling reader, anything that you find challenging or difficult, instead of lingering on the seemingly impenetrable impediments, tell yourself you see only possibility and accomplishment, turn the obstacles into a heady challenge, savor the strenuous activity, or the long winding, uphill, and peril ridden road, as acknowledging the barriers let’s us see them clearly, while extinguishing them increases our confidence and skill.

Scattering Petals

Why would the universe follow any other rulebook for life? For living entities follow certain, inherent, irrevocable and immutable rules. It is like a flower, after it is planted, it becomes a seedling, it buds, it produces nectar, it makes new seeds, then in dies. But what stage are we at the current moment, within the universe as well as in own animation?

Mermaid Totem

My love for seashells began when my I was a serious, curious and extroverted little girl. The bewitchment carries itself past the invisible channels of palm swept, seaweed sprayed and dune grass steeped memories; of the lavender, peach and marigold painted sea at Coz Bazaar beach on the Bay of Bengal, opening to the Indian Ocean, to the mists and mountains soaring above Hong Kong bay and to the many picnics to the azure, eucalyptus crowned Sydney beaches near our Darling Point home during my childhood years in Australia. But, the obsession cantors past early reminisces, streaming closer to the present moment, from experiencing the sand, flotsam and stone gilted shore at many of the edges, curves, points, coves and angles, where the earth conspires with the sea. These precipices into watery realms, include, Costa Rica, Montauk, Martha’s Vineyard, Bali, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Marbella, Cassis, Malibu and many more. Yet, currently living in the Arizona desert, the distinct energy of the sea is richly palpable, perhaps as being situated in a land that was once the ocean bed, itself, embedded with copper, quartz, aquamarine, chollas and prickly pear cacti, adds context as well as offers faint hints to the secret, hidden possibilities, undulating unknowns and shaded mysteries of the seemingly bottomless seas. Or perhaps, because, here, between low mountain crested valleys, beneath sea level, I am ruthlessly separated from the waves, denied, even, murmuring laps, from Toronto’s Lake Ontario, Vancouvers Burrard inlet, or Manhattans East River. Therefore, the organic, tender, emotion ridden shells, seem like fragments of my soul, drifting into reality, like a slowly gliding seagull, as a tangible, barely pink, amber, lilac, spotted, striped or shaded objects. These fragile conches, pearl grazed scallops, sand dollars, cockles and junus volute shells leave no sense unturned. They transfix me upon their sight, causing me to pause, breath and notice their indelible energy, or I lift one up like I did as a little girl to my ear, to hear the wondrous rush of my blood, or the sea, for they could be the same, or I’ll stroke a piece, my preferred totem to awaken, for my emblem is unquestionably a rose and a shell, or I’ll lift one to my nose to imbibe the lingering perfume of the obscured, inimitable, hypnotic, salty, mineral and brackish composition, but on moon drunk nights meant for alchemy, enchantment and romance, I may nibble upon a fresh oyster and submerge recklessly, softly and irreversibly into Neptune’s star drowned kingdom.

Palm Fronds

While sipping down my tea hurriedly, eager to rinse, wipe and store my nebulous pink striped Paris cup in the cupboard, in order to move onto the next activity, a chamomile infused realization wanders into my mind, and I recognize how guilty, I am of moving too quickly, risking the passing of chance, predestined, or dream like elements of experience, without grasping its beauty, solace or grace. Yet, sometimes in the rush to seal deals, to create products, to appease the economy, in providing childcare, in nourishing our own homes and bodies, we unknowingly numb ourselves to those charms that linger in a space devoid of velocity. So when we are at leisure, with no motive to create, to work, to think, scheme or organize we might let our consciousness slip into different layered realms that comprise reality; our eyes might see drifts of jeweled pollen falling in a denuded, musical shower, in waves, swirls and pirouettes, laced with the future, infused with wild herb nectar and faraway gypsy songs, while backlit by copper, amber and dewy flecks of the sun, or we might notice the poetic energy, tension and unheard music, surrounding the extinguishing of a candle flame, by a moon swathed November breeze, or we might be reminded that taking a walk and cutting dove white sweet alyssum, prom dress pink snap dragons, palm fronds and a sultry bird of paradise stalk from the apartment grounds is the ideal choice among other more fruitful seeming plans, activities or intentions. Slowing down to arrange flowers, is one of the greatest joys of these often meandering, yet mostly galloping hours. Colluding with blossoms, requires, a level of calm, so as not to shock, insult, or perturb, these subtle characters, our breaths also, must match the identical level as theirs, our minds must be clear, meditative and open to appreciate the haunting loveliness of petalled whorls, the shy cups, or fussy temperaments of botanicals that linger so briefly among us. I enter spaces beyond the present when I handle flowers, perhaps a dimension, beyond or before time. My other concerns drift away, like lilacs in the early spring, while languorously deciding which of my carefully cleaned antique, ceramic and apothecary vases to fill with comfortingly heated water, then, unhurriedly deciding which leaves below the water level to strip, or which flowers to place in the heart of the bouquets, which blooms to add as a supporting cast member, or if a fern leaf is necessary as an alluring accent, next, I am unfazed by larger contexts, rooted to the earth, while considering the scene before me, deciding where to place these flower and water symphonies, by our beds, on the dining table, on the coffee table, consoles, work desk, by the sinks and more. I discover my heart with these collaborative creations with nature, these gathered translations of ecstasy from my garden, or from the terrain whereupon I currently dwell, found on atmospherically charged, romantic hikes in the desert.

My Paris Apartment

If you don’t write down what you want how ever will you get it? For there is a power of self actualization through the craft of embedding words onto a blank page, but it must be balanced with the risk of being presumptuous or arrogant, for in one bewilderingly scant life, we have far too many barriers to achieving all the dreams we might be capable of birthing. But throwing caution to the cascades of drifting clouds, my list of delicately simmering desires, include living and working with my family in Paris, or spending hours painting in a light saturated watercolor botanical studio, or traveling to outer space to see our earth hanging indolently like a drop of opal upon a scrap of ebony velvet, or to play the piano hauntingly at an ancient English country house with views of a mature and exuberant stone walled rose garden, or to eradicate poverty with new financial technologies, or to be able to defy gravity and fly over oceans, deserts, hills, caves and meadows, or to discover an edible wildflower that allows us to travel in time, or to visit hidden, secluded, gem like islands on earth and lazily swim in untainted waters, or to develop theories on consciousness, love, memory, pain and reality, to maybe buy a Bottega Veneta purse, to dance a little bit every day, or to fall deeper in love with the mystery of being alive.

Toronto in November

I returned to Toronto after an absence of nearly a year and a half, during which my memories had matured slightly, yet remained tenuous and raw, lingering in that bittersweet space time continuum of recent experiences, that slightly hazy window of closely trailing past, that appears relentlessly fresh, even though, in actuality, a couple hundred of days have passed so quietly, steadily and unalterably by. I took the train from Union Station passing King Station, the old Toronto neighborhood, where, I had lived for more than two years, the days often beginning with croissants from St Lawrence Market and capped by evening coffee and legal study sessions at the King Edward Hotel. Though my purpose for a late November excursion to Toronto, was to attend a Professional Practice and Conduct course at the Law Society of Ontario, I made use of all my precious free hours to return to a few of the places that had unfailingly enraptured, charmed and inspired me, during my time in one of Canada’s most dynamic cities. I had coffee at Fika Café, before, savoring every second in the the wild, incense smoke enfused, bohemian, gorgeously designed and free spirited ambiance at Kensington Market, I continued a food and wine oriented trip by sipped green tea and dim sum on Spadina, dined upon mesmerizingly evocative Thai food at Sabai Sabai, feasted upon, redolent, scrumptious and creamy mushroom and chicken crepes at Coquette cafe, reacquainted with the much loved and delicious lemongrass beef at Ginger and imbibed delicate coupes of Cava at Constantine at Yorkville. I stayed with my sister who cooked our mothers chicken palif recipe, appropriately substituting cranberries for raisins, medium rare steaks and salmon cakes, and plied me with bottles of sauvignon blanc, wine from nearby Niagara vineyards, and foamy, rich and frothy cappuccinos, she also made breakfast omelettes, parathas and turmeric stained potato bhajis. I also relished engorging the Law Societies tantalizing spread of incredible buttery croissants, clementine danishes, hazelnut tortes, mocha marble cakes and more with foreign barred, future Canadian barristers and solicitors. During, my visit, I also was able to indulge in my beloved Toronto pastime of lingering and reading books at Indigo, relishing the incredible evening downtown energy while, perusing books on floral design, makers and lifestyle. The sartorial elements also shaped my visit to my childhood hometown as I carefully considered and choose from the beautiful and minimal tops and dresses that my sister lent me, experimenting with her aesthetic of clean, modern, and flowy pieces from COS, bright J Crew emerald green cropped pants, Peter Pan collar shirts, a Harvard maroon wool coat, and seal gray suede boots, effectively letting me relive the persona of a Torontonian in multiple overlapping dimensions of dress, culture, food, and other lifestyle categories.

Memories of my visit to Toronto in the attenuating days of 2018, isn’t complete without mentioning the friends I met there, including coffee fueled brunches with apple cake desserts with childhood friends from our navy blue and white school uniform days, or hanging out with old friends from UofT with bubble tea or negronis, to making new friends at the Law Society course while deliberations upon exceedingly difficult, heartbreaking and perplexing conundrums regarding legal confidentially and privilege that lawyers contend with. For each friend, of many moons, or of the latest season, acts as a channel to experience the momentous and unique energy of the particular scene: the present in a prosperous North American city, with early snow, mixing with banana yellow falling leaves, sunset-pink rosebuds enrobed in frost, plant, macrame and old book lined coffee shops, people buying chips and other sundry items at Shopper Drug Mart, fusion cuisine, newly debuted ballets, concerts and basketball games, each frame enriched by the people that comprise the town.

Yoga In The Dark

One of the session in my legal course, mentioned above, dealt with wellness in the legal profession. The speaker delivered an interesting, persuasive and informational speech regarding, not only the resources available for lawyers who are undergoing stress, depression, anxiety, burnout or substance abuse, but also the paramount importance of availing help, advice, counseling or support at times of need, confusion, pain or despair. No matter the line of work we are engaged in, any individual may benefit from learning more about strategies for wellness and how to navigate uncertain, unhappy or turbulent times. Speaking to people about issues helps us to understand our experiences and to consider the elements with altered perspectives, to make the situation clearer for ourselves, to alleviate the burden of carrying ones problems alone, for as the lecturer mentioned, ones own mind can be an exceedingly dangerous place. One may also find a measure of solace in reading about another’s similar experience, such as those who might have survived divorce, a terrorist attack, an earthquake or other shattering calamity. But, beyond recognizing certain patterns in the way that misfortune is meted out, or finding recommendations and sound advice on how to circumnavigate the chilly roads that lay before us, when we discover that people before us have mirrored our sorrows, or fell off a stony precipice of poisonous emotions, have floundered upon unrelenting waves of doubt and uncertainty, or have found themselves in dire rapidly disintegrating sandbars, yet somehow, in some fashion, in the infinite mercy of random tears in the fabric of reality, surmounted and risen above their unsavory circumstances, we realize we are seldom alone in the darkness, and not for very long. Thus, I often seek the kind words endowed to us in the past, those paragraphs, acting as healing lifelines, reminding us to meditate, to drink forget me not ceramic blue cups of chamomile tea, to bathe in the stars unhampered by the third quarter moon, to design a floral arrangement of brilliant orange marigolds in a copper cup, to read about the paintings in The Wallace Collection, to do yoga in a palo santo, sound bathed and houseplant infused room, to make banana, vanilla, cinnamon, almond and kefir smoothies, to sleep and mediate in abundance, to dance a tiny bit every day, to play with children, to allot hours for a carrot seed oil facial, bright manicures and pedicures, and a dry brush followed by homemade rose coconut oil, or to talk walks to collect sprigs of eucalyptus while breathing pure, untainted air.

Tuberose Perfume

When I lean in to imbibe the heavenly, poetic, soft, scintillating, ecstatic, blissful, romantic and haunting perfume of a quietly unfurling tuberose in my petite balcony garden, I linger into a separate, singular, alchemical, hidden and unimaginably gorgeous realm within reality. It is merging of senses, but an exoneration from the barriers of our own, limited human understanding of time and space. For drowning deeper into the stellar performance of a tuberose in the late morning on the first day of December, in the desert, awakens, enlightens and mesmerizes us. We learn about drama, about healing, about the palliatives offered from nature, in its simple, pure, elegant, graceful, sensitive, hypnotic and intelligent spell.

I wish I could offer you the perfume or the tuberose blooming under the waning crescent moon, it is an exceedingly peaceful time and we are lucky.

[liloelsagranger]

I want to know what love is (Rocketshipping-oneshot)

Attention: Since English is not my mothertongue you might find some spelling mistakes or syntax errors. I apologize in advance. My mothertongue is Swiss-German so I normally imagine a sentence in German and try to translate it as well as possible into English, sometimes there is a lack of vocabulary or I don't find a match or the appropriate idiom but I want to improve my English and become a better writer. Another thing I want to make clear is that I use „..." to introduce direct speech! „ are not commas but the German quotation marks, just to avoid confusion.

Attention Number 2: I didn’t dare to post this story on fanfiction.net, because I was really insecure about the topic. Please, tell me what you think. I searched for descriptions of thunderstorms and tried to improve my writing and I also borrowed some ideas (I just want to mention that I’m not a thief, those were phrases that are offered freely on the internet to embellish stories).

 I want to know what love is

 Jessie, James and Meowth noticed the upcoming of a nasty thunderstorm. Grim clouds darkened the cocktail-blue sky, billowing from the east. The first thunder was to be heard a long way off. The air grew heavy and the humidity pressed down. It was suffocating. The first raindrops slapped down onto the blades of grass. Team Rocket sought protection under a large oak tree. Jessie pressed her body against the massive trunk. She shivered not only from cold but she was also trembling with fear. James observed his best friend huddling together.

 „I don’t think this is a safe place to abide. They always told us to stay away from trees during a thunderstorm. They’re often the tallest objects and make great targets for lightning strikes“, James informed. Jessie flashed her eyes at him.

 „Can’t you just shut up, James“, her voice had a hysterical undertone. She buried her face in her hands, flinching every time a thunderbolt struck several miles away. Her uniform was soaked, she tried to calm down by holding her breath for a few seconds and exhaling slowly. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. Meowth and James were concerned about their team mate. Jessie seemed to get into a froth. She was shaking all over, a shrill scream escaped her mouth once a streak of hot silver split the sky. James went down on his knees, squeezing Jessie’s arm. She was petrified with terror and winced.

 „Is everything okay with you?“, he asked, almost whispering. Jessie shook her head.

 „We need to find a safe shelter“, she muttered. James gave her a leg-up and the trio started to run along the grain field. The clouds speat out their beads of water. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. Water accumulated and formed giant puddles. Their boots were drenched. James almost slipped, but was able to keep his balance. A flash lit the dark leaden sky, Jessie gave a jump she could hear the rumble of thunder. They were on the lookout for a hut or a cave when suddenly Meowth spotted a scarlet red roof standing out of the grey mass. James raised his hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the piercing raindrops. He could see broken windows in the distance. They reached the manor, an imposing building, but the paint would flake off and most of it was barricated with logs. The shutters clattered, they were rotten and worn away. „Let’s climb through one of those windows“, he suggested while seizing Jessie’s arm. She was completely disoriented, trying to shut out the howling sounds from her ears. Meowth took over the lead. He jumped on the sill and attempted to open up the window pane. It broke open and he entered the building, closely followed by his team mates. James helped Jessie squashing into the room, he pushed her gently.

Jessie fell on the floor, lacerating her shin.

 „Can’t you look what you’re doing?“, she snapped at James. Her friend tried to dig his way through the small inlet and landed with a loud bang on top of her. He bobbed up immediately and apologized for his inconvenient landing. Jessie stood up and loaded her leg, she was still shaky and edgy from before. She had always been terribly afraid of thunderstorms and rememberd a childhood memory. Jessie was not older than five back then, a storm had been raging for hours. She considered the area under her bed as the ideal hiding place. Her stuffed animals kept her company. She closed her eyes, trying to suppress the harsh lights from outside. She whipmered and called after her mother, but no one was there to console her.

 Jessie didn’t notice that James and Meowth were already exploring the old manor. They walked down the corridor that led to another unlit room at the end of the building. Meowth searched for the light switch and pressed the button. A lamp on the ceiling shed light onto a bordeaux leather sofa. There was a small wooden tea table and several oil paintings hanging on the walls. One of the pictures showed an affluent elderly man with a monocle and a twirly moustache. He gazed at them with a withering look as if he knew that they had entered his home without permission. James swallowed hard, the picture had a magical attraction. The squire seemed to be a trusted person, but he couldn’t remember the face for the life of him. „Why are you staring at this oilpainting?“, Jessie had snuck up from behind and scared James to such an extent that he almost lept out of his skin.

 „Did you calm down?“, he asked. Jessie nodded, her eyes wandering to the open fireplace. „We can’t go outside, so why don’t we stay here and lit a cosy and warming fire instead?“, she proposed. James didn’t feel good about using the fireplace, sitting down on the couch and make themselves comfortable and feel like at home. At home was slightly exaggerated, they hardly ever had a roof over their heads. Team Rocket was used to sleep outside under the worst conditions. They never had beds, not even blankets or pillows. They were hardened and had learned to freeze and get a touch of the jitters.

Meowth agreed with Jessie’s idea. He grasped at a chair and broke it in pieces, Jessie helped him out and took a hold of a table leg in the corner of what appeared to be the parlor. James cringed. He was always included in Jessie’s and Meowth’s illegal acts and he didn’t dare to contradict them. Jessie was intimidating and Meowth’s scratch was highly effective, he had no alternative but to support his team mates.

 He piled the kindling loosely in the middle of the fireplace and set it aflame. James slowly blew some air onto the fire, adding firewood on top. Jessie observed her friend and was visibly amazed that he knew the art of lighting fires. The wood crackled in the flames and it gradually began to heat up the entire room. Jessie, James and Meowth nestled in front of the fireplace.

 „Do we have some leftovers?“, Jessie wondered and searched through their backpack. She fished some cookies and a couple of marshmallows out of the bag. „Let’s share them equitably“, she handed James and Meowth a chocolate-chip cookie and put the marshmallows on the skewers. Meowth refused to eat his portion. He was exhausted and informed his friends that he would go to sleep very soon. He scouted for a basket or a giant pillow and was soon beyond their range of vision.

 Jessie and James remained silent for a moment. They were listening to the crackling of the fire. James gnawed at his cookie and observed the flames licking higher. Jessie looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was lost in thoughts. James was probably thinking about his Cacnea and how he had given his beloved Pokémon to Gardenia. It had been severe and anguishing for him. He wasn’t good at saying goodbye to his companions. James cared for his Pokémon, he always asked them to accompany him, it was his unique and pleasant nature that attracted them. The shock was deeply felt. Jessie had something on her mind and she thought it was time to address the problem. She slipped a bit closer to James, so near that she could feel him breathing. „James, would you kiss me?“, she asked. James turned to her, his eyes went wide in surprise. „What?“, he was flabbergasted. The normally so overbearing and furious Jessie asked him to kiss her. He pulled the blankets over his head and recoiled in fear.

 „What’s that sudden change of mind?“, he wondered, still distancing himself from Jessie. „Only a few hours ago, you told me to shut up and scolded me for my clumsy behaviour“, his voice trembled.

 Jessie sighed deeply. „James, I reached a certain age, I’m not the youngest person and I’m aware of that. It’s just that I don’t want to die as a spinster“, she was exceedingly open and honest towards James, almost vulnerable. „Oh, never mind. I’m sure one day, you’ll find the right partner“, he tried to liven up his friend, but Jessie kept a straight face. „I know I’ve been talking about true love and romance recently. That I imagine my partner and future husband to be strong, creative and a self-starter, but what if that man is you?“, she presumed.

 „Why me?“, James wondered. He felt more than uncomfortable to talk about feelings and love, not least because he had made some really bad experiences in the past.

 „I don’t know. Maybe, because I can trust you and because you know me better than anyone else on this planet“, she assumed. „Besides, I’ve never met someone so attentive and caring like you. The way you treat your Pokémon, Meowth and me. You’re always solicitous and courteous. I think you would go through fire and water for us, especially for me“, her usually wayward and egoistic manner turned into a friendly and sincere attitude.

 „Remember the time we headed toward a Team Rocket Headquarters, when it suddenly exploded? You hold onto my arms to console me. We were pressed against each other. When Giovanni asked what we wanted, I hid behind you and grabbed onto your arm. Yes, I felt safe with you protecting me and I still do today“, she tried to unbosom herself to James even though it was harder than she had originally thought. James was very restrained, he didn’t want to reciprocate her feelings.

 „Let me ask you again, would you kiss me?“, she repeated her question. She knew that James could rebuff her and it wouldn’t be the first time in her life. Many men had exploited her and her feelings that’s why she appeared to be coldhearted and withdrawn at times.

 James didn’t dare to look into her sapphire-blue eyes. Not only was he shy and sheepish, he was afraid of commitment and didn’t want to rush his fences.

 „I can’t, Jessie, excuse me“, he replied. „It has nothing to do with you, it’s just that I can’t imagine having a relationship with a woman, not after experiencing such horrible days with my ex-fiancée“, he whispered, still not ready to affront Jessie.

 His best friend could relate to him. Jessiebelle was a boiler. She was domineering and presumptous, but James had never told Jessie what happened between him and his fiancée.

 „James, don’t you think it’s time to open up and tell me what happened?“, she wondered.

 James was sitting on the couch, his arms around his knees, fragile and deathly pale.

 „It was terrible. When we were eighteen, I dated her for about two months. Back then, I had feelings for this woman, I think I was blinded by love. She was graceful and gorgeous, but she used to hit me with her whip when I didn’t obey her stupid orders. She wanted to change me, change my whole personality, she didn’t like the way I ate, drank or walked, she forbid me busying myself with Growlithe. I couldn’t bear it any longer and wanted to run away and leave my old life behind, but she followed me at every turn. Do you remember when you asked me about that scar on my right leg? That was a whiplash at full tilt, she tried to retain me, I slipped and...“, James didn’t have the chance to complete his sentence, Jessie kissed his cheek so he would turn his head her way. She was decisive and confident. She tilted her head to the left, leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his mouth.

 James was taken by surprise. He could feel her warm and soft lips on his.

The kiss sent shock waves throughout his body. He closed his eyes to heighten the intimacy. They let the kiss last for a few seconds. Then he slowly drew his lips away, keeping them close enough to Jessie’s so that they were almost touching. Jessie dared to open her eyes in order to see how James would react. She had finally done it. He stared at her, completely dazed and then he cupped her face and gently pulled her towards himself, kissing her again. This time it had a touch of passionate devotion, it was more intense. Jessie ran her hands through his lavender mane, he caressed her cheeks.

 James had almost forgotten about his devastating past. He felt a strong bond between him and Jessie, he was happy that she acknowledged him, quirks and all. She accepted his sometimes blundering behaviour. Their lips parted.

 „So, what do you say?“, Jessie wanted to know.

 „That was...good?“, James felt slightly insecure. „I kinda liked it, it was different from what I knew“, he admitted.

 „Then we should probably maintain it“, both chuckled. Jessie’s fear of rejection was unfounded and James would eventually be able to combat his fear of commitment.

 „You think like a...couple?“, he asked shyly.

 „I don’t know, maybe one day, we both will be ready“, Jessie replied wishfully with a gleam of hope.

 „You think so?“

 „Mhm���, Jessie faced away from James, hiding her embarrassment.

 „What about Meowth? Are we going to tell him about the kiss?“, James asked. „Well, I think he already suspected that there’s more between us than an amicable friendship“, Jessie replied.

 „Yes, and it was high dime for both of you do recognize each other’s feelings“, Meowth said, leaning against the fireplace.

 THE END