#had these books on my bookshelf for god knows how many years

[scholliski]

finally reading The Raven Cycle series, see yall on the other end 😞

[xoluvx]

love potion; b.eilish

smut

it was only supposed to be a silly love position. one conjured from an old spell book that'd been collecting dust on your bookshelf. it'd been collecting dust for a reason. you'd vowed to never touch it. to never look at it, but after hundreds of pleas from your best friend.. she had managed to convince you. how else could she get the boy that she so desperately loved to love her back? so you did the one thing you promised yourself to never do again .. magic.

you crafted the position with little practice. still rusty from years of relinquishing all control of your magical abilities. the final thing sat on the counter.. little did you know that your roommate, unbeknownst to you, would be the one to chug that love position like it was lemonade and later lock eyes with you setting a series of events in motion that you had not prepared for.

"how do you feel?" you were concerned and rightfully so. it'd been so long since you attempted to do magic that you weren't sure if the potion even worked. that something you had warned your best friend about and she'd assured you she'd happily take that risk. you, on the other hand, were not prepared to take that risk .. especially not with your roommate out of all people. the mysterious blue eyed girl that just so happened to be in desperate need of a roommate. the girl who constantly locked herself in her room, the only sounds leaking through the cracks being the beautiful melodies she created.

now she was standing closer than she ever had before. she was breathing your air. she was searching your face. you weren't sure for what. you weren't sure if she was trying to memorize the curves and dips of your face or if she was confused as to why you were so concerned for her all of a sudden.

when she leaned in you froze. you felt like a deer caught in headlights. you felt your heart beating in your throat. she smelt so good. you bet she tasted even better. she was pushing herself off the counter. the potion working almost instantly or was she just fucking with you? oh my god. your head was spinning. she was so close you could quite literally feel the sparks still twinkling with magic. you were breathing heavy. your hands cupping your thighs then closing into fists unsure of what to do with yourself as she leaned in. as her nose brushed yours. as her hands touched your hips and lips ghosted over yours.

it'd be rude to deprive her of this when you were the reason for it. the position would wear off. that's how it always worked. that's why that book had never left your bookshelf. your magic never lasted. it was always a fluke .. so then what was the harm in wrapping your arms around her shoulders and pressing your body against hers? what was the harm in your lips clashing together in a desperate kiss?

you hadn't uttered more than a few sentences the entire time you lived together and now her tongue was down your throat and her hands were on your ass and you were breathing so heavily as she flipped your bodies until your back hit the counter. she was strong. she was so fucking strong and you wondered how many things you didn't know about her and how many things you wanted to learn as she lifted your body sitting you on the counter.

you hummed leaning down to reconnect your lips. she wedged herself between your legs. hands burning on your thighs as they slid under your shorts. you were leaning down holding her face as you kissed so desperately it was like neither of you had kissed anyone in months. for you this was totally a reality. for her you wished it was also true because you just felt so special right now. even if it was the magic was working .. well .. it's magic.

her fingers tapped along your skin until they were dangerously close to your underwear. the action so intimate it scared you. even if you really wanted this. it'd been so long since you'd been touched like this, but you had to remind yourself this wasn't real. she was under a spell. your spell. it was your spell and that was enough to convince you to let her hand slid your underwear to the side. fingers gliding between your folds. you tossed your head back leaning into her touch. your fingers tugging at her hair as her mouth cupped your nipple over your tank top. teeth sinking into your sensitive bud.

the temperature in that apartment was unbearable. quickly spiking as your bodies found the perfect rhythm. fingers pumping. hips swaying. lips desperate on your sweaty skin. you tried holding on to something more than just her hair as she lips brushed down your torso until her tongue replaced her fingers. rotating on your clit. lips suctioning. tongue flicking. nose pressing on your sensitive core as she ate you alive. the magic sparked on her tongue as stars flashed behind your lids.

your breathing was heavy as you chanted her name like an incantation. hoping to keep it like this. longing to know what else she could do with her tongue. with her fingers. with her lips. you just knew her strap was big. oh my god.. what were you thinking? you tugged on her hair pulling her head up. her eyes wild and hungry matching your own desperate gaze. your chests moved in sync heavily breathing and gasping for air until your lips were touching again.

you moaned in her mouth tasting yourself on her tongue as she gripped your waist practically leaning over the counter pushing you back. you held your weight with one arm as you gripped her face and your tongues sloppily touched. you explored every inch of each other's mouths as she moved her body grinding on you. pinning you on that counter like she'd been starved and you were her first and only meal.

in a moanful agreement you stumbled to her room. in any other situation, you would've been fascinated and nosy but you were too busy undressing each other for you to notice any of your surroundings. too busy shoving your tongue down her throat. the only thing you noticed was that yes, her strap was massive and you swallowed every last inch and she worked it like a pro and you really wondered why you'd never approached her before and if you knew that your stupid magic would've been the reason for all this, you would've pulled that spell book out sooner because you'd never in your life felt such pleasure. it was overbearing and blinding.

she was thrusting into you so gloriously. touching you so sweetly. moaning in your ear. gripping your waist. kissing your neck. this.. this was magic. it lasted for what seemed hours. days even. you didn't have your phone. she didn't have a clock. you'd lost track of time tangled in her sheets. no talking. just heavy breathing and sighs and whimpers and moans and rustling sheets and skin slapping and sparks.

until you couldn't feel your bodies. until you were one cuddled so close you knew it'd physically hurt to separate. you were the first to go. with heavy eyes you slid off the bed too thirsty to stay next to her. just one glass of water and you'd be back in bed with her.

you dragged your feet along the floor, naked body navigating down the hall until you reached the fridge. you felt so weak. all energy drained from your body. you opened the fridge door. the light almost blinding as you shielding your face reaching for something that'd satisfy the snackish feeling in your tummy.

then you stopped in your tracks; hand shaking as you reached for the mason jar. you didn't have to closely examine it to know that it was the love potion. the synergy seeped through your fingertips. vibrations strong. indicating the presence of your magic.

she hadn't drank the potion and if she hadn't how could you explain the events that'd unraveled in the last few hours.. how could you explain the sudden shift in energy earlier that day? how could you explain the way her hands felt on your body and the selfish feeling of wanting them all over again? you couldn't possibly.

the only thing you could do was close the fridge. dump the potion down the drain and make your way back to her room. a room you wanted to grow familiar with. a room that held the most intimate parts of her and she'd let you in. no, she'd carried you in.

somehow she'd invited you in and you hadn't needed magic for it.. though you did create more than a few magical sparks on her bed.

diaween 2024 💜

[noellawrites]

Distance - dark!Sonny Carisi x sibling!reader

summary: your big brother Sonny comes home to visit and finds he has a lot to catch up on.

warnings: incest (kissing and touching), forced touching

notes: reader is gender neutral/no gendered terms, although ‘sweetheart’, ‘kid’, ‘kiddo’ and ‘baby’ are all used as terms of endearment.

requested by and written for @rafaslittleboy ❤️

----

You usually kept your distance from your older brother. It was easy most of the time. He had a busy job as an ADA, a girlfriend (whom you didn't like) and her kids in the mix, not to mention the two of you living in completely different boroughs.

Deep down, there was one reason above all others, though. You both loved each other... in a way that wasn't normal for siblings.

When the holidays came around, it was unavoidable. Your siblings brought their kids or step-kids or husbands or partners and you were always just there, alone, listening to your Italian-American family get louder and louder as the night progressed.

And today was definitely not an exception.

The whole family was home celebrating your parents’ wedding anniversary. It was different from the typical family holidays where everyone and their own families came, sharing sleeping bags and blow up mattresses.

"(y/n), are there any boys or girls we should know about?” Gina’s voice cut through the room as the rest of your sisters and your brother turned around to watch your reaction closely. Your family was quite protective and romantic relationships were no exception. You and Bella still talk about how much you hate Amanda behind her back.

“No, I’m not really into the dating scene. I’m too busy with school and work,” you explain. Everyone nods in understanding and goes back to their conversations. All but Sonny, whose gaze lingers on you for another moment.

After dinner, you take a seat on the couch next to your niece, Mia, who was basically the same age as you so it felt weird calling her your niece. Amanda's kids somehow still hadn't run out of energy, so they were running around the kitchen and dining room. You said a silent prayer for your ma's china cabinet.

You nodded along deftly to the discussion, which had recently descended into an argument about having a family vacation next summer. It got hard to fake your interest after a while, so you decided to excuse yourself and go upstairs.

Checking your phone, you realized how late it was. You hoped to god that Amanda wouldn't be staying over. The last time that happened, you had to sleep on the couch while her two daughters got to sleep in your bed.

You crept into Sonny's childhood room, relics of his past still gracing the walls. Old sports trophies, stuffed animals, old toys.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a large book peeking out of his bookshelf. You remembered this vividly: it was one of the Carisi family photo albums.

You inch it off of the shelf and carry it over to Sonny's bed, sitting down on it while flipping open the photo book.

You skimmed through pictures of him as an altar server at your family's church, school field trips, pictures from the Police Academy, old girlfriends, family vacations.

And then you came to the page. The very first image was your mother holding her small bump, looking old and exhausted, pregnant at almost fifty. A twenty-three year old Sonny with his arms around her. You kept flipping. A messy-haired Sonny holding his little infant sibling and looking so proud.

You thought looking through the photos would help you realize how wrong you felt, but the lump in your throat grew. There were so many more photos of you and Sonny.

“Hey kid, what’cha doin’?”

Your heart banged in your chest and you turned your head, seeing your brother leaning against the doorframe.

“I-I’m sorry, Sonny—“ you said, hurriedly shutting the photo album and setting it on the floor.

“Nah, don’t be sorry. I look at ‘em sometimes too, feels like just yesterday I was holdin’ ‘ya in my arms,” he smiles, walking over and sitting next to you on his bed.

Your bodies draw into each other and you instinctively lean into his chest. There was something so special about your big brother, so much comfort in the fact that he’s always been there for you.

“I’m happy ‘ya home, kiddo. I miss seein’ ‘ya,” he smiles, ruffling your hair.

“I miss seeing you too. It’s not the same, living without my big brother,” you sigh.

You look up at your brother. Since he’d been promoted to detective and sent to Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit, you’ve noticed changes in him.

“I miss 'ya too, but it won't be too bad, me livin' in Manhattan. 'Ya always welcome to come 'n stay, kiddo," he says, and you nod, giving him a tight smile.

As you lean back into his chest, you feel his fingers tracing lower, lingering past your waist, in a move disguised as comfort.

"'Ya body's changed a lot since I last saw 'ya. Lookin' real good, kid. Really growin' up," he hums.

A soft blush rises up your cheeks. “That’s what happens when you’re too busy with work to come visit us,” you nudge playfully.

“I’m gonna change that, kiddo. I’m gonna be ‘round here a lot more, gonna make sure I ain’t missin’ nothin’,” he reassures.

You turn and press your face into the soft fabric of Sonny’s dress shirt, inhaling the smell of his woodsy cologne and bergamot laundry detergent.

“Good,” you smile, reaching a finger up to play with one of his shirt buttons.

Sonny looks down at your soothed expression as you toy with his shirt playfully. After stealing a quick glance at the door, he looks down and puts his hand over yours.

“Why don’t we take this off, hm?” he asks, starting to unbutton his shirt from the top.

Now, it was your turn to look at the door, still slightly ajar. Your heart pounded at the thought of one of your family members catching you in such a compromising situation with your brother.

“Go close it, sweetheart,” he orders, placing his hand on your cheek softly. You nod and mechanically obey.

You turn back around to see your big brother leaned back against the headboard, smirking, shirt open to expose his chest and slightly rounded stomach.

“Whatever this is… we shouldn’t be doing it,” you say hesitantly.

“Nah it’ll be our lil’ secret, kiddo. Been wantin’ ‘ya like this f’so long,” he groans.

You glance back to the door, even though you know you’ve already shut and locked it.

All of a sudden, your brother’s hand pulls you onto the bed and into his lap, laughing at your skittishness.

“Kiddo, ain’t nobody gonna hear us, alright? Banged plenty’a chicks in this room ‘n my day,” he laughs, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Jus’ gotta focus on me, hm?”

You lay across his parted legs, both of you shimmying further down the bed so you could lay comfortably on top of him. You could feel his hardening member against your legs and it made you want to curl up and turn away from him.

But you couldn’t.

Your big brother leans up slightly, placing his soft lips on yours. He deepens the kiss and you let out an accidental, blissful moan.

“‘Ya like that, baby?” he asks, amused, one eyebrow cocked.

You lean up to meet his lips and he sticks his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss, touching all over your body as you focus on him.

“Sonny, n-no—“ you gasp, moving his hand away from where it rested, toying with the band of your underwear with his long fingers.

“‘S okay baby, gonna feel good,” he promises, fingers dancing below the elastic and touching your nerve-filled skin.

As Sonny sticks a finger inside your hole, you try to hide your pained, uncomfortable wince.

Sonny leans into your lips again, kissing you passionately and leading you into a heated makeout session. You weren’t quite sure what to do except follow his lead, so you push your hand down to his crotch and rub at his hard cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” he hisses, mouth hanging open.

“Is th-this okay?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“God, kiddo, yeah, ‘s more than okay,” he moans, throwing his head back.

You’re not sure what else to do, so you lean down and give him a few soft kisses on his long, open neck.

You’d seen people do that on TV and it seemed to make them feel good, so you figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Pull ‘ma cock out, sweetheart,” he breathes, guiding your fingers to his pants zipper.

“Sonny, I-I don’t know if—“

“C’mon, sweetheart. ‘Ya wanna make ‘ya big brotha’ feel good, right? Wanna make me happy?” he urges.

“I-I guess so,” you say, voice wavering.

As you feel around to grab his cock and pull it out of his boxers, you hear your mom’s voice ring out from downstairs.

“Dessert is ready, everyone!” she calls, immediately causing an uproar from Amanda’s rowdy children and Bella’s little one that you could hear all the way upstairs.

You and Sonny looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Go downstairs, kid. I gotta take care’a this first. ‘N later, we’ll have s’more fun,” he promises, giving you a dizzying kiss on the lips before nudging you off the bed.

You turn and walk to the door, your brother behind you jerking his cock off with labored breaths.

You opened the door, walked through and closed it behind you, knowing nothing would ever be the same between you.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wing - THIRTY

*slaps trio* these bitches can fit soooo much repressed trauma

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

“Keep or toss?” Bradley held up the box set of the Twilight series. Jake let out a snort of laughter and you tossed the empty trash bag you were holding in his direction.

“Keep,” you announced proudly. “I noticed some empty spaces on your bookshelf, Tex. Time to get you educated.”

The blond rolled his eyes but he accepted the books from Bradley and placed them in the partially filled cardboard box at his feet. Since the three of you had the weekend off, the boys decided it was the perfect time to move you fully into Jake’s place. But there were two stipulations.

One, you wouldn’t lift a finger and simply direct them on what you wanted to keep, sell, or toss.

Two, you would wear a mask because they deemed your old apartment simply unacceptable conditions for their girl and baby.

So, here you sat in a little foldable lawn chair that Jake brought along because “my god, Angel, that couch probably has its own ecosystem” and a KN95 mask strapped over your face while two giant men puttered around your shitty little apartment, motivated by the promise of sex and Wingstop after this. Your hand unconsciously found its way to rest against the soft swell of your stomach through the thin fabric of your shirt as you wondered how exactly your life turned into this.

Your lease still had four months to go but one call from Sofia to your landlord found you free from rent payments, Her threat of legal action and tenant rights scared him straight and you were eternally grateful for your friend. Since your lease ended at the end of the month now, the boys wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“I think this is the last of it,” Bradley announced. You moved to get up from your chair and both men surged forward to steady you.

“Fucking hell, boys, I still have my balance,” you huffed as you evaded their grasps in favor of checking out the apartment to make sure nothing was left behind. You couldn’t say that you would miss the place. It truly was a shithole. You had accepted it in the past, even with its shoddy locks and mold covered carpets, but now you had a baby to think about. You had a lot to think about, not just the growing little blob inside of you. You disappeared into the bedroom and Bradley took the chance to stop Jake with a warm hand around his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “About jumping you when you got home. I know you didn’t plan this.”

“It’s okay.” Jake brushed it off with a shrug but Bradley merely shook his head.

“You gotta stop that.” The brunet let go of his hand and instead grasped the back of Jake’s neck, making sure the blond looked him in the eye. “Just stop taking it. That’s not you. That’s not my Hangman. Next time I’m a dick, don’t just accept it.”

“And what about when I’m a dick?” Rooster’s hand was a steady, warm presence and Jake wanted to melt into his touch. Not many people can make him feel small but when Bradley grasped him like this and commanded him so easily, Jake welcomed the release of control.

“Pretty sure we’ve made it clear I don’t tolerate your shit.” Bradley offered him a crooked grin and Jake finally did relax. Good. They were good.

“Can you two kiss and make up now?” you asked from where you were leaning up against the doorframe.

“You’re objectifying us,” Jake declared through laughter. You shrugged and tried to appear innocent.

“If I didn’t objectify you, then I wouldn’t be standing here pregnant.” You wagged your finger at them. “And don’t lie and tell me that you don’t check out my ass every chance you get.”

Bradley’s answer to your taunt was a kiss pressed to the corner of Jake’s lips, leaving behind a tingle of beard burn and want. He still couldn’t believe he was allowed this. So many years tamping down these feelings and then hiding it behind closed doors and dim lighting in bars gave way to this euphoric yet burdensome realization that he could have this. It scared the shit out of him. His mother’s words wiggled their way to the front of his thoughts and fought for his attention. What happens when you decide you had enough of him? What would happen if the baby wasn’t his?

He didn’t want to think about it. It’s all he could think about.

“Alright, let’s get this stuff into the truck. I want wings. Do you think we should get a thirty pack?” Bradley pulled away from Jake to start grabbing at the trash bags and boxes that held your life.

“I think between the two of you, we need the fifty pack. It’s like sleeping with two garbage disposals.” You reached down to grab one of the trash bags full of clothes but Bradley swatted your hands away and pointed at the lawn chair.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest as you settled down in your chair, noticing the way his muscles flexed as he picked up two boxes with ease. Maybe being relegated to supervisor duty wasn’t so bad.

“Jake?” Your sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts and he offered you one of his typical cocky grins.

“Just thinking about how hungry I am, darlin’,” he assured you.

“For you!” Bradley called out from where the truck was parked out front. Jake chuckled and bent down to press a kiss to the top of your head before he went to grab some more boxes.

Between two naval aviators who both worked out like their lives depended on it, the truck was packed up with all of your belongings in less than half an hour. It gave you just enough time to look around and think about how everything had changed in such a short time. When you first moved to San Diego, it was on a whim. You had no plans, no job, and no friends.

Now you were pregnant, moving into your boyfriend’s place with your other boyfriend, and your phone was full of texts from people you considered not just friends, but family. Maverick texted you on the regular to see how you were doing. Amelia sent you TikToks and memes to “keep you young”. Penny was your emergency contact. Sarah had roped you into weekly visits that you wouldn’t miss for the world. Sofia and you discussed the pains of cleaning uniforms and how stubborn pilots could be.

The Dagger Squad members that were staying in California had even added you two into a group chat entitled “the Queens + their Jesters”.

You deserved this. You deserved to be happy. After so long of hearing that insidious little voice that sounded oddly like your mother telling you about how pathetic you had turned out to be, this was a chance to live a life on your own terms. You deserved this…right?

Bradley gently lowered the boxes into the bed of Jake’s truck and took a moment to breathe in the sea-salt-tinged San Diego air. In three days, he would be flying to Virginia, loading up all of his things into a U-Haul, and coming back here to settle down. Fightertown, USA was the place that ruined his family. It took his father and broke his mother. Could he really do this?

Tag List:

@mizzzpink@xoxabs88xox@dreaminglandsworld@khaylin27@loveforaugust@atarmychick007@itsmytimetoodream@krismdavis@emma8895eb@startrekfangirl@hangmandruigandmav@lunamoonbby@startrekfangirl2233@sihtricswife@jstarr86@drakelover78@abaker74@emma8895eb@hardballoonlove

[boyakishantriage]

What would be alien's reactions to battery acid. Y'know that thing with red bull marinated sour strips, energy drink plus coffee and a minimum of five beers. Read more at your own risk.

Alien: Human, I can't find the-

Human: *currently stoned*

Alien: ... What. Are you doing?

Human: seeing God.

Alien: how many?

Human: *raises one finger.*

Alien: ... Human. If my memory serves correct. It takes twenty.

Human: try a strip.

Alien: ... *processing, before taking a sour strip.*

Human: *still stoned*

Alien: *starts coughing.* WHAT IS IN THIS?

Human: that's battery acid. Marinated in red bull, put red bull into coffee. Uhm, ooh, had a gummy. And about. Hic. Five beers?

Alien: ... How did you make the marinade?

Human: fourth book, red leather.

Alien: ... it's called uni recipes.

Human: yep.

Alien: stoner pizza?

Human: fries on pizza.

Alien: ... reduce five cans of red bull, leave to cool before marinating for a minimum of three hours. Five days at maximum, because the caffeine will break down the glucose bonds?

Human: yep. Chem students are smart!

Alien: ... That's your battery acid?

Human: I'm on car acid.

Alien: ... Two cans of reduced Red Bull, 125ml per can. Reduced to 25ml put into your choice of coffee, reduce the coffee to 10ml.... Take one edible, one battery acid and the coffee concoction. Then down five beers reduced to... Half a bottle of beer. Or around one shot of tequila.

Human: *proud of themselves.*

Alien: ... I'd be horrified if I wasn't impressed.

Human: yeah, that's how I got my degree in uhh, neurology, bio chemistry and a few more Celciuses.

Alien: ... You made a recipe book and got an associates?

Human: I actually have. 27? bachelors, just from that shelf.

Alien: ... How are you-

Human: remember when I mentioned I'd figured out a way to be high and speak somewhat normally?

Alien: ... *glances at the bookshelf*

Human: give it a minute.

Alien: these are all acedemic papers. Aren't they?

Human: 1387 recipes. Times that by the number of java files on the USB that's labelled the same as the eight number of pie.

Alien: ...

Human: there's 40567 academic papers, not including the top and bottom shelves which are dictionaries, explanations and half of them have paper which explode upon contact with oxygen.

Alien: ... Most of this case is behind glass.

Human: mhm.

Alien: How did you even do this?

Human: mixture of car acid, ADHD, tunnel vision and crunching for two months.

Alien: crunching like.

Human: forgot to sleep for two months.

Alien: ...

Human: I went to hospital for about a year because of that.

Alien: I have so many questions, but I get the feeling this ain't common?

Human: my level of insane, no. Cramming for a stupid period and doing something wonderful somehow. Yes.

Alien: you're less high now huh?

Human: *making a hangover cure.* Mhmm, woke up around the time you noticed the glass.

Alien: how are you alive?

Human: good question. I don't know.

[baldursgat3]

we're slowly finishing things out here boys. companion piece to this one.

we got 4.3k more words of childhood best friend Tav (who I made a wizard because). act 3 edition this time 🎉

~*~*~

There it was: home. The city you had grown up in. How long had it been since you'd seen these streets? How many months had you been venturing across the Sword Coast with a mission to stop some gods? However long it had been, you were here now.

It was a bittersweet reunion, though. After your meeting with Gortash mere moments ago, no one was feeling particularly at ease. Wyll and Karlach in particular were half seething about the tenuous alliance you'd formed with the new archduke. You had no intention of making good on his offer, but safety from the Steel Watch was the only way you were going to get anything done.

Gale led the charge, his targets set on Sorcerous Sundries. He chatted away about the various books and baubles he'd found there over the years as you walked the busy streets.

Glancing back, you noticed your favorite vampire lagging behind the group. He stared up at the buildings and at the bushes that lined the pavement, all with stars in his eyes. They dimmed when he caught you watching him as he glanced away, awkwardly.

You slowed your pace to fall in step with him, leaning in to whisper as you walked. "You never look at me like that."

"Nonsense." He scoffed, waving a hand at you, dismissively. "Have you seen yourself after a battle? Half the time it takes all my focus not to look at you like you're my next meal."

"Half the time I am your next meal." You gently bumped your shoulder against his. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just… it's been two hundred years since I've seen these streets in the sunlight. It's all so… colorful." His gaze drifted back to a small pot of lovely blue flowers as you passed by.

It was so genuine, you couldn't help yourself. You reached down to link your fingers with his, giving his hand a soft squeeze. "Do you remember the last time we were here?"

"Oh, darling, of course I don't."

"That's all right, neither do I. Why would I have taken you to the magic trinket shop?" You tossed him a cheeky grin as he rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away.

"I can't fucking stand you, you know that?"

"I know."

"If you two are done flirting back there," Gale's voice stopped you as you both became aware of all the attention now of you. "As our intrepid leader and person with all our gold in their bag, I do believe Tav should be heading this mission."

"You just don't want to talk to Rolan." Shadowheart chided, continuing past Gale and into the magic shop.

He turned on his heel, following after her, his voice dropping to a hissed out whisper. "We don't want the person selling us things to be angry with us and I can't keep my mouth shut, you know that."

Every so often you forgot you were still on a mission. Sometimes, as you perused a bookshelf and your companions squabbled over who should get to use a certain magic item, it all felt so mundane. Like it was any other day out with some friends.

Astarion was stood beside you, flipping through a book absentmindedly as you debated whether the magical benefit of the boots you were holding outweighed the fact that they didn't really match your outfit.

"You bought me a ring here." He broke the comfortable silence between you, without looking up from the book. You glanced over at him, tilting your head and humming a curious note in response.

"I remember." He continued. "When you had first started learning magic. You brought me here and I didn't understand anything you were saying. I remember you being so excited, though."

He'd stopped turning the pages of the book, just staring at it like he was reading the memory off it's pages. "You bought me a ring, a cheap little thing, because you wanted me to feel what it was like, casting spells, and you couldn't get me to figure out how to do it without an item to help."

A wistful smile found it's way to his lips as he glanced up at you. "I'd entirely forgotten. I always kept it, you know. Even though I absolutely did not get what you felt with magic. It was a nice gift, though."

You laughed softly, reaching out to grab his hand again. "Well, I'm glad you liked it." He didn't remember much about the specifics of your past together. You couldn't blame him, he'd been through so much. Every so often though, something would trigger a memory for him.

He smiled at you warmly for a moment before pulling back to put his book away. "Don't get those boots, by the way, they're hideous."

~*~*~

It was a gorgeous night. There was a faint chill to the air that left your cheeks a bit flushed, but nothing unmanageable. It was comfortable and quiet. The stars were beautiful, twinkling like little diamonds in the sky. Perhaps you should've been a bard, with thoughts like that.

The rest of your companions had gone to bed, while you and your ice cold vampire lingered by the fire. He was laying on his side with his knees drawn up close. His head rested in your lap as your fingers brushed lazily through his curls.

Neither of you minded the silence, you just enjoyed the comfort of being next to each other. He was still pretty averse to taking your intimacy too far, not that you minded. He had plenty of reason to be and you felt no need to push it. These moments were more than enough for you. The two of you had centuries of quiet, lovely moments to make up for.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. Eventually he broke the silence, turning his head to glance up at you. "Can I ask you a… strange question?"

Well that could be literally anything. "Sure?"

He turned back to the fire, settling back in. "Do you remember what color my eyes were? I know they're red now, I've been told so many times. I've heard they're gorgeous." He drolled, sarcastically.

That wasn't exactly what you were expecting but it did melt your heart a little. You obviously knew, though you felt it was probably wise to pretend you didn't have that answer already nocked on your bow. "Oh, um…" Nailed it. "They were brown. Like a deep, cool brown." That was probably too much.

He just hummed in response, seemingly unbothered that you would remember the undertones of his eyes after two centuries. "See, I couldn't remember. I've tried to picture it but I always felt it was either brown or an icy blue. I think my mother had blue eyes like that."

"I think so." You could probably count the number of times you'd spoken to his mother since you moved out of her home at 20. You did not know the color of her eyes.

"It doesn't help, I really don't think I even know what I look like anymore. I haven't seen my own face since I became a vampire." You hadn't really thought about that, honestly. He'd mentioned being unable to see his reflection once or twice but you'd never actually grasped what that must be like for him.

"Oh. Get up, get up. Stand up, I have an idea." You gently pushed on his shoulder, getting an irritated whine in return.

"I'm comfortable."

"I know but get up."

He groaned, pushing himself off the ground with a huff as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes sparkled as you quietly muttered an incantation. Astarion tried to raise a question but was silenced as you finished the somatic component of your spell.

All of a sudden, standing in front of him, reflecting his shock, was a mirrored image of himself. Just as perfect and lovely as he was. He just stood there for a moment, staring at himself in the firelight. "Oh… Gods, do I really look that old?"

You couldn't help laughing at him softly as he reached up to touch his face. He stared intently at his copy as it mimicked his movements. "We are almost 250 years old."

"I look older than Halsin!"

"You do not. And I know you think he's gorgeous, don't even act like that's an insult."

"You never let me bitch the way I want."

"I don't let you pretend you're blind, apparently." You were so glad this went well. There had been a vague worry that he might be more upset at seeing himself as a vampire but he mostly just seemed fascinated by his features.

"Well, all I can say is gods no wonder everyone always said they were 'blood red.' Seems a little on the nose though, don't you think?"

"I think they're beautiful."

"Of course you do, you have to or I'll cry." He threw you a grin before turning back to the reflection. "Thank you, for this. I always knew supporting your studies would be useful to me some day."

You rolled your eyes at him, a warm smile lighting up your face. "I am ever at your service, my love."

~*~*~

If you were being honest, you wanted to be a little selfish. Astarion had told you enough stories of his time with Cazador that you could feel the ache to end his pathetic life deep in your bones. You knew Astarion had far more claim to the act than you did, but that didn't stop you from craving it.

It didn't help that there was a part of you that wanted to beg Astarion just to stay at camp. You would take the party and destroy Cazador without him being able to even look at your darling again, let alone hurt him.

But you also knew that wasn't what Astarion wanted or needed. He had to be there, he had to be the one to kill Cazador. Besides, ever since Raphael had told you the nature of the ritual, he'd been obsessed with the idea of stealing that power from him.

You didn't care for that aspect of things. It was a delicate subject and you knew how fragile Astarion was when it came to Cazador. You had to tread lightly every time the subject had come up.

As you stood there in front of the door to the ritual chamber, everything was coming to a head. The uncertainty of the situation gripped your heart, you had no idea what world you would be walking back into once you stepped through those doors.

Over the months you'd been together, you had gotten better at reading Astarion's body language and expressions. He was still difficult to pin down at times and, when he really didn't want to be read, it was like staring at a blank wall.

Now was one of those times. He was stiff as a board, staring at the door ahead of you all. His jaw was locked and his fists clenched so tight at his sides you could see them starting to tremble.

"We'll follow your lead." Your voice was gentle, as you covered one of his fists with both of your hands. "I'm here, I won't let him have you no matter what. We're going to destroy him."

He drew in a shaky breath, his hands stilling in your hold. "Make him suffer." Without another sound he forced the large doors open, drawing the attention of everyone gathered at this Black Mass.

After a moment of stillness that settled in the enormous chamber, Astarion began to move down the stairs. He held his shoulders squared as you followed directly behind, the rest of your party in tow.

"Can it be?" You'd never heard Cazador's voice before. You didn't expect such a slimy, petulant tone but, then again, it was so fitting for such a repulsive man. "Has our prodigal son truly returned to us?"

You watched with building pride as your love held his ground. As he spoke out of turn and insulted the man who had ruined his life. He deserved it, and you did your best to be an imposing figure behind him, though you suspected Halsin was doing a better job of it.

It wasn't until he threw a punch that you realized how dangerous this endeavor truly was. You saw how easily Cazador controlled his body, despite the parasite granting him some level of autonomy. It clearly wasn't enough as you'd hoped.

He was ripped away from you, thrown helplessly into this ritual. A countdown started, you only had a matter of moments before he would complete this ritual. You had to move. So why were your feet locked to the floor?

You stood there, staring in horror at Astarion, locked into this ritual, desperately watching you. Your mind flashed with images of him being destroyed right in front of you. The idea of losing him again, especially now that you were closer than you ever could've dreamed, it paralyzed you.

You felt someone push you forward, you heard Gale's voice. "Move!" He sent a bolt of lightning straight past you, directly into the chest of one of the creatures that fought to defend Cazador.

It was all you needed. Your mind snapped back to the present, a fire burning in your eyes as you and your party waged a bloody battle against the vampire lord. Someone had managed to pull Astarion out of the ritual, buying more time for you all to kill the monsters and bats that defended Cazador from your attacks.

You heard it before you saw it, a choked out sound as Astarion ran a blade through that vile man's chest. You watched him discorporate as he was pulled back to his coffin to regenerate.

Now that he was gone, you made quick work of the remaining threats, until the room was nearly silent. You could hear Astarion's footsteps splashing through all the blood that was spilled as he sprinted towards the coffin.

No one was doing well. It was a vicious, bloody battle that you narrowly managed to win. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Shadowheart pouring healing magic into a half dead Karlach. Gale had immediately collapsed against the nearest wall, clutching at a wound in his side. Halsin was the only one doing even remotely well and that was only because he could turn into a bear over and over. You knew this fight had wiped him of all his wild shapes, though, and he still was battered and bruised.

Astarion wasn't faring any better, but he didn't seem to care. He shoved the lid of the sarcophagus open, ripping Cazador out and throwing him to the ground. You saw a fury, a bloodlust in his eyes that you'd never seen before. It was terrifying really. He clutched the ritual dagger in his hand as he stalked towards the now pitiful looking vampire.

You didn't know what to do, honestly. You didn't know what Astarion was going to do. You watched as he threatened the man before him, as he taunted him with the idea of taking his place in the ritual.

It didn't feel great, but you felt a spark of hope in your chest when Cazador explained that the ritual would just destroy him if he tried to replace him. Maybe this would convince him he couldn't ascend.

That hope was dashed as he turned to you. "I need your help. I can use the parasite to look through your eyes, copy my scars onto him. I'll complete the ritual, then I can protect you." His eyes looked so gentle and hopeful. It was so sweet compared to what he was asking of you.

"Astarion…"

"Please. I know you think it's a bad idea but I need you to trust me. I'll be free. Powerful. Strong enough to protect you. To protect myself." He looked so desperate. "If I do this I won't ever, ever have to leave your side again. No one would be able to separate us again."

It was so rare that one could recognize a life-changing moment from within it, let alone have time to prepare. And here you were in that exact position, no more prepared than the moment you first learned what was to come. You had to respond to him and you still didn't know what you were going to do. "I… can't…"

You could see the heartbreak in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, still keeping his blade pointed towards Cazador. "My love… this is the only chance we'll ever get at this. Help me with this, we can be free forever. Together."

"Astarion, this isn't you."

"No." He hissed, his eyes darkening. "This isn't what you want me to be. You still want me to be the old Astarion. The best friend Astarion. Awkward little pathetic weakling Astarion. That Astarion is gone don't you fucking get that, after all this?"

He was so angry, you were so scared.

"I don't want old Astarion. He's not you, I know that. I'm sorry if I ever make you feel like that's who you have to be." You stepped a bit closer, reaching a hand out, tentatively. "I buried him 200 years ago, he's gone.

"But there's a new Astarion. Right in front of you. Whatever happens now, you're not going to walk out of here the same. I- I'm going to leave this room, hand in hand with a brand new Astarion. You have to choose right now who he's going to be." Your eyes filled with tears as you spoke. You'd made your decision. It didn't matter that you could feel the others hanging on your words with varying levels of disapproval.

Your voice was so soft, nearly getting lost in the vast, open chamber. "I love you, Star. I trust you. Whatever you need, I just want you to be someone you're proud of."

You watched his face flood with emotions that you couldn't begin to keep up with. Truly, you couldn't imagine what he must be feeling but you imagined it felt a lot like drowning. The hand that held the dagger trembled. His eyes flicked between it, you, and the cowering worm at his feet.

He was so obviously torn, split between a decision that would change him forever. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, you hoped against hope he would make the right choice.

For a moment, as his face hardened, you feared he was about to choose this ascension. To destroy seven thousand souls and marr his own beyond repair. Then he turned, gripping Cazador by the hair as he rammed the blade into his chest.

Over and over and over, you watched as Astarion eviscerated his tormentor, coating his hands in Cazador's vile blood. Your heart broke, hearing the way he screamed. Two centuries of anguish ripping it's way out of his lungs and it wasn't enough.

He stopped gutting the man long after he had stilled underneath him, finally sitting back on his heels. The air was still and heavy, broken only by an agonized sob that struck you straight to the core.

In an instant, you were at his side, kneeling into the pool of blood that surrounded him. You weren't sure what to do, exactly. If you should try to comfort him or just let him get it out. You reached a hand out, ever so tenderly touching his shoulder, just enough to let him know you were there.

He didn't even look at you, he just collapsed into you. He clung desperately to your shirt as sobs wracked his body. Every emotion that had his heart clutched in their grasp bubbling to the surface and spilling over. It broke your heart to hear him cry like this, even if you knew the core of it was finally, finally relief.

After a minute or so of weeping into your arms, he pushed himself back. He swiped at the tears that stained his face, only succeeding in smearing blood everywhere. "Gods… you've got to stop letting me do that."

"I won't." You reached out to try to clean some of the blood from his face. You all needed a good bath.

~*~*~

The camp was quieter than normal. The battle has taken its toll on all of you. Everyone was dead asleep as far as you could tell. Save for you and your darling.

You were curled up together in your tent, he was practically laying on top of you, with a leg tossed over yours and an arm wrapped tight around you. His head rested comfortably against your chest as you ran your fingers lazily through his hair.

It was so soft and wonderful. You had been so afraid of what today would bring but you couldn't have wished for a better ending. Your mind wouldn't still, though. Replaying the battle, the choices you made, the choices he made.

"Your heart is racing, love." Astarion's voice shocked you out of your thoughts, pulling you into the quiet present.

"Mm… I just keep thinking about today." You kept your voice so soft, as though you could shatter the moment if you spoke too loud. "Do you think freeing all of the spawn was the right choice?"

"I do." That was shocking, actually. He sounded so confident, especially after being the one to initially raise the valid concern of how dangerous they could be.

"You're the one who made it." He continued. "Do I sometimes think you're too liberal with who you help and why? Sure. But… you've kept all of us safe. And we have so many allies that I would've never made on my own. Because you're so painfully nice. I trust your choices."

That was so much more reassuring than you'd expected. You didn't really know what to say. "Well… thank you." You absentmindedly twirled one of his curls between your fingers.

"That's not really what you want to talk about, is it?"

Of course you wanted to talk about the decision he made. You weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say and you hadn't planned on bringing it up but it was nearly all you could think about. "Only if you want to talk about it."

"I think we ought to." He didn't sound thrilled about the idea but it was kind of a big deal.

You hummed softly in response as the quiet night settled between you again. Neither of you were exactly sure what could even be said.

"Thank you." He whispered, finally, after a few moments of silence. "For… believing… in me. I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world, Star."

"Maybe. I don't need it though." He sighed softly, his fingers tightening their hold on your shirt. "I was angry with you, at first, you know? I wanted you to say yes. I wanted you to support me with your whole heart. I needed that power so badly, and you wouldn't tell me that was okay. I was furious.

"But, and you do have to bear with me because it's horribly cheesy, but I walked outside with you. I was free, we were together and I just- ugh.” He sighed. “I really did realize that I didn’t need it.”

You dropped a kiss to the top of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled back. “That was cheesy, you’re right.” You couldn’t help laughing as he let go of your shirt just long enough to flash quite the rude hand gesture in your direction.

“I mean it, you bastard.” The irritation in his voice was laced with so much fondness your heart ached. “Just because I’m mysterious and unknowable doesn’t mean I’m not capable of genuine moments.”

“You wish you were unknowable.”

“You’re making it so difficult to love you right now, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You laughed softly. “I’m done, I promise. I really am so- so proud of you, you know?” Your other hand came up to cover his, gently running your thumb over his knuckles as you spoke. “I would’ve followed you no matter what but… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped you’d choose this.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes and just listening to your heart beating in your chest. Every nightmare he’d ever lived through, every night spent in agony, spent wishing for death - it was all over now. He was free, he was here with you, safe and warm and loved. He wouldn’t say it was worth it, there were so many horrors he knew he would never forget. But he was suddenly, perhaps for the first time, so endlessly grateful he had survived it.

Nothing would change the things he had done, nothing would change what had been done to him. He had been irreparably damaged by so much of it but it was finally, finally over. He could start to mend now. And he had you. You didn’t care that he wasn’t the same person you had loved as a child, you loved him now just as he was, broken and all.

“You made me want to be someone worthy of everything you’ve given me. It wasn’t much of a choice, really. I wanted it so badly because I was so… scared.” He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “You made me brave enough to do the right thing, I suppose. You’ve really made a hopeless romantic out of me.”

“Good. I like when you get sappy.” You grinned, giving his hand a squeeze. “Still. Thank you for choosing this.”

“My darling, I simply chose you.”

[wanderingmind867]

Okay, I didn't get through my whole bookshelf yet. And it's annoying having to search through my bedroom for all my books. So let's try to make this a lightning round, listing all the books I saw in my room (specifically, all the novels i know i read):

The Guardians of Childhood by William Joyce (These were the books that first made me love reading, I think. The first novels I ever read, in Grade 1 or 2. They were turned into that movie, Rise of The Guardians. But the movie came out before he was done with the books, and the books took forever to come out. He finally finished them recently, but now I feel like it's too late. Also, I didn't like the summary when I looked it up).

Alice in Wonderland (This book is amazing. Lewis Carroll is a genius. I have a whole massive book full of his works. It's too big to bring it to school, but I've read Alice in Wonderland many times. Genius book. Fun and clever and not at all depressing. I never really got into the sequel, Through the Looking Glass, as much. But I still like Lewis Carroll. He's also a great poet.)

Sherlock Holmes (Somehow, I ended up buying a big book of Sherlock Holmes stories at a library clearance sale or something years ago. It's now too old to feel safe reading it again, but I liked it. The short stories with Sherlock Holmes were the best. Arthur Conan Doyle is one of the few mystery writers I know I like. Although the full length novel didn't hold my attention nearly as well as the short stories did. I guess I couldn't handle a full novel of detective stuff?).

Roald Dahl's books (I read most of these, including the one where he wrote about his childhood. The only one of his children's books I skipped was the one about his war service. It was boring to me. But his books were pretty good. A bit creepy and weird in some spots, but never enough to scare me into dread the way many other things do. Also, I don't want to read his adult stuff. In elementary school I had to read a crime story he wrote. It was dark and weird, and it made me uncomfortable. So he's a complicated writer).

The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel (This series. God, this series. I started out really liking it. Historical figures, magic, mythology? It was amazing. But the ending. God, that ending. Time travel, time loops, immortality and more. It just became too confusing for me. I couldn't stand that last book. I did like how the book introduced me to Niccolo Machiavelli and Billy the Kid and other historical figures, though. I just really, really hated that ending).

The Seven Wonders series by Peter Lerangis (I barely remember these books. I don't think I actually ended up loving their ending, but I did somehow sit through them. So that was probably a deep disappointment to my younger self).

Fine. I have to stop again. Turns out I have at least four more book series. So I'll make a third part, then i'll probably be too burnt out to mske any more posts for an hour or two. But to think, I started making these posts hoping I could eventually use them to ask for suggestions for books for my Christmas List. But I guess that'll have to wait. sigh...

[miirshroom]

Test for Echo, Freud, and Elden Ring (Shadow of the Erdtree)

Thinking about how not all examples of fantasy stories come from books or film, sometimes they are found in song. Thinking about the lyricism of Canadian Progressive Rock band Rush.

If it wasn't obvious - the Shadowlands is a Freudian nightmare. The surrealism of Salvadore Dali was heavily influenced by Freudian psychoanalysis and the cocoon of the empyrean is staged to resemble Dali's work Geopoliticus Child Watching the Birth of the New Man.

Recently released Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon directly has an AC pilot named "Freud" whose emblem is a hand emerging from shadow holding a key (AC unit called "Locksmith").

And as it turns out, Neil Peart - lyricist for Rush - also was drawing inspirations from Freud while writing songs for Test for Echo (1996).

"I've always been curious about all religions, and the Totem idea came from the Freud book 'Totem And Taboo', which I ran across at the Chalet studio where we were working just in the bookshelf in the living room. I had been kind of rediscovering Freud by way of Jung and getting to understand the really deep stuff he was dealing with as opposed to some of the pop psychology that we were fed growing up, and I thought Totem And Taboo was such a beautiful title because it's what we fear and what we worship. Totem being what we worship and Taboo being what we fear. What a beautiful, embracing metaphor. At one time, the song Resist was called 'Taboo' because I wanted to have the two little set pieces of what we fear, and in 'Totem' I was just trying to appropriate all religions because that's what I found looking around at different religions and different systems, is that they all have something good. So I thought why not have them all? The 'Buddha smile' is a nice thing, and I'd like to have 12 Apostles...it's all great. It was really just a kind of tongue and cheek, all the good things of different religions." Neil Peart, Jam! Showbiz, October 16, 1996

The lyrics to the songs can be found here: https://www.rush.com/albums/test-for-echo/

It's a fantasy that people of all religions and esoteric beliefs would get together to craft their perfect god to fear and worship. Fortunately, Elden Ring is a fantasy. From the song "Totem", how many of the faith systems here can you spot represented somewhere in the game?:

I’ve got twelve disciples and a Buddha smile The Garden of Allah – Viking Valhalla A miracle once in a while I’ve got a pantheon of animals in a pagan soul Vishnu and Gaia – Aztec and Maya Dance around my totem pole I believe in what I see I believe in what I hear I believe that what I’m feeling Changes how the world appears Angels and demons dancing in my head Lunatics and monsters underneath my bed Media messiahs preying on my fears Pop culture prophets playing in my ears I’ve got celestial mechanics To synchronize my stars Seasonal migrations – daily variations World of the unlikely and bizarre I’ve got idols and icons, unspoken holy vows Thoughts to keep well-hidden – sacred and forbidden Free to browse among the holy cows That’s why I believe Angels and demons inside of me Saviors and Satans all around me Sweet chariot, swing low, coming for me

And then there's Resist, which has some Miquellian themes:

I can learn to resist Anything but temptation I can learn to co-exist With anything but pain I can learn to compromise Anything but my desires I can learn to get along With all the things I can’t explain I can learn to resist Anything but frustration I can learn to persist With anything but aiming low I can learn to close my eyes To anything but injustice I can learn to get along With all the things I don’t know

But neither of these songs were the tip off for why I thought to look more closely at this album. It was the Crucible Knights and Bloodhound Knights. They've always had the odd quirk of being named for geological periods. That's a lyric from the song Dog Years:

I’d rather be a tortoise from Galapagos Or a span of geological time Than be living in these dog years

Ironic that the tortoises in Elden Ring have no text option allowing them to be labelled appropriately, so the community has decreed them "dog".

There are other songs from this album that I can see represented in Elden Ring. The title song Test for Echo is about how people yearn for connection, but what the mass media landscape delivers is sensationalism and acts of violence around the world. In 30 years this hasn't really improved. A picture of an inunnguaq was selected for the album cover from fascination for the way that the simple stone structure provides evidence of the existence of other humans having travelled before through a desolate landscape. And as I have mentioned before, Radagon's story has hints of Narcissus and Echo.

This is bookended by the final song on the album Carve Away the Stone. The song suggests that like the Greek Sisyphus, all people are eternally rolling their own stones up a hill in the form of emotional baggage or other trauma. But people aren't static like a character from a story - they don't need to carry that weight forever. If you have the opportunity to shape your own destiny, why not take it? This would be related to the way that both Marika and Radagon appear to be carved of stone.

There's also the largely instrumental song that is second to last on the album and titled Limbo. It's implied to be vampire themed by one of the few vocal cut-ins being in a goofy vampire voice ("Whatever happened to my Transylvania twist?"). So like, Messmer the Impaler in the limbo-coded Shadowlands. His allusions to vampirism firstly being an epithet invoking Vlad the Impaler and also he has only false/closed eyes so he can't self reflect (one of the superstitions of vampires being that their reflection won't show up in a mirror because the mirrors in those days were polished silver). The archetype of the vampire in the Shadow is Jungian stuff and like I said - Neil Peart was thinking about depth psychology while writing this album.

For the rest of the songs the potential connections are more vague ("Time and motion / Flesh and blood and fire / Lives connect in webs of gold and razor wire" - Time and Motion) ("Gravity and distance / Change the passage of light / Gravity and distance / Change the color of right" - The Color of Right).

This isn't the only Rush album that I find possibly to have had some influence on the Radagon/Miquella/Mohg portion of Elden Ring. There's also the album 2112 (1976) back in Rush's earlier fantasy/sci-fi era, which introduces the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx - a kind of thought police represented by a red star - and mentions twin moons being in the sky. It was Rush's breakthrough album in America, followed the next year by A Farewell to Kings (1977), for which the notable songs include A Farewell to Kings, Xanadu, and Closer to the Heart. Also the album cover shows a puppet king slumped on a throne in front of a crumbling building. But again like with Test for Echo, one could imagine how all songs on the album might be combined to create an overall sense of time period.

I'm not making a case for FromSoft promoting Freudian pseudopsychology, for the record. All this psychoanalysis stuff is in the Shadowlands and nobody in the Lands Between cares about what's in the Shadowlands. It's in the past, dead and buried. You can no more decide the course of the future by replicating the past than you can create a sustainable global economy by learning economics through playing Elden Ring.

[imagines--galore]

||Light ‘em Up|| Chapter Six

Summary: She saved Hiro from bullies and then punched Tadashi when she thought he was one too. She calls herself Hiro’s caretaker, and became Tadashi’s best friend. Now she attends the same Institute as Tadashi as a robotics student. She’s Sakura dubbed Cherry Blossom by Fred. She’s Hiro’s partner in crime, when it comes to annoying his brother and Tadashi’s best friend. Pairing: Tadashi Hamada x Sakura Kamiya(OC) Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Adventure A/N: Next chapter's up and running! If you'd like to be tagged in the next one lemme know!

Previously -  Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five,

Sakura hummed in thought as she raised the pieces or more like the remains of a dummy out of a box. Taking a deep breath she shouted over her shoulder. "Uncle James! Do we need to keep the dummy we used for target practice?"

"No! Toss it out!" He called back to her from the other room. The eleven year old shrugged before quickly closing the box and tossing it away.

THUD!

As she moved to the second to last box her guardian entered the room carrying a black gym bag. Placing it in a growing pile of 'Useful Items' as dubbed by them both he turned to her. "Sakura! I found the laser tag guns!"

Without looking up from where she was sifting through the CDs in the box she nodded. "Good! We can play later!"

James hummed in reply as he surveyed the room. "Hopefully they still work!" He was in the process of picking up the umbrella stand and place it near the door when the girl called out.

"Uncle James! Do we really need to keep all these magazines of trucks?" The man snapped around to look at her, then shook his head before

"Hey! I let you keep your superhero magazines don't I?" He said. He heard the girl sigh in exasperation.

"Comics, Uncle James! They are called comics. And they are awesome and classic!" Her god-father looked up from where he was collecting his magazines from the floor.

"Well my Trucks are classic for me!" He shot back, stacking the magazines and dumping them on the shelf. The girl placed her hands on her hips where she was sitting.

"At least throw out the old ones. They're falling apart!" James narrowed his eyes at the eleven year old.

"Don't you dare touch them Sakura! Or I will burn your poster of that guy wearing tights!" He watched in satisfaction as her eyes widened a little, before she humphed and turned back to her box.

"His name is Nightwing Uncle James! And he is not wearing tights. He's wearing a spandex!" She said her voice taking on a haughty tone as she talked. Her god-father smirked.

"What is he gay!?"

A laugh escaped him as he caught sight of the furious expression on his charge's face.

"Uncle James!"

He continued to laugh while Sakura huffed as she tossed another single sock she had found in the box she had been sifting through.

"Really Uncle James! How many single socks do you own?"

"Blame the elves alright! They hide them from me."

Sakura rolled her eyes as she tossed aside her empty box and turned to another.

"Is that really your excuse?"

James frowned as he pushed at a book shelf, trying to set it against the wall.

"Don't you start!" He snapped, his voice strained as he pushed. Sighing at her god-father's excuse the eleven year old got up.

"I'm gonna go bring in the last of the boxes." She called over her shoulder. The dance instructor only replied with a grunt as he pushed the bookshelf in its place.

                                          ————————–

It had been almost a month since the day James had told Sakura about her parents. It had been a very difficult time for them. James had not found himself enjoying his dance lessons and for the first time in over fifteen years he was completely friendless.

And then there had been the funeral.

God the funeral!

The empty caskets.

The few people.

The meaningless consolations.

Those purple eyes with the haunted look in them.

He was just as effected but not as effected as the daughter.

After the funeral Sakura went about her daily life like nothing had happened. She went to school every morning, ate and slept, did her homework and projects in time.

But that was all she did.

As soon as she got home she would usually lock herself in her room for almost and hour or two. She stopped dancing. She even stopped reading the thick volumes of Robotics History like she always did. There was a vacant look in her eyes and she would just sit on the couch staring into nothing.

Sometimes, when James got home the TV would be on, with a robotic documentary of some sort with the girl staring at it in an almost mechanical way. Usually when James couldn't find her in the mornings he would go check the apartment next to his and see Sakura curled up in her parents bed, her cheeks stained with tear tracks, clutching a pillow to her chest. She refused to go inside the apartment during the day and James usually carried her back to her room in his apartment. Even though she ate as much as she was able to her face still had a slightly gaunt look. There were bags beneath her eyes and her usually large purple eyes seemed larger on her small face.

James had started to worry about her. But he didn't know what he could do. So he had just tried to be there for her. Just as he had promised. And just how Cass Hamada had advised him. Making sure she ate properly and coming in to tuck her in every night and kiss her goodnight. Sitting with her for two hours at times while she stared at the television withe the Documentary playing out. He would usually fall asleep at times, during the show and would wake up to find his god-daughter gone and a blanket draped over him. One day he had left a piece of chocolate at the kitchen counter, just like her dad used to. When he got back from work the chocolate piece was still there but it was in half. She would take a bite and than leave the other half for her father and she had done the same with him.

He had received an angelic smile from her that day.

And she had been in high spirits the whole of the next two days as well. But the most change in her came two weeks later.

After two weeks the eleven year old had asked him during breakfast when they were moving into the new apartment above their new Studio. He had been taken aback by the sudden question. For a full two minutes he had stared at the girl who had stared right back before he had shook his head and had told her that he would get to it that morning. They had sold his apartment as well as her parents.

He had seen the look in her eyes when she had signed the contract that broke the lease for the apartment. It had been her home. What he didn't know was that the girl was thinking nothing of the sort.

The apartment had not felt like her home since her parents had died. It felt emptier and she had not liked it at all. Maybe it was best to move in a new place where nothing would remind her of her parents every time she entered a room.

So here they were. New apartment. New neighborhood.

                                          ————————–

She had just stepped out of the Studio when she caught sight of a familiar face on the pavement on the other side of the road.

Tadashi.

Scratch that, two familiar faces.

Hiro was with him as well, bouncing on his feet as he went his voice carrying itself with the wind making Sakura smile at the excitement and happiness it carried. She had not seen the brothers or their aunt in almost a month but it was rather hard for her to forget about either of them. They had been complete strangers but even then they had all helped her out in a way she had never thought.

Especially Cass Hamada and Tadashi. She had been meaning to go over and thank them for their help, and return the clothes she had borrowed from them, which she had washed and ironed herself and folded neatly to return when she could. But since the moving she had not had the time.

She would now….

Suddenly as if he were sensing someone was looking at him, Tadashi looked up. Their eyes met and he stopped walking, pulling his brother to a halt as well. His face was emotionless at first and so was hers. But that changed when she lifted her hand in a wave and the corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile.

Tadashi smiled at her as well and waved back. Hiro looked to where his brother was waving, and even from where Sakura stood she could see his little face light up under his mop of untidy hair as he waved at her energetically. Suddenly feeling slightly braver Sakura motioned with her hand telling them to come over. Tadashi gripped Hiro's hand tightly as he walked the last few steps to the curve where the pavement ended and carefully started to cross the road.

Meanwhile Sakura grunted as she lifted the last box from right outside the Studio entrance doors.

Why did she have to have such thick books?

She had just managed to get a good grip on the box when her fingers slipped and the box landed on her foot with an almost sickening crunch.

Why did she have to wear flip flops that day?!

Her books were spilled out everywhere and her lips pursed shut as she screamed, her eyes squeezing shut involuntarily. Of course the scream was muffled but was nothing compared to the pain in her foot that she now clutched.

"Are you alright?"

She opened her eyes, blurred by a few tears of pain. She could only see a blurry figure standing a few feet away from her. Waving her hand she tried putting her foot on the ground.

"No, its alright I've got i-OUCH!" As soon as she had placed her weight on her foot pain had shot up her leg and she had lifted her foot letting it dangle in the air while balancing herself on one leg. She looked up seeing a familiar pair of brown eyes look down at her questioningly, she smiled sheepishly.

"I guess you could help."

Tadashi only smiled as he picked up a couple of books. Still bouncing on her good foot Sakura pushed the door open as the boy carried them inside the Studio. Sakura hobbled after him, with little Hiro at her side, gripping her arm making sure she would not fall.

"So do you often injure yourself or was that an accident?" Tadashi asked as he deposited his armful of books at the reception desk right near the entrance. Sakura groaned as she placed her foot on the floor again, only to pick it up again, as she plopped down on one of the waiting benches for the parents.

"Gee! I wander what gave me away." She rolled her eyes, a small smile playing across her lips, despite the pain.

"Thakura look it! Look it!" Hiro pulled at the sleeve of her shirt to get the older girl's attention. She smiled at him as he stood in front of her.

"Yes Hiro? What is it?" The little boy looked at her and smiled, showing the gap between his two front teeth. He pointed at the gap.

"I lothd my tfooth." He lisped not being able to say the 's' or the 'o' properly due to the gap. Sakura gasped.

"Oh my Hiro! This means that you're all grown up." Hiro grinned at her as his older brother dropped a pile of books next to them.

"Yeah! And the toofth fffairy came at night and lefft a quarterf under my pillow." He said fishing out a shiny quarter from his pocket. Sakura giggled as the child showed her his little treasure.

"Its very shiny Hiro." She nodded. Hiro grinned at her when suddenly his eyes snapped towards the book pile next to the eleven year old.

"Robothsh!" Sakura and Tadashi both turned to look at the book that had caught the attention of the little boy. Sakura smiled as she pulled the book out.

"Yes Hiro! This is a book about ever machine that has ever been made. Its why its called Robots." She held up the book in front of her to show the little boy. Hiro's brown eyes widened with excitement.

"Can I look at it?" Sakura had only opened her mouth to reply when Tadashi cut her off.

"Hiro! What do we say when we want something?" His tone was stern, or as stern as it could get with his younger brother. Hiro huffed, a little whistling sound escaping from between the gap in his teeth.

"Can I look at the book Thakura? Pleath?" Tadashi nodded in approval while Sakura just handed over the book to the little boy who grabbed it and promptly sat down right where he was standing to look at it.

"I didn't know you were interested in robots."

Sakura looked up at him where he stood next to her, smiling. She shrugged.

"My parents both worked in the field." At the mention of her parents her heart clenched painfully but she ignored it as she continued. "Guess I picked it up with all the books lying around huh?" She grinned.

Tadashi looked at her, his head tilted slightly. Sakura looked back at him.

"What?"

The boy shrugged.

"Nothing. Just this is the first time I've heard a girl say she likes robots!" Sakura pursed her lips as she scowled.

"Well that's because most girls like to stay inside and play with their dolls." She said shuddering with disgust.

"Where's the fun in that? Its way more fun to get your hands dirty with all the motor oil!" She said almost gleefully looking up at the boy.

"I have ten Make your own Robots Kit! And all of them are the original editions too!"

Tadashi seemed to perk up at what she was saying his eyes shining with disbelief.

"You've got the tenth edition as well?" He exclaimed. Sakura nodded proudly.

"Yup! And it has all the new features in it! And you get to build the remote control as well and decide what features your robot will have!"

Tadashi's eyes widened. "Woah!" He muttered. Suddenly Sakura seemed to get an idea.

"Hey! I haven't opened mine yet! We could both build it together if you want!" Tadashi's cheeks hurt from the huge smile he gave but right now he didn't care.

"Really?! That would be so cool!"

Sakura grinned.

"Is it alright with your aunt if I come over though?" She asked a bit tentatively. She didn't want to go where she would disturb somebody. Tadashi only shook his head.

"No! Its alright. Aunt Cass wouldn't mind. Why don't we meet up this Saturday in the afternoon?" He said eagerly. Sakura nodded.

"Sure! I'll meet you at the cafe then?"

Tadashi grinned. "Awesome!" He suddenly seemed to catch sight of the clock hanging on the wall ticking away. He checked his own watch.

"Uh oh! We gotta head home now! Come on Hiro!" He said yanking on his brother's arm who was still too immersed in his book to notice anything. Hiro pouted as he got up and closed the book.

"You can keep the book Hiro!" Sakura offered. Hiro's little face lit up at the permission.

"Thankth Thakura!" He said hugging the book to his little chest. "I'll keep it thafe. I promith!" Sakura only smiled as the little boy turned, opening the book again and started riffling through it, trying to find the page he had been last.

"Hey Sakura?" The eleven year old to turned to look at the older boy looking at her rather nervously.

"Erm...A-are you ok now?" He blurted out. Sakura could see genuine concern in those brown eyes so she smiled, a bit sadly, yet smiled nonetheless.

"Yeah!" She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm fine Tadashi. Thank you." Tadashi smiled at her as well.

"Tadathi! Leth go!" His older brother shook his head at the impatience in his voice and walked after him as he stood at the entrance, holding the door open.

"Tadashi?" The eleven year old turned to look at the girl looking at him, biting down on her lips nervously.

"I-I just wanted to say thanks." Her cheeks turned red only slightly, as she licked her lips nervously. "For, you know, hugging me when I was crying."

Tadashi could feel his ears and cheeks burn at the memory that suddenly sprang up in his mind. He only shrugged as he quickly smiled at her.

"Anytime Sakura." The girl looked up her eyes shining with confusion. As if realizing what he had just said Tadashi's cheeks flushed red and he quickly yanked his little brother out with him.

As he led his little brother down the street towards the cafe he wandered what kind of a friend would she be if they ever did become friends. He wanted to be friends with her. She had helped his brother out and she was interested in Robots as well, which was very rare to find because there were only a few children who took interest in them.

Meanwhile Sakura was picking up her books and walking up the stairs to her room. But she was thinking something along the lines of what the boy was thinking at the moment as well. But her thoughts were being processed due to another reason.

'Anytime Sakura!'

Did that mean he wanted to be friends with her?

                                          ————————–

Sakura frowned as she wiped her hands on her jeans. Glancing at the boy sitting next to her she nudged him to get his attention. He looked up at her.

"Could you pass me the screw driver?" Hiro nodded as he, nudged his brother.

"Tadadthi! Thcredriwer, pleath!" He lisped. His older brother handed over the tool, without looking up from his little project. Hiro gave Sakura a toothy grin as he handed her the tool. Sakura smiled at the younger boy. As soon as the girl had taken the object Hiro turned back to his task, his tiny brow creased in concentration. Sakura hummed once under her breath than began to turn the slot into its place as per the instructions.

Or what was left of the instructions anyway.

As soon as the girl had opened her Robot-Making Kit Tadashi as well as Hiro had called dibs on the parts they wanted to make. Tadashi took over the torso of the robot while Hiro grabbed the legs saying he wanted to make rockets out of them. Sakura had gone for making the remote control.

Tadashi had to build the entire torso of the robot, give it the features he wanted it to have. The torso had a lot of features. Laser from the eyes and the hands, karate chop, blades from the elbows and for fun it could spin its head as well. Tadashi had set to work on assembling the torso as soon as he had collected all his pieces.

Hiro had grabbed the legs of the robot and plopped down in between Tadashi and Sakura, his little finger working and moving expertly as he picked up tools and assembled the legs plus the features into them. Jet boots, round house kicks, blades from the knees and feet and for fun the legs also had the feature where it could tap dance. Hiro was attracted to the fact that he would get to assemble rocket boots and he had immediately gone for the legs.

Sakura was left making the remote control. Her job was to put together the remote control for their robot and make sure that the command fro each feature was perfectly aligned with the signal the remote was going to give out. Sakura was having fun reading all the frequencies from her part of the instructions and programming them into the remote.

Each child was sifting through their own set of instructions from the manual they had found included in the box. The book had been ripped and divided according to the sections and the three children had gotten to work. All three of them had decided to give the robot all of the features that were included in the box. It seemed more challenging and more exciting that way.

Two hours later the three of them were found sitting on a bench with a long table placed in front of them with Hiro in the middle of the two older children, inside the Hamada's garage. The only sound that came from them was the occasional noise from the specific task they were doing. Other than borrowing something from the other the three children had not talked much in the last two hours. They sat their in a companionable silence as they worked.

And that was exactly how Aunt Cass found them when she into the garage to check on them.

She was carrying a tray with a plate of sandwiches on them and three glasses of juice. A smile came over her as she placed the tray on a spare box in the slightly messy garage and called out.

"Alright my little geniuses take a break!" She laughed softly when all three children jumped at her voice.

"Oh Aunt Cass! We didn't hear you come in!" The woman smiled at her older nephew, not pointing out the oil streak on his cheek.

"Obviously Tadashi. Honestly I think this is the quietest I have seen you and Hiro given your daily shouts and fights." Tadashi and Hiro both looked up at her smiling sheepishly. Sakura wiped her hands on the front of her jeans as she stood up. Cass looked at the young girl as she took of her cap, placing it on Hiro's head playfully pushing it down. The girl looked so much better than the last time she had seen her. Her eyes seemed to have gained their shine back and she looked healthier and the gaunt look was almost gone.

Cass couldn't help but think that maybe if she hung out with Tadashi and Hiro she would be able to get past her grief easily. She hoped it would come to that. Cass Hamada always had hypersensitive motherly instincts. Whenever she saw a child or a teenager sad or in some form of trouble she would try and help them out as much as she could. They always seemed to remind them of herself when she had been their age and had lost her mother.

Scared.

Lost.

Frightened.

Confused.

Helping Sakura had been another matter. The older woman had been able to find an instant connection with her considering she had known what the other girl had been feeling at the time and had wanted to help as much as she could.

Seeing the girl laugh and playfully dodge Hiro's attempt at punching her she was glad that she had.

Spotting something on Hiro's finger Cass frowned.

"Hiro? What happened to your finger?" The little boy stopped in his attempts to punch Sakura and looked at his aunt then at his bandaged finger.

"I cuth my finger, Aunth Cath!" He said, a smile on his face.

"Thakura thays that I'm gonna geth a really cool thcar fffrom it!" The older woman's gaze turned to the girl who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I had to get him to stop crying." She explained. Tadashi stepped in.

"Don't worry Aunt Cass. We cleaned it up and everything." He waved his hand towards a small stool where a first aid box was placed. His aunt nodded before pushing forward the sandwich tray a bit.

"Take a little break and eat. All three of you. Oh! And Sakura! Your godfather called. He said that he would come pick you around four alright."

The girl nodded, not being able to reply as her mouth was full. Cass smiled one last time at all three children before she walked out of the garage. Taking a small sip from her glass of orange juice Sakura glanced at the two boys, wolfing down the sandwiches beside her.

"So how far are we with our projects?" She asked, taking another bite of her sandwich. Tadashi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he set his glass of juice down on the tray.

"I'm almost done. Just gotta add the spinning head feature and thats it." Sakura nodded, just as Hiro began to speak.

"And I juth have to make thure that the boothsh are working." He went to pick up the second to last sandwich. Tadashi pushed the last sandwich towards Sakura. The girl smiled before picking it up breaking it in half and offering one half to the boy who took it with a small grin.

"And I'm almost done with the remote. So I guess we'll be finished in a little while." She glanced at her wrist to check the time. "Good thing too! We have an hour and then I have to leave." She dusted her hands to get rid of the crumbs as Tadashi walked back to his side of the bench.

"Shouldn't take long then." He said as he picked up a bolt and carefully began to screw it into the neck of the robot. The robot was all grey in color and had plates over its body to hide the mechanism underneath. The three children were following the instructions just as they were written out but they hadn't needed that much help from it.

Tadashi knew which part went where as he had assembled robots before with all his kits. Hiro had seen his brother do it a hundred times and Sakura had read so many book and had seen her father do these things in front of her that she knew how to read a frequency and feed it into the remote. All three of them began their respective tasks intent on finishing them.

Fifteen minutes later Hiro held up his robot legs, grinning from ear to ear.

"Finith!" Sakura looked up at the small boy her eyes wide with amazement.

"Are you some kind of a genius or something Hiro?"

Hiro frowned in though, shaking his head.

"Don't think tho! But Tadathi thays that I am thmart!" He said grinning proudly as his brother nodded behind him.

"He is smarter than the average kid Sakura. I can tell you that." The girl shook her head, smiling is disbelief.

"Alright then! You're a genius kid!" She grinned at the little boy, before turning back to her remote. Screwing the last screw in place she held it up.

"Done! Now all I need are a couple of batteries."

Tadashi nodded where he was joining the torso of the robot to the legs with Hiro's help.

"They were included in the box. Hiro go get them." His brother nodded before scampering off to get the batteries. Sakura cleared a place at the table by sweeping her hand and pushing away the extra pieces and the tools they had been using. Tadashi placed the robot on the table, just as Hiro returned gripping the two batteries in his little fingers. Taking the batteries Sakura placed them inside the remote and placed it next to the robot.

Looking at their little creation the three children glanced at each other, identical excited smiles on their faces.

"Leth do thith!" Hiro said, his voice high with excitement as he reached for the remote. His brother however had other ideas.

"Wait Hiro! Aunt Cass asked me to take a picture first." As he spoke he fished out a camera from the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing. Sakura glanced at Tadashi who still had an oil streak on his cheek, then at Hiro who's face was blackened from where the rocket boots and spewed smoke out of them, and she knew that she looked no better with her hair falling out of its ponytail.

But she couldn't have cared less.

"Why would she do that?" She wandered out loud. Tadashi looked up from where he was adjusting the camera.

"It's like that with all the things Hiro and I have invented before." He explained as he walked over to a fallen stool and picked it up before placing the camera on the stool where it began to blink a little red light. The boy ran back to his brother and his new friend. Scooping up Hiro he placed him on the bench. Hiro, now standing at both the older children's height, wrapped a tiny arm each around their shoulders as he grinned at the camera. Sakura grinned at the little gesture as she wrapped her own arm around Hiro's waist. Tadashi did the same thing at the same time and neither of them had a chance to retract their arms as the flash of the camera went off at the exact moment capturing the little moment.

Quickly retracting their arms Sakura glanced down at the floor, twisting a stray strand of her hair, suddenly feeling shy. She quickly glanced up to see Tadashi look her way at the same time, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Both eleven year olds smiled shyly and nervously at each other. Hiro who hadn't seemed to notice anything wrong with the two older children was making sure that everything was in order. Suddenly he scrambled off his seat and ran for the door of the garage as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Tadashi frowned at his brother's retreating back.

"Hiro! Where you going?" The little boy didn't even look back as he answered.

"I need thomething! I'll be righth back!" With that the boy was out the door. Sakura glanced at Tadashi who only shrugged in response. Sakura offered a small smile as she too turned to check the robot standing on the table.

Tadashi swallowed nervously as he tried not to fidget where he stood. For some reason it had been eating him on the inside and he knew that as soon as he would say it he would get it over and done with.

But how to bring it on?

"Hey Sakura?"

"Yeah?"

He would be cool and calm about it. Bring it up in the conversation casually. He took a tiny step forward and opened his mouth to say something, anything to start a conversation.

"Ireallylikeyouandwannabefriendswithyou!"

No! No! That wasn't supposed to come out just yet!

As Tadashi panicked Sakura looked up at him, surprised at what she had heard. Or had tried to hear anyway. Either way she had heard what he had said. A light blush dusted her cheeks and she started to play with the loose strand of her hair again.

Both children were quite for a few second, looking at one another, Sakura in surprise while Tadashi looked nervous, biting down on his lip. After a few short second the girl smiled.

"I like you too Tadashi." She giggled when she saw the boy's ears turn red at the tips. Walking forward she stopped till she was a couple of inches away from him. "And I would like to be friends too."

Tadashi gave a wide grin, as he released the breath he did not know he had been holding. He really did want Sakura do be his friend. She was the first girl who liked making robots and playing with them just as he did. Not to mention she had helped Hiro out. Which meant that she was a nice person.

Sakura grinned at the boy. She liked Tadashi. He didn't make fun of her like all the other boys at her school, who made fun of her just because she liked to play with robots as well. They never let her play with them. But Tadashi had let her play with him and his brother.

These little things might've seemed meaningless to most adults. But Tadashi and Sakura were just children and to children small matters like these were a rather big deal. For Tadashi who had always been keeping his little brother out of trouble had taken the first chance he had of making a friend who he knew was protective like him. While Sakura who had always been something of an outcast when it came to other children was offered friendship by a boy who had said that he liked her. Though they would never realize these little facts, even when they grew up, but they would just look back on this day and see it as when two lonely and unique children became friends.

"Alrighth! We have all thigned the roboth!" Hiro turned to look at the two older children, a black permanent marker in his hand. They had all, on Hiro's insistence signed on the robot, well Tadashi and Sakura had simply written their names. Hiro's name was a mass of squiggly lines placed together to form his name. Nevertheless the child was proud of his accomplishment.

"Leth fly thith thing!" He whooped as he grabbed the remote and pushed it towards his brother. Tadashi cast a sideways glance at his new friend who only smiled and nodded. It was after all her toy so he had to ask permission. Grinning the elven year old turned the knob slowly. The robot seemed to respond to his command as it turned his head in a complete circle.

"Ith workthf!" Hiro shouted throwing his arms in the air. Sakura felt a smile overtake her face.

"Lets see if this thing can fly!" Tadashi said as he hit the required buttons. Immediately the robot made a small sputtering sound and the rockets under the boots activated. The robot began to levitate.

"It works! You're a genius Hiro!" The black haired girl exclaimed as she threw her arms around the younger boy and hugging him tightly. Hiro grumbled.

"Thakura! Leth go!" The girl only laughed and ruffled his hair as she let him go. Looking up at Tadashi she grinned as he grinned back. Seeing him hold up his hand, she reached forward giving him a high five as well.

                                          ————————–

Half an hour later.

"Uh oh..."

"Woopthsh?"

"Get down!"

BOOM!

Peeking from behind the table they had taken refuge, eyes wide with astonishment and faces smeared with the blackness of the smoke, the three children looked at the remaining parts of what had been the robot, which were still smoking slightly. They all glanced at each other.

"Maybe next time we shouldn't put in all the features of the robot at once." Tadashi suggested.

Sakura gave a firm nod of her head. "And read the instructions carefully and thoroughly as well." She said, glancing at the remains of the instruction manual.

"And get a fffire exthinguither!" The two older children turned to look at the younger boy who only shrugged.

"Thomething mighth catctht fffire nexth time!" He said, shrugging slightly. Tadashi and Sakura glanced at each other briefly before bursting into laughter. They couldn'thelp it. Hiro had said it in such a serious tone and their whole stupidity had seemed to catch up to them. As they lay on the floor laughing, and clutching at their stomachs, Hiro looked at them in bewilderment. Shaking his head at their antics the little boy sighed.

"Grown upths!"

[bonesandthebees]

Also, I am now continuing in Priory. I found it too heavy to drag to my job interview. So I took Mr. Loverman, which is was reading in before, but I was too excited about Priory so I jumped to that one. But then reading it again I got into it again and so I ended up finishing that 1 first. I’m now at 3 of my 5 book goal for this year. And I’m about halfway in Priory. After that I have a few more shorter books I want to read.

I had to reorganise my bookshelves because I have bought too many books in the past year and outgrown my 2 shelves. And the. I decided I might as well do all the books in the house and put them in an excel because I want to know how many we have total (I’m close to 200 and I have just about done the downstairs, but this is like books belonging to every family member in any genre so all the cookbooks and all my sheet music from when I was learning guitar and my course books from uni). It’s a big project. I think the attic and study will kill me. But I’m not touching those until the temperature drops. It’s been so hot lately.

Anyway, enjoy my little ramble! Hope your grandma will be fine!

-🌲

Woohoo yay for reading goals of the year!!! You’re more than halfway there!! My goal this year is 20 books (although now I’m kind of aiming for 25) and I’ve read 13 so far so we’re making good progress

God organizing books can be such a task. We used to have so many books but then we moved a few times and I donated most of mine so now I’m rebuilding my collection. I have about one bookshelf and then a bunch scattered around my room so the collection is growing. Using an excel sheet seems like a really smart way to do it though!! Hope the organization goes well!!

And I’m glad you’re enjoying priory so far it’s huge but so so worth it

And ty it’s looking like my grandma is gonna be fine, we’re just waiting for them to be able to run another blood test before she can go home

[acewithapen]

I've got this new tattoo, it reminds me of you

Hi!! Welcome to my fic for Keefitz Week 2023! Thank you so much to Summer (@when-wax-wings-melt) and Avery (@skylilac) for hosting this!! Tragically, I did not finish all of the chapters in time, so keep an eye out!

Read on ao3 here!!

A mix of the prompts, hence the. multichap part.

Keefe Sencen was a maker of bad decisions. Quite frequently, as his friends loved to remind him. In his freshman year of college, his (former) best friend Fitz Vacker had suggested being roommates for their second year. Keefe had enthusiastically agreed. 

But then they’d had a falling out over the summer. And he’d forgotten that they’d put in a request to room together. So there he was: Keefe Sencen, 19 years old, clutching a box (that had all of his decorations) as he stared at Fitz. Fitz who’d changed since July, skin darker and freckles more prominent. And fuck. His hair now had a teal streak that matched the colored contacts he wore. Keefe fought back the blush, and gave him a nervous grin. 

“Hey, Fitz.”

“Keefe.”

“Keefe! Hey, how’s your summer been?” Thank god for Biana. If she noticed anything wrong, she didn’t say anything, just looping an arm around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. 

“Pretty good! You?”

She shrugged, pale cream shirt contrasting beautifully with her skin. “Alright.” She had a dark red streak in her curls, matching Fitz’s. “We went to the beach a lot. Speaking of which! You should come with us on Saturday! There’s one super close, and I think everyone else is free!” 

“I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Clear what? You don’t do anything!” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am a very busy man—” 

She cut him off with a laugh, eyes scrunching up from her grin. “Mhm, sure. Anyway, Fitz, you’re all good, yeah?”

He looked up from where he was putting books on his shelf. “Yep. See you later.”

“Have fun! I love you, don’t be stupid.” Biana hugged her brother, and then darted back to give him a quick squeeze. “I’ll see you on Saturday!” She blows them each a kiss and flounces out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Right…I—I’m gonna go get my bedding.” Keefe fled, leaving the box behind. He grabbed the laundry bag and his pillow, and leaned back against his car. This was such a bad idea. 

Back in their dorm, he unpacked, made his bed, and set up his lights. He’d texted Fitz the week before, the first time they’d spoken since…That Day. He pushed the discomfort aside, and focused on getting his lights to be perfect. They had a bulletin board in between the beds, and he had decided to put a set around it. The lights are star shaped, connected by thin copper wires. He risked a look at Fitz’s side. He had slipped out, claiming dinner plans with his parents. (Keefe called bullshit, but only internally. Alden and Della had gotten divorced in their 6th grade year, and the two tried to stay away from each other.) 

He glanced at the black bookshelf Fitz had brought, already filled with books. Keefe noted with a slight pang of sadness that he hadn’t brought any of the books they’d annotated together. But it was fine. Totally fine. 

He’d eventually settled into his bed, climbing up the ladder. Fitz had taken the lower bed. Something ached in his chest. Fitz remembered. He remembered how much Keefe hated sleeping close to the ground, so accustomed to curling up far above the floor. 

The door slid open and shut, Fitz left in an exhausted slump. He eyed him. Fitz ran his hands through his hair, head against the door. 

“…Fitz? Are you okay…?” Maybe dinner with his parents had actually happened. Fuck. 

“Keefe? You’re here?” 

He couldn’t ignore the sharp concern anymore and scrambled down the ladder. Fitz blinked at him blearily, faded tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get you in bed, okay?” He fell into a similar routine, born of many years. Fitz had always been like this after extended time with Alden. (Keefe had promised to never let Alden near him again, after the last time this happened. Just another way he failed.) 

Fitz stumbled after him, falling face down on his bed. 

“Okay, I know. Do you mind if I help you change? You’re gonna complain if you wake up in jeans.”

He mumbled something, and gave a slight nod. 

“Great!” Keefe rummaged for a pair of pajama pants and a soft pajama shirt—one that proclaimed him as the captain of their Academic Decathlon team, Vacker in bold letters across the back. He helped him into the pants and shirt, and pulled the soft comforter over him. “Sleep well.” 

Keefe left the room. It was just so confusing. They fought, but that was his best friend, but they had screamed until they lost their voices, but he had grown up next to him, and just…ugh. 

He wandered the halls for a while, familiarizing himself with the new dorms. He recognized some of the people, but Foxfire was massive. He followed one of the hallways, nearly tripping over someone. “Oh! My bad, wait. Dex…?” 

The one in question blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Keefe? What are you doing here?”

“I live here. You?”

“Oh, I was helping Tam move in. I live in Onyx.”

Keefe had lived there last year, and he winced in sympathy. “Good luck, dude. You’ll need it.”

“Dex? Is something wrong?” Tam poked his head out, bangs redyed silver. 

“Oh, no! I found Keefe though!” Dex gestured towards him, and Keefe smiled awkwardly. Things had always been…odd around Tam. There was some tension between the two of them, and he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it during high school, and he presumably wouldn’t be able to do it now. 

“Right…who are you rooming with?”

His smile felt painted on. “Fitz.”

Tam’s eyebrows twitched up, and he shared a quick glance with Dex. “Mmm. Well. I’m going to finish setting up.” Tam went back inside. Dex gave him an apologetic smile. 

“I’m gonna go too. You’re going to the thing on Saturday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome! See you then!” Dex gave him a cheerful grin and vanished into Tam’s room. Left alone, Keefe sighed and trudged back to his dorm. Fitz was asleep, and he changed into his own pajamas, keeping the lights off. 

It’s barely 10, but god, he’s exhausted. 

He woke up the next morning to Fitz’s incessant alarm clock, a familiar sound from junior high and high school sleepovers also known as when Keefe would be kicked out. 

Keefe yawned, and it’s second nature to groan good naturedly at Fitz. “Dude, turn it off.” One loud smack later, and he’d drifted back off to sleep. 

He was rudely awakened just a few minutes later. Fitz’s alarm blared again, and he let out a loud complaint. 

“Up and at ‘em, Keefe! You need to get ready.” Curse Fitz and his incessant morning person-ness. 

“Ugh. Fine, but I get the bathroom first.”

Fitz grumbled, but acquiesced, and Keefe slipped inside before he could. That was the nice thing about living in Ruby Hall was that they had attached bathrooms, unlike Onyx where you had to go to the end of the hall. 

He showered as quickly as possible and went back to the main room, dressed in a pair of black pants and a pale green shirt. Fitz slid past him, not saying a word. He sidestepped the already growing pile of shoes to go to his desk, pushed neatly under his bed. 

Keefe sat down, flicking the lights to his mirror. He pushed gel through his hair, making it artfully messy. Once he was done, he turned on his hairdryer, carefully drying his hair. Sophie had made fun of him whenever he was over for group sleepovers, as he had almost always borrowed hers. Well. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t really care about her appearance. He had standards! 

The bathroom door opened and shut, signaling Fitz’s return. He didn’t turn to look, intent on getting his concealer blended out. The habit had started in high school, when he was regularly pulling all-nighters. And so there he was. 

After that, he checked the time. The alarm went off at 7:30, and his first class was at 9, just down the road, in the Topaz Fine Arts Center. As the name suggested, Topaz housed all of the fine arts, other than the auditorium. (That was next door, known as the Gemstone Theater.) It was just now 8:30, and if he hurried, he could swing by the coffee shop for a quick breakfast. 

“Okay, bye Fitz, see you!” He grabbed his backpack and rushed out. He didn’t bother getting his car, instead running down the road to the coffee shop.

“Oh! Keefe, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Marella enthused. 

“Hey, Marella! Can I—”

“Large iced mocha and sausage egg sandwich?” 

“Yep! Thank you!” He paid her, before sliding to the pick up counter. Linh brought over his order, giving him a gentle smile. “Good morning, Keefe.” 

“Hey, Linh! How was your summer?”

“It was good. You’re coming Saturday, yes?”

“Mhm! I’ll see tomorrow morning, probably.”

“Good. Have a good class!”

“Thanks, Linh! Bye!” He dashed out the door, clutching his coffee. His first class of the day was with Prof. Palmore. She taught graphic design, and generally didn’t care if students ate in her class, especially since it went from 9 to 11:30. 

Keefe waved at a few students he recognized, before entering Topaz. It was nice to be back. Quietly he walked down the hall, making sure to not disturb the other classrooms. Most of the campus generally didn’t care, but he’d seen someone cry from too much noise during the second week last year. Generally, it was just a good idea to not bother people. 

Prof. Palmore’s door was open, the woman in question sitting behind her desk. She didn’t have a typical lecture hall, instead setting up shop in the computer lab. 

“Good morning, Keefe.”

“Hey, Prof! How are you?”

“I’m doing well. How about you?”

“Pretty good! Still waiting for the caffeine to kick in.” 

She smiles at him, and he grins back. “Well, why don’t you go ahead and pick a seat? We’ll be jumping right in this year, since this class is solely for recurring students.” 

He nods and takes his seat. Other students slowly trickled in, taking seats around the computer lab. He’s in the back corner, at his favorite computer. Most everyone sticks to the middle and up, but he’d found this spot last year. Sue him, he was attached. 

Sophie dropped into the seat next to him, clutching a massive container of coffee. She looked exhausted, eye bags ever present. 

“Good morning!” 

“Don’t talk to me.” 

She had been taking classes here since high school, testing into the dual credit programs. Plus, their graphic design class always ended with the class here, so you could start your second year of the course as a freshman. 

He took another sip of his coffee and watched as she upended a can of Monster into it. “Soph, it’s day one.” 

She didn't respond. 

His next class was at two, so he swung by to a little hole in the wall diner. Known as The Canteen, it served the best pasta he’d ever had. Inside, one of the workers from last year was there. Ophelia gave him a wide grin, reaching over to give him an elbow bump. “It’s the Keefester! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good! Definitely looking forward to some more of your pesto chicken.” 

She snorts and motions him to follow her. She seats him at his table (again, one of his favorites), and pulls out her notepad. “So. Water, pesto and chicken pasta?”

“Yep! You know me so well,” he laughs and bats his eyelashes. She rolls her eyes playfully and saunters off. He messes around on his phone while he waits, texting back and forth with Biana. She sends him a snap, making half a heart with her fingers. He snaps her back, making the other half. His food arrives a few minutes later and he digs in. 

It’s just as good as he recalls, and soon he’s paying for his meal. His next class—Calculus—is in Peridot, down by the library. The “core” buildings (science, math, english, history) form a loose ring around it, and it’s…fairly common to see someone run from a building to the library and back again. 

He refills his water bottle inside and double checks the room number. It’s taught by a…Professor Glade, so that should be fun. 

Keefe walks in, smiles at the teacher, and goes to sit down. It’s filling up fast, and he makes a note to arrive early to get a good seat. They just go over the syllabus and he makes idle chatter with the person next to him. Their name is Sage, they have bright pink and black box braids, and quite possibly the funniest person he’s ever met. (Excluding himself, of course.) 

They exchange numbers and he waves as he leaves, intent on going back to his dorm. He needs to wrap up an assignment for his graphic design class, properly go over the syllabi he got, and draft up a schedule with Fitz. 

He makes it back to his dorm, relocks the door and kicks his shoes off. At his desk, he pulls out his highlighters and the syllabus from Calc. 

A little past 5, Fitz falls through the door. Okay, not exactly, but definitely close enough. He looks murderous. 

Keefe quickly looks back down. Before summer break, he would have watched. But now…he goes back to reading, making small notes in the margins. Sophie had gifted him a copy of the three books of the Pentecost & Parker series, and he thinks he has solved it when their door bursts open again. 

It’s Tam, who throws a bag at Keefe. “Here’s your stuff.” He leaves just as quickly as he came, door slamming behind him. 

“What was that about?”

“I asked for my stuff back. I guess it works.” The two of them had had a…less than stellar breakup over spring break last year. It had been messy. And dramatic. And hella awkward. 

He opened the bag, pulling out the books and the hoodie. Plus a pair of sweatpants that he’d completely forgotten about. His phone went off and he cursed. “I have to get to the tattoo parlor. I’m working till closing tonight, so I’ll try to not wake you up.”

He bolted out the door, down to his car. It’s a quick drive, and soon he’s pulling into the lot. Renee gives him a grin from behind the counter, wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off the tattoos on her arms. 

“Hey, Renee! How was your summer?”

“It was great! You?”

“It was alright. Do I have anything scheduled?” 

She flips through the logbook. “Two. A mother and daughter here for a basic ear piercing and two people for noses. They’re together. Walkins?”

“That’ll work.” 

She nods, reaching over to get the phone as it rings. “Hi, this is Sea of Ink, how can I help you today?” He hands her a pen and the legal pad, and she gives him a distracted smile. “Mhmmm. We do have a piercer, yes. We’re open all evening, but he won’t be available from 6 to 7. How does 8 sound?” A pause. “Excellent! We’ll see you then!” 

“What do they want?” 

“Helix. Anyway, I’ll be taking my 15 at 7. Do you want me to bring dinner for you?”

“Ooh, yeah sure. How ‘bout Jerry’s?”

“Sounds awesome, I’ll text you my order.” He heads to the back, going to wash his hands and get his supplies. 

It’s a fairly uneventful time. Closing shift is always really chill, especially once Victoria arrives. Her bangs are still white, but she’s dyed her hair a dark blue, and gotten an industrial. It has a rainbow sheen, to no one’s surprise. 

They don’t have many appointments, and Victoria has a firm no walkins policy. Renee hasn’t ever had a problem with telling someone to fuck off if they disrespect that, so they’re all set. 

At ten to eight, he’s sitting on the loveseat, feet up on the seat. He’s reading again, this one a gift from Della. It’s part of a box set of Blood of Olympus series. This time, it’s the Mark of Athena. He’s afraid to write his little notes on the page, so instead he has a stack of sticky notes and tabs. 

Renee is sitting behind the reception counter, a textbook cracked open. Victoria lounges in one of the armchairs, drawing on her iPad. The bell rings as someone walks inside, and he flinches as he looks up. Fitz is here, looking ridiculously out of place. 

“Hi, I’m Fitz Vacker. I work at the new flower shop, you know, the one down the road? It’s called Bouquet Boutique? Anyway, I wanted to give you a bouquet, if you want it.” 

Renee hurries over to take the bouquet, which is made up of pale blue and cream flowers. “Thank you so much!! I’m Renee Bright, and that’s Victoria Parsons. Welcome to Sea of Ink, and we offer a discount to shops on the road. Oh, and that’s one of our piercers, Keefe Sencen!” 

“I thought you said you had to work…?”

“This is my job…?” 

The two stare at each other, before Fitz flushes and turns away. “I should head back, but it was nice meeting you!”

“Same here! See you around, Fitz!” Renee waves cheerfully before she turns to him. “How do you know him?”

Victoria lets out an incredulous laugh. “Dude, you can’t just ask him why they know each other, oh my god.” 

She holds her hands up. “That came out wrong! All I meant was that he doesn’t seem like your…type.”

“My…type?”

“Yeah! I mean, he’s not exactly the kind of person you typically date, yeah?”

“I…we aren’t together!” He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—”

He waves her off. “It’s fine. I should get ready for my next appointment, okay?”

She nods, lips pursed. His client comes in though, clearly used to this. He does it quickly, adding to the piercings slowly climbing up their ears. 

And then he stays until nine, reading and joking around with Renee and Victoria. And that’s that. Rinse, repeat, huh?

-------

Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you liked it! This has been so much fun to write!

[july-19th-club]

every time you went to hug her she'd try to tickle you (as far as i remember, this wasn't something she used to do when i was younger and she was all there; the tickling was like an exclusively post-dementia thing - maybe as her ability to communicate diminished, it was a way she could still tease people and goof off with them). she lost something like a hundred pounds or more in the last five or ten years of her life, just kept shrinking and shrinking. when i was little she was plump and fat and had a round, full face and round full hair and a bristly chin that there's a copy of on my own face now. she had lost many teeth even before i was born, and lost more throughout the course of my life, but it didn't diminish her tastes or love of wine and food in the slightest. she was the platonic ideal of an italian grandmother to me, big and bustling. i don't remember the smell of her perfume. her style ethos was that if you had your lipstick on, you could go out and be dressed up no matter what you were wearing or how old your clothes were. she never learned to drive (her kids periodically tried to teach her, but she always got the gas and brake mixed up). when i want to think of her now i think of her at the end of the table in my mom's house, with a loud, gap-filled laugh, telling my parents about what such-and-such a neighbor was up to while my grandfather and his bushy tobacco-y yellow beard sat next to her. i will think of the books in her back bedroom, which i sat on the floor to read every visit as a kid. i will think of the way she'd shuffle down the hallway at five in the morning in her delightful, grandma-in-a-cartoon getup - frilly nightgown, fuzzy, worn, blue robe and slippers - to start the coffee. she'd watch the morning over pappy's garden in the sunroom, and my mom would join her - insomnia, so she'd always be up whenever grandma started banging pots and pans around. i'd stay curled up in the guest bed, with the wobbly round post that could pop on and off, and read her giant sherlock holmes anthology that lived on the bookshelf in there. my mother's childhood illustrated hobbit, also on that shelf. a two-thousand-page, enormous, annotated, unabridged shakespeare that is now in my parents' house because it's too big for my own shelves. if appetite for literature can be inherited i know exactly where i got it. my god, to sit at the little glass-top table with the vinyl tablecloth at seven in the morning, all the wide windows in front of us, sun coming up. birds crossing past. balcony and morning glories. the smell of tetley tea.

[jemandtherobots]

All 50 books I read in 2022, why I read them, and if I'd recommend them

Notes:

F = Finnish, i.e. the book was either written in Finnish or was translated into Finnish.

3 titles have been redacted bcos they're uhh self-help type books and I don't want you guys to know what I've needed help with.

Jeanne DuPrau - The City of Ember

I wanted to start the year off with an old favourite. Literally this was my fave book when I was 10 years old, and the one that got me into sci-fi.

Suzanne Collins - The Hunger Games trilogy

I think I saw a tumblr analysis post about these that made me want to re-read the series (and also, I was digging through my old books anyway). I think I liked these more now than I did ten years ago.

Kate DiCamillo - Because of Winn-Dixie

Another one from the pile of Books I Used To Love Many Years Ago. This one still holds up for sure, would recommend and not just to children.

Charlotte McConaghy - Migrations

Someone I follow online (an influencer!) recommended a different book by this author, but I found this one first and figured what the hell. It is a good book. It is a well-written book. But also as I was reading through every bad thing that had ever happened to the main character I kind of wanted to be like "isn't this enough? isn't is possible to write an interesting character without giving them every kind of trauma on the planet?".

redacted, (non-fiction)

A self-help book someone recommended in some Twitter replies, that happened to be on the audiobook service I was subscribed to for a couple of months. The advice in the book was very good but it didn't stick.

Rebekah Taussig - Sitting Pretty (non-fiction)

I don't remember how I came across this (it was also on the audiobook platform) but I'm so so glad I did. I don't just recommend this, I am physically coming to your house and making you read this book.

Alice Oseman - Solitaire

Final audiobook, listened to because I watched Heartstopper and figured I should see what Alice Oseman's works are about. I recommend this, if you don't mind a million Harry Potter references, mainly because I need the plot of this book to happen in the background of Heartstopper season 2 and I want people to understand.

Noora Tuhkanen - Kuuraattori (F)

I got (back) into poetry this year after attending a poetry open mic at my local library, and I decided I should read some poetry in Finnish. This one was alright.

Pauliina Haasjoki - Planeetta (F)

See above re: poetry. This one was actually on the librarian recommendations shelf and I only saw it as I was leaving the library, but the cover caught my attention so I went back for it. Glad I did; this is my favourite Finnish poetry I've read so far. A recommendation.

Jane Austen - Persuasion

I read this one fairly often anyway, but this year it coincided with the release of the trailer for the Netflix adaptation. Now that I'm writing this I'm thinking about The Letter so hard I might have to make this my first re-read of 2023. A definite recommendation.

Emmi Itäranta - Kuunpäivän kirjeet (F)

I bought this one ages ago because I will love and support anything Emmi Itäranta writes, but then I noticed it came out in the UK and I recommended it to a friend and immediately went "oh shit I should probably read it myself" so I read it really quickly and am pleased to say I didn't have to take back the recommendation. The best book Itäranta has written so far, if you're not from Finland please look up The Moonday Letters, this is probably in my top 3 books I've read all year. (Yeah, I recommend this.)

Eila Kaustia - Aikamerkki (F)

Poetry, Finnish, I was over at my grandma's for midsummer and it was on a bookshelf. I remember nothing about it, but I must have enjoyed it.

Jonathan Safran Foer - We Are the Weather (F translation, non-fiction)

I follow people online who are in what might be called the climate circles, heard good things about this one, read it, remember very little of it.

Bethany Clift - Last One at the Party

I've long had a thing for books in the "almost everyone in the world dies" genre (god knows why), but this wasn't it. Not bad, not the worst in the genre, but… could the sole survivor of the virus not have been a more interesting person, at least?

Mary Jean Chan & Andrew McMillan (ed.) - 100 Queer Poems

I feel like the title is explanation enough for why I bought this book. What more do you need to know? It's fuckin fantastic. I keep it on my bedside table and hug it occasionally. Would recommend.

Emily M. Danforth - Plain Bad Heroines

My local library has a section of books in English, and this one was in there with a rainbow flag sticker on the spine. Not sure how I feel about it, I mostly liked it but some parts made me go "uhh what the fuck". The writing itself was really good, though. I recommend it if you don't mind Weird Shit with your lesbian hauntings.

Dave Wolverton - The Rising Force

This one's a Star Wars book. About a young Obi-Wan Kenobi. Target audience: 9-y.o. boys (see: my brother when this book was bought for him) and me.

Mary Oliver - Blue Horses

This was a gift from a dear friend, and I treasure it almost as much as I treasure our friendship (a lot). Would recommend, both reading Mary Oliver and having friends.

Sini Helminen - Hurme (F)

This was one of my NaNoWriMo prep research books. I ventured into my library's YA section for this, to find Finnish fantasy books. I find it hard to rate this, considering it's in a genre I don't tend to read.

Elina Rouhiainen - Muistojenlukija (F)

More NaNoWriMo prep reading. I liked this more than I did Hurme, and wasn't even too distracted reading about the area of Helsinki where I'm from (fuck yeah Vuosaari). But again, it's not this book's fault, but fantasy YA just isn't for me.

Erin Sterling - The Ex Hex

NaNoWriMo prep reading of a different sort, this time a witchy romance. Felt a bit meh.

Ursula K. Le Guin - The Word for World is Forest

I'm a simple man: I see a Le Guin book, I read it. Obviously I would recommend this.

Ann Aguirre - Witch Please

Back to NaNoWriMo prep reading. Here's the thing: I read some questionable books in 2022. This was the worst. You may ask me why I hated it, but only if you want to hear a very long rant.

[redacted] (non-fiction)

A Humble Bundle book.

Charlotte Brontë - Jane Eyre

NaNoWriMo prep reading, again, this time taking the gothic romance approach. It's nicely written, and a classic for a reason, I guess.

Ryan O'Connell - Just By Looking at Him

Actually looked at my Bookbub email for the first time in years and this was in there! I loved Ryan O'Connell's Netflix show, Special, and I loved this book. I don't love what it did to my Google Play Books recommendations because it was marked as erotica. But I do recommend this book.

Remi Carrington - Wrangled by Lilith

Another Bookbub find, this one might even have been free. I saw the words "cowboy romance" and was somewhat disappointed.

Autokoulun oppikirja (F, non-fiction)

So I went to driving school, and this was the textbook I used for the written test. I guess I'd recommend it if you were learning to drive in Finland. The "what not to do" pictures were entertaining, so bonus points for that.

Claudia Burgoa & Grahame Claire - Holiday With You

Bookbub, free, Christmas romance. One of the better romance novels I read this year.

Ellie Cahill - I Temporarily Do

Bookbub, free, fake marriage trope. Also a pretty fun read.

CP Ward - Autumn in Sycamore Park

Bookbub, free, had a fun time with it.

Ashley Poston - The Dead Romantics

Bookbub, cheap, ghost romance. I liked it enough that I think I did recommend it to someone, and certainly enough that I was horrified when I saw it in a bookstore on the "tiktok made me buy it" shelf. I'd say this is my favourite booktok book I read.

Tamsyn Muir - Gideon the Ninth

This book was first marketed to me by a friend whose taste I do not trust (see "The Flatshare" and "Red, White & Royal Blue") as "sword lesbians in space" which obviously piqued my interest. Also, people on the internet who I don't see talking about books have been talking about this series for ages. And finally, I came across it at my local library. You guys were right, this is really good, and yes I would recommend it.

Sophie Ranald - No We Can't Be Friends

Bookbub, cheap (free?). Eh.

Rebecca Crowley - Shine a Light

Bookbub, cheap (free?). A holiday romance, set not at Christmas, but at Hanukkah. Obviously I'm reading it. And unlike many of the romance novels on my list this year: I would genuinely recommend this one if you enjoy the genre.

Emily M. Danforth - The Miseducation of Cameron Post

I guess I did like Danforth's Plain Bad Heroines enough that when I saw this in the YA section of the library I took it home. Not the most exciting book I've ever read, but fine.

Ali Hazelwood - The Love Hypothesis

The first time I saw this on the "tiktok made me buy it" shelf at the bookstore, I was curious as someone whose interests include romance and academia, but who got burned by a book about those a few years back. Then I heard it was originally a Reylo fic, and I knew I had to read it. Bookbub came through for me, I paid a euro, and… well, it's not the worst book I've read all year. I wouldn't recommend it, but I did have fun with it.

Anni Nupponen - Valkoinen kaupunki (F)

Of the books in my library's tiny sci-fi section, this one seemed the most promising out of the ones I hadn't read before, and it turned out to be So Good. The world-building was amazing. Unfortunately most of you will have to take my word for it because this book has not been translated into any other languages, sorry.

Diana Wynne Jones - Howl's Moving Castle (F translation)

The movie adaptation was my comfort watch of 2020, and this book my comfort read of the same year. I don't remember what made me think of it, but I got it out the library once more. Lovely book, what more can I say? Also, the translation is really good - I'm annoying and picky about translations but this one worked. Would therefore recommend both the book and the translation.

Mary Oliver - Swan & A Thousand Mornings (both F translation)

Well. I read these because I adore Mary Oliver (we know this) and I needed lines from poems I liked for a poetry class assignment. I would recommend the poems but not the translations.

Tiina Tuppurainen - Sinä olet perheeni (F)

I heard the author speak at a Pride event and I was curious about this book as a queer Finn. I very much wanted to like this book. I did not.

Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James - Winging It

Another cheap Bookbub find. As someone who has spent a lot of time reading a lot of Check, Please! fanfiction, what was I supposed to do, not read the gay ice hockey romance? I'd recommend it if you would like the experience of reading Check, Please! fanfiction except with different characters, but it doesn't really have much more to offer.

[redacted], non-fiction

Another Humble Bundle book.

Shirley Jackson - The Lottery and Other Stories

I've read and loved two of Shirley Jackson's novels, and I figured I would love her short stories just as much. I almost did. I think I just didn't "get" some of the stories which is really a me problem.

Beth O'Leary - The Flatshare

A pal recommended this, and I read the Finnish translation a couple of years ago, and I read it again because it came up for like 1€ on Bookbub and I remembered thinking it was okay. It's a fun concept, but a fun concept does not a brilliant book make. My 2020 self was right: it was okay.

Connie Willis - Doomsday Book

I bought this in like, 2015 or 2016, when my method for selecting a book was "as long as it's sci-fi written by a woman" (which is something I still do in bookstores). It's set around Christmas, so I have a tradition of reading it around then, going so far as to buy the ebook copy because my physical copy is with my brother. I would absolutely recommend this book, but not without content warnings.

Casey McQuiston - Red, White & Royal Blue

A friend (see above re: The Flatshare) actually recommended this to me back when it came out, so I was curious about it, and another friend read it and said they hated it. This second friend lent it to me with the words "I'd tell you to enjoy, but I don't think we can be friends if you do" and I'm happy to say I wouldn't recommend this book. It's a fun read, but it isn't good.

[leonbloder]

The Voice Of The River

I promised a friend that while on my solo road trip this summer, I would reread Herman Hesse's most influential and famous work, Siddartha. 

In the book, Siddartha leaves his family as a young man to pursue a contemplative life. He then becomes restless and discards it to pursue wealth, romance, and power. He then becomes sickened by his own lust and greed and walks away from everything once again. Siddartha finds himself near a river where he hears a unique sound. This sound signals the true beginning of his life—suffering, rejection, peace, and wisdom.  

The copy I have is around 35 years old, given to me by a co-worker who I had countless hours discussing faith and life with as I was then wholly walking away from Christianity.   

He inscribed, "I flatter myself to think that we are kindred spirits; may our paths cross often." 

Sadly, our paths have never crossed since then, but I have placed my copy of Siddartha on every bookshelf in every home office or church office I've ever occupied.  

I reread the book while I was on my trip, aware that I was reading about a spiritual journey while I was on my own spiritual journey.  

There is a passage toward the end of the book when Siddartha sits by a river, listening to it intently.  The river had spoken to him many times before, but suddenly he began to hear many voices.  

This quote landed on me, and I have considered it ever since: 

They all belonged to each other: the lament of those who yearn, the laughter of the wise, the cry of indignation and the groan of the dying.  They were all interwoven and interlocked, entwined in a thousand ways. And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world.  

After finishing the book, I went to a creek flowing just down the hill from my campsite, took off my shoes, and sat on a rock with my feet in the water.   

I did my best to listen for any voices that might be speaking to me in the rushing water, but I heard nothing except the sound of the creek and some screaming children playing downstream. 

My peace dissipated as I focused on the kids making noise.  

I felt myself growing annoyed, then angry.  I tried telling myself, "They're just kids having fun," but my desire had been to discover something about myself in the creek, and all I was discovering was that I was a grumpy old dude. 

However, the longer I sat there, the more I realized that the voices I was hearing "from the river" were full of joy and exuberance.  A slow smile grew as I imagined what was happening in the happy sounds and splashing in the distance. 

The river brought them joy, and they returned their happiness to the river.  I began to feel one with them.  I watched the water flowing around my legs and feet and had a vision that a part of me was joining with the kids downstream, splashing and laughing around them and with them. 

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for the shouts of joy to subside and quiet to return, except for the sound of running water and birds singing in the trees above. 

And these, too, had their own things to say to me, but I'll keep those conversations to myself now.  Suffice it to say, I found myself breathing more easily, the tightness in my shoulders relaxed, and I felt only gratitude. 

It's interesting how reading about other faith traditions has helped me grow in my faith and become less stringent in my beliefs.  

As I read the above passage from Siddartha, I couldn't help but recall the Apostle Paul's words about how God is the "ground of all our being" and that through Christ, "God was reconciling all the world to [Godself]."  He also boldly claimed that Christ is "in all, through all, and is all."  

For those of us who call ourselves Jesus-Followers, the one-ness of the Universe is something worth lifting up.  If we are willing to be still and listen, we can learn what this means for our lives and for the transformation of the world around us. 

May it be so, and may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen. 

[infinitethree]

There are times that, actually, Aster kind of hates most of his life.

One of the biggest reasons for that is that it can feel hard to breathe among the main population of the server. Too many of them look at him like…

Well, they look at him like he’s something to idolize. Something to put up on a pedestal and marvel and/or swoon over.

The idea of being together with basically anyone makes his skin crawl. He already feels a hell of a lot like he’s an imposter in the majority of situations; the last thing he wants or needs is to have to lie to a significant other.

Plus he’s just. Aggressively not interested.

The little chat he had with Theo after he’d gotten the earrings from the eldest and youngest Was-Taken brothers, in which they commiserated over how little they wanted to touch any of that…the years have only made that more and more true.

Aster is, ultimately, a fairly public figure. He also is carrying the burden of multiple secrets that could shatter the server– secrets that he has to hide from those he holds dearest.

So, when he wants to actually be able to breathe somewhere truly private…he retreats to the Council HQ.

The fancy rooms no longer bother him on a visceral level. Maybe it’s because they’re so familiar now– a sign of absolute safety.

…Or, almost absolute. There’s still the risk of Daz showing up to be a fuckin’ bastard.

Less so, lately. Daz has been more than a little preoccupied with teaching Lee and dealing with all of the fuckery surrounding the Scribe.

One of their rewards for their first deal was what, at first glance, looks to be a Magic 8 Ball.

It technically is. But it’s also so much more than that.

It’s the way that they can ask a questions to the Scribe. There are limitations, which Aster is pretty sure are listed on a piece of paper taped in the back of an innocuous book on the bookshelf in the potions room.

He hasn’t bothered to keep track of them. Being smart about this kind of thing isn’t his forte. He’s here to be brawn, and he’s very, very good at that part.

Not that he’s stupid. He’s just…very aware that Daz can, does, and will run circles around him.

Again, though; the bastard has been busy lately.

…It’s weird that it’s been so quiet without that jackass deliberately antagonizing him. Keeps making him feel like things are getting dangerous.

Uhg. He glares up at the ceiling of the main room from his place flopped on the couch. He doesn’t like that he’s not really even able to find peace here anymore.

Especially because the damn Observers are here. They’re not asking anything, though, so Aster sure as fuck isn’t going to offer them more than he’s obligated to.

Well isn’t this just pathetic!

Prime fucking damnit, that’s the last entity he wants to hear from. He’d take a million weird and invasive Observer questions over the Scribe deciding to focus their attention on him.

Oh, don’t look so sour. Due to some recent events– don’t worry about it– I’ve realized that maybe you’re not as much of a lame stick in the mud as I thought!

“My face and voice are broken. I can’t not look like this,” he points out, still not fully used to having to curb his snark for literally anyone.

Smartass. Look, do you want a deal or not?

His eyes narrow. Not bothering to get up from his relatively comfy pose, he tells the horrible entity likely capable of destroying everything he knows and loves, “Aren’t you supposed to give me reasons why I should do it? Isn’t that your whole thing– make me an offer I can’t refuse?” There’s a beat, and he tacks on, “Y’know, like the Devi?”

Laughter comes from the Scribe. Oh, man, this is why you’ve caught my eye! Not a lot of people would sass me. Even the brains of your operation is scared shitless, but you…see, I know you’re not stupid enough that you think it’s a good idea. You’re just…that kinda person. 

Almost against his will, Aster has learned to read tone well enough to get the impression that they don’t consider his boldness a bad thing.

Weird! Usually gods or whatever the fuck the Scribe is are touchy about respect. They certainly seemed to dislike when Daz got too mouthy, after all.

They continue, You’re right, though. So, Stardust, I know something has gnawed at you for a long time now. 

He does not take the obvious bait, and instead patiently lets them draw the suspense out for their reveal.

Don’t you want to know more about that bastard that dragged you into this mess? I mean, really– he doesn’t just have a few cards he’s holding back, he’s got a whole fucking deck he’s hiding! 

He is curious, but at the same time…it’s a horrible, almost violent violation of Daz’s privacy.

Daz has kept a lot of things secret, presumably for a reason. Going to someone else to pry his life open is liable to result in a nasty situation that Aster can’t possibly recover from.

Oh, and Lee wouldn’t forgive him. There’s that, too.

But despite how much he dislikes Daz as a person, he liked the idea of ripping his defenses away even less.

That armor is pretty much the only thing standing between Daz and a total mental breakdown. Daz going off the deep end is pretty much the worst-case scenario for the entire server.

Still, he’s not so dumb that he turns it down right away. “That’s an interesting proposal. What is it that you want from me?”

A new perspective. He’s hogging the spotlight and it’s getting on my nerves. Sure, yeah, he’s– interesting and nuanced and whatever. But variety is the spice of life, and you have proven to be capable of quite a bit of spice!

None of that makes much sense to him. Beyond the metaphor, he’s pretty sure the implication is that they’re all just entertainment and Daz is grating on them by now.

He has no fucking clue what they mean by him being spicy, though.

“That’s your motive, not what I would have to do,” he sighs.

Their voice is flatter this time. Impatient little shit, huh? Fine. Make things interesting, same task as that bastard. I want a reason to turn the camera away from him for once. Even if he has to be in the fucking scene, I’ll accept a change in POV. 

That makes him sit up. “Camera? Are you recording us?!” In a manner of speaking. Don’t look so surprised, it’s obvious! And, look– there’s a big secret that’s hovering over Sanctuary. You find that out, and I’ll give you a VIP tour of what’s really going on.

“I don’t–” And a wish! No rules, no limits. A single, solitary wish that you can use to get anything you can imagine. Reality will bend to your will. I’ll even let you trade it, if such a weighty prize doesn’t feel right in your own hands.

He swallows.

He doesn’t want the rest of it, especially not learning more about Daz, but…

A wish, huh?

Considering it makes him feel a bit sick, but he asks, “...What are the limits. Not the wish– you said that already. I mean the rest. What am I not allowed to do?”

As long as you give me something interesting, I don’t care what it is or how you do it.

“And…what are the consequences if I can’t pull it off?”

There’s a low, ominous laugh. You’ll forget this ever happened and I’ll make your life worse. 

There aren’t a lot of people that know better than Aster that Daz would accept this. Not only that, he’d come up with a masterful plan to make everything work out wildly in his favor.

Fuck. He hates this, but he can’t refuse it.

He gives a soft, humorless laugh of his own. “Alright, Satan. I’ll shake your hand.”

Excellent. A pleasure doing business with you, Stardust.

The camera suddenly snaps to the Showrunner.

They’re hovering over what looks like a representation of the Council HQ, and Aster himself, on the stage.

A wide, almost manic grin is on their TV-screen head. “Gentle audience, I’ll need your help with this one. You can suggest things you want him to see– things from the bastard’s life.”

The lights suddenly dim, and they add, “But be aware! My favorite little monster’s presence might be shown, but not perceived. At least, not yet.”

They roll over mid-air so that they’re on their back. “This is your chance to peek at any moments you feel didn’t get a proper scene! Not just within his backstory, but beyond. Prologue, sequel, even a sneak preview of upcoming attractions if you want to be so bold. Whether or not Aster sees inside his head will depend greatly on what makes things more fun.”

A loud giggle escapes them and they kick their feet in excitement. “Ohhhh this act is gonna be killer!”

[unstable-samurai]

Love is Intention (pt.1)

Male Reader x Sana

word count: 7.5K

tags: possessive girl, angst, obsession, passionate fan, psychopathy, love sex, blowjob, penetration, tease, stalker, sexual fantasy, mature male reader, dom girl...

Everything started on a rainy Friday. It was the damn book launch, your return after 8 cursed years without publishing anything. Your hands were as cold as a corpse. It was a trauma. Ever since the first time you had to put your face out there to promote your work, no one showed up. It was humiliating. People walked into the bookstore at the mall and saw you sitting alone at a table with two stacks of untouched copies of your book. You stayed there for four hours, and when someone finally seemed to come over, it was just a regular customer asking where the hell the Stephen King bookshelf was. And you can bet he had a shelf dedicated just to him, he was a genre unto himself.

But, well, does that really matter now?

This terrible experience didn't stop you from becoming a best-seller, anyway. Starting from the third book signing session, people were lining up just to get your autograph and shake your hand (the selfie craze wasn't popular yet). You didn't get an exclusive shelf with your name like King, but your books were next to those of great writers like Ernest Hemingway and J.D. Salinger and even contemporary geniuses like Chuck Palahniuk. Good enough for you.

There were 5 consecutive knockouts! Each book released broke the record of the previous one. In a span of 10 years, you reached your literary stardom, and, look at that, even Stephen King read and praised one of your books (the second one, where the schizophrenic protagonist believes she killed her own husband in a fight and now must decide whether to turn herself in to the authorities or get rid of the body. Plot twist: it was the husband who killed the wife. Good surrealist shit.)

Then you never published anything again.

Problems arose and your creativity seemed to vanish, along with your desire to write. The divorce, the alcoholism, the insomnia... depression, perhaps? All of this exploded in your face at once, leading you into a self-destructive spiral that seemed endless. You almost didn’t recover from it. Well, you were still recovering, truth be told. One day at a time and all that. And, well, a new book was yet another step towards a normal and stable life again. God and the devil knew how difficult it was for you to find the strength to write again. Your new book was just a collection of short stories, but we all need to start over from somewhere, right?

And what if no one shows up?

That damn thought wouldn’t leave your mind. 8 years… it’s enough time to forget an author. How many new ones must have appeared and become best-sellers by now?

“Don’t be so nervous. It’s still early. People will show up,” said Jessie, the assistant hired by your literary agent. He was unable to attend the occasion as his wife was in labor.

“Yeah… You’re right.”

“I know thinking is kind of your job, but don’t overdo it. Come on, have some coffee.” She handed you a cup; it was very hot, helping to warm your cold, lifeless hands. Jessie continued:

“Twitter got pretty excited when the publisher announced your book’s release. It must be the rain messing things up around here.”

She was a good girl. She knew how to read people, and she also knew you needed a bit of encouragement.

"The latest news about me was about my divorce and my problems with alcohol. I'm happy to still have a bit of credibility."

"An author only loses credibility if they publish a bad book and then another one right after. You could have committed a homicide and people would still be excited for a book of yours. That whole thing about separating the author from the work, you know what I mean? Literature is a world apart."

What she said was quite accurate in your view, fortunately or unfortunately. You noticed that she was very smart for a woman of just 20 years old.

"Did you know that I published my first book when I was your age?"

"Yeah, I know! You took over the literary scene in that decade. 'Young Writer Applauded at Festival and Becomes the Newest Best-Seller of the Year.' I read that old article when I found out I was going to work with you. You were really a phenomenon. And not to take away from your art, but that handsome face of yours helped to win over some fans."

You just lowered your head and laughed timidly.

"I guess now I can't count on my young face anymore."

"'Dilfs' are the trend now, sir!"

"And what the hell is that?" you asked curiously.

Suddenly, four people entered the bookstore together. They smiled upon seeing you, and you instantly knew they had come for the autograph session. Then two more people entered. They waved at you, and you felt the nervousness take over your body again, but this time for a good reason: people kept coming in. And there were still 20 minutes left before the book launch was to begin.

You had forgotten how special a book launch could be. Unfortunately, the mark left by the first event made you forget the good part of it. But from now on, you would strive to remember only how it was a warm and memorable occasion; being a relatively private event, you were practically surrounded only by people who truly appreciated your art and you as a person.

You had just finished the author's reading part. The first 20 pages of the first story seemed to please the audience, and the applause at the end of the reading was a relief for you. When was the last time you were given a standing ovation? A long time ago, obviously. It was time for questions, Jessie had warned you in advance that there were 3 journalists among the 61 readers present. The journalists were not wearing identification badges, so they were mixed in with the public, which included booktubers, superfans, and key influencers in the literary market. Perhaps with the idea of getting a 'pure' response from you to then publish in the media. So you should be prepared to get a good headline.

"Alright, hmm, I think now is the time for questions..." you announced to the audience, somewhat nervous.

Many people raised their hands. You chose the bearded bald man with glasses.

He stood up and asked:

“We know that there was a long gap between your last book and this new one. Has your writing changed during this time? Can we expect a more mature version of you in terms of your approach to delicate events that are the highlight of your writing?”

“Great question, thank you! Well, I have always approached these themes as an ordinary man. I am not a psychologist to make a clinical and scientific approach to certain things that my characters decide to do in the story. I have always valued accessible communication with the general public. Pain and feelings are universal, and the way we deal with them tends to be different, varying from person to person. Unconsciously, my writing has matured, a result of time, I believe, but I still follow the same approach that brought me here.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the bald man. He then pressed a button on his iPhone, which he had held up the entire time you were speaking.

You glanced slightly to the side, and Jessie winked at you. Your intuition was right about him being one of the journalists.

"Next question."

You chose a young Black girl wearing a beige overcoat.

"Hello! I just want to say that I'm happy to be here! My name is Carol, and I'm a big fan of yours! Hmm, ah, my question! Let me see... According to the synopsis and now the first pages of the story you read, it seems that each story, although different from one another, is connected by a central theme, which is the lack of connection with today's society. I wanted to know, how did you come up with these characters? Are they portrayals of current people, or are they mere fictional figures trapped in the past?"

"That's an excellent question too. Thank you, Carol. So, in the last few years when I wasn't writing, I wandered around a lot of places. I was a bit lost, to be honest, but one good thing about that difficult phase was having the opportunity to talk to all kinds of different people. Poor and rich. Everyone had something to say about the world, as well as their own problems with it. All I can say is that I didn't draw inspiration from any real person to create the characters, but rather from the experiences I accumulated during the good conversations I had with various people of different races, ages, and genders. Despite this, it's easy to recall someone familiar who has a story similar to Milly, the protagonist of the first story in the book, for example. My characters are almost always ordinary people."

"Thank you for answering!"

“You're welcome. Next question.” You paused briefly to drink some water, then continued, choosing a young woman sitting at the far right end of the last row of chairs, where the light from the lamp didn’t reach as well.

“Hello! Good evening, everyone! My name is Sana, I’m a big fan of your art and I’m happy about your return,” she said, quite excited.

You were startled when she stood up and you could see her better. Your heart suddenly raced. It was a strange sight. The girl, Sana, was wearing a long white dress with some flower prints.

Your ex-wife had a very similar dress. Quite a coincidence. So, you hid your look of astonishment and said:

“Thank you, Sana. You can ask your question.”

“I would like to know if your return is definitive. Are there more drafts stored or ideas for future projects? I read on the internet about a leak that revealed you were writing a script for a mini-series on a streaming service. Does this mean you are now dedicated to writing without long breaks?”

“I can't comment on this supposed leak. And I can't guarantee that my return won’t have more long breaks, but I am making an effort to maintain a healthy pace for myself and that also allows me to produce good works without delays.”

“Your long pause was due to external problems like the divorce and your alcohol dependency. Now that you’re rehabilitated, what are the chances of you returning to your old publication window of every two years?”

“Excuse me!” Jessie intervened. “I’d like to remind everyone that this event is dedicated to the book, not the author’s personal life. So, let’s keep the questions focused on the fiction, please.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to be intrusive,” Sana explained, smiling. “I’m just another fan who is immensely happy about the return of the favorite author, and who hopes to continue reading many of his books.”

"It's okay. As I said before, I can't guarantee anything. I hate unfounded promises like anyone else. I appreciate your kindness, Sana. I will strive to continue publishing frequently."

She smiled at you, satisfied with your response.

For the next question, you chose a gray-haired woman who seemed quite intellectual.

"There are rumors that your first book will be adapted into a movie. Can you tell us a little about that? And regardless of whether it's true or not, how would you feel about seeing your work being transferred to another medium, like with a new vision and maybe without your creative control?"

"We are in negotiations at the moment. I can't say more than that. Well, I wouldn't mind seeing someone else putting their vision into my stories; it would be something different, you know? Another work, not necessarily mine. I find it interesting and I am always open to film adaptations."

You continued for about 30 minutes. This stuff was quite tiring and after a while, it seemed to lose its purpose, but you kept smiling until the end.

Now all that was left was to sign the books. Each reader got your autograph and a copy of your new book. Everyone praised you and practically 90% of the audience took a selfie with you.

There were only 5 people left to finish the autographs when it was that girl's turn.

"Hello!" she said, extending her hand to greet you. You shook her hand. It was small and soft, like a porcelain doll's hand. "I was quite anxious for this."

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long. Lines can be quite unbearable."

"It's all right, I've learned to be patient.”

You noticed that she was staring at you. For a fan, she was not shy at all. She was beautiful too. Very beautiful. You would probably be falling in love with Sana if you were the same age as her and were the type of writer who gets dazzled by any special attention from a pretty girl.

“Sana, right? Well, I’ll sign your book now.”

You picked up a copy and signed it.

“‘To Sana, a special fan. May these pages entertain you and perhaps mean something to you in the end.’” You finished with your signature. “Here. Thank you for coming.”

“Oh my God! You don’t know how happy I am! Can I ask you to sign another book of yours? It's my favorite!”

She took the book out of her bag and handed it to you, then you signed it with quick precision.

“You’re so sweet! Oh, could you tell me how long you will be in the city? And sorry if I'm being too nosy..."

“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, what a shame. You don’t know how special this evening has been for me.” Sana sighed. “I just wish I had more time to talk to you.”

“Hey, girl!” exclaimed the woman in line behind Sana. “You’ve been talking to him for about 5 minutes! There are more people wanting to get an autograph, you know?!”

Sana didn’t reply but shot a cold, empty look at the woman that made her nervous.

“It was really a dream to meet you in person.” She placed her hand on yours. Slowly, she said, “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime, won’t we?”

You gave a soft laugh and replied:

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You smiled formally at her. “Have a good night, Sana.”

“You too.” She said in a voice a little too sweet for your taste.

"The night was amazing!" said Jessie cheerfully. The two of you were eating at a diner after the book launch had ended. "You answered all the questions really well. Especially the ones from the journalists."

"Thank you. I did my best."

"When it becomes a bestseller, and it will, obviously, we'll organize a new book signing session, this time a lecture. Your arm will get tired from signing so many books!"

"I'm very grateful for all your help, Jessie."

"It's just my job. Besides, actually, I should be grateful to you for employing me. I had some bills to pay that were keeping me up at night."

"But it was my literary agent who hired you."

"Yes, he needed an assistant for one of his writers, and here I am. There were no openings available for me, and I was starting to worry if I would find a job or not. Then a miracle happened! Suddenly the preparations for your new book launch began, and 'boom!', Jessie is working again, baby!"

"In that case, I guess we helped each other."

"You bet!"

"It's good to be back. I had forgotten how much I loved writing."

"It's good to have you back! Now that all the launch chaos is over, what are you going to do?"

"Write."

"Already?"

"I'm just going to start drafting a novel I have in mind. I'm thinking of spending a few weeks in a secluded cabin I bought to write in peace without interruptions."

"That sounds great! It's a good way to relax, actually. But I personally wouldn't go where Amazon delivery doesn't reach; that's my limit of isolation. Another cup of coffee?”

"“No. I need to sleep.”

“You can order a decaf coffee.”

“Even so. I've already exceeded my daily caffeine limit.”

Jessie asked the waitress for another cup of coffee for herself.

“I'm sorry we're not celebrating in a bar as tradition dictates.”

“Don't say that! It's no problem. I appreciate your more reserved style of celebrating; the last writer I assisted liked to let loose with his pseudo-intellectual friends. I was completely uncomfortable at those parties, damn it.”

"Okay, so get ready 'cause next time I'll take you to play bingo with some elderly people!"

"Fuck yeah!" And she laughed. "Hey, the people who were at the event are already tweeting about it. Really positive feedback! Hmm, and even that annoying literary critic released a review of your book. I haven't read it yet, but from the headline, it seems he liked it. His idiot followers are going to sell out your book on Amazon now. Flawless victory!"

You two talked for another hour about various subjects, and then you realized that you would like to have her around always because working with Jessie sped things up and she was fun company too.

Around midnight, you both decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel. She went in first, and you decided to stay outside a bit longer to smoke a cigarette. You sat on the curb near the hotel façade and lit a cigarette. You weren't exactly a smoker. Only about five cigarettes a month, at most. The urge to smoke at that moment came naturally, healthily, just to end the night and have more time to reflect on the day before going to sleep. Things were finally falling into place, and you wanted to enjoy this feeling of peace a little longer. The street was very calm. The cold, damn, was intense. Although the rain had stopped, the wind remained relentless, and your blazer was your hero.”

"Can I join you?" asked a sweet voice.

You instinctively looked back.

"Sana?! Is that you?" you asked, quite startled.

It took you a few moments to recognize her because Sana had changed clothes, now wearing something more comfortable and that protected her from the cold.

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten my name."

She sat down beside you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was heading back to the hotel."

"Oh, are you staying at this hotel too?"

She smiled at you.

"What a coincidence, right?"

"Yeah... It's quite chilly, isn't it?"

"True. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course. Feel free to ask anything."

"Who is that girl who's always with you?"

"What?"

"The brunette girl who wears glasses. She was always around you at the bookstore."

"Oh, you mean Jessie? She's my assistant. She helped with organizing the event. Very smart girl."

Sana scoffed and laughed.

"Smart, huh? Okay... Do you like girls like that?"

"It's a good quality in anyone."

"Except when they're arrogant towards people," Sana remarked, a little bitterly.

"That's true. Luckily, Jessie isn't that kind of person."

"Oh, really?" Sana questioned. "But let's stop talking about her now."

"Did you stay here just for the book launch?"

"Of course. I traveled just to see you, silly." She placed her hand on your knee. "You looked so lonely sitting here."

"I was just about to go into the hotel."

"Can we go in together? What do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Don't pretend you don't."

Yeah, you could get an idea. Her tone of voice was unmistakable. Sana obviously wanted to go to bed with you, and since the bookstore, you felt something different coming from her. It was hard to explain exactly what it was... whether it was good or bad... You couldn't say.

"Please, Sana. I'm much older than you..."

"I'm not as young as I look. And I know you want this too."

Her hand slid up your thigh. Sana had a warm, comforting touch, and an intrusive thought made you imagine what it would be like for that hand to touch your cock.

"Look, I'm not that kind of guy," you stood up. "I don't take young girls infatuated with idols to bed. It's not right."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" she said, almost shouting.

"For me, it's wrong, Sana."

"Am I not attractive enough?"

The devil knew how attractive she was. That face, those eyes, that smile, the scent... It was all too familiar. And her slender body... It had been a while since you had sex. Since the divorce, you hadn't been with anyone else. There were attempts from some women, but you pushed them away due to the self-loathing you felt.

Were you still doing this? Had therapy failed?

No, this was a different situation.

"Sana, you're beautiful. You caught my eye the moment I saw you at the bookstore. Not just mine, I bet. You're a stunning woman, but this just... isn't right for me. I'm sorry, I need to go in now."

"Your attention is the only one I want. We can get to know each other better if that's the issue. I rea-"

You left her talking alone on the sidewalk and entered the hotel. You felt bad for doing that, but damn it, you knew she wouldn't give up if you kept stringing her along.

In the bedroom, finally, you were getting ready to go to sleep. You needed to get up early for a meeting with your literary agent via Zoom; in the afternoon, you would catch a flight back home and finally rest properly. You lay in bed, eyes closed, trying to sleep, trying to think of anything other than that woman. Girl. She was just a girl. After a while, it became difficult to hold onto any thoughts; you knew you would fall asleep soon…

Knock, knock!... Knock, knock!

You opened your eyes, somewhat groggy. Did someone knock on the door? You could have sworn you heard it. But sometimes you heard sounds from beyond, mere creations of your mind. Despite that, you got up and decided to investigate anyway. You looked but didn't see anyone through the peephole. You thought about going back to bed, but something stronger than you made you open the door and glance down the hallway.

She was leaning against the wall to the left of the door.

"Sorry to bother you again," Sana said timidly.

"What are you doing here? And how did you find my room?" you asked, not in an annoyed tone. You were still half-asleep to fully grasp the situation.

"That doesn't matter. I wanted to apologize to you for everything I said."

She seemed genuinely sad, remorseful maybe. And faced with her sadness, the first thing you thought about was how beautiful she looked in that silk pajama, casually sexy, with long sleeves and short shorts that revealed Sana's beautiful thighs. It was the pajama you most enjoyed seeing on women. Tremendous coincidence.

"It's okay. Look, I'm not angry with you. Let's forget all this, alright? Go back to your room and get some sleep."

"And you think I'll be able to sleep?" she asked, looking deep into your eyes. "If you were in my place, could you sleep knowing that the love of your life is in another bed on a floor above yours?"

You took a moment before answering.

"Probably not. But there's nothing I can do about it, Sana."

"I've dreamed of this moment for years. When you turned your back on me out there, I felt like dying. It hurt."

You took a deep breath. It was like being trapped in a submarine that kept sinking. You saw her eyes shimmering with tears that could spill at any moment.

In these dilemmas, everything seems to lose its purpose for a moment. And a moment is enough to derail everything else. You knew that, but even so:

"Come in," you said to her.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. It's cold out in the hallway. Let's talk a bit in here."

Sana entered; you asked her to sit on the edge of the bed with you.

"I'm not exactly sure what to say. But maybe you're fixated on a parasocial relationship doomed to fail."

"How can you say that without even trying first? I know you're hurt. Believe me, I understand that perfectly. But I want to prove to you that you can trust someone again. I want to repay what you've done for me."

"This is so damn strange, Sana. So strange that I can't even properly grasp what's happening."

She moved a bit closer to you.

"You've been my peace of mind since I read your first book. Your characters, your stories, your interviews, your lectures — everything was a refuge for me! I followed everything you did. I never missed an episode of that segment you and your friend hosted on the radio talking about movies. And the signal was awful in my town," she told you, ridiculously excited. You almost felt sorry for her in that moment.

"Sana, you don't understa-" You suddenly felt a chill run through your entire body. A tightening in your chest. The scent of Sana... It was familiar for a reason: she was wearing the same lilac perfume that your ex-wife used to wear. You thought you'd never smell that fragrance again.

"Is something wrong?" Sana asked, concerned.

"No, nothing," you replied.

Your voice wouldn't pass through your throat. A sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you.

"Are you sure?" She held your hand. "Your expression changed so suddenly."

"I'm just tired."

"I know you've been through a lot in recent years. So many problems... You've been terribly lonely." She touched your face. So soft... You just wanted her to continue. "You need a woman to take care of you. Someone who truly knows you and admires you, and who will never, ever leave you.”

“No. Look, Sana, you’re confusing things again. I didn’t call you here to-”

“Shh! You think too much! Just for tonight, set reason aside and feel the vibe a little.” Sana slowly slid her hand over your chest, stopping where your heart was. Then she whispered, “You realize? Your body wants it. And if I put my hand on your cock now, I’d be twice as sure of it.”

Sana sat on your lap. She kissed your cheek slowly and whispered in your ear: "touch me. Please, touch me." The words seemed to float with some kind of magic, and before you could notice, you were enchanted by her. You held Sana’s waist and brought your face closer to her neck, breathing in that fragrance that was once so familiar to you. "Kiss me", Sana said. Your lips touched her neck, kissing every inch of her delicate skin very slowly as your mind was transported to a place you missed. You heard her breathing grow heavier, then Sana started lightly kissing your earlobe while stroking your hair. The kisses turned to licks, then to nibbles, and finally, to sucking. You pressed her body against yours, overwhelmed with shivers. Sana moved her hips over your groin; you knew she was feeling the outline of your cock, enjoying driving you crazy, and, of course, adding more fuel to the fire spreading inside her.

“Lie down on the bed, baby,” she purred.

You didn’t have time to react as Sana pushed you down while staying on top of you. Viewed from above, Sana exuded a frightening confidence, and the way she guided you made it clear that this was obviously not new to her.

“I’m going to suck you now. Just lie back and relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You felt Sana's teasing touch as she pulled down your pants along with your underwear, her eyes shining with insatiable lust. Her warm lips enveloped your cock with hypnotizing skill, each movement of her tongue tracing paths of pure pleasure. "I’ve always wanted to taste you," she whispered, her voice laden with malice, before taking you deep into her mouth. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt every nerve in your body pulse with excitement; your extremely sensitive cock reacted intensely to each suck, lick, and kiss from Sana. You hadn't had sex in years, and even masturbation was no longer part of your life, so the intensity of the situation consumed you quickly to the point of making you explode like fireworks. "I’m gonna cum," you warned, but she just kept eye contact, Sana’s eyes challenging as she sucked harder. "Cum in my mouth, you pervert," she commanded, and you did, a hoarse moan escaping your lips. Sana swallowed all your cum, smiling mischievously as she slowly licked her lips. "Mmm, delicious," she murmured, then squeezed your cock to get every last drop left at the tip, capturing it with her tongue as it dripped, licking it like ice cream while you rolled your eyes in pleasure.

Sana didn’t give you time to catch your breath. Before reason could return to your mind, she was already sliding her lips over your body, planting wet and voracious kisses on your thighs. She asked you to take off your shirt, and so you did. Her lips reached your nipples, licking and sucking them with an almost painful intensity. "You’re going to get hard for me again, you naughty writer!" she murmured against your skin, her eyes shining with a wicked determination, her adorable face carrying a demonic facet at the same time. "I know you still have breath for me; I can see it in your eyes," she teased, her hand working skillfully on your erection, the firm and rhythmic movements quickly bringing your cock back to life. You felt the excitement growing again, unable to resist her skill.

Sana took off her shorts and turned around, getting on all fours in front of you, raising her ass invitingly, her hips swaying provocatively. "Come fuck me, I want to feel you filling me," she taunted, her voice both an invitation and a challenge. "Come on, don’t be shy now," she laughed, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You’re mine, only mine," she said, her voice laden with possession. You positioned yourself behind her, your hands firmly gripping her hips as you penetrated her forcefully. The sensation of being inside her, so warm and tight, was intoxicating. Sana moaned loudly, pushing back against you with every thrust. "Yes, harder," she begged, her voice filled with desire and need. "Fuck this tight pussy," she ordered, and you obeyed, each thrust making her moans echo through the room, the humid and hot atmosphere building to a crescendo.

Soon, you both got out of bed. Sana was being pressed against the wall by you, her hands held above her head by yours. "You're a fucking slut," you whispered in her ear, your voice a possessive growl as you penetrated her deeply and squeezed her small breasts. "And you love this, don't you?" she responded, her voice a mix of command and plea. "Come on, fuck me more," she teased, her eyes closed in pleasure. "I want you all to myself," she moaned. You lifted one of her legs, allowing an even deeper and more intense penetration. "Yeah! Like that, baby!" she moaned, the sound of skin against skin, her moans, and heavy breathing filled the room.

Finally, you returned to the bed, where Sana positioned herself on top of you. She began to sit on your cock with her back to you, her slow and sensual movements driving you crazy. "Your cock goes so deep in my pussy! Admit it, I fuck better than your ex-wife, don't I?" she teased, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You know I'm right, you're loving me so much!" You could only nod, pleasure dominating every fiber of your being. "You're mine, and only mine. You can do anything to me, I don't care," she murmured possessively. Then, she turned around and started riding you facing forward, her hands entwining with yours. "I'm going to make you cum again, you naughty boy," she promised, increasing the pace. Every movement she made was erotic, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. And she smiled at you between moans with passion and devotion, Sana was simply incredible. "Tell me I'm the best you've ever had, tell me I'm better than your ex-wife," she demanded, her eyes locked on yours. "Tell me you love me," she insisted, her voice loaded with an obsession that only made the sex more exciting.

The tension was growing, the arousal becoming unbearable, and you could feel the climax approaching rapidly. "I can't take it anymore," you panted, but Sana just smiled wickedly. "You can cum inside me if you want. I'm all yours!" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with desire. With a sudden realization, you stood up and pulled her, laying Sana on her back on the bed (the last thing you wanted right now was to get a fan pregnant). Your sweaty and trembling body positioned above her. "Come on, fuck me more! Don't stop now, love," she taunted, her eyes locked on yours, her voice laden with desire and possession. "You're making your woman so happy, did you know that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You penetrated her again, the movements intense and fast. Your moans intensified, the bed creaking softly as you fucked Sana with renewed ferocity. The pleasure was palpable, an electric current between you. You felt every muscle in your body tense, the climax inevitable. "Come on, fill me with your cum," she moaned, her voice laden with lust and desperation.

"Cum for me, please!" she moaned, her eyes locked on yours with passionate intensity. With one final, powerful movement, you withdrew from her, feeling your body pulse with pleasure. You quickly started to masturbate, your fingers moving frantically along your cock as the pleasure built up. "Yes, cum on my belly, make a mess on it," she encouraged, her gaze fixed on yours with insatiable hunger. Finally, you exploded, spraying your hot cum on her belly, each spurt accompanied by a hoarse moan of relief and ecstasy. “Cum more, baby! Give me all that milk! Yes! Yes! Mmmm, so warm, baby.” The hot liquid covered Sana's sweaty skin, and you rubbed the head of your cock on her thigh... soft as hell.

Sana smiled, satisfied, her eyes shining with a sickly love that at that moment even seemed logical to you. She was irresistible; that was the problem. Before you could see it, you were on top of her, planting kisses on Sana's lips while her fingers traced circles on your chest, somehow still connected by the moment of pure lust. "You are mine, and I will make you feel that every time," she whispered, her eyes still shining with desire. "See? We were made for each other. This is love, dear," she murmured, making it clear that this wouldn't be the last time she claimed you so intensely. "I’m going to get you addicted to me, my little writer," she promised, making the moment even more erotic and suffocating.

Still gasping for breath, you gazed at each other, bodies pressed together, sweat mingling between you. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed Sana with overwhelming passion, your tongues meeting with deep desire. Sana responded with equal fervor, her hands tracing lines of fire across your body wherever they touched. "You taste so good," she murmured between kisses, her fingers gripping your muscles, pulling you closer still. "It's just like I dreamed it would be."

Your lips trailed down her neck, nibbling and sucking on delicate skin as she softly moaned in your ear. "I love you… Don't leave me, please," she pleaded, struggling to suppress a compulsive urge to cry in your arms. Your bodies moved in perfect sync. Your hands slid down her back, firmly holding her waist as she rubbed her body against yours, sparking renewed excitement.

You rolled on the bed, bodies intertwined, exploring every inch of each other's skin. "You're mine," she repeated, her voice laden with possessive desire, her hands roaming your chest, her lips never far from yours for long. Every kiss, every touch, carried an almost unbearable intensity, a need to reaffirm the delicate connection that had formed between you.

Finally, the two of you settled down, still kissing, the caresses becoming gentler but no less passionate. "I want you more than anything," she murmured against your lips, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your chest. "You don't need to speak right now. I accept all this silence, for now. I know you're processing what just happened, but understand that I will make you want only me… You'll see," she asserted, her gaze meeting yours, making it clear that the promise of pleasure and possession wouldn't end there.

You woke up in a silence too good to be true. Terribly calm and comfortable. Of course, because you were not alone. That girl, Sana, sleeping peacefully like an angel on your chest. She had a serene and innocent expression, very different from the girl you saw last night. You got up slowly, being careful not to wake her.

What the fuck!!

You checked your phone and saw that it was already past noon. You had slept through the entire morning and missed breakfast with Jessie, where she was supposed to give you the details of your participation in a YouTube literature channel. Several missed calls from Jessie and your literary agent. Damn, you also missed the meeting with your literary agent.

Failing again. You were letting people down, and that's how everything started to go downhill in your life. ‘I’m a Best-Selling author, these things don’t affect me.’ Your arrogance was part of your downfall.

You looked at Sana, she was still sleeping.

And it's all her fault...

No, you were just blaming someone else again. You thought you had set the alarm on your phone but it was on silent mode. Weird as hell. You never leave your phone on silent.

Ah, screw it all! You went to take a shower; it would certainly help clear your mind. Then when you came out of the bathroom, Sana was sitting on the bed.

“Good morning, baby,” she said. “Come here!” Sana extended her arms, expecting you to go to her.

“You need to go now,” you said curtly.

It was time to end this once and for all.

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Now! What we had was a mistake, Sana.” You took a deep breath. No point in getting stressed now. “I can call a car for you if you want.”

She looked at you, confused.

“What do you mean by ‘a mistake’? Wasn’t what we had special to you?”

“It meant nothing, Sana. I lost my mind at that moment.”

She got up from the bed, deeply irritated.

“I thought I knew everything about you, but I guess I was wrong! Yeah, even I can be wrong sometimes... Do you do this to all the girls who are your fans? Take them to bed and then discard them like trash?”

“I never slept with a fan! This was the first and last time.”

“Don’t do this to me!” she shouted, pointing her finger in your face. “You can’t use me like a toy, I’m warning you, this will have consequences!”

“It was you who came knocking on my door, Sana! Look… just forget it, okay? If I misled you, I apologize. I was a jerk. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You don’t understand. Damn it, you don’t understand… You are the reason I live! I waited so long for this, waited so long to find you… I thought I did everything right… How can you do this to me?” Sana asked, her voice breaking.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Sana.” you tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder. “Take a shower, eat something. You’ll feel better. And go home, please.”

“You can’t do this to me,” tears were in her eyes. “I did everything for you, you know? Everything, you bastard!”

You were caught off guard by a slap. The sound echoed loudly in the room.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked, more incredulous than angry.

She walked past you and went to the door.

“I swear to God, this isn’t the last time you’ll see me. You’re mine, understand? I’ll forgive you this time because I still feel that affection you showed me last night. I know it was real! I’ll try not to think about what happened now.”

“Hmm, okay.” you said, relieved. “That’s great.”

In a few hours, you’d be flying back to your city and, obviously, would never see her again.

“You don’t mess with a woman’s feelings like this, you know? You hurt me here, but I forgive you because I love you, okay?” she was silent for a few moments, perhaps waiting for you to return those words or apologize. But you stayed silent. “I love you more than my life, and I will fight for our love. And next time... you won’t be able to escape me.”

She closed the door.

“Fuck, finally!”

The words she said during sex… they weren’t just dirty talk to turn you on… she really meant them.

You went to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. To your dismay, Sana’s hand was marked on your face.

"Wow! You must have been incredibly tired!" Jessie said to you as you met at the airport.

"I'm really sorry for missing breakfast and lunch. I promise it won't happen again."

"It's all right. You were a hit yesterday; the boss and I will give you a pass. By the way, you talked to him, right?"

"Yes. Everything's sorted out."

"He's really freaking happy about the new baby, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is!"

"So, I'll give you the details of the interview during the flight. Hmm, did you eat anything?"

"Burger and fries."

"You need to eat better. You can't just eat that kind of stuff. When your schedule gets really busy, you won't want to get sick." She warned, and you couldn't help but find it funny that a 20-year-old girl was acting like your nanny. "Lunch was great, sir. You really missed the best part of the day."

"You must have waited for me a long time, huh? I feel terrible about it."

"Oh, of course not. After you texted me saying you weren't coming to lunch, I went ahead and ate alone!"

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"The message. I didn't text you."

"You literally sent me a message saying you were exhausted and would keep sleeping. You must have been half-asleep when you typed it and forgot."

You took your phone out of your pocket, completely desperate. You opened the chat with Jessie and there it was: 'I'm more tired than I thought, not coming to lunch. Oh, and the meeting is postponed too. Sorry!!'

Fuck...

You felt a chill in your stomach. Sana had sent that damn message. How the hell did she know your phone's password? The most plausible answer was that she used your fingerprint to unlock the phone while you were sleeping. That girl was really sick.

"Are you okay?" Jessie asked.

"Yes, sure! It's nothing."

It wasn't worth mentioning to Jessie that Sana had sent the message; you would have to explain everything to her, and the whole story was embarrassing and weird. When it came to revealing that you slept with a young woman just because she wore the same perfume as your ex-wife (there were other things besides the perfume, but mentioning the rest would only worsen your image), you would have no credibility left and would certainly be considered a disturbed person by Jessie.

The best thing to do was to forget everything that happened yesterday, except for the book launch, and then move on with your life. You were going to 'take a vacation' soon, so this series of bizarre events would soon fade from your mind… Thank God!

Later on the plane, you were looking for some photos of the book launch to send to your sponsor, the guy who was helping you avoid alcohol relapses. He was a good man and would surely be happy to know that your return to literature had been successful. You were scrolling through the photos taken last night when one of them caught your attention. In fact, it scared the hell out of you. You kept scrolling through the gallery, and the photos seemed endless, many in a row that looked very similar to each other. You almost dropped your phone on the floor.

You quickly turned off your phone screen and looked at the seat next to you. Fortunately, Jessie was sound asleep.

You turned your phone screen back on and opened one of the photos, analyzing it for a few seconds. It seemed unreal. It was as if the surprises never ended. While you were sleeping, Sana had stealthily taken your phone to snap all this photos. It was conclusive proof that she had indeed violated your privacy, perhaps thinking the would be a special memento of that night.

But

In reality

It was a reminder of a terrible mistake you made.

To be continued...