Hi! I hope you’ve seen the new Doctor Who Flux! I thought it was amazing! I just thought I HAD to share this because, well, I can’t be the only one who noticed the tension between Yaz and the new girl, Claire. There is something in the back of my head that is making me think that Claire could be a love interest for Yaz? But that’s just a theory… A GAY THEORY-

Yesss it was amazing!!! So far it’s one of my all time faves😈

SHEHSHDEH YEAH I NOTICED OMG, im so excited for next episode aaaaaaaa

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VIII

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m sorry for the delay! However this weekend I’ll be posting frequently! I’m working already in the next chapters and a request! Thank you so much for your patience and support! I love you all!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VII) (Chapter IX coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 144

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They can't die." 

(Y/n) heard a brittle voice from another room. It was late at night. Not knowing the exact hour. But they were supposed to be slipping a time ago. They could not. They felt especially exhausted and craved sleep. No, they needed to sleep. Normally they would simply hug their stuffed animal or pillow and sleep to the sound of one of their records. But their chest ached loads. And although they had already gotten accustomed to that sensation, that night the IV bothered them. Except that was not what disturbed them the most. 

(Y/n) knew that voice. It troubled them to hear the state of distress in which they were. What if something bad happened to them? What if they were in trouble?

Perhaps at that time, it was (Y/n) who was most scared.

They had to go check. They sounded afflicted; As if they were on the verge of crying, or maybe already crying. (Y/n) couldn't just know they weren't okay and remain stationary. Even if the uncertainty was enormous, the fear that loved ones were wrong was greater. It was not correct to do nothing. 

They moved the blankets that embraced them and got up. They fixed their pajama bottoms, and, as they took the first step forward, they felt a sting in their right arm.

-"Right..."-they muttered to themselves, to turn to the metal pole holding the serum and medicine. They slowly approached the big white door of their bedroom, opening it doubtfully and carefully. They could see a glow from under the door of the room at the edge of the long corridor. (Y/n) led towards it with feline-like gaits, quiet and attentive. The closer they got, the nervous. They didn't want to get in trouble or disturb, but they didn't want to wait still. What if they needed their help? How could they resist? How could they ignore it? They tightened their grip on the metallic pole, leaning on it. They stared at the poorly closed door for a moment, doubtful. The brittle voice was heard again.

"It's not fear, they're only 4, it's not fear."- Even more troubled that time.

Which prompted them to sneak through the door. They opened the door wider and carefully slinked their head in to observe. The room was large, the garden could be seen from the glass door of the balcony and the large window next to the bed. An older, rather large, and stocky man dressed in pajamas and a thick sweater sat in a single chair in front of a television. He was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He was covering his face to hide his tears and try to deafen his sobs. A woman, equally older, in a disordered aspect and a pajama nightgown was at his side, hugging him and rubbing his back to calm him. The woman had a frown and a depressed glower on her face, cheeks also stained in tears.

"They won't, they can't. I'm praying, I have faith, no god can be that cruel with such a lovely child."-her kind and crumbled voice told, with a fusion of comfort and conviction in those words with a touch of fear and doubt as well.

If they were crying like this, it was because something serious had happened. 

"Papi, why are you crying?"- the kid muttered, clutching to the tip of their clear pajama shirt. They were scared. They had never seen their grandfather cry before, less so desperately. They felt that they were trembling and twitching their toes. Even with their serious expression, his eyes were saturated with concern. 

"(Y/n)..."-The man raised his head to see them. A tear leaking from his dilated reddish eyes.

They advanced slowly and vacillating, but its presence had already been announced, and could not, as much as they wanted to, plainly leave.

"Nothing... why are you awake?"-The man rubbed his eyes and quickly wiped his face.

(Y/n) was clutching and rubbing their clothes with both hands now. They looked away for a moment, slightly swaying side to side in uncertainty.

"Were you sad because I'm sick?"-they hinted, as they looked the old man in the eye. Which was not extremely frequent. Ignoring the question.

The man looked back at them, softening their gaze.-"Why-why are you saying that?"- he blinked a few times to disperse the tears and worry.

They looked away once more, rubbing the textile of their shirt in between their fingers.

"Because... if you were sick... I'll cry too."-the kid mumbled, but quickly looked back at the man in front of them with a soft smile.-"But don't be sad! Because I'm fine now. Since the doctors let me come home, it means I'm healthier now!"- The man stared at them as not knowing that he could answer. 

"Sugar, why are you still awake?"- the old lady asked this time. Leading towards them.

"I... eeh... woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."-they promised, looking down.-"Are you mad?"

"No! Of course not, but it's still late. Let's go to bed, fine?"-The older woman took their hand and the metal pole and proceeded to accompany them back to their bedroom. Her hold was secure as if they were going to vanish at any given moment as if he were going to transform into sea foam and never see them again.  She did not stop holding their hand until (Y/n) tuck back into bed. The woman arranged the beddings and stared at them for a moment. (Y/n) wouldn't forget that regard easily. The stares their grandmother gave her were usually happy and sweet, like when you receive your favorite candy. This time, it was charged with despair, like that of a helpless animal once cornered.

"Mami... don't be sad. I'm getting better! So don't worry, I'll be fine! Okay?"-They declared with a smile. They were a touch fearful, but they preferred to know that their grandparents were fine. Of everything that was occurring to them at that time, seeing them desperate was the most damaging.

"I know you will be (Y/n), I'm sure of it."- the elder gave her best effort to smile and gently petted their hair. 

At no poinT (Y/n) did believe that she was lying to them. Except, deep down, they knew they still needed comfort. They inclined forward, sat down, and hugged her. It was the best they could do at the moment. Most adults, who knew them superficially, though they were cold and formal children. Most adults, who knew them superficially, thought they were a cold child. It was not true, not at all. They did have certain emotional problems. Although, their grandparents knew how sweet they truly were. They may not be clingy in public or hug everyone, that was true. Simply once that person felt comfortable adequately, they would talk to you all day and follow you everywhere, like a puppy follows its owner. They were calm but loved with intensity and passion. The single problem was that only a few had that privilege.

The woman hugged them back, easing into the contact. She was not alone, and they were still with her.-"Goodnight (Y/n)."

~ 

For those who were once inhabitants of that house, it had been a difficult night. The couple continued to feel bad. The man commonly knew how to act wisely, thanks to his years of experience. Just he felt inexpert that time.

(Y/n) was sitting on a soft sofa, reading one of the many books they had in the library. They adored those books and would read as many as possible. There were all kinds: from fantastic fairy tales, to their personal history, to academic studies that they half understood. They were a little too small for the chair, and their legs dangled. Something characteristic of them from an early age was that they were more attentive than they might seem. In addition to high sensitivity to auditory stimuli. It was not strange they overheard a conversation.

"It's outrageous, mum! Their only child is sick, and neither of them shows up to even get notice!"- it was his voice.-"I'm not sure what to do. The other doctors said it was better if he had a few last quiet moments at home ... It's cruel, mum... very cruel."

They put the book on a small table next to the sofa and moved to the counter that was at the entrance, where the phone was.

"Papi, who are you talking to?"-They asked one they were right behind the man. Another thing about them was that they were imps. They liked to play, but they did not do things out of evil.

The sir jumped in surprise. The kid was good at sneaking around; you could tell they were a cat.

"You scared me, I'm on the phone with your Grand-mami."- the elder turned around to them to reply, moving the phone a bit away from his face.

Oh! That sweet old wolf!

"Grand-mami?! Let me talk to them!"- They raised their hands, happily rocking from side to side. The man brought the phone closer to his face and spoke.

"They want to greet you, I'll pass them to you."-And he passed the device to the child in front of him. They crawled up to the long chair beside them to be at a good height and not stretch the strings too much.

A slightly raspy voice, but no less kind and diligent for that, spoke from the other line-"(Y/n), love! How are you?"

"Grand-mami! I'm much better, thank you! Do you know? I'm pretty sure I'll be as good as new for the Solstitium! And I want a dress just like yours for the celebration, because you look so pretty in it! You always embroider the best flowers."-they sang with plenty of enthusiasm and joy.

"So you want a dress this year?"-the voice asked them.

"Yes! Cute dresses are for everyone!"-they stated-"Plus, I plan to dance with ribbons along with the rest! You will see that this year, I will endure all the dance and be Spring's Monark! Also, tell Julian I say hi, please."

"It's good to hear you're happy. Anything else, sugar?"-The sweet voice chuckled a bit with the kid's excitement and hopes.

-After a moment of reflection, they added-"Yes! I want us to eat Frangipane!"

~

"(Y/n)! Here you are!"-A voice naming them drew their attention. Pulling them out of their daydreaming.

They adored that voice and the person it came from. It had been so long since just hearing a voice made them so joyful.

"Kurapika, do you need something?"- they drawled with their soft smile.

"I know this is your recess, but Neon is looking for you with a tantrum."-he alleged with a sigh.

Outside of the fatigue that Neon's childishness sometimes caused him, he was a tad troubled. (Y/n) was spending their rest alone on a bench in the immense gardens of the Mansion Nostrade. He had been looking for them throughout the interior of the house for some time. And when he found them, they resembled so immersed in their dreams he couldn't avoid worrying a little for his lover's wellbeing.

"Are you all right?"-Kurapika inquired.

"Yes, yes! I was just remembering something!"-they assured with a smile and tilting their head. They got up and headed back inside the mansion.

"Kurapika."- they called him after some seconds.

"Yes?"- he questioned, glancing at them.

"Would you wish to accompany me tonight? It's a... special date for me."-inviting him at their house was not unusual, except that desiring to share with him some variety of particular holiday had something very personal and loving on it. 

Kurapika felt special and privileged to receive that offer.-"It would be lovely. I will gladly be with you."-his voice was soft and had a warm smile on his face.

(Y/n)'s face lit up with pure joy and bubbled-"Fantastic! I will do my best to make it pleasant!"- he sensed a hint of nervousness. They probably were unsure if he would like the celebration.

"I'm sure it will be."-he encouraged.

Their shoulders lessened and sheepishly added-"Would you like to stay overnight along with that?"

"I'll willingly stay."- it was a grace for him to be so loved. He was able to see a warmhearted intimate side of someone like (Y/n) and receive so much appreciation and love.

Flight if Destiny: Prologue

(An Ever After High fic, set in an au where the evil queen decides to be a good mom. Cowritten with @offwiththeirbuds )

It was over. Finally. Robin Queen leaned against the back alley wall. Her enemy, Snow White had decided to try and do more than banish her after awakening. She tried to have Robin arrested and tossed in prison. Thankfully Robin hadn't done anything outside the realm of their story, so there was no way to arrest her. But Robin was furious. 

How dare she? Robin only did what was expected and for what? An empty, temporary marriage and a lonely future. 

She could get revenge. Get power and fame on her own and a kingdom to show up that brat Snow White!

Robin sneered, that could work! She could strike Wonderland first, it was disconnected enough from the rest of the world, no one would notice until it was too late. Or maybe she could-

Robin heaved, emptying her stomach contents on the concrete. She had gotten too excited. 

"Crap. Crap. What am I thinking?" Robin hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand while the other gently held her baby bump.

It was a small bump, barely showing, but it was a grounding reminder for Robin. It was so easy to lose herself to the role of Evil Queen and far safer than facing the future after her story. She felt so alone without the story now. All of her friends were just starting their stories while Robin had to start hers immediately out of High school. She was only 27. 

Narrators beyond, she was 27 and expecting! And she had considered world domination? What was she thinking??? 

She hadn't been. In that moment Robin had been scared and alone so she turned to the safety of her role. But… what safety was there in evil? Embracing it would mean she could be truly imprisoned. 

"Funny, how you reminded me I wasn't alone, and you don't even have a heart beat yet." Robin muttered to her belly. She had to be better. Better than Snow who wanted her dead or tortured, better than her mother who left her alone too young. Too focused on the Evil part of the Evil Queen. 

Robin vowed to be better. A Better Mother and Better Person. Robin stamped her foot, eyes narrowing with determination. 

"For you my Baby bird. For you I will face the world. I will be the best Mother for you…" Robin said pulling out a small slip of paper and racing to a nearby pay phone. 

The small paper had a short list of numbers. Friends from school. The top of the list was Nana Breadhouse, she may be the Gingerbread House Witch, and specialized in candy houses, but Nana also had some connections. 

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Nana. Its… its Robin."

"Robin?! Are you ok? I heard Snow's speech. Did she?!"

"She tried to arrest me but it didn't work. Nana I need a house Im… Nana I have a kid on the way. I wanted to- I…" Robin felt tears fall. "I almost became my Mom…"

"Oh SweetPlum. Where are you? Ill come get you. We can talk after." Nana said. Robin couldn't help but smile, Nana was the kindest woman.

"I'm in Bookend outside the Library. Ill wait here." Robin said. Her hand never left her little bump, she had to fight the urge to conquer and the little lump was helping.

"I'll be there faster than you can say Taffy, hang on love." Then Robin waited. 

It only took ten minutes for Nana to arrive, her Bubblegum punk hair made her easy to see in the rainy gloom. Nana's Broomstick landed and the plump woman raced over embracing the soaked Robin tightly. Robin held her friend dearly. 

"Oh Honey Tea, come on. Let's get you home and dry. You can tell me what your plan is after we got some food in you." 

"You're the Fairest Nana." Robin hiccuped. Her tears hadn't stopped the entire time. 

"Tell me that after you're dry and warm. Come on." Nana said, pulling Robin onto her broom. Robin leaned into Nana's back as they flew a comfortable silence filling the night air as they escaped the rain clouds and finally reached Nana's home. 

Nana silently ushered Robin inside. Trapper the huntsman was seated by the fire, rocking Nana's 1 year old Ginger. The gruff man looked concerned as Robin was sat down by the fire. 

Trapper gently placed the sleeping Ginger back in her crib and began to sign as Nana raced around. 

"Are you ok? You look awful." He signed, Robin nodded weakly, shivering in her soaked clothes. 

"Im… shaken. But ok, thank you Trap." Robin said, Trapper gave a soft smile and nodded. Only to sign some rather vicious things about their classmate Snow White. Robin shook her head. "Trap its… im not fighting back. I cant. I have a child on the way. I- I refuse to be my mother. Or worse."

"You don't have to do anything. But I could get Arthur and-" Trapper started signing only for Nana to bustle between the two and give Trapper a glare. 

"No. You are not storming the castle Trapper. If you try You get no Daughter time for a month!" Nana scolded in a whisper. Trapper shook his head but signed in agreement. 

"You both adore Ginger so much. I hope I'm as good to my baby Bird…" Robin muttered. Nana Gently pat Robin's hand. 

"You will be darling. Trapper and I have our system. I'm not denying him his ability to be in his daughter's life. And you did the right thing walking away today." Nana said. "Now I have some clothes you can use, tomorrow we can get your stuff back- Robin? Sweet Plum whats-?"

"She burned my stuff." Robin muttered, tears falling anew as she hugged herself tightly. "Snow… She. She did more than try and arrest me. She destroyed all my things. I just did my part! I just did what they expected of me…"

Nana's eyes lit aflame, fury rolling off her like an oven. 

"That, that, That witch! Disgusting. I knew Snow was Twisted but this? And she calls herself a Royal." Nana turned back to Robin, eyes softening. "We will get you new clothes and goods tomorrow. I have an extra plot of land nearby you can live on. We can design it tomorrow as well."

"Doctors appointments." Trapper signed. "We can come with you too." 

"You guys are too good to me. How can I repay you?" Robin asked sniffling.

"How about you babysit some days for us? We can always use an extra hand with Ginger and it will be good practice." Nana offered. 

"Deal."

The next day was strange. Replacing her missing clothes had been easy. Robin knew she needed maternity clothes and she wanted to move away from her old doom and gloom vibe. She wanted to be comfortable and to distance herself from the role of the Evil Queen. 

Then she saw someone she never expected to see. 

"Robin?" 

"Arthur?!" Robin had turned to see her best friend. "Look at you! Your beard came in!"

Arthur laughed, rubbing his blonde hair.

"Yeah and I finally lost the tit scars too. What are you doing this close to Camalot?" He asked. The two walked down the various aisles grabbing what they needed. 

"Oh well. I finished my story and I wanted a fresh start for me and the Baby Bird." Robin explained, Arthur sputtered.

"You're a Mom?!"

"Not yet. I'm expecting. I'm only about a month along." Robin explained giggling as Arthur started blushing. He loved kids, but never really did well with the idea of pregnancy.

"Oh wow! Uh well congrats!" Arthur said. "Uhm… you live nearby? If you do I'm sure Merlin and Giles wouldn't mind if you dropped by. Giles was really worried when news broke that your story started so early."

"That's sweet. I would love to visit. How are your Boys doing?" Robin asked. 

"Oh well… they are doing well. Milkshake is still a jackass to Giles about our relationship. But well… I'm going to propose soon. " Robin gasped.

"Really?! Oh Arty that's wonderful!" 

"Actually I was going to see if Nana knew where you were. I need your help to make it memorable." Arthur said, Robin smiled.

"Of course! You're my Best Friend Forever After. What were you thinking?" Robin asked. Arthur smiled and the two discussed proposal plans.

The next few months were a flurry of building, Reconnecting with friends and doctors. Robin had no time to stop and consider the ever disapearing urge to conquer the world. Instead it was replaced with eagerness to meet her future daughter. 

Robin got to visit Arthur, Merlin and Giles again. Her life was filling up with friends again and she felt lighter than ever. 

Then the sonogram appointment. As she had set it up her doctor had warned her, they would not allow anyone other than the father in with her. Robin was terrified. 

"Birdy whatchya doing so down?" Merlin practically chirped as he picked her up to go for the Sonogram. Robin sighed sitting beside the mage and watching the countryside roll away. 

"My doc warned me they won't let anyone but the father in with me…" Robin muttered. Merlin clicked their tongue 

"Ain't old Good King in a Nursery Home, senile out of his mind? And-" Merlin paused. The Mage was an empath and didn't need any other powers to know why Robin sank into depression when the old king was mentioned. Merlin nodded silently. 

"Fine. I'm the Dad now." Robin jolted up, turning to Merlin.

"What?! Do you honestly think they'll believe that?" Robin asked. Merlin smirked, tossing his scarf to the side. 

"They don't have too. They aren't getting rid of me. Though I'm calling back up." Merlin cooed, casting a minor sending spell before Robin could stop him. 

"Who'd you call?" Robin asked.

"The rest of the fathers!" Merlin said happily. He didn't say anymore until they arrived at the office and the two enter the waiting room. Robin was stressed, clutching her bulging stomach as Merlin went to check her in. She stood near the door, when-

"They let any old rabble in here don't they?" Robin tensed as the sniveling tones of Snow white met her ears. Robin turned. The new Queen was with her Prince, Fabian Charming and obviously expecting as well. 

"Snow." Robin hissed. 

"Queen. What are you doing here? I told them, not to accept your ilk." Snow sneered. "Or did you break in? I can arrest you for trespassing. Better yet I should have the guards toss you out. Maybe you'll get the mess- AIYYYYYYYYYY!"

Snow shrieked as her dress suddenly burst into Merlin's iconic Pink flames. Merlin sauntered up and slung an arm around Robin. She didn't realize she had been hyperventilating until then. 

Fabian put out his wife and glared at the smirking Merlin. 

"Oops, sorry I still miss fire when I get stressed ya know? And our girl is expecting our little bird, of course Im stressed." Merlin purred.

"Our?" Fabian muttered.

"Yes. Ours. Move Fabian." The Charming swung around to find Giles, Arthur and Trapper in the doorway. Arthur looked slightly mortified and Trapper looked ready for a fight. But it made Robin feel safer. 

"What is the meaning of this?" Snow hissed, shaking off the ashes of the fire. "I know none of you are the father!"

"No we all are. Because we were asked to be." Giles said calmly as Arthur pushed over to Robin and held her close. 

"No you weren't. Merlin decided." Robin muttered to Arthur who snorted. 

"You didn't say no." Arthur retaliated earning a laugh from Robin as Snow tsked.

"What ever. Just Leave, I have an appointment here!" 

"So do we." Merlin said as a nurse came up, nervously fiddling with her clipboard.

"Uhm, Ms. Queen? We are ready for you and uh… your child's fathers?" She seemed to ask if the four men were with her despite knowing the anwser. Snow went slack Jared as Robin left, surrounded by her friends. 

The panic the run in caused vanished when she saw her daughter the first time. She cried so hard, her baby Bird was healthy and growing. And Robin forgot all about Snow White.

Then her new home had been built not 2 miles from Nana's own home. Robin could easily visit and watch Ginger, who was growing so fast. 

Robin helped Arthur propose to his boyfriends. Merlin may have been a powerful mage. But Robin was the trickiest witch alive. She was able to make the moment Magical without Merlin catching on. 

And of course they said yes. The three looked radiant at their wedding. Merlin opting for a ballgown as he preferred and Giles and Arthur for a suit and armor respectively. And Robin was Arthur's Best Witch. 

Then suddenly Robin was giving birth, post ceremony. Nine months had gone by so fast. And before she knew it, Robin was holding her daughter in her Best Witch suit. She was so small and pale with a little silky tuft of black and Purple hair.

Raven Queen entered the world in Summer. Greeted by her mother and her friends. 

Book Seventeen: Skeleton Crew

“Don’t go out there... it’s death to go out there...” 

Coming off the high that was Different Seasons, and the low that was Night Shift, I wasn’t really sure what to expect with Skeleton Crew. I wasn’t super pumped to pick it up, but, it’s not like I have a lot else to do right now... I voluntarily cleaned my windows this week, and am fighting the urge to clean my baseboards. Someone send help. Or a burger and ten-cent martini from Don’s Diner. Either would be acceptable. 

But hey! Skeleton Crew was fun! There were a couple of stories that made me want to throw up in my mouth (Survivor Type, I’m looking at you!); but there were some really, really well done stories as well. 

I know I’ve harped on this before, so feel free to skim right past. But this collection was compiled in 1985, and several of these stories are timeless. You could read them, and assume they were written a few years ago. Their subjects (mass hysteria, school shootings, paranoia) are still important. Personally, I think that’s the mark of an excellent writer: timeless material. Even if Steve does comment that, “...a particularly good disease I have- literary elephantiasis”.

It’s cool, I’m here for it. 

The collection kicks off with The Mist; which is a novella about a deadly mist surrounding a town in western Maine, and a group of people trapped inside a grocery store, and unable to get out. 

Well, they can get out, but there’s a good chance they’re going to be killed by a large tentacled beast, or spider webs sharp enough to amputate limbs. 

Yeah.

Exactly what I want to be reading right now.

There’s a reason I’ve embraced Amazon’s Whole Foods grocery delivery these days... and no, that reason is not because I’m a boujee bitch... it’s because I hate people. 

Speaking of hating people, Steve makes a reference to the Flat-Earth Society. I was shook. I assumed Flat-Earthers were a relatively new phenomenon. But after a little research, I discovered the society started back in 1956. So stupid has been around a long time. If you’re bored during quarantine, I highly recommend the hilarious documentary, Behind the Curve. 

The Jaunt is a quasi-post-apocalyptic novel about the need for people to travel to Mars for clean water. Between 1960 and 2030, Earth poisoned most of its water, and needed to find the precious resource on other planets. Again... too much reality, too close to home. But the end of this little story is terrifying. 

So, then we get to The Wedding, a mobster story set in Illinois. This is the moment I push my glasses up, adjust my cardigan, and speak like the Midwestern expert I most certainly am (not). First of all Steve, there is no Moxie soda to be found in Illinois. It’s strictly an east coast thing. Second, a character wonders, “I don’t know what a member of the U.S. Navy was doing in Illinois...” Steve, Buddy, hi. Soooo, there’s this place, called Great Lakes Naval Base? It’s in Northern Illinois? It’s been there since 1906? It could explain why you see a TON of sailors walking around Illinois in the summer. I have been known to refer to the ones at Six Flags Great America, eating cotton candy as, “sticky seamen...” because mentally I’m a twelve year old boy. 

There’s a particularly good story, aptly titled The Man Who Would Not Shake Hands. It might be the most hilariously relatable (but not really) story in the whole collection. “I have known men whose horror of germs and disease stretched that far and even further... and so may may of you...” Love in the time of Coronavirus, am I right??

Survivor Type. My post-it note simply reads, “Baaaaaarf!” But Steve did consult with an actual doctor on this one, so I’ll at least give him credit for that. I’m not going to spoil this one, I’ll let you go in cold. 

Morning Deliveries (Milkman #1). Steve... I give you credit for a lot of things, and a lot of fears you’ve created. Let’s face it: clown-phobia wasn’t a thing until you made it a thing. Right now, there are few things in life that give me joy. But getting food delivered is one of those joys. It makes my life feel normal, and I like to order a pizza and watch The Masked Singer with my family every Wednesday. Please don’t take that away from me with spooky stories about delivery people. My fragile psyche can’t handle it right now. 

I think of the entire collection, The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet was my favorite. The theme of spreading paranoia is all too real right now. And I’m working my ass off not to buy into it. So, of course a short story about it is exactly what I should be reading! But seriously y’all, it’s good shit. 

This entire collection is such a masterful mix of gross-out horror, and finely-taut psychological horror. And to think, each story started with Steve thinking to himself, “Wouldn’t it be funny if...” This man has jokes for days, kids. 

There were no Wisconsin references (disappointing since one of the stories was set in Illinois). There were two Dark Tower references I caught, both in The Mist, “She had a can of Raid in each hand like some crazy gunslinger in an existential comedy...” and “It appeared to be red, the angry color of a cooked lobster. It had claws. It was making a low grunting sound...” Lobstrosities, yo! 

But there were also several Cujo mentions. Let me tell you... the town of Castle Rock has not forgotten about Joe Camber or his dog. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 14

Total Dark Tower References: 12

Book Grade: B+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Different Seasons: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Christine: D

Next up is The Bachman Books. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to give them each their own post, or lump them together into one. Stay tuned. And stay safe. And distanced. And wash your hands. 

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, 

Rebecca

Sometimes my life is like list

Amy Jeanchaiyaphum May 10 2003

Sometimes my life is like smooth white sand.

Sometimes my life is like a stone smoothed by time and water.

Sometimes my life is like a slow leaky faucet.

Sometimes my life is like a rabbit hiding from a predator.

Sometimes my life is like a comfortable shoe.

Sometimes my life is like and abstraction of another life.

Sometimes my life is like an unwritten film.

Sometimes my life isn't like any other life.

Sometimes my life is like raku pottery glistening colors smelling of oil and smoke.

Sometimes my life is like the aerodynamic iridescence of butterfly wings.

Sometimes my life is like a cocoon.

Sometimes my life is like a Horney baboon.

Sometimes my life is like a roller coaster with no end.

Sometimes my life is like a holiday breakfast grapefruit with sugar and a maraschino cherry on top served cold in a hand made clay bowl.

Sometimes my life is like finding a first Grey hair.

Sometimes my life is like a deep cerulean sea.

Sometimes my life is like thinking you can breathe underwater.

Sometimes my life is like a coconut palm tree.

Sometimes my life is like congee in the morning in a busy alley in Thailand.

Sometimes my life is like a collection of invisible photographs only I can see.

Sometimes my life is like the storytelling cracks in ancient timber.

Sometimes my life is like toads moaning in the rain.

Sometimes my life is like waking up from a nightmare of weeping lepers and a dying mother to the sound of moaning toads.

Sometimes my life is like putting my mother in an oven like a giant chocolate chip cookie in a silky dress.

Sometimes my life is like a pink and blue baby blanket with worn satin edges.

Sometimes my life is like sucking a thumb forever.

Sometimes my life is like an itch wool hat.

Sometimes my life is like an itchy wool sweater made with " LOVE".

Sometimes my life is like my putting on my dad's smelly white motorcycle helmet.

Sometimes my life is like a car driving on water.

Sometimes my life is like an elephant ice-skating.

Sometimes my life is like poodle fur.

Sometimes my life is like a herd of buffalo in South Dakota.

Sometimes my life is like penguins painting in the sun

Sometimes my life is like Floating in space.

Sometimes my life is like a noisy drag race.

Sometimes my life is like Evil Knievel.

Sometimes my Life is like a bonfire in a stone pit.

Sometimes my life is like kitty cat kisses.

Sometimes my life is like the silky seed inside a milkweed pod.

Sometimes my life is like finding a giant agate in a huge dirt pit.

Sometimes I never look at the sky.

Sometimes my life is like seeing the earth from the sky.

Sometimes m Life is like riding in the trunk of a car.

Sometimes my life is like not being picked at all in a roller skating snowball, an own birthday party.

Sometimes my life is like hiding in the curtains and talking about peace in a dodgeball. Game.

Sometimes my life is like being the last one standing in a dodgeball game.

Sometimes my life is like being the last one chosen to be on a team, but not really feeling like taking any part in the team anyway.

Sometimes my life is like a Jackson Pollack painting.

Sometimes my life is like a centerfold ripped in half.

Sometimes my life is like music played by an inexperienced musician.

Sometimes my life is like Perfect music heard in a dream.

Sometimes my life is like an unplayed piano

Sometimes my life is like my mothers Goya guitar.

Sometimes my life is like a cobblestone road.

Sometimes my life is like driving across the Lift Bridge while it's going up.

Sometimes my life is like a circus with too many clowns.

Sometimes my life is like a circus with no clowns.

Sometimes my life is like having a circus in the living room.

Sometimes my life is like a pregnant painted pony.

Sometimes my life is like a prairie sky.

Sometimes m life is like a chandelier growing living grapes flashing with crystal rainbows and light.

Sometimes my life is like an oil lamp.

Sometimes my life is like an unread book.

Sometimes my life is like an owner's manual for a useless appliance.

Sometimes my life is like tripping over nothing.

Sometimes m life is like wearing my grandpa's thick blurry glasses just for fun.

Sometimes my life is like… By A Jeanchaiyaphum Page 3

Sometimes my life is like a hotel.

Sometimes my life is like a ceremony.

Sometimes my life is like a celebration where everyone is included.

Sometimes my life is like a lonely celebration.

Sometimes my life is like a silent moment before a performance.

Sometimes my life is like giving the performance of a like time inspiring everybody and not remembering a thing.

Sometimes my life is like being thirsty on a train between two countries, having a pocket full of money but it isn't the correct currency.

Sometimes m life is like Spray painting on the Berlin wall hoping to leave a mark forever, 6 months before the wall is torn down forever.

Sometimes my life is like a lover waiting.

Sometimes my life is like the end of thirst.

Sometimes my life is like dry blue cheese on dry toast when dehydrated.

Sometimes my life is like a mussel-free from its shell laughing like a maniac and waving goodbye before it jumps down the hole in the train toilet and runs away down the track s of Chur Switzerland.  Hoping to climb the Matterhorn and ski in the Olympics.

Sometimes my life is like finding a severed black braid of a supermodel under a bathroom sink in the home of the man who loved her.

Sometimes my life is like watching a party from under the antique table everyone else is eating at it.

Sometimes my life is like a tablecloth made and dyed in India covered in candle wax wine and curry.

Sometimes my life is like hiding in round rotating clothes rack filled with new clothing at a department store.

Sometimes my life is like turning the page.

Sometimes my life is like coming of age.

Sometimes my life is like sitting next to Jesus in a church pew, having a conversation about love and philosophy, while the rest of the congregation is waiting for you to get saved.

Sometimes my life is like a new creation.

Sometimes my life is like being smoothed by muses.

Sometimes my life is like list By A. Jeanchaiyaphum Page 4

Sometimes my life is like a chained up muse.

Sometimes my life is like Kirchner’s lost hand.

Sometimes my life is like sunburn.

Sometimes my life a vegetarian forced to kill and eat meat.

Sometimes my life is like a vegetarian at a veggie buffet.

Sometimes my life is like sitting on a public bus filled with divine beings.

Sometimes my life is like sliding barefoot on new wet concrete.

Sometimes my life is like the smell of fresh timber in new construction.

Sometimes my life is like a national monument.

Sometimes my life is like the statue of liberty greeting all the new kids.

Sometimes my life is like a national park.

Sometimes my life is like having a surgeon cut your bangs.

Sometimes my life is like a museum.

Sometimes my life is like grading papers with my dad.

Sometimes my life is like having my mom do my homework.

Sometimes my life is like eating stew with long-absent family at grandma's house.

Sometimes my life is like a van with wall to wall carpet.

Sometimes my life is like being a kid with the keys to the candy store.

Sometimes my life is like driving a golf cart with a dying battery while being chased by nasty geese

Sometimes my life is like swimming in the bathtub.

Sometimes my life is like learning to skate on the bumpy pond.

Sometimes my life is like A whale in a china shop.

Sometimes my life is like a recipe

Sometimes m life is like a Rorschach test.

Sometimes my life is like a woolly caterpillar.

Sometimes my life is like fleeing from Pharos.

Sometimes my life is like everybody calling me a witch and wishing they were correct.

Sometimes my life is like release time on the playground

Sometimes my life is like the sound of a giant gong.

Sometimes my life is like an exhibition.

Sometimes my life is like an island in peaceful water.

Sometimes my life is like dragonflies embracing and gliding over the water.

Sometimes my life is like floating on my back in the perfectly warm sea looking up at the perfect sky floating above me.

Sometimes my Fe is like stalking a family of familiar strangers

Sometimes my life is like loving someone deeply and never letting them know.

Sometimes my life is like … 

Sometimes my life is like a fiddler on the roof.

Sometimes my life is like a pancake on the roof.

Sometimes my life is like a portfolio lost in the middle of a freeway.

Sometimes my life is like a magician's kit.

Sometimes my life is like playing with a real doctor's bag.

Sometimes my life is like a slide under a microscope.

Sometimes my life is like an enormous healthy tree.

Sometimes my life is like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon talking to a raven feeling overwhelmed at 30.

Sometimes my life is like detention just for fun.

Sometimes my life is like taking the blame for stealing the book money so the whole class could go home,

Sometimes my life is like living in a magical kingdom.

Sometimes my life is like a glass of tab with a slice of lemon in a glass filled with Ice.

Sometimes my life is like examining how ice forms in the ice cube tray.

Sometimes my life is like watching paint dry.

Sometimes my life is like a house claustrophobic with cigarette smoke.

Sometimes my life is like the smell of red wine and cigars.

Sometimes my life is like playing dress up with friends.

Sometimes m life is like a blessing.

Sometimes my life is like the life of a sheepdog trapped in a human body.

Sometimes my life is like an upside down yoga pose.

Sometimes my life is like an undiscovered treasure.

Sometimes my life is like dipping hands in wax while my nose is dripping.

Sometimes my life is like making gods eyes out of yarn.

Sometimes my life is like building haunted houses with my brother.

Sometimes my life is like quitting a play because the role wasn't big enough.

Sometimes my life is like selling painted rocks and lemonade.

Sometimes my life is like playing forever.

Sometimes my life is like flying to the moon in a lazy boy chair.

Sometimes my life is like singing to deer in the Forrest.

Sometimes my life is like mining for diamonds.

Sometimes my life is like leftover pieces made into a quilt.

Sometimes my life is like pulling the stuffing out of upholstery through a little hole.

Sometimes m life is like playing shipwreck in a library.

Sometimes my life is like coaxing snails out of their shells.

Sometimes my life is like, page 6

Sometimes my life is like an embracing secret admiration.

Sometimes my life is like gearing exactly what I want.

Sometimes my life is like an invention.

Sometimes my life is like a sweat lodge sometimes my life is like a close encounter. Sometimes my life is like a POW wow.

Sometimes my life is like the smell of broiled steak.

Sometimes my life is like a well-furnished trailer.

Sometimes my life is like a hand made bunk bed painted cheese whiz yellow?

Sometimes my life is like making friend with my turds before I have to flush them.

Sometimes my life is like talking to inanimate objects.

Sometimes my life is like the ripped out pages of a journal.

Sometimes my life is like having some on read my journal and publish it and not real y caring.

Sometimes my life is like Et hiding in the mound of stuffed animals.

Sometimes my life is like preparing and waiting for Santa Claus and not being able to starry up all night then waking up to find that he has been there and given more than you ever expected.

Sometimes my life is like finding out who really did that and made that real.

Sometimes my life is like helping out knowing the truth but waking up with exactly the same feeling.

Sometimes my life is like a perfectly produced holiday special celebrations.

Sometimes my life is like eating crab legs and drawn butter for 5 weeks straight.

Sometimes my life is like the Easter bunny showing up and hiding eggs in my Jewish grandparent's house.

Sometimes my life is like a room full of trophies.

Sometimes my life is like pop bottles on the back stairs.

Sometimes my life is like seeing the skeleton paper in my grandmother's closet.

Sometimes my life is like an attic full of everything you could ever need.

Sometimes my life is like healing.

Some times my life is like boo rock.

Some times my life is like believing my dad really could find cookies in my ears.

Sometimes my life is like an albatross. Sometimes my life is like a silent phone call. Sometimes my life is like a sitcom.

Sometimes my life is like the smell of dad's helmet.

Sometimes my life is like going down the rapids in a boat driven by strangers.

Sometimes my life is like…. 

Sometimes my life is like knowing all the secrets and keeping them.

Sometimes my life is like Chocolate ice cream on the back of a bicycle.

Sometimes my life is like riding into Sa tree your first time out.

Sometimes my life is like opening a gift.

Sometimes my life is like jumping a motorcycle over a dirt pit to impress someone, and after succeeding realizing that no one saw you do it at all.

Sometimes my life is like being lazy to wait.

Sometimes my life is like a road trip.

Sometimes my life is like  

Cancer Sucks But You Live

My punctuation sucks because I haven’t evolved thumbs.

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

Sometimes I put things off so long that I feel ashamed and in turn try to bury it even deeper in the pile of things to do. As far as excuses go it’s not the greatest but most fall short of that. A great deal of that lost time is laziness but there is also a part of me that doesn’t want to look back, that doesn’t want to remember what it was like to be where you are at.

    Always obsessed with outward appearance, I cracked a joke when the doctor told me that my PET scan lit up like a Christmas tree on crank. I cried in my sister’s arms when she ran to me across the snow dusted parking lot of the clinic. I smoked a pack of cigarettes on the car ride home, trying to keep my hands busy, to do something other than think about what this all meant. I calmed down before walking in, steeling myself to be as stoic and stone faced for my family as I could. In my head I thought that I couldn’t feel this for the sake of others around me. The moment I walked in the door, I saw the tear streaked faces of my mother and sisters. The dogs milled around their ankles not sure what to make of all their sorrow and their inability to help (or in our beagle’s case, his inability to get fed.) All my bluster, all my hubris fell away when I saw my loved ones, the things I had to lose all in one place. They embraced me one at a time then we came together as a group and I lost it. All motor control lost, my legs felt like jelly. They as a group, as a family supported my weight until I could stand on my own two feet again. The beagle, ever caring, bit me in the ankle for being too far into my mother’s person space.

When I got home from the biopsy, that confirmed the doctor’s suspicion of cool case of type b small cell non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, I took to sleeping on the floor. I told myself it was to keep my bad back comfortable but the truth was it felt good to have something solid underneath me as everything was changing. The days passed and the face in the mirror grew ever more foreign. The bone under my flab carved itself out in my cheeks and jaw. Hollow pockets formed around my eyes that gave me the look of an upstairs basement dwelling gnurdsferatu. The only thing that didn’t change were the patterns on the pitted hardwood of my floor. I’d take off my glasses, lay my head on the cool floor, and follow the whirls in the grain with my weary eyes until they lead out of blurry site. There was a comfort in knowing that just because I couldn’t see where the rich, brown lines ended it didn’t mean they were done travelling.

Either through pity or not being able to read the signs of chemotherapy I’d occasionally get compliments on my physique. Over a beer or two somebody would ask, “You look really good, man. What’s your secret? You been going to the gym or doing heroin?”

Nothing beats the satisfaction of the anti-joke that is responding with an off handed, casual, “I have cancer. It beats the hell out of doing palates.” After you explain the sitch to people a million times explaining it one more time is mundane and boring. They will stumble a second on their words; not sure if you are telling the truth or a joke in poor taste. It’s the ultimate, “Gotcha,” moment. When your diagnosis becomes blasé your spirits soar.

    From a few days after I was diagnosed letters poured in by the boatload. Friends, family, friends of family, people that had passed me once at the mall and paid a compliment to my shoes all wanted me to know that there was hope and that I was not alone. I’d read them and be dumbfounded by the amount of care people could express for a stranger. I was even more dumbfounded by the amount of care the family could express. No matter how hard I tried to blend into the background, to continue my weird, self-isolation from my family they kept firing salvo after salvo of cards and gifts. They’d send me gum, stickers that said, “Fuck Cancer,” (Because as we know cancer is terrified of strong language.), and all manner of sweet, sweet candy treats. There was no way for me to stay off the radar of the people that loved me.  

    I held it together through my first few rounds of chemo. It really didn’t bother me until my hair fell out. Until my fourth round I was feeling like a million bucks. I was getting skinny, I lost a few stray hairs, and I had an actual license to smoke pot. What 24-year-old wouldn’t love that? I was driving to the store to grab a drink and I ran my hand through my hair and it came back in tufts between my fingers. Pulling off the road into an abandoned store’s parking lot I started neurotically, compulsively picking away at my scalp and beard. Handfuls of the stuff coated the front seat of my 03’ Accord but still I couldn’t stop. I watched in horror as my reflection warped in the rearview mirror. I just couldn’t stop. After a half hour of what scholars refer to as, “Going bananas real manic like,” I regained my composure. I drove myself over to a friend’s house and had her shear my head with the clippers her dad used to shave his back. From that day on I was bald. It wasn’t so bad when I got used to it. Every now and then I would get a weird phantom limb sensation, as though I still had a rugged mane of hair, when the breeze blew on my naked scalp.

    I was in and out of the hospital all the time. My guts exploded one time when a tumor responded to the chemo and disappeared. It was what we wanted with the tumor, not so much what we wanted for my intestines. They cut out ten feet of my goop and stitched me back up. I was locked up in the cancer klink for two weeks after that. They had me on a tube and all of my food and fluids came from an IV, except when family or friends were around. They would sneak me a small cup of ice cubes, a rare sip of water, or even, once, a whole bottle of tangerine Bai over a whole night. Even when I was being a real grumpy cancer boy my friends, family, and everybody else would stick it out just to let me know I wasn’t alone. In that exact same stay, a friend of mine actually saved my life because he was able to understand my garbled speech through my nose/mouth tubes. I’d been trying to explain to my nurse that the bile vacuum they had in my guts was pumping my green-black bile back into me but she may have been one of god’s special people. When my friend confirmed that my gunk was being pumped back into me, he snagged somebody. Without that kind of support, I’d have either been dead or in the hooskow weeks longer. Not every situation is bubbling gut ooze but when it is remember to trust those people around you enough to say, “Hey, my bubbling gut ooze vacuum feels like its acting weird. Can you go look at the container the ooze is collecting in and tell me what it’s doing?”

    You’d think that with all this gut busting and chemo I’d be taking it easy. Wrong. I’m a big idiot so instead of resting I kept smoking, went to the bars regularly, and tried my hand at in the DIY rock n’ roll venue game. My nights before chemo were full of putting anything and everything I could inflict on my body. Jumping through tables, mosh pits, and drinking beer bongs to Jean Claude Van Dame flicks were everyday occurrences. I’d been dumb before cancer. With the ability to live a bohemian, YOLO life I did just that. I’d burn the candle at both ends because I didn’t know if there was going to be a tomorrow. Tomorrow always came; usually with a Jimmy Buffet grade hangover. Dumb. I was dumb. I did seven rounds of chemo then stem cell and not once did I let off the gas petal of stupidity.

    But you know what?

    I survived. Against all odds, against odds that I was actively trying to stack against myself, I survived. Was it a miracle sent down from the heavens? Maybe. Was it aliens? I’d like to think so. Was it the constant support of my friends and loved ones coupled with cutting edge, state of the art technology in the hands of the most competent doctors and nurses in the industry even though I was hellbent on dying young and beautiful because I’m an idiot? That’s a run-on sentence. It’s also a pretty good idea of what kept me alive, what will keep you alive. I was full to the brim with cancer while dancing on the brink of self-immolation. If I did everything in my power to give myself the odds of a three-legged horse at the Kentucky Derby what do you think yours are? I bet you take care of yourself at least slightly better. I’d like to think that if I beat cancer there is an infinite amount of hope for you, who is not an idiot with a death wish, to go into remission.

    There will be moments in the dead of night where you doubt your own survival. There will be bright days that you will sleep away. There will be moments where you lay on the floor in the fetal position bathed in hot tears and cold sweat. You will think of what a life without this hell would be like. You will feel like the cards are stacked against you. The, “What if’s,” will mix a cocktail of fatal fear in your skull eating away at your resolve. You will walk into your kitchen and forget for half an hour that you came in there for soup. You will throw that soup up and lay hunched and miserable over the porcelain for an hour. You will wonder who will carry your name? Who will see your babies walk across the stage at graduation?

The answer is you. This may be the worst moment of your life but it will not be the one that defines you. What defines you will be all that comes after this nightmare. With your two hands you will make great works. Gardens resplendent in their rainbow will call your master. You will see the white sands of far off beaches, will feel the artic chill of the frozen wastelands allegedly known as, “Canadia” far to the North. Mortal peril will be replaced with picking up the kids from karate and a gallon of milk. You will watch your children grow and cover this earth like that brand of paint I can’t mention for copyright reasons. As you watch them cross that stage or walk down the aisle you will have at your sides the same faces that did their best to make you smile from your bedside during your weakest moment. Trust in them as you would have them trust in you. They will be your guide when you cannot find yourself, we will be your guide.

‘ 𝒜 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒.

     There was no denying in this moment, she was entirely much too nervous for the results of the sickness she’s been feeling. For weeks she’s been experiencing something entirely too foreign to her, since she usually made sure her health is in check based off the diet she had & her usual routine of working out, it was rare for her to experience anything like feeling sick. Just short of a few days ago did she wake from her slumber with a rather rude awakening, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, head hazy & foggy. . she was even pale the second she looked into the mirror when she made entry into her bathroom. It was then, when she would look at her own reflection, she’d briskly, yet shakily make way to the toilet, the bilious feeling dwelling inside from before displaying why she had felt this way. It was quite scary, to say the least. It was rare when she would find herself vomiting in a toilet. Hence the reason she took it upon herself to schedule this doctor appointment for today. She figured that 1) maybe it was the food she had been eating recently or 2) she’s pregnant. Being a nurse, she was fully aware of all the symptoms---and she had it all.

    A nervous twiddle of the thumbs would be ensued when she began waiting patiently for the doctor to come in, her chest developing a certain tightness of anticipation---not wanting to wait another second to hear the cause of this sickness. It was then while she was stuck in this train of thought, would she hear footsteps faintly being heard down the hallway---the doctor eventually making way into her room, finally.                            

  “So, doctor.... what’s wrong with me? Whats going on? Why is this happening?” She’d inquire with utmost urgency, her heart-race accelerating to no end until......

                      “----Congratulations, miss Uchiha, you’re going to be a mother !!!” 

   Sentiments of excitement would begin to course through Sakura’s being, the pearly whites exposed behind that beaming smile of hers coming to show this. “A mother, huh?” There was a hint of shock that dwelled within her words, eyes widened and mouth gaped open. But putting this aside, it didn’t take long before tears began forming at the ducts---not tears in a negative sense, but tears of happiness & pure content. The sheer prospect of her actually being a mother and bearing a child making her all the more emotional. “I can’t believe this. Me.... a mother. Sakura..... a mother!!!” My my, how happy she felt. She almost felt like a little girl in a candy store ! This was certainly something of the unexpected, but even so, she now felt these feelings of tenderness, care, and unyielding love to simply give this little life growing inside her everything and anything she can offer. She wanted nothing more than to have her own little mini-me by her side. Cuddling her, loving her, just about anything and everything.        

                        “Thank you, doctor, thank you!! Thank you so much.”

                     - 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔭𝔰𝔢 (𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯) -

    Finally, her morning sickness had subsided. It took quite an arduous effort having to deal with the constant puking, hot flashes, and especially her cravings---but Sakura is strong at both mind & heart, nothing, not even this could ever phase her. If anything, for her, it was worth the struggle. A palm would lovingly place along the growing bump of her stomach, a light giggle of delight being heard and a smile gracing weary features. She’d begin to hum a lullaby, softly. She’s been doing her research on different tunes for her baby to hear. Essentially in the mother’s womb, a fetus is able to decipher the sounds of their mother. Whether it was her voice, or even soothing music playing, the baby was able to identify these things---sure enough to bring a healthy, bouncy baby to come through during the end of pregnancy. Rockabye baby was overrated, so instead. . she created a lullaby of her own. Slowly rocking back and forth in her rocking chair,  hand still rubbing at the bump, she’d begin to hum a lithe tune.

“Lullaby and goodnight, with roses bedight, with lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed. Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed…----”  

    “I love you. I promise to give you everything and make you into the little, happy baby you deserve to be. I love you so much. Even if you may not be able to hear me right now, I know through our connection you are able to. Remember these words for tonight. . and rest peacefully, my sweet baby. . just a few more months and you will finally be in my arms.” 

                     - 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔭𝔰𝔢 (𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯) -

    From what it seemed, her baby enjoyed the indulgence of kiwi and other fruits just like Sakura did! Every time she would prop different fruits in her mouth, the baby seemed to have a liking for this due to the continuous kicking and movements, that sudden ‘punch’ in her gut. It was truly a delightful feeling, the fact that her baby seemed to grow minute by minute---day by day, it only felt like it was days ago when her pregnancy was confirmed. Time flew by in more ways the new mother could ever expect. And she loved every single second of this. She’d begin her way into the kitchen, beginning to prepare an organic, kiwi, apple, and banana fruit salad---normally she would add raspberry vinaigrette, but this actually upset her stomach to no end since baring a child. She even refused to eat anything regarding sweets, such as chocolate, cookies, or even her favorite, strawberry shortcake -- she wanted her baby healthy, and a normal weight till the day she is born. Sakura wanted absolutely nothing but the best for this precious, little life growing inside her.

    “Usually I would pig out on sweets, but I know this isn’t healthy for you. Soon, you’re going to be strong just like Mama. I hope you come out with pink hair, or even black hair is nice. I know either way, you’re going to be beautiful.” She’d speak gently to the baby inside her stomach, faint, subtle traces of scarlet appearing along her cheekbones --- only two more months away until she can finally have this little baby in her embrace.

                                ℌ𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔰 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫!

    It took much careful and challenging precision to ensure her baby’s health. But here she was, finally in the mother’s arms, and out to experience the real world. She wanted the gender to be a surprise to her once birth happened, and she was entirely pleased with the outcome. A beautiful set of dainty, onyx tresses adorning a baby girl’s head & cooing adorably. She was so familiar with Sakura that every time she stared at her baby’s adorable face, her tiny hand would reach out, grabbing at the long locks which seemed to fall along her face with such grace--playing with the strands. “You’re so beautiful..--” She’d comment, a fingertip softly encircling the smooth mound of her new baby’s cheek--taking in her dainty features. 

   “What do you think we should name her?” Her husband would ask. Naming the baby wasn’t something she thought about much prior to her giving birth. She did not want the name being too common, if anything she wanted the name to be unique and unlike any others.

   Then suddenly, an idea instantly popped in her head. ‘Perfect.’ She would think to herself. A rather strange name to those who might come across it, but the mother absolutely loved this one, and knew it was here to stay. “How about we name her.. Sarada. Sarada Uchiha. What do you think, Sasuke?” Her voice was gentle, laced with a hint of genuine authenticity -- a name that truly was deemed authentic, in her eyes. 

 “Sarada...” The man mused, grace of a smile appearing across his content expression and head nodding. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “Sarada, Sakura, and Sasuke----all one big, happy family that begins with the same letter, it’s befitting and beautiful.” And there it was, right after her loving speech---tears of happiness began to fall gracefully down her face, her baby in one arm and her hand entwined with her husband’s. . she is truly in a state of sheer bliss. “Thank you, for giving me this beautiful gift of life. I will devote my life to her, if it means her being happy, Sasuke. And Sarada, I will give up just about anything for you--your papa and I, we both love you so much.” 

               “We just both love you so much! Never forget that, ever.”        

Review: Aaron Lee Tasjan Finally Brings All His Influences Into Perfect Harmony on 'Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan!'

Americana has become such a broad genre that it's become a running joke among its fans, going so far that 2019 Americana Music Award host The Milk Carton Kids performed a song called “What Even Is Americana Anyway?” So in a genre that is basically defined by its complete unwillingness to be defined, it takes a special artist to stand out. Aaron Lee Tasjan is one of those artists and, on his new album Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan! (spoken, one presumes, in the voice of Jan Brady), he once again proves that he's not only one of Americana's most unique artists, but consistently one of its best.

The thing that sets Tasjan apart from other Americana artists is that he emerged not from the usual country, soul, Southern rock, or punk scenes, but from glam rock. A founding member of androgynous New York rockers (and Lady Gaga favorites) Semi-Precious Weapons, Tasjan did a year on guitar with glam rock pioneers New York Dolls before heading to Nashville to make his way as a singer-songwriter, while retaining all of the self-deprecation, showmanship, and clothing (he's the only man in Nashville to have a bigger share in the sequin trade than Porter Waggoner) of his past.

All of these things and more are present on Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan! and make it one of the most unique roots music albums in years. Tasjan's past albums have been good, but never completely sure of their identity. Fortunately for all of us, those days are past and he has embraced all his musical journey. The result is a set of songs that bounce between psychedelia, glam hooks, ELO-style pomp, and folk. It's as chaotic as it sounds but, rather than being a chaotic mess, it serves as a glimpse into the multi-faceted mind of the songwriter.

The album's highlight is “Computer of Love.” An uptempo ditty with a whistled intro and catchy piano hook, the candy floss production only serves to accentuate Tasjan's commentary on the fake world of social media, falling in love with a beautiful avatar but lamenting “I'll never know who you really are.” But he also gets some humorous digs in at the semi-yearly pronouncements by hipster-cool rags that the “age of the guitar is dead.” The fact that these articles keep being produced is a testament to just how much truth there is on them. With a smirk that can be heard through the speakers, Tasjan croons “May the guitar rest in peace... before it dies once more.”

On “Up All Night”, Tasjan does a pretty darned good Tom Petty drawl, or more accurately The Traveling Wilburys (that Jeff Lynne-style vocal layering cinching the deal). It's another of Tasjan's strongest lyrical moments, with him owning up to his vices (including one involving having anxiety about the others). Wrapped up in the costume of a party anthem (Staying up all night! It could be good, it could be bad for you), Tasjan struggles with his sexuality, and his inability to make either work (“broke up with my boyfriend to go out with my girlfriend, but love is like that”), concerns about what life on the road, and not a few pharmaceuticals, has done to his health (“went to my doctor. She said you might have a problem”), and his inability to save money (“saved up all my money... and blew all of my money”). It takes real talent to write a raw autobiographical song and turn it into a sing-along ditty, but I'll be damned if Tasjan didn't do just that.

Tasjan shows off his best Beatles riffs on album bookend songs “Sunday Women” and “Got What I Wanted.” The songs will draw comparisons to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band because every psychedelic Britpop infused album does, but both songs sound to me much more like their follow up, Magical Mystery Tour, which is fine by me as I hold the highly unpopular opinion that the latter is, top to bottom, the better album.

If I went on about all of the album's 11 songs (and I could), this would take longer to read than the album's 37 minute run time, but other highlights include a poke at vapid radio hits (“Cartoon Music”), genre fluidity (“Feminine Walk”), and a desperation for human contact of any kind (“Dada Bois”, in which he croons “I'll love anyone who tells me to.”)

I run through so many pre-release albums that most go into a file folder and come out again when I'm trying to rank my year-end list. Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan! is staying in my regular rotation. After a week of pretty constant listening (which I do for most review albums), I'm not ready to put it away for a while (which is very unusual no matter how good the album was).

Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan releases on February 5 and if you haven't figured out I'm calling it a must by at this point, I'm not sure telling you again would help.

Soulmates 07

Kaya Pronounced: ky-YAAH

Genre: fanfiction, angst, fluff, romance, fate

Summary: Kaya is a knockout, the most beautiful girl in town. She’s the girl in every man’s dreams and the envy if every woman she encounters. With her high taste for fashion, carefree living and outgoing personality one would think she has it all but she’d give up all of that in a second. You see, she’s terminally ill and the doctors say she only has 3 months left to live. She’s never told anyone about her sickness, not even her best friend; in fear of too many broken hearts in the end. She’s never had a serious relationship with a guy because ultimately, they’ll both be broken. That’s when he walked into her life and knocked down all the walls she’d built, ruined all her plans and swept her off her feet.

Will she walk away and avoid breaking his heart or will she finally let herself love and be loved? 

A/N: In this chapter I’m going to use a song for one of the scenes to help set the mood and I’ll tell you when to start playing it👌🏽 Make sure you’re ready with your earbuds and have the song ready as well.                                             The Beautiful Ones by Prince

A little over a week went by and before they knew it, Jackson and Kaya had fallen deeply in love.

They were head over heels for each other and couldn’t even go one day without spending time together.

Everyday they fell deeper and harder.

Kaya’s work schedule became so irregular because of the spontaneous dates that Jackson planned throughout the day. She almost didn’t have time to properly run her coffee shop.

But she didn’t mind, not one bit,  because every minute spent with Jackson was everything she could ever dream of.

They went to amusement parks, screaming on the rides and holding each other through the haunted houses.

They enjoyed delicious cotton candy and playing all the games to win as many prizes as possible.

Jackson would take her shopping and buy her everything she so much as glanced at, no matter how many times she said she didn’t need it.

"Seriously Jackson, I don’t need this dress!" She assured

"Kaya!" He whined.                                                                                               "But it would look so beautiful on you!" He exclaimed, holding it up. Kaya was about to protest but Jackson quickly bolted to the counter to pay for the pretty floral sundress.                              

He was stubborn but in the best way possible!

Of course they went on the most romantic dinner dates with Jackson dressing up in a nice sleek suit and Kaya rocking her lacy, black, skin tight dress.

But of all the places they went, their most favorite was the beach! Something about the tropical sea air, a warm sun glowing in the sky and cuddled up on a blanket, beat all the other events by far.

On one particular day, as Kaya was cleaning up her kitchen the sound of the doorbell rang out through the house. A smile spread across her face, she knew exactly who was at the door.

Quickly drying off her hands, she made her way to the door and opened it up.

As soon as she saw Jackson, she jumped into his arms and he embraced her with a warm smile and a tight hug.

"Hey baby." He smiled into her soft hair, rocking her back and forth.

As Kaya pulled away after a moment, Jackson reached out and gently brushed the hair out of her face. "Can I come in?" He asked, still smiling.

"Yeah of course!" She exclaimed, taking his hand and pulling him inside the cool house.

Once inside, Jackson made his way into the kitchen and fixed himself a cold glass of icy water.

"What do you wanna’ do today?" Kaya asked, giving Jackson a back hug.

"As long as I’m with you baby, I don’t care." He said, rubbing her hands that were placed on his stomach.

"How about the beach?" Kaya suggested. "It would be really romantic to go at night!" She exclaimed.

"That does sound romantic, I’m down!" Jackson exclaimed, taking a sip of water.

"I can’t wait!" Kaya grinned, squeezing Jackson in excitement.

Jackson smiled at her excitement and turned around to face her. He placed his hands on the sides of her face and gazed into her eyes for a moment.

"You’re just too cute for your own good, you know that?" He said, playfully.

Kaya grinned shyly, her cheeks turning pink.

Jackson noticed her cheeks and chuckled to himself, he couldn’t get over how cute she was right now.

"I’m about to make those cheeks even pinker." He smirked

Kaya’s heart began to race as Jackson slowly leaned in, she could feel his steady breath lightly on her face as he got dangerously close.

She gripped the sides of his shirt as Jackson tilted her head towards him. Her eyes fluttering closed as his soft lips met hers.

He kissed her gently and slowly, savoring the moment.                                       Kaya pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and ran her hand through his thick hair.

It was moments like these where time seemed to stop, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

It was the best feeling.

They pulled away for a second, their faces only inches apart, breathing a little heavier than before.

"I love you." Jackson whispered, kissing her forehead.

Kaya closed her eyes and smiled, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.       "I love you too.” She said, her voice suddenly shaky.

"Hey, baby don’t cry." He said softly, wiping her fallen tears.

"I’m sorry" She sniffled "It’s just... I don’t know..." She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Jackson wrapped her into his arms and rubbed her back, letting her cry silently into his chest.

He knew why she was crying, she didn’t have to explain anything.

"I’ll always love you Kaya, always."                                                                   Jackson assured her. He pulled back a little and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. "It’s ok, I’m right here."   

She looked up at him, eyes glassy and full of sadness.

Jackson hated that look, he hated it like crazy but he felt so helpless. He couldn’t cure her, he couldn’t take this evil cancer away from her and it killed him.

He wanted to be strong for her no matter how hard things got, no matter how much it hurt. He wanted to give her strength and comfort, even though this was the hardest thing he’d ever dealt with.

But most of all...he wanted to love her. He wanted to love her with everything he has and even if that meant he couldn’t love her for long, he was willing to put everything on the line and love her til’ the end.

No matter how much his heart would ache.

No matter how painful it would be in  the end

It was bitter sweet, their love.

For the rest of the day, Jackson stayed at Kaya’s house. They cuddled up on her soft, white couch and fell asleep.

Kaya was getting weaker everyday and Jackson noticed that she slept a lot more lately. He watched her take those cancer pills everyday and how her headaches were becoming more severe.

The constant heaviness in his chest weighed down on him whenever he thought about Kaya not being there one day.                                          

He tried hard not to think about it...

But as they were sleeping on the couch, Jackson had a dream.

In the dream, everyone was in black, some crying and others trying to give comfort. Jackson’s vision was cloudy but he could make out a small room in the distance. He watched as people came and left the room, paying their respects and leaving flowers. "Is this a funeral?" He thought to himself.                           As he made his way over, he could make out what looked like a coffin.             His breathing quickened and his chest felt unbelievably tight. He knew who was there and he didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to believe but his legs wouldn’t stop.

The coffin was open and he was almost there. "No no no no..." he tried to stop but he couldn’t control his feet, tears blurred his vision but he knew who was in that coffin.

He reached the coffin.

Jackson yelled "NO!" And bolted up. Sweat dripping from his forehead and salty tears stained his cheeks.

Kaya woke up, her face immediately flooding with concern as she saw Jackson’s state.

Just as she was about to say something, he grabbed her and held onto her for dear life.

"Jackson, what happened? Are you ok?" She asked, stroking his head. He was trembling in her arms.

"Yeah...I’m ok." He took in a shaky breath, trying to manage a smile as Kaya looked at him. She wasn’t convinced.

"It was just a nightmare..." He said, not wanting to go into any detail.

"Must’ve been some nightmare!" She exclaimed. "You were crying." She said, looking at his cheeks

Jackson wiped his forehead and cheeks, composing himself.                               "I’m ok, really!" He said, trying to reassure her.

"If you say so." She smiled softly, brushing the hair out of his face.

"Hey, let’s go to the beach now!" He said, pushing all those thoughts away.

"Yeah!" Kaya grinned. "Let me go put on a swim suit. Did you bring one?" Kaya asked, standing up.

"Yeah it’s in my car, I’ll go get it." He said, grabbing his keys as Kaya went into her room to pick out a swim suit.

After they got ready, the sun was already beginning to set. So they grabbed a blanket, some snacks, a portable stereo and headed out the French doors to the beach.

Kaya literally lived on the beach, it was her backyard and most favorite place to be. Since it was considered private property, this section of the beach hardly ever had any people around. Mostly just the ones who lived on her street.

Anyway, they picked a spot, spread out their beach blanket and placed their stuff down before racing into the water.

The red-orange sun cast a magestic glow on the ocean waves, making the water sparkle with gold. Kaya laughed as Jackson chased behind her, he tried to grab her but she ducked under the water before he could reach her.

Jackson soon joined her underwater and stole a kiss from her lips.

They came up laughing but quickly had to go back under to avoid a big wave. When they dove under, Jackson took her hand and they swam around together, admiring the little fish and sea life.

Kaya spotted a pretty shell and grabbed it right before Jackson pulled her up to the surface.

"Lemme’ see." He said, shaking his hair.

Kaya held out the shell and smiled.

"Ooo pretty!" Jackson exclaimed. "Want to put it in my pocket?" He asked, holding his hand out.

"Yeah!" She handed him the shell and he put it in the pocket of his swim trunks. They had zippers so the shell wouldn’t get lost.

"Watch out!" Kaya exclaimed, pointing to a huge wave.

Jackson’s eyes widened as Kaya pulled him under just before the massive wave crashed.

Jackson lost his grasp on Kaya and tumbled around a bit. Thankfully he didn’t go too far though.

"That was close!” Kaya exclaimed as they came up for air.

"Haha yeah." Jackson laughed, still a little shaken up. "You wanna’ go in now?" He asked brushing his hair back.

"Race ya!" Kaya giggled, swimming away.

Jackson grinned, following her back to shore. The waves pushed them along and Jackson was coming up close behind Kaya.

He let her win but only by a few seconds.

"That was fun!" Kaya smiled, grabbing her towel and drying off.

"Yeah!" Jackson dried himself as well, rubbing his hair and then his chest.

By now the sun was almost down, dusk setting in.

"What snacks did you bring?" She asked, combing her wet hair. "Swimming makes me hungry!" She exclaimed.

"Watermelon slices, chex mix, cookies and grapes." He said, popping a few green grapes in his mouth.

Kaya opened her mouth and let Jackson feed her a few grapes.

"Yum!" She grinned.

"Here, sit down babe!" Jackson said, patting the place next to him and looking up at Kaya.

She sat down right next to Jackson, the sides of their bodies pressed together.

They silently watched as the sun disappeared into the ocean. The little stars began to appear in the sky after a while and Kaya admired them.

Jackson found himself admiring Kaya more than the scenery, he smiled to himself and rested his chin in his hands.

After a minute Kaya looked at him.                                                                     "What?" She smiled, taking a bite of a watermelon cube.

Still smiling, Jackson pressed play on the stereo (play the song!!!)

"Come here." He took Kaya’s hands and they stood up.

Kaya looked at him, wondering what he was going to do.

He pulled her to him and smiled.

Still not saying a word, he guided her into a dancing position with one hand around her waist and the other, holding her hand.

They held each other close, hearts racing and feeling every single electrifying touch.

Kaya placed her feet on top of his and they began to slow dance to the music.

Their bodies pressed together and sharing an intimate yet comforting warmth as a cool breeze flowed from the sea.

Her neck tingled as she felt his every breath.

His hands sparked, feeling her smooth skin under his fingers.

Kaya closed her eyes and rested her head in the crook of Jackson’s neck.

They slowly stepped in circles, the dark night surrounding them like a blanket.

Jackson hummed softly with the melody, his deep voice rumbling underneath her chest.

He kissed her shoulder and stayed there for a moment, before resting his chin there and pulling her closer.

As if she wasn’t close enough already.

Kaya laced her fingers with Jackson’s and let him guide her through the music.

It was well after midnight before they decided to crash on the blanket and sleep on the beach.

With legs and arms all intertwined they fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

The next morning...

Kaya woke up to a bright morning and Jackson’s sweet kisses.

She squinted her eyes and smiled at a happy Jackson hovering over her.

"How was your sleep?" He asked, stroking her arm.

"Very good!" She giggled, pulling him onto her.

Holding him for a minute she asked "Hey what time is it?"

"About nine o’clock." He responded, kissing her cheek.

"I don’t wanna’ get up yet..."Kaya pouted.

"We have a whole day ahead of us, let’s hurry up and eat some breakfast!!" Jackson exclaimed, sitting up.

"Ughhh." Kaya rubbed her eyes.

"I’ll make you some food, c’mon!" He pulled her up.

"Ok, ok you win!" She sighed, secretly happy that he offered to make her breakfast.

They quickly packed up their stuff and headed inside.

As Jackson settled in the kitchen, Kaya took a shower and had her makeup on by the time he called her in for breakfast.

"Here you go beautiful!" Jackson gave her a peck on the lips before he set down a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her.

"Wow, this looks amazing!" She exclaimed, surprised at how Jackson could actually cook.

He smiled proudly and sat in front of her, taking a bite of his own pancakes.

"How is it?" He asked, as Kaya ate her second forkfull.

"Awesome!" She exclaimed.

"Thanks" He gleamed.

After breakfast Jackson went back to his house to freshen up, taking a shower and changing his clothes. Then he made a reservation for dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant at 6:00pm.

After making the reservation he called Kaya, saying that he would pick her up at 5:45 for a dinner date.

Kaya was so excited, picking out the perfect red V-neck, long dress with a sexy slit on the side.

It hugged her body in all the right places and her sparkling silver accessories really set off the look.

Just as she slipped on her silver heels and put the finishing touches on her makeup, Jackson knocked on the door.

With her heart pounding in excitement, she opened the door to find Jackson standing there with a bouquet of red, pink and orange roses.

He looked gorgeous in his black suit and perfectly styled hair. Not to mention his cologne smelled amazing!

"Wow, you look stunning!" Jackson exclaimed, his eyes wandering all over.

Kaya laughed "So do you!!"

"Here" He handed her the flowers, blushing slightly.

"Thank you Jackson." She smiled. "I’ll go put these inside real quick!"

"Ok!" Jackson waited a moment and Kaya was back in the blink of an eye.

"You ready?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Kaya nodded and let Jackson lead her to his car.

He held open the door for her to get in and then sat down in the drivers seat.

As he drove to the restaurant, he held Kaya’s hand the whole time in the car, humming along to the radio.

Kaya found herself admiring his profile. His sharp jawline, the way his nose sloped so perfectly. His high cheek bones and totally kissable neck.

Jackson saw her staring out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "Take a picture, it’ll last longer."

Kaya’s face turned red and she quickly turned her head.

Jackson chuckled "I’m kidding Kaya! You can look at me all you want, I don’t mind." He kissed her hand and gave her a wink before turning back to the road.

Kaya rolled her eyes, facing the front.

"You think I’m sexy huh?" Jackson smirked, rubbing his chin.

Kaya sighed. "Yes, yes Jackson you’re really sexy now can you pay attention to the road?!" She exclaimed.

"Alright alright!" He laughed. "We’re here."

They pulled into the parking lot and got out, Jackson opening all the doors for her.

The dinner was awesome!

The food, the music, the atmosphere...EVERYTHING!!

Kaya couldn’t ask for a better night.

Jackson pulled into her driveway and let the car idle.

"This was really nice!" Kaya locked her fingers with Jackson’s.

"I’m so glad you had a good time." He smiled.

Kaya smiled and quickly pulled him into a kiss.

He was surprised at first but then let himself melt into her soft lips.

Caressing her neck with his warm hand he let her set the pace.

Just as things were getting pretty heated, Kaya’s phone rang loudly causing them to jump back.

They looked at each other and laughed before Kaya picked up her phone.

"Hello?...oh haha it’s ok."

Kaya hung up. "Wrong number." She explained, looking at Jackson.

"Oh." He nodded

"I better get going babe, it’s getting late." She said, grabbing her purse.

"Oh...ok." Jackson said, trying to hide his disappointment.

She got out of the car and held the door open.

"See ya!" She smiled, before shutting the car door.

Jackson grinned and waved to her.

He waited, making sure she got in safely and pulled out of the driveway.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her as he drove home and found it hard to fall asleep that night.

"Ah what should I do?" He sighed to himself. "I really can’t go one minute without seeing her."

Time was slipping, if only he knew...

how long they really had.

Pen lies on her back, watching the liquid sky, heavy with crystalline stars and the inky blackness of night, shimmer and shiver above her. On this particular visit, she found a ridge, a strange sort of hill jutting sharply from the amber plains, and though it seemed to crane hundreds of feet into the cosmos, she reached the top after only a minute, or perhaps, even less. Rajya was waiting at the top, standing still as a statue, looking down over her domain. Empty and oppressively silent, yet the charr does not seem to be bothered. As if she doesn't even realize what's missing. Pen remembers what it felt like when Rajya was longing, for life, for freedom, for the sun—that is gone now. By bringing back the part of her soul that was missing, it seems that the charr has become less alive. More resigned. More of a ghost than a restless spirit.

“You think she will like the tale about the disgraced son?” Pen asks, stretching blue fingers into the stars, and stirring them, swirling them into a gale of icy dust. Rajya's ear twitches as she nods.

“Yes. Marea will like it very much. Adventure and dubious heroes were always her favorites.”

“Dubious heroes. Like Raigar and his crew.”

“I never met Raigar. But from what little Marea shared with me, I would not call him a hero. Not an evil man, but not someone who was placed on the earth to do good, either.”

“So, the son is a bit better than the people I know. Perhaps one of the Accord. They have a wild collection of personalities,” Pen chimes with a smile. She allows images of the Astralarium to trickle through her minds eye, sharing them once more with Rajya. The charr had not been present for the entire adventure—she missed the friendly librarians who let her take a book with her, and the journey back to the camp.

“They do. I enjoyed the Accord, in the brief time I spent on their grounds.”

Pen closes her eyes. She sees impossibly tall golden walls rise up around her on all sides, overflowing with ivy vines, the rushing of water in the distance mixing with the nearby chatter of two sylvari. White noise like candy, so delicate and pretty she could pluck it between her fingers and shape it into a bead, and that bead would fall into the passing stream, bobbing along through lush green valleys teeming with bio-luminescent flowers, until finally, hurling off the ridge of a water fall and connecting with the rocks below, the memory shatters, and she opens her eyes, sighing softly.  

“Beautiful. The old headquarters. I was there a few times, myself. But it seems you saw a good deal more than me, Rajya. You, you felt more than me, if that makes sense.”

“It does. I had a knack for feeling things,” Rajya grumbles, pulling her cloak of coarse wool tighter over her shoulders. “Many said it was my greatest failing as a soldier.”

“Really? I thought the pacifism would be far worse.”

“Believe it or not, the feelings came first, and many, many years later, I defected from the legions,” Rajya says slowly, as if speaking to a newborn cub. Pen bites her lip in embarrassment, clearing her throat.

“Right, that does make sense! Well, I have said my stupid thing for the evening. You cannot be surprised at this point. Why don't we change the subject—Rajya, what do you know about revenants?”

“Next to nothing.” The charr's voice has grown cold all of a sudden. The air around Pen's head feels thicker, heavier. She sits up, reaching for a white furred shoulder.

“Wait, Rajya Sleekfur, do not leave me. I have more I wish to ask you! You were well learned in your time, and even if you had little chance to meet a revenant yourself, you must have heard something about them. I want to channel you, Rajya. When I fight. I already have my talents for guns and my highly inaccurate sense of proportion from you, and that has gone quite well, so imagine if I could directly channel your spirit in hand to hand combat? When I use my staff? You knew how to fight with one too, didn't you? You are so much more experienced than I. Allowing you to guide my movements would--”

“--I do not fight.” The answer is sharp and cutting, yellow eyes darting towards Pen's face behind an unpleasant snarl. “What part of 'pacifist' did you not understand, sapling? Twenty years in the home of my race's enemy? You have felt the things I have felt, and you dare to speak so foolishly. As if you are a bouncing baby tree that knows nothing but the Grove and Ventari's teachings.”

Pen shrinks back, withdrawing her hand, clutching it onto the fur around the collar of her coat. “Oh—yes. I, I am sorry. I get carried away, sometimes. I am not all Rajya, after all. I am Pen as well.”

She offers a reassuring smile, but the charr turns away. The charr fades away, melding with the evening shadows before her very eyes.

Pen has discovered that spirits are not quite like the living. They have moments, sometimes hours, even days, where they seem little different. Personalities and memories in a unique fleshy shell, who she can talk to, tell stories, hear advice, learn to cherish as she might a wise old mentor in the corporeal world of Tyria. But just as quickly, they turn on you. They run off, and no matter how long she searches, she can't find her constant companion. The charr has retreated to the Mists somewhere, to brood, or wander, or do whatever it is that moody ghosts do. And Pen feels strangely hollow.

In those hours when she is left alone, when she lies in the long amber grasses and watches the sky glitter and shift, she wonders who she is, who Pen Yfan really is, irreparably altered by a soul far stronger than her own. Would she recognize herself without Rajya in her head? Would she still be a Dreamer? Would she still indulge herself with savory meats, still get lost in the methodical machinery of rifles, still love the tortured land of Ascalon, that she feels far closer to than the Pale Tree herself?

She digs her hands into the dirt. Such questions are dangerous. Fleeting, irrelevant. She is the only Pen Yfan that exists, and ever will exist. Hypotheticals make no difference. Many doors are closed to her, but far more have been opened.

Marea tells herself something similar. She sits very still on a hard wooden chair in the infirmary, the crew's questionable doctor tending to her wound from the previous evening. She took a giant metal pinwheel to the head, and now she grits her teeth and clenches her fists as necromantic tendrils weave through her crushed ear, pulling cartilage back into place. The sound it makes is grisly, wet, sinewy snapping, but through the disgusting melange she begins to hear the birds more clearly, chipperly chittering atop a building across the courtyard. Her eyes flit upward. The birds are small, blue, all standing in a line at the edge of the stone roof. As if watching her, an exhibit on display.

After only a few minutes, the doctor wraps a bandage around her head, and instructs her to wear it just like this for the next three days, after which her ear will have healed properly, good as new. She gets to her feet and strides away without a word of thanks, starting across a long rope bridge to another part of the canyon. It's amazing what magic can do, she thinks, her own insufficiency foremost in her mind. Necromancers can rebuild tiny, minute bones in only fifteen minutes. At least, some can. Not her, never her, the barest minimum of power is all that will grace her since she lost her old focus.

She comes upon a small outcrop in the cliff wall, outfitted with a table and chairs, of once noble make but since scuffed and worn down to better suit their ramshackle home. She sits down in one, kicks her feet up on the table. And finally allows herself to smile. The night before was thrilling—explosions, placed and set off by none other than herself, roving golems and plenty of tech abandoned for the crew to plunder. She lives for the excitement, for the brutality, of a fight for her life. The golem was an unfair match, but even with falling on her ass in the mud and getting whapped upside the head, she can't wait to do the whole thing all over again. In another place, with different dangers, and even better rewards.

Her manic desire for destruction is something she knows to be troubling—it does not bother her, but it takes little sense to put two and two together. That her full embrace of what she considers human nature is what leads to her downfall, over and over again. But so far, since the chilly evening when she spoke to Raigar in the Priory encampment at Fortune's Vale, she has held to her promise. That she would become Marea the Woman, and leave behind the Girl. Leave behind the wanton carelessness. Leave behind the failure.

What constitutes a woman is still to be determined. On the whole, she feels unchanged. She still eats sugary sweets by the dozen, laughs at inappropriate times and becomes needy and jealous when ignored by her captain and best friend. But at the same time, she feels a sense of calm. Something is keeping her grounded. Allowing her to toe the fine line between too much of herself, and just enough. Perhaps she is truly growing up. Maybe she can change. Perhaps it's like Rajya said—all beings, great and small, are capable of changing, of becoming better versions of themselves.

Or perhaps there is disaster lying in wait, just around the corner. After all, life never stays quiet for long. But for now, Marea is content. She tucks her arms behind her head, gazing out over the craggy cliffs, squinting at the hard slate blue of the sky. A sight she has seen in her dreams, for as long as she can remember. Home. For now, she will stay. Live. Work hard and prosper like any average sky pirate might. She will make the most of her time, before the ugly, snarling head of human nature returns to the forefront once more, and plunges her life into chaos.

With a sinking feeling her chest, she wishes that the afternoon would never end.

Funny Things People Say

Funny quotes people say: If you are what you eat, then cannibals are the only humans. Boys are like lava lamps: fun to watch but not too bright. 10 years. Trillions of dollars. Thousands of soldiers dead. State of the art technology. The US finally found Bin Laden... In his house. Dear America, Since you released upon us the horror that is Miley Cyrus (I actually like her a bit but I thought this was funny) , we have decided to retaliate. Its name is Justin Bieber (His songs are ok but I hate him.) and no-one will be spared. Yours faithfully, Canada. When I die, friends will go to my funeral, good friends will cry at my funeral, but my best friend will change my facebook status to "Chilin' with Jesus" Sanity? I never had such a useless thing to begin with! I believe you should live each day as if it were your last, which is why I don't do my laundry. I mean, come on, who would wanna wash clothes on the last day of their life? Parents spend the first part of our lives teaching us to walk and talk, and the rest of it telling us to sit down and shut up. Its always in the last place you look...of course it is, why the heck would you keep looking after I found it? When you get caught looking at him just remember he was looking back. When your down I may not be able to pick you back up, but I promise I'll be willing to lay down right next to you. Sticks and stones may scar my skin but words slice through my soul within. Its not until you're broken that you know what you're made of. There cannot be a crisis this week; my schedule is filled. Whoever said nothing is impossible never tried slamming a revolving door. When your are in jail a friend will bail you out, but a best friend will be sitting right next to you saying "dang, that was fun!" People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don't realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world Silence is golden, duct tape is silver. Life isn't passing me by, its trying to run me over. Boys are like trees, they take 50 years to grow up. Take my advice, I don't use it anyway. I'm going on a quest, to the deepest, darkest corners of my room, in search of what some would call a "floor" - a long and difficult task awaits me my friends, wish me luck, for I may not return alive 1 out of every 4 people are insane. Look at your three best friends, if it's not them, it's you. You laugh now because you're older than me by mere months, but when you're 30 and I'm still 29, who will be laughing then? If something goes without saying, why do people say it? Please note : Christmas is cancelled - apparently you told Santa you were good this year ... and he died laughing People say "Guns don't kill people, People kill people!" Well, I think guns help. If you stood there and yelled Bang, I don't think you'd kill too many people. Boys are like slinkeys, useless, but fun to watch fall down the stairs. I was about to take over the world, but I got distracted when I saw something shiny. Most people learn by observation, and there are the few who learn by experimentation. And then there are those who actually TOUCH the fire to see if it's really hot. Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. God created man-THEN had a better idea! Be insane... because well behaved girls never made history The newscaster is the person who says "Good evening" and then tells you why it's not. You don't like me, well it's mind over matter. I don't mind and you don't matter. 364 days of the year, parents tell their kids not to take candy from strangers, yet on Halloween, its encouraged! Why is that? Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak. One day your prince will come. Mine? Oh,he just took a wrong turn,got lost,and is to stubborn to ask directions. When life gives you lemons, make grape juice, then sit back and let the world wonder how you did it. I like work. It fasinates me. I can sit and stare at it for hours. Why do we teach kids that violence is not the answer and then have them read about wars in school that solved America's problems? You say I'm not cool. But cool is another word for cold. If I'm not cold, I'm hot. I know I'm hot. Thanks for embracing it. A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice. I have CDO. It's like OCD but all of the letters are in alphabetical order...like they should be. It takes skill to trip over flat surfaces. The early bird gets the worm, but it's the second mouse that gets the cheese. I dream of a better world where chickens can cross the road without having their motives questioned. I'm not random, I'm just HEY LOOK A SQUIRREL! You laugh, I laugh. You cry, I cry. You jump off a cliff, I laugh. A good friend will bail you out of jail, but a true friend will be sitting next to you saying, "Dang, that was fun!" Anyone else having trouble getting to Narnia? I've used up all of my sick days so I'm calling in dead. Stereotyping? How do you type with a stereo? People who don't know me think I'm quiet. People who do wish I was. I didn't slap you, I high-fived your face. You're a great friend, but if the zombies are chasing us, I'm tripping you. DEATH: the number 1 killer in the U.S (Or in my case UK)...tell your friends. Hey stupid! Your sock is untied... If my calculations are correct...slinkies escalator = EVERLASTING FUN!! Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes. "To be is to do" Socrates "To do is to be" Sartre "Do be do be do." Sinatra Ever notice that studying is "student" and "dying" put together? Chocolate is the answer no matter what the question is. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle? We're so cool ice cubes are jealous. Im not as random as you think I salad. On a scale of 1 to crazy I'm a penguin. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you. I don't get it...boys think girls are so complicatd. Haven't they met themselves? I see no good reason to act my age. Don't follow my footsteps, I run into walls. Be a dork!! Because being cool is overrated. At this moment, you're the oldest you've ever been. Pretty deep huh? Forgive your enemies. It messes with their heads. Hey you! Yeah you! No, not you, the other guy. You right there! Do you like tacos? Worst time to have a heart attack; during a game of charades. If you're reading this then you're not dead. Good for you. I ROCK! Guitar hero told me. I tried being normal, but I didn't like it. I was going to kill the ugliest person alive but then i thought I'd let your mom live one more day Smile. It makes the world wonder what you're up to. There are two things that are infinite. The universe and human stupidity. And I'm not so sure about the universe. Out of my mind. Be back in five minutes. Normality will be restored as soon as we figure out what it is. Be yourself. That's crazy enough. You always get whats coming to you; unless it gets lost in the mail. Flying is not inherently dangerous- crashing is. The trouble with real life is that there is no background music I have not lost my mind; its backed up on a disk somewhere Beware the letter 'G'. It is the end of everything. Forecast for tonight: darkness If you try to fail and succeed, which one did you do? I am reading a most interesting book about anti-gravity. I just can't put it down. Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died. How come when you mix water with flour, you get glue and then when you add eggs and sugar you get cake? Where does the glue go? If everything seems to be going well, you obviously overlooked something Hell is full of musical amateurs There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line I'm not random I just have many thoughts I'm the kind of person who walks into a chair and apologizes I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it If you had a life you would stop talking about mine We're not retreating! We're advancing in a different direction! Just when I think you've said the stupidest thing ever, you keep on talking The below statement is true The above statement is false Wanna know how to keep an idiot busy? Take him into a round room and tell him to sit in a corner. In a world of cheerios, be a frootloop! When I'm not in my right mind, my left mind gets pretty crowded. You, you, and you panic. The rest of you follow me. Always forgive your enemies, nothing annoys them as much If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with nonsense One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor. Five tequila, six tequila, lock the jail door! I'm mature and you're not. Nah nah nah nah nah nah! If aliens are looking for intelligent life, why the hell are you scared?! Looking for a perfect girl? Go buy yourself a barbie doll. If idiots could fly this place would be an airport. I know KUNG-FU and 42 other dangerous words Me and the gummy bears have a plot to rule the world but shhh its a secret! Quick, whats the number for 9-1-1? By the time you finished reading this you'll realize you just wasted 5 seconds of your life I burst laughing out in class today...I got that joke you told yesterday Hi! I'm human. What're you? Have you considered suing your brain for non-support? Everyone has a right to be ugly, but you're abusing that privilege. I'd like to leave you with one thought...but I'm not sure you have anywhere to put it! Life is like a circle. No wonder I'm so dizzy. Yeah I'm a loser, but I'm the coolest loser you'll ever meet One night, I looked up into the sky. I began counting the reasons why I love you. I was doing great until I ran out of stars. Last night I lay in my bed looking up at the stars and thought to myself, WHERE THE HELL IS MY CEILING!? Its not that I'm not a “people person”... its just that I'm not a “stupid people person”. Better to stay silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt Never argue with an idiot. They'll just drag you down to their level and beat you with experience I wondered why the Frisbee was getting bigger, then it hit me Stupidity killed the cat. Curiosity was framed. Why be difficult, when with just a little bit of effort, you can be impossible?

Headcanons of: Tracer, Mercy and McCree comforting their s/o who have lost member of family

Headcanons for decaffeinated-orange, I hope you'll feel better and lots of power for you! I hope you like this post! ♡ Please tell me if you want me to change/take this post off. ^^

Check her/his blog, and please support them! http://decaffeinated-orange.tumblr.com/ Headcanons of: Tracer, Mercy and McCree comforting their s/o who have lost member of family. Genderneutral s/o Type: fluff, hurt/comfort Warnings: mentions of family member death

Tracer:

-When you told her about your loss, she closes you into tight embrace, burying your face to nape of her neck/against her shoulder. She's usually more or less noisy, but now, she's quiet. She feels so bad and she's very worried when you are this sad/stressed.

-She makes you sit on couch, she makes you cocoa (with lots of whipped cream, marshallows and little chocolate chips, it makes mess but she doesn't care, anything for you) wraps you and herself inside of blanket. She wants you to feel that you are not alone.

-If you feel like crying, she's there right beside you. She won't pressure to you to talk, she will be there for you if you feel like just crying or/and cuddling.

-At nights she will lay your head on her shoulder, combing her fingers tenderly through your hair/stroke your head, will hum some old english lullaby if you have trouble with sleeping. Will also make some chamomile tea for you if you want.

-Tries to help you with your and your family's chores and give you some time to breathe.

-Asks help from Mercy and Zenyatta so she could help you to manage through this rough time.

-Wants to take you to city and do some shopping, to arcade and maybe to do some fun sport with you to take your thoughts to somewhere else so you can release your stress.

-Feeds to you some fish and chips to you. Does that 'here comes the aeroplane!" thing to you. Smiling to you with love and endearment shining in her eyes.

-Cuddles available almost 24 h, anywhere, anytime.

-When you cry, gives you tender pecks on everywhere on your face.

-Does everything she cans for you; you want some  shop exclusive candy? Cavalry’s on and off to mission for her lovely love! There's some book/movie you have wanted for ages? You will have gift on your nightstand in next morning! You want coffee at 3 a.m? Coffee is brewing with some snack.

-If someone tries to pry too much to your business, you may find yourself being dragged away by Lena.

-She wants to make her lover happy; their smile is like sunrise to them, and she's willing to fight and stand on your side through the night and light.

Mercy:

-She noticed that something was up before you started to tell to her with voice cracking about your heavy loss.

-When she had heard the news, she closed you into gentle but firm embrace, burying your face into crook of her neck, stroking and combing her hand through your hair and/or rubbing your back with soft and slow touch.

-If she was doing reports, they lie now abandoned on the table. Her lover needs her, and she wants to be there on your side when you need her.

-Because she's doctor, she have seen lots of deaths and had to be calm through them despite the pain. But now when you are so distressed of tragedy, she finds herself struggling and feels her heart tighten painfully when she sees and hears your pained and grieving tears, sobs and cries...it breaks her heart as her lover suffers.She remembers very well how painful loss of someone dear feels.

-Will make you lay down on sofa your head on her lap, stroking your head and cradling you against her, you can bury your head against her and cry.

-When you and her lay on bed, she presses your head gently to her chest, and strokes your hair/head. If you don't want to face her when laying down, she spoons you. Will read to you if you can't sleep or/and will talk about her day, will also make you some tea.

-Becomes instantly even more attentive towards your health and keeps eye on you, she tries to get you to sleep, eat and not strain yourself too much.

-She becomes also very protective of you; she may tell to other Overwatch members to not strain you too much and may sometimes shoo others away if someone pries too much to your business. If you start feeling unwell, she may go to walk with you. She may also take you somewhere peaceful for tea and snack.

-Tries to help you and your family as she can.

-Will be there for you if you feel like crying, cuddles you you gently and pets your nape, whispering gentle words in germany language

-Will listen if you feel like talking about your loss

-Expect being feed with really good Swiss chocolate. If it smears your face, expect kisses to spots where is chocolate.

-Makes you to take relaxing bubble bath with her, and she talks to you some funny things what have happened in her years of Overwatch.

-Imagine you and her cuddling after nice bath in bed.

-Will also ask Zenyatta to help, if you want.

McCree:

-McCree hurried where you are so fast as he can when he heard that you seemed very upset.

-He run through the door, and heard sobs and hiccup, and he directed where you are. You we're sitting on couch, head on your hands. Your voice sounded absolutely heartbroken. He felt his heart tighten and break at sametime.

-He knelt before you and put his arm on your shoulder. You gazed to him, and he saw deep agony and grief in your eyes.

-He went into slight panic mode his brains we're progressing the options, were you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Did something happen? His protectiviness kicks in.

-He sits next to you, wrapping other arm around your waist and other wiped gently your tears and stroked your wet cheek.

-"Darlin' is everything alright? Did someone hurt you?" his grip on your waist tightened slightly at last question.

-You lowered your gaze, and you told with cracking voice what had happened.

-His eyes widened, and he pulled you to his lap, kissed your rolling tears, cheek and closing you tight and warm cuddle-embrace. He cradles you against him, rocking you gently to back and forth.

-After sometime, he rises from couch, picking you up with him in prorgress. He carries you to your bed, placing you to your bed very carefully. He climbs to bed next to you and pulls you back into his embrace. He strokes your hair and rubs your back in comforting manner, whispering words of comfort, letting you to know with his words, presence and gentle and warm touch that he is there with you.

-He makes you to wear his serape, and places his next to you as he rises from bed. He kisses your forehead softly. "Wait here sweetheart, I'll come back to you in moment." And leaves from bedroom.

-When he comes back (and that took only couple of minutes) he carries in his hand steaming mug of cocoa. The cocoa haves ridiculously big whipped cream-hat, he tried to draw with chocolate sauce some hearts on it. And marshallows.

-He gives you your drink and cuddles you in his arms, rubs your lower back gently and with soft and tender voice fulled with love and seriousity, he kisses your forehead and resting his forehead against yours tells you that he will be there for you, you are not alone, and we will make through this together. He seals these promises with with kiss and "I love you". -He takes his promise of helping and being there for you and making it through together VERY seriously. He will focus on you and your needs even more than before. You feel sadness breaking through? He will be there hugging you and supporting you, whispering words of comfort to your ear. You feel thirsty? "Water for my heartcatcher!". Hungry? On your way for some nice tacos. Feeling very stressed/tired, he is there to cuddle you, giving perhaps massage. He wants to do everything that he can and support you through the hard times and see your smile someday (he wont rush you, he knows how hard it's when person loses someone dear and close), like lovers and partners do. You are his partner in crime. <3

-Will take you to ride on horse and do some sightseeing, he thinks it may help you to feel if you get some fresh air. And he tells stories about his Blackwatch days. Will also tell you some of his embarrasing happenings about that time, just to see your smile, laugh or just to make you feel better. Will also take you to see sunsetting. (Be warned: when watching that sunsetting, Cavities-causing powers  of cheesiness will more or less ensue there.)

-If you are feeling uncomfortable somewhere where is people, he will place your hat and/or serape around you. And he wraps his arm around your shoulder. If you want to leave the place, he excuses you both off. -He understands to leave you alone for time of your own, will come to check you, and will bring snack to you. (And kiss to forehead).

-Gets even more protective of you when you feel down, if he sees that someone is treating you bad/not leaving you alone/being too prying, the aura (and sometimes glint of deadeye) of approaching cowboy man is sometimes enough to send them away/give you some space). Other way he will just ask his friends to not push you or strain you too much.

-His apple pies he is good baking...they are so delicious, they make the sorrow easier to deal when your stomach haves that heart and tearmelting goodness. -Will help your family as much he can, he wants you and your family to have time to breathe and relax.

-Asks help/advice Zenyatta for relaxing/coping with sorrow and Mercy for keeping you healthy.

Chapter Two-Hundred Thirty-Two: Beatrice/Calix

Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

After hearing everything the professors had to say at the debriefing- stay inside, use the buddy system if you have to go to the bathroom, stay away from windows -Beatrice had had enough. Her friends were alive, the school was safe, and she was tired. The echoing chatter bouncing off the walls of the Great Hall was enough to give her a headache. While friends celebrated and enemies made peace, the young witch was discontented with the fact she could do neither.

She stepped outside the doors of the Great Hall, her arms crossed over her snagged green knit jumper, rust-colored stains pooling around each tear in the soft yarn. Leaning in the doorway, she stared out at the hallway, a saddened smile pulling at her tired lips as she remembered Halina strutting up and down the staircase, wearing reckless abandon about her shoulders like armor. She could almost see the vivacious politician in training sitting on a bench in the hall, a heavy law textbook in her lap, and a delicate purse by her side, mentally undressing every man who walked past her.

Beatrice glanced over her shoulder, checking nobody was watching as she slipped from the Great Hall out into the corridor, heading towards the splintered double doors a couple of charms majors were fastidiously working to put back together. Leaning against the intricately carved banister of the staircase outside the Infirmary, she stood staring out at the dawn of a new day staining the sky a soft yellow.

Hallie would have loved to have seen this sunrise.

The infirmary had been a hive of voracious activity throughout the night, a sweltering mine of rich relief and exhausting exasperation. Calix, after wiping away the tears of happiness that clouded his eyes, threw himself into helping those around him, working expertly alongside Doctor Evans. Those who had been injured in the rising were cooped up in the infirmary, stacked together like caged birds on beds, chairs, windowsills and even on the floor, while those you had returned to them, those reborn from the green ashes of magic, were clustered in the storeroom until Calix and Evans got a chance to look at them properly.

He spent a few hours in the infirmary, an endless recital of spells and charms in archaic languages rolling from his tongue like memorised poetry. While he moved from patient to patient, some laughing deliriously, some quite like stone and some conversing in hushed but grateful times, Calix was glad that Sam and Tysoe had offered to stay the night, their lent hands greatly appreciated for minor errands, tasks, and runs. Eventually, as the golden morning rays began to poke through the windows, Calix forced himself to retire. There was very little else he could do, when all his magic was spent, except getting lost in his own thoughts.

He passed out of the infirmary, stepping out into the quiet corridor, colored straw-yellow by the rising sun, wringing his raw and tired hands together as the vitality sigils carved into the back of his hands burned out.

Beatrice tore her gaze away from the gold swept clouds outside, smiling as she looked over at Calix just leaving the hospital wing. Pushing off the mahogany banister, she took a few steps towards the man, her small, cold hands outstretched towards his. “Hey there, stranger. You okay?”

The sweet sound brought a smile to Calix’s tired lips, the edges of his mouth cracking. He gently took Beatrice’s hands in his and pulled her close, wincing a little, but braving the pain.

“Hey there, love. I’m… I’m alive, I suppose. How are you?”

“Tired.” She looked at his hands, his skin red and flaking, having been scrubbed raw over the course of the night. “Oh, dear. Maybe for Valentine’s Day this year I should get you a bottle of extra strength hand lotion,” she teased, wrapping her arms lightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Too bad I already got you a gift.”

Calix groaned heavily, Beatrice’s hold putting unwanted pressure on his shoulder joint. A sharp pain darted across his back, traveling down along his spine, and sending a shudder through his body, a reflexive, involuntary recoil.

“My hands are always gonna be this way, love,” Calix tried to chuckle through the pain, “And what do you mean you already got me a gift? Really?”

Beatrice nodded took a step back and pulled the collar of her jumper away from her skin, lifting a set of three stainless steel keys on a silver chain from around her neck. She deftly unclasped the necklace, and took one of the keys off, stashing it in the pocket of her ripped blue jeans before handing the others to him. “To the Observatory. One for you, and one for Ryker,” she explained quietly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, pele.”

“The Observatory?” Calix asked, looking down at the two keys in his hand, the smooth metal beautiful engraved and charged with magical energy. He stared at the early Valentine’s gift without saying another word for a moment, mesmerised by both of them.

“One for Ryker? And me? You mean…”

“I was wondering if the two of you would like to come and live with me in my new house. We have seven months before school starts, and I’m sure my mother would be happy to have somebody as bright and talented as you working with her. And I think Ryker would really like living in Samoa with us. He’d have his own room and there’s a pool and a library in the Observatory, and we’re at the top of the mountain so he wouldn’t have to worry about what the neighbors might think. I know Mahana and Keise would be happy to welcome him to the family too,” she babbled, finally taking a breath when she realized she was dangerously light headed.

She laced her fingers together and held her clasped hands steadily in front of her, slowly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, the chill radiating off the polished wooden floor seeping through the worn soles of her Toms. “What do you think?”

The gears inside Calix’s mind churned sluggishly, struggling to properly process the torrent of information. Calix fixated on the keys for a moment longer, slowly curling his coarse fingers around them until the jagged teeth bit harshly into the palm of his hand.

Glancing up, Calix stepped closer and drew Beatrice into a hearty embrace, clenching his teeth but holding to his chest her as tightly as he could.

“I love you, Beatrice,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you, Calix,” she mumbled into his chest, the sweet smell of cherry blossoms whirling around her head like a cloud of cotton candy. “Please tell me that’s a yes,” she said as she pulled back a bit, staring up into his eyes, her hand tenderly cupping his cheek in her soft palm.

“Are you joking?” Calix laughed, throwing his head back at the innocence of her worrying and the pleading look in her star-filled eyes.

“Bea, I’m not sure if I’m ever coming back here again, but whatever happens, I’m never letting you go, love,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a tender lock, “It’s yes, a million times yes.”

She kissed him again and again until her toes began to cramp and she had to stand down on solid ground once more, her ear resting on his chest, the steady, reliable beat of his heart counting each moment as it passed. Whatever had happened this year, losing friends, saying goodbye to mortal enemies, and nearly falling apart more times than she could count, she had to thank this magical place for carrying her own little world to a grinding halt so she could see the heavens beyond.

It was worth it.

Stood there with Calix, basking in the glow of a new day, the dew frozen solid on blades of grass in the meadow beyond the castle, a bittersweet chill cleansing the air as the occupants of a castle would soon have to set forth into a new world, Beatrice closed her eyes and let it all wash over her. She would return to Idorna when the time came because it’s where her life changed forever and more than anything, she wanted to discover what else the stars had in store for her. “I can’t wait.”