#and then i collected a bunch of flowers but i tucked those between some book pages already

[teddybeartoji]

went Outside today again>:3333

was listening to megan thee stallion while collecting these i felt like a real baddie ngl😌😌 oke no but look how fucking big some of these are????!!!!

[nalgenewhore]

storm

essar x lorcan, alternate canon au, domestic fluff, word count: 1556

Outside, the storm rages. The windows and cupboard doors rattle, the noise forcing tension to crawl up her spine. Essar sighs softly and turns over again, just as a clap of thunder erupts in the skies above. The female startles, immediately reaching for her bedmate.

As she stretches towards him, she hesitates, her eyes tracking over his slumbering face. He’s been so tired lately, what with all their preparations for the winter. She shouldn’t bother him, she thinks. With another sigh, Essar returns to her spot and tucks her hands beneath her pillow. She closes her eyes, but the flash of lightning is bright and they open a moment later.

She curses into her pillow, frowning in annoyance. Essar peeks out at her mate, who has hardly moved, except to rub the tip of his nose and wrinkle his brow. She turns her head and watches him, silent. Something in her chest calms as she continues staring at Lorcan, but she knows that sleep will still evade her. Carefully, the Fae gets up from her bed and pads across the mat-covered floor to the door of their bedroom.

Essar slips through the door and walks down the hall, Lorcan’s shirt falling to her mid-thighs. Her bright eyes trail over their cosy cabin, seeing the fire that glows in the coals of their fireplace. Before it, on a soft wolf pelt rug, her clothes are still laying rumpled from their… frenzy. A smirk pulls at her plump lips and Essar scurries into the kitchen, her body recalling his warmth. After her tea, she’ll curl up next to him and his presence will soothe her back to sleep.

The storm attempts to shake the house, but it doesn’t bother her as much anymore. Essar feeds kindling and larger pieces of wood into the oven, summoning her flame to set it alight. The heavy kettle is still halfway full, so she won’t need to fetch water for it. She puts it down on the metal surface and takes a mug down from the shelf.

She spins to the island counter, where they keep a collection of various everyday dried herbs to make their drinks. There’s a hand-sized mortar and pestle next to the collection. Essars plucks a small jar from the neat row and pries the cork off with an audible ‘pop’. She tilts it to the side, trying to determine how much of the tea blend is left.

A week or so ago, they traveled to the nearest village to stock up on supplies that were hard to come by, like specialty dried flowers and roots, dairy products like butter and a dozen pints of goat milk, eggs, flour, and sugar too. Their pantry is well stocked and Essar knows they don’t need to worry about starving over the colder months.

She takes a small linen bag and shakes some of the blend into it, then ties the drawstring closing shut and puts it in her cup. While she waits for the kettle to boil, Essar keeps her eye on the weather outside, watching it whip at their sheet-covered crops. A slight frown graces her brow. She doesn’t like to see their plants so abused.

It doesn’t take long for the kettle to boil. When its steam billows in the air, Essar lifts it off of the stove and carefully fills her cup a few centimetres beneath the rim. Then she lets it steep for a few moments as she hunts for the honey. She knows her love has hidden it somewhere. It’s a joking habit of theirs, wanting to keep the sticky-sweet treat all for themselves.

Essar finds the jar quickly and takes the teabag out. As she stirs in some honey, she hears steady footsteps tracking across the wood floor, made audible so that she isn’t scared moments later. Two big, tattoo-covered arms circle around her waist and his head comes down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Essar,” Lorcan grumbles, clearly displeased from waking up to an empty bed. He sniffs and presses his lips to the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her, “S’matter, love?”

“Nothing,” she murmurs back, resting her free hand on his forearm. “Just can’t sleep. The storm.” Essar stirs in her honey and turns to look at him. Lorcan’s eyes are shut and she grins, leaning back against him. She loves the way his shoulders curl around her, protecting her.

He hums, “Why didn’t’cha wake me?”

“You… you were sleeping. And you’ve been working so hard lately.” Heat blooms across her crescent-shaped cheeks, knowing that he’ll think her reasons ridiculous. The male leaps at chances to comfort her and fuss over her. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Lorcan gently nips at her soft brown skin, his elongated canines scratching harder than the others. “You could never bother me, Tangaroa.”

She smiles and turns her head to kiss his temple, “Alright, darling. Would you like some tea?”

He sighs through his nose and lifts his head, humming lowly. “No, s’alright. Just wondered where ya were.” Lorcan taps Essar’s hip so she’ll turn and she does, her tea cupped between both hands. Lovingly, with such care, he brushes her wavy hair back and kisses her forehead, “Is it the storm?” His mate has never taken well to them. Storms don’t frighten her, per se, they simply disrupt her sleep and are a tiresome, stress-inducing nuisance.

Essar nods, “Yes. Come sit with me.” She reaches behind her to take one of his hands and neatly spins out of his arms, leading him to their living room. They bypass the large couch in favour of the armchair. It’s a snug fit, what with Lorcan’s towering stature. Essar is not a small being either – the top of her head comes just past his chin. Her legs are across his lap, her backside on the cushion beside his left thigh. Lorcan rests a hand on her thigh and eases his other arm around her waist, his fingers splayed across her ribcage.

She laughs when she sees his eyelids drooping and kisses the bridge of his nose, “Tired, are we?”

He smiles softly and nods. Blinking hard a few times, Lorcan sits up straight and strokes his thumb over her side as Essar sips on her sweetened tea. “Gimme a sip,” he implores her, nudging his chin towards her mug.

Essar smirks and arches a brow up while she moves her drink away from him. “Thought you said you didn’t want any.”

His grin widens, showing her those dishy dimples that they both know she’s weak for. “Just a wee bit, my love.” She rolls her eyes and concedes, letting him have a taste. In thanks, Lorcan kisses the curve of her shoulder before resting his chin atop her head.

She nestles into him and clicks her tongue, “Ya big thug. Stealing your mate’s tea. How shameful.”

Lorcan huffs a laugh through his nose and winds his fingers through her hair, his neat nails scratching her scalp. Essar melts instantly, near purring as her eyes become hooded and gently slip shut. Unseen by her, the male smiles a pleased smile, pride sparking in his chest at the sight of the female he adores happy under his care. Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes, staying curled where she is, and finishes her tea slowly.

He takes her empty mug and puts it on the end table, right next to a stack of books. “Feeling ready to sleep now?” Lorcan asks her softly, petting her hair gently. Essar hums and kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Yes, but… only if you… carry me,” she whispers, voice drowsy and sweet.

“Of course,” Lorcan tells her, hooking his arm beneath her knees and the other across her shoulders. He cradles her against his chest and stands smoothly, walking across the cabin. The storm seems to have lessened in its intensity, the strikes of lightning softer, the rolling of thunder gentler.

He bumps the door open with his hip and kicks it shut, remembering to not use full force. Essar is seconds away from true slumber, he can feel it as she becomes heavier and heavier in his arms, relaxing into him. He won’t do anything to jeopardise her rest.

The layered blankets and quilts on their bed are rumpled, pushed to the foot of the mattress. Lorcan sets Essar down and eases himself beside her. She makes a noise in the back of her throat and shifts closer to him as he pulls the covers over them.

Essar fits herself against him, stretching her arm across his waist and hitching her leg over his hip. Her head is rested against his chest. Lorcan runs his hand down her side and fits his hand in cradle above her hip, making the shirt she’s wearing bunch up. He rubs his thumb over her waist and she hums again, shifting so that her chest is cushioned against his.

He buries his face in her hair, smelling her gentle sea salt and tiare blossom scent. “I love you, Ess.”

More asleep than not, his mate mumbles an incomprehensible jumble of words, but he smiles all the same, knowing exactly what she’s saying. With all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

<3<3<3

an: i realise i dont have a taglist for this so......im going to tag a couple people who i know appreciate essar n lorcan <3 let me know if u want to b added for future writings !

@sassyhobbits @hellasblessed @ladyverena

[ana-deaky]

London Boy || Joe Mazzello x Ben Hardy

Author’s Note:  Written for @borhapbois for the Bohemian Rhapsody Summer Event 2020.  I loved the prompts that you gave me and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it too :)

Summary: Joe and Ben meets each other via an anonymous app. What turns into a fun conversation, turns into a friendship leads to something else.

Inspired by the song London Boy by Taylor Swift and a few true events.

-

Here we go...

-

I saw the dimples first ....

"You're making me smile", came the reply from Ben as Joe described how gorgeous he looked in the picture the Ben sent. "I wish I could see that.", Joe texted back. "If it weren't for the 5000 miles between us, I'd ask you out right now.", Joe added. "Really?", Ben asked. "Of course.", Joe said. "I could hug you right now.", came Ben's reply. "Same.", Joe replied, "What's your ideal first date?", Joe asked. "Hmmm. A classy meal and then maybe cocktails and an evening walk by the river or something.", Ben said. "Noted.", Joe said. "What's yours?", Ben asked. "Drinks. Dinner and dancing.", Joe replied. "Dancing, really?", Ben asked. "Oh yea. I'm taking you dancing. Probably won't be sober much. And that's probably for our best.", Joe replied. "I can't wait to meet you, Joseph.", replied Ben. "Me too. Hopefully soon.", Joe texted back.

....and then I heard the accent....

The quarantine kept them apart distance-wise, but the both were constantly in touch with each other. Texting, calling and an occasional virtual date until one day during conversation Ben asked, "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend right now?" Ben saw a smile creep on Joe's lips before he took a sip of the coffee. "You should ask me and find out.", Joe replied shrugging his shoulder trying not to smile. "Will you be my boyfriend? I mean it will be long distance for a while and...", Ben said when Joe interrupted, "Yes!" Ben's eyes grew wide, "Yes-yes?", he asked again. "Yes-yes", said Joe nodding vigorously as he gave that toothy grin of his. "We're boyfriends. Oh my god, I can't believe it.", Ben said excitedly. "That needs some getting used to.", Joe said still smiling. "Well get used to it, boyfriend.", Ben said. Joe gave a laugh.

....They say home is where the heart is....

Ben was woken up from his sleep with a series of text notifications, Ben rubbed his eyes and took the phone squinting at the bright light and saw Joe's name on the screen and a series of texts.

And then came a call from Joe and shriek from the other side, "Are you up?". "Clearly.", said Ben rubbing his eyes and asked, "What's got you so excited this morning?" "My tickets got confirmed. I'm coming to London.", Joe said practically squealing. "Oh my god! That's amazing. When are you getting here?", Ben said excitedly. "Friday afternoon. I got the hotel reservations and everything sorted out. And I have you to-", Joe said when Ben interrupted, "Hold on a sec. You booked a hotel room? No. You're not gonna stay in some hotel. No, you are gonna stay right here in my place." "But-", Joe started. "That wasn't a suggestion, babe. You're gonna stay with me and that's the end of it.", Ben said. "Alright I'll cancel my reservation. Happy?", Joe asked. "Very. And send me your flight details. I'll pick you up from the airport.", Ben said, "We're finally seeing each other. Oh my god. It's about time.", he added. "You read my mind. I'm so excited. I'm gonna go pack. Call you later babe.", Joe said and said, "Love ya Benny." "Love you too.", Ben replied and they hung up.

Joe: Ben

Joe: Ben!

Joe: Ben!!

Joe: BEN!!!!!!!

Joe: Benjamin

Joe: Wake up!!

Joe: Wake up wake up wake up wake up!!!

Ben: I'm up now.

****

"Are you sure you got everything?", Ben asked as Joe walked around his house while holding the phone in front of his face. "Yes Ben. I got everything. Stop worrying.", Joe said. "I'm just excited.", Ben said. "You don't say.", Joe said smirking and took a seat on the couch. "When is the cab getting there?", Ben asked. "In a couple minutes.", Joe said. "You have to text me once you have checked in and boarded. And call me or text me when you land.", Ben said. "Ben, you need to calm down. We've been over this. I got this and I'll keep you updated.", Joe said. "It's just-", Ben said. "I know Benny, I am excited too. And again, we'll see in a couple hours. Okay?", Joe told and Ben nodded. "Cab's here.", Joe announced, "Gotta run. Love ya, byee", Joe said and hung up the video call right after Ben said goodbye.

****

Joe collected his luggage and followed the trail of people towards the exit. His excitement and nervousness rising every step on the way. Outside the gate, Joe's eyes searched for his boyfriends and there he was, Ben, scanning everyone going in front of him until Ben's green eyes met Joe's eyes as Joe walked towards the exit to finally unite with his soulmate, his boyfriend. Everything was happening fast, it felt like the world was moving too fast around him . And what seems like eternity passes by the time Joe is in front of Ben and a moment passes before the two of them hug each other. Joe lets out a sigh of relief as the dopamine spikes. The two of them finally pulls away unable to hide their smiles. "Hello boyfriend", Ben says. "Hello yourself", Joe replies. "You know you're grinning like an idiot, right?", Ben said as led the way to his car. "You're one to talk.", Joe replied. Ben opened the car trunk and Joe proceeded to take his luggage when Ben held Joe's hand and told, "Let me." and let go off him. Ben could feel Joe's eyes on him as he put the bags in the car and closed the trunk and turned to face Joe who immediately said, "What a gentleman." with a hand over his chest. "Oh shove it", Ben said and moved around the car to get in as Joe did the same.

Joe: Landed

Ben: I'm right outside the gate

"Ready to go?", Ben said. "Yes.", Joe said putting on his seat belt. "Are you sure you're not forgetting something?", Ben asked as he started driving out of the airport. "I know exactly what you mean. And no, I didn't forget. I'd much rather talk to you, we can always listen to the song later.", Joe asked. "Wow. I am actually moved that you chose to talk to me over listening to 'Somebody To Love', than listening to Queen. You must really love me then.", Ben said. "You're unbelievable. Of course I do love you. More than Queen? Hmm let me think about it. Nope. But you're getting there.", as Joe finished Ben pulled over the car. "I'm just kidding", Joe said. And Ben started driving again. "So how was your flight?", Ben asked. "Oh it was good. Slept for the most part you know to balance the timezone and whatever. So, good.", Joe answered and asked, "What are we doing today?" "I thought we could go out for a drink if you're up for it or we can stay in and order something in.", Ben said. "Drinks it is.", Joe said. "Alright. I know a great place where we can go.", Ben said. "Perfect.", said Joe and started fiddling with the audio system of the car. "I knew you could't hold off for that long.", Ben said chuckling. "It's not my fault that it is a great song. It's a freaking masterpiece. And I know you know that.", Joe said finally clicking the play button on his phone. The car filled with Freddie's vocals as the two of them sang along.

A few singalong's and a drive later, Ben opened the door and carried in Joe's bag, "Welcome to my humble abode. It's not too much but you know that already from our video calls." "Like I said then and I'm saying it again, you've got a lovely home.", Joe said smiling, "Where can I put these away?", Joe said pointing to his bags. "I'll take care of those. After I give you a tour of the house. Come on.", Ben said extending his hand to Joe, which he definitely took and Ben walked around the house showing Joe around everywhere including the small backyard and finally they ended up in Ben's bedroom. "I've left you some towels on the bed. And you know where the bathroom is. I'll be in the living room. You need to freshen up after the flight.", Ben said. "Ookayy", Joe responded and Ben left the room.

A few moments later Joe went out to the living room wearing a khaki pants, white shirt tucked in and a navy blue sweater over the shirt. "Wow don't you look handsome", said Ben taking a look at Joe. "Thank you very much.", Joe replied. "Let's get going", Ben said hopping up from his seat on the couch. "Hold on a minute. You're going out dressed like this?", Joe said pointing at Ben's t-shirt and baggy jeans. "What's wrong with it?", Ben asked. "It's too home-y", Joe said. "Alright I'll change. Be right back.", Ben said and went to his room.

"Joe, could you get the door please? Joe!", Ben shouted from the bedroom as the doorbell kept ringing. "Joe?", shouted as Ben came into living room searching for Joe who was nowhere to be seen and finally opened the door to reveal Joe standing at the doorway smiling with his right hand behind his back. "Whatcha got there buddy?", Ben asked. "Oh this", Joe said bringing his hand to the front which was holding a bunch of red roses, "These. These are for you." "And I thought you weren't a romantic.", Ben said and immediately hugged Joe. "Can we go inside now?", asked Joe. "Why? Are you cold?", asked Ben with a puzzled look straightening Joe's jacket with hands. "Oh no. I think your neighbor is coming to get me for these.", Joe nearly finished the sentence and Ben pulled Joe inside the house. "I'm gonna put these in some water", Ben said taking the flowers and walked towards the kitchen getting the clear vase on the counter and filled the vase and said, "So my "home-y clothes" were an excuse for you to slip out, huh?" "Oh no. I actually meant it. Those baggy jeans didn't do any justice those thighs.", Joe said gesturing hands to Ben's thighs. "Shut it. You're embarrassing me.", Ben said his cheeks reddening. "What?? I'm just stating the obvious.", Joe said, "And as your boyfriend, I am allowed to talk about your thighs." "Thank you my darling.", Ben said face still red. "You're welcome. Can we go?", Joe asked. "Yea let's go.", Ben said and got the keys to the house.

The bar was right around the corner, so the boys decided to enjoy the London weather which was quite chilly but not too cold for them to walk. Ben, usually being the shy one, was talking non-stop about his neighborhood, Joe smiled and quietly listened to Ben's accent (which is to die for).

For a Friday evening, the bar was not too crowded, the boys took a step inside, Joe looked around to see a couple on stage performing "Purple Rain" . "Oh man! We're late. We're supposed to be singing that.", Joe said. "Oh no we're not singing. I'm terrible at it.", Ben said as the two walked towards any empty table. "Who's spreading these lies? Have you heard yourself sing? Because I have.", Joe said a taking his seat. "Wh-when did I sing? I don't remember.", Ben said. "Remember one night when, I told you to hold the call one day when I went to lock the front door. You were singing while holding.", Joe said and sang imitating Ben, "This thing called love" "I didn't know you heard that.", Ben said. "Oh baby, I always listen.", Joe said right before the waitress came over, "What can I get you guys?", the girl said making eyes at both Ben and Joe. "I'll have a scotch on the rocks", Ben said. "And we'll four tequila shots each with lime.", Joe said for which Ben gave an impressive sort of expression and said, "The fish and chips they have here is to die for. We're gonna have two of those too.", Ben said and smiled at the girl who was taking the order. "Alright.", she said and left. "Are you trying to get me drunk?", Ben asked. "No babe. I wouldn't dream of it." and the waitress came back with the drinks, "Enjoy", she said. Joe raised a shot glass and Ben mirrored the action, "To our first date", said Joe and Ben repeated, "To us." and they took the shot. And so it began.

Five shots and a meal later, Joe banging on the table, "So you are saying you have never ever ever ever done it? It's impossible. You must have done it at least once.", Joe said. "No not even once.", Ben said. "Well then you are now.", Joe said and stood up, "Come on." "Where to?", Ben asked. "We're going to rectify the situation right now.", Joe said. "Hold on.", Ben said and chugged on the leftover Scotch and let out a growl, "Let's do this." "Woo", Joe said loudly. The both walked to nearer to the small stage on the other side of the bar. "Mr. Karaoke Man", Joe said and Ben started laughing attracting the attention of the guy who was sitting behind a laptop casually jamming to the music in the bar. "See my boyfriend here", Joe said pointing both his thumb to Ben, "Never did a karaoke EVER." "Never ever ever", added a drunk Ben from the side. "Could you play..", Joe snapped out of the sentence, "Wait what would we sing?", Joe said blinking at Ben. "We'll ask Karaoke Man.", Ben said and Joe turned to the young man. "How about 'Bohemian Rhapsody'?", the guy asked. And Ben said a series of loud "yes'" and practically leaped onto the stage and almost tripped, "I'm okay", said Ben into the mic which he was given just then. Just then the karaoke started playing.

A roar of applause and cheers concluded the singing. "Benny boy", Joe said. "Joey", Ben replied. "If I could sing a song for you now, do you know which one I'd sing for you?", Joe said sinking into the chair. "Which one?", Ben said. "LIAR!", Joe said causing Ben to raise his eyebrows, "What you said you don't sing and you just gave a Grammy worthy performance. You know what, if Queen ever decide to do a biopic we should audition.", Joe said clapping and took his glass of whiskey. "First of all, you're drunk", Ben said taking Joe's glass away causing Joe to whine. "Second, I'm taking you home. Because you're wasted." "And you aren't.", Joe said. "You had too much. Come on off we go.", Ben said getting up and giving Joe a hand. Joe gets up and puts an arm over Ben's shoulder. "Wow you're pumped. Jeez!", Joe said squeezing Ben's bicep. "Ohh stop it.", Ben said walking towards the bar. "Ooh I'm paying.", Joe said. "You can't even stand", Ben said. "I'm good, I can stand. Joe's a big boy.", Joe said. "Okay big boy.", Ben said and Joe almost fell onto the counter, "Whoa!", Joe said holding onto the counter's edge and took out his wallet and gave a card, "Here you go". "Sir, this is an ID card.", the girl said. "Oops", Joe said putting back his card and gave another. "You're wasted.", Ben said. "No I'm not.", Joe said. "Or so you say.", Ben said, "Let's get going." Ben put an arm over Joe so that Joe could walk properly. "Next time, I'm ordering the drinks.", Ben said walking out the door.

The boys were walking down the street towards Ben's block when there was a crowd gathered right around the corner and music filling the cold air of the night. As they were almost going to pass the street when Joe stood right there next to the crowd. "Oh come on. Let's get those moves out", Joe said and started dancing. "Oh this is too good.", Ben said taking out his phone and started filming Joe dance around him. Few people from the crowd joined in on the dancing, making it more lively when Joe pulled on Ben's hand, "Come on. Loosen up baby!" and pulled Ben into the group.

A song later, the boys were back to walking back home with Joe still hanging onto his boyfriend's shoulder, walking zig-zag on the sidewalk. "Have I told you that I worked on a movie called 'Dear Sidewalk'?", Joe said rather loudly. "You might've mentioned it once.", Ben said, "We're here. Home sweet home." walking towards the doorway. "Can you stand?", Ben asked leaning Joe, who was half sleep and mostly still drunk, on the wall. Joe nodded and hummed, "Mm-hm" while Ben fished out the house keys from his pocket and struggled to unlock the door under the dim porch light. Joe kept mumbling something inaudibly while Ben was unlocking the door. Once Ben opened the door, Ben walked Joe inside the house and locked the front door.

"Let's get you ready for bed now, shall we?", Ben said. Joe spoke with a sudden energy, "Now we talking." Ben rolled his eyes and said, "Oh my god. Just sit down on the bed." Joe sat down as he was told and Ben knelt at his foot to remove Joe's shoes followed by his socks and threw them to the side. He stood up and leaned over to pull Joe's sweater over his head after clearing Joe's pockets and put the sweater on the chair beside. "Do you wanna keep your shirt on?", Ben asked. Joe shook his head sleepily and Ben started unbuttoning Joe's shirt, "Not how I thought this would go", Joe mumbled as Ben took the shirt off and threw it along with the sweater. "Okay I'll be right back." Joe just nodded sleepily.

When Ben reemerged to his room, he saw Joe sleeping on one side of his bed. Ben slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around Joe spooning Joe and Joe said, "I love you", putting his hand over Ben's and Ben whispered to Joe's ears, "I love you too."

.....But that's not where mine lives ❤️

-

Tags: @thosequeenboys @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @brinteylovesaliens @mazzell-ro @amethyst-serenade @hardzelloqueen @stewielover95​ @captaincoffeegirl515​ @detectivecutiepantsandhisbabyfox​ @hellysthings​

If you wanna be in the tags or be removed from it, DM me.

[hexusproductions]

Lavender Heart

Summary: You visit Levi again while running from other creatures in the temple. He’s usually focused on himself, but you manage to catch his attention with something unexpected; the simple truth. Author’s Note: A story written for ‘Legal Levi’, one of the characters from the eldritch god dating sim concept created by @couldyounottalktomethanks. Written in second person with a gender neutral reader.

Running away from another one of Jezzie’s attempts to turn you into a living tarot card gave you very few options of where to go in the temple.

Levi’s study was, as always, cluttered. He had a habit of collecting things in jars, including the same tiny mushroom creatures that ran about underfoot. It was already a small room, and you had to be wary not to step on anything. Levi himself was sitting at the desk, highlighting parts of some stack of documents. You wondered if he had ever owned a chair or if he always folded up on his goat legs like a furry brown loaf.

“Hi.”

Levi jumped and swivelled his torso around, blinking glassy silver eyes at you before putting his pen down. He stood up and turned around fully, gaze never leaving yours.

“Hello.”

Your pulse was still racing a little after running from Jez. Levi’s eyes narrowed a little.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Almost died again.” You brushed yourself off, taking another step closer. Levi stepped back, hooves clicking, large hands woven together at his stomach.

“And you’re alright?” He asked. You looked down, taking note of the fact that he had upheld the distance between you, but gave him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Not a scratch.” Levi didn’t usually worry over you. You’d been in his company a few times since entering this messed up temple, but this was the first time he had ever openly done so. It was almost sweet.

Levi’s fingers brushed over your cheek and you tensed up out of surprise. He pulled his hand away immediately – still hovering in the air close by – and set his mouth in a firm line.

“No…not a one.” He confirmed. He took another step back and straightened, and the loss of contact made you feel more guilty than disappointed.

“Sorry. I just didn’t know you were going to do that.” You moved forward again, to the point where he couldn’t retreat any further without hitting the desk, “It’s okay if you want to check on me.” Levi stared at you, the eyeglasses doing wonders for his stony expression, before clearing his throat.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright, so I didn’t have to, call anyone for help.” His volume lowered the longer he was talking. You caught the sight of his tail wagging for a split-second, and you smiled wide.

“Are you feeling okay?” You hoped that he was, but you also hoped that his tail meant what you thought it did. Levi shifted and cleared his throat.

“I’m completely fine.” He turned to collect the papers on his desk back into one neat pile. You nodded in understanding but kept smiling, albeit smaller and a little knowing. You joined Levi at the desk as a little mushroom waddled off at full speed with his pen.

“What are you working on?” You asked, folding your hands together like Levi had.

“Oh it’s a, case regarding whether daylight savings and weather events interfered with a deal that had until sundown to be completed.” Levi patted the paper and curled his fingers into a loose fist, no longer looking at you, “Whatever you need just put it on the pile and I’ll give it a look when I can.” He started to turn away from you, apparently prepared for the conversation to be over. You chuckled and touched his arm.

“I don’t have a lawsuit or anything.”

Levi paused, turning back to you.

“You don’t?”

“No!” You removed your arm but smiled at him, “I don’t need a contract to want to spend time with you.”

Levi stared again. His eyes, usually thin and stern, were wide and his jaw slack. He was usually so collected, but right now it looked like he wasn’t sure what to feel. Your breath caught in your throat at such an expression.

“Oh.” Levi said, and there was a long pause before he smiled, “Thank you.” It was small in size, but giant compared to his usual.

“You’re welcome.” You managed, resisting the urge to clutch your chest. Someone caring about him outside of a professional setting was enough to make him happy.

Levi tilted his head and held his hands together again as he made a three point turn, seemingly shifting in place again.

“I’m not particularly busy at the moment, so if you’d like to stay, then I would be alright with that.” He said. He was watching you intently.

“Stay in here with you?” You questioned. Levi shrugged. He seemed to hesitate, even though he wasn’t the one who was meant to answer. It didn’t make much of a difference to your response.

“I’d love to.”

Another tail wag. Levi stepped to the side to make room for you, then took a seat himself. You accepted the silent invitation and nestled up next to him. The brown fur was a little coarse, but not too unpleasant.

“You really need some affection, huh?” You teased. Levi frowned.

“Nonsense. It’s important to take breaks while you’re working.” He didn’t look at you as he said it, grabbing a book from the shelf behind him, but you decided not to push. Even if you didn’t really believe him.

“If you say so.”

Levi didn’t respond to that, flicking open the book to a dog-eared page. You settled back against his side. The silence felt a little awkward at first, what with Levi not saying a word to you as he read, but it wasn’t uncomfortable enough for you to want to leave. After being told to stay, it was unlikely that Levi had wanted the opposite. As a matter of fact, it felt like he was growing more comfortable the longer he could feel your weight against him.

Levi had one arm lowered to support the book he was reading. You looked at the arm for a moment, then reached out to hold it. Levi tensed, but almost immediately settled, making no move to stop you. You got a little more daring and looped your arm around his entirely, snuggling up to it instead. You looked up, gauging Levi’s reaction, and to your surprise his cheeks seemed to have darkened.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Levi muttered. You smiled and rested against his arm. You weren’t at all interested in whatever he was reading.

You’d met a lot of weird people here. ‘People’ was a very loose term, considering none of them were human. But even if Levi did frequently argue with Jezzie and Ariana, he had never tried to kill you. He seemed to have his moments of being sweet and nice, and during those moments, you genuinely liked him.

The book snapped closed, and you blinked and looked up to see Levi watching you again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You look happy.”

“I am happy. And comfy.” You pressed against his sweater a little more. Levi smiled again, but then it shrank to a tiny frown. He scrambled to a stand without warning, almost dropping you in the process.

“What happened?” You stood up as Levi rummaged through his collected bits and bobs. A mushroom squeezed between two empty jars and waved both arms, pointing upwards. Levi patted its cap approvingly and hopped up onto his hind legs.

“What are you doing??” He seemed like he was in a hurry, whatever he was looking for, and you watched with confusion.

“One second.” Levi had enough height now to barely reach one of the topmost shelves, rolling an open jar into his large hands. He was careful – you could now hear the jar had water sloshing around inside of it – and shielded the top while he dropped back onto all fours.

You finally realised what he was doing when you saw the array of flowers contained in the jar like a vase. Some of them seemed on their way out, but Levi examined the best of the bunch before plucking his choice. A yellow wildflower, completely healthy, and he held it towards you.

“Here. Thank you for spending time with me, dear.”

You accepted the gift, holding the flower delicately between your fingers.

“Aww. Thank you.” You couldn’t tell if colour had appeared on your own face, but a faint tinge betrayed Levi’s otherwise level expression.

“You’re welcome.” If his hands hadn’t been wrapped around the jar, you might have felt tempted to hold them. But you were just as happy holding onto the flower he had picked for you.

Levi’s grip fidgeted, and he stepped away to return the jar of flowers.

“I didn’t know you collected living things too. Except, you know, those guys.” You pointed to the handful of mushroom guys that had been placed in ‘time-out’ jars. Most of the mushrooms had once been human beings, so not all of them were okay with spending day after day walking around a fae creature’s study.

“I usually collect things that I like.” Levi explained. He walked back towards you, and held his hand towards the flower still in yours.

“You deserve something beautiful.”

That wide smile returned to your face, and you took Levi’s extended hand before it could disappear.

��Thank you.” You said again. You saw Levi’s rare smile for the third time, and he slipped his hand from yours to hold it near his chest.

“Well, I, um.” He backed away to the desk again, “If you don’t need anything else, you can let yourself out whenever you’d like.” Apparently his brief show of vulnerability had ended, and he was retreating back to the safety of a cold outer shell.

“Levi.” The change was sudden, but you could understand it, and the gift he had given to you confirmed that it wasn’t from a place of dislike, “Can I come back later?”

Levi blinked and turned back around to his desk, taking his previous seat.

“Would you like to?”

“Yes.” You insisted. Levi paused, remaining still, but nodded.

“If I am not too focused on working then I suppose you could come back.”

You hummed, amused but agreeing to his terms.

“I’ll see you later then.” You started to turn, watching Levi as you did so. He didn’t move or answer you. You looked away and left through the door of the study. You kept the flower tucked safely in hand as you left the creature that had given it to you to his work.

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Promise Me (Reprise)

Chapter 64 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3. 

In which the crew head to the Darvaraad and beyond. Also known as the most epic and heart-pounding scramble in any game I’ve ever played, which I love/hate with every fiber of my heart. 

I made a Spotify playlist for this chapter for those who like listening to music while they read; all songs from the Trespasser OST. 

~9500 words; only an excerpt here. Read the whole chapter on AO3.  

*************************

Sera grimaced as she stepped through the eluvian. “Feels fuzzy here. That’s weird. Trees are nice, though.”

Toby whined and tucked his tail between his legs, and Cassandra frowned at Sera. “It certainly does not feel fuzzy here. It feels very strange. Why is it difficult to breathe? And are you talking about those dead trees?”

Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Dead? They’re not dead! Covered in pretty blooms, more like.” She gave Cassandra a sympathetic look. “I think your hat’s making your brain a bit wibbly.”

Hawke looked up from where she was rubbing Toby’s jowls. “I’m sorry to break this to you, Sera, but only you and Fenris can see those flowers.”

“What!” Sera exclaimed. “Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s true,” Rainier told her. “Only elves can see the flowers on those trees.”

Sera’s face went blank. Then she trotted up to Fenris and tugged his sleeve. “I don’t like it here.”

“Nor do I,” he agreed. “We will be out soon.” He led them to the darkened eluvian and looked at Dorian. “You have the keystone?”

“One shiny magic-soaked gem at your service,” Dorian said. He pulled the cloth-covered keystone from his pocket and turned to Bull. “Amatus, do you want to do the honours?”

Bull shrugged. “Sure, why not.” He waited until Dorian touched the keystone to the mirror, then spoke in Qunlat: “Maraas nehraa.”

The eluvian’s surface lit up with a mercurial swirl of purples and pinks and blues. Fenris took a step toward it, but Bull held up a hand. “I’ll go first, boss. If anyone’s guarding the other side, another horned guy coming through will give them pause for a second.”

“Good thinking,” Fenris said. He gestured to the eluvian. “Go on; we will follow.”

Bull disappeared through the eluvian. Fenris followed a moment later to find Bull already embroiled in a battle with three qunari. 

Fenris lit his lyrium marks, then phased behind the nearest javelineer and tore out her heart. Four more qunari were running over to engage, but the rest of Fenris’s companions were stepping through the eluvian one by one, and within a couple of minutes, the qunari were dead and bleeding on the ground.

And Fenris’s hand was frothing with unstable magic. 

“Get back,” he barked at his companions. He took three hasty steps away from them and shoved his focus through the flickering mark.

It exploded with a sickening flare of light. A wave of pain tore its way up to his shoulder, but the pain was blessedly brief before settling back into its usual low-level burn. 

He sighed and flexed his green-stained fingers before looking up. Dorian, Varric, Bull and Rainier simply looked resigned, but Cassandra and Sera looked horrified. 

“Maker,” Cassandra breathed. “Is that what has been happening–?”

Hawke pushed past them and strode over to Fenris. “Come on, let’s go, no time to waste,” she sing-songed. “Qunari to tear apart, Viddasalas to punch in the face – we’ve got a very packed schedule ahead.” She looped her hand through Fenris’s elbow and pulled him toward a long stone bridge that led to the main fortress of the Darvaarad.

“Hang on a minute,” Dorian said as he trotted along beside them. “Why didn’t you want us near the mark when you set it off? Is it not casting barriers anymore?”

“It was casting barriers?” Cassandra said in surprise. 

“For a time, yes,” Fenris said. “But I’m not convinced it will do that anymore. It feels volatile – more so than a few hours ago.” He gave Dorian a frank look. “I’m afraid it will injure you rather than protecting you.”

“Kaffas,” Dorian said glumly. “Just tell us when to duck, then.”

They scurried along the length of the bridge, and Fenris quickly scoped out their surroundings as best he could despite the darkness of night. The fortress ahead was tall and imposing, with a guardhouse in front and a tall stone tower to the left. A few large stone sculptures of qunari warriors decorated the otherwise austere surroundings, and as they neared the end of the bridge, Fenris silently counted the guards that he could see.

Rainier and Bull had apparently been doing the same; as they all hunkered down in the shelter of the bridge’s stone wall, Rainier murmured to them. “Three guards at the stone tower, and I think I spotted one in the guardhouse.” 

“Two in the guardhouse,” Bull corrected. “And four more by the entrance to the keep, so that’s nine in total. We should take them out one at a time, fast, or we’ll have a mess on our hands.” 

“Why one a time?” Hawke asked. “Let’s just plow right in and get this done. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t mind a little mess.” 

Despite her lighthearted words, her fingers were tapping on her knees, and Fenris knew why she was impatient; she wanted to push forward in the hopes that Solas or Fen’Harel or whoever it was would remove his disintegrating mark. 

He lowered his voice. “We can’t risk attracting unwanted attention. We have no way of knowing how many qunari are inside.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. Sneaking it is. Who do you want where?”

Fenris looked at his companions. “Bull, Cole, Varric and Sera: you go ahead and take out as many as you can. Cassandra and I will assist if they detect you.” He looked at Hawke and Dorian. “Barriers only for now. No offensive magic unless there’s no other way. It will be too obvious.” He scratched Toby’s ears. “You stay here with me, my friend,” he murmured. “A mabari will be far too noticeable.”  

Toby wagged his tail as the others moved into their positions. Bull and the rogues spread out while Cassandra, Fenris, Hawke and Dorian hid by some bushes near the guardhouse. Fortunately – and somewhat to Fenris’s surprise – the plan worked out perfectly: they took down all nine guards without raising an alarm. 

They reconvened at the main doors to the keep. Varric was the last to join them as he returned from the tower; he was holding a letter in his hand, and his face was surprisingly grim. 

He handed the letter to Bull. “Probably something important in here,” he said. “I found it next to some red lyrium.”

“Red lyrium?” Hawke exclaimed. “How the fuck did the qunari get their hands on red lyrium?”

Bull sighed. “Could have been from a smuggling operation. Contraband Venatori stock that the Viddasala kept for her own purposes.”

Dorian folded his arms. “So we’re not just expecting a lyrium-powered saarebas, but a red-lyrium-powered saarebas? Well, that’s wonderful news.” He raised an eyebrow at Fenris. “I do so love coming on these journeys with you. They do so much to restore my health and my sense of wellbeing.”

“I’m pleased to be of help,” Fenris said dryly. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Bull, who was frowning as he read the letter. “What’s wrong? What does the letter say?”

Bull scratched his ear. “It’s from a saarebas to a viddathari who was having trouble getting used to the Qun. But…” He shook his head. “I don’t know magic, but this saarebas sounds like a red Templar at the end. Stuff about ‘the song liquid’... ‘it will be hard to find the wisdom in the noise. The noise is an illusion like the darkness, but the walls are real.’”

Cassandra frowned. “He was driven mad, then. A dangerous mage powered by red lyrium.”

Rainier shrugged philosophically. “At least we know ahead of time so we can prepare ourselves.” 

This was little comfort to Fenris. Fighting a foe amplified by red lyrium usually meant Hawke using her light-cage to trap them while Fenris weakened them with sympathetic magic from his lyrium marks, but Fenris didn’t want her using her light-cage spell. Furthermore, they had never fought a mage powered with red lyrium before. Red lyrium warriors were one thing; a red lyrium mage, on the other hand… They had never fought a red lyrium mage before.

He took a deep breath to quash his anxiety and ushered his companions into hiding on each side of the double doors into the keep. Bull pushed open one door and stepped inside, and a couple of minutes later, he poked his head out again. 

“Clear for this first corridor,” he said. “But I hear some kind of mechanical clanking further in. Not sure what it is, though.”

Fenris nodded and ushered the others inside. They padded quietly through the empty halls – suspiciously empty halls that made his skin crawl – and it wasn’t long before they came upon a storeroom filled from floor to ceiling with a multitude of pristinely labelled books and artifacts.

“Andraste’s frilly underthings,” Dorian said in wonder. “Look at all of this. What an incredible collection.”

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Incredible’s one word. ‘Bunch of weird’ is another.”

“Actually, that’s three words,” Dorian said primly, and Sera stuck her tongue out at him. 

Rainier stepped into the room and ran his fingers reverently over a large animal skull. “This is a griffon’s skull,” he said. He looked at the others with wide eyes. “The last griffons died in the Grey Wardens’ care. How did the qunari get their hands on this?”

Cole tilted his head as he studied an uprooted astrarium. “There’s no pain,” he said. “Just lots of… ideas?” He blinked at Fenris. “I’m not the right kind of spirit for this.”

Fenris slowly shook his head, nonplussed by the overwhelming range of objects in this room. He looked at Bull. “They are collecting this for study?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Then they’ll destroy it. Or they’re supposed to, at least. But the Viddasala was using lyrium instead of destroying it, so who knows what she has in mind.” His tone was neutral, but his one good eye was wide as he looked around the room. 

Hawke snapped her fingers. “This must be how they got into the eluvians in the first place! Look at what they’ve got here: rare artifacts, enchanted jewelry, books – Maker’s balls, they have a lot of books.”

“No kidding,” Varric said. “The Arishok sacked Kirkwall over just one book, and here they’ve got hundreds.”

Hawke nodded slowly. “It’s knowledge,” she said. “Knowledge and power: the things Morrigan said you need to open eluvians.” She shrugged and patted Toby’s head. “That’s what they’ve been storing here. This is how they got the eluvians to work.”

Bull grunted. “Hopefully they don’t have any more ancient magic crap to throw at us.” He jerked his thumb at an enormous skull in the back corner of the room. “That dragon skull would make a wicked armchair, though. Maybe we could take it back to Skyhold after this?”

“Don’t you dare,” Dorian warned. “It will spoil Hawke’s decor theme.”

Varric looked at him in surprise. “What decor theme? She doesn’t have a theme.”

“Of course I have a theme!” Hawke said. “My theme is ‘things I like and want to show off in Skyhold’.”

“Uh-huh,” Varric said flatly. “You sure it’s not ‘things that give an impression of total chaos when visiting nobles come to the castle’?”

Rainier nodded. “It really does look like chaos. It’s, er, nauseating, actually.”

“Exactly!” she said. “It’s strategic, you see? They come into the Great Hall and think they’re getting total madness. Then they meet the Inquisitor and realize they’re getting Thedas’s smartest elf instead.” She gestured at Fenris with a flourish. “It throws them off. Puts them on their toes. Needless to say, Leliana approves of my decor.”

“Josephine doesn’t,” Dorian said slyly.

Hawke gasped dramatically. “Did she tell you that? That little gossip! She told me she loved what I did with the Great Hall!”

Cassandra tsked. “Perhaps we should move along. The qunari will have defenses in place. We must not stumble into… into anything blindly.” 

Fenris frowned at her; something on one of the shelves seemed to have captured her attention. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “What do you see?”

“It’s…” She pointed at a book. “That’s a copy of Swords and Shields.”

“What?” Hawke exclaimed. 

Varric snorted a laugh. “You’re kidding.” He wandered over to Cassandra, who was now flipping through the book.

“It’s barely used,” she said. “The spine is not cracked.” She gave Varric a wry smirk. “It does not seem that they considered it to be a source of much knowledge.”

Hawke chuckled. “Oh please, we all know what you’re thinking. You want to take that copy home, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” Cassandra said. “Why would you think that? I have a copy already.”

Her cheeks were turning pink. Varric and Fenris exchanged looks of alarm, and Varric tried to silently indicate to Hawke that she should stop talking, but it was too late. 

Hawke raised her eyebrows. “Because your copy is falling apart from overuse, of course!”

Cassandra’s face turned bright red. “I beg your pardon?”

Bull grinned salaciously. “Overuse, huh? Go on, tell us more.”

“Yeah, go on!” Sera cheered. “Details, details!”

Cole opened his mouth, and Varric held up a warning finger. “Don’t do it, kid.”

Cassandra glowered at them all. “I’m not – how dare–” She whipped around and pinned Cole with a glare. “Have you been spying again?”

“Oh Maker’s balls,” Hawke blurted. “No no, it’s not Cole, it’s – that letter you sent to Kirkwall before the Exalted Council! Your scribe mentioned…” She finally made eye contact with Varric, then clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh shit, that was supposed to be a secret. Never mind. Um… Look at that vase over there. Isn’t that, er, interesting?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “That scribe! That cheeky little – argh!” She buried her face in her hands. 

Bull chuckled. “Come now, Seeker, nothing embarrassing about it. It’s perfectly natural.”

Dorian stroked his mustache. “A bit strange that you’re personal friends with the writer of your, er, overused material, though.”

Cassandra shot him a scathing look, but Hawke was the one to reply. “How is that strange? I regularly tell Varric which of his chapters get me off.”

Varric tugged his ear while the others scoffed and chuckled, and Fenris shook his head. “Hawke…”

She blithely went on. “My favourites are the ones where there’s fingertip action.”

“Fingertip action?” Sera exclaimed.

“Yes!” Hawke said. “You know, ‘he traced his fingertips slowly over her petal-soft shoulder…’” She sighed wistfully. “So titillating. And he does it in every smut chapter.”

Sera cackled. “What? That’s tame! That gets you going?”

“Yes, because I know where he’s going with it next,” she said with a lascivious wink. “What about you, Cassandra? What are your favourite smutty bits?”

“I have no opinion on the matter,” Cassandra said haughtily, but she was smiling very slightly now.

Bull smirked at Hawke. “That’s definitely not what I thought of when you said fingertip action.” He looked at Dorian. “Did you?”

Dorian casually brushed off of his sleeve. “I have no opinion on the matter.”

Then Rainier piped up. “I think the biggest question is why Varric writes that titillating fingertip action in the first place.”

Hawke snapped her fingers. “An excellent point!” she said. She batted her eyelashes at Varric. “Are you looking for someone to trail their fingertips over that manly chest of yours?”

Varric tucked his hands in his pockets. “I have no opinion on the matter.”

Despite the growing pain in his arm, Fenris chuckled. Hawke grinned at him, then she started to laugh. Then Varric was laughing, and Rainier and Bull as well, and… 

And all of a sudden, all of them were laughing. All of them except for Cole, who was blinking in a clueless sort of way while he patted Toby’s head, and for some unfathomable reason, that just made the situation even funnier. 

Hawke wrapped her arm around Fenris’s waist as she laughed, and for a bittersweet moment, he admired the brilliance of her grin and the sounds of his friends’ unrestrained mirth. But the bitterness soon overtook the sweet when a lightning-sharp pulse of pain began to stab through his palm. 

He abruptly stepped away from Hawke and left the storeroom. When he was a safe ten paces away, he allowed the accumulated magic in his hand to burst. 

The accompanying agony shot through his arm to up his shoulder, and he clenched his jaw so as not to cry out. When the pain and magic had waned and the blood was no longer pulsing in his ears, he turned back to face the storeroom. 

They were all staring at him with varying degrees of worry and sadness and sympathy. All except for Hawke, whose face was white with fear. 

She exited the storeroom and looked at Bull. “Come on, then. Mechanical clanking noises, you said?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bull said. He gave Fenris a guarded glance as he stepped past them, and they followed him down the hallway in a somber silence.

Read the rest on AO3. 

[katedrakeohd]

A Stolen Moment - Part 3

A The Royal Masquerade Fanfiction

Part One / Part Two

...................

Cast of Characters: (MC) Julia Aster, Kayden Vescovi, Teapot the guard, various marketplace folk.

Rated: PG

.................

Part Three : The Mariner and the Maiden

I nudge my horse to follow Kaydan as he pulls away from the line of carriages. After turning a bend in the road the sound of the carriage wheels and trotting horses fades and as I look over at Kaydan he seems to have relaxed a little.

"A change of scenery is nice." I venture, still feeling uncertain about where Kaydan is leading me.

When he looks over at me his usual stoic, unreadable expression has fallen away, and he gives me a happy smile that lights up his whole face.

"This kind of change is welcome. It feels like a lifetime since I've explored town as a free man without responsibilities."

I laugh, "You're still responsible for me, and to get us back before we're missed."

He nods, "Be that as it may, for now I don't want us to be Crown Shield or Lady Aster. Let's escape from that life and choose to be other people, if only for a short time."

As the bustling marketplace on the edge of town comes into view I feel a sense of wonder at the crowd of people and the brightly colored awnings.

"Who shall we be then?" I ask, as I look at the various people in the market for inspiration.

Kaydan looks at me for a long moment and then leads us toward a hotel next to the market. He dismounts his horse and ties it to a hitching post and then secures my horse before offering his help to get me down.

The slippery fabric of my dress causes me to slide sideways out of the saddle too quickly and with a yelp of surprise I find myself falling down on top of him. Somehow he manages to catch me in his arms, although he has to shuffle his feet a bit to not end up on the ground himself.

As he holds me tightly against his chest I can feel him start to laugh. "If I remember correctly this is the second time you've fallen into my arms."

Trying to catch my breath from the shock of falling I suddenly realize how close my lips are to his. I touch his cheek and smile, dropping my voice to a whisper, "Thankyou Kaydan, now perhaps you should put me down. People are staring."

I can feel his body stiffen momentarily, as he blushes and gently puts me down on my feet.

Fixing my skirt and then brushing my hair back over my shoulder, I try to push aside how intimate it had felt to be held in his arms so tightly. "So what were we talking about?"

Kaydan is busy putting his riding gloves in his saddle bag, and I notice he's having trouble meeting my eyes. He's so cute when he gets all flustered. Clearing his throat he straightens up and takes a quick glance around the market.

"We were going to choose new identities so we could escape court for a moment."

"Oh that's right, such a clever idea. You choose for me and then I'll choose for you." I say.

He looks at me for a few seconds, and I can only guess at what he's thinking. Finally he starts walking toward the lineup of shopping stalls and I hurry to catch up.

"I'd choose an Artist or Painter for you. As a scribe you're no stranger to holding a quill and making intricate designs on paper. I can easily imagine you as a Great Master's apprentice walking around the market looking for inspiration."

I quirk an eyebrow, "That's oddly specific, you think I'd be a good painter?"

"You're highly intelligent and are used to working independently just as a painter would. I've seen your creativity in action as you easily adapt to any situation, just like a painter might improvise with colour to make something uniquely their own creation."

I can't help but smile at his unexpected compliments. "Why thankyou kindly, I accept. Just like a painter, as a scribe I was no stranger to having my fingers stained by my medium. So you've chosen well."

He nods, offering me his arm, I smile as I tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow. As we stroll toward the market vendors together he asks, "So what's my story then? Julia the artist. Paint me a picture."

"Well let me see. You're a mariner on leave and looking for some fun before you have to go back to sea. And while you're ashore you meet a beautiful young painter in search of her next masterpiece."

"A mariner you say?"

"Yes, a mariner and a poet. Your fellow shipmates are so jealous of your prowess with words, and demand that you tell them stories every night as they lay in their bunks."

Kaydan laughs, "I'm hardly a storyteller, definitely not a poet."

I smile and give his arm a squeeze, "Oh I don't know about that. I've seen you with your fellow guardsmen, and there's no doubt they're a colorful bunch. I bet you could tell me a story about each of them."

Kaydan chuckles, blushing a bit as he lowers his voice. "None fit for a Lady's ears I'm afraid."

"I don't know Kaydan, what would you tell them about today? Is your company not worthy of inspiring a few words?"

He looks at me as if his story is written all over my face, and as his eyes linger on me I see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "I say that story hasn't been written yet. And if I were to put quill to paper I would surely keep this story for myself."

Between the kaleidoscope of sights and sounds of the market and the pleasure of having Kaydan at my side I feel positively giddy with excitement. But I can't resist the urge to take my 'Mariner' off of guard duty.

"Well this muse needs to stretch her legs a little. There's plenty of market to see so let's split up, and explore. Come find me later and we'll see where our story goes."

"Are you ok wandering the market alone? You know this goes against every bit of my training as a guard." He warns, looking concerned.

"Aha, well you're not a guard at the moment. You're a mariner out looking for treasures. Besides like you said I'm independent, capable and smart. And in this dress I stand out like a sail on the horizon anyway. I'm not going to run away, just keep an eye on me and I'll keep an eye out for you."

With a sigh Kaydan steps away from me, "Ok fine, we'll explore the market separately. But only for a little while."

"I promise if anything bad happens I'll scream and make a fuss, so that you can come running and be my knight in leather armor."

While Kaydan reluctantly blends into the crowd of people. I choose a parallel path of market vendors and check out the wares. Under an awning woven with a colorful design, I approach a lady wearing flowing robes. She's standing behind a display of delicate glass bottles. Some have wooden or glass stoppers and others are open to be smelled or sampled. From the mixed spicy, floral and musky aromas I can tell she's selling perfumes.

She smiles at me, "Good morrow to you M'lady, would you care to sample a new scent today?"

"Yes, that would be lovely."

"Something sweet and floral or something musky with a hint of spice?"

Being around Kaydan I'm reminded of the strong scent of musk and leather. Which works nicely on him. My own toiletries table always has rosewater and citrusy scents for me to wear thanks to my sister Annalise. Today I want something different.

"Do you have anything spicy and floral? I'm trying to draw someone's attention."

The lady smiles and picks up an empty bottle, she adds a few drops from various other bottles and then a clear liquid to dilute them. After placing the stopper she gives it a little shake and then hands me the dampened cap to sniff.

"Tell me what you think of this." She says with a grin.

Bringing the cap to my nose I'm assaulted by a heady dizzying scent of flowers and some kind of unknown spice. It makes me cough at first, but then as I catch a whiff on the breeze I inhale deeply and the scent mellows to something more pleasant.

"I like it. I'll take the whole bottle."

I hand her the cap and she secures it to the bottle and then I give her some coins from my purse. She wraps the bottle in a scrap of cloth and then hands it to me. As other people gather around me to look at her perfumes, I nod my thanks and move on.

Undoing the cap I dab some of the perfume on my neck and into my hair at the nape. I'm hoping Kaydan notices it, but I feel a knot in my stomach at the thought of Hector smelling it too. I have no interest in being matched with another strange suitor, but my duty to the Crown requires it. I tuck the bottle away in my pocket, and move along the row.

Looking across through the crowd I search for Kaydan. A catch sight of a pair of broad shoulders and a head of dark hair but he's turned away from me and I'm not sure if it's him.

I quickly pass by a group of vendors hocking various meats and roasted animals on sticks that make my stomach turn in unhappy ways. And then I come across a kindly middle aged woman sitting quietly and knitting behind her display of various handmade objects of leather and wood.

I still have a few coins left and I want to buy something for Kaydan. The objects vary from hand carved wooden chess sets, boxes of gambling dice, various leather belts and pieces of braided jewelry and a collection of small leather bound books.

I'm hoping any of these things might bring him some enjoyment, whether he played games with his fellow guards or needed replacement leather pieces for whatever. But as a lover of books myself it's those that catch my eye. I run my finger along the spine of a brown book with an embossed leather cover.

The lady smiles at me, and sets her needlework aside. "Good day to you Ma'am is there something that catches your interest?"

I smile as I pick up the book and hold it out to her, "Yes, what can you tell me about these books?"

"They're books rescued from the private library of a nobleman who had no heirs to pass them down to. The new Duke and Duchess of Valtoria had no use for them when they took over the manor and decided to renovate."

Looking down at the book in my hand, and at all the other books. I can't believe my good fortune at finding these lost treasures, but alas I only have enough coins for one. Opening the book I see it's a handwritten journal containing snippets of poetry. Apart from the first handful of pages the rest are blank.

When I had given Kaydan the book from my sister's collection, he had admitted to not owning any. With this journal he would have two, and hopefully he'll be inspired to write down his thoughts when he has time alone. I don't know how often he gets the chance to read, especially amidst the company of his fellow guards. But I want him to have something else to remember me by once my marriage to Hector takes me away from him. Thinking about Hector makes me feel uncomfortable, but I shake it off and offer to pay for the journal.

The lady smiles, holding up her hand and shaking her head. "You were kind enough to show interest in a piece of someone who was dear to me, please just take it and give it a loving home."

"Are you sure? I can offer a few coins for your trouble."

"I'm sure, pass it along to someone you love so that his words aren't forgotten."

I smile and shake the hand of the woman after she wraps the book up for me. "Thankyou so much."

With a nod she goes back to her chair and resumes her knitting.

Tucking the wrapped book under my arm I continue to the end of the market and find myself in the middle of the town square. A small crowd has gathered to listen to a trio of stringed musicians. Their lively tune has many people clapping hands or tapping their feet. A few brave souls have even paired up to dance.

I'm thoroughly engrossed in the entertainment and don't hear Kaydan approach me from behind. When he places his hand gently on my arm I gasp and stumble back into him. "Kaydan! You frightened me."

He leans down and whispers in my ear, "That's the fun part, because catching you off guard means you end up in my arms."

I grin and nudge him on the arm as he steps in next to be, "Is this the mariner talking? Be careful there Kaydan, lest your verbal innuendo earn you the same nefarious reputation as your brother Cyrus."

"Half-.."

"Sorry, half-brother."

Kaydan shakes his head looking slightly offended, "I would have to crawl on my belly in the muck in order to stoop low enough to reach his level of depravity."

"Relax I'm only playing with you. I know you're a much more honorable man than Cyrus could ever hope to be."

Continue on to the next

.....

@gardeningourmet @samihatuli @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @mfackenthal @bobasheebaby @pedudley @be-still-my-aching-heart @krishu213 @ibldw-main @chaotichuman0090 @addictedtodrakefanfic

[imagineredwood]

***Damn near 4 AM over here but it’s up 😂***

Warnings: None

Pairing: Camila x EZ

Word count: 3.7K

Camila huffed and ran the back of her hand over her forehead, brushing away the hair and sweat that was there, a slight ache in her lower back as she stood. She smiled proudly down at her garden, dirty hands resting by her side. Chucks of soil tumbled off her fingers as she continued to look over the garden, everything now finally planted and situated after three days. She wasn’t nearly done with her garden, still so much to be grown, but planting the seeds and small trees of what she ate were her main goal. The size of the backyard had spoken to her as soon as she had seen it and immediately, she’d wanted to get started as soon as possible with growing her own produce. As a child, her Abuela always grown her own vegetables and fruits amongst other plants, and Camila had always been right there alongside her, helping her with the process. Sure, it was bonding time between the two of them, but to Camila, it was much more than that. Gardening with Abuela Magdalena taught her patience, taught her how showering something in love could make it grow and bloom, just like people. Her Abuela had always said that love, dedication, and support could heal even the most withered flower and while it took a little more work, it could do the same for a human. 

That was where Camila’s loving nature came from. She treated everyone she met with the same gentleness and warmth as she had treated the sunflowers in her Abuela’s garden. She could be a little rough around the edges sometimes, with an over forgiving attitude that had led to her kindness being taken advantage of more times than she would like to count, and a rage that exploded when she’d finally had enough. She was complicated and layered, much like the onions she used to fish out of the damp soil but she tried her best to be the best that she could be and sitting in a garden with the fresh scent of rosemary and rainwater always helped her reflect so she could do that. 

Dusting her hands off and giving herself a nod of approval, she ran a dirt-covered finger over the smooth green skin of the tiny tomato on the tree she had just planted and made her way back inside of the house for a shower before heading into town. 

“There isn’t all that much experience needed, we just like people who are friendly, knowledgeable about different genres especially the newer ones. It’s not a library, though we do try to provide some similar services when needed. An old man like me isn’t very computer or tech savvy so it’s good to have young folks like yourself here who can help them out. Plus, you say you enjoy kids. You meet all of those so it seems to me that you’ll be a great fit.” 

Camila smiled as the older gentleman spoke, walking with her slowly through the bookstore, after having gotten the story and history of her new workplace. It had started as your everyday run of the mill bookstore way back when Mr. Salvatore had first moved into town. It was the only bookstore in town until everything started expanding. Lately, they had started to see their patrons dwindling and Mr. Salvatore’s daughter Sandra had come up with the idea to buy the unit next to the bookstore and expand as well, adding a café and more technology into the mix. She was a tall, box blonde in her thirties with a bright and warm aura and an eye for decor. She’d said they needed to take a more modern approach, Mr. Salvatore had agreed and business had been booming ever since, now needing to hire some more employees to keep up with the demand. Camila had seen the ad for hiring in the local newspaper and decided to give it a shot. She loved to read, a good couple of boxes full to the brim with books back in the home that she had yet to buy a shelf for. The job seemed like the perfect one for her and so she’d figured she would try her luck.

Coming to stand back at the check-in and cash register desk at the front, he hobbled over behind the counter and tucked his thumbs into his worn leather suspenders, smiling as he looked at her.

“So, when can you start?” 

Camila laughed softly and shrugged. 

“Whenever you need me to, really. It’s not like I have any plans. I’d like to get back to work. I can start tomorrow if you’d like.”

At that, the man smiled again, holding his right hand out for her to shake. 

“Well then young lady, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” 

Camila took his wrinkled hand in her own and shook it gently once before he placed his other atop hers, holding them in his. 

“It’ll be good to have a new, nice face around here.”  

Turning, he reached over and picked up a small white binder that all the new employees got with a list of what aisles held what genres, a current calendar with the next three months of events and other tips to make memorization of the bookstore easier. She took the binder from his hands, looking through it quickly before tossing him one last smile. 

“Thank you, Mr. Salvatore. I’ll meet you and Sandra here tomorrow.”

Camila hummed to herself quietly as she pulled the new books from the cardboard box and stocked them up along the cherry stained wooden shelf. Though it wasn’t overwhelmingly exciting, it was one of the most relaxing jobs she’d ever had. She’d been able to memorize most of the cheat sheet that Mr. Salvatore had given her which made things much easier when it came to both stocking and helping any customers. The environment was quiet, cozy and laid back, not to mention the place smelled of fresh baked pastries and coffee from the café that was in the front of the store. As if that wasn’t enough, Mr. Salvatore had it that all employees could have coffee and a pastry for free on their breaks and could take home from the bunch that were left over and to be thrown away at the end of the day. Both he and his daughter had been nothing but the sweetest to her and after speaking to the other employees over lunch, she found that being nice was just a part of who they were. Every employee, no matter if they’d worked there for 1 week or 5 years, could vouch for the father-daughter duo and how they were the best employers anyone could wish for. 

Camila finished stocking the new books on the ‘New Releases’ self and was in the process of pulling apart the empty box when Sandra walked up, smile as bright as ever. 

“Hey, honey. Can you do me a favor?”

Camila nodded and Sandra pulled out a folded paper from the pocket of her jeans. 

“Can you pick these books out for me when you get a chance? It doesn’t have to be now but have them done by closing time, please. Dad usually does this but he forgot today was Tuesday and he made an appointment with his cardiologist so we have to get that done. Just put the books together in a bag leave them on the shelf behind the front desk. Someone named Ezekiel will be by to pick them up later on. Don’t charge him. We have a little thing going where he just kinda rents them and brings them back when he’s done.”

Camila acknowledged her and held the list in her hand, unfolding it to look it over. 

“I just finished stocking the last of the new releases so I can do it now, make sure I don’t forget.” 

Sandra smiled and reached over to place a hand on Camila’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I’m glad you’ve joined us here. I’ve already had 3 customers tell us how helpful you’ve been. Keep up the good work kiddo.”

To Sandra, it might’ve just been her everyday employee encouragement, but Camila couldn’t help but blush and beam at the woman’s words, always having been a sucker for praise. It made her ears get hot and instilled a burst of energy as it always did and she nodded quickly. 

“Thank you, Sandra. I’ll get it done right now.” “No problem. We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Camila continued to look over the list as they went separate ways, seeing that all the books were in a variety of genres. There were books of poetry and fiction, Sci-Fi and nature, horror and spirituality. There was a mix and Camila couldn’t help but wonder who would be picking them up. She tried to picture them in her head as she went around and pulled the books. Her imagination is what had drawn her to reading as a child in the first place and by the time she had collected the books from the list, she hadn’t been able to conjure up what she expected the person would look like. It was hard to get a feel with how sporadic the books were and how none of them seemed to have anything in common or similar to the next one. 

Soon enough, she’d collected all of the books and had bagged them up, taking them up the front where Sandra had told her. She went back to the main center of the bookstore and looked around, everything seeming to have emptied out by now. She had volunteered to close up and was consequently that last employee in the store apart from the two baristas that were wiping down the espresso machines. There was one patron left in the café, a high school student no more than 16 that had been there since earlier this afternoon. He wore a grey hoodie and bags under his eyes, his hair messy and greasy and she could tell he was exhausted as his eyes continued to gaze at the laptop screen in front of him. She walked over and placed her hand down onto the tabletop, rapping her nails against it softly, getting his attention. He looked up at her and she smiled softly, pointing over at the clock. 

“It’s getting close to closing time. Just wanted to let you know so you have time to save everything and get packed up. Do you need help with anything?” 

The kid cursed quietly and shook his head in frustration. 

“Shit, sorry. I lost track of time. I’m just trying to get this presentation done for school and my brain is fried. I can’t come up with anything else and I still have 6 slides left.” 

Camila took a seat next to the kid and pointed at his screen. 

“Do you mind?” “Nah, go ahead.”

He turned the screen towards her and she looked over the PowerPoint, a slight grin coming to her face as she saw what the topic was. 

“Ya know, I may or may not have done a project myself on the Collapse of the Roman Empire when I was in high school. When is this due?”

“Two days from now. I put it off and it snuck up on me. That’s why I skipped school today. Don’t tell anyone please!” 

Camila laughed as his voice took a worried edge at the end after he had outed himself. She was about to respond when the bell dinged as the door opened. She looked over as a man walked in and went straight to the front desk, waiting patiently. She couldn’t see his face but what she could see was the leather and the patch he wore. No one had mentioned that there was an MC in town. Pointing down at the table, she turned back to the kid and leaned in. 

“I’ll tell you what. I think I still have that paper saved somewhere on my computer. I’ll bring it with me tomorrow and I’ll help you out to finish those last couple of slides. After school! Don’t skip.” 

The boy’s eyes widened some before a grin slowly made its way onto his face, nodding feverishly. 

“OK! I won’t skip, I promise. I’ll be here after school at 2.”

Camila nodded herself and pushed his backpack towards him before standing. 

“Go home. And get some good sleep.” 

She turned back towards the front desk and set into a brisk walk, not wanting to make the man wait any longer. As she came around, he locked eyes with her and gave a warm smile. Reciprocating, she faced him, hands planted flat on the countertop. 

“Hi. You must be Ezekiel?” “Yeah, that’s me.” 

Camila turned and grabbed the bag off of the shelf, holding it out for him. 

“Here you go. Everything’s in there for you.” “Thank you. Is everything ok with Mr. Salvatore?” 

Camila nodded, seeing the concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s ok. He just had a doctor’s appointment. Sandra said he forgot it was Tuesday otherwise he would’ve been here to see you.” 

Ezekiel smiled softly and looked down into the bag before looking back up into her eyes.

“Yeah, I like to read but I don’t really have room to keep a bunch of books so I just rent them from him and give them back.”

“Yeah, Sandra was telling me.” 

There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other. Just as Ezekiel opened his mouth to speak again, the student from earlier came up to the counter, butting in. 

“Hey, thanks again. I really appreciate it.” “Oh, you’re welcome…” “Ethan.” “Ethan. I’m Camila. I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you bring all your stuff and we’ll get that project finished up ok?”

The kid smiled and nodded as he situated his backpack on his shoulder. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He waved as he left and she returned it, EZ smiling to himself at the interaction as he looked back at her.

“Are you a teacher?”

Camila shook her head with a smile, watching out the window as the kid got onto his bike.  

“No, just helping out. I like kids, even the older ones. He’s got a project due and he’s having trouble wrapping it up.” 

Ezekiel nodded once more, smiling at her as he did. 

“Yeah, I remember those days. Good old procrastination.”

The two of them shared a laugh and were once again surrounded by silence. Their smiles slowly faded from their faces and yet they still stayed looking at each other for a second more before they quickly looked away, EZ looking down at his books and Camila suddenly finding the glitter in her nail polish to be very interesting. It was awkward and they both began to talk at the exact same time to break the silence. 

“Well, it was nice meeting you.” “Nice to meet you.” 

EZ shook his head as she threw hers back, both of their laughs filling the emptiness of the bookstore. Camila spoke alone this time.

“Sorry for being kinda awkward. I just moved here and it’s a lot of new people and places and new everything. Just trying to get my footing.” 

EZ nodded in agreement with her statement but also to himself. Though he wasn’t new in town, he was getting back into the swing of things after having been locked up. He was also meeting new people and seeing new places, trying to get his footing himself. A lot had changed since he’d gone to jail and he could understand where she was coming from, though he wasn’t exactly ready to admit all of that to her. She was sweet, both carefree and awkward at the same time, and he thought she was beautiful. After being inside, he was willing to admit that he was off his game and more than a little rusty when it came to women. He was sure if Angel could see him, he’d be laughing his ass off at his little brother. With everything going on in his life at the moment, finding a girl and getting into a relationship was the last thing on his mind. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards her, both physically and personally but the fewer people he brought into the mess that he had created with the DEA and the club, the better. 

Slapping his hand onto the counter softly, he pulled away shooting her another smile as he headed towards the door. 

“Well, I’ll see you around Camila. Thanks for the books.” 

With a grin and a wave, she said goodbye and watched as he walked out, putting away his bag before climbing onto his bike. She winced slightly as he started it up and the rumble engulfed the street. She looked back around the shop, the baristas having already gone home and everything situated, ready for her to lock up. She went to the front door and locked it, turning over the closed sign before heading to the back, into the breakroom to grab her things. Purse in hand, she walked to the rear of the store, going out the back door and locking that one up too. Looking down at her watch, she read the time. It was only four thirty and Felipe’s shop didn’t close until five. She’d promised that she wouldn’t make a habit of being late and she was a woman of her word. 

Unlocking her car, she climbed in and pulled out her card before tossing her purse into the passenger seat and starting up the car. She pulled out of the back lot and went around the complex, driving down the main street and parking further up the block where the carniceria was. She walked up to the door and pushed it open, smiling as she saw Felipe standing behind the counter. Walking in further and turning, she found Ezekiel sitting on one of the chairs also looking over at her.  The two of them looked at each other for a good couple of seconds, not really knowing what to say. Camila settled for trying to make a joke. 

“I swear I’m not stalking you.” 

EZ chuckled as Felipe looked between them. 

“You two know each other?”

They both shook their heads at the same time, EZ stepping in to explain.

“She just started working at the Salvatore bookstore. I bumped into her earlier. I was there to pick up some books.”

Felipe closed his eyes and nodded once in understanding before looking back at Camila with a smile which she returned as she walked up to the counter. 

“Hola Señor.” “Hola nena.” “I need 6 chicken breasts por favor.”

Felipe began to pull her meats out and continued to speak to her as EZ watched. 

“So, you’re working at the bookstore?”

“Yeah. I started today. It’s not bad. I like it. Plus it's close, good hours.” “Are you all moved in?” “Gracias a Dios, yes. I still have a couple of small boxes left to unpack but they’re full of little stuff. The house itself is all done though.” 

Now it was EZ’s turn to repeat Felipe’s question from earlier.

“Do you two know each other?” 

Camila turned to face EZ as Felipe continued to pack up her chicken, a small smile on her face. 

“Not really. I mean we’ve met before. I came here a couple of days ago to buy some meat and we started talking then.”

Camila trailed off before pointing between EZ and Felipe. 

“So, I guess it’s my turn to ask. Do you two know each other?” 

Both men shared a laugh and Camila furrowed her brows slightly, not really understanding what was so funny. 

“Yeah, you could say that.”

She looked over at Felipe and he pulled off his gloves, turning around to grab a framed picture off of the wall behind him and hand it over to her. Her eyes looked over the sweet little boy in the picture, the smile still identical, and she turned to look at EZ, who sat with one leg crossed over the other, a proud look on his face as he spoke.

“That’s my pops.” 

Camila looked back and forth between the two of them, searching their faces in awe of how she hadn’t realized before. 

“Well shit.”  

The three of them shared a laugh and she handed the photo back to Felipe, EZ coming to stand as Felipe put it back and finished packaging her chicken. He placed the bag on top of the counter and gave her the total. Felipe observed quietly as his son eyed the girl as she paid. His eyes broke away from her for a moment and then caught those of his fathers, watching him watch her. Even a grown man now, he still blushed and looked down bashfully as his father rolled his eyes but still smiled. The machine printed out her receipt and she grabbed it along with her bag, looking back up at Felipe. 

“Thank you Señor.” “You can call me Felipe.” 

Camila nodded as she turned and began heading towards the door. 

“Gracias Felipe.” 

She turned her head slightly and looked at EZ, waving with her empty hand. 

“Bye Ezekiel.” “Bye.” 

Camila walked out of the store and made her way to her car, both Reyes men watching her as she did. EZ looked back over as Felipe began disinfecting the counters and scale, walking up to the counter. 

“That’s the girl you were talking about?”

Felipe nodded, tossing the wipes into the trash as he walked out from behind the counter and towards EZ, who was still looking out the window at Camila. He returned his gaze to his father with a lazy smile as he felt his dad grab his shoulder. He expected him to tease him, poke fun at how engrossed in her he was. His smile quickly faltered though as he saw the look his father wore. 

“What’s up, pop?” 

The older man sighed deeply, tossing his head towards the back room. 

“Lock up the front and flip the sign. We gotta talk about KJ.”

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid - Chapter 8

Friends in Low Places

Words: 3,826

The next day was the livestock con that John had been planning for weeks. He and Arthur rode off into the hills to steal the flock and bring it back into town to sell as their own. 

Dutch watched his boys ride off while he smoked a cigar, and Hosea walked up to join him. “What a time we’ve had, eh Dutch?” Dutch claspsed Hosea on the shoulder, hanging on and reminiscing on their past adventures. “What a wild ride we have been through.” 

“Hopefully, my friend, our running days will soon be over. Just one more big one with good money and we are free. Then we can get our people to a safe home, like they deserve.” 

Lenny called you over to Pearson’s workstation. “YN! Teach me how to skin this rabbit, I know Arthur taught you so you oughta be good.” You laughed and rolled your sleeves up, “Thanks, Lenny. Alright. Let’s get to work. You want to know the first thing Arthur asked me when I wanted to learn how to do this?”

“What’s that?”

Acting grumpy with hunched shoulders you replied, “You sure you wanna get blood all over your dress?” Lenny bust up laughing while you impersonated the rugged man. “Damn fool didn’t see I was holding a knife five feet from him but still had the nerve to say it! Right after I shot a deer clean through the heart, too." 

Lenny laughed again while you began to teach him the Arthur Morgan way of skinning a rabbit. Every once in awhile he would ask you a question by impersonating Arthur and the two of you fell apart on the wooden table. He was a bright kid, and really nineteen was a kid, with a good heart and an infectious laugh. 

Jack came up just as the two of you were finishing and asked to pet your horse. Lenny ruffled the kids hair and left you to babysit, heading over to his tent to organize a few things. Jack grabbed your hand and dragged you to your mare.

“She’s pretty, YN! And tall. Not as tall as Uncle Arthur’s horsie, though. I wish I could have one, too.” His mind was everywhere, bouncing from place to place with no time to take a breath in between. Poor kid, four years old and stuck living the outlaw life. No wonder Abigail was so hellbent on getting out before something happened. 

He bent down and grabbed a flower to pick, his sights on dainty yellow petals with a white center when Eclipse moved too close. You swung down and grabbed Jack before she could get spooked, and you saw Dutch and Strauss walking up. 

They were deep in conversation and almost didn’t notice you. 

“Now, Herr Strauss, we are to meet Arthur and John at the saloon after. There’s talk of some big man in town and I intent to get on his good side before we show him a reason to be on his bad, so maybe you just stay quiet then?”

“But Dutch, I still have three loans that need to be collected! That money -”

Dutch interrupted him, yelling in his face, “That money is the only thing keeping us alive! Now why in the hell have you not gone to collect it?”

Her Strauss replied meekly, “I asked Arthur but he never had the time.”

Dutch ran his hand down his face and noticed you there. “YN, it’s time to learn another skill, my dear. When Arthur gets back from town, go with him to collect those debts so generously given by Herr Strauss. The two of you should get on just fine.”

You nodded and moved Jack closer to your hip, afraid the loud voices would frighten the child. Herr Strauss handed you three loan sheets which you tucked away in your satchel for later. Jack simply continued to play with the colorful flower in his hands until he held it out to the approaching Abigail as a present for simply being there. 

The tent you called home had built up a small collection of outfits, guns, and various other objects during your months at Horseshoe Creek. It was small but cozy. You even had a proper blanket now made from the skin of a cougar you hunted not too long ago. 

After you flopped down to the small bedroll, you grabbed the book you had been devouring most recently after swapping with Hosea. He had gotten you invested in a crime series and had given you the latest last night after finishing it himself, of course, and was bursting to discuss it so you promised to be quick. The sunlight was still filtering in warmly and you left the flaps of the tent open for fresh air to accompany you on your journey to another life. Precious few things brought you the pleasure like reading did. 

Later in the day, Hosea himself stuck his head in your tent. “How are you getting on, YN? Hiding from Grimshaw so you can get through more of that book?”

You jumped as the voice ripped you from the pages, but quickly laughed at how eager Hosea was for you to read. “I’m trying! Doesn’t help I can hear her scream every few minutes. But this book, Hosea...it’s so -”

The end of that sentence was never finished as Grimshaw had finally found you. “I should have known you would have something to do with this, Hosea! YN! Get that lazy Blackwater ass out here to help with the laundry."

Hosea looked sheepish at having given you away but you smiled and promised to read again later, then followed Grimshaw while she continued to chew you out. 

Sadie Adler was finally cleaned up and dressed with the other girls who were doing the laundry in the middle of camp. Buckets of sudsy water sloshed around as item after item were dunked, scrubbed, and passed to the next. You joined in after Mary-Beth and before Sadie. 

“Nice to see you out and about, Mrs. Adler! Feelin’ better?” She smiled back and her eyes were clear for the first time since you’d met her. “A bit, miss. Working to see what livin’ is about now. You fine people took me in, time to do my share. Although I ain’t choppin’ no vegetables no more with that man, about ready to chop him up too.” 

The girls chattered as the laundry eventually finished up, and everything was hung up to dry. You grabbed the last few pieces to hang on the line when a hand snaked out to grab yours. 

“You got anything special in there to show me, YN?"

Michah had found you again and hid behind the colorful array so no one could see him. 

“Jesus, Michah. You got nothin’ better to do than stalk me doin’ laundry? Leave me alone, I ain’t got nothing to entertain with you.”

He smirked and moved closer, “Oh girly, I got some entertaining you could do. Just give me a few hours.” His hand rubbed the back of yours, mocking the memory you had of Arthur comforting you and you shook him off violently. Irritation and rage began to pump from your heart and spread across your chest. 

“I don’t want anymore time with you than necessary, thank you.” He didn’t seem to mind the constant rejection, and in fact it seemed to make him pursue you more. 

“‘Thank you?’ Always so kind,” he sneered at you. “YN. One of these days you’re gonna have to learn how to be a real outlaw and toughen up.”

“Only a damn fool mistakes kindness for weakness, Mr. Bell. Strength don’t come from the lack of love or compassion in a heart,” you snapped back. 

He was unimpressed with your outburst. You were just hoping he had lost interest when he said, “You book folk are so boring. Always full of words. I prefer action. You know where to find me once you wisen up. And girl, I sure hope you do.” The clothing on the drying line parted as Michah smacked them out of his path. You rolled your eyes and picked up the empty basket to bring back to Grimshaw and prove your chores were done. 

That afternoon was when true chaos began. The sound of horses thundering into camp made everyone stand to attention as Dutch, Arthur, John, and Strauss rode in looking extremely shaken from Valentine. All of them were dishevelled and covered in dirt. Abigail rushed over as John jumped from his horse and said something to her. She nodded and left for their shared tent to begin throwing things in their tent. Dutch grabbed Hosea and moved to his tent, retelling everyone what happened. 

“Our time in Valentine has come to an untimely end! Leviticus Cornwall and his band of thugs met us outside the saloon and things did not end well for them. It’s time for us to pack up and leave this area, what with Pinkerton’s breathing down our necks and Cornwall comin’ to find us. Ms. Grimshaw, Mr. Pearson, if you please! Get this place packed up while we look for a new spot.” Everyone began to move, you rushed to your tent and began throwing everything into the few bags you had bought and rolled the bedding up to make it easier to carry. 

Hosea sat with Dutch as Arthur approached, and was none too happy about the current situation. “So, we keep heading east. Is that the plan?”

“For now.”

“And when do we stop? When we reach Paris?” Hosea exclaimed sarcastically. 

“Oh that’d be nice, and join the Commune? We stop when we find someplace sensible, shake them that’s following us and lie low.” Dutch countered. It felt like an age old argument, with Hosea thinking legit scams were the way to go, and Dutch wanting one last big score to blow the others out of the water. 

Hosea put his face into his hands, “And this is lying low? We’ve turned into a bunch of killers, I mean it.”

Dutch sat up straighter. “Sometimes, survival means having only one choice. We have to take it, or lose everything we’ve worked towards.” 

Hosea threw his hands up, fed up with not feeling safe in his own home and stormed out of Dutch’s tend. Arthur moved closer to the older man to get a better look at the map he was studying. 

“Michah told me of a place we can lie low. Dewberry Creek, he said. Maybe you and Charles can go take a look, clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in.” Dutch pointed at the spot and Arthur nodded. 

“Looks like I’ve turned into the Goddamned errand boy,” while walking away. 

Dutch stood as tall as you’ve seen him, chest puffed with pride. “You have turned into my son, you worry because I worry. We are just the same!” Before Arthur got too far, Dutch yelled again, “Arthur! And when you return you and Miss Moore have some debts to collect on behalf of Herr Strauss. We’ll see how things are when you’re back from scouting.” 

Arthur and Charles left shortly after that, not expecting to be gone more than a few hours. While they were out riding free, Ms. Grimshaw saw that every single one of the girls was sweating away, cleaning and packing and washing and sorting. All these damn men and not a single one could pack the knives away correctly. 

Abigail and John were struggling to get everything done with Jack running around, so you offered after your tent was packed to take care of him. The fighting didn’t stop, but at least the kid was out of the way and not there to see it. 

Jack took your hand and wanted to go see the river one last time. You wondered if he really understood why you were moving so constantly, and the past few months you had two camps. To a four year old that’s a lot of life changes. 

He found a blue flower and tried to braid it into your hair, making you both giggle. It matched the shirt that Mary-Beth finally got around to make for you. A light blue that played with your dark features beautifully, and she even made some lace designs to fancy it up. You loved that shirt and were ecstatic when she gave it to you a week ago. 

“I want a flower too, YN,” Jack whined when you sat down for a moment. “Of course, Jack, what color you reckon?” He contemplated it, then decided on yellow. The two of you set off to wander the small field for a yellow flower. 

“Here! Help me put it in my hair.” Jack loved flowers in hair and his own was no exception. This fascination with flowers was interesting to you, but when you asked he only shrugged and said something about Abigail loving them too. 

A few hours later, Charles came riding down the slope. “YN! Arthur is waiting for you back at camp, or what’s left of it. Want me to give you two a ride up?” 

Jack shook his head, so the two of you walked next to Tamia while Charles chatted about the new campsite he had found. 

“The site Michah told us about already had people there, a dried up old creek bed. Would have been fine, but it’s hard to settle so many folks on uneven ground. Poor German lady and her two kids were there, hiding out under a wagon. While we went out riding to find her missing husband we found this perfect spot by a lake. Huge, even field hidden by trees. I can see us hiding there a long while.”

He looked calm about the whole ordeal and happy about the new site. 

“What happened to him?” You asked suddenly. 

“Who? Oh, the husband. Arthur took him back to his wife and we met up as we was coming back near Valentine. The family is alright,” he smiled down at you, the worry leaving your face. 

“Just like to know they were safe is all!” You said a bit too defensively, but laughed at yourself. 

Arthur was leaning against the last wagon as it was being packed up. Charles waved to you and carried Jack up to meet Abigail and John leading the wagon, then left to lead the caravan off to the new campsite. 

“Guess it’s just you and me then, huh?” He took the last puff of a cigarette, then threw it out into the grass. “Guess so, Mr. Morgan.”

“How many damn times you gonna keep calling me that?” he growled. 

“Sorry. Arthur,” he waved his hand, signalling his indifference. “Now, Her Strauss gave us three people to collect from, are we gonna be able to do that all in one afternoon?”

“Hope so. All locals, just need to get them talking quickly. Need be we can camp and head to the new site tomorrow.”

“With what? Most of my supplies just left,” you motioned to your things now rolling away in the last caravan and out of sight. The few supplies attached to Eclipse were nothing compared to what had just left you. Arthur swore and moved to get on his horse, “Then we best get this done fast. It’s already late and the first one’s an hour ride.”

Eclipse kept up with Zeus, Arthur’s dark bay stallion, well during the journey. She was a little headstrong and sometimes didn’t respond to you right away, causing Arthur to take the lead in case she decided to jump off a bridge or something like that. 

Talking was infrequent. Arthur turned out to be more of a focused and quiet rider. You found out he also liked to read, though not like Hosea. He shared many qualities with the older man but was still inexplicably drawn more to Dutch. They were both hot headed with a sense of leadership, and Hosea was more about playing things safe. Arthur had a healthy dose of each and the influence was easy to see in just about everything he did. 

The first stop was a man named Chick Matthews. As you rode up, one of the hands told you Chick was out around the barn tending to his horse. The moment he spotted the two of you riding up he jumped on and galloped away, which was a shocking sight. 

“Arthur! I’ll head up over the ridge to his right, I think I see a bridge up ahead. You go right after him and let’s see who can get there first. Heya!” Without waiting for him to respond you kicked Eclipse into a full gallop after the little man. She ran fast and strong, but Chick had a good head start and it took a bit of corralling to catch up. In the distance you could hear him taunting Arthur for being too slow and old, and you can only imagine the rage boiling on his face. They came up to a train that you had bypassed by going up above when Arthur managed to lasso that fool straight to the ground. 

Once knocked down he coughed and sputtered like an idiot. 

“Look, look, I got the money...but it’s hidden. Untie me and I’ll tell you where it’s at.” 

You rode up just as Arthur finished hog tying the man, throwing a punch or two for making you both chase him so far. This may be your fist debt collecting but you wouldn’t let him abuse the man. As he pulled back to hit him again you grabbed his arm.

“Arthur! Let the man talk, for heaven’s sake. He’s got the money.” Arthur looked at your concerned face incredulously. “Miss Moore, this country round here is full of idiots. Look at this one here,” he kicked his boot against Chicks lightly. “Now see, he doesn’t think we know about what’s in his pockets so why don’t you empty them out for me?”

Pick pocketing was better than beating, so you leaned down to see what he was hiding. An old carrot, a cigarette card, and a map leading you right to the money were all you found. 

The map was incredibly simple. One bridge and a tree were all that were on it, and you looked down at Chick. “I may now want to hit you sir, for this is surely the dumbest map I have ever seen. Where the hell does it even start?” 

He smiled a gap toothed grin up at you. “See Miss! That’s the best part. No one knows it but me.” At that Arthur delivered another kick to his stomach, hard and fast. “Tell me where the damn money is!” 

“Fine! Okay, Jesus. Head north and turn left at the Old Creek Bridge, it’s the tree closest there.”

Arthur nodded and moved towards Zeus. “YN, you take that sack of shit back to the ranch and I’ll meet you once I have collected Mr. Matthews’ debt. You try any funny business with her, and you’ll wish all I’d done was break some ribs of yours,” and took off. 

Chick starred up at Eclipse. “Gee, Miss, I ain’t never ridden behind on a horse before. And never with a woman!” You rolled your eyes and loaded him up behind you. 

True to his word Chick Matthews put up no fuss heading back. He pointed out some of his favorite land features and asked you to walk into town more than once. You politely declined, but you knew he didn’t mean any harm.  Arthur finally rode up with a bag, showing you the cash then tucking it safely away in his satchel. The two of you were off to victim number two, Mr. Wrobel.

The Polish man lived at a farm called Painted Sky, and didn’t speak a lick of English. You tried to be soft and comforting but that didn’t seem to go anywhere, so Arthur lumbered in and demanded the return of cash. Wrobel seemed to have nothing, but sadly motioned around his home and let the two of you take enough possessions to equal the amount of the debt. It broke your heart to watch his face, and leaving you could see it troubled Arthur too. 

“Why do you do jobs like this if they don’t feel right?” You asked quietly as the two of you mounted your horses for the third and final destination. 

Arthur scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “I honestly prefer when they try to run or put up a fight. Don’t feel so bad robbin’ folks who make a point to take advantage of the loan. But those like him? Who need it? Makes me think I’m only out here to grease the wheel so it keeps turning. Folks need money, we lend it, then take it back with interest.” 

Finally arriving past dark at Emerald Ridge, the third debtor gave Arthur no hesitation in his approach of getting the money back. Lilly Millet’s boyfriend jumped up and attacked him with a swift uppercut to his jaw and the man drew no pity from you after you heard the way he was berating Lilly. 

Lilly grabbed your arm while the two men brawled and made a fuss of it all. Truth be told, it was quite the sight. Both me tall and muscular in build it was an evenly matched fight. After a few quick hits the other man went down, and Arthur stood huffing above him. You definitely understood why he liked the ones who fought him, he looked damn fine doing it. 

“Alright, alright! That’s enough. He has everything I gave him, please, just take what he has and go,” Lilly called out to Arthur. To you, she whispered, “You’re a lucky girl to be running with a man like that. Makes mine look like an old rag.” You both looked down to where her man lay unconscious, in the mud. She rolled her eyes and made her way over to get him cleaned up. 

Chuckling, you walked over to Arthur. “What’s so funny now?” he asked while stuffing the last of the cash in his satchel.

“Lilly had more on her mind that just debts, I think,” you looked at him suggestively but were met with a blank stare. “Oh, come on Arthur don’t be dense. I think she likes you!” After a beat it clicked and he looked away embarrassed. “Want me to ask if she’s free Friday?” you moved slowly backwards but he grabbed your upper arm lightly. “No! Come on, woman. We best be moving. Probably have to camp halfway back now.” He started Zeus into a slow walk as you jumped up to Eclipse.

“Besides, she ain’t my type anyways. I like brunettes,” and with that he took off galloping, leaving you to watch and race after him.

[ireflectaut]

Post Three

Things to explore and think about that I learnt from my research:

Listing- I found the listing in Eloise Goes To Paris so compelling and entertaining.

The poetry & rhythm of both books was beautiful and integral to the writer's art.

Dialogue was a great part of both books as well; Eloise had such a strong voice that made you feel and love her, and Max’s character came through in his dialogue. The phonetic spelling and humour in Eloise Goes To Paris was a great was to make the character come to life, and the dynamic nature and visual aspect of Max’s dialogue in Where the Wild Things Are was captivating.  

Maurice Sendak’s story doesn’t rely on an abundance of unnecessary words; he gets the point across concisely and vividly. Both stories also have an assertive protagonist which is something I need to work towards.  

I adore aesthetically the abstract nature of Sendak’s writing; I think it lends well to the concept as a whole and getting children to explore their imagination in less rigid terms, and also makes the illustrations come to life and have creative licence to elevate the story.

Themes of childhood emotion, imagination and being boundless in what your protagonist can do was very inspiring to me as well.

I wrote drafts of a few different stories that were inspired by my research in order to find one that I could then edit, and use as my final story.

One:

What I am trying to explore: 

Abstract concepts, interesting dialogue, themes of imagination and using repetition. Also themes of who you are and who you can be that I was interested in in my proposal.

Story:

“Hello, me!” said Sam to the mirror

“Hello, you!” said the mirror to Sam.

“I’m doing something different today.”

The mirror smiled back.

Sam liked their hair long,

Sam liked their hair short,

Sam liked that their hair had a life of its own.  

Today Sam’s hair wanted to be long.

So they stepped through the time hole.

They were very very squished

And then, suddenly, hugely stretched out

And Sam popped out in one year.

They looked in the mirror

“HELLO, old friend!”  

Sam was bewildered,

Their hair twirled all around.  

Sam twirled with it.  

Two:

What I am trying to explore: 

Exploring listing & imagination. Thinking about poetry; alliteration, rhyme, cadence & repetition.

Story:

My Things

I have a million things.

They are all me,

And I am all them.

This one cost two whole dollars!

This one I found

In the middle of a tree!

This pile of things is very heavy

And very dusty

Because they stay very still

And I watch them intently.

These are my jewels.

I collect them on my walks.

I give them to friends

Who come in all sorts.

Sometimes I lose my things,

In fact I do it a lot...  

Usually it's those silly Grimbles

This is a Grimble hot spot.

Flowers are my favourites.

Its ok if they get dry,

I stick them between a book

Or just paint them with my dye.

This one I made  

It hangs on my wall,

If I focus and point,

I can make it fall.

This one is expensive,

My mum got it for me.

I get under the covers,

And I go off to sleep.

Three:

Inspired maybe a little too heavily by Where the Wild Things Are; inspired by the narrative structure and themes. Also playing with the use of capitals like Sendak does.

A mean finger pointed in Lolas face

A big red mean finger attached to a big mean red ogre

That looked like he was about to SWALLOW Lola whole

Lola screamed and she ran and ran and ran and ran

And her face was wet with tears.

As her tears fell something strange happened

The tears became bigger and bigger  

And more and more

Until they themselves grew larger than Lola

And they swallowed her up.

Lola tucked her knees to her chest

And locked her arms around them

She closed her eyes and sobbed some more.

Lola created a bubble around her

So that nobody from outside could enter her tears

And no creatures from her tears could enter her bubble.

She was all alone.

One hundred years passed  

and the tears had dried up

And Lola was alone...

“YIPPEE” she said! “WOO HOO” she yelled!

She danced around the land!

She twirled all day! And skipped all night!

And yelled into the air

“I AM ALOOONNNEEEEEEEE!”

She looked around....  

She danced around the land, again.

She twirled all day.

And skipped all night.

She whispered to herself

“I am all alone.”

So she walked across the land,

And back across the hundred years,

She found her tears  

And swam.

She found the big red ogre

Who had shrunk back to his regular size,

With his shirt tucked in,

And his big round eyes.

He bent down to little Lola

To show her a smile.

He was no longer red.

And she      was no longer scared.

Four:

Inspiration from the craziness of the world around Eloise- I love the flamboyance of the crazy hotel she lives in and the strangeness of the world around her.

Story:

Amelias house lent to the left  

Unless there was a particularly strong wind

Or you told it off,  

In which case it leant to the right.

Amelia didn’t like to tell the house off

But sometimes it got carried away

And squashed her cats

And once it almost squashed Amelia

When she was sleeping

(and she had to grab bricks from her dream and pile them up  

So she didn’t get squashed)

(she made sure to return the bricks later)

After that incident she had to tell the house off  

Really bad  

And it lent to the right for a while after that

Which made the furniture look funny.

Amelia did what every normal child did;

She made sure to pay the monthly bills

She talked to important people on the phone

She worried about money  

and made sure to find as much as she could on her walk to work.

Her work was petting strangers' cats.  

She loved it, don’t get me wrong, but boy was it stressful sometimes.  

When she got home from work, she said to house

“UGH, will you let me put my bag down first!

Before you start harassing me for things!”

And then she poured herself a glass of something strong;

Tonight, it was lime cordial.  

On the weekends she slept in

And said oh boy, I wish everyday was like this!

She made sure to read the news paper

For her news, on paper

And she shook the pages around  

And flipped them back and forth as best she could

And made sure to fold it in a few different ways.

Sometimes she would grab a pen and say to house

“what's a four-letter word for flabbergasted?”

And then do a big loud “Hmpfh”

And turn the page over.  

Since all of this was really quite exhausting,

Amelia was lucky to have her parents' house to escape to

If she needed it.

Five:

What I am trying to explore: 

Themes of childhood emotion, actively trying to write an assertive protagonist. Using repetition & alliteration. Also trying to write so that when read out loud it will be amusing.  

Story:

I put on my favorite dress,

My secret favorite dress, nobody knows

Its girly and pink and the sparkles go BOOM

And then I heard the voice,

He always comes

Whenever I put on the secret dress

The voice is slimy and dark and dank

And throws you into a deep dark hole

The hole is so deep and dark and deep

Sometimes I think I'll never leave.

He says yuck, that dress is girly

So girly pink and yuck

You look silly, didn’t sally say?

When you wore that dress to school one day?

But there is one thing that I can do

When that slimy voice comes

I pull out my sword and say GO AWAY

And I cut the slimy thing to the bone

The funny thing is,  

The thing behind the voice

The slimiest sluggiest slip slop yuck voice in the whole wide world

Is the smallest tiniest silliest thing,

It's hard not to laugh at it.

Six:

What I am trying to explore: 

Story:

There once was a little girl who never spoke.

Well, she had spoken once, as a baby. She said ‘baba’ which in baby talk meant “please get off my bed, big brother, I would like to be alone now”

But her brother laughed, and pointed a big red finger at her and called their parents in.

“What, what?” they said, “hurry up boy!”  

“Look at Amelia trying to talk!”

They crowded her and staired at her with their big round eyes, waiting.

Amelia tried to say: “I'm not sure what the commotion is about... I know what I want to say, I’m just figuring out how to get it out. I’ll figure it out soon, mummy, daddy.”

But only a loud babble came out: “Mmm gaba.”

Her family scrunched up their faces and started laughing at her.  

“Well, she's not going to be the brightest of the bunch!”  

And they left her all alone.  

Amelia was so embarrassed from that day forward that she didn’t say a word again.

That was nine whole years ago.  

Since Amelia’s family didn’t believe her to be bright, they never sent her to school.

But Amelia learnt in her own way.

She taught herself how to read and how to paint using things from around the house. Marmite was a great black, and if she cut out parts of magazines she could create great images of colour and people.

She sat in her garden and learned about the bugs and the trees, and about how the leaves on the trees fell when it was getting colder, and how flowers started popping up when warmer weather was on its way.

Amelia was lucky to have the kindest next door neighbour in the world; Miss Andrews.  

Miss Andrews was as loud and chatty which made up for Amelia’s lack of words. She also played violin.

I also wrote an alternate path for this story, but wasn’t able to finish either due to lack of time.

Amelia walked to school by herself every day.  

She crossed busy roads and walked down dark alleys.

She walked past bullies who pulled her pigtails and stole her lunch;  

Not that they were very impressed with it, Amelia's family weren’t big cooks

Usually, her lunch was packed with ice,  

or sometimes a lemon found its way in.  

Amelia never said anything to the bullies.

She was too scared to talk.  

Amelia had a horrible teacher who picked on her in class.

She forced all the children to read their work out loud

And if they could she would yell “PAAASSSSS!”

But if they couldn’t she would yell “FAAIILLLLLL!”

And make them run 100 laps around the field,  

rain or shine.

Luckily, Amelia had a friend.

Her name was Lola.

Lola ran laps around the field with Amelia,  

Even when she didn’t have to.

Lola made fun of the bullies when they weren’t looking,

And Lola shared her lunch with Amelia, so she wouldn’t be hungry.

Amelia walked into class and took her seat next to Lola.

Seven:

Laura wasn’t good at anything.

She didn’t know how to be good.

She tried drawing but she did it wrong

And her parents told her off.

She tried reading but she didn’t know the words,

She tried writing but it came out all wrong,

The words were lopsided and fell off the page.  

She tried cooking but she made a mess

She tried tidying but somehow... made it even messier.

She hid from her mum after that,

But she wasn’t good at hiding.  

Laura felt silly and strange so she sat in her garden

And she closed her eyes for a very long time.  

When she woke up, she got quite a shock.

Her garden had grown into a tall dark forest,

With flowers and vines and big dense bushes.

Laura looked around. She was lost, and cold. A howl echoed far away.  

But then – she heard a smaller howl. A tiny one. She turned to see a little wolf.

The wolf looked at her and growled – he was scared too.  

Laura crawled slowly to him and held out her hand.

“Come here, little wolf. Its ok, I won't hurt you.”

The wolf whimpered and cautiously sniffed her hand.

She pet him on the head and he came into her lap.

“Where do you live, little wolf?” asked Laura, and they heard another loud howl in the distance.

The little wolf tried to howl back but was so quiet Laura barely heard it herself.

“I see.” she whispered. “I’ll get you back home.”

So Laura and the wolf took off looking for home.

I ended up choosing my three favourite stories and working on them to find what my final story would be.

[kairoth]

Could you do all of the questions?

heyhey! yea! done on my laptop :>

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?♥ usually more milk but then i try to fix the ratio and it ends up being more cereal asfh

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?♥ eehhh sometimes

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?♥ mostly just pieces of paper lol

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?♥ with LOTS of sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?♥ yes. it's gross

6: do you keep plants?♥ yea!

7: do you name your plants?♥ ofc i do

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?♥ music mainly. like you'll know my mood by knowing what song i listen to

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?♥ ye ~

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?♥ my side usually but i move a lot in my sleep

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?♥ bongwater,,

12: what’s your favorite planet?♥ saturn! and pluto,,, and jupiter ahh

13: what’s something that made you smile today?♥ thinking about puppies !!!!!!

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?♥ idk? messy

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!♥ apparently you get taller in space

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?♥ this is boring of me but i like plain ol' pasta with butter and salt the most

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?♥ white with purple ombre !

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.♥ HHH when i was 6 months old i ate a spider and anyone who knows about it never lets me live it down

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?♥ i try to keep em and write in em but i often forget

20: what’s your favorite eye color?♥ mmm i can't choose, they're all great !

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.♥ oof my batman backpack that i gave to my dad. that thing went through A LOT. my new one is really good too tho. it's just red and black but it's served me well.

22: are you a morning person?♥ depends on if i've gotten a good night's sleep and if i'm particularly excited for the day!

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?♥ sleep, listen to music, read

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?♥ yea. we don't talk anymore tho. i miss him

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?♥ nowhere? i've never broken in before

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?♥ i always wear my vans til they fall apart. my current pair are space themed bc ofc

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?♥ juicyfruit ig?

28: sunrise or sunset?♥ sunset

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?♥ ASFH UHM idk?? them just being themselves is enough for me to smile over them

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?♥ yes

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.♥ i wear mismatched socks all the time but like they do match each other somewhat. like. i have a bunch of stitch socks and i don't wear their match but i'll wear another stitch sock with it.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.♥ uhh me and two friends played never have i ever over kik once and long story short we learned a lot abt each other. some things we never wanted to know

33: what’s your fave pastry?♥ idk! i like danish pastries pretty well tho

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?♥ teddy!! i got him when i was 5 from my cousin for like a nickel. he's just a standard lil brown teddy bear. and ofc i still have him asdgh can't sleep without him. i even bring him to sleepovers

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?♥ yea! i use them when i can

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?♥ EDEN. and crywank generally fits me too

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?♥ i like it to be clean but often it just gets cluttered and i don't have the motivation to clean it

38: tell us about your pet peeves!♥ uhhh i hate rude, arrogant, judgemental people, disloyalty, uhm, the sound that weird plastic makes, uhhh idk

39: what color do you wear the most?♥ mostly black and white

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?♥ my solar system bracelet! i saw the post for it on tumblr and sent it to my mum, and she ended up getting it for me for christmas!

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?♥ we were liars by e. lockhart. if i had to choose a fave it'd be that one. i sobbed for days after reading it. i think it kinda did smthn to my soul

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!♥ i do not sadly :

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?♥ my mum, i think ?

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?♥ oof, when harley was still here. it was a nice day, the sun was shining through my window, birds singing, EDEN playing softly, and harley was all cuddled up on my chest with his head tucked under my chin, purring away.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?♥ depends. i try to evenly listen to my instincts and to logic

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.♥ my friend used to make a lot of bone puns bc of undertale and sans and one of my faves is "wasn't that HUMERUS"

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?♥ SEAFOOD it's grrrrrrrrrrroooooooosssss

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?♥ death. and yes.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?♥ haven't bought many of those, i mostly listen to spotify :0 i did get the vinyl of black parade that mcr was giving out for the anniversary !

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?♥ crystals ig? pokemon cards, pens, books. uhh. i have a lot of paper and notebooks lmao

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?♥ mm. good times by all time low.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?♥ uhh idk i like all of em

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?♥ heathers is epic and i love christian slater but also his voice is hilarious, beetlejuice was good and amazingly weird, and i've no seen the other two yet.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?♥ HHH. the other day my mum's friend was talking abt how she's having problems with renters and she looked like she was gonna cry but it was more frustration than anything so idk?

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?♥ man idk it's prob somethin big but i don't remember

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?♥ ? idk. it depends ig?? like for my one friend i love that he loves animals, for my other i love that she loves music. for one i love her kindness and outward innocence and i find it hilarious when she actually shows her angry or sassy side.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?♥ god i love bohemian rhapsody. so good. so catchy. the best. me and my former bff used to sing it all the time

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?♥ mmmm idk :0

59: what’s your favorite myth?♥ i love myths abt creatures! my faves are about the fae folk.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?♥ idk :0

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?♥ uhh just a basic gift card ig. and uhm idk?

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?♥ mm if i have juice i'll drink it!

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?♥ i try to keep them organized

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?♥ it's getting late and it's kinda cloudy and grey

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?♥ yeaa.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?♥ mmm idk! maybe lots of purple and light blues? :0

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?♥ bad. i've always been nervous with storms and whatnot and those kinda days just make me jittery.

68: what’s winter like where you live?♥ well for a while it actually is winter and gets cold. but it's florida so ofc it goes back to being hot af.

69: what are your favorite board games?♥ i've always been fond of sorry sliders and candy land

70: have you ever used a ouija board?♥ NO AND I NEVER WILL. my mum and aunts did once and HHHHHHHH they ended up with a possessed barney doll

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?♥ earl grey ! i really wanna try lavender tea tho

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?♥ yea but i don't often actually do it

73: what are some of your worst habits?♥ i sleep and procrastinate too much but i'm trying, i pick at threads a lot hhh,

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.♥ ok uhh. they remind me of a canary bird. i associate them with yellow and pink. they're super sweet. always helpful. sad and i wish i could help them more. all in all a v good friend and v good person.

75: tell us about your pets!♥ OOF OK GET READY. syd: sydney, my man. the big orange floof. meathead. he likes to stand up and hold onto your shirt or pants and it's cute but also CLAWS. v smart, knows that if he annoys me enough i'll open my door for him. maggie: pretty pretty princess. also the grossest princess. beaut white, brown capped fur and green gold eyes and cutest lil meows. bean: has two thumbs, one is teensy tiny. meows are like inaudible. usually grumpy and will run if you pet her. only accepts affection when she's sleepy. sebastian: the real grumpy cat. russian blue boy. has a hard time jumping correctly now cos he's old. always talking and complaining. likes pets. will fight you. ash: scaredy boi. dark as night. murrs instead of meows bc he wasn't raised by other cats. rarely purrs but you know he loves you. likes head bumps. will scratch you if you're not paying attention to him. can be a bully. arrow: FAT. has scabs bc he keeps scratching himself,, why boi why (we think he's allergic to smthn). meows LOUDLY. eats everyone's food. likes to go outside. once got stuck in the same tree twice. shelby: old girl. jack russel. super hyper but also LAZY. only sleeps under blankets. gets jealous. will force her way onto your lap. the smelliest dog in existence i swear. emmy: chihuahua. grumpyyyy old lady. always telling people to shut up (mostly shelby). cute tho. has seizures sometimes. will purposefully use the bathroom on the floor where you'll step or on something of yours if you upset her. moriarty: my snek! good boy. likes to be under his paper towels. smol. has a cute face. percy: GRUMPY leopard gecko. she's a blizzard morph and she looks purple. so grumpy aaaaaaaaah. red: my betta girl. the other girls with her (blue and esme) died. she comes up to the glass to say hi to you. oscar the grouch: hedgehog. SO GRUMP. he literally turned his entire house around so you can't see him. rude. lillith, yuki, and star: ferrets. inseperable. good little catsnakes who i love. yuki has a thing for feet and shoes. star messes with the dogs/cats by nipping them. lillith is good but bites a bit hard. the chickens: we named them after the avengers. cap can die. literally she hates me and my mum she tries to fight us. RUDE.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?♥ yes. schoolwork

77: pink or yellow lemonade?♥ i like both !

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?♥ uhh hate club ig? idrk?????

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?♥ mmmMM my former bff used to be very supportive of my clinginess and she would be talking and i could just like hold my hands out to her or hug her and she'd be totally ok with it and not even pause talking. the best thing ever tbh

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?♥ two walls are light grey and the other two are a slightly darker grey! i chose it :> i wanted a good neutral color besides beige or white.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.♥ mmm. like the sun shining through the branches of the trees.

82: are/were you good in school?♥ i mean?? ig? i get ok grades (mostly Bs) but i always procrastinate assignments cos i'm lazy and unmotivated

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?♥ ooohh my fave is from life starts now by three days grace. i actually made it my theme once on chrome

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?♥ yea! i wanna get a lot of space related ones! and maybe the chip number of my boy harley

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?♥ mm. i read webcomics! a fave of mine is stutterhug by samantha davies on taptastic :>

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?♥ uhhhhhhh i don't know any off the top of my head and i looked it up and it says american idiot by green day is one and i love them so? yeah

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?♥ THE CROW. and the last unicorn!! both so good

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?♥ i've always been fond of symbolism

89: are you close to your parents?♥ i'm close to my mum! not so much my dad

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.♥ woodsboro, maryland! that's where my aunts and cousins live. i love going up there!

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?♥ idk! my mum did bring up going somewhere this year tho

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?♥ barely even a pinch. unless it's spaghetti and that powdery parmesan cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?♥ wellll we shaved the sides and back so it's just long at the top and flipped sideways

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?♥ ? it was my mum's boss's birthday a few days ago :0 we all had lunch together and she asked me what name she should call me by. i love her tbh

95: what are your plans for this weekend?♥ hopefully i can go see the puppies !!!

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?♥ procrastinate

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?♥ infp, leo but i relate more to my scorpio chart, and hufflepuff!

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?♥ i've never actually been hiking!! and tbh i enjoy pretty much anything long as i'm with someone i like!

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.♥ jupiter by EDEN, leech boy by crywank, lost//found by EDEN, boats & birds by gregory and the hawk, and saturn by sleeping at last. a lot of others too ahh

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?♥ five years in the past. i could fix a lot of things that happened.

[vide0-nasties]

the lark in the clear air

1.2k words of sweet, gentle apprentice on apprentice romance, ft. @asrekt‘s apprentice clover, whom i am painfully in love with.

---

Eustacia wakes up with a riot of brunette waves in her face, and Clover in her arms. It’s dark yet, but, even with the curtains drawn, she can see a blue-gray hush barely beginning to tint the sky through the slightly parted seam.

Clover will be up and moving soon (always the early riser compared to her nocturnal bedmate), but there is time yet, a little of it, to sleep.

Eustacia gathers her up, scoots a little closer, and rests her cheek against the crown of Clover’s head to catch the scent of her hair. When Clover stirs the barest bit and settles back down with a sigh, Eustacia slips under again, warm and very content.

Hours later—once Clover coaxed Eustacia out of bed and into clothes with kisses and pragmatic arguments—they dawdle through the market. Eustacia keeps an arm draped lazily around Clover’s shoulders, swaying slow and lazy to keep from overtaking her. She keeps her knees from stepping too high, so as not to punt the basket hooked over Clover’s arm clear across the canals.

“Mm—you know, I think my shipment should’ve come in by now,” she mentions, twirling a strand of Clover’s hair through her fingers. “What say you to the two of us finding some food and going down to the docks to pick it up?”

“What—Eustacia. Don’t you need that for your work? You should’ve said something, we could’ve picked it up hours ago,” Clover sighs, darting a look up at her. Eustacia thinks she’ll never get tired of those eyes giving her beleaguered looks. “You’re a mess.”

“Oh, aye, beyond even that,” she laughs, bumping her hip against Clover’s side. “Besides, some uptown, dandy fop not getting a teeny curse undone from him doesn’t bother me terribly. He probably deserved it.”

“Mhmm.”

Eustacia ducks to press a kiss against Clover’s temple before they part ways with a plan to meet by the docks, and she can’t keep herself from grinning and walking backward a few steps to keep watching Clover’s hand adjust with the hair at that same temple.

In her shipment, she does receive the material concerning her customer’s curse, but it’s more a booklet than a true book, and she’ll likely resell it the moment she no longer has use for it. But it wasn’t the reason for the long delay.

No, the other two volumes were the worthy cause of that.

One a bulky, illuminated botanical encyclopedia she remembers from her dull days guarding the Sisters’ healers. More than four times her age, and quite possibly one of the last remaining copies in existence, the writing in the margins push it closer to grimoire than reference. She thinks she might even recognize the shape of the handwriting, but she’d never be able to put a face to it.

The second a volume of translated poetry bound in butter-soft leather tanned the color of faint blushing pink. Already, Eustacia catches the scent of apple blossoms, and, sure enough, when she opens the cover, she finds dried flowers pressed against the pages. Thank you, old mother, she thinks with a laugh, tucking the petals back into place.

Old Harriet at the Hammer and Thorn Antiquity shop certainly had a sense of romance for a woman that outlived six husbands, and her services were well-worth the price.

The book is a sentimental gift out of her rocky and marshy homeland, something she’d spent probably far too much time trying to find, but one she hopes Clover will enjoy. One that might make her think of a lanky witch dressed all in black, should a day come that they’re apart from one another.

Clover’s already beaten her down to the docks, watching ships slide into port through the gray chop of the bay. Eustacia has to slow her step, take in the sight of the salt air picking up Clover’s hair, pinking her cheeks. Suddenly, Eustacia’s throat feels tight, her tongue like lead. She knows she’s a lucky thing—maybe one of the luckiest.

Tucking hair behind her ears, Clover smiles when she catches sight of Eustacia, and waves her over. “I got bread—brioche! You need to eat!”

“So do you,” she calls back, closing the distance between them in a small handful of loped steps. Peeking into the basket, she can feel her stomach twitch. A very pretty loaf of brioche, braided through with ribbons of chocolate. Shit, she’s starving. But she sets her books on the low stone wall separating the paved street from the wooden docks a level down, and puts her hands around Clover’s waist to pop her up next to them. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast either.”

“Did you get your shipment?” Clover dodges, though she does pull the bread out and tear off a strip, holding it out in offering.

“I certainly did. I’ve got them here for you now,” she says, patting the books and taking a bite that almost melts in her mouth. Clover’s knees butt up against Eustacia’s thighs, and Eustacia situates herself comfortably between them when Clover lets her closer, humming quizzically, “For me, is that so?”

“It’s so. Take a gander.”

She tries to play it calm and cool as Clover picks up the encyclopedia, though she’s fit to burst with excitement. It’s all she can do to keep from bouncing on her heels. Her fingers hover over the pages, barely brushing over gilt-edged full page illustrations and smaller water color insets, skirting the scribblings in the margins to keep them from smudging further.

“Eustacia…what is this?” she breathes, looking from the page into her face.

“Just something silly I thought you’d like. I imagine you already know all that’s in it, but it’s pretty,” she laughs. “Look at the other one, too—it’s more pleasure than business.”

The apple blossoms fall into Clover’s lap, and instinctively she bunches up her legs to keep them from spilling on the ground. “It’s beautiful,” she says, flipping through pages as thin as onion skin. “Wow, it’s beautiful, Eustacia.”

Now, she allows herself to beam a bit. “Dear thoughts are in my mind / And my soul soars enchanted, / As I hear the sweet lark sing / In the clear air of day,” she quotes the poem on the first page after the index. “Works of the better poets from whence I come. Codex of collected pretty words, and none of them too tawdry or maudlin, as I’m wont to enjoy.”

Eustacia is somewhat shocked by Clover pulling her down for a kiss, but she laughs and relaxes into it. It’s no flaming sword of a kiss—not something that’s going to shatter the world asunder and send Eustacia plummeting through the earth when the ground breaks apart under her feet—but what it lacks in burn and loudness, it makes up in weight and importance.

Clover is more quiet and reserved than she, and that she would forgo words immediately for physical affection has Eustacia thinking that she’s done a fine enough job in gift choice when she pulls away to see Clover already diving back in the book.

She rubs an apple blossom between her fingertips, knowing that they both know what the petals are meant to mean, and reads aloud while they eat.

[chimchiminiekookie]

Colorless | 01

Summary: The world is split in two, there are the colorless, and then there are the gifted, as in gifted with the sight of colors. Apparently, once you find your soulmate, when you really accept him or her, or when you finally realize that it's true love, the colorless are supposed to be able to see color.

Genre: Soulmate!AU

Member: Namjoon x reader

Word Count: 2,770

Author’s Note: Hey guys, so I’m a bit upset right now. I planned on having a new Between Worlds chapter out a couple of nights ago, and I was super sure that I put it in my queue, but nothing. It never uploaded and it’s nowhere to be found and I wrote the chapter on my brother’s laptop which he apparently deleted so now I’m stuck with absolutely nothing, I have to start chapter four COMPLETELY from scratch. I dunno, and I felt really bad and sad and just overall disappointed so I thought of making a short oneshot soulmate series for all the members, but please be patient because honestly, I have a hard time writing for other members, so I’ll be making them in order from who I have the hardest time writing about to the easiest . huhuhu sorry, but I’m gonna work on maybe Jin’s or J-Hope’s after I get at least 4 pages done on my 40 page term paper in Labor Economics, LOL school first. BTW, has anyone ever noticed how blessed Namjoon was by puberty? 

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

“Namjoon was just the new student assistant at the library, so why does he keep giving you books on flowers?” 

You sat in class staring out the window watching the class next door playing PE. They ran around as mud splashed their clothes disgusted by the brown mess they were making. You looked at the girl sitting next you you who sighed dreamily at your teacher.

You poked her shoulder, "Yah, are you actually attracted to him?" You looked at the teacher who you admit was handsome, he had platinum blonde hair, how he got away with it was beyond you, and he looked a few years older than you, he just was not someone who was worth getting in trouble over.

The girl next to you quickly regains her composure and clears her throat, "he's kind of nice isn't he? He tells really funny jokes." She giggles probably remembering one of them.

And you think back on those jokes, and no, they really weren't funny, cheesy maybe or perfect for someone like your father. The sound of the school bells catches your attention and has you jumping up to stand before the teacher could even dismiss you. You grab your bag and start making your way out the door, giving a playful salute to Mr. Kim on your way out.

"Thanks for that lesson on Julius Caesar Mr. Kim! I guess you could say he wanted to rule over Rome TOGA-ther with Cleopatra!" You heard the girl behind you make a joke that instantly brought Mr. Kim's laugh; something that may have sounded forced but was not, it really sounded like a windshield wiper.

You took your time walking through the corridor, having to wait after school for your mom to pick you up, turning corners you had memorized from spending so many days there after school, and then you stop in front of two large doors, the library.

You walk in without hesitation and a huge grin on your face with squinted eyes, "Hey Mrs. Lee! I hope you don't mind, not like you've minded before but I'll be staying here agai-" you settled your elbows on the librarians table counter and put your head in your hands only to come face to face with a blonde haired, blank faced boy who stared right back at you, blinking slowly.

You stared at him, seeing the grey outline around his iris, he was a colorless, you shake your head, "Sorry, uh, I thought it was just Mrs. Lee today. I shouldn't be any trouble; I only stay for an hour or two, three max."

He blinks a few more times at you, simply looking away and waving you off, "It's fine, my name is Kim Namjoon, and before you ask, no I'm not related to Mr. Kim, I just transferred here."

You start walking away, "You'll like it here." You find the familiar seat right next to the large Non-Fiction collection and you grab a random book, getting started on the first chapter.

The atmosphere was slightly awkward, seeing as all Namjoon did the first hour was stand around the librarian's table, you looked around and realized he still had a lot of books he needed to get sorted and if he stayed there the whole time, he would stay here until night time.

"Hey." You instantly catch his attention, "I don't know if you know this or not, but Mrs. Lee usually organizes the book since almost nobody comes in here."

"But what if someone comes in?"

You laugh out loud suddenly at his comment earning a confused look from Namjoon, "I'm not being rude or anything, but I swear, almost nobody ever comes here. And if anybody does, they'll ring the little bell on the table." He looked at you unsure, "If you're really that worried, I could even help you and call you when somebody does come in." You give him a wink.

He doesn't answer but simply walks away from the table, pushing one of many book carts along with him. He doesn't say much, but you come to realize that he must not be too strict when you find him rapping along to a song while organized the books, and that's how the rest of the time is spent; listening to Namjoon rap while pretending to read.

The days following that week, he wasn't there, but come Wednesday after that week, you come face to face with him once again. Except, this time, he had a yellow book clutched tightly in his hand.

"Wow, alone once again. Mrs. Lee must trust you with her precious books." You laugh.

"Here." He slides the book your way.

You stare at the book in confusion, "I wasn't reading this though."

"I know." He steps away from the table and continues on with organizing the books.

You slowly take your seat and look around finding he was too far to see what you were doing, so you opened the book and found that it was a book on Acacias, that and Namjoon had already stamped a return date on it, for next Thursday. You tilted your head and swayed it from left to right, trying to figure out what Namjoon was doing. So instead of reading like you had planned, you spent the entire time watching Namjoon, while unknown to you, he smiled slyly to himself. You realize that day that Namjoon was really tall. Two months pass by with that routine of yours, Namjoon hands you a book he borrowed in your name, and you sit around pretending to read while secretly watching him.

The following week, on Tuesday, you don't forget the book he borrowed in your name, you didn't exactly read it, but you did keep it tucked away in your backpack, not letting anyone see it or get it dirty.

You walk in the library straight to the librarian's table with the book tightly clutched in your arms. "Hi Namjoon, I wanted to ask why you gave this to me- oh, another one? Okay." You're caught off guard when he shoves another book in your arms after grabbing the yellow book he'd given you from last week, today; you notice his dimples while he smiled at your confused face.

You looked down at the book; the cover was red with gold lettering on the front, "A History on Tulips?" You looked at Namjoon unsurely, "Let me guess, I'll be returning it next week?"

The following week, Namjoon wasn't there, instead, it was Mrs. Lee, who greeted you with a dark red book with the word CARNATIONS on the front, "He asked me to give you this, because he has tutoring today." She smiled kindly at you.

You smiled back and you turned, only to turn back around and look at her, "Sorry, but do you know which room he's in?"

She looked at you for a second and rummaged through her table pulling out what looked like a post-it, she squinted as she tried to read the messy handwriting, "I believe this says 227"

"Thanks Mrs. Lee!" You give her a wave and you start running, scanning the room number you pass by on the second floor.

When you get to 227, you're panting and your feet are throbbing from running so much but that doesn't stop you from scanning the students sitting on the chairs, you furrow your eyebrows when you realize Namjoon isn't there, but instead, it's filled with a bunch of fourth years, you spot Yoongi dozing off and Hoseok sticking notes on Yoongi's back. You take a deep breath, realizing Namjoon's probably just running late and hold the doorknob, when you find the courage to open the door; everyone's already looking at you.

You bow quickly and state loudly, "I was hoping to get some advanced lessons!"

The room is dead quiet but a single voice has you opening your mouth like a fish, "Okay, just take whatever seat, the topic today is thermodynamics."

Apparently, contrary to what you believed, Namjoon wasn't taking tutoring classes, he was giving them, and that's how you found yourself sitting in a three hour session staring at Kim Namjoon as he talked about what he called laws of Thermodynamics. When the class was over, you got up stretching only to be patted on the shoulder by Yoongi.

"Don't get yourself into situations you can't get yourself out of kid." He chuckled.

You instantly blushed at Yoongi, who was ever the observant one, "So, what are you doing in a senior tutoring class?" You heard the smile in his voice.

"I just- I was going to- I wanted to ask you about late return fees because I might not be here to return these next week." You quickly make up an excuse, why did you come here?

"Well it's the same fees that are posted up on the front door; you must've seen it before right?" He laughed, "Is your mom pocking you up again?"

You look up at him and shake your head completely at loss for words.

"Great, let's go, I'll walk you home." He grabbed your bag and books, taking a second to look at the book he'd borrowed for you with a smile.

The walk home wasn't awkward, but it wasn't one filled with conversation either. You stared at your bag, the one filled with books and the one currently being carried by one Kim Namjoon.

"I can carry that, it's kind of heav-"

"Exactly, it is heavy, so I mist imagine you've been carrying it all day. I can do it." He slapped your hand away lightly.

"I didn't know you were a senior." You looked up at him, "I-I mean you have the height of one but seniors don't really help out at the library, since they have more things to worry about than overdue library books."

He chuckled and stared at the ground, "I'm not." He looked over at you, "I'm a junior just like you."

He kept staring which had you turning red and looking away, "So why are you tutoring a bunch of seniors on thermodynamics?"

"And Trigonometry and basic Calculus." He stated in a matter of factly voice.

"What?"

"I'm tutoring seniors in Thermodynamics, Trigonometry and basic Calculus." He corrected.

"Oh, you must be pretty smart then." You try to make small talk, "Your eyes. I mean, if it's not a sensitive topic, you're colorless right?"

He looks at you quietly and blinking his eyes, "It's not and I am."

"How is it? I read a few books on it, but it's probably not as detailed coming from someone who's actually explaining it."

He started to walk slowly, "It's kind of dull actually. You wake up to grey and you go to sleep to grey and every time you see someone you find yourself attracted to, it's like you're just wishing for color to explode right before your eyes. But it doesn't and that's just soul wrenching." He looks at your worried face, "But I've come to find life has gotten tremendously brighter lately."

"This is my stop." You smile at him, "Thanks for walking me home."

He scratches the back of his head, "Thanks for letting me." He lets out a nervous laugh and hands you your bag and books, "Be sure to bring that on Monday next week." He points at the book.

"Will do. Bye Namjoon." You stare at his retreating figure, which to your surprise, hasn't turned back around to walk the right way, he continues waving until he hits the mailbox and completely topples over it quickly standing back up and running back from where you had just come from.

You realize that day that Namjoon was practically a genius and he was clumsy, but in a cute way, definitely cute.

Monday the following week rolls around but you find yourself sick, so you lay in bed all day texting your classmates for the homework, they said they'd bring it over, but it's already past 7 and they're lack of presence has you doubting on whether they even remembered. 

"Aren't you just the handsomest thing!?" You hear your mother's shrill voice coo at an unknown person making you sit up.

"Honey! I'm opening the door!" She calls out and all you do is cough in response.

You expected to find Changkyun, or maybe even Hanbin if she called him handsome, but to your surprise, it was Namjoon, carrying all the books he’d borrowed in your name the past few months and a stack of papers, which was probably your homework.

"Hi." You stared at him with wide eyes.

"I dropped by your class to pick up your homework since I heard from Mr. Kim that you were out sick, and I even brought a few books for you to read." He said sheepishly.

"I'll leave you two alone." Your mother squealed at you two giving you a wink that had your face heating up despite the chills you were currently experiencing.

"Thanks for the homework." You laugh, "I thought my classmates forgot about me."

He settles on the chair near you study table after placing the books near your bed, "I saw them on my way to see you so I just insisted that I'd take it to you instead." He fiddles with the rubics cube on the desk.

"I already borrowed a bunch of these books."

He quickly stands up and looks at the books, "Here. You haven't borrowed this one." He hands you the deep red cover with the title, "Roses, the flowers of love"

"Thanks." You look at the books, "You know I haven't actually read any of these right?" You laugh.

"Yeah, so you better get started, they're all due next week." He hands you another book, "Here, this might help you understand why I've been giving you books." You looked at the cover and realize it's a book on Flowers and their meaning.

You furrow your eyebrows but still smile shyly at him, "Why do you borrow books for me? Especially since you know I don't read them."

He slowly looks up at you, "Well I know you don't read them, but I at least expected you to skim them." He laughs, "But you didn't so that's why I came here with all these books.

He goes to the first one, and opens it up, "Yellow Acacias mean concealed love." He takes out a flattened yellow acacia, handing it to you. You blindly take it staring at him in utter shock.

He takes the second book, the one on tulips and takes out the tulip with the corresponding color, and so on with the rest.

"And finally." He takes the book on roses and opens it taking out the deep red rose flattened by the pages, "A red Rose means passionate love. The most cliché and utterly cheesy flower that there is." He looks at your shocked face and laughs, "Here, go ahead that take this." He hands you the rose.

By this time, your hands were filled with a bouquet of flattened flowers of all different colors and kind with only one meaning.

Love

"H-h-how?" You find the voice the speak, but it's only a whimper of a question.

"When I saw you that day in the library when I first started there, it was as if all this color exploded right before my eyes, and then I realized, it was you." You continued to stare dumbfounded at him, "Your hair was a mess probably from running your hands over it so many times, your eyes were bright as if you were somewhere far away in that library, and even though most people would say you looked like a mess that day, to me you looked absolutely beautiful, especially because your eyes glowed a little brown instead of the usual black I saw and your lips were red from biting them so much, and all that there was, was you." He sat on the bed near your feet.

"I don't know how I lasted so long without you." He whispered before he leaned in and kissed you.

Even though you could see all these colors, when he kissed you, it's like everything exploded all over, as if you finally understood everything Namjoon had been telling you for weeks.

You rested you forehead on his and smiled, "I love you too, Namjoon."

“I’m pretty sure you can get a special student assistant extension on these books’ due dates.” He joked.

Come the following week, you couldn't exactly put your classmates in their places when they started teasing you about Namjoon, especially when he picked you up from class to take you to the library, all you could do was take his hand and be led to the very room you first fell in love, you couldn’t exactly complain, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.

[overhere-series]

Over Here: Chapter Three

And there we are! Last of the revisions on these opening chapters are now officially finished, enjoy the book from here with a far better exposition. 

Cass’s alarm blares to life. She fumbles her phone off the nightstand like a wet bar of soap, thumbs the alarm off and curls back into the covers again. Images from her dream persist- a brown bird, a black hole, a town so alive with color it belongs in one of her dad’s books. They don’t fade to fuzz as most dreams do, stark and vivid as the bridges tend to be. If anything, it’s all coming into sharper focus as she wakes.

But the pent-up panic it gives her begins to ease as she takes in the whiff of incense wafting up from her dad’s studio. Eyes closed, she listens for the thrum of his music downstairs, be it the beats of radio fodder or high-speed banjo strumming.

None of his familiar genres welcome her, though, just a jazzy number droning soft from a source there in the room with her. The incense swirls more lavender than cinnamon.

“Is everything alright?” a lilting, reedy, painfully familiar voice asks.

Cass sits up with a jolt that sways her bed-no, hammock. She crashed out in a hammock, cushy pillows and blankets lumped beneath and around her. Thin tapestries are draped across the ceiling instead of painted stars like her room back home, too, matching the root-like patterns of the rugs that cover the floorboards.

Unlike the collection house, there’s not a glint of metal or plastic among the wood and cloth besides the radio on a table in the corner.  The source of the music then, though how it’s playing she can’t guess. It looks like it’s got flowers growing into the grate of its speakers.

The feather-haired guy preening in the wall mirror thumbs the stringy bass hums and foreign but pleasant voice down.

Cass presses her face into the pillows and groans.

“Cass?”

She glares at him with half her face still pressed to the pillows. So he can get a good look at her unamused eyes without distraction.

Far from being intimidated, Winston just cocks his head. Her dirty looks need to step up their game, apparently. “Are you alright?” he repeats.

“Can’t be,” she hisses. “Still here.” The wavering fear from the dream ebbs back, worse than before as a shred of relief comes arm in arm with it like a new pal it’s picked up. Add in how comforting the tweaks on the sounds and scents of home are in this place and her feelings get too tangled for her to deal with this early in the morning.

The rest of last night bleeds back to her, including how she’s come to find herself crashed out here. Here being another world, but also this sort of hotel the bird got them into after the whole sylphs incident. Cass had passed out within minutes of getting to the room, too tired even to rail Winston for more answers. A full night’s rest later and her energy to handle this place has made a comeback, though.

More of a comeback than she likes. She’s almost eager to get going, more than just to get back home.

Winston still his head tilted at her. He seems to have cleaned up when she was out, suit spotless white and feathers ruffled in a slightly less mad scientist mess than when she saw him last. Almost like the feathers grew with the grain of normal hair, framing his face in a weirdly owlish way.

“That sound, do you know what made it?” he asked.

Cass holds up her phone for him to see, but snatches it back when he reaches to take it. He draws away as she puts her legs over the side of the hammock and stretches. “It’s an alarm, birdbrain,” she says, and tosses the phone in her bag. “You guys have radios, for crying out- forget it, don’t worry about it.” Not the time to be debating tech capabilities of this place, even if she has no idea how they’ve wired electricity into this firetrap of a house or where the stations are coming from.

“It’s an alarm but I’m not to be alarmed?” Winston asks.

She rolls her eyes at the grin on his face and laces up her shoes. “Aren’t you a comedian. Thanks for not waking me up, early-”

She cuts herself off before she can finish the pun tucked in the taunt. The absence of new clothes and a shower makes her itchy and does a lot for her patience to see a joke in any of this disaster.

Winston just folds the blanket she’s dumped to the rugs instead of getting all peeved. Once she has her bag across her back, Cass takes him by the elbow to keep him from tidying the rest of the room.

“Come on, sooner we’re on the road, the better.”

*

From the hippy hotel they take off over that mossy bridge, careful to skirt the patch of lyreblooms this time around. Silence hangs between the pair as they walk. They may as well be on some scenic nature hike at the pace Winston ambles, Cass’s quick strides overtaking his wider ones with no real effort. He strolls along with his hands in his pockets, taking in the shift of the leaves from those ribbony reds to a purple like plum trees. Like he’s just as amazed with his own world as Cass probably should be.

Of course, he also ends up the one to break their silence. “Making another alarm?”

She’s got her phone in her hands. No service, no wifi, but she dials her house anyway. All she gets is angry beeping in her ear. She growls. “Might as well. Probably the only thing I can do with this thing now.”

“May I?” Winston curls his fingers in an apparently multiversal ‘gimme gimme’ gesture.

Cass hands it over, frustrated but nosy to see what he’ll do. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he explores it.

“Oh!” he says after a moment. “I’ve never seen one of this kind alive before- something about the material keeping magic out.” His fingers blur a bit, something surrounding them that she can’t quite see.

With it the screen flickers, her default background of Painted Hills going pixels until he tosses it back. The phone’s so hot to the touch she almost hot-potatoes it back. “What did you even do?”

“Nothing! Just a small drop of magic but that must be a bit for such a device to cope with,” he notes with a laugh. “I’ll leave the tampering to Marshall. He has a way of making metal and glass do his bidding somehow, though this inbetween material doesn’t respond near as much.”

“What, plastic?”

“Yes, that. Over Here still has yet to crack it, or at least this side of it. Those inorganic creations of yours aren’t bad as iron but still...”

“You can’t actually call it that,” she says. Her lips press tight together. A safe, slightly mocking question, even if she blurted it out. “Over Here. It’s dumb.”

“In relation to your world, we can and do,” he laughs. “The country we’re in at the moment is Ellis. Certainly not the worst of places for an otherlander to fall to.”

Cass bristles at his phrasing, like she’s the alien here next to a barefoot bird in a tux who walks through walls. The fact that this world even made up a word for people like her- or that there’s people like her period- doesn’t make her feel any better about the sound of it. “So if I’m an otherlander, what’s that make you? Doesn’t explain to me why you’re a bird in my world and a person in this one. Like do you change in the gap or-”

She flinches as Winston disappears from her side.

On the ground instead is the bird from the park, still tapping along the path.

“Okay. Werebird.”

She tenses up as the bird pauses, wings spread wide, and sprouts back up to her guide. Another shimmer she can’t quite see encases what probably doesn’t make for a pretty transformation. At least she’s not subjected to some drawn-out Animorphs cover stuff, quick enough that she might have blinked and the bird popped back into Winston.

He fluffs a hand through his newly messy feather hair and walks on. “Magician, actually,” he tells her, voice cracking bad as Stan’s.

She goes stiff, containing a spasm in her chest that’s definitely not a laugh. “Right. Meaning?”

“Meaning I create and perform magic, as do most in this world.”

“You guys are real subtle,” she says, faux impressed. “And do you cut yourselves in half or is it more like card tricks?”

“Perhaps I ought to get to the root of things, yes?” he replies. Cordial as ever, Winston stops and reaches into the branches above them. Clumps of little black berries weigh them down, letting him pick a bunch off. “In this world, where there’s life, there’s magic. Every living thing creates it in one form or another, though humans more than most.”

“Okay.” A rehearsed answer, sincere enough it’s not condescending since it has to be common knowledge here. Cass watches him pull a small bottle from his jacket and take up his stroll again beside her.

Absently he crams the berries inside, dying his long fingers blue in the process. “Because humans produce more, they can control their magic and use it to shape the world around them. It’s why I exchange forms, whisk, or do this.”

“Do what?”

He spits in the bottle, pops the cork on, and shakes it up. After a second he holds it up to his eyes and, satisfied, shows it to Cass. “Making a focal- a magic focus, if you will. Put enough of them together in a particular manner and you have an amalgam of them, like Marshall’s device. Something of a magical machine, I believe? If we’ve time I’ll show you more.”

“I’m cool with not watching you spit magic on things.”

Winston shrugs, not the least bit sheepish. “I’d have used pure magic, but then you wouldn’t have been able to see it.”

Cass squints at the bottle. A tiny shimmer might have glinted on the glass, but nothing too flashy. “Still can’t see it,” she says.

“Don’t worry, you will,” he assures, stowing the bottle in the little leather bag he keeps his coins in. “Either way, the ink will last longer that way and we’ll be able to scribe Marshall and the others.”

She lags behind a second as he picks up the pace. “Wait, what?”

“The scribing ink, it’s for sending messages without-”

“No! The seeing thing. Why can’t I see magic? I saw the gap just fine.” A heat rises in her chest along with her panic. How many things like the sylphs are out here that she can’t see? The less she needs to rely on the bird, the better, but being blind until something triggers her magic vision or whatever bothers her more than she cares to admit.

But Winston just walks on. “Your eyes will adapt,” he says. “Give it time.”

Questions sit in Cass’s mouth, begging to be spat out already, but she grits her teeth against them. Probably just going to open the floodgates on another nonsense non-explanation. She grips the straps of her bag and keeps an eye on their surroundings. Not like she’ll be here long enough for this to matter.

The trees grow tidier than they were in the last town, back to flashy reds and violets without being so tangled and overgrown. The pair continue downhill with the stream and eventually come to the crumbling remains of another bridge. From here the forest gives way to a crop of hills. Vineyards stretch like nets over them, dotted with big houses here and there. No more magical than wine country back in Oregon.

To her dismay, though, the town across the bridge looks about as magical as the last. More of those mossy stones lay together to form the road at their feet, leading past cabins and trees to a tidy square of more brick buildings. Long strands of flowers and green flags stamped with a silver tree hang between the rowhouses. In the right light, it looks a little like the vines grow through the bricks and into the walls.

“Stay close,” Winston says. Cass glances from the buildings to the buzzing street of people. She jogs up behind her guide, shoulders high like a touch from these people can burn her.

Snatches of conversation pass through one ear and out the other. It’s not long before she sees how the clothes on these magicians seem to lack seams, how their faces and complexions can line up with any garden variety Earth human but off slightly. They don’t seem at all concerned with the two travelers, preoccupied with heading to their own individual point A’s and point B’s. Or chatting on porches, or chasing kids around. Cass trains her stare on a select few, like a guy in a sweeping skirt leaning against a house with a moody look on his face. Or a cat, who leaps down a branch of flowers and morphs into a woman to talk to the moody guy.

She catches Winston’s arm to keep from stopping to study them all. Her hands itch for the sketchbook in her bag, but she gets sucked out of it when Winston looks down at her.

She lets go. “What? I’m trying not to lose you out here,” she mutters, then forges on when he just tilts his head again. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Somewhere for decent directions,” he says. He cranes around, eying the signs above each building before settling on one. Whatever it is, he drifts toward it and beckons her with a quick ‘come along’.

Cass doesn’t even have time to grab him before he darts inside, leaving her to pause under a wooden sign that reads Fausts’ in loopy painted print.

Minutes later she sits staring at the spread on the table with her arms crossed. The warm, yeasty scent of fresh bread curls around her, fruit glistening in its bowl just like the beads of condensation on the glass of amber juice placed beside them. More jazz swoons from a radio, pluckier than the stuff she knows with more piano and guitar than horn. Cass’s dark brows narrow in concentration, her jaw tight.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” Winston prompts.

Her stomach rumbles almost on cue, silent but no less insistent for it. When did she eat last? Pizza back him, an eternity enough ago that she can’t argue with a free meal.

But her old knowledge of magic makes her hesitant to touch a thing. Reminds her of how fae trapped people with banquets they couldn’t resist, or how Persephone got roped into the underworld from just a couple of seeds.

Still, she’s not exactly at a banquet in the woods or the Greek realm of death. Despite the waitress levitating dishes in a cloud around her and the wood-paneled style of a vineyard inn, the restaurant they sit in now manages to have a small-town diner vibe. Everyone chatters around them like they know each other, though she and Winston receive some raised brows and pitying smiles dressed as they are.

Not exactly a swords and sorcery tavern or anything, but it springs to mind all the rules she’s been ignoring since she got here. Shit, has she given anyone her full name? Cassandra Ryan Douglas isn’t usually her opener but does it have to be first, middle, and last or just what she calls herself?

Winston staying polite and patient as ever only feeds her suspicions, but she reaches for the juices after a few seconds of his staring. Putting off sipping it and his pestering in one fell swoop.

His eyes shift soon to the contents of his jacket on the table, anyway. As soon as the waitress led them to a table, he dumped out his ink bottle, coins, and a strip of cloth that could be a bowtie out in front of him. Wherever they go when he goes bird, Cass doesn’t want to know.

She slouches in her seat. “How’s that plan coming, featherhead?”

“Along. I’m stitching one,” he says. He nibbles some bread in thought, oblivious to the looks they’re getting.

The waitress, probably a Faust since it looks like everyone running the place shares the same thick black hair and stocky build, wanders back to top off their drinks. Well, Winston’s. “Anything else you two need?” she asks.

“You wouldn’t know how to go about getting to Haven by week’s end, would you?”

Faust flourishes a hand for her cloud of empty glasses and tops off one for the table beside them. There’s a flicker of surprise on her at the question, but it passes quick. “You sure you want to try the week before the festival?” she says, dubious. “All we have here are those two-seater fliers on the hill. I don’t want to tell you your luck for getting tickets this time of year, either.”

“Don’t remind me,” Winston says, still tracing the grain of the table like he can read an answer from it. “Where would the nearest land port be?”

“Malone,” Faust says. Her eyes lingering on Cass’s flannel and the bag on the back of her chair. When Faust’s stare goes to the copper hair gnarled to the side of Cass’s head her face burns.

Winston plays with the bottle from his jacket. “From Pendle Creek? Two days just to go around the marsh, not to mention the full trip to the edge of it. I don’t know if we’ve that sort of time.”

“Well, you can’t slip through those marshes,” Faust warns. “Even the wardens won’t stir up the nameless out there.”

“Not if we can’t help it, no. What about the nearest train station?”

“There’s one in Clemence if you’re willing to walk. And if you’re not afraid of heights. Not sure what your luck is during festival week but it’ll be cheaper. Anything else I can do for you two?” Her flock of empty dishes accumulates as she speaks with them.

“A map, please, if you have it.” Winston beams at her, though the moment Faust spins around he rubs his fingers beneath his eyes. Under his breath he mumbles something along the lines of ‘coffee’.

Cass snorts and downs the last of her juice. Nice to know the bird’s even a little miserable under all his cheer, and that the juice isn’t perfect enough to be dangerously irresistible. As she wolfs down the rest of the food, she manages to get a question out. “What’s this festival about?”

Winston blinks. He has this lost, backlit stare like he’d forgotten her. “It’s the solstice festival,” he explains. “The longest day of our year.”

“I know what a solstice is.” The first week of June over, they’ll be having the first day of summer in about a week back home, though Earth doesn’t put a lot of song and dance on it.

Winston notes her crossed arms and goes for reassurance again. “It’s an old holiday here, nothing to be nettled about. It just addles any plans we make if everyone’s traveling at once.”

So the Christmas airport rush, just magic. “So you’re saying you have a plan, though.”

He rolls the ink bottle in his hands. “I’ll get a few messages home and then it’s a train to Malone, I suppose,” he says. “We’ll just have to hope we can get passage all the way to Haven, but just getting that far without those marshes would be gift enough. Fragments are the last thing we need.”

He leans back in his chair, eyes closed and hands folded on the table. Had he actually slept at all last night? Doesn’t matter to Cass if he hadn’t, but since he’d been up before her she has to wonder. So long as his at least early bird if not insomniac tendencies don’t keep him from guiding her, she’ll take it.

Slumped in her seat, she rolls a coin across her knuckles, tries to keep from fumbling it when she fudges the trick. “Uh huh. How long should that take?”

“Only a few days, at best.”

“What’s at worst?”

“It depends. If my work comes up, we might be just a little delayed.”

“What work?” The fleeting image of the bird at a desk plinking at a keyboard makes her mouth twist. Like this guy seriously has a job- but fancy suits and coins have to come from somewhere, she reasons.

“Here’s the map you asked for,” says Faust as she swings by again. She slips Winston a scrap of paper, which he pockets the same moment the doors fling open.

The vast majority of the customers turn their heads, the murmurs between them already striking up. The girl in the doorway has the same coarse dark hair, pale skin, and stocky frame as the other Fausts in here, panting as she looks the room over. Her eyes light on every face in the restaurant, even Cass’s for a second, but eventually she collects herself and heads for the kitchen with a stiff jaw.

The rest of the room lulls back to its previous thrum of voices and clatters, but the waitress and the girl add their arguing to the mix. The waitress puts hand to her mouth, eyes wide at the girl’s grim expression.

Cass snaps her fingers in front of Winston’s beak of a nose. The bird’s been watching the scene unfold with keen interest, stowing his stuff back in his pockets. He still doesn’t meet her eyes until she snaps again.

“What?” he says.

“It’s not our business,” she tells him. “C’mon, we paid up and we’ve been in this town too long as it is. Let’s go. We’re going to Clemence now, right?”

Winston’s eyes are already back to the scene at the kitchen doorway, but he pushes out of his chair and snatches up the last of his bread without arguing. They’re almost to the door before Faust grabs Winston’s arm and yanks.

“You,” she says in a low tone. “You’re a longcoat, aren’t you? A warden?”

“Do you have need of one?” Winston doesn’t pull away from Faust, or from Cass who’s taken his other arm and prepared to tug-of-war for him. This is my bird, don’t make me fight for him.

But Faust inclines her head, like she doesn’t want to be caught nodding but would definitely take up a brawl to get Cass’s guide from her. There’s a look on her face more fierce than any glare Cass can drudge up to match it, a menace in her stare that can melt glass. It softens when she gives a nod to the girl at her side.

“There’s this voice…” she begins.

“A voice with direction or all around you, up here?” Winston taps a finger to his temple with his newly freed hand.

“Up there. There’s a wall of thickets and they followed this- this… there’s something in there with them,” she murmurs, barely holding composure. She can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen, maybe Cass’s brother’s age. “My brother and sister.”

“And my niece and nephew,” Faust tags on. “It’s a nameless, isn’t it?”

“Likely so. How long ago?”

“Half hour.”

Winston rakes a hand through his feathers, appearing to actually be mulling this over. Cass gets a grip on his jacket. Is he even serious? They’re going after some missing kids just because- what, is this his job? How often does this even happen?

Considering the sylphs and his finesse handling those, probably more than rarely. Still, he’s not dragging her out on a rescue mission without so much as an explanation.

“Wait, what the hell’s a nameless?” she rasps, trying to stay sotto voce as the rest of them.

“Are you otherlander?” the girl asks, scanning Cass over. Seeing more of these magicians with their seamless clothes and bare feet makes her flannel and battered track shoes stick out, but her lack of know-how alone doesn’t help either. Cass flushes red.

“It’s a bit of cover,” Winston confides, all but stage-whispering behind his hand. “We’re both wardens, though we are in a bit of a rush hence the…” He waves to their attire and, though Faust raises a brow, her niece seems to buy it. “We’ll see what we can do, yes? We may need help finding this barrier.”

The girl takes a deep breath and nods. Her eyes are red at the bottoms, tears pressing but her mouth a white line of resolve. At the sight of it, Cass’s anger with the bird wilts. Not this kid’s fault something happened to her siblings, and even so she’s holding it together to help them even if she’s probably scared out of her mind to go back to where she lost them.

“Definitely,” Cass says. “That’d be really brave of you. To show us. What’s your name?”

“Hazel Faust,” the girl says. Her eyes still look full to spilling tears all down her cheeks, but she wipes it on her sleeve and braces herself to show them out. Her aunt takes moment to hug her, tell her everything will be okay, the whole bit.

Winston offers Cass a grateful grin. Her face just burns even more.

[thingsireflecaut]

Post Three

Things to explore and think about that I learnt from my research:

Listing- I found the listing in Eloise Goes To Paris so compelling and entertaining.

The poetry & rhythm of both books was beautiful and integral to the writer’s art.

Dialogue was a great part of both books as well; Eloise had such a strong voice that made you feel and love her, and Max’s character came through in his dialogue. The phonetic spelling and humour in Eloise Goes To Paris was a great was to make the character come to life, and the dynamic nature and visual aspect of Max’s dialogue in Where the Wild Things Are was captivating.  

Maurice Sendak’s story doesn’t rely on an abundance of unnecessary words; he gets the point across concisely and vividly. Both stories also have an assertive protagonist which is something I need to work towards.  

I adore aesthetically the abstract nature of Sendak’s writing; I think it lends well to the concept as a whole and getting children to explore their imagination in less rigid terms, and also makes the illustrations come to life and have creative licence to elevate the story.

Themes of childhood emotion, imagination and being boundless in what your protagonist can do was very inspiring to me as well.

I wrote drafts of a few different stories that were inspired by my research in order to find one that I could then edit, and use as my final story.

One:

What I am trying to explore:

Abstract concepts, interesting dialogue, themes of imagination and using repetition. Also themes of who you are and who you can be that I was interested in in my proposal.

Story:

“Hello, me!” said Sam to the mirror

“Hello, you!” said the mirror to Sam.

“I’m doing something different today.”

The mirror smiled back.

Sam liked their hair long,

Sam liked their hair short,

Sam liked that their hair had a life of its own.  

Today Sam’s hair wanted to be long.

So they stepped through the time hole.

They were very very squished

And then, suddenly, hugely stretched out

And Sam popped out in one year.

They looked in the mirror

“HELLO, old friend!”  

Sam was bewildered,

Their hair twirled all around.  

Sam twirled with it.  

Two:

What I am trying to explore:

Exploring listing & imagination. Thinking about poetry; alliteration, rhyme, cadence & repetition.

Story:

My Things

I have a million things.

They are all me,

And I am all them.

This one cost two whole dollars!

This one I found

In the middle of a tree!

This pile of things is very heavy

And very dusty

Because they stay very still

And I watch them intently.

These are my jewels.

I collect them on my walks.

I give them to friends

Who come in all sorts.

Sometimes I lose my things,

In fact I do it a lot…  

Usually it’s those silly Grimbles

This is a Grimble hot spot.

Flowers are my favourites.

Its ok if they get dry,

I stick them between a book

Or just paint them with my dye.

This one I made  

It hangs on my wall,

If I focus and point,

I can make it fall.

This one is expensive,

My mum got it for me.

I get under the covers,

And I go off to sleep.

Three:

Inspired maybe a little too heavily by Where the Wild Things Are; inspired by the narrative structure and themes. Also playing with the use of capitals like Sendak does.

A mean finger pointed in Lolas face

A big red mean finger attached to a big mean red ogre

That looked like he was about to SWALLOW Lola whole

Lola screamed and she ran and ran and ran and ran

And her face was wet with tears.

As her tears fell something strange happened

The tears became bigger and bigger  

And more and more

Until they themselves grew larger than Lola

And they swallowed her up.

Lola tucked her knees to her chest

And locked her arms around them

She closed her eyes and sobbed some more.

Lola created a bubble around her

So that nobody from outside could enter her tears

And no creatures from her tears could enter her bubble.

She was all alone.

One hundred years passed  

and the tears had dried up

And Lola was alone…

“YIPPEE” she said! “WOO HOO” she yelled!

She danced around the land!

She twirled all day! And skipped all night!

And yelled into the air

“I AM ALOOONNNEEEEEEEE!”

She looked around….  

She danced around the land, again.

She twirled all day.

And skipped all night.

She whispered to herself

“I am all alone.”

So she walked across the land,

And back across the hundred years,

She found her tears  

And swam.

She found the big red ogre

Who had shrunk back to his regular size,

With his shirt tucked in,

And his big round eyes.

He bent down to little Lola

To show her a smile.

He was no longer red.

And she      was no longer scared.

Four:

Inspiration from the craziness of the world around Eloise- I love the flamboyance of the crazy hotel she lives in and the strangeness of the world around her.

Story:

Amelias house lent to the left  

Unless there was a particularly strong wind

Or you told it off,  

In which case it leant to the right.

Amelia didn’t like to tell the house off

But sometimes it got carried away

And squashed her cats

And once it almost squashed Amelia

When she was sleeping

(and she had to grab bricks from her dream and pile them up  

So she didn’t get squashed)

(she made sure to return the bricks later)

After that incident she had to tell the house off  

Really bad  

And it lent to the right for a while after that

Which made the furniture look funny.

Amelia did what every normal child did;

She made sure to pay the monthly bills

She talked to important people on the phone

She worried about money  

and made sure to find as much as she could on her walk to work.

Her work was petting strangers’ cats.  

She loved it, don’t get me wrong, but boy was it stressful sometimes.  

When she got home from work, she said to house

“UGH, will you let me put my bag down first!

Before you start harassing me for things!”

And then she poured herself a glass of something strong;

Tonight, it was lime cordial.  

On the weekends she slept in

And said oh boy, I wish everyday was like this!

She made sure to read the news paper

For her news, on paper

And she shook the pages around  

And flipped them back and forth as best she could

And made sure to fold it in a few different ways.

Sometimes she would grab a pen and say to house

“what’s a four-letter word for flabbergasted?”

And then do a big loud “Hmpfh”

And turn the page over.  

Since all of this was really quite exhausting,

Amelia was lucky to have her parents’ house to escape to

If she needed it.

Five:

What I am trying to explore:

Themes of childhood emotion, actively trying to write an assertive protagonist. Using repetition & alliteration. Also trying to write so that when read out loud it will be amusing.  

Story:

I put on my favorite dress,

My secret favorite dress, nobody knows

Its girly and pink and the sparkles go BOOM

And then I heard the voice,

He always comes

Whenever I put on the secret dress

The voice is slimy and dark and dank

And throws you into a deep dark hole

The hole is so deep and dark and deep

Sometimes I think I’ll never leave.

He says yuck, that dress is girly

So girly pink and yuck

You look silly, didn’t sally say?

When you wore that dress to school one day?

But there is one thing that I can do

When that slimy voice comes

I pull out my sword and say GO AWAY

And I cut the slimy thing to the bone

The funny thing is,  

The thing behind the voice

The slimiest sluggiest slip slop yuck voice in the whole wide world

Is the smallest tiniest silliest thing,

It’s hard not to laugh at it.

Six:

What I am trying to explore:

Story:

There once was a little girl who never spoke.

Well, she had spoken once, as a baby. She said ‘baba’ which in baby talk meant “please get off my bed, big brother, I would like to be alone now”

But her brother laughed, and pointed a big red finger at her and called their parents in.

“What, what?” they said, “hurry up boy!”  

“Look at Amelia trying to talk!”

They crowded her and staired at her with their big round eyes, waiting.

Amelia tried to say: “I’m not sure what the commotion is about… I know what I want to say, I’m just figuring out how to get it out. I’ll figure it out soon, mummy, daddy.”

But only a loud babble came out: “Mmm gaba.”

Her family scrunched up their faces and started laughing at her.  

“Well, she’s not going to be the brightest of the bunch!”  

And they left her all alone.  

Amelia was so embarrassed from that day forward that she didn’t say a word again.

That was nine whole years ago.  

Since Amelia’s family didn’t believe her to be bright, they never sent her to school.

But Amelia learnt in her own way.

She taught herself how to read and how to paint using things from around the house. Marmite was a great black, and if she cut out parts of magazines she could create great images of colour and people.

She sat in her garden and learned about the bugs and the trees, and about how the leaves on the trees fell when it was getting colder, and how flowers started popping up when warmer weather was on its way.

Amelia was lucky to have the kindest next door neighbour in the world; Miss Andrews.  

Miss Andrews was as loud and chatty which made up for Amelia’s lack of words. She also played violin.

I also wrote an alternate path for this story, but wasn’t able to finish either due to lack of time.

Amelia walked to school by herself every day.  

She crossed busy roads and walked down dark alleys.

She walked past bullies who pulled her pigtails and stole her lunch;  

Not that they were very impressed with it, Amelia’s family weren’t big cooks

Usually, her lunch was packed with ice,  

or sometimes a lemon found its way in.  

Amelia never said anything to the bullies.

She was too scared to talk.  

Amelia had a horrible teacher who picked on her in class.

She forced all the children to read their work out loud

And if they could she would yell “PAAASSSSS!”

But if they couldn’t she would yell “FAAIILLLLLL!”

And make them run 100 laps around the field,  

rain or shine.

Luckily, Amelia had a friend.

Her name was Lola.

Lola ran laps around the field with Amelia,  

Even when she didn’t have to.

Lola made fun of the bullies when they weren’t looking,

And Lola shared her lunch with Amelia, so she wouldn’t be hungry.

Amelia walked into class and took her seat next to Lola.

Seven:

Laura wasn’t good at anything.

She didn’t know how to be good.

She tried drawing but she did it wrong

And her parents told her off.

She tried reading but she didn’t know the words,

She tried writing but it came out all wrong,

The words were lopsided and fell off the page.  

She tried cooking but she made a mess

She tried tidying but somehow… made it even messier.

She hid from her mum after that,

But she wasn’t good at hiding.  

Laura felt silly and strange so she sat in her garden

And she closed her eyes for a very long time.  

When she woke up, she got quite a shock.

Her garden had grown into a tall dark forest,

With flowers and vines and big dense bushes.

Laura looked around. She was lost, and cold. A howl echoed far away.  

But then – she heard a smaller howl. A tiny one. She turned to see a little wolf.

The wolf looked at her and growled – he was scared too.  

Laura crawled slowly to him and held out her hand.

“Come here, little wolf. Its ok, I won’t hurt you.”

The wolf whimpered and cautiously sniffed her hand.

She pet him on the head and he came into her lap.

“Where do you live, little wolf?” asked Laura, and they heard another loud howl in the distance.

The little wolf tried to howl back but was so quiet Laura barely heard it herself.

“I see.” she whispered. “I’ll get you back home.”

So Laura and the wolf took off looking for home.

I ended up choosing my three favourite stories and working on them to find what my final story would be.